“Spring Breakers” is not a camp classic. It hasn’t billed itself as such, but a quick glance at the credits will convince anyone that it is. The film stars two Disney Channel mainstays, one “Pretty Little Liars” alumna, a dreadlocked James Franco, and the perpetually incarcerated rapper Gucci Mane. Its soundtrack features Ellie Goulding, Waka Flocka Flame, and Skrillex (who composed original music for the film). Its director, Harmony Korine, is known for such semi-classics as “Trash Humpers.” But still, “Spring Breakers” is not a camp classic; it’s not a masterpiece either, but it’s far closer to the latter. Korine’s sharp eye and focused direction has transformed the admittedly kitschy material into a dark, affecting, and thoroughly enjoyable piece of filmmaking, bolstered by strong performances from unlikely sources.

The plot is slight: three girls (Vanessa Hudgens, Ashley Benson, and Rachel Korine) hold up a fast-food restaurant to pay for their spring break. Joined by the more straight-laced Faith (Selena Gomez), the four make their way down to St. Petersburg, Florida, where a drug raid lands the four of them in jail. All is not lost, however: the enigmatic rapper Alien (James Franco) bails them out, drawing them into his bizarre and threatening circle. Though the film offers little in the way of complex plot twists, the setup does provide a variety of places where Korine can show off his visual acumen. And though “Spring Breakers” evinces a decidedly less schizophrenic approach to film stock than his earlier work—his 1997 debut “Gummo” featured footage shot on VHS, Polaroid, and 35mm, 16mm, and 8mm film—Korine has lost none of his power to create haunting and beguiling images. Indeed, his choice to restrict the hazy video effects to a number of drug-addled scenes only proves how sharp his eye truly is. “Spring Breakers” is filled with images that feel instantly iconic, such as a simple and stunning shot of a bloodstained finger plinking at a single piano key.

What’s more, the images Korine creates are also exceptionally communicative. The stifling atmosphere of college life is established with just one shot: a lecture hall full of students poised in front of their glowing laptop screens, which change simultaneously as the professor drones on. The film’s uneasy marriage of nihilism and kitsch is summed up with a shot of a candy-pink pier stretching into a seemingly infinite darkness. Most striking, of course, is the opening montage of spring break debauchery. Set to Skrillex’s “Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites,” the sun-drenched antics quickly become discomfiting. By the time the viewer watches beer violently collide with a pair of undulating breasts, Korine has successfully introduced brutality to the “Girls Gone Wild” ethos—or perhaps he’s just exposed it. Crucially, “Spring Breakers” neither glamorizes nor moralizes. Instead, it simply refuses to hide the fact that violence, often of a sexual nature, hovers over every frame of this film. Eventually, each character must accept that fact and what it might imply, and the reactions of the four heroines form the grim heart of the film.

The performances are, on the whole, entirely convincing and powerful. Again, the credit for this must go to Korine; he’s clearly aware of his actors’ respective strengths, and the film’s elliptical style means he can deploy them so we only see the actors at their best.

Gucci Mane, for instance, is required to be little more than an avatar of destruction, but his deadened stare and mush-mouthed drawl allow him to pull it off well. Franco impresses the most, however; at various times, Alien is required to be charismatic, tender, vengeful, and hyperactive, and Franco delivers on all counts.

In the end, of course, this is Korine’s show—it is he who took these admittedly kitschy elements and sculpted a film filled with dread and fear, a film that dares you to forget that Gucci Mane tried to change his name to Guwop or that Vanessa Hudgens dated Zac Efron. Somehow Korine knew that Vanessa Hudgens was capable of erupting with shocking violence, that there was a darkness in Skrillex’s whizzing synths, and that James Franco is the only American actor talented and brave enough to play a character as challenging and mystifying as Alien. These flashes of insight are in themselves a coup, but what they enable is even more impressive: they have allowed “Spring Breakers” to become one of the most powerful films of the year.

—Staff writer Petey E. Menz can be reached at menz@college.harvard.edu.