Bottoms

Emma Seligman’s Bottoms (2023) is a wildly anarchic and satirically sharp campus comedy that effectively demolishes the traditional gender power dynamics of the high school genre. Centering on two self-described “untalented, ugly lesbians,” PJ (Rachel Sennott) and Josie (Ayo Edebiri), the film follows their absurd scheme to start a girls-only fight club under the guise of “self-defense” for sexual assault survivors—all as a convoluted ruse to lose their virginities to popular cheerleaders. While the premise leans into the ridiculous, Seligman uses this hyper-real, surrealist playground to deconstruct the “bro-culture” and toxic jock worship that typical teen movies sanctify. By placing two socially marginalized queer girls at the helm of an organized physical rebellion, the film transforms violence from a tool of male dominance into a visceral vehicle for female agency and raw body politics.

The revolutionary spirit of Bottoms lies in its refusal to “sanitize” the queer experience or demand that its protagonists be perfect feminist role models. PJ and Josie are selfish, manipulative, and often wildly out of their depth, yet it is precisely their flawed, “unlikable” humanity that makes them such groundbreaking representatives of Gen Z queer feminism. Their friendship is portrayed with a raw honesty that acknowledges competition and betrayal alongside deep-seated loyalty. As the fight club evolves from a tactical lie into a genuine space for young women to reclaim their physical power, the film critiques how society socializes girls to be docile and protected objects. In Seligman’s world, the sight of cheerleaders covered in blood and bruises is not a tragedy, but a celebratory subversion of the polished, hyper-feminine stereotypes usually imposed upon them.

Visually and tonally, the film operates with a surrealist logic where the football team essentially functions as a paramilitary cult and the school administration is comically indifferent to the unfolding chaos. This heightened reality allows the narrative to skewer everything from performative “safety” culture to the fetishization of female trauma. The inclusion of Mr. G (Marshawn Lynch) as a checked-out teacher who somehow becomes the club’s advisor provides a hilarious subversion of the “wise mentor” archetype. The film’s final act—a gory, over-the-top battle on the football field—is a literal destruction of the most patriarchally-sanctified space in American high school culture.

Ultimately, Bottoms serves as both a riotous entertainment and a political manifesto, proving that queer women don’t need to be saints or victims to command the screen—they just need the right to be as loud, violent, and hilariously chaotic as the boys they are displacing. By reclaiming the “loser” narrative and infusing it with queer desire and physical combat, Emma Seligman has crafted a work that feels like a spiritual successor to Heathers and Fight Club, but with a perspective that is fundamentally, unapologetically female. It affirms that true empowerment sometimes requires making a massive, bloody mess of the status quo.