by Walter Chaw A punitive film that has one of the more
unpleasant third acts of any film in recent memory, John McKay's Crush is an atonal estrogen opera that demonizes feminism while gifting the most sympathetic male of the piece with a nice vomit bath at his wedding.
Because
of Depp's detached performance and a rushed
third act that seems cruelly indifferent to the horror
of the murders, the gruesome ending does not feel like the shocking reveal the
film was building up to, but rather like a gratuitous and
unpleasant fuck you.