Johnny remands Zack to the care of his friend and right-hand man, Frankie (Timberlake); happy to be free of his oppressive suburbanite parents, Zack drinks, gets high and plays video games with his kidnappers, whom he sees as newfound friends.
Cassavetes tries to get at something worthwhile here: the idea that white, middle-class youths adopting gangster poses from hip-hop culture don't understand the very real consequence of playing at being thugs when real drugs and weapons are involved. It's too bad, then, that the performances and dialogue are clueless, forced and awkward and not at all convincing, even as people who are putting up obvious fronts.
Hirsch brings some genuine menace to his role, while Foster is sort of endearingly over the top. But Timberlake looks lost, like he's constantly checking just off-camera to see if Cassavetes approves of his choices. The director, too, doesn't seem to know how to focus his story, which calls for more explanation and less posturing.