Although it caused quite a splash when it was marketed as "the gay Thelma and Louise" upon its release in 1992, The Living End isn't really much of an accomplishment. The first widely released effort from outré auteur Gregg Araki, the film lacks the Day-Glo pop aesthetic and urgent teen angst that made later efforts such as The Doom Generation such youth-culture tonics. The director's dense mise-en-scène is in full force here: Every CD cover, poster, and vintage toy on the periphery of the screen is presumably laden with hidden significance. But Araki's static shots and the amateurish performance of lead actor Craig Gilmore give the film a stilted feeling that's carried through in the aimless plot. Some of the early scenes, particularly a sequence involving a pair of homicidal lesbians, hint at a vague John Waters influence. But campy humor soon fades to existential blather and sex scenes (including a rape) as unrealistic as they are poorly staged. With so many deficiencies, all that's left to pass for substance is the film's HIV agitprop, which doesn't date well in light of subsequent advances in the treatment of AIDS; even at the time of The Living End's release, its political outlook seemed more self-pitying than liberating. There are a few affecting moments, such as the opening sequence, where the non-linear visual and sound editing present an impressionistic look at a harrowing session with an HIV counselor. But with the exception of Darcy Marta's concerned best friend, none of the characters or performances engenders any sort of empathy. Ultimately, The Living End seems more like a collection of hollow poses than it does a story about actual people.