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No wonder American kids are f**ked up

No wonder American kids are f**ked up

After glowing reviews from comedy genius Simon Pegg (who laments, rightly, for the days when we saw films instead of reading about them) and Jonathan Ross I went to see a preview of Napoleon Dynamite.

It’s not the greatest film of all time, or the funniest, but it does have a unique languid charm. It’s so slow as to be stillborn, with a bizarre set of characters, and naturally there’s no plot. It reminds me of the odd week I’d spend in smallsville America – the stillness of the air, the deserted streets – although without having to attend high school.

I can’t say I enjoyed the film, but then I do have a perhaps unique antipathy towards films featuring teenagers, quasi-teenagers or set in American high schools.

My childhood wasn’t exactly fantastic, but compared to what it must have been like growing up in idaho, I had a right blast. Certainly (even accounting for the outrageousness of Napoleon Dynamite) I would have been mortified at the prospect of a high school prom and the election campaign. Hell, the annual school disco was enough of a torture.

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