Review: I Love You, Beth Cooper
It didn’t take long to realize Larry Doyle had a background in television while reading “I Love You, Beth Cooper.” His book tried to be a John Hughes like teenage rom-com with Superbad mixed in. You couldn’t help but see the movie playing in your head while reading the book. There was fighting, police cars, kissing, beer and a wild party. However, at the end I didn’t find myself rooting for the hero. I was just happy to be done with it. The characters were flat and I found them mostly sad and pathetic. Doyle included every one-note stereotype he could think: the dorky virgin, the head cheerleader, the kind-of-gay best friend, the slutty ditz, coke-up steroid freak and even a black guy who sells drugs (Doyle actually called him a black wigger and was one of just two black people in the school). What is meant to feel like a night of discovery is left feeling like a night of stupid choices. It feels like a night that has gone horribly wrong where a concussion or a brain bleed w