In his latest film, Curtis Jackson plays the menacing purveyor of a superdrug called Twelve. (Photo by Jonathan Wenk, Radar Pictures/Original Media)
Story Created:
Aug 4, 2010 at 4:28 PM PST
Story Updated:
Aug 4, 2010 at 4:50 PM PST
Prejudice can sometimes make us feel very smug and secure.
Confession: I’ve never seen an episode of “Gossip Girl,” the CW drama about over-sexed, over-privileged, young and pale Manhattanites.
Fortunately, I can forgo the TV dial on that one but when the premise transfers over to the big screen it’s something that a Hollywood entertainment reporter can’t avoid.
But this isn’t for a teenage reboot of “Sex and the City,” but rather a cringingly self-indulgent, narcissistic exercise in pretentious filmmaking entitled “Twelve.”
Based on a bestselling novel by Nick McDonell that skewered his own wealthy and obnoxious teenage clan on the Upper East Side, the movie stars Chace Crawford as White Mike, a James Dean-ish drug dealer who sells high-grade weed to his partying friends.
However, Mike draws the line at dealing the newest and deadliest kick — a superdrug called Twelve, which is the particular draw for his supplier, Lionel, menacingly depicted by Curtis “50 Cent” Jackson.
And although his role is more of an extended cameo, it’s only Lionel who packs any punch at all in this redundant tale of clueless rich kids at play.
Directed by Joel Schumacher (“St. Elmo's Fire,” “Flawless”), it’s written by Jordan Melamed and showcases other young magazine faces, including Emma Roberts, Emily Meade, Rory Culkin and Billy Magnussen.
As we’re told in a seemingly pointless voiceover (Kiefer Sutherland), White Mike is mourning the death of his cancer-stricken mother while running his successful operation.
He has basic contempt for all his Paris Hilton-like customers and a large dollop of self-pity, mournfully standing on the rooftop of his hideout, wondering whether to jump.
He never does, of course, but it gives Schumacher a chance to do a bit of showy dreamscape, as White Mike imagines being buried with his mother and taking a walk in the park with his former nanny.
And while we’re on the subject, it’s never entirely clear why White Mike is engaging in such a dangerous pursuit in the first place.
He’s obviously bright and was apparently heading to Harvard; there’s a mention of his father’s restaurant going bust, but White Mike later takes a pivotal phone call from dad in the restaurant.
The only bright spot in his life is Molly (Roberts), the studious, lower middle-class, good girl who’s been in love with him since they were childhood friends.
Meanwhile, White Mike’s cousin, whom he looks after, is really strung out on Twelve.
Then an ill-advised, attempted jacking of Lionel will see the streets and Park Avenue collide in the kind of bloody mayhem that fans of the New York Post’s must-read gossip column Page Six would dine out on forever.
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