Prozac Nation certainly took it's time making it's way to the video shelves. Still it's blink-and-you- missed-it release in 2003 effectively piqued one's curiosity. In spite of it's decidedly negative critical reception the image of Christina Ricci sitting tits-ahoy fully nude on a bed was enough to keep the film alive and well in the back of one's cortex. Ricci's transition from child star to adult actress hasn't been the smoothest affair, but the fact that her breast development has so consistently out-paced her maturation as an actress has certainly kept an avid film buff like myself interested in her career. From the photo accompanying this review it's difficult to accurately deduce if Prozac Nation was filmed before or after her breast reduction surgery. As thin as she is in this film it could well have been before the regrettable regression, but my memory of her mammaries in (2003's) Monster and her ample gourds in (2002's) Pumpkin didn't add up until I checked imdb and learned that Prozac Nation was shot in (2001).

Even stranger is co-star Jason Biggs - who appears much older in this film than he did along side Ricci's doomed D-cups in Woody Allen's (2003) film Anything Else. The only answer to this mystery must be the weight loss, because the boobs displayed above (while obviously smaller than the twin towers of say Sleepy Hollow, are rather robust when compared to the streamlined models unveiled in the recent Cursed. If apologies are necessary for such a lengthy preamble, I suppose the reason all this mammary-mindedness has to do with the fact that Prozac Nation is nothing if not flat as a pancake.

Based on Lizzie Wurtzel's autobiographical novel of the same name, Prozac Nation chronicles the troubled collegiate years of the author herself. To put it simply Lizzie Wurtzel is a piece of work. Trying to put her messed-up childhood behind her by attending Harvard, Lizzie quite rapidly manages to alienate everyone within earshot. Her clinical Depression coupled with some sort of bottomless pit of self-loathing causes her to abuse everyone in her life. After making friend's with roommate Michelle Williams, she rather rapidly skids out of control in a blur of indiscriminate sex and drug abuse. And before the second act she's managed to have sex with Williams' true love - permanently destroying her relationship with the only person willing to take a chance on being friends with this mean-spirited loose cannon.

Ricci narrates the film and there are a few moments of light - in particular she wins a Rolling Stone reporting award for a lurid treatise on a Lou Reed concert. This segment of the film and Reed's surreal turn is certainly compelling and you have to credit Ricci with her willingness to play such a despicable individual. Her perverse and self-destructive tongue makes it impossible to like this character, even though your instinct is to root for her to overcome her black-hearted tendencies. But she is just so relentlessly dark and ugly to everyone (particularly her mother - played by Jessica Lange in another one of those "harried martyr" roles she seems to have gravitated toward) that it ultimately becomes a hopeless cause.

Prozac Nation was directed by Erik Skjoldbjaerg (don't expect spell check to help you out with that one) who did a much better job with the Pacino/Robin Williams thriller Insomnia - his difficulty in finding a workable rhythm for this film is palpable. Much of what takes place is so obviously designed to shock the audience that you do become somewhat immune to Lizzie's ways. But just when you think there may be some hope for her to sustain a few consecutive days of relative normalcy (particularly during her tryst with Jason Biggs - who she perceives as her savior) the demon that seems to control her tongue looses something that just lays waste to any chance of it.

Despite her bravado, Ricci isn't able to really carry off the part - the scenes with her estranged father are stilted beyond belief - even worse are the scenes where she torches her poor grandparents just to spite her Mother. The acting during these bits is nothing short of awful - and even an old pro like Lange can't salvage anything resembling good acting throughout much of the film. Rarely does her victimized neurotic motherness ring true - she just seems to shamble off the rails with no clear idea of what her character is all about. Which is to say nothing of the elusive accent she unsuccessfully chases from top to bottom.

The real laughing absurdity of the film is Anne Heche's portrayal of a psychoanalyst - I half expected Robert Downey Jr. to pop up as her drug-abuse counselor. Prozac Nation should have at the very least played as an insightful glimpse into the nature of mental illness - but even though there are several scenes between Ricci and Heche, there is nothing to be gained from them in terms of . . ..well in terms of anything.

For all it's frank and raw goings-on, and it's hollow message about the numbing-down of a nation courtesy of the proliferation of psych-meds, Prozac Nation is ultimately a bad movie about a bad person, that I can only recommend if you're like me and have an obsessive interest in Christina Ricci's tits. The film is no tease in that department, you certainly don't need to use your pause button to get an ample dose of those most mysterious melons.