'The Divergent Series: Allegiant' Review: Would Someone Mercy Kill This Franchise Already?

By Rebecca Pahle | Film | March 21, 2016 | Comments ()

By Rebecca Pahle | Film | March 21, 2016 |


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Hi, I’m Rebecca. I’m writing a review of Allegiant, the third of four films in that YA franchise that tried to be the next Hunger Games, only no one gave a shit. No, not The Mortal Instruments or Beautiful Creatures. This is the one that didn’t get cancelled. Divergent and Insurgent weren’t good. Allegiant is less good. Make it stahhhhhp.

I’m tempted to fill this review with pictures of paint drying. That is the extent to which Nobody Gives a Shit About The Divergent Series, a YA dystopia series based on books by Veronica Roth and oh my fucking God. No. No. I can’t. Are you even reading this? Why are you reading this? Why is anyone reading this? I’m pretty sure Veronica Roth’s own mother doesn’t care about the Divergent franchise at this point. I’m diggity damn sure Shailene Woodley doesn’t, because her energy level is at negative two throughout this entire movie. “What’s happened to my career?,” you can imagine her thinking. “I was going to be the next Jennifer Lawrence. People said I should have gotten an Oscar nomination for The Descendants. Why did the universe skip me and go right to Brie Larson? Was it the thing about sunbathing my vagina?”

OK, so, the plot. You don’t want to know about the plot. It’s predictable and dumb. It’s also incredibly slight: People go to District 13 a place. They find out District 13 that place is evil. They go back from District 13 that place. It’s almost as if Allegiant is the first part of a book that was split into two movies and is thus entirely set up for when things are actually going to start fucking happening.

Huh. Weird.

The Divergent Series’ convoluted mythology (people are sorted into “factions” based on their personality type, and there are people called “divergents” who don’t belong to just one group, AS IF EVERYONE IN THE WORLD DOESN’T HAVE MORE THAN ONE PERSONALITY CHARACTERISTIC, CRISPY PICKLEFUCKING CHRIST) is made even more holy goddamned nonsensical with the addition of things like “the Damaged” and “the Pure” and holy Christ just shoot me. Shoot me in the fucking face. If you think about anything in this movie for more than 10 seconds, you will want to waterboard yourself.

Jeff Daniels steps in for Kate Winslet as the well-regarded veteran actor who’s slumming it in some bullshit YA franchise because yachts don’t buy them-fucking-selves. Miles Teller is vaguely interesting, because he’s good at playing douchebags. Bill SkarsgĂ„rd is vaguely interesting, because I like his face, and because this is his first movie in the franchise so his character hasn’t been leeched of every single mite of substance yet. You’ll get there, Billy boy. There’s a dude with a mohawk who’s a pretty major character, and I swear to God I never figured out who he was. Was he in the earlier movies? Does he have a name? Am I supposed to remember him? Am I supposed to care? Am I supposed to care about any of this?

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