It's sort of fun. The majority of the aimless, alienated characters in subUrbia have trouble getting exciting about anything, and in turn it's a bit difficult to get excited about their lives. The screenplay, written by performance artist Eric Bogosian and based on his play of the same name, revolves around a group of friends who habitually hang out in the parking lot of a convenience store (known as "the Circle A"). They live in a flat, bleak, featureless town that resembles the more franchised parts of Tucson. (The film was shot in Austin, Texas.) Jeff (Giovanni Ribisi), the closest thing the ensemble cast has to a main character, has dropped out of community college to live in a pup tent in his parents garage and "do a little writing." He and his group of loser, depressed friends talk about getting out of their ugly suburb the way Gilligan and his buddies used to talk about going back to civilization.

Unlike Slacker, which presented an exuberant, joyful look at the creative possibilities of not having a life, subUrbia focuses on the darker aspects of loserdom. This, I think, takes a little more finesse, and subUrbia is at its worst when it pauses to let its characters explain the gritty intricacies of disaffection. Fortunately, the movie doesn't wallow in it too much, and the appearance at the Circle A of Pony (Jayce Bartok), a mellow, center-parted, folk rocker who got out and made it big, shakes the pack of friends out of their complacency. Not only is Pony a geek, he's taken his geekdom and used it to hit the big time. He has fans. He has a limo. The kids on the corner are excited to be close to fame, and they can barely control their jealousy.

Events unravel in subUrbia much as they would in a play. The script originated on the stage and you can still see the theatrical structure of the story. The plot is character-driven; most of the movie takes place in two or three locations and actors spend a lot of time explaining their movements and motivations. Something is lost or missing in the transition: Begosian's critically acclaimed play comes off as melodramatic and overblown in parts (especially the Big Climax), and subUrbia doesn't have the dynamic, roving energy that almost all movies have, since the most exciting parts of the story happen off screen. Take this structure and add a bunch of stuck, bored characters and you have a film that becomes more and more claustrophobic as it progresses.

Maybe, though, this is the whole point. Maybe a story about directionlessness and boredom is bound to make the audience squirm a little, especially when the audience is made up of the same basic type of people portrayed in the film. Still, subUrbia has a lot of strengths less ambiguous than its claustrophobic effect. Linklater is great with actors, and most of the performances are terrific. Dina Spybey, a young actress known for her movie-of-the-week work, is amazing as Bee Bee, a wounded, mousy, recovering alcoholic whose genuine pain makes the angst of her friends look like a romp in the park. Also wonderful is Amie Carie, discovered in a college production of subUrbia, as Sooze, an earnest, talentless performance artist, and the only one of the bunch who seems to feel any joy at being alive. The cast also features Steve Zahn from That Thing You Do as Buff, an annoying sex maniac, and the ultra-urbane Parker Posey, playing the same very funny character she usually plays.

If you've escaped to the movies enough and want to see the real machine of youthful angst in action, subUrbia is just the ticket.