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It’s fair to say that Palo Alto is another film by yet another Coppola charting the lives of the privileged and bored, but such an account underestimates Gia Coppola’s truthful and moving debut. Instead of attempting to scandalise viewers with a wake-up call to parents (like movies such as Gus Van Sant’s Elephant or Larry Clark’s Kids), Coppola focuses on the teens themselves, delivering their stories  (adapted from James Franco’s short story collection of the same name) with a welcome dose of compassion.

Plot seems to be the last thing on Coppola’s mind. The film vaguely follows April (Emma Roberts), a shy and serious girl who is seduced by her soccer coach, Mr. B (a perfectly creepy-charming Franco), and Teddy (Jack Kilmer), a good kid who ends up doing community service at a nursing home after a drunk-driving accident. However, Coppola’s lack of judgement extends past the more sympathetic leads to Emily (Zoe Levin), an isolated girl derided by her classmates as the “blowjob whore”, and the volatile Fred (Nat Wolff), Teddy’s troubled best friend.

Coppola, working with director of photography Autumn Cheyenne Durald, gives the film a dreamlike haze, lingering on peripheral details such as a dropped milkshake, rabbit-embroidered socks, or dying plants. Although we’ve seen similar stories of listlessness, flirtation and rebellion before, Coppola’s quiet, attentive filmmaking crafts an exquisite portrait of the tender moment between childhood’s end and the beginnings of adulthood. By rendering the rhythms of everyday teenage life with a cool, sympathetic and keenly aware eye, Coppola has created a film that feels like the most honest and relevant portrait of modern youth in years.