A wolf dude and a melodramatic bag of nerves have sex while her mother watches. The end.
Volcano explodes, people die, and I yawn.
Take out the overt sex fest, tame down the heat level, and all that’s left is a missed opportunity.
Who would’ve thought a Taylor Swift album can be transformed into a collection of exquisite male angst and feels?
This is one hot scary-ass mess from start to finish. Fortunately it’s kind of fun to gape at the mess.