Christopher Landon (2017)
A poisonous sorority has inundated Bayford University with bitter rivals. A calorie cutting agenda cuts the crop of wishful debutantes, while 3 a.m. pledge inductions bloat testosterone and deplete respect. A mire of social cannibalism, the school common reeks of misappropriated ambitions.
Tree, a sisterhood loyal, wakes in a pseudo-nerd's dorm room from a painfully obvious and contradicting ring tone. The three letter word illuminating from her screen elicits audible disdain. The seeds of selfishness are planted as she bosses around the servant boy who never deserved to care for her.
Karma should never be laughed at, but here it is a tone-deaf joke. Tree has ample opportunities to correct her putrid elitism, but even death needs a few semesters' worth of lectures to make a dent in her obnoxious personality. With protagonist that even the most condescending individual would despise, the narrative throws all stakes in a fiery garbage bin where its victimizing one liners should have rested.
When a film's universe is intrinsically tethered to time, it becomes inexcusable to disregard time frames entirely. The viewer becomes punished when they dive into the intricacies of the events that the film subjugates upon the audience repeatedly. No matter how long Tree stalls in waking moments, or how swiftly she jets out of the stranger's door, a timer starts when it is most convenient for the pitiful visual gags to wear themselves out.
A heavy handed score mixed with the most "paper due at midnight" twist push this narrative into new depths of apathetic storytelling. Avoid this film if you have a weak neck, because you are bound to shake your head every two minutes. No laughs are intentional, and this meme nursery only succeeds in being needlessly offensive.
A poisonous sorority has inundated Bayford University with bitter rivals. A calorie cutting agenda cuts the crop of wishful debutantes, while 3 a.m. pledge inductions bloat testosterone and deplete respect. A mire of social cannibalism, the school common reeks of misappropriated ambitions.
Tree, a sisterhood loyal, wakes in a pseudo-nerd's dorm room from a painfully obvious and contradicting ring tone. The three letter word illuminating from her screen elicits audible disdain. The seeds of selfishness are planted as she bosses around the servant boy who never deserved to care for her.
Karma should never be laughed at, but here it is a tone-deaf joke. Tree has ample opportunities to correct her putrid elitism, but even death needs a few semesters' worth of lectures to make a dent in her obnoxious personality. With protagonist that even the most condescending individual would despise, the narrative throws all stakes in a fiery garbage bin where its victimizing one liners should have rested.
When a film's universe is intrinsically tethered to time, it becomes inexcusable to disregard time frames entirely. The viewer becomes punished when they dive into the intricacies of the events that the film subjugates upon the audience repeatedly. No matter how long Tree stalls in waking moments, or how swiftly she jets out of the stranger's door, a timer starts when it is most convenient for the pitiful visual gags to wear themselves out.
A heavy handed score mixed with the most "paper due at midnight" twist push this narrative into new depths of apathetic storytelling. Avoid this film if you have a weak neck, because you are bound to shake your head every two minutes. No laughs are intentional, and this meme nursery only succeeds in being needlessly offensive.
final words:
NARCISSISM IS A DEATH WARRANT