Review of "Myth of the American Sleepover"

There's something so Detroit, and so American, about "The Myth of the American Sleepover."

The Detroit part is easy to explain — it was shot here on a minuscule budget by first-time feature writer-director David Robert Mitchell, who grew up in Clawson; and its suburban mix is just right: brick ranches, sunburned lawns, a lake party, an abandoned factory, a drive to U-M. All on a long, warm summer night.

But it's the American naturalism that's striking: Kids walking along suburban streets, pillows and sleeping bags in hand, on the way to sleepovers. Girls crowded into living rooms, giggling and gossiping; guys slouched in chairs watching porn-tinged horror flicks.

Partiers daring one another to go skinny dipping — which nobody does. Drinking cheap vodka straight from the bottle. Adolescents pressing toward the mysteries of high school life. Older boys hitting on younger girls.

The structure to "Myth" is recognizable as a younger, tougher updating of "American Graffiti." Mitchell follows four kids as their paths crisscross on the last night of summer.

There's pierced and spirited Maggie (Claire Sloma), partying with older kids; new-to-town toughie Claudia (Amanda Bauer); and Rob (Marlon Morton), searching for a blonde beauty (Madi Ortiz) he spied in a grocery store.

They're all about to enter high school. And then there's college guy Scott (Brett Jacobsen), nursing a broken heart and dreaming of twins (Jade and Nikita Ramsey).

Most of these kids are new to film, and there's a sweet purity, almost like body memory, to the way they take on characters who probably aren't all that foreign.

Combine that with Mitchell's well-grounded overlapping stories — none of which spin out of control, all eminently recognizable and believable — and "Myth" manages to feel both uncommonly sincere and strikingly human.

A disclosure here: Madi Ortiz, the elusive blonde beauty, is the daughter of Detroit News photographer (and longtime friend) Max Ortiz.

Perhaps even more compromising, the houses and streets in this film look pretty much like the houses and streets in my neighborhood.

But most importantly, the kids in this film remind me of my kids. Heck, they remind me of me.

It's somewhat ironic that this most real-feeling film has the word "Myth" in its title. And it's downright amazing that Mitchell manages to incorporate a breezy dance number into the movie.

"The Myth of the American Sleepover" is an indie movie-lover's dream, one of those rare instances where a lack of budget and experience is trumped by heartfelt vision, natural talent and amateur enthusiasm.