The future bores me.

I messed up in high school. Big time. Maybe it was my parents fault (as they chose the neighborhood), or maybe some other nefarious force was at work, but looking back, I squandered many a sexual conquest. While my personality was the likely culprit, I'm going to point the finger at my old nemesis, circumstance. Time and time again, that crotchety bastard routinely f--ked me over. My family lived in a part of the neighborhood that featured a) zero girls my age and b) no super-hot/incredibly depressed mothers. Oh, and c) no one had a pool. The only thing getting screwed around my house, was the pooch.

For the record, that last line sounded much better in my head.

White Bird in a Blizzard isn't about a desperate teenage boy and his desire to become a sexual tyrannosaur. At least not really, Instead, it's about a teenage girl, who in the wake of her mother's disappearance, f--ks her way through her teenage years. While her depression may be below the surface, her indifference is spilling over. The salaciousness may be moderately overstated, but it seems that sex and lust are the root of all evil in director Gregg Araki's latest.

Shailene Woodley plays Kat, a fairly typical 17 year-old, hanging out and playing Nintendo in the late eighties/early nineties. Once upon a time, her parents were a seemingly happy couple, though Kat's mom might have something to say about that. In fact, once she finally speaks up, it's not too long after that ol' Mom doesn't come home for supper. I mean, doesn't come home to cook supper. Bummer. I'll take Sesame Chicken with white rice, okay?

Mr. Connors (a bewildered Christopher Meloni), Kat's dad, would likely be the chief suspect, but not only does he pass his polygraph, he's also a huge pussy. He might show flashes of a spine, but that's only when he's bent over, taking it up the ass from his hardcore wife, Eve Connors, played by that dame to kill for, Eva Green.

While the mystery of Eve's disappearance bubbles under just about every scene, this is the Shailene Show top to bottom. I wasn't quite sure if her Kat really gave a shit that her mom was gone, or was simply playing it off, but her unraveling is an interesting watch. Sure, it doesn't hurt that she Woodley drops trou on more than one occasion, or that Green plays her part like the dubbed matriarch of a Spanish soap, but I was engaged nonetheless.

There was a subplot or two I didn't really give a shit about, and the finale was sort of like the final minute of Enemy [review] (though this hairy creature had six fewer legs), but overall I'd say it's worth checking out. I got the heads up from Brittani over at Rambling Film, and if you can't trust her, well...there's pretty much no hope for you as a person.

Also hope-free, are the Yays and Boos. They once thought that my wife had disappeared without a trace. Turns out she was at the grocery store, picking up a few things. Apparently four hours is a reasonable time to complete such an endeavor.

Nothing says I'm a douchey teenager like sitting on the counter.
And wearing your sleeves like that.

Yaaaaaaaay!

• Ah, cassette players. I know they sucked ass, but I don't care. They also f--king ruled.
• Dude. Shiloh Fernandez plays this dude, Phil - and he's kind of awesome. Mainly because he looks exactly like my younger brother Nikos, but also because he rocks the shit out of some Defender, in lieu of banging his girlfriend. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned for Sega.
• I also enjoyed Phil's mastery of the spoken word. Example #1: 'Cut him some slacks.' #2 Referring to something as a 'vicious circus'. Example #3: Well...I should probably look for my mom's cat. That last one actually made sense...but it's pretty f--king rad anyway.
• Might as well get it over with: boobs. Wait. Divergent boobs.
• Sweet crock pot, Dad. Even if mom hates that piece of shit, I'm with you, Mr. Connors. They are totally the wave of the future.
• I might have already mentioned it, but The Cure's Pictures of You has secured a spot in the Movie Soundtrack Hall of Fame. First ballot, hands down.
• For the record...I downloaded some screen grab software, so...these pictures are all me, bitches! Suck on that, Google images. At least till the trial runs out, anyway.
• And finally, Eva Green. Fine...she's only eleven years older than her daughter. Odd. And she dresses like a coke-fueled Cruella de Vil. Oookay. And she sounds like the demon bitch in Evil Dead 2. But none of that matters, honestly, as I can't help but root for the visual and aural splendor that is Vesper Lynd. I'm powerless.

Yep. I opted for this.

Booooooo!

• I like Christopher Meloni, I do, but here he's permanently stuck on milkless kitten. Dude, man the f--k up for once. Well, fine, twice.
• What the shit were those dreams? If you're going to dream about your mom laying naked in the elements, could you at least give her a blanket? Or a light-saber and a downed tauntaun, at least.
• Detective Sziciciezwiezciwez, or whatever the Hell that guys name was. I spent the entire movie thinking he looked like Thomas Jane, only to find out he was Thomas Jane. Lame. Though there was a minute where I thought he was Bon Jovi's older brother, which is awesome when you think about it. Either way, I'm pretty sure guys didn't wear their shirts that tightly in 1990, man. 
• Apparently, Kat has a thing for Dicks, huh? *shudder*
• What was up with her friends? Unnecessarily quirky, those two were.
• Phil. What the Hell is up with us almost seeing your pubes all the f--king time? Pull 'em up, man - please. (the jeans, perv, not the...nevermind)
• And finally, the ending. Not the reveal mind you, even though that seemed a little far-fetched, but kind of the last fifteen minutes or so. That ridiculousness with the old newspaper covered appliance seemed 900% silly. As did the event that ultimately led to that. STOP LAUGHING! 

Like Kat, I guess there's a part of me that is happy to have my high school and college years behind me. My mom never disappeared, which is a plus, but I had my share of ordeals to overcome. I'm glad we both made it out. Personally, I'm also psyched to be well beyond that time in my life spent being an immature, sex-obsessed a-hole.

For the record, that last line sounded much better in my head, too.