It’s been 14 years since Whit Stillman made Last Days of Disco, that wretched piece of trash that made a mockery of his two masterpieces: Barcelona and Metropolitan. Damsels in Distress is better than Last Days of Disco, largely because it takes itself less seriously, and does not have Chloe Sevigny or Robert Sean Leonard weighing it down. It also rips off a good bit from Clueless , which helps give the film’s set-up the illusion of structure. But for anyone who loves and appreciates what Stillman was able to accomplish in his first two films, Damsels must seem like solid evidence that he has truly lost it – either his artistic touch, or his sanity.

What’s wrong with Damsels in Distress, compared to his earlier work? I’ll tell you! Barcelona and Metropolitan had stories! They had well-defined characters, they had continuous narrative development, they had a consistent (if unusual) approach to dialog, and they had something to say. These structural pillars supported a unique and amazing humor that was somehow part and parcel of the films’ deeply rewarding statements on the follies of the human condition and its portraits of basic human types. Damsels, on the other hand, has no story, no serious characters or leading characters, no narrative development, no hint or even pretense of realism, and no shred of connection to the real world. It’s a bunch of people saying weird things with bizarre affect. Basically, it’s a complete mess.

I’m not saying I didn’t somewhat enjoy watching this film. It’s so weird it’s kind of refreshing in a way. My wife and I laughed bit (in part because the giddy audience of 90’s Stillman nerds was in a hyperactive frenzy before and during the movie,) but it was the rather tentative laughter that tends to accompany Seinfeld-esque humor, or Tarantino-esque humor: humor constituted entirely of simplistic instances of outrageous juxtaposition, which in my book is only one step above potty humor. This is not necessarily a bad thing (I’m no snob,) but given that the film has literally nothing else to offer, the whole thing does resemble a giant and bizarre cotton candy.

As far as the performances go, everyone except Gretta Gerwig looks completely lost, but I think that’s largely because she is the only one that really has anything to say. Her two sidekicks never command any definite reaction from the audiance, nor do they feature prominantely in what passes for the film’s story. Analeigh Tipton is a big disappointment, clearly not grasping the Stillman gestalt. Adam Brody is his usual wonderful and charismatic self, but he has relatively little to do or say. The exception is Gerwig, who plays her bizarre role unselfconsciously and with great gusto; she is the only reason the film didn’t collapse into a black hole under its own gravity.

When you walk out of Damsels in Distress, the main question in your mind is “How did this thing ever get released?” If you are in the mood for utterly bizarre silliness, give it a try, but don’t expect vintage Whit Stillman. We can only hope and pray that one day he will produce another Barcelona or Metropolitan. My first recommendation to him, should he desire to do this: cast Chris Eigeman and Taylor Nichols in the lead roles, and start writing from there.