The other theme is burgeoning breasts, the outward sign of sexual awakening for the teenage girl played with such natural ease by Natasha Lyonne. She stares in mute horror at her chest in the mirror, uncertain and uncomfortable with the drastic physical changes her suddenly big breasts represent, embarrassed that dad, Alan Arkin, has to escort her into the brassiere department and explain her needs to the clerk. There is no mom in Lyonne's family, and no home either. They are motorized bedouins, Jewish refugees from unnamed troubles back east, sojourners in the promised land of California. Lyonne and her two brothers never know when Arkin will wake them in the night to pack, leaving bills behind, for another crummy motel on the seedy outskirts of Beverly Hills, land of swimming pools and movie stars.
Furniture is temporary.
Arkin's great goal is to keep the kids in the Beverly Hills school system, several cuts above the public education offered in neighboring districts. He may go to his grave a loser in the eyes of American society, but he means for his children to have the opportunities he missed. Although Lyonne is clearly the star as she learns the ropes of womanhood, sexuality and adult responsibility, Arkin shares the spotlight. His word is law in his gypsy-like household, but his law is love. Slums of Beverly Hills is set in 1976, but the magenta shag carpets, bad pop music and electric plaid blazers are only incidental to the movie.