FINAL GIRL is all style, little substance. It’s not quite horror (Thanks Netflix, for your terrible sorting of films), more thriller meets Film Noir, with its shadows and lighting and glamour, with a streak of Drama mixed in for good measure.
It’s watchable, even enjoyable, but by the time the film shifts into its third act, I started to feel like there was no weight to what we were seeing.
It’s all a bit too vague on the characters, who needed to be fleshed out so something mattered. Instead, FINAL GIRLS feels like a lucid nightmare, walking the line between sensual fantasy with subtext to some lost-in-the-backwoods horror you can’t escape. That’s all fine, but again - with some added story, some meat on the bones of the characters, this could be stronger.
That being said, I could watch the hell out of a franchise of Abigail Breslin running around all badass killing people. Dirty Harry style!