Mia McKenna-Bruce in How to Have Sex (Mubi)

There’s a moment in Molly Manning Walker’s striking debut when its 16-year-old protagonist, Tara (newcomer Mia McKenna-Bruce, giving a powerful, layered performance), walks down the desolate main drag of resort town Malia, Crete, in the golden-grey wee hours of the morning. She appears regretful, hungover, the street littered with debris of the partying summer breakers. It’s one of the many stirring images in Manning Walker’s film that seamlessly shifts between Tara’s giddy highs and destabilized lows.

At the outset, Tara and her two close girlfriends, Skye (Lara Peake) and Em (Enva Lewis), are British teens on holiday after completing secondary school. We see them hollering and laughing, seesawing around the town, and drinking (to sickness and oblivion). While the three have a few differences, they act mainly as a unit initially. Tara is petite in stature, with a loud and bubbly personality (played by McKenna-Bruce to an aptly irritating degree at first). Em, a lesbian, is also another free-spirited sidekick. Skye, taller and the owner of skimpy outfits for Tara to borrow, seems to be the confident ringleader of sorts. The trip, with its raucous club nights, pool parties, and contests (female contestants queasily egged on by older party promoters for the pleasure of men), is also one of design and pressure for Tara to lose her virginity.

In the beginning, Manning Walker’s film conjures Harmony Korine’s Spring Breakers, with a blaring electronic score by James Jacob (also known as London club DJ Jakwob) and in its saturated visual look filled with dayglo punctuated accents (neon lights, clothes, beach towels) as it revels in the shallow inanity of carousing teen discourse. The oft-handheld photography by Nicolas Canniccioni effectively captures the drunken bobbing and weaving feel. The film is not arch, but naturalistic and immersive, not viewing its characters ironically or distantly from afar.

As Tara and her friends link up with another group staying next door—led by the cheesy, seemingly innocuous, bleachy-blond party boy Badger (Shaun Thomas) and his quieter mate Paddy (Samuel Bottomley)—the story deepens. The hotel deck serenades, between the girls and the guys and their lesbian cohort, Paige (Laura Ambler), are some of the more quietly riveting parts of the film. The camera steadies a bit, and the dialogue and action becomes a little more complicated among the teens.

During another wild night of partying, Tara is sexually assaulted. This act noticeably changes her irrevocably, and is handled by Manning Walker and McKenna-Bruce perceptively with fluctuating moods that render Tara’s hurt and inner distress. Her friends, especially Skye, infer what happened was just a fun hookup—praising, exalting, and teasing her about it, even though she looks visibly upset and uncomfortable. Em comes off as more thoughtful and sympathetic, particularly toward the end.

In the aftermath, McKenna-Bruce is particularly captivating. It’s a beguiling performance (and film) because it wouldn’t be as effective without the stark contrast between its two halves. That the film’s title suggests the vastness of a subject within the trite confines of a simple “guide” (I was reminded of the romcom title How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days) feels like one of its most knowing, blistering statements.