I’m sure there’s some minimum word count I should be giving to each review, but even a week later, and I can’t stop thinking about this random soft core Skinemax knockoff that Netflix just quietly slipped onto their service. I knew it wasn’t Shakespeare. The audio description isn’t great, as it fails to translate any subtitles, but there’s a sex scene that starts almost immediately with dripping a blood orange’s juice onto the stomach of the female participant. this character, specific enough to indulge in blood oranges, has a closet full of only black t-shirts and white t-shirts. It is just one of the strangest films of the year, and sitting through it, I was quite agog. Yes, agog.

The writing is not good, the acting isn’t great, but this Tinder Swindler knockoff still bravely treads into fifty shades of nonsense, hoping that the steamy naughty bits will get it some attention. That’s like marketing a film just based on the nudity, hoping guys will show up to see a certain gal in the nude. And, that is a real thing, that has absolutely happened.

Fall For Me is trash. However, unlike some other films this year parading around like they are part of highbrow art, I’m pretty sure this one knows exactly what it is, and why anyone would want to watch it. Even with its multitude of faults,it still is better than many films this year that tried to do something more interesting and failed miserably. If you know what you are, lean into it. Squirt that blood orange.

Rotten: 4.8/10