Catfight (2017)

Catfight is the kind of dark comedy that lunges at you with a smile, turning a polished social setting into a pressure cooker for everything people politely swallow down. Onur Tukel stages the feud like a savage little ballet, and Anne Heche and Alicia Silverstone commit with such ferocious, fearless energy that the movie becomes less about “who’s right” and more about the humiliations, envies, and self-mythologies we carry into adulthood. It’s nasty, funny, and oddly smart in how it skewers class, success, and the stories we tell ourselves to survive—while never pretending its characters are easy to like. If you don’t enjoy abrasive satire or violence played for uncomfortable laughs, it may be a hard sit, but if you do, it’s a bracing, memorable jolt of comedy-drama that refuses to behave.

Catfight is trying to be a savage, darkly funny takedown of privilege, resentment, and the way politics and personal misery curdle into violence, using two former friends as human wrecking balls. The problem is it’s intentionally blunt and rough around the edges, with characters so hateful and behavior so exaggerated that the satire can feel more like a noisy provocation than a sharp point. If you need likable leads, subtle commentary, or emotional realism, this will probably feel alienating and a bit self-satisfied in its ugliness. If you can tolerate mean-spirited energy for the sake of a nasty little allegory, Anne Heche and Alicia Silverstone commit hard, and the sheer audacity can be weirdly compelling.