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With MaXXXine, the latest in their X trilogy, Ti West and Mia Goth are charting a curious course as horror's most fascinating new duo. 

It was little more than two years ago that the writer/director and actress/producer unleashed the ultra-violent slasher X upon a giddy SXSW audience prior to a successful theatrical release. Then, just four months later, they unveiled the prequel Pearl, which not only unfurled the tormented origin story of the first film's villain, but also offered a tone so wildly different that it left critics and audiences dizzy with deranged delight. Where X was dripping with lurid sex, vicious shame, and a mean sense of humor plumbed from Tobe Hooper's seminal 1974 slasher, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Pearl was a campy ode to winsome Technicolor children's movies like The Wizard of Oz and Mary Poppins, but with a dark undercurrent that reflected the devilish potential behind its titular antiheroine's wide-eyed ambition. 

The two films formed a festered fairy tale, where the princess of one becomes the wicked queen of the other. So what does all this mean for MaXXXine, the sequel that follows X's sole survivor to 1985 Los Angeles? Like its predecessors, it's rooted in a tale of sex and murder. But this time West's influences lean into the film-noir classics set in L.A., like Roman Polanski's iconic 1974 hit, Chinatown. The result is a film that starts off familiar but strong, tapping into the seedy pleasures of peep shows and surreal realities of studio backlots. But something gets lost as West and Goth hurtle toward a climax that feels undeserving of the movie that leads up to it. 

What's MaXXXine about? 

Set six years after X, MaXXXine l finds its titular sex worker, Maxine Minx, a successful porn star hoping to make the leap to legit moviemaking in Hollywood. Convinced the sequel to a popular, gory horror movie called The Puritan is her ticket to the big time, she throws her all into the audition. But getting the part won't be nearly as difficult as surviving the leather-gloved stalker who's been picking off her friends one by one. 

SEE ALSO: Ti West owed us Pearl dancing for farm animals

A Final Girl in full, Maxine is not one to be easily scared. Not by the sneering ego of her director (Elizabeth Debicki), the intimidation tactics of a pair of LAPD detectives (Michelle Monaghan and Bobby Cannavale), or a Southern-twanged private eye (Kevin Bacon), whose white suit, wide-brimmed hat, and busted nose make for the movie's most explicit Chinatown reference. But when these murder investigations threaten her fledgling career, Maxine is determined to face off against the mystery killer, with a dark glare and her mantra: "I will not accept a life I do not deserve." 

Mia Goth is once again great under West's direction.  Credit: A24

The baby-voiced British actress has worked with an array of acclaimed filmmakers, including Lars Von Trier (Nymphomaniac), Gore Verbinski (A Cure for Wellness), and Luca Guadignino (Suspiria). Yet it might well be West who has best showcased the doll-faced actress, giving her much more to play than the tragic while beautiful gamine. 

With X, she pulled double duty, portraying the uninhibited and ambitious Maxine as well as the desperately horny (to the point of homicidal rage) Pearl. With Pearl, she threw herself into a parody of an ingenue tale, giving a performance as jarring and enchanting as it was hysterically vulnerable. With MaXXXine, she locks away the insecurities of Pearl, leaning into Maxine's borderline dangerous delusions of grandeur. Witnessing Maxine swaggering onto a studio lot and trash-talking her competition without breaking stride, her unchecked confidence gives a thrill. But as the film lurches into its final act, Maxine threatens to become more clichéd than compelling. 

MaXXXine is at its best when it's a showbiz satire.  Credit: A24

West and Goth are wickedly clever in how they depict Hollywood here. On one front, the film-within-the-film The Puritan II looks destined to be gory, goofy trash. Yet its director — with a lofty English accent — speaks of it like it will rival The Godfather. In the audition for the role of a possessed 1950s housewife, it's not enough for Maxine to cry on cue. She's also expected to bare her breasts, and she does so matter-of-factly, as if being asked to hand over her headshot. 

Such shrugging absurdity comes to a head in a chase sequence through the actual Universal Studios back lot. Here, Bacon's dick chases Goth's starlet from the Old West sets, through a false Manhattan, and up to the stairs of the Bates Motel. It's a knowingly silly sequence that draws attention to the facades of Hollywood and fame, while also showing how mastering the landscape of such agreed-upon lies can help one survive — and even thrive — in Hollywood. It's a point that West drives home with the film's finale. But getting there is a bloody battle. 

MaXXXine loses the courage of its convictions with a frustratingly unsatisfying climax.  Credit: A24

For much of MaXXXine, I was on the edge of my seat, a big goofy grin on my face. West and Goth were chiseling out a film-noir story of a femme fatale who, having survived one attempt on her life, is determined to let no one get the better of her now that she's closer to her dream than ever before. There's a horrid determination in Maxine, who will not be slowed down by the bodies stacking up on the morgue, her grief, or the slaughterhouse secrets she ran from in Texas. To her, Los Angeles is a place of heat and promise. West paints his setting accordingly, framing Maxine as a goddess, tall and untouchable among the squalid backdrops and the blaring evening news reports of the (real) serial killer known as the Night Stalker. 

While outwardly, Maxine can be stoic in the face of death and condemnation, the movie quivers with the energy of an animal running for its very life. Neon lights, leather pants, spurts of blood, and snorts of cocaine piece together an atmosphere so thick you can practically smell the sweat and hairspray. And Goth's supporting cast — which also boasts enthralling turns from Giancarlo Esposito, Moses Sumney, and Halsey — fleshes out this world with attitude, moxie, sneers, and screams. 

But when it comes time to pull back the curtain and reveal the real villain, screenwriter West makes the least interesting — indeed downright predictable — choice. A big, splashy sequence in the Hollywood Hills has action, graphic violence, and plenty of dramatic pronouncements. But after all the possibilities set up in its noir plot, the clunky conclusion feels out of place with the intoxicating satire that led to it. Instead of following the noir-inspiration points to a justly cold and harrowing end (think Sunset Boulevard), MaXXXine seems to abruptly remember its slasher sequel and thus piles on fresh lore, tiresome monologuing, and the requisite higher body count expected as a franchise expands. 

It's a shame. Vibrant in sleaze, satire, and shocking violence, MaXXXine was on the brink of being the best West and Goth have made yet. But a bungled ending leaves a sour taste. 

MaXXXine is now playing on Max.

UPDATE: Oct. 15, 2024, 2:56 p.m. EDT This review was originally published on June 26, 2024. It has been updated to reflect the latest viewing options.

The harrowing story of Dating Game Killer Rodney Alcala boasts a depressingly long list of victims, a series of infuriating failures of the police, and a conclusion that is grim and far from satisfying. Suffice to say, it's pretty shocking that his crimes are the subject that Pitch Perfect's Anna Kendrick has chosen for her directorial debut, Woman of the Hour.

Pulling double-duty on the film, the comedic actress brings her plucky persona to one of the lead roles, playing the unwitting Dating Game bachelorette who peppers the undiscovered serial killer with bawdy questions — much to the delight of a nationwide audience also oblivious to his horrid homicidal streak. 

The script by Ian MacAllister McDonald presents plenty of on-brand scenes for Kendrick, from a humiliating audition with a pair of comically bored casting directors to a deeply awkward interaction with a sex-pest neighbor, to a chance to dazzle under the studio spotlights of a popular TV game show. But how does Kendrick's brand of humor connect with the grisly tale of the Dating Game Killer? 

It doesn't. 

What's the buzz about Woman of the Hour? 

Kendrick's directorial debut premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival amid a wave of other actor/helmer productions, ranging from Taika Waititi's fumbled sports comedy Next Goal Wins, Michael Keaton's mind-bending thriller Knox Goes Away, Viggo Mortensen's somber Western The Dead Don't Hurt, Patricia Arquette's wobbly drama Gonzo Girl, and Chris Pine's bellyflopped comedy-noir Poolman (just to name a few!) Critics out of the first screenings of Woman of the Hour were spreading the word that Kendrick's true crime adaptation was a must-see and maybe the best of this particular crop of movies. Then again, considering the mixed to negative reviews of the aforementioned films, that's not saying much.

Some have compared Woman of The Hour to Emerald Fennell's Promising Young Woman, a darkly comedic thriller that earned its writer/director an Oscar for Best Original Screenplay. However, the similarities between the two films are superficial: Both deal with rape culture, involving a plotline in which women are sexually assaulted and/or murdered by men within a patriarchal society that aims to give the latter the benefit of the doubt, whatever the cost. (Spoiler: The cost is women's lives.) Both films are directed by women. (Only Promising Young Woman is written by one.) End of list. 

Where Promising Young Woman offered a stylish and provocatively twisted revenge fantasy, Woman of the Hour delivers a wobbly retelling of a true crime story with a thread of showbiz comedy. The former film centers its plotline on an angry avenging angel who lures in her predatory prey with a drunken demeanor or smeared lipstick, visually critiquing the victim-blaming tropes survivors encounter in real life. By contrast, Woman of the Hour doesn't have a central heroine but divides itself among a handful of victims presented as genre tropes: a scrappy teen runaway (Autumn Best), a traumatized witness (Nicolette Robinson), a too-trusting flight attendant, and aspiring actress Cheryl Bradshaw (Kendrick). While the film zips back and forth across Alcala's terrible timeline, Cheryl readies to go on the Dating Game not to look for love but to score her big break. Could her professional ambitions get her killed? Kendrick's film seems to ask.

Woman of the Hour is two movies clumsily stitched together. 

Cheryl's thread follows her throughout her frustrations as a struggling actress in Los Angeles, ducking the spirit-crushing remarks of men in power, dodging unwanted kisses, and battling back against sexist bullies using only her wit and a smile wielded like a shield. In such scenes, Kendrick seems at home. As a performer, she's walked the line of chipper yet biting comedy from Pitch Perfect to Into The Woods and A Simple Favor. And it's wicked fun to watch her face off with a surly Tony Hale as a combative Dating Game host. 

A gruesome cold open shows from the start how Alcala operates. So, while Cheryl deals with annoying but relatively harmless threats from men around her, the audience knows what she does not: Doom looms. The call for The Dating Game gig is not one of opportunity but bad fortune.

Perhaps Kendrick purposely put herself into this familiar role so that audiences could understand how even the quirky heroine of a comedy might be caught up in the trap of such a deceptive serial killer. Through this thread, Kendrick shows how Alcala hid in plain sight. However, this section of the film doesn't convincingly connect to the other women's narratives, in part because those characters are so barely developed that their scenes play like something on Investigation Discovery: a swift setup of sweetness before being savagely killed.  

To the credit of Autumn Best, while her pugnacious runaway is thinly sketched on the page, her screen presence is undeniably mesmerizing. You root for her even as the movie gives you every reason to think hope is pointless. However, the other women depicted in the last hours — or even minutes — of their lives are given even less-caring characterization. All of them fall into the same aesthetic framework of '70s beauty, with long hair, vaguely bohemian babe vibes, and an attitude that is tentatively self-empowered. They are introduced long enough to be shown as lovely, before their smiles are perverted to screams under the glare of Alcala's menace.

Anna Kendrick fumbles in true crime storytelling.

Kendrick has no distinctive voice in depicting violence. In Zodiac, David Fincher stoically depicted detailed scenes of slaughter to display to his audience the cold-blooded nature of the attacks. Though there is little gore and much of the assaults happen off-camera in Woman of the Hour, Kendrick indulges in close-ups of the women screaming, their hands bond tightly, their feet kicking helplessly. Far from distinctive, such scenes play like something out of any random slasher film, with shots of yowling victims being dragged out of frame and to their annihilation. It's a sickening spectacle.

Vexingly, by favoring these cliched setups of introducing sexually attractive and confident young women, only to show them slaughtered for letting a male stranger into their lives, Kendrick's approach reduces these sisters in suffering — some of whom are based on real people, like Cheryl herself — into cautionary tales. Don't hitchhike! Don't let a stranger into your home! Don't follow a creep to a second location!

As true crime media evolves, there's been a push from activists and audiences to focus on the victims or the heroes over glamorizing the killer. To be fair, Kendrick doesn't seem interested in Alcala's motives or background. Actor Daniel Zovatto offers a low-boil portrayal of the smirking serial killer, revealing how a bit of kindness might be a hook. Woman of the Hour doesn't fall prey to treating Alcala as special or especially clever, mostly just bold enough to trust in institutional misogyny to not only ignore all his red flags but also the women who would speak out against him. However, the script cherry-picks his story to package a concise yet grisly thriller with that oh-so-marketable true crime edge. Yet it tells us nothing new — about rape culture, police apathy, or even Alcala and his victims.

SEE ALSO: Untangling true crime: Inside the ethics of Hollywood's greatest guilty pleasure

Worse yet, Woman of the Hour manufactures a fictional climax whole cloth in a sweaty bid for a satisfying ending. With so much of this story being stranger than fiction but still true, audiences may well assume this conclusion is fact. Yet McDonald has dreamed up a fantasy finale that isn't even believable within the world he and Kendrick have built. In a film where police are repeatedly presented as impotent and uncaring, it's outrageous to show them victoriously sweeping in, sirens blazing, to save the day. This creation provides a solace the real story does not, and an ending that feels cheap and even insulting.

Far from the thought-provoking narrative within Promising Young Woman, Woman of the Hour plays to preconceived notions without complication: All men are bad, ranging from rapists and killers to creeps or incompetent cops to disappointing boyfriends and failed allies. Women, on the other hand, are victims, gossips, or witnesses.

"What are girls for?" Cheryl playfully asks her bachelors, who mostly flub their replies. Kendrick's film fares no better answering that query.

Woman of the Hour is streaming on Netflix.

UPDATE: Oct. 14, 2024, 5:01 p.m. EDT "Woman of the Hour" was reviewed out of its world premiere at the 2023 Toronto International Film Festival. This article, originally published on Sept. 22, 2023, has been updated for the film's Netflix debut.

In The Line, there is no place more terrifying than a frat house.

Director Ethan Berger portrays these supposed havens of brotherhood as dens of racism, sexism, and homophobia. Between snorting lines of cocaine off bikini pictures and forcing freshmen to shave their genitals, The Line's fraternity brothers complain that prospective pledges are "too dark" or kick up fights by calling each other gay. It would all seem over-the-top, if it weren't so rooted in reality.

SEE ALSO: 'The Line' trailer pulls you into a nightmare frat

That realism is where the true horror of The Line lies. While the film focuses on the fictional Kappa Nu Alpha fraternity — or "KNA," as its members chant mindlessly throughout — you can easily imagine its hazing rituals appearing in the news. With this in mind, Berger and his committed young cast have crafted a searing deep dive into one of the most disturbing elements of American university culture.

The Line explores the nightmarish depths of fraternities.

The Line makes no attempts to glorify the frat bro lifestyle. There are no wild parties attended by everyone in the school, no crazy sex scenes, no moments where you'd think, "Man, this is how I wish I'd spent my formative college years."

Instead, Berger and cinematographer Stefan Weinberger turn KNA's frat house into a dingy, lonely space. You can almost feel floors sticky underfoot with alcohol and smell the brothers' BO as they brag about all the sex they're having, or how they "set the tone" for Sumpter College and the rest of the world. As the brothers are keen to point out, three of their members went on to become president, while others run major companies (and give other brothers jobs there). Yet despite all this important history, there's no sense of connection with the rest of the campus, aside from a mixer with a sorority whose members we never meet. One pledge's roommate doesn't even bother to talk to him. For all their crotch-grabbing, air-humping bravado, the KNA boys come across as pathetic young men. But they're pathetic young men who think they're on top of the world — and based on their privilege and connections, one day they probably will be.

SEE ALSO: 42 movies you'll want to see this fall

That realization is one of the most menacing aspects of The Line, along with a threatening undercurrent Berger weaves throughout. We first get a sense of this threat in the film's opening, a destabilizing sequence where pledges in camo facepaint celebrate after a heinous round of hazing. (The hazing ritual isn't shown in full, but the implied task is a horrifying one.) Cut to Tom Backster (Alex Wolff), a sophomore KNA brother from Florida. He's spent his summer working in a restaurant instead of interning at a prestigious company like the rest of his more well-connected brothers. However, he lies to his friends about his real summer job, hoping not to risk humiliation at their hands. Another lie is the exaggerated Southern accent he puts on to mimic the rest of KNA, a front his mother (Cheri Oteri) likens to "fake Forrest Gump." (She also thinks he sounds brainwashed.) With these character details, The Line lets us know right from the get-go that there's nothing worse for a KNA brother to do than to break the norm.

But break the norm is exactly what one member of the freshman pledge class does. Gettys O'Brien (Austin Abrams) skips pledge events and shows reluctance to adhere to traditions. He pushes back on the older brothers, especially Tom's roommate, Mitch Miller (Bo Mitchell). Between his actions and the new dean of students' (Austin Purnell) promise to crack down on frats' code of conduct violations, it's not long before tensions within KNA lead to disaster. The major turning point of The Line likely won't come as a shock if you're familiar with all the ways fraternity hazing can go wrong, but that doesn't make it any less nauseating when it happens.

The Line's cast brings the brothers of KNA to all-too realistic life.

The Line is a tense horror show throughout thanks to its realistic quality, a tribute to both its handling of its subject matter and its ensemble cast. Wolff and the rest of the KNA boys are frighteningly believable as frat bros, although Wolff brings an extra layer of vulnerability as a KNA outsider who's worked hard to get into this brotherhood and establish a certain image for himself.

As Gettys, Abrams is a slippery enigma who oscillates between "thinks he's too cool for frat tradition" and "desperately wants to be in a frat." His frustration at KNA's dumb demands doesn't stop him from participating, speaking to the sacrifices people will go through to be part of a seemingly high-status group. Facing off against Gettys is Mitchell's Mitch, whose rich father got him into the frat even though everyone there hates his guts. It's a potent combination that leads to volatile, at times even sadistic, outbursts that Mitchell delivers in chilling fashion.

The Line also features Halle Bailey, fresh off her leading turn in The Little Mermaid, as Annabelle Bascom, a sharp student who catches Tom's eye. Bailey does excellent work with the material that she's given, which is disappointingly thin for the star. There's not much to Annabelle beyond her initial aversion to Tom's frat bro status, making her less of a fully-fledged character and more of a figure for Tom to project his misgivings about KNA onto.

The Line is best when it focuses solely on KNA's inner workings, and for the most part, that's where Berger keeps his focus. Charged conversations between the brothers reveal their gross attitudes and their disdain for consequences. Meanwhile, haunting images such as hooded pledges awaiting hazing will make you crave any kind of consequence that much harder. Staying true to real life, The Line doesn't necessarily give you the outcome you might want based on the KNA brothers' actions. But that just makes it an even more compelling indictment of an antiquated tradition, one that unfortunately remains relevant due to its members' privilege.

The Line opens in theaters in New York Oct. 18 and expands nationwide Oct. 25.

UPDATE: Oct. 14, 2024, 3:44 p.m. EDT "The Line" was reviewed out of its world premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival. This article, originally published on June 19, 2023, had been updated to include the latest viewing options.

Online dating as a lesbian can be a joyous experience, but it can also involve having your space invaded by straight people or seeing your ex-girlfriends (and your ex-girlfriends' ex-girlfriends) show up in your feed over and over.

Back in 2020, the heteronormative weirdness on the apps got so alienating that many lesbians turned to TikTok as a means of meeting other single lesbians (and it worked). Unfortunately, it's just not realistic to expect a social media app to work like a dating app for everyone. Lesbians who have exhausted their local romantic options are still going to want to meet new women in time for cuffing season.

And while it's still all too common to match with a woman just to be hit with the classic, "My boyfriend and I are looking for a threesome," dating apps have been making strides against unicorn hunting. Our favorite apps now give queer women a safe space to meet and date other women and non-binary folks.

A Pew Research Center survey from 2023 found that 61 percent of LGBTQ users have positive experiences with online dating. That's not to say it's always easy, though. The same survey showed that we're more likely to experience unwanted advances and even the occasional scammer. But with a bit of caution and the right app, online dating can be a great way to connect with other queer women.

SEE ALSO: TikTok's algorithms knew I was bi before I did. I'm not the only one.

So, what are the best dating apps for lesbians? We tested the most popular dating sites and apps and got some insight from our Dating & Relationships writers to find out.

How to find the best dating apps for lesbians Niche lesbian dating apps aren't your only option for finding love in 2024. Credit: Stacey Zhu / Mashable

Mainstream dating apps attract the most users — including queer users. That means niche lesbian dating apps aren't your only options for finding love. These days, Hinge, Bumble, OkCupid, and even eharmony all have clear filters to help you match with people of the same gender (or any gender at all), as well as filters that acknowledge the existence of non-traditional relationships. Especially if you don't live in a densely populated area, going for the more popular dating apps over lesbian dating sites can often lead to better results.

With that said, there is one dating app lesbian women should try. HER is an app by and for queer women, and it's grown to have a strong user base. According to their website, the app has more than 15 million registered users worldwide. The app also emphasizes finding community and making friends in addition to dating, giving you plenty of ways to find a connection with other queer women and non-binary users.

SEE ALSO: Are dating apps getting too niche?

Check out our guide below for the full rundown of our recommendations and dating app reviews.