
Carrie review: women who hate women
I’m struck by the perversity of a story four decades old about religious misogyny and basic feminism and the perniciousness of bullying that still feels fresh and relevant…

I’m struck by the perversity of a story four decades old about religious misogyny and basic feminism and the perniciousness of bullying that still feels fresh and relevant…

A devastating indictment of pop culture as propaganda — about its power and the limits of its powers — and an upending of the typical teen-girl romance movie.

This overblown melodrama mistakes sensationalism for story, and is yet another repulsive tale of women’s friendships as toxic.

This gentle father-son(ish) tale about an expert surfer and his teen apprentice is a rare “family” movie that isn’t preachy or insipid.

My soul was never stirred. My spirit did not soar. My intellect did twitch a bit in ways that made my heart ache disagreeably, however.

There’s nothing particularly surprising here. Not even the rather tediously obvious 15-minute all-nude lesbian fuckfest.

Misses more marks than it attempts to hit, but there’s a refreshing sweetness to this child’s-eye view of grief and tragedy.

Thoughtful performances and grim visual elegance aren’t enough to save this portrait of abuse and control twisted into banal evil from becoming too banal to have much bite.

Twists the high-school revenge story into feminist black magic.

Stark and gritty, this may be the most down-to-earth teen romance ever, filled with touches of unpredictable, inescapable reality.