Think Bratz, only more patronizing and twee.
I didn’t know it was possible, but IT IS.
How weird is it that a show that’s entirely based on celebrating and glamorizing the obnoxious fetes of a group of spoiled-rotten teenagers is turned into a movie that’s about using your Super Sweet 16 for philanthropy and not excess? ‘Mind-boggling’ is the term that springs up in my head. Other than that, please see Bratz. The same syrupy teenage stereotypes are used here.
I puzzled my puzzler, to borrow a term from Dr. Seuss, for days on how to write this. Honest to goodness, there’s no good way to review it. Once I stopped having a stream of mental vomit that probably looked like the Lisa Frank store had set up shop in my bile ducts, I was left at a loss for words. I don’t know that a more useless, obnoxious piece of worthless waffling has been put to plastic in quite a while. Can’t we give children credit to think that they might want for more than this?
You also have to question the appeal of making this movie into an after-school special, given the fact that all the show did was give bratty teens a platform to share with the world their fits about not getting to ride into their party on the RIGHT ELEPHANT. These are kids with too tight grips on Mommy and Daddy’s credit card, kids who clearly missed the lesson Roald Dahl tried to teach with Veruca Salt in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. The folks who are undoubtedly turning on My Sweet 16: The Movie are not looking for a message of “showing off isn’t everything”; they want to see if some kid can book Jay-Z and ride in to the amphitheater on a caravan of gold-leafed camels outfitted with saddles hand sewn with blue diamonds, all while the kid slices up a ninety tier cake. At least that’s what I’m thinking, given the couple of episodes of My Sweet 16 that I’ve endured.
Is it the worst I’ve seen? Oh, hell no. Is it the worst of the kids movies that I’ve seen? Oh, yes.