The Nasty Girl (1990)

The Nasty Girl is special because it turns a small-town historical inquiry into a sharp, exhilarating reckoning, told with a wit and visual daring that keeps you leaning forward even when the subject turns dark. It’s a comedy-drama with bite: irreverent, briskly intelligent, and unafraid to puncture polite respectability as one determined young woman insists on asking the questions everyone else would rather bury. Lena Stolze is terrific, carrying the film with a mix of charm and steel that makes the mounting resistance feel both absurdly funny and chillingly plausible. If you prefer your dramas gentle and your satire subtle, it may feel confrontational—but if you want a brilliant, thought-provoking film that leaves you arguing with it in the best way, this one is worth your time.

The Nasty Girl is clearly aiming to skewer small-town hypocrisy with a sharp, satirical look at how communities rewrite uncomfortable history, and its commitment to that idea is admirable. But the film’s deliberately artificial style—ironic tone, staged-looking sets, and a heightened, almost theatrical presentation—can feel distracting, even confusing, especially if you want the subject treated in a more grounded way. It also hits a noticeable lull in the middle, and the wrap-up may strike you as vague rather than cathartic. If you enjoy bold, Brechtian satire and don’t need tidy emotional closure, it’s worth your time; if you prefer straightforward storytelling and a clear payoff, this might leave you cold.