Project X

Pro­duc­er Todd Phillips ush­ers a trio of teens in front of direc­tor Nima Nourizadeh’s las­civ­i­ous lens for 90 min­utes of hedo­nis­tic, hand­held chaos. Project X doesn’t have the charm of, say, a Super­bad, but then suck­ing base cocaine through a glass cock is hard­ly what you’d call ​‘endear­ing’. It’s like a John Hugh­es film spi­ralling down the K‑hole, only Fer­ris Bueller wouldn’t last five min­utes at this joint.

The mock-doc style, so often employed as a lazy short­hand, works a treat here as we eaves­drop on a tale as old as Ani­mal House, fol­low­ing three like­able dudes get­ting their freak on for the road­block rave house-par­ty to end them all. The goal, as ever, is to improve their social stand­ing and get laid with var­i­ous Megan Fox-alikes. It’s helped no end by the fact that in Cal­i­for­nia teen movies, there’s a phat house with a pool and every­one, espe­cial­ly when danc­ing in slo-mo, looks impos­si­bly hip.

Oliv­er Coop­er plays Cos­ta, some kind of cross between Vince Vaugh­an in Swingers and Tur­tle in HBO’s Entourage, hus­tling a night of ​“balls-deep enter­tain­ment” to remem­ber. Gnome filled with ecsta­sy? Check. Men­tal midget in the oven? Check. Crazed flame-throw­ing drug deal­er en route to apply the come­down? Check.

Yes, there’s a for­mu­la at work, but the ener­gy of the per­for­mances which cap­ture those sweet moments of youth when any­thing is pos­si­ble, com­bined with Nourizadeh’s nim­ble edit­ing skills (honed on pro­mos for the likes of Hot Chip and Mark Ron­son), makes for an enter­tain­ing ride. It’s more than just anoth­er R‑rated swearathon.

If you’re still young enough to see in the sun­rise on a cock­tail of pills, booze and delir­i­um – or old enough to have sur­vived a few – this is one par­ty you’ll wish you’d been at.