film review

I arrived expecting witchy sisterhood and midnight margaritas; I received a plot suspended in permanent indecision between romantic comedy and inherited trauma. At the forty-minute mark I abdicated in favour of a YouTube compilation of the aunts, which remains the sole defensible portion of the enterprise.
What one feels toward the film itself is often mere velleity; the true appetite is for its atmosphere, worn like perfume. Abandon such things without penance. It is rehearsal, in miniature, for the larger renunciations.
this is one entry from a wandering list of films, books, shows and albums, kept by someone trying to live a slightly more deliberate life.
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