Spring Breakers (2013)
There’s a really telling moment about halfway through Harmony Korine’s Spring Breakers. It takes place during a heavily-armed montage set to Britney Spears’s “Everytime.” It’s funny, the juxtaposition of early 2000s pop ballad with bikini-clad robbery, and the use of indulgently overcranked slow motion really takes us along for the ride. The euphoria hits us much as it would our protagonists. Then there’s a close-up of James Franco with this shit-eating grill-grin on his face—I lost it, unable to keep myself together, bent over with hysteria. But then, before I can even finish my laugh, Korine cuts to a brutal shot of a gun coming down on a victim’s face with blood dripping onto the floor. I stopped laughing. Our spring break bandits didn’t.
It’s as if Brit and Candy (Ashley Benson and Vanessa Hudgens) have no conscience. The inner switch that flipped and told me, “this isn’t funny anymore,” doesn’t exist in them. They’re on a self-serving crusade, seeking out the next big thrill with a thirst for pleasure and an ignorance of consequence.
The same cannot be said for their two friends. Though it takes awhile for Cotty (played by the director’s wife, Rachel Korine), a brush with death finally flips her switch. For Faith (Selena Gomez), it comes much earlier. Gomez is surprisingly emotive as she convey’s Faith’s discomfort and unease with the way the group’s spring break is turning out. It’s an identifiable feeling, having one’s conscience kick in, and she’s instrumental in voicing what the audience has likely already begun to suspect.
Underneath cinematographer Benoît Debie’s glamorous, neon-hued representation of spring break runs an ominous undertone. Douglas Crise and Adam Robinson’s context-defying editing also suggest a propensity for peril. And it’s quite possible that the combination of these two elements best define Spring Breakers. It’s a provocative and hypnotic experience.
Still, there’s more at work beneath the surface. (Korine himself has mentioned the concept of “surfaces” being integral to Spring Breakers.) By bookending the film with gratuitous shots of spring break debauchery, one gets the sense that Korine is taking a derisive shot at the college-aged generation. Brit and Candy and their unbridled pursuit of selfish fun are analogous to today’s YOLO-mantric youth.
Note the pseudo-philosophy Korine has written in. In a phone call to her mother, Brit contemplates, “I think that’s the meaning of life, to just be happy and have fun.” In contrast with Faith’s earlier wish of pausing life and living in the moment forever, Brit’s ideology seems downright ludicrous. While Faith was aware that she was wishfully thinking, Brit genuinely believes that her philosophy is sound. She’s convinced that the way of life she’s discovered is sustainable. Korine’s commentary is scathing.
By the film’s conclusion, it’s plainly obvious that Brit and Candy have no misgivings. Even Franco’s Alien, fearless and feral throughout, reaches a point of humane doubt. "Are we really going to do this? Are we really going to do this?" His invitation to exit the highway of decadence repeats like a well-advertised rest stop. For Brit and Candy, there’s no getting out of the fast lane. From Korine, the suggestion might be, “grab a map.”
3/4