SXSW 2026 Review: FORBIDDEN FRUITS is a Spunky Witchcraft Flick with a Killer Cast

Meredith Alloway's feature debut is a generational take on cauldrons and covens. Forbidden Fruits doesn't hide its influences: a mall-ratty hybrid of The Craft and Mean Girls. Every review will mention these titles because the comps are unavoidable. The film, based on Lily Houghton's 2019 play "Of the woman," indulges in the specific culture of megamall hierarchies and performative female friendships, with the aroma of food-court pretzels filling the air. It's a product of its cackling tropes, perhaps a bit too subservient, but Alloway's cast savors the juiciness of their roles.

In the Highland Place Mall, in the heart of Texas, there's a storm a-brewing. Four girls, all employees of the high-end women's clothing store Free Eden, are building a coven. They pray to their deity, Marilyn Monroe, and praise the seasonal retail cycle. They're all named after fruits: alpha Apple (Lili Reinhart), cowgirlie Cherry (Victoria Pedretti), hopeless romantic Fig (Alexandra Shipp), and newbie Pumpkin (Lola Tung). Together, they hold prayer circles and conjure hexes from a silver, jewel-encrusted boot. But when drama causes friction among the fruits, and old, dead secrets resurface, their sisterhood rapidly spoils.

Producer Diablo Cody's influence is all over Forbidden Fruits, especially in Alloway's quick-witted screenplay. It's a motormouth of kitschy dialogue with mall puns galore, mixed with girl-gang dialogue like Wet Seal employees bantering on break. Apple leads from a place of male hatred, promising her fruits a “Paradise” of feminine empowerment but selling a matriarchal dictatorship. Parallels to The Craft—Sarah Bailey's war against Nancy Downs—are unavoidable, with how closely the arcs mirror. But Alloway's mallcore spin on everything is an elevating touch, exploiting the vapidness of false witchery through the adaptation of hollow consumerism and gender-scoped marketing.

The cast, comprised of uber-popular "It" girls of now, devours Alloway's material. Reinhart's ice queen is this dagger-eyed leader, overprotecting her flock, as all the actresses fall into the overexaggeration of their roles around her. Pedretti is the Mean Girls stand-in for Amanda Seyfried's Karen, a firecracker of sensual energy and ditzy charm that's bubblier than champagne on New Year's Eve. Shipp adorably becomes the ire of Apple's eye, hiding her cross-mall crush from the "Girls' Only" group. Then there's Tung, the Lindsay Lohan to Reinhart's Rachel McAdams, whose infiltration of Apple's orchard blends her chameleon personality with a mystery that stokes incognito unrest. They're all fantastic; the real magic that sparkles in Forbidden Fruits.

That said, despite all the neon-pink accents and lip gloss mafia antics, Alloway summons a predictable delve into the same poisonous traits that've doomed many a witchy collection. The way storytelling cuts right to the betrayals and sowing of doubt is quick, by intention, but not especially thrilling. The details that make Forbidden Fruits what it is—shawarma snacks, the A+ cast, big laughs—are the upscale ingredients of an otherwise cafeteria-style dish. Familiarity is not a killer, and Alloway's ambitions do plenty to sell originality. Yet, it's still hard not to feel like entire scenes are recycled parts plucked from elsewhere in the subgenre.

For that reason, Forbidden Fruits has a lower ceiling than expected until a raucous finale blows the damn roof off. Alloway navigates her nasty piece of scriptwriting through a mercantile lens, playing up the H&M-ness of witches who bite back at the patriarchy by making husbands spend their paychecks on overpriced garb. It's fun, tastefully tart, and absolutely has bite, even if you've experienced the underlying flavors before. But, let's be honest. You're here for the cast, and they do everything but disappoint. Don't worry, superfans, you're going to be happy with the result.

Movie Score: 3/5