Welcome to Bellflower Street. Home to a host of twenty-somethings loosely defined as the Y Generation. No one seems to work. No one goes to school. No one has any definable goals at all.
Instead, our characters wander from bar to bar, party to party, and each other's beds whenever it pleases them. No one considers the consequences. No one cares. For them there is a complete disconnect to anything outside their own selfish feelings and wants. Everyone is everybody else's fair weather friend. Emotions rule and common sense is a thing unknown. There is no other world worth considering save their own.
At the center we have Woodrow (Evan Glodell) who chums around with his best pal Aiden (Tyler Dawson). Woodrow is a bit of an aw-shucks kind of guy who giggles a lot and speaks with all the unformed glob of a twelve year-old. Aiden is far more focused and harbors a fascination with the Apocalypse, spending hundreds of hours and thousands of dollars designing and building military-grade flame throwers as well as tricking out an old Buick Skylark with ample horse power and gadgets suitable for the likes of Mad Max as well as James Bond.
I found Aiden a complete mystery. He has what is known as invisible means of support. He has by his own admission, "A lot of time on my hands" and also evidently considerable funds to throw around on his inventions. How does he get his money? We don't get to find out.
On a redundant night out from their slummy, lower middle class digs, Woodrow and Aiden find themselves in one of their favorite dives where Woodrow meets Milly (Jessie Wiseman). Milly is girlishly too-cute-to- pass-up, reeks of sexuality, is tough and mentally high-functioning. Her character essentially amounts to the equivalence of an intelligent biker chick sans the bike. Her and Woodrow hit it off immediately and begin dating, with their very first meet-up resulting in a spontaneous road trip from California to Texas. Yes, Texas.
What a street-smart girl like Milly sees in the klutzy goofball Woodrow is hard to understand. Perhaps she needed a break from her regular type of guy. Maybe she's bored. Or maybe she's unconsciously trying to hurt someone else.
If so, her ex-boyfriend Mike (Vincent Grashaw) is that someone else.
A romantic item in the past, Mike and Milly still co-habitate as roommates, but are clearly no longer lovers and haven't been for a long, long while. A highly uncomfortable and tense situation for Mike, but no matter: Milly couldn't care less. She doesn't help the already dark atmosphere of Mike's mind by happily sharing news of her new beau Woodrow, causing Mike to visibly shrink into deeper levels of anger and depression.
He sulks and silently fumes while still paying the physically absent Milly's half of the rent, because, you know, she has far more important things to do then pay attention to silly ideas like maintaining respect for an ex-lover's feelings or fiscal responsibilities.
And nothing good will come from it.
Everybody in this story drinks. A lot. Especially Woodrow and Aiden. Copious amounts of beer and whiskey are consumed 'round the clock with perhaps a break only to take a shower or sit on a toilet. Drinking and driving is normal, and even a home-cooked breakfast is served whilst throwing back a bottle or two.
To be in your early twenties again armed with ignorant bliss and a strong liver.
Emotional immaturity mixed with the chronic boozing makes for predictable and terrible results as most of the main characters descend into their individual self-destructions, while two of them carry out vengeance against one another that is hair raising to behold. The story thoroughly held my attention throughout.
I was amazed to learn the entire film was shot on the thinnest shoe string possible, a mere $17,000. I don't exaggerate in hazarding a guess if the biggies in Hollywood would have attempted the same screen play, it would have cost at least 200 times as much with predictably dubious results.
I can only describe this film as a purposely tainted gem. Lost members of a generation held up raw for all to see.
Instead, our characters wander from bar to bar, party to party, and each other's beds whenever it pleases them. No one considers the consequences. No one cares. For them there is a complete disconnect to anything outside their own selfish feelings and wants. Everyone is everybody else's fair weather friend. Emotions rule and common sense is a thing unknown. There is no other world worth considering save their own.
At the center we have Woodrow (Evan Glodell) who chums around with his best pal Aiden (Tyler Dawson). Woodrow is a bit of an aw-shucks kind of guy who giggles a lot and speaks with all the unformed glob of a twelve year-old. Aiden is far more focused and harbors a fascination with the Apocalypse, spending hundreds of hours and thousands of dollars designing and building military-grade flame throwers as well as tricking out an old Buick Skylark with ample horse power and gadgets suitable for the likes of Mad Max as well as James Bond.
I found Aiden a complete mystery. He has what is known as invisible means of support. He has by his own admission, "A lot of time on my hands" and also evidently considerable funds to throw around on his inventions. How does he get his money? We don't get to find out.
On a redundant night out from their slummy, lower middle class digs, Woodrow and Aiden find themselves in one of their favorite dives where Woodrow meets Milly (Jessie Wiseman). Milly is girlishly too-cute-to- pass-up, reeks of sexuality, is tough and mentally high-functioning. Her character essentially amounts to the equivalence of an intelligent biker chick sans the bike. Her and Woodrow hit it off immediately and begin dating, with their very first meet-up resulting in a spontaneous road trip from California to Texas. Yes, Texas.
What a street-smart girl like Milly sees in the klutzy goofball Woodrow is hard to understand. Perhaps she needed a break from her regular type of guy. Maybe she's bored. Or maybe she's unconsciously trying to hurt someone else.
If so, her ex-boyfriend Mike (Vincent Grashaw) is that someone else.
A romantic item in the past, Mike and Milly still co-habitate as roommates, but are clearly no longer lovers and haven't been for a long, long while. A highly uncomfortable and tense situation for Mike, but no matter: Milly couldn't care less. She doesn't help the already dark atmosphere of Mike's mind by happily sharing news of her new beau Woodrow, causing Mike to visibly shrink into deeper levels of anger and depression.
He sulks and silently fumes while still paying the physically absent Milly's half of the rent, because, you know, she has far more important things to do then pay attention to silly ideas like maintaining respect for an ex-lover's feelings or fiscal responsibilities.
And nothing good will come from it.
Everybody in this story drinks. A lot. Especially Woodrow and Aiden. Copious amounts of beer and whiskey are consumed 'round the clock with perhaps a break only to take a shower or sit on a toilet. Drinking and driving is normal, and even a home-cooked breakfast is served whilst throwing back a bottle or two.
To be in your early twenties again armed with ignorant bliss and a strong liver.
Emotional immaturity mixed with the chronic boozing makes for predictable and terrible results as most of the main characters descend into their individual self-destructions, while two of them carry out vengeance against one another that is hair raising to behold. The story thoroughly held my attention throughout.
I was amazed to learn the entire film was shot on the thinnest shoe string possible, a mere $17,000. I don't exaggerate in hazarding a guess if the biggies in Hollywood would have attempted the same screen play, it would have cost at least 200 times as much with predictably dubious results.
I can only describe this film as a purposely tainted gem. Lost members of a generation held up raw for all to see.