The Rules of Attraction
Oh, college movies.
We all remember those days, when drinking a fifth of whiskey was nothing and we could wake up the next day and run a mile. When there was still some glimmer of magic about sexual attraction. When the world seemed only accidently and occasionally devoid of meaning and morality, instead of intentionally so. For many of us, college was odd time, full of magic and despair and optimism and the horrible, yet certain, feeling that those really were the days of our lives, and began to fear the position in life we all knew was coming when college would seem nostalgic.
Most college movies, frankly, are unbearable. Sure, we all enjoyed them as drunken, immature young adults, but after sobering up and enduring some life experience, all those movies seem so – stupid. Road Trip is among the worst. The main protagonist is a bad person, who cheats on his girlfriend and hijacks his friends to intercept a sex tape before she sees it. But the worldview of the movie is even worse: she was also cheating on him, and expected him to have done the same. That’s some pretty unromantic validation of self-interest if I’ve ever seen it, which would be an enjoyable relief where it not for the constant low humor and shallow characters, and some of the worst “comedy” Tom Green was ever allowed to legally commit.
The Rules of Attraction, however, is quite a different movie. Based on a novel by Bret Easton Ellis, this college movie is increasingly dark, cynical, and nihilistic. It follows three college students, each of varying degrees of selfishness, as they engage in a bizarre love triangle that is only resolved by the utter collapse of the idea of love itself. It’s stylish and smart, with many shots filmed backwards, although it doesn’t go to the full lengths of unreliability in narration that the novel does.
The first character is Lauren Hynde, played by the amazingly beautiful and talented Shannyn Sossamon, who is a somewhat prudish but impressionable student who quickly becomes interested in Sean Bateman, the brother of none other than the big bad wolf Patrick himself. Sean is dangerous, often indulging high-risk behavior and a litany of felonies, but is also charming and hides a sentimentalism that none of the other characters share. He’s played by James Van Der Beek, who gives a charismatic, unforgettable performance literally no one saw coming. The third main character is Paul Denton, well-played by Ian Somerhalder, an open homosexual who has a passionate, wild crush on Sean, but who seems to like him more as a fantasy rather than who Sean actually is.
There’s other ancillary characters, such as Laruen’s maybe boyfriend Victor, who leaves school for a trip in Europe, as if he’s the son of a 19th century grandee. A large part of the movie follows his adventures, which are high-energy and decadent. Victor himself is little more than a self-absorbed hedonist, nether good nor bad, just out to have a good time and care as little for the repercussions that creates in the lives of others.
Another character is Lara, Laruen’s roommate. Lara – played by Jessica Biel – is sexually assertive and morally indifferent, but not repugnant as such characters usually are in movies that like to punish such things. The movie takes a few jabs at her, this is true, but there’s no malice in it.
Perhaps the most striking thing about the Rules of Attraction is its shocking and moving suicide scene. It’s tough to watch. The pain is realistic, and the suffering of the woman killing herself is shown without sentiment or sarcasm, although the soundtrack pulls more than a few heartstrings if you’re easily moved.
Ultimately, Sean and Lauren have a conflict I won’t spoil, and Sean finally realizes Paul’s true intentions, with devasting results. The three are left alone and jaded, with Laruen – the most intelligent of the lot – having come to understand that love is an illusion, a mere projection of ourselves unto someone else that fractures at the first crack of confrontation. She has the greatest line in the movie. “You don’t know me. No one ever knows anyone.” She also has a great conversation with Paul in the snow that could serve as a manifesto for disillusioned, sexually indifferent, world-weary adults who have realized that even sexuality itself is shallow, devoid of real pleasure, and leads to no greater an understanding either of yourself or others.
That would be a good message to the gender-obsessed kids of today.
The Rules of Attraction is a wonderful, powerful and wicked movie that can hold its own against some of the best movies ever made. It has its silliness, and its faults, and is a little too indulgent, but expecting it not to be in the early 2000s might be a little too much to ask. It’s certainly the best college movie I’ve ever seen. It’s a classic, and remains a deep expression of what college life was like at those twilight times, right after 9/11 but before the world moved on a narcistic indulgence of politics and social media.
I give it five stars.
Oh, college movies.
We all remember those days, when drinking a fifth of whiskey was nothing and we could wake up the next day and run a mile. When there was still some glimmer of magic about sexual attraction. When the world seemed only accidently and occasionally devoid of meaning and morality, instead of intentionally so. For many of us, college was odd time, full of magic and despair and optimism and the horrible, yet certain, feeling that those really were the days of our lives, and began to fear the position in life we all knew was coming when college would seem nostalgic.
Most college movies, frankly, are unbearable. Sure, we all enjoyed them as drunken, immature young adults, but after sobering up and enduring some life experience, all those movies seem so – stupid. Road Trip is among the worst. The main protagonist is a bad person, who cheats on his girlfriend and hijacks his friends to intercept a sex tape before she sees it. But the worldview of the movie is even worse: she was also cheating on him, and expected him to have done the same. That’s some pretty unromantic validation of self-interest if I’ve ever seen it, which would be an enjoyable relief where it not for the constant low humor and shallow characters, and some of the worst “comedy” Tom Green was ever allowed to legally commit.
The Rules of Attraction, however, is quite a different movie. Based on a novel by Bret Easton Ellis, this college movie is increasingly dark, cynical, and nihilistic. It follows three college students, each of varying degrees of selfishness, as they engage in a bizarre love triangle that is only resolved by the utter collapse of the idea of love itself. It’s stylish and smart, with many shots filmed backwards, although it doesn’t go to the full lengths of unreliability in narration that the novel does.
The first character is Lauren Hynde, played by the amazingly beautiful and talented Shannyn Sossamon, who is a somewhat prudish but impressionable student who quickly becomes interested in Sean Bateman, the brother of none other than the big bad wolf Patrick himself. Sean is dangerous, often indulging high-risk behavior and a litany of felonies, but is also charming and hides a sentimentalism that none of the other characters share. He’s played by James Van Der Beek, who gives a charismatic, unforgettable performance literally no one saw coming. The third main character is Paul Denton, well-played by Ian Somerhalder, an open homosexual who has a passionate, wild crush on Sean, but who seems to like him more as a fantasy rather than who Sean actually is.
There’s other ancillary characters, such as Laruen’s maybe boyfriend Victor, who leaves school for a trip in Europe, as if he’s the son of a 19th century grandee. A large part of the movie follows his adventures, which are high-energy and decadent. Victor himself is little more than a self-absorbed hedonist, nether good nor bad, just out to have a good time and care as little for the repercussions that creates in the lives of others.
Another character is Lara, Laruen’s roommate. Lara – played by Jessica Biel – is sexually assertive and morally indifferent, but not repugnant as such characters usually are in movies that like to punish such things. The movie takes a few jabs at her, this is true, but there’s no malice in it.
Perhaps the most striking thing about the Rules of Attraction is its shocking and moving suicide scene. It’s tough to watch. The pain is realistic, and the suffering of the woman killing herself is shown without sentiment or sarcasm, although the soundtrack pulls more than a few heartstrings if you’re easily moved.
Ultimately, Sean and Lauren have a conflict I won’t spoil, and Sean finally realizes Paul’s true intentions, with devasting results. The three are left alone and jaded, with Laruen – the most intelligent of the lot – having come to understand that love is an illusion, a mere projection of ourselves unto someone else that fractures at the first crack of confrontation. She has the greatest line in the movie. “You don’t know me. No one ever knows anyone.” She also has a great conversation with Paul in the snow that could serve as a manifesto for disillusioned, sexually indifferent, world-weary adults who have realized that even sexuality itself is shallow, devoid of real pleasure, and leads to no greater an understanding either of yourself or others.
That would be a good message to the gender-obsessed kids of today.
The Rules of Attraction is a wonderful, powerful and wicked movie that can hold its own against some of the best movies ever made. It has its silliness, and its faults, and is a little too indulgent, but expecting it not to be in the early 2000s might be a little too much to ask. It’s certainly the best college movie I’ve ever seen. It’s a classic, and remains a deep expression of what college life was like at those twilight times, right after 9/11 but before the world moved on a narcistic indulgence of politics and social media.
I give it five stars.