River’s Edge (1986)

River's Edge is not a film I will forget very soon. Its portrait of these adolescents is an exercise in despair.

No other film captures more accurately what it’s like to be dead inside during the end of the Cold War, the height of MTV and the invasion of concerned but impotent parents.

A disquieting tale set in the grim realities of trashy America. Some great, often insane performances make it a memorable trip.

It’s sloppily written, heavy-handed, and tonally inconsistent—but it remains striking for its bleakness and a smattering of bizarre, unhinged performances from Crispin Glover, Daniel Roebuck, and Dennis Hopper.

This generation's postpunk worldview is rooted in nihilism, detachment, and fear of nuclear annihilation--nothing matters to them except friends, rock 'n' roll, and getting stoned. River's Edge also boasts the best cast of unknowns since Francis Ford Coppola's The Outsiders. Reeves and Skye are superb as the moral centers of the film, Roebuck is great as the killer, and the supporting performances are also impressive. Glover and Hopper go over the top and get away with it.