★☆☆☆☆ (but written with the energy of half a star)
F Marry Kill could’ve been so fun, but damn… what a hot, hot mess.
There are movies that fail because they never had a chance. And then there are movies like F Marry Kill — films that arrive with a perfectly good premise, a charismatic lead, and a roster of hot men, and still somehow trip over their own shoelaces before the opening credits finish.
Let me be clear: the men are hot. Hot in a way that should’ve guaranteed at least a moderately entertaining time. Hot in a way that should’ve carried me through any pacing problems, tonal confusion or questionable wig choices. But the film treats its own assets with the same confused energy it applies to everything else: it has no idea what to do with them.
Which is wild, because this genuinely could have been a fun little cult classic. Lucy Hale is putting in work. Capital-W Work. She plays this role like she’s been handed a delicious neo-noir thriller instead of a script that feels like it was patched together in a rideshare on the way to set. She commits to every micro-expression, every flirty line, every messy emotional beat. She’s trying to elevate the material. She’s trying to anchor a film that refuses to anchor itself.
And she deserves better.
Not because she’s incapable of making trash fun — she’s actually brilliant at it — but because this movie keeps sabotaging itself. It’s allergic to the campy, chaotic version it could’ve been. Every time it edges toward fun, it yanks the wheel toward some Serious Thriller Mood it hasn’t earned.
The tone is all over the place. One scene plays like a flirty romcom murder-mystery. The next is giving ABC Family (or whatever they're calling it these days) energy. Then, out of nowhere, the film pretends it has Something Big to Say about modern relationships, only to drop the idea thirty seconds later like a toddler bored with a toy.
And the editing… listen. There are cuts so abrupt they feel like cold water splashed on your face. Emotional beats vanish mid-step. Scenes rearrange themselves like a deck of cards shuffled by someone who’s only half-watched a movie before.
The film’s internal logic is so inconsistent it becomes its own viewing challenge. You’re not watching the plot unfold; you’re watching the plot sprint, stumble, backflip, and occasionally wander into a bush for reasons unknown.
And then there’s the podcast. Truly. Genuinely. The worst podcast-within-a-movie ever created. It sounds like it was recorded in a shipping container with the microphone pointed at the wrong person. Every time it appeared, I felt deeply embarrassed on its behalf. If the film had leaned into the absurdity, it could’ve been iconic. Instead, it feels like an accidental jump scare.
But here’s the thing: I’m not mad at it. Honestly, I’m not. Because F Marry Kill isn’t a bad movie so much as it’s a confused one. A nice, enthusiastic, eager-to-please little mess that never figures out its own identity.
The ending really seals the fate of this movie, and not in a good way. It fizzles out. It’s lame in that soft, disappointing way that suggests the writers ran out of time and quietly hoped the audience wouldn’t notice. And the creepy best friend going full psycho? It feels less like a twist and more like a character slipping on a banana peel labelled “villain.”
Lucy Hale does her absolute best to drag the film across the finish line, but the script just shrugs at her. The men remain hot but narratively useless. The podcast continues to be an act of violence. And the final reveal collapses under its own nonsense so quickly it’s almost impressive.
In the end, it’s a situationship of a movie: pretty, messy, confusing, and you walk away thinking, I could have spent this time on literally anything else. I originally put on Plain Clothes but decided I wasn’t in the mood for a serious movie. I should have ignored myself.
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If you also feel spiritually harmed by the wasted potential of this film, here is a carefully curated, emotionally stabilising list of films that actually deliver the tone, charm and chaos F Marry Kill only gestured at. Consider this your cinematic first aid kit and a top 5 that will fix your mood after that ending.
(There are five. Plus a bonus. Numbers are a social construct.)
1. Promising Young Woman
Sharp, stylish and intentional in every frame. Carey Mulligan holds the genre by the throat and does not let go. Furious, darkly funny and laser-focused in a way our movie could only dream of.
2. A Simple Favour
The bisexual noir fantasy that healed a generation. Blake Lively’s suits could unionise. Anna Kendrick is perfectly chaotic. It’s camp, sleek and mischievous—the blueprint for the hot-femme thriller.
And yes: I have been firmly told not to watch the sequel. I’m listening.
3. Fresh
Hot people making catastrophic dating choices with purpose. Daisy Edgar-Jones and Sebastian Stan have deranged chemistry. Stylish, witty, unsettling. This is how you do modern chaos with control.
4. Under the Silver Lake
A sexy, surreal LA fever dream. Andrew Garfield spiralling through conspiracies like it’s cardio. Weird, conspiratorial, neon noir. Commits harder than anyone in F Marry Kill committed to a single genre.
5. Ingrid Goes West
A social-media thriller that is actually sharp. Aubrey Plaza goes feral in the best way. Wild, cringe and weirdly tender. The satire lands where our film’s dialogue evaporated.
Bonus Because I Make the Rules: Do Revenge
Pastel-coated teen chaos with bite. Maya Hawke and Camila Mendes deliver perfect camp mayhem. Loud, colourful, confidently ridiculous. The energy we deserved. Plus Sarah Michelle Gellar.
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If none of these fix your mood, that’s okay. Sometimes a bad movie leaves spiritual debris that only time, wine and a borderline-inappropriate rewatch of Jennifer’s Body can clear. Be gentle with yourself. And don’t let hot men trick you into thinking a film has structure ever again.
