Ready Player One is too well-crafted to be as bad as anticipated, but too clueless about its own subject matter to be as good as its occasional flashes of brilliance. I can’t imagine how amazing it was to be in the room when some poor underling explained video games to Steven Spielberg, but yes, I can, because the movie explains them to an audience who already understands. A likeable cast suggests the movie might end up more than the sum of its many references, but ultimately, as with all pop culture, you’ll take away whatever you brought in with you.
 

Now that I’ve seen Flower, I have even more appreciation for last year’s Lady Bird. Both are coming-of-age stories about a young woman trying to figure out her direction in life. But Lady Bird has something that Flower does not: Greta Gerwig. This film needed a writer/director with a singular voice and real life experience. Flower was written by three men that may or may not have ever spent more than ten minutes with a seventeen year-old girl. It’s a shame, really, because  Zoey Deutch does the best she can with the material she’s given as our leading lady. In the end, much like her character, Flower is confused mess. 

On the television, the women who are after the bachelor sit for interviews.  Each talks of how she can't understand what the bachelor sees in the girl who got hypothermia.  They tell the camera of her lack of social skills, how she doesn't get along with them.  How they want to rip her throat out.