Thirteen

Catherine Hardwicke’s award winning film is an ‘issue’ film so if you find the work of Ken Loach too preachy by half, then this probably won’t float your boat. Equally, if you’re the proud and happy parent of a twelve year old, then it’s only fair to warn you that you might find this disquieting viewing. If however, you write for a tabloid newspaper and are in urgent need of some salacious material to go with that ‘Won’t somebody think of the children!’ headline, then this will probably be your film of the year.
A graphic and brutally honest depiction of what bored, surburban teenage girls get up to once the hormones hit, Thirteen’s young adolescent protagonists engage in sexual acts, self-mutilation, drugs, alcohol, shop-lifting and considerable bouts of screaming. Naturally, these horrendous rites-of-passage have divided audiences into those who wonder what’s gone wrong with the youth of today, and those who wonder if the girls could benefit from more effective inhaling techniques.
Of all the film’s challenging components, the scenes involving ‘cutting’ have proved the most controversial, but Hardwicke handles the matter deftly and thoughtfully without resorting to shock value. That in itself is a massive coup when you consider how alarmist and lurid the material could have been, but entirely in keeping with this broadminded, good-humoured project. Hell, she even manages to wring sublime moments of humour from the hystrionics.
It certainly seems to have helped that the script was written in conjunction with the then thirteen year old star Nikki Reed, for Thirteen will feel intensely authentic in its depiction of youthful female bravado and rivalry, even if you happily missed out on some of the excesses portrayed here.
Difficult and disturbing, but for all the right reasons.
101mins. Cert 18. Opens December 5