This movie is a long, slow, earnest melodrama about small town twenty-somethings struggling to...you know...find themselves...get somewhere...grow up...ah, hell, I have no idea, really. The movie seems like it was shot through a thin layer of maple syrup, it's photographed so that we are stuck in that eternal autumn that permeates most small-town melodramas. All oranges, browns, and golds. The characters meander through their lives with little direction and no visible means of support. There's a factory which none of the characters seem to work in. Zooey Deschanel plays a very confused girl who is a virgin when she starts dating Paul Schneider. Schneider is a player (that's right, all of a sudden - totally out of nowhere - there are at least two babes in this town that we see Schneider has - inexplicably - laid. They wear professional makeup and look like the have their hair done in New York). He falls for Deschanel and doesn't screw her because he's a changed guy. It's his new self. So what does Deschanel's character do? SPOILER- MAJOR SPOILER - She screws some guy she just met at a weekend party at a lake. The whole rest of the film is devoted to the pain and inchoate ramblings of Schneider and the rest of the cast, all of whose lives seem to be hopeless and in need of doses of stiff, tough-sounding and superficial philosophies which, it appears, everyone can spout. Nothing like dead-end stultifying, small-town life to make a person a sage. The worst offenders are the virtually tongue-tied ramblings of Deschanel who can't, for the life of her - or any of the rest of us - speak in the simplest declarative sentences. While there are some rare moments of insight (the moments are rare, not the insights) in this movie, for the most part it is an incredibly self-indulgent, plodding little film dotted with stoner non-sequiturs, annoying and pointless little scenes where people, for no apparent reason, find themselves sitting in abandoned cars spouting puerile Hallmark Moments conjectures for no other reason than that the filmmakers apparently thought that would give it an art-house feel. Deschanel is fine as the wounded/wounding girl, Schneider is stiff, pasty, and dull as the boyfriend (he also wrote the story).