Watching the 1989 movie today, it's not just an unabashed chick flick, it's also revealed as a plain-old Bad Movie. For starters, it's not really about anything, instead preferring to work (or not) as a collection of loose scenes that illustrate the ups and downs of two friends (Midler and Barbara Hershey) from their pre-teens to the grave. Things happen, but not much. The film's only real plot point comes in the last act (spoilers ahead if you care), when Hershey's character croaks on us, sticking Midler with her daughter.
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Being neither a mother, daughter, nor woman at all, I acknowledge the fact that I'm not 100% qualified to comment on Sisterhood. I did trudge through it, though, which instantly earns me the type of respect normally bestowed on veterans of a vicious war. Just be warned. A self-proclaimed celebration of the feminine spirit, this story, this film... hell, the actual theater showing this film is no place for any transporter of testosterone.
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