Mysterious, Deranged, But Also Kinda Hot | 3 Criminally Underrated Films
The Doom Generation (1995) – Gregg Araki
Ever wonder what would happen if a 90s mall goth, a sleazy drifter, and the concept of nihilism itself went on a road trip? “The Doom Generation” is a cinematic ode to antiheroes in leather jackets, traipsing through America’s seedy underbelly as the ultimate trio du jour.
Rose McGowan struts through a neon-drenched apocalypse in fishnets and sunglasses, flanked by two pretty boys who look like they crawled out of a 90’s Calvin Klein ad . James Duval stares into the void (and the void stares back).
Also, people keep dying, usually in ways that feel both hilarious and horrifying. It’s an ultra-violent fever dream where everything is soaked in red lighting and existential dread, but damn if it doesn’t look cool. Soundtracked by peak ‘90s alt-angst, this is the cinematic equivalent of making out in a gas station parking lot while the world crumbles around you.
The Rules of Attraction (2002) – Roger Avary
Rich, beautiful, and dead inside—welcome to Camden College, where everyone is either bored, high, or ruining someone’s life (sometimes all three at once).
James Van Der Beek ditches his Dawson’s Creek wholesomeness to play a sociopathic pretty boy, while the rest of the cast chain-smokes, takes pills, and stares blankly into the void of early-2000s privilege.
The fashion? Peak early 2000s indie sleaze—messy hair, thrift-store blazers, and the kind of sunglasses you only wear at night. The soundtrack? A chaotic mixtape of The Cure, Milla Jovovich, and Donovan that somehow just works.
It’s toxic, horny, and aesthetically immaculate—This is what happens when you take American Psycho’s annoying sibling, strip out the murder, and replace it with cocaine, heartbreak, and nihilistic sex.
Go (1999) – Directed by Doug Liman
It’s not every day you watch a movie that feels like it just sold you fake ecstasy in a club bathroom, but Go pulls it off with unsettling charm.
Doug Liman’s kinetic trip through late-’90s excess is a three-pronged ode to attractive people making questionable decisions in aesthetic outfits. It’s your one-way ticket to the neon-lit underbelly of rave culture, where the drugs are sketchy, the deals are botched, and the soundtrack slaps so hard you’ll need glowsticks just to keep up (shoutout to Len and Darude for the serotonin hits).
The movie doesn’t care if you get lost in its interwoven plotlines; it’s too busy handing out Red Bulls and grinding its teeth in the corner. Call it Pulp Fiction’s chaotic younger cousin, but with more strobe lights, questionable life choices, and Timothy Olyphant standing menacingly in a Santa hat.
Are there lessons to be learned? Probably not. Is it a vibe? Absolutely.