There was a time in the mid-’90s when it seemed like every other indie release owed a debt of originality to Quentin Tarantino. Hell, he produced half of them! The studio press release for Habit, the latest streetwise and cinema foolish grimefest starring Bella Thorne, pays its dues in the first sentence: “Reminiscent of early Tarantino…” Drugs are once again the subject, only this time they appear to be the ephemeral auteur behind this cloddish frappe of guns, nuns, and jump cuts. A drug deal gone wrong (Yawn!) finds Thorne and her two conderates masquerading as nuns on the run. First-time director and co-writer Janell Shirtcliff tries so hard to be both irreverent and reverent towards Tarantino that she forgets the basic foundation of storytelling. I generally like Thorne’s choices and the anarchic disregard she brings to movies (and the pages of TMZ.) But that’s nothing compared to my passion for telling a story with pictures, something this film can’t get in the habit of doing. (2021) — Scott Marks
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