A familiar cast of characters

Even if you've never been to Warsaw, Ind., you know the youths from Warsaw High who make up the cast of the documentary "American Teen."

There's Hannah, the artsy coed. Her interests -- art, movies, books -- disconnect her from the ground-level concerns of her parents and the rah-rah atmosphere of her student body.

She wants out of Indiana and has her eye on California. (A more-popular boyfriend, Mitch, gets considerable screen time, too.)

There's Colin, the ace basketball player. He's close to his dad, who moonlights as an Elvis impersonator. But money's tight, and Colin knows he'll need a scholarship if he wants to go to college.

Also, Megan Krizmanich, the coolest girl in school. Not to mention the richest and the one under the most pressure to attend the family school, the University of Notre Dame. All the advantages, but all the burdens, too.

And there's Jake, with a faceful of acne and a heartful of yearning. A band geek, Jake just wants to find a personal relationship with a girl and a direction that will fill the loneliness he deals with daily.

Sound like folks you know or knew? Of course, and that's the charm of Nanette Burstein's chronicle of these youths' senior year in the heartland. Burstein searches for special moments and puts them out front (skills she learned making other docs, notably 2002's "The Kid Stays in the Picture").

But Burstein wants more (and less). She adds animation and some quick-cut editing that supposedly aids transitions but which ultimately seem unnecessary.

Burstein has also acknowledged "re-staging" some moments with her subjects to "re-create" dramatic scenes. No real harm done, and it's good she owns up to it.

But she has also acknowledged having to bypass issues, like drug use, in order to gain access from high school administrators.

This seems similarly forgivable, since we've got ample sources for those sorts of problems.

Updates on the graduates' first years out of school add perspective, which is good, because by the film's end, they're fully recognizable as, well, more than just acquaintances.

The incomplete picture that's left, though, is mostly satisfying, and pleasant nostalgia for anyone who remembers (or wants to remember) what a senior year was like.