We all know the formula. The camera pans over a dilapidated garage. A struggling artist pawns their last guitar. Fast forward ten years: they are accepting a Grammy on a helicopter pad.
The film’s biggest flaw is its script. In trying to champion the "modern woman," it often slips into cliché. The conflict resolution is often too convenient, and the villainous men are caricatures—either drunkards, cheaters, or controlling fathers. While this highlights the toxicity the women face, it robs the film of nuance. 90 middle class biopic