The Hipster Llama’s review published on Letterboxd:
This film so desperately wants to be liked, to be revolutionary and tick every box of our current political situation- it is so eager to please, or should I say, please certain people, and piss off others, that it just ends up missing the mark completely. It muddles its metaphors, makes everything super heavy-handed, and kneecaps the dialogue trying to crowbar every inch of social commentary it can into itself. It's like an ouroboros of this lineage of horror, slowly eating itself and being forced to eat or regurgitate the excretion, and that cycle just endlessly continuing in a slow, painful death of the slasher, stretching from before the genre was even defined to this, the postmodern, final nexus. As I've said to others, this film is so on the nose it misses the nose and trips over its own feet trying to hit you, smashing its own face on the floor.
It references everything from Exorcist 3 to Mean Girls, and Imogen Poot's face is at one point scabbed in such a way to distinctly resemble the corpse at the end of Suspiria 1977, just, it really doesn't have the thematic coherence, smarts, or just good writing of any of them. Suspiria included.
Uh on the plus, Imogen Poots is always fabulous, and it certainly had good intentions.
Can I at least get a t shirt that says 'I watched that shitty Black Christmas remake (no, the other one), and all I got was this stupid t-shirt'? That'd at least make this all worth it.