Forbidden Fruits 2026 Movie Review Trailer
Lola Tung, Lili Reinhart, Victoria Pedretti, and Alexandra Shipp star in this female-centric—and somewhat scatological—thriller.
A chaotic (yet formative) part of female adolescence involves the reckless appropriation of various trends, traditions, and cultural elements, in a haphazard attempt to construct a personal identity. For some girls, this means swapping one friend group for another, or going from being the band’s "nerd" to becoming a cheerleader. For others, it means dabbling in witchcraft.
Director: Meredith Alloway
Writers: Lily Houghton, Meredith Alloway
Stars: Lili Reinhart, Jordan Duarte, Victoria Pedretti
Thirty years ago, *The Craft* became an icon for an entire generation of 90s girls who dreamed of having power, beauty, and boys. A coven of four teenagers was capable of casting spells and curses, and the only threat to their power was themselves. Now comes *Forbidden Fruits*, a twisted teen comedy that channels the spirit of *The Craft*, but with a *girly-pop* aesthetic.
Forget the gothic attire and smudged eyeliner. These witches are "mall royalty": they proudly work at a trendy clothing store, and when they aren't rolling their eyes at customers, they perform daring rituals and ingest sequins as if they were psychedelics. However, while *The Craft* stood as a coming-of-age story and a moral fable about the importance of staying true to oneself, *Forbidden Fruits* is far more interested in shocking plot twists than in conveying any kind of didactic message.
Director Meredith Alloway makes her feature film debut with this cinematic adaptation of Lily Houghton’s stage play, titled *Of the woman came the beginning of sin, and through her we all die*. Together, they wrote the adapted screenplay, in which the store "Free People" is replaced by the—less lawsuit-prone—"Free Eden." There, a trio of girls with an intimidatingly *cool* attitude—known as "the Fruits"—sport daring outfits and form a clique so tight-knit it feels suffocating.
The bubbly blonde—who adores skimpy pink clothing and incessantly seeks external validation—is Cherry (Victoria Pedretti). The astrophysics "nerd"—quiet, saving up for grad school, and always dressed in shades of dark purple and black—is Fig (Alexandra Shipp). And the "queen bee" of their coven is Apple (Lili Reinhart, from *American Sweatshop*), who possesses an icy stare but a heart that yearns to find a "mini-me" to take under her wing. Much like in *Mean Girls* or *Clueless*, the girls discover a diamond in the rough in the film's protagonist: Pumpkin (Lola Tung). Admittedly, she sits at the very bottom of the social ladder, working as a free-sample promoter in the food court. But there is something about her that intrigues the trio. Before one can even recite the lengthy title of Houghton’s work, Pumpkin is already being initiated through a ritual involving blood, soiled panties, a slap, and a few fresh tears.
However, much like the heroine of *Mean Girls*, Pumpkin isn't simply looking to be "cool" by wearing spectacular clothes. She has a hidden agenda that leads her to discreetly stalk Fig and Cherry, digging for dirt on Apple and gossip about that "unmentionable" ex-best friend: Pickle (Emma Chamberlain). Through all of this, *Forbidden Fruits* veers away from familiar teen-comedy tropes toward unstable witchcraft, and subsequently toward violence worthy of a horror film—creating a movie that proves to be a wild ride, albeit not an entirely satisfying one.
Let's start with the Bible. The title of Houghton’s play—*From Woman Came the Beginning of Sin, and Through Her We All Die*—stems from a biblical verse (Ecclesiasticus 25:24) which, in essence, asserts that a woman’s role is to be a good wife; otherwise, she is wicked and deserves nothing but scorn. In the film’s third act, Apple sports this quote—which also serves as the play’s title—emblazoned on a tight-fitting T-shirt while snarling at the members of her coven. However, the deeper meanings of this passage get lost amidst a clash of pop culture references and superficial, hollow feminist rhetoric.
Apple has built her coven upon a homegrown, self-serving brand of feminism that demands its members empower other women, eliminate those who revel in the pain of others, and never speak to boys—except through emojis. Apple’s sermons are constructed from buzzwords, while the coven’s icons range from knockoff Barbie dolls to figures such as Taylor Swift, Marilyn Monroe, and Miranda Priestly.
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