The Wishes That Went Wrong: Crafting a Better Fate for “Wish Upon”

Ah, Wish Upon, a film so desperate to be enchanting that it ends up resembling a roadside carnival on its last leg—overshadowed by junk food wrappers and the faint echo of laughter long gone. If you ever wondered what happens when you mix a poorly executed screenplay with an ensemble cast that seems like they were collectively dropped into a blender, then look no further!

In this cinematic catastrophe, we follow the adventures of Clare Shannon, who discovers a mysterious music box that grants her seven wishes. Sounds promising, right? But wait! Rather than exploring the complexities of desire, unintended consequences, or the age-old adage that “be careful what you wish for,” we instead get a montage of teenage angst coated in a sheen of existential dread—but not nearly enough to make it profound. Instead, it’s more akin to watching your friend's cousin try to juggle at a party only to drop the balls repeatedly; amusing for about three seconds, but excruciatingly painful thereafter.

The acting? Let’s just say that if overplaying your part were an Olympic sport, our young stars would take home the gold. Clare, played by Joey King, delivers lines with all the emotional depth of a kiddie pool. Her wish for popularity is about as believable as winning the lottery by wishing on a falling star. And let’s not even get started on the antagonist, whose menacing vibe is so weak it could be swatted away like a fly. The charm of the music box, while it had potential, ultimately fizzles out faster than a soda left open overnight.

Now, if I were to rewrite and direct this disasterpiece, I’d start by throwing away the script and building a new narrative framework. First off, let’s embrace the dark comedy aspect; imagine Clare as a cynical anti-heroine who makes her first wish not for popularity, but for utter chaos among her social circle. Each subsequent wish would escalate in hilarity—perhaps wishing for her annoying classmate to be stuck in a two-hour loop of interpretative dance or forcing her crush to serenade her with a kazoo. Now that would keep audiences engaged.

To elevate the storyline, I would introduce a wise-cracking sidekick, perhaps an ancient spirit trapped within the music box, who has grown bored of mundane desires. This character could provide commentary on the absurdity of teen ambitions, delivering quips so sharp they could cut through the film’s syrupy sweetness. The final act would feature a twist where Clare realizes that true happiness doesn’t come from materialistic wishes, but rather from witty banter, genuine friendships, and maybe a touch of mischief (cue the kazoo).

As for direction, I would employ a vibrant, surreal aesthetic—think John Waters meets Tim Burton meets a 90s sitcom. The visuals would be delightfully chaotic, with whimsical colors that reflect the eccentricities of the characters, transforming every wish into an exaggerated spectacle.

In conclusion, Wish Upon serves as a cautionary tale—not of wishes gone wrong, but of a missed opportunity that could have been a glittering gem of dark humor. If only someone had the foresight to wish for a better script!