Lucky

FUCK. THIS. MOVIE. Fuck the drawn-out melodrama and lethargic pacing that makes this movie feel twice as long as its abbreviated sub-80 minute runtime. Fuck the way it seems to throw you right into the middle of a situation, but doesn’t explain how some characters know what’s going on already and some don’t, and expects you to catch up, but never provides all the answers. Fuck the way this movie pivots on this couple’s rocky marriage, but abandons it for 2/3’s of the runtime. Fuck how this movie wants to play it like there’s a supernatural element and a mystery, but never wants to commit to solving the latter, making the former feel like a crutch. Fuck how this movie shoehorns in the most ham-handed social commentary this side of the Black Christmas 2019 remake. There is literally a scene with two women in a parking garage, one is begging for help, and the other (the lead) yells how women have to fend for themselves everyday from attacks in their homes, in the streets, in their cars, everywhere. THE MOVIE LITERALLY YELLS THIS. It’s as subtle as a sledgehammer, as insightful as a fortune cookie, and feels like a Jezebel article gained sentience and wrote a movie. There’s a way to make movies with a strong feminist message. Lazy stereotyping, “yes all men” messaging, and yelling it in the most obvious terms because you assume your female audience are too stupid to get subtlety is not it. Fuck how this movie plays with “it was all a dream” and “maybe she’s crazy and these are hallucinations” plot twists. NEVER DO THIS. YOU ARE BAD FOR EVEN THINKING IT. Fuck this movie’s nonsensical ending that resolves absolutely nothing, and just leads to more questions. Fuck everything about this movie. The uninspired, hackneyed writing that’s designed to generate “if you don’t like it, then …” straw man arguments. The simple, first-year film student direction; oh, the character is feeling disoriented and confused, let’s symbolize that with a Dutch angle! The way the movie sets up this cardinal rule of “the regenerating attacker only comes at night”, and then halfway through, decided to break that rule because its written itself into a corner and needs more tension. And what does the main character being a self-help author contribute to the story at all? Nothing. Not a damned thing. It doesn’t provide narrative purpose, or clever juxtaposition, or hidden insight. It’s there to be a character trait, because the main character is drawn so thin. But most of all, fuck this movie for having an interesting premise — a killer that keeps regenerating every day, but the day advances, a twist on the Groundhog Day formula — and anchors it with all this bullshit. It’s a strong, savvy idea, and this movie runs it through a wood chipper.