Few directors have managed to encapsulate the paranoia, confusion, horniness and energy of youth like Gregg Araki. From the Bonnie and Clyde vibes of The Living End to the psychological complexity of The Doom Generation, Araki’s work challenges its audience to delve into the teenage mind.
Araki’s tongue-in-cheek, often violent, hormonal and insecure world of teen fantasies, uncomfortable realities, and uncontrollable hormones would define a new wave of ’90s indie cinema. Araki’s experimental playfulness would place queerness centre stage in a world where homophobia was still rife, illuminating one of the undeniable truths of teenage life: same-sex discovery and experimentation is not only the norm, it’s part of everyone’s coming-of-age journey.
Twenty-nine years on from its premiere, The Doom Generation still retains the award for one of the most fucked up film endings ever! But aside from its shocking conclusion, the second part of Gregg Araki’s “Teenage Apocalypse trilogy,” following Totally F***ed Up, remains one of the most audacious, fascinating and brave teen movies of the 90s. Its endless pop culture references, razor-sharp wit, and discussions of gender and sexuality continue to speak to our modern society; in fact, some would argue that its messages are even more urgent today, given the current political turmoil in the United States.
Labelled as a “heterosexual movie,” during the opening credits, The Doom Generation is anything but, as two teens pick up a violent, handsome drifter who sparks their interest and desires as a series of violent events unfold. In Araki’s twisted, sexy and brutal world, themes of sexual conformity, liberation, id, ego and superego combine to create a movie that demands multiple viewings, no matter how challenging the finale may be. And talking of that finale, as Araki nears the final gut-wrenching, upsetting, violent and sad conclusion, The Doom Generation’s message becomes clear: the darkest corners of society will always seek to destroy anything beautiful that deviates from their binary view of gender and sex.
The Doom Generation is a one-off gem of 90s independent cinema that has never been equalled in its ability to weave psychosexual discussion with themes of a changing youth experience in the 90s. Two years after the brutal and shocking finale of The Doom Generation, Araki would return with Nowhere, completing his trilogy. Nowhere would focus its lens on the paranoia of teenage life as the millennium came into view.
How many of you had discussions in your youth about the end of the world, dying young or surviving in a barren landscape where your friends and family had been wiped off the face of the Earth? Our teenage minds are a tangled mixtape of emotions and thoughts at the best of times, but when you add to that the raging hormones of our newfound desires, everything can seem pretty fucked up. We can feel alone, with nowhere to go.
Nowhere’s apocalyptic, drug-fuelled orgy of teenage dread, starring among others James Duval, Nathan Bexton, Christina Applegate, Ryan Phillippe and Rachel True, is as sharp today as it was in 1997, reflecting the anxieties, fears and hormonal rush of teendom through a series of interconnected vignettes.
Brave, bold and utterly compelling, Nowhere would conclude Araki’s “Teenage Apocalypse Trilogy,” but it would also set the scene for the 2004 arrival of one of his greatest films, the haunting and powerful Mysterious Skin.
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