"There are movies that define every decade," reads the audacious tagline to Body Shots, a new movie about club-hopping L.A. twentysomethings, presumably referring to itself rather than simply offering a general observation. While that may be true, it's also true that there are movies defined by the decade in which they appear, films that offer up kitsch for viewers in future decades. Filled with cluelessly self-involved, nondescript, fashionably attired characters, a thumpingly generic electronica soundtrack, AIDS and bondage references, and the umpteenth halfhearted portrayal of L.A. as a morally bankrupt hellscape, Body Shots lacks only a subplot involving stripper abuse to be the quintessential bad youth-oriented film of the late '90s. Over the course of one eventful night and the afternoon that follows, eight Los Angelenos—including Jerry O'Connell, Sean Patrick Flanery, and Tara Reid—drink heavily and talk to each other (and occasionally the camera) about love and sex, especially sex. Michael Cristofer (Gia) directs Body Shots as if he were preparing a demo reel for future auditions, and while his undeniable stylishness occasionally proves effective, it mostly seems like a cover for his film's vacuousness. Jumping recklessly from uninvolving drama to dreadful comedy (apart from some bright moments courtesy of Office Space's Ron Livingston), Body Shots seems to be searching for a direction. It eventually finds one in its second half, but that direction is toward a was-she-or-wasn't-she Rashomon-for-idiots rape drama. A film every bit as shallow as its characters, Body Shots seems to aim for a Blow Up-like examination of the hollowness of contemporary culture, but it ultimately arrives at the conclusion that things would be just fine if everyone slowed down a bit and didn't drink so much. Still, O'Connell deserves some praise. He may not be a great actor but, as usual, he's so damn enthusiastic in his role as a boorish pro football player—even when forced to spout lines like "If pussy's on the menu, I'm there!"—that it hardly matters.