Spring Breakers — already one of the more controversial and outrageous films of the year — is sure to grab you by the seat of your pants, however willing or unwilling you may be. Marking writer and director Harmony Korine’s entrance into the (semi-) commercial realm, the film is a colorful collage of concentrated adolescence at its most fevered pitch. His message, if one can truly be parsed out, may be lost on the portion of the audience that doesn’t perceive the film as satire. But if you watch and listen closely, Spring Breakers, through its visual and auditory experience, nails the irony embedded in the current teen culture, inviting you to the party and hoping you’ll laugh at the outrageousness of it all. You will, but you’ll do so with a hint of self-gratifying derision, even though you’re enjoying it nearly as much as the characters onscreen.
Spring Breakers opens by illustrating the title of the film: college students flock to St. Petersburg, Florida with the objective to party as hard as possible. Alcohol is in abundance: in beer cans, splashed on bodies, poured into mouths. Men flex muscles and frenetically jump up and down while women suck on USA-colored popsicles.
The film primarily follows four young girls desperate to get enough cash to make it to Florida for spring break. Our initial protagonist is Faith (Selena Gomez) who, unlike her blonde friends who spend their time getting high and watching Kimbo Slice fight videos, shows some devotion to school and to God, attending a progressive church where the pastor, played by former WWE wrestler Jeff Jarret, gives sermons that ask, “Do you want to get jacked up on Jesus?” Meanwhile, Brit, Candy and Cotty (Ashley Benson, Vanessa Hudgens and Rachel Korine, respectively) rob a coffeehouse to pay for their trip.
Bouncing around in pastel-colored bathing suits, fitted with polarized, similarly colored sunglasses and high-top Nike sneakers, the girls blend seamlessly into the nonstop party. But for the girls, spring break isn’t just about partying. In a voicemail she leaves her grandmother, Faith seeks to redeem her partying by connecting it to a greater understanding of the universe: “It’s more than just spring break… I’m really finding myself out here.” At one point, she even describes the trip as “spiritual.” The dialogue is spot-on; how many times do we offer a version of this speech to our own parents, trying to convince them that there’s self-fulfillment to be found in a four-day booze cruise?
After a short stint in jail (charge: partying too hard), they meet Alien, played by the polymath James Franco. Alien, part rapper, part gangster (no, the two aren’t synonymous) sports dreads, grills, outrageous tattoos, Hawaiian shirts and, of course, two shiny pistols. After busting them out of county, Alien exposes the girls to the grit of the St. Pete party scene, causing Faith to recoil, terrified by the exotically grungy setting. In an intense scene between Alien and Faith, Alien tries to convince her to stay; the camera holds on a close-up of their faces as he uncomfortably, and without consent, strokes her face. The rapid change in pace and tone at such well-timed intervals throws us from comical moments to extraordinarily personal ones with natural ease. At one point a lovemaking scene slowly builds to a standoff until everyone in the audience seems to be holding his/her breath; the unpredictability of the group opens the door for the smooth transitions between entertaining and unnerving material.
Alien and the girls, sans Faith, quickly get involved in mischief — outfitted in pink robbers’ masks and sweatpants with the letters “D-T-F” across their posteriors. Interlaced with a dance scene in which the girls swoon to the touch of their newly acquired shotguns, their crime spree is dubbed over by “Everytime,” a Britney Spears hit that ’90s babies (including myself) listened to early on in our musical educations. Through nostalgia and a beautiful piano riff, the track ups the intimacy between the film and its young adult audience.
A feud develops between Alien and real-life rapper Gucci Mane, which results in Cotty getting shot in the arm. Only Candy and Brit remain, driven on by the pursuit of pure thrill — even more so than their now-lover Alien. With revenge as the only option, the trio set out for the Gucci’s mansion.
Full of bright, pulsing fluorescents, Spring Breakers’ colorscape is aesthetically alluring; the hyped-up hues personify the characters who wear or bask in their luminosity. Similarly, the camera movements reflect the wild, voyeuristic gaze of the onscreen teenagers who delight in the sensationalistic depictions of sexuality. The camera jumps from scene to scene as if it were a part of the fray, peering over the tops of teenagers’ heads to get a good look at the half-naked guy doing a bump off of a girl’s chest. The camera can also assume a more passive role, acting as a visual microphone for whoever wants to push themselves into frame, oftentimes breaking the fourth wall. The actors have a direct and personal relationship with the camera that draws us nearer to them.
The film works so well not only because of its vivid color design, active and thoughtful cinematography, a well developed soundtrack that spans from Spears to Wacka Flocka to Skrillex or even the great performances from the entire cast. Harmony Korine revels in a vein of uninhibited American teenage culture yet treats it with humor. He also regards this teenage world with respect and sincerity in a have-your-cake-and-eat-it -too dynamic. Korine seems to tell the audience: “I’m going to make fun of these characters and you’ll laugh, but you’re going to realize their aspirations aren’t much different than yours” in a roller coaster ride that turns the joke on its viewers. In the beginning of the movie, Brit convinces Cotty to join them on the robbery by telling her, “Pretend like it’s a video game. Act like you’re in a movie.” Lines of dialogue like this are pervasive throughout the film and are a double-edged sword offering an ironic glimpse into the mindsets of adolescents who are unable to decipher Hollywood’s portrayal of the world from its actuality. Spring Breakers marries the comical, social climate of our generation with a ridiculous yet thrilling fantasy that in some way each of us can indulge in, even if we aren’t true spring breakers at heart.
