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Not that Foxes isn't ultimately a fun guilty pleasure. I find Lyne is at his best when he is slowly sucking me into discomfort, and Foxes is splendid at causing my brow to furrow. Opening with slow pan close-ups of sleeping teenage bodies, thirteen-year-old Laura Dern (in her credited debut) waxing poetic about diaphragms, and Randy Quaid setting the screen on fire as an alluring, rock album designing pedophile. This movie has a little bit of something to render everyone queasy. It's like a Winston Smith collage of terrible high school decisions.
None of this is by accident, of course. Foxes goes out of its way to be seedy and look dingy, often seeming to exist in an alternate California absent of artificial interior lighting.
Every member of the young cast does a terrific job. Even the smaller contributions are sharp, including those from a young Scott Baio, as well as Dern and Quaid, already mentioned. Jodie Foster is her creepy best leading the cast in her patented "stoic forty-year-old in a little girl's body" routine. Foster earns the spotlight, but most of the biggest whatthefucks come from Cherie Currie, the teenage lead singer of girl-group The Runaways, who plays Annie, the BURNED OUT fifteen-year-old runaway. That girl knows how to play "disaster whore" with shudder-inducing definition.
So, final verdict: fun, fucked, exploitive. Thus, big recommendation.