SENIOR YEAR (2022)

 

Directed By: Alex Hardcastle

Written By: Brandon Scott Jones, Alex Knauer and Arthur Pielli

Story By: Alex Knauer and Arthur Pielli

Cinematography: Marco Fargnoli

Editor: Sarah Lucky 

Cast: Rebel Wilson, Augourie Rice, Mary Holland, Sam Richardson, Justin Hartley, Zoe Chao, Alicia Silverstone, Avantika, Chris Parnell, Jeremy Ray Taylor, Ana Yi Puig 

In 2002, Stephanie is the most popular girl in her high school. She’s the captain of the cheerleading squad and dating the quarterback, and she’s well on her way to becoming the prom queen. Girls want to be her, guys want to be with her. She has it all until she falls off the top of the cheerleading pyramid and goes into a coma. Fast-forward 20 years and she finally awakens from her coma as a 37-year-old woman. She returns to her high school and tries to resume her role as the star of her school–and her quest to win the prom-queen crown.

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SENIOR YEAR is the kind of movie that knows exactly what it is: big, glossy, goofy comfort food. It’s not aiming for cinematic greatness, it’s aiming to be the movie you throw on at home on a lazy night and end up enjoying more than expected. And honestly? Mission accomplished.

There’s an ongoing difference these days between films that feel made for the big screen and films designed primarily for the couch. Senior Year is very much the latter. It has that polished, sitcom-style sheen bright, easy, familiar, and built around laughs more than visual ambition. You can usually predict where it’s heading, but the fun lies in watching how it gets there.

And to its credit, it gets there with plenty of charm.

The premise is ridiculous in the best possible way: a high school queen bee from 2002 wakes up from a twenty-year coma and decides the most important thing to do is… go back and win prom queen. That’s wonderfully absurd camp. The movie leans into it too Y2K nostalgia, exaggerated teen-movie tropes, cheerleader melodrama, and enough millennial references to make you laugh and wince at the same time.

What’s surprising is that underneath all the glitter and satire, the movie occasionally sneaks in some heart. The emotional lesson arrives a little differently than expected, which gives it a bit more freshness than your average streaming comedy. Even some of the more stereotypical side characters get little moments of depth, which is a nice touch.

And Rebel Wilson remains the movie’s secret weapon, even when she’s the entire movie’s not-so-secret weapon. She has that rare comedic gift of committing fully to a joke without seeming self-conscious. There’s no vanity there, no hesitation just a willingness to look silly for the laugh, which makes her instantly likable. Even when her character is being gloriously ridiculous, she’s hard not to root for.

The supporting cast helps keep things lively too, with Mary Holland and Sam Richardson doing particularly strong work in the “steal scenes whenever possible” category, as they just try to play their characters straight to hilarious effect while Alicia Silverstone’s presence adds a fun wink to the whole enterprise.

Is the film forgettable? Probably. Is it deep? Not remotely. But it’s cute, breezy, colorful, and genuinely funny in stretches. It understands the assignment: be a crowd-pleaser, hit the nostalgia button, and let everyone’s inner teenager have a good time.

Sometimes that’s enough 

Grade: C+