Bodies twirl to maddening Edm tunes and wobble home at the break of dawn; nostrils are pierced, snort coke and puff smoke; mouths chew, bite, and meet in voracious kisses; legs squat, twitch, and thrust against naked bodies. Every frame of Henning Gronkowski’s electrifying feature debut Yung exudes a raw physicality, a primal and bodily beauty that springs out of an orgiastic tour de force into the drug-, booze- and sex-propelled lives of four Berlin-stranded teenage girls. Dancing between fiction and documentary until the distinction becomes irrelevant, this manic dream of a film conjures up an uncompromising ethnography at once hallucinatory as a drug-fueled trip, and hyperreal as its bodily aftereffects.
Unfurling like a plotless Bildungsroman caught halfway between Larry Clark’s Kids and Michal Marczak’s All These Sleepless Nights, Yung zeroes in on a quartet of 16 to 18-year-old best friends united by a sense of drift and different forms of self-destructive behavior.
Unfurling like a plotless Bildungsroman caught halfway between Larry Clark’s Kids and Michal Marczak’s All These Sleepless Nights, Yung zeroes in on a quartet of 16 to 18-year-old best friends united by a sense of drift and different forms of self-destructive behavior.
- 12/3/2018
- by Leonardo Goi
- The Film Stage
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