Forbidden Fruits Review: A Hilarious Toxic Cult of Feminist Witches

Forbidden Fruits, directed by Meredith Alloway, is a vibrant and audacious debut that blends horror and comedy within the context of a modern-day mall culture. The film, which draws inspiration from Lily Houghton’s play Of the woman came the beginning of sin, and through her we all die, introduces audiences to a coven of young women who navigate the complexities of friendship and rivalry while engaging in witchcraft rituals.

Set in a Texas mall, the story revolves around four employees of the upscale clothing store Free Eden, each named after a fruit: the assertive leader Apple (Lili Reinhart), the bubbly Cherry (Victoria Pedretti), the introspective Fig (Alexandra Shipp), and the newcomer Pumpkin (Lola Tung). Their camaraderie is built on performative rituals, including confessions to the ghost of Marilyn Monroe and casting hexes on perceived threats to their sisterhood. The film cleverly critiques the superficiality of their relationships and the toxic dynamics that can arise within tight-knit female groups.

The characters

The performances are a standout aspect of Forbidden Fruits. Reinhart embodies the role of Apple with a fierce intensity, portraying a character who oscillates between empowerment and manipulation. Pedretti brings a delightful charm to Cherry, while Shipp’s Fig adds depth with her romantic aspirations. Tung, as Pumpkin, serves as the audience's entry point into this bizarre world, showcasing a transformation that is both humorous and unsettling.

The film's dialogue is sharp and filled with cultural references, reminiscent of classics like Mean Girls and The Craft. Critics have noted the film's ability to balance humor with darker themes, although some feel it occasionally shies away from fully exploring its more sinister elements.

Style

Visually, Forbidden Fruits is a feast for the eyes, with vibrant costumes and a playful aesthetic that captures the essence of mall culture. However, some reviews have pointed out that the cinematography lacks vitality, which detracts from the overall impact of the film. Despite this, the film's campy tone and stylistic choices contribute to its charm, making it a unique entry in the genre of horror-comedy.

Thematically, Forbidden Fruits tackles issues of female friendship, empowerment, and the superficiality of consumer culture. The story manifests humor and engaging performances, but it does not fully commit to its darker satire, leading to a somewhat diluted narrative. The final act is thrilling and abrupt, leaving some viewers wanting more depth in the resolution of character arcs.

Forbidden Fruits is a bold and entertaining film that offers a fresh take on the horror-comedy genre. While it may not fully realize its potential, it succeeds in delivering a fun and campy experience that resonates with contemporary audiences. The film is set to become a cult classic, appealing to those who appreciate a mix of humor, horror, and social commentary.

A critique of consumer culture

The film is set in the Highland Place Mall, a microcosm of consumer culture where the characters work at Free Eden, a high-end women's clothing store. This backdrop is not just a setting but a character in itself, representing the excesses and absurdities of modern consumerism. The characters, known as "The Fruits," embody the archetypes of mall culture, with their names and personas reflecting a commodified identity that is both playful and critical of the superficiality inherent in such environments.

The coven's rituals, which include prayer circles and hexes, are steeped in irony as they mimic the performative nature of consumer culture. The characters engage in a brand of "witchcraft" that is less about genuine empowerment and more about maintaining a toxic hierarchy among themselves. Apple, the leader, promotes a facade of female empowerment while simultaneously enforcing a matriarchal dictatorship that thrives on gossip and manipulation. This duality highlights how consumer culture can foster competition and insecurity among women, turning friendships into battlegrounds for social status and acceptance.

Conclusion

Alloway's screenplay is rich with satirical dialogue that pokes fun at millennial and Gen Z culture, particularly the marketing tactics that target young women. The characters' obsession with fashion and trends reflects a broader commentary on how consumerism shapes identity. The film critiques the way these young women adopt and discard identities as easily as they change outfits, suggesting that their self-worth is tied to their consumption habits and the brands they represent.