Mean Girls

BREATHE (B+) - This slow burn of a suspense film builds to a powerful conclusion, as a friendship between high school girls escalates into a rivalry.

Melanie Laurent (seen in "Inglourious Basterds" and here behind the camera for the second time) burrows deep into the psyche of two teenagers -- a good girl and a rebellious interloper -- establishing a deep bond that threatens to tear them both apart. Without hyperbole or horror-movie cliches, "Breathe" takes a rather calm approach to the intensity of young female friendships.

Suburban French teen Charlie (Josephine Japy) is a studious young lady living a mundane existence until bad-girl Sarah (Lou de Laage) transfers into her school and seeks her out as a friend. They fuse quickly, sharing a casual but combustible intimacy as Sarah drags Charlie toward the edge. But Sarah is unpredictable and unstable. She flips out on Charlie for introducing her to a friend as a "classmate" rather than as a friend.

When the inevitable fallout occurs, Sarah becomes an unrelenting bully. Charlie's asthma becomes an obvious metaphor for the the way in which Sarah took her breath away at first but then stifled her attempts to blossom. Charlie struggles to hold back a response until a shocking burst of violence that closes the film with a final haunting image.

Laurent joins a growing line of directors in recent years who have captured the dynamics among teenage girls during a critical phase of maturity. (See "It Felt Like Love" and "Girlhood" for two examples.) She has a facility behind the camera and knack for pacing. De Laage and Japy give bold, raw performances, unafraid of an intimacy that never feels exploitative.

Laurent eventually overplays her hand at the very end by relying on horror tropes that turn the drama up to 11, turning both girls into ogres. But the film is often compelling and beautifully shot.

HEAVENLY CREATURES (1994) (B) - This one, from a generation ago, ratchets up the intensity between its teenage heroines but also wigs out on over-the-top performances and pulpy fantasy sequences.

Ladies and gentlemen, meet future acting heavyweights Melanie Lynskey ("Hello, I Must Be Going," HBO's "Togetherness") and Kate Winslet, making their film debuts here as imaginative, sensitive girls who push the boundaries of friendship and sensuality in early '50s New Zealand. Lynskey is dark-haired and disturbed Pauline, a budding writer in a working-class home, and Winslet plays the prissier Juliet, the daughter of bourgeois Brits. Their connection grows into obsession and role-playing, with a shared love of Mario Lanza and a touching intimacy that horrifies their parents.

The girls role-play when they are together, occasionally exploring a heavenly fantasy world full of bright colors and their clay-model characters come to life and grown full size). They write each other religiously when apart (Juliet is sickly and spends time away in a TB ward). Juliet's parents threaten to take her back to Europe or send her off to South Africa, raising the stakes for the girls, desperate to stay together at any cost.

They hatch a scheme to murder Pauline's mother and use a stash of money to run off together. Will the parent push them over the edge? If you don't know the true story behind the script, you might get caught up in the building suspense.

Peter Jackson ("Lord of the Rings") is at the helm here, with longtime writing collaborator Fran Walsh dramatizing a true-crime page-turner. His pulpy production and extreme melodrama presage his worldwide success in bloated fantasy films. The over-the-top visuals have a cartoon quality that at times recalls Robert Altman's live-action "Popeye." One quick shot of the girls running on a pier and Pauline flying off into the water is breathtaking. Too often, though, Jackson seems to be merely showing off.

Both Lynskey and Winslet are called on to ham it up beyond reason. They scream and sob often, and Lynskey's brooding intensity and broad mannerisms scream "nut case" from the very start. (Don't forget her turn as the crazed stalker on the mainstream sitcom "Two and a Half Men.") Now accomplished, nuanced actors, they must look back at these performances and wince a bit. The adults all come off as both ordinary and monstrous, the enemies of these idealistic dreamers.

Flaws aside (Jackson has always been an acquired taste), this is a giddy expression of art and joyful storytelling. It's a historical artifact that launched two memorable careers. And it's an intense depiction of teen-girl bonding for the ages.