The coming of age of a tedious, immature narcissist

We've seen this before: a self-absorbed, neurotic young person with creative gifts and crappy parents has a bright future if they don't destroy themselves first. Rushmore. The Squid and the Whale. The Perks of Being a Wallflower. Thumbsucker. Bright Lights Big City. Submarine. Charlie Bartlett. These movies are never about untalented mensches who lack self-destructive tendencies.

The difference is that this time it's a woman. (Well, Tiny Furniture and Ghost World too.) And the way the story is told is so blandly matter-of-fact that it's just not very interesting. The high point of the movie - and maybe Wurtzel's writing - is her review of Lou Reed.

Being a member of Gen X myself, I recall how Wurtzel was, along with Coupland, considered the literary voice of a generation. Most of those Xer 'Voice of a Generation', with a handful of exceptions like Linklater, are trivia answers and relics now. It's not hard to see why.