Bring It On review

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Pity poor Kirsten Dunst, - a first-division leading-lady-in-waiting seemingly consigned to the dustbin of teenybopper pap. While The Virgin Suicides may have signalled a career step forward, Dunst has unfortunately decided to take her act four steps back with Bring It On.

Granted, you have to take your critical thinking cap off to any filmwhich takes you inside a girls' locker room, however brief and limited the exposure. But a wee bit of ironic detachment would have gone a lot further than catching Dunst in her knickers in this interminable (and often laughable) feature-length assault on the senses. Predictably, Bring It On fails to supply even an ounce of irony.

If you're looking for a primer on the back-stabbing backstage world of cheerleading, this is your movie. Anyone else, forget it. Dunst is one of Hollywood's most exciting new faces, but she should move on. Girl, you've outgrown this training bra of a film.

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