Jacob Aaron Estes' extraordinary writing and directing debut Mean Creek at first appears to be a particularly skillful entry in the burgeoning subgenre of cautionary youth dramas—see last year's hysterical Thirteen for a dire example—dedicated to the proposition that the kids today most assuredly aren't alright. In the film's kinetic opening scenes, Sharon Meir's masterful cinematography lingers over budding adolescent bodies with a nervy energy that can't help but recall the sex-saturated oeuvre of Larry Clark. Thankfully, Estes eschews the photographer-turned-director's brittle misanthropy and penchant for sensationalism in favor of a more delicate take on the cruelty and heightened emotions of adolescence. Sure, the intricately observed inhabitants of Estes' teenage wasteland smoke pot, drink beer, and sometimes heap abuse on each other, but most are guided by a nagging sense of morality that never becomes moralistic.
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