How fortunate that I should be out of town while freaking You, Me, and Tuscany is the big cinematic release of the weekend. There’s not much out right now that works for me.

But what’s this? There’s a screen where Forbidden Fruits is still showing? Great, I’ll be glad to give that one a shot! I would’ve been so disappointed to miss it.

Forbidden Fruits comes to us from producer Diablo Cody, which speaks volumes right off the bat. The film was adapted from a 2019 stage play written by Lily Houghton, who co-wrote the screenplay alongside director Meredith Alloway. And they’re both making their feature debuts, which goes a long way toward explaining what the hell happened here.

We lay our scene in a shopping mall, somewhere in Texas. (Dallas, I think.) Most of the plot unfolds in Free Eden, a fashion boutique that’s technically part of a corporate chain, and this particular store is technically managed by Sharon (played by a cameo actor whom we never directly meet until the mid-credits stinger). In practice, Free Eden is run by the Fruits, who are quickly and firmly established as the Hot Girl clique of the mall.

Apple (Lili Reinhart, in a starmaking turn) is the charismatic Queen Bee. Fig (Alexandra Shipp) is the intellectual who secretly holds ambitions and aspirations beyond Free Eden. Cherry (Victoria Pedretti) is the vapid ditzy stereotypical blonde with a desperate need for attention and validation. And I’d be remiss not to mention Pickle (Emma Chamberlain), who was recently expelled from the group for unclear reasons that nobody will discuss.

The plot kicks off with the introduction of Pumpkin (Lola Tung), who gradually charms her way into Free Eden as the newest Fruit. It’s all downhill from there.

Right up front, the film has two things going for it. First, Pumpkin is more than just an audience surrogate. She’s got her own secrets, her own agenda, and her own reasons for learning how to befriend the Fruits so she can turn them against each other. It’s genuinely interesting to watch Pumpkin act out her subterfuge and sabotage, with clever setups and intriguing payoffs.

It’s the second major hook where we run into problems.

This is where we get into Paradise, the coven that Apple established in the backroom of the Free Eden. What we’ve got here is a peculiar blend of pagan iconography and radical feminist attitude, by way of modern-day pop culture and consumerism. For instance, a central part of their worship is to enter a changing booth and confess their sins to their avatar of the sacred feminine: Marilyn Monroe.

So, what we’ve got here is a convoluted system of faith, in which the primal and the commercial are so inextricably linked that it’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. Which makes it all the more intriguing when our characters suffer their crises of faith — are they losing faith in their gods, or their pop culture? And is there any meaningful difference between the two?

I need hardly add that the Fruits aren’t just friends and fellow worshippers, but also coworkers and employees. Getting kicked out of this cult means losing their job. Which adds a whole ‘nother level of fucked-up to this particular blend of religion and commerce.

All the elements are here for a biting work of satirical dark comedy. Trouble is, they fumble the landing.

See, a central pillar of this belief structure is hatred toward the patriarchy. All well and good. Unfortunately, as the plot unfolds, it becomes increasingly clear that Apple doesn’t really hate the patriarchy or men in general, she simply hates literally everyone. Potentially even herself. This brings us to the inevitable conclusion that this whole “coven” was nothing more than Apple building up her own cult of personality so she can belittle her coworkers and make herself feel tall.

All these potentially fascinating questions, all the potential for greater satire, all thrown out the window and explained with the catch-all answer “Because Apple is freaking crazy.” Sure, the descent into insanity is beautifully performed, but it’s still the most boring and predictable answer. Great for tying up the plot within a quick 100 minutes, but not so great for delivering the kind of scathing feminist anti-capitalist insight that the film was otherwise built for.

And while I’m of course extremely limited in how much I can spoil about the ending, it’s a mess. It makes no lick of sense, offers no degree of closure, and raises far more questions than answers. What a waste.

Forbidden Fruits has all the hallmarks of a movie made by highly ambitious and technically talented newcomers who don’t yet have the experience or insight to craft a cinematic narrative. All the necessary pieces are here: neat concept, stellar actors, wonderful production design, and some kills that make deft and judicious use of camerawork and editing to keep the carnage effective despite a lack of budget. Unfortunately, while the setups are all intriguing, the payoffs are consistently limp. Yes, the Pumpkin arc is solid from start to finish, but that’s not enough when the underwhelming Apple arc dominates literally everything in the movie.

It’s such a grievous disappointment to see the filmmakers bring up so many fascinating questions and topics, only to brush them all aside and focus on the antagonist’s rote corruption arc. My recommendation would be to pass on this one and see what these same filmmakers do for their sophomore effort. I sincerely wish them better luck next time.