L.A. is a depressing, hellish dystopia. We get it. L.A.'s totally f**ked up. We get it. In fact, there's a movie by that very name - Totally F***ed Up - directed by Gregg Araki 16 years ago. That said all that needs to be said on the subject of disenfranchisement, the lost generation, et cetera. Wrecked adds nothing new. But if you want even more nihilistic youth, there's Wrecked, a film that should have been a short, but instead has been stretched to 74 minutes, and most of that is sex. This isn't something you'll hear too often at ka-os|theory, but there is such a thing as too much sex. The line between art and porn can be a thin one. If Michael Lucas, and even Randy Blue, can produce plot-driven porn movies with bad actors having sex, what does that make an indie movie with virtually no plot and barely legal actors having non-simulated sex? And the sex in Wrecked is real, graphic, and protracted. For some, there might be a visceral thrill to be derived from real actors having real sex up on the big screen, but for me it's just sordid and depressing. It's like watching straight porn. Don't get me wrong - I'm not adverse to a bit of urban dystopia. Tsai Ming-Liang, my favourite director, portrays it beautifully in films like The Riverand Rebels of the Neon God. There's nothing remotely beautiful in Wrecked, least of all the characters, all of whom are relentlessly vile. The worst crime perpetrated by Wrecked (topping poor sound quality and bad acting) is that it's boring. We can forgive anything at all, but not that. Title quote: "I don't care for modern films. Cars crashing over cliffs and close-ups of people's feet." Lillian Gish, American actress, 1893-1993.