Chron: At least 90 percent of its speaking parts are female, but that doesn't mean Bridesmaids is a chick flick — any more than The 40-Year-Old Virgin or Wedding Crashers or The Hangover was a dude flick, or whatever single-syllable masculine nickname rhymes with "flick." (I'll just give you a second.)
In fact, let us do away with the heinous designation altogether. Let's try to give "chick flick" the boot; from now on, I won't use it if you won't. And let no one apply it to Bridesmaids, a film of great hilarity, humanity, idiosyncrasy and grade-A, eyebrow-singeing raunch. There's a conversation about guns and bottoms that I cannot repeat but will stay with me, I'm sure of it, for a very long time.
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Deadpool & Wolverine wakes up the superhero genre with a swift kick to the taint.
The Beast Within asks if the beast is a mask or the true form.
