I seldom see a film with such a cast, such a potentially strong story and based on a bestselling book that has been this weak and to some extent unwatchable... <br /><br />The premise of a story reads like a Brent Easton Ellis novel - a lot of drugs, hopelessness and self-induced tragedy as a young Elisabeth Wurtzel (played by Christina Ricci) tries to cope with being a suicidal loser, that can't seem to accept that she is actually living a good life and that basically she is pathetic for being such a baby... <br /><br />Christina Ricci is not only playing a tragic personae, but also a tragic actor, whose sobbing and screeching for the most part of the movie actually make you want to shout - kill yourself already and let us get to the credits rolling... The director is of no help as he supplies absolutely no pace and the story feels so disjointed you have no idea what this damn girl is actually on about. The director apparently was on Prozac when directing this imitation of a movie and hence let the movie go on autopilot making it an unbearable mess.<br /><br />The only redeeming features are a sympathetic Jason Biggs, as Wurtzel's boyfriend (who thankfully decided to dump the self-indulgent egocentric egomaniac) and an unbelievably good Jessica Lange as the cry-babies mother. Lange apparently can not be brought down by terrible script, directing and dire co-actors. Pure class.<br /><br />I don't know if this is really who Wurtzel is or was, but the film has successfully made me totally uninterested in her writings.<br /><br />In the end I finished watching this movie and instantly started to think: OK. Time to watch something, that actually is about REAL problems...