Exhausting, soulless. The work of a self-hating hipster.

A few interesting ideas (a white rapper gets his balls slapped, a small-town civic dispute is shamelessly co-opted by hipster D-bags, etc.), but the project as a whole is snickering, hollow and indifferent. Exhausting. It's an anti-hipster comedy made by a closet hipster; as mean-spirited as a Todd Solondz film, but without the balls.

Making fun of white rappers, teen-idol wannabes and Brooklyn hispters is trite, and ultimately not as hysterical or brilliant as Cross thinks it is.

[Credit where it's due, there is some cute anti-hipster satire:
- A zipcar from Brooklyn to upstate New York for an indefinite stay
- "Oh my God! That's the pothole!"
- Donovan, Harris, Larson, Cyrus, Marshall... (*barf*)
- "Janelle has to finish her documentary on hopscotch that weekend..."
- Masturbating to Anthropologie (though it's possible she wasn't on Anthropologie. Or masturbating.)]

It's extremely obvious that Cross hates every single one of his characters, but if you've heard his standup in recent years, that's not surprising. What is surprising is that Cross has a brilliant comedic mind, but somehow it doesn't translate to his screenwriting. The film is also extremely flat, visually. Moreso than your average teen sex comedy. Which isn't a let down in and of itself. The problem is that teen sex comedies, by their very nature, have a soul. 'Hits' is just arrogant, out-of-touch and whiny.