Imagine, if you will, that someone had taken all the brain-damaged noodlings of softcore pornographers and decided to make a movie of them, omitting all the nudity and sex. You'd have something about as stupid as this movie. On film, it's a waste of celluloid, on DVD, it's a waste of silicon, on cable, it's a waste of bandwidth. In whatever medium it's a waste of your time. And nothing more.
This is, in short, exactly the sort of film that gives European filmmakers bad reputations, and which makes film buffs look stupid when they try to maintain that it's not a brain-dead collection of semi-arresting images. Fans of this film describe it as a metaphor, an allegory, a symbolic representation of something else. But like Burbank, there is no there there in this film. It probably has something to do with coming of age, but the "something" it has to "do" with is so blurry that it's just not worth the bother of bringing it into focus.
The film does have one redeeming feature: it makes you feel like going out and doing something useful in the world to make up for the 100 minutes you totally wasted watching it. Also, you probably didn't commit any felonies while watching it. And when not committing a felony while watching it is a film's major justification, you know it has to suck beyond belief.
