Feldstein is as charming as ever, delivering her lines with the earnestness and flourish of an extremely theatrical teenage girl. Her British accent, on the other hand, is so-so — the trademark inflections we’ve come to love through Lady Bird and Booksmart still creep through. Still, it’s delicious to see her embody a character that’s not only in control of her own sexuality, but truly revels in telling everyone about her exploits. In one scene, she’s strutting down the street in a white leather bustier and matching skirt, a huge white hat teetering on top of a burlesque bouffant, a woman awash in complete and utter confidence that she looks hot. And you know what? She is. Her sartorial choices are insane, and she does the absolute most at all times, but she’s such a force of nature that it works. It’s refreshing how much she looks and acts her age throughout. The fishnets, the hair, the thick black eyeliner all jump out as what a teenage girl thinks a chic, distinctive adult looks like. She’s everything I wished I could be at that age, but was too afraid and self-conscious to try.