Sarah’s dependence on Kiki, her inability to summon the symbolic labrys, and her persistent anxiety give the film plenty of material for a coming-of-age arc, yet the review argues that these elements never develop convincingly. Its central criticism is not that the characters are queer or that the story embraces LGBTQ themes, but that Sarah remains largely insecure and codependent until an abrupt final change. The brief moment in which she recognizes herself in another miserable breakup victim is singled out as one of the few instances where her growth is actually dramatized rather than simply declared.
That focus on storytelling gives the critique more substance than the internet controversy surrounding the movie might suggest. Kiki is described as relentlessly unpleasant without receiving the self-awareness that could have complicated her role, while Willow emerges as the comparatively sympathetic character only to be discarded by Sarah shortly after helping her. The reviewer makes a persuasive case that a stronger version of the story could have used Willow to contrast supportive relationships with the damaging influences of Kiki and Sarah’s parents. His broader complaint—that characters frequently explain feelings and relationships instead of allowing behavior to establish them—connects several seemingly separate problems into one coherent criticism of the writing.
The discussion of the online backlash is more measured than the deliberately provocative opening implies. Rather than accepting accusations that the filmmakers intended an anti-trans message, the reviewer distinguishes audience interpretation from what he says the creators themselves stated about Blade: that Blade was conceived as a drag queen rather than a trans woman, while another character was intended to be a trans lesbian. That does not independently establish every aspect of the filmmakers’ intentions, but it gives the reviewer a concrete basis for rejecting claims of deliberate hostility while still criticizing the movie for communicating important character information so poorly that viewers could reach substantially different conclusions.
Animation receives a similarly qualified assessment. The reviewer describes the designs as amateurish-looking and portions of the movement as stiff, yet also acknowledges that the production reportedly operated on a budget of roughly $600,000 and avoids placing the blame directly on individual artists. He ultimately credits the film with some visual merit while arguing that the style never compensates for the narrative weaknesses. His observation that explicit language and nudity can feel strangely disconnected from an otherwise cartoonish presentation also illustrates the broader tonal uncertainty he sees throughout the production.
Presentation is considerably messier. Rapid-fire references to Tumblr fandom culture, Steven Universe, Adventure Time, SpongeBob, Reddit, fandom rivalries, and other online touchstones create an energetic comic voice, but the constant jokes often crowd out the analysis. The repeated mockery of names, character behavior, animation choices, and dialogue sometimes makes the critique entertaining, yet also creates a danger of reproducing the very pile-on mentality the reviewer eventually argues has gone too far. A lengthy mattress sponsorship and additional channel and membership promotions further interrupt an already digressive structure.
Still, the final position is notably more restrained than the hostile internet framing used at the beginning. The reviewer concludes that the movie is unsuccessful primarily because he finds it boring, poorly developed, heavy-handed, and populated by shallow characters—not because queer animation is inherently objectionable—and explicitly argues that queer representation cannot substitute for effective storytelling. He also says the widespread hatred has become exaggerated and rejects the idea that apparent representational mistakes necessarily demonstrate malicious intent. The closing Dolly Parton tribute is sincere and thematically connected through its message of acceptance, although its sudden arrival after an animated-film critique produces another abrupt tonal shift.
Pros
- Builds its main criticism around character development, exposition, relationships, and pacing rather than simply attacking the film for its LGBTQ subject matter.
- Separates allegations of an anti-trans message from the creators’ stated intentions and acknowledges how unclear characterization may have produced conflicting interpretations.
- Identifies specific missed opportunities involving Sarah, Kiki, Willow, and Sarah’s parents instead of relying entirely on generalized dislike.
- Gives the limited-budget animation some credit and avoids treating every visual shortcoming as artistic incompetence.
- Ultimately pushes back against the scale of the online backlash despite delivering a strongly negative assessment of the movie itself.
Cons
- Constant fandom jokes, pop-culture references, and exaggerated insults frequently overwhelm the more thoughtful parts of the criticism.
- The confrontational opening risks reinforcing the online dogpile that the later analysis describes as excessive.
- A lengthy sponsorship and multiple promotional interruptions weaken the pacing.
- Some production-history and budget claims are presented with limited supporting detail within the discussion.
- The unrelated closing tribute, while sincere, creates an abrupt transition away from the review.
Beneath a deliberately chaotic layer of internet humor is a reasonably nuanced argument that representation alone cannot rescue weak characterization, excessive exposition, and an underdeveloped emotional arc. The review is strongest when examining specific storytelling failures and weakest when its relentless jokes begin to resemble the dismissive fandom culture it criticizes, but its eventual rejection of both malicious-intent accusations and disproportionate online hatred gives the conclusion welcome balance.
