The first feature by Susan Seidelman (Desperately Seeking Susan, et al.) plays like a time capsule of downtown NYC in the moment after punk broke and people were still picking up the pieces. Feisty but talentless Wren (Susan Berman) uses what few social graces she has to ingratiate herself with various downtown types—an artist who lives in his van (Brad Rinn), a snotty “underground” musician (Richard Hell), and their various hangers-on. As abrasive as Wren is, we’re fascinated by her; to paraphrase a record review of old, she’s ambition wasted in trying to make it rather than trying to make something. The movie is frequently funny, but just as often wistful: it sees its characters with sympathy and not derision, and it’s not too hip for its own good. It’s a product of a time and a locale where being “indie” actually meant something, and the graffiti-splattered cityscape seems all the more alien in these increasingly sterilized times.