★★★½
“Girls just wanna have fun…”
I don’t often get political here. Really, I watch movies to escape from that kind of thing. But in this case, since the movie itself is basically a cinematic manifesto, I’m going to wade a little bit out into the cesspool of contemporary politics. You have been warned. :)
There’s something called “The paradox of tolerance” which I’ve been hearing about a lot over the past couple of years. This says that if a society is tolerant without limit, its ability to be tolerant will eventually be destroyed by the intolerant. This is frequently used by the left, for example, to justify punching Nazis (or those they say are Nazis): if you don’t stand up to the intolerant, it will destroy you. However, there’s a reason it’s called a paradox – because it makes no logical sense. To me, it is hypocrisy in action, demanding tolerance for the people you say deserve it, while refusing it to those you consider unworthy.
That’s what you have here. One cast member called it, “A war on toxic masculinity, at all costs.” The moral problem is, the cost shown here is little if any better: toxic feminism, if you like. The heroines are four teenage girls: Lily (Young), Sarah (Waterhouse), Bex (Nef) and Em (Abra), living in the town of Salem. Someone starts leaking the private data of citizens, beginning with the homophobic Mayor, who turns out to be thoroughly gay himself. He ends up committing suicide at a press conference, Budd Dwyer-style. That’s just the first case: half the townspeople are similarly exposed, and when the evidence points at Lily as the culprit, the witch-hunt goes into top gear, in a style more reminiscent of The Purge. If the girls are going to survive the night, they’ll need to fight fire with (gun)fire.
There are moments where the style overwhelms the substance. Sometimes, this isn’t a bad thing. A single take of a home invasion, shot from outside the house, and swooping around, up and down, is quite amazing and incredibly effective – it reminded me of Dario Argento at his best. On the other hand, a party where Levinson uses split-screen implodes into incoherent confusion. Truth be told, most of the scenes with the girls interacting with each other or their contemporaries, are a bit of a mess. This is far more on point when it offers a scathing critique of social media, and there are moments when it is refreshingly incorrect. For example, the introduction features a litany of “trigger warnings”, for everything from transphobia to the male gaze.
Of course, it isn’t as smart as it thinks it is, being a one-sided argument, apparently largely formed in a bubble of Occupy Democrat Facebook posts and /r/politics. I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes at things such as it taking place in Salem – ‘cos witch-hunts, y’get it? – and that’s often the level of subtlety you get here. Still, this complete lack of nuance can only be admired, especially when it results in heroines who watch Delinquent Girl Boss: Worthless to Confess for fashion inspiration, as shown above. Politically, it may be highly problematic – though it had its moments, such as a trans character who is not used as a banner of the film-maker’s progressive attitudes. And it’s not so overbearing that I couldn’t appreciate its merits. Even from the point of view of my impeccably “male gaze”, it remained entertaining trash, though if you take any of it seriously, you’re probably making a huge mistake.
Dir: Sam Levinson
Star: Odessa Young, Suki Waterhouse, Hari Nef, Abra