Bottoms has cheek to spare
Bottoms is an audacious mocktail of high school chaos and queer romance, shaken vigorously and served with a twist. I mean audacious in the most literal sense. It has audacity. The definite article, in fact. It has the audacity. Directed by Emma Seligman, Bottoms embraces high school realpolitik, where PJ (Rachel Sennott) and Josie (Ayo Edebiri) find themselves so far from the summit of the social peak they’re not even in the foothills of popularity. Their solution? Start an all-girls fight club, of course. Not merely for the thrill of the brawl, but to impress their crushes and carve out a niche in the brutal high school hierarchy.
PJ, with her brash bravado, and Josie, the more reserved counterpart, form a dynamic duo that both captivates and confounds, their chemistry a strong anchor for the audience as the film’s narrative flails around aimlessly. Yet, PJ’s sharp edges often prick too harshly, rendering her more rebarbative than relatable, while Josie’s warmth offers a soft reprieve but can’t entirely thaw the icy reception their antics sometimes provoke. Nicholas Galitzine’s Jeff, on the other hand, feels too archetypal, a cliched caricature in a movie desperate to prove its edginess and tell its truth.
The humour in Bottoms swings wildly, like a punch-drunk fighter, landing some jabs squarely while others miss their mark entirely. The fight club scenes crackle with kinetic energy, each punch and pratfall a demonstration of the film’s give-no-fucks bravado and at times there’s an undeniable thrill in the ludicrous, reckless abandon that propels the movie forward. But all too often, this wannabe comedy about stuff loses its footing, stumbling over its own erratic tone. One moment we’re treated to a flurry of clever jabs, the next we’re left reeling from slapdash chaos, unsure whether to laugh or wince. At times, it feels tailored for the chronically online teenager, with its rapid-fire non-sequitur structure resembling a TikTok timeline being scrolled through with divided attention.
Empowerment and rebellion permeate the fabric of Bottoms, interwoven with the threads of queer representation and teenage insurrection. There’s a boldness here, for sure, that challenges the status quo with a raised fist and a bloodied, defiant grin but as potent as that pugnacious attitude is these themes get lost in the chaos, overshadowed by the film’s frantic pace and tonal dissonance. The plot, a patchwork of promising ideas, struggles to find a sense coherence, a metatextual commentary of the lives of its lead characters that’s more astute than much of the textual material ultimately manages.
In the storied annals of high school comedies, there’s nothing quite like Bottoms. It’s less polished, more raw, a jagged gem that glitters sporadically. There are things that work – casting, performances, most of the gags, that wild final set piece but none of them seem to work together, torn between a grounded, sardonic look at modern teenage life and a wild heightened reality where the most outré or outrageous actions incur near zero consequences.
Its finale is spectacular, though, a carnival of gleeful anarchy that encapsulates the film’s wild heart, even if it lacked the courage of those convictions for much of its runtime. For all its bold moves and daring swings, Bottoms ends up a bit of a bummer.
