“MaXXXine” (2024) is a sequel and the third film in the “X” slasher film franchise, which appeared in the following order: “X” (2022) and “Pearl” (2022), which was a prequel to “X.” The final girl in “X,” Maxine Minx (Mia Goth, who also serves as one of the producers), birth name Maxine Miller, is finally about to make all her dreams come true while living in LA in 1985. She gets cast in a horror movie, which Elizabeth Bender (Elizabeth Debicki) is directing, but her past is beginning to catch up with her as a Louisiana private investigator, John Labat (Kevin Bacon), blackmails her by threatening to reveal her connection to the Texas murders featured in “X” unless she meets his mysterious client. Meanwhile as the Night Strangler is terrorizing the city, Maxine’s friends’ bodies are turning up, and she becomes a person of interest to Detectives Williams (Michelle Monaghan) and Torres (Bobby Cannavale). Will Maxine be able to juggle all these distractions so she can focus on what is important to her: becoming a star? 

“MaXXXine” is Goth’s favorite film in the trilogy, but it is the most inconsistent of the three, and the movie’s narrative fails to stick the landing, or at least convey its message in a way that will also be satisfying to moviegoers. Two-thirds of the execution is impressive as Maxine navigates all aspects of Hollywood without missing a beat: showbiz and its underbelly of sex, crime and murderous madmen. When Maxine is not going to auditions in the day, she toggles between shooting pornos along with her friend, Amber James (Chloe Farnworth), under the watchful eye of Frankie Love (Brad Swanick) and appearing in peep shows while waiting for her buddy, Tabby Martin (singer Halsey), to wrap up and escort her to safety. At night, she hangs out with her gay best friend, video clerk and former hustler Leon (Moses Sumney), who is her horror film guru and helping her prepare for her big breakthrough role in a demonic horror sequel, the fictional film within a film, “Puritan II,” which is met with a constant stream of protestors declaiming it as a work of the devil. For the most part, director and writer Ti West, who helms the trilogy, nails the Satanic Panic of the era. 

It was easy to notice that women occupied a lot of male-dominated professions, so Maxine’s story is just one of many about women fighting for their place: the director, the FX Artist (Sophie Thatcher), Detective Williams. Is it a coincidence that people are afraid of Satan lurking around every corner when women and queer people are exercising control in their professions without any male guidance? “MaXXXine” suggests that the hysteria is the religious right not being able to control the population and infantilizing women as simply misguided daughters, who then coincidentally get punished with death except for Maxine. 

Most of the fun of “MaXXXine” is watching Maxine confidently strut through every situation, which includes some impressive acting chops even when she is not auditioning. Unlike most scream queens, Maxine was not traumatized from her experience in Texas, but emboldened. The film toys with the idea that she is fearless, especially with the threat of the Night Strangler. The early scenes show Maxine does the exact opposite of what the frequent news broadcasts advise women not to do: walk alone at night when unnecessary. The payoff for her deliberate disregard is gorific and worth the price of admission. 

Maxine is not afraid of physical threats but becomes shaken over any threat that obstructs her path to stardom. Frequent flashbacks to “X” are not from the trauma of murder, but becoming like Pearl, a wrinkled psycho killer that never makes it, which is evoked in a great backstage makeup chair scene. There is one person almost as invested in Maxine’s fame as she is: her agent and (entertainment) lawyer, Teddy Night, Esq. (Giancarlo Esposito), who is completely in her corner. West missed an opportunity for not fully committing to exploring the delightful, demented professional pairing. This relationship holds the most potential: what can Maxine do if she had worthy backup as ruthless as she.

Instead, to achieve her goals, kind of like “Monkey Man” (2024), Maxine must confront her past, which is the only thing that makes her stumble and transforms her strut into a panic. It is not a bad concept, and it could have worked if Maxine acted consistently with the person that audiences have gotten to know. Unfortunately, that means a huge swath of the film reduces Maxine to someone running and on the defense, which is not as much fun retreading old ground from the first film. One confrontation on studio grounds could have imbued the gravitas of a neo-noir meets neo-Western, but instead Maxine retreats and hides instead of going toe-to-toe against the aggressor. Also her time on the studio lot with the director makes her seem like a meek and mild ingenue, which is plausible considering her shaken resolve, but leaches the joy out of the film. Half the fun is watching a coked-out Maxine own her world, and while I don’t mind Amazonian mentorship, it is a lot of telling, not showing which acts as an explicit to anyone who wants a cheat sheet on the meta commentary of “MaXXXine.” Sadly that section was only slightly more interesting than the references and pedantic nature of “The Exorcism” (2024).

Does anyone watching “MaXXXine” not know who the big bad is? There are hints since Maxine has similar dressing tastes as her stalker: both prefer black and leather. Even her makeup in one scene, which feels like a reference to Pris in “Blade Runner” (1982), turns up again in a scene when she finally faces her stalker. Eagle-eyed viewers who enjoy reading background scenes may notice additional clues. It seems obvious and somewhat unearned unless you are really deft at talking yourself into believing it, but it requires heavy lifting. 

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“MaXXXine” begins with Maxine acting for her own amusement in an alley to pretend that she is scared so she can get the upper hand on a would be assailant then grabbing old Hollywood by the balls in the form of a prone Buster Keaton impressionist (Zachary Moore). Conflating vigilantism with her hunger for fame was a brilliant idea. Instead of following that thread to its natural conclusion, West saddles Maxine with a tedious Freudian armchair psychology theme, daddy issues, which anyone can see coming from miles away and is the least interesting part of the movie. It feels as if West suddenly wanted to make “Chinatown” (1974) into a horror film without the hardboiled detective. 

The big bad is her father, the televangelist Ernest Miller (Simon Prast), who appeared briefly on the killers’ television in “X.” The implicit incestuous lust feels tired instead of horrifying. Satanic Panic did whip fundamentalists into a frenzy worthy of the Salem Witch trials, yet it felt a little unearned when it turns out that Maxine’s dad and his followers are part of a cult that is responsible for the slashing deaths of her friends. Were they also cattle farmers because they were too skilled with the branding and slashing? While the apple may not fall far from the tree, and it is possible that Maxine and her dad happen to be great at killing, it feels like a bit of a stretch that he would suddenly pick up that hobby late in life. Honor killings do happen, but their whole setup is so elaborate and theatrical that it passes into ridiculous camp. 

Also why would Maxine not bring her crew (loved that elaborate club setup scene and car crushing) to confront the then unknown stalker targeting her, who is a potential serial killer? I love the idea of Maxine as a vigilante against serial killers, but then it kind of falls apart. When she finds out it is her dad, she lets her guard down and gives him the gun? Yes, children, especially if abused, may falter and defy common sense in the face of a parent and fall back into childhood behavior, but it requires Herculean levels of disbelief to go along with it and believe that she would let herself be knocked out via suffocation without more of a fight. She still knows that this man killed her friends and let loose a vengeful detective on her. She ran away for a reason. Maxine would not fall apart like that. Anya Taylor-Joy would never. She would insist on more rage in that confrontation, and the reunion is a huge let down instead of explosive clash of the titans. He is so over the top that Maxine becomes forgettable in her own movie, and Prast’s chewing of the scenery did not work. He did not feel charismatic, but overblown. Where is Andrew Garfield when you need him?

The subsequent sequence could be played straight like horrible B movies from that era which required ridiculous shootouts complete with exploding heads. The beauty of the prior two movies is that they are simultaneously aesthetic products of their time and work as contemporary films. The split screens and wipe transitions are precise and perfect, but the story needs a lot of work and ultimately fails. 

Another denouement explanation is that her dad killed her when he suffocated her, and subsequent scenes are part of a dream sequence which would explain the chronological jumps in the remaining scenes which toggle between the cop confrontation with dad’s cult, her film career and press tour. The closing credits reflect the camera’s point of view as it floats above Hollywood then eventually to the sky and the heavens. The camera could be her spirit. She becomes a star as her soul ascends. During this entire sequence, Maxine does not act like her brash self, but almost as if a Stepford Wife replaced her. 

While it is a more cohesive story interpretation, it is not satisfying. I want her to survive and continue a proud California tradition of corrupt complicit understanding between show business and law enforcement so nothing jeopardizes profits as she keeps getting praised for self-defense. It was irritating that she was not concerned about the cops getting the VHS tape that she left at the video store. It felt like a dangling thread and sloppy work. 

While the music, wardrobe and shooting style accurately captured the cheap, sleazy joys of the eighties, the tone of “MaXXXine” ultimately could not sustain it. West and Goth could have given us a fame whore finally getting gleeful revenge on a psychologically abusive, bad dad which everyone could use during an election year revisiting all the worst aspects of that time, but instead they denied us catharsis and missed a great opportunity. Maxine does not do dumb shit or need saving. There is nothing worse than a great movie with a disappointing ending. What a waste of a good time!