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It’s an aesthetic that presaged everything from the Girls Gone Wild videos to the cheerleader epic Bring It On to “gay-for-pay” Web sites like. Clark’s approach to things is reckless, voyeuristic, often contradictory, and deeply indiscreet. But spend a little amount of time on YouTube or Veoh, where college students upload videos of themselves exposing assorted body parts, or peruse a few MySpace blogs, where teenagers chronicle every last mundane detail of their private lives, and you realize that propriety has long since left the building. These kids know no boundaries, and Clark-who often dives right into bed alongside them-doesn’t, either. Because while Clark might very well be a pornographer, a hypocrite, and whatever else you want to call him, he’s also the only American director working today whose work reckons with the complexities of our current generation of MySpace exhibitionists, and especially the way so many young people today seem to relish their own exploitation. Taken together, these may be the movies that finally make it impossible for critics to go on denying the director’s extraordinary ambition and influence. This year heralds the return of Larry Clark to cinema: His sixth feature, Wassup Rockers, just opened in New York (it will slowly make its way across the country throughout July and August) and Impaled, his brilliant contribution to the short-film omnibus Destricted, will reach theaters in the fall. Well, the party line isn’t necessarily wrong.
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Among many other things, Clark is regarded as a cynical, two-faced moralist who pretends to be wringing his hands about contemporary teenagers’ hyper-sexualized lives, even as he exploits those teenagers’ bodies at every turn and as a wildly undisciplined storyteller who throws his plot to the wayside when the opportunity arises for his attractive young actors to remove their clothes and parade around in designer underwear. “This turd is just a self-indulgent nihilistic nightmare of masturbation fantasies by an old man for old men who can rationalize the abuse of the work itself away,” wrote the Internet columnist David Poland, in a review that seemed to encapsulate the party line on Clark. Which is to say: It was greeted like a crime against humanity. When it first began screening on the film-festival circuit, Ken Park-which was co-directed with cinematographer Ed Lachman, and which also features a hard-core scene in which a scrawny teenager (James Bullard) performs cunnilingus on his girlfriend’s mother (Maeve Quinlan)-was greeted like just about every Larry Clark movie before it, including Kids (1995), Another Day in Paradise (1997), Bully (2001), and the made-for-cable Teenage Caveman (2002).