Turns out the 2010s dystopian YA craze never truly died — it just got a facelift. Netflix’s Uglies is its latest addition to the teen drama pantheon. And the dystopian film genre is proof that maybe not all things need a resurgence. Following the flop of The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, the Hunger Games prequel, it seemed clear that dystopian teen fiction should remain lodged in the 2010s. But Netflix didn’t learn its lesson, and instead, we got this: Uglies.
Based on Scott Westerfeld’s 2005 eponymous novel, Uglies takes us to a world where everyone gets mandatory plastic surgery at 16 to become “pretty.” It’s as if Instagram filters were government policy — mandatory yassification. The teens have been indoctrinated to believe that in the past the root of all evil was that some people were pretty, and others weren’t. And somehow, this caused an overreliance on fossil fuels. A nd in order to save the world, this futuristic society ended pretty privilege by making everyone pretty. Nonsensical, I know, but it only gets worse from here.
But of course, our heroine is not like other girls. Tally Youngblood (played by Joey King, whose Netflix teen movie contract is more heinous than Margot Robbie’s Chanel contract) is counting down the days to her government-prescribed glow-up. But of course, it’s not that simple. King’s character is in love with one of her fellow Uglies, who she affectionately calls Nose. They’re best friends, but Nose (played by Chase Stokes) is scheduled to have his surgery two months before hers. They make a pact to meet after his surgery, but when he doesn’t show, she sneaks into pretties territory to find him.
Cut to: her bestie totally negging her, leaving her broken-hearted but also confused at his sudden coldness. In the aftermath, she finds herself allied with a group of rebels who, to no one’s surprise, reveal the sinister truth behind this so-called utopia. Perhaps this was revolutionary back when it pubbed in 2005, but close to 20 years later, the concept falls flat. Now that prettiness is accessible through Botox or a TikTok filter, we already know the pitfalls of vanity. Social media also proves that, quite frankly, most people don’t really care. So Uglies has no teeth. And despite the best efforts of the cast, they can’t make up for this unconvincing dystopian drama — no matter how hot they are.
Who is in the Uglies cast?
The cast of Uglies is crammed with beautiful people pretending to be “ugly.” Joey King, resident Netflix teen star of The Kissing Booth trilogy (that made Jacob Elordi famous), brings her trademark earnestness to Tally. King’s “wide-eyed innocent discovering the world is a lie” demeanor is honed from her other forays into YA adaptations. But while this chaotic but likable character played well in A Family Affair, it’s not enough to redeem this vacuous character.
Then we’ve got Keith Powers as our rebel heartthrob David. Known for his roles in Straight Outta Compton and The Perfect Find alongside Gabrielle Union (another female age-gap romance), Powers brings the smoldering intensity of a guy who’s passionate about sustainable living and sticking it to the man. He’s eye candy, but it’s not enough to make the film worth it. Neither is Chase Stokes, whose role in Outer Banks launched a thousand John B wannabes. He plays Peris, Tally’s bestie-turned-pretty-boy. Brianne Tju, who you might recognize from I Know What You Did Last Summer (just about as trashy as Tell Me Lies), rounds out our main cast as Shay.
Stacked with gorgeous people, the cast conveys the the movie’s convoluted narrative as best they can. But I’m not going to listen to a bunch of people who are paid to be stunning wax poetic about the downfalls of being pretty. Sorry, Netflix.
Should we let the dystopian genre die? Not so fast…
Uglies may look like a dystopian drama and, for all intents and purposes, builds on the iconic dystopian fiction from a decade ago. But, as the movie tries to warn us, looks can be deceiving. Uglies might seem like a refreshing iteration of the same premise but it’s missing the substance that defined the Noughties wave of dystopian drama that shaped a generation.
Uglies wants us to believe that in a world ravaged by climate change and societal collapse, the biggest problem is… people not being conventionally attractive enough? The film tries to tackle weighty themes like self-acceptance, conformity, and the dangers of unchecked technological advancement. But its simple premise doesn’t hold up, let alone withstand the sledgehammering we get as the un-subtle message is drilled into us.
The Hunger Games was a nuanced take on inequality, consumerism, indoctrination, but also the cyclical nature of power and dominance. Through Katniss, we saw what it was like to grow up without hope, then find it in unlikely places, but then grow disillusioned by a false savior’s lies. The film maintained that book’s integrity and complexity. Uglies can’t say the same.
Uglies is riding the coattails of a mini dystopian revival, but doesn’t make the grade. Though it might be easy to see Dune as a stylized excuse to watch Timothee Chalamet, Zendaya, Florence Pugh, and Austin Butler go head to head, it works because the books are so rich with allegory and meaning. It’s a compelling story and a well-executed vision. Uglies notably lacks both.
That’s not to say Uglies is without its charms. In a world of prestige TV and three-hour art house films, there’s something refreshing about its mindlessness. The film’s visual effects deserve a shout-out, if only for their commitment to the bit. The blend of CGI and AI-looking graphics is kind of like watching a car crash. Like Netflix’s The Perfect Couple, you can put on in the background and still get the gist of.
Director McG, who similarly flopped with the charmless Gen-Z remake of Charlie’s Angels has created a film that’s fun to hate because it’s trying so darn hard to be liked. It’s a Black Mirror concept gone wrong and a message that’s come too late to have any real impact. But maybe it’s onto something, because I’ll watch that sumptious cast in anything — and maybe that’s the point.
