Take a Drink: whenever Tris and Four lock lips. Take Two: if it’s at like literally the worst time to do it ever.
Take a Sip: each time someone says “pure” or “damaged” or “divergent”.
Take a Shot: DEAD MOM MEMORY FLASHBACKS.
Take a Sip: for each holographic CNN update.
Take a Drink: for every unlikely ally or un(okay kind of)expected betrayal.
Shotgun Your Beer: Gratuitous shirtless shower moment with Four.
By: Felix Felicis (Five Beers)-
There are two kinds of people. Those who come out of tragedy stronger and ready to join Crossfit, and those who curl into the fetal position spooning a fifth of tequila never to leave the house again. As the one and only Golden Goddess here at MovieBoozer (not my words but if our editor-in-chief Henry J. Fromage is assigning superhero alter egos it’s better that Relationship Avoidance Girl) who has single-handedly taken every bullet in the Divergent, Insurgent, and Allegiant franchise of films, I can tell you that I’m leaning heavily toward hermetically sealing my house in the hopes that the second part of Allegiant due out next year will pass me by. Miracles can happen.
This installment in the Divergent franchise finds Tris and Four not long after the downfall of Jeanine (Kate Winslet) and follows them as they unhappily watch Four’s mother, Evelyn (Naomi Watts) turn into a neophyte dictator and run thinly veiled excuses called “trials” for co-conspirators of the last regime. Because standing up to your mother is like super hard (and the only reason I wear our family sweater with puppies on it at Christmas) Four merely lurks in the background making out with an increasingly surly Tris who just wants to sneak out and meet all the cool peeps on the other side of the wall. Confused? Haven’t read any of the books or seen any of the movies? Stop reading now and high-five yourself.
For the rest of us, keep reading. Once over the wall, we meet David (Jeff Daniels) the leader of the weirdly-obsessed-with-pure-genetics-kid-snatching-psychopaths who put this dystopian hamster tank together in the hopes that the fragmented genetic codes, resulting in the last society-ending war, would work themselves out. Enter Tris. Poster Girl for purity. They do some weird experiments, spy on Chicago as another war brews and then shit hits the fan when Tris discovers a betrayal and they head back home just in time for the finale but not in time to save the last shreds of your dignity from blowing away.
Um. Hold on. I can do this. Oh! Yeah, the future tech that the purity whack jobs had was pretty cool. Like frisbees that could extend your vision with their on-board camera lenses that also functioned as a bullet-proof shields that LET YOUR BULLETS OUT but kept external bullets from getting in. Plus they had bubbles that could capture and transport anyone you choose. That was pretty sweet. Also there was a totally random shower scene a la Thor with Four that had zero purpose except to let you count Theo James’s abs under rivulets of running water. I’m okay with that.
Screenwriters (Bill Collage, Adam Cooper- Exodus: Gods and Kings, Accepted and Noah Oppenheim- The Buried Life) for Allegiant were going to read the book, then they got lost in the wilderness without wifi or toilet paper; it got really dicey on burrito night so they ripped out pages from their reference material and thus the shoddy, incoherent, rambling mess of a final product that made it to the silver screen was born. Allegedly. Probably. I imagine. The plot in this bland shitshow is so random and obscure that it’s impossible to follow character motivations or understand the impetus behind their intent. Basically, in laymen’s terms, bitches be loco (and that’s taking into account the flaws in the original source material). Like, for starters, if you’re trying to heal genetic schisms in society why create a Truman Show-style hamster tank and then DIVIDE THE PEOPLE INTO THOSE SPECIFIC SCHISMS IF YOU WANT THEM TO CROSSBREED AN ULTIMATE GENETIC POKEMON. That makes sense.
Each film thus far in the Divergent franchise has been somewhat light on plot, relying heavily on tried-and-true teen franchise flick fodder- the epic love story and CGI action. From okay, to tolerable, to goddamn torture to sit through, this franchise has successfully scarred me for life due to lack of shits given. Because we don’t even get the tension of a love triangle, or even very much action, to create a sense of drama in this series installment (Tris and Four are basically the equivalent of married with cats and skinny jeans by this point) Allegiant flounders in the shallower waters of standing on the shoulders of an existing narrative to carry the film. Which, much like a housebound vegan, is anemic as fuck.
Actor: what’s my motivation?
Director: um, what movie is this again?
Set PA: *whispers*
Director: oh, right. Um, we don’t actually need you for this scene.
Set PA: *places cardboard cutout on the mark*
Also, let’s talk about the negative space where the chemistry between Shailene Woodley and Theo James (Tris and Four) went to die. In both Divergent and Insurgent, that was at least enough of a factor to keep the eternal tween in us all satisfied with the genre shenanigans we were being spoon fed by the bucketful. Allegiant could have cloned and genetically spliced them with narcoleptic sloths for all they looked jazzed about the idea of making out onscreen forty-seven times (thirty-seven of those pretty much right in the middle of a crisis). AND CAN WE JUST FUCKING QUIT IT WITH THE OUTSTRETCHED HAND-ON-HAND ACTION? KTHNXBYE.
Every time I try and recall the events of those two hours spent in Allegiant, my brain short circuits and re-routes all power to my emergency amnesia failsafe. This wipes all traumatic events from short term memory, preventing cataclysmic system failure. Basically, in trying to remember enough of the film to review it, I broke, I broke my brain. Holy fuckballs, Allegiant was one step above Fifty Shades of terrible and was so bland I can’t recall much of anything other than severe boredom. This flick isn’t only forgettable, it’s a testament to mediocrity. That’s a special kind of bad when you can’t even enjoy mocking it, you just have to hunker down and survive the experience. To anyone dragged to see Allegiant, I’m so sorry. Go with Vodka, my friend… Then bitch-slap the idiot responsible.
Allegiant takes everything you never loved about the franchise and splits it into two movies. Much like a Tinder profile featuring basement machetes and a love of clowns bordering on creepy, swipe left on this one.