Blech. This was one of those stupid hipster teen movies where incredibly hot chicks fall inexplicably in love with skinny douchey whiners who play bass. Subtract everything that was cool from Scott Pilgrim and you'll have this movie.Norah (Kat Dennings) is an uptown girl obsessed with ridiculously obscure bands. She is usually accompanied by her friend Caroline, whose coping mechanism is to get blind drunk. To be fair, if I was being dragged all over the five buroughs to listen to one miserable garage band after another, I'd probably be an alcoholic too. Since Norah attends an upscale girls academy, there is the obligatory Snotty Bitch. Her name is Tris and her one joy in life is feeding off the suffering of hipster boys. One in particular keeps sending her mix CDs in an effort to win her love. Norah intercepts these tokens before they hit the bottom of the trash bin since the music "speaks to her" or some such shit.
At one of the underground shows, Tris confronts Norah with the fact that she will die alone so Norah retaliates by grabbing the first frail kid she can find. It just so happens to be Tris' most recent victim and the creator of all those sublime mixes, Michael Cera.
I have to pause for a moment and scrub my eyes with a Brillo pad to get that image out.
His two gay bandmates (who might be the only likable characters in the movie) decide that it is fate and push the two together. They take charge of the passed out Caroline and promptly lose her after a run to Gray's Papaya. I wish I could say wacky hijinks ensue, but they really don't. It's just bored kids tooling over NYC in shitty cars searching for a drunk girl and the next underground show.
The two main characters may share the same names as The Charles' but there is nowhere near the level of charm or charisma.
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