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Wild Child is the pornographic remake of my indulgent fantasy, ripping my nut sack. The coherency of a trailer, let alone a film, let alone a budget of the studio that produced it sounds unreal. Characters of the movie do such stupid things, they render the possibility that an animation like this could be realistic, even at a movie level, to the same level as fairytales. There’s no tale. There’s no progression of anything. The lines are so badly written, do poorly constructed scenes to.
Review: This film is shocking in its poor plot construction and offers no redeeming qualities when it comes to character development. Wild Child sets out to show a girl’s transition from an uptight “bitch” to a warm hearted friend, but surely fails to do so and for the entirety of the run time, and the dialogues are horrendous right down to the absurd concepts and character arcs. The chaos makes Wild Child look appealing to a cavity search.
On the one hand, I wish I could appreciate this film more; however, in all my years, I do not think I have loathed a film more than this. Wild Child is an absolute *lacking* in all areas of filmmaking skill. The movie epitomizes a teenage based modern comedy spectacle, or in more unfavorable terms, an update to Clueless, a motion picture that elevated airheaded women and their basic fashions to a whole new level in Hollywood. The plot of Wild Child is so simple, it can literally fit on the back of a postage stamp. The movie features characters devoid of an actual personality and gives the impression of watching mannequins come to life. I cannot stress the fact that this is one of the most unappealing films ever created. It boggles my mind that I wasted 90 minutes of my life.
Life for Poppy Moore, a spoiled and rebellious teenager from Malibu, is made worse when her father decides to send her to a posh English boarding school for girls after she single handedly destroys her life due to her behavior. Upon arriving at the school with no access to luxuries like mobile phones and computers, Poppy tries to get herself expelled by seducing the headmasters handsome son. As she is doing this, she makes enemies with her school’s head girl, a pompous and arrogant girl. Along with her sleepover “besties,” “Poppy learns what real friendship is and shapes her identity as a young woman.
To say Wild Child is horrible is an understatement. This is one of the worst films ever made, and it raises the question of how a reputable studio could release a dumpster fire like this. This film offers absolutely no chance of a plausible plot or reasonable characters, and every scene is illogical. The lack of imagination in Wild Child goes as far as its characters. And with such painfully written dialogue, it just makes you want to sit down, kick your feet up, and crack open a thesaurus to properly cope with how atrociously constructed this ‘film’ is.
This movie starts off with Poppy Moore (Emma Roberts) vandalizing her father’s girlfriend’s property, which we never get to see, and then having to face the consequences of her father’s anger that ensues once he comes home and sees the state his house is in. Barely five minutes are over, and boom development is thrown at you. The film did not even bother trying to show us Poppy’s relationship with her father. All we have is the awful script to explain the situation. Why does Poppy appear to be a complete class cow? The answer is that we do not answer (or care for what we provided, which is why we don’t), until we reach what seems like a drastically more emotional section of the movie towards the end, which at this point it is just way too late. Having her come off seemingly as a stupid American is all that is needed to be hated and branded by her UK school peers and people she tried to be close with. This is not Roberts’ fault. The fault lies within the dreadful scripting and character narrative that was poorly crafted.
One of Poppy’s major competitors for the headmaster’s son is upstart school prefect Harriet Bentley. She acts like a strange impersonation of a person as she pouts and scowls throughout the film. Harriet is one of the most exaggerated, ridiculous, and terrible acted characters ever crafted for a feature film, and Georgine King’s portrayal is one of the most poorly done things I’ve seen in a long while. Poor Natasha Richardson, who plays the headmistress of the school, is not given much to do here other than look as if she is both maternal and stern; the dialogue she has to deliver is about as creative as Tupperware. Alex Pettyfer, as resident bit of rough Freddie, manages to get some girls and keep them as his ‘fans’ but his part, which is so deeply cast, is utter rubbish and nonsense. Probably the best performance comes from Aiden Quinn, as Poppy’s father, which I found astonishing considering how brief his appearance is; he is on screen for about five minutes.
The core flaw with Wild Child, out of the many flaws I could enumerate, is that the story is not developed very well. The movie suffers from a mentality of ‘copy and paste’ where developments in the plot and ideas (and even characters) are ripped off word for word from better performing movies. Poppy’s back story, the most crucial element that should have made us sympathize or empathize with her, has, it appears, been completely omitted from the film. The characters should drive the story, but they do not. Their acts are merely a means to let the story (if we can call it that) progress while putting in little effort on our behalf. The characters are wooden, cliched, and generic, replacing actual creativity with the Not Another Teen Movie style mold for the unimaginative. The plot of the “bad girl turns good” is simply horrid and is meant to serve as a lesson for teenage girls who make up the bulk of the target audience. But such initial thought still lacks tangible energy which in turn gives birth to a bare minimum storyline intertwined around an series of intellectually vapid set pieces. It’s as if they wrote the script using a fill in the blanks word template on script writing.
I may not be the audience this film is targeting, but that does not really matter. Even this film, which has blatant attempts to appeal to the preteen audience, should be at least enjoyable as a form of entertainment. But guess what it isn’t. Moreover, there is only so much I can do to stop young girls from marketing this cesspool of a film as ‘the best movie of all time,’ but if you are looking for something that does not revolve around a fashionista’s self absorbed challenges, then I suggest you turn right past this turkey. Wild Child is as dull as last week’s road kill and to call it a poor man’s movie of the week is to assign it far too much credit, for it is poorly conceived and executed in such a way that is beyond garish.
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