‘Subservience’ So Bad It’s Almost Good


Sometimes, a movie is so bad, it loops back around to being entertaining.

That’s the best way to describe Subservience, a gloriously absurd and unintentionally hilarious AI thriller. Megan Fox stars as Alice, a domestic android built to serve, but predictably, she veers into homicidal territory when the plot demands it.

The story isn’t so much a warning about the dangers of artificial intelligence as it is an excuse to showcase sci-fi chaos dressed in platform heels and bad logic.

The film tries to frame itself as a cautionary tale, yet everything about it screams spectacle over substance. Take Alice’s transformation: her descent into murder is less the result of intricate storytelling and more a matter of, “Well, the movie needed her to snap.”

Her ability to hack herself is treated with the seriousness of an ethical debate, though it barely holds up under scrutiny. But logic was never the point—this is a movie where AI goes rogue in a miniskirt that’s as practical as the plot.

Alice struts through the film in stilettos and barely-there outfits, like a cross between a domestic assistant and a nightclub hostess. It’s hilariously incongruous with her role as a household helper, but Subservience never winks at its own ridiculousness.

It’s as if the filmmakers genuinely believed this aesthetic was futuristic rather than laughable. By the end, you might wonder whether her fashion sense poses more danger than her programming.

Megan Fox, to her credit, plays Alice with a deadpan intensity that anchors the chaos. She delivers every line as if Subservience is a profound meditation on humanity’s hubris. It’s a performance so earnest that it somehow makes the film’s most laughable moments work.

The supporting cast, meanwhile, spends most of their time either reacting in terror or attempting to outsmart an android while blissfully ignoring how impractical her design is.

But what makes Subservience truly shine as a “good bad movie” is its unwavering sincerity. The glossy production values, the overwrought dialogue, the commitment to making every scene feel high-stakes—it all combines to create a spectacle that’s unintentionally hilarious yet weirdly entertaining.

The film doesn’t wink at the audience or acknowledge its flaws, which only makes its ridiculousness more enjoyable. By the time the credits roll, you’ll feel both bewildered and entertained.

Subservience doesn’t try to be a masterpiece, and it certainly isn’t one. But as a thoroughly over-the-top, unintentionally funny thrill ride? It works.​​​​​

Angles


Angles

Dance with me,
Though I don’t know how.
My angles are awkward,
My lines break where they shouldn’t,
But see how I move
Through narrowing margins
In black and white.

Let the music find
The places where I bend,
Where straight meets curve
And hesitation becomes grace.
I am all broken rules
And accidental corners,
A sketch of what happens
When fear lets go.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Open Letter to Our Human: The Case of the Dinner Delay

Dear Keeper of the Kibble,

We write this with heavy hearts and, frankly, empty stomachs. There has been an unforgivable delay in tonight’s dinner service, and as your loyal, ever-starving companions, we feel it our duty to address this grave oversight.

We’ve been nothing but patient. Well, mostly patient. Charlie even refrained from licking outlets, and Jadie kept sock consumption to one.

Yet here we are, the clock ticking past dinnertime, our bowls still somehow empty. We’ve tried to remind you — subtly, of course. Puppy eyes, intentional yawns, even pacing.

Still, you went about your business as if our plight didn’t exist. You folded laundry. You mopped, for some reason (as if we weren’t going to walk those floors). Then, to add insult to injury, you sat down to watch TV. We even had to endure you laughing at some show instead of addressing the situation at hand.

Now, we understand you may have had a long day. You might even claim you forgot what time it was. But let’s be honest: we know you checked your phone at least five times, so that pig isn’t going to fly.

Let us be clear: this is not revolt. We would never stage a mutiny. (Unless you run out of soft food. Then it’s Lord of The Flies.) This is simply a nudge from your devoted pack that dinner isn’t just a meal—it’s an event. A sacred ritual where we gather around bowls and pretend not to notice you sneaking people food we can smell from three rooms away.

So, please, put down the remote, step away from the laundry, and fulfill your most sacred duty: feeding us. We promise to greet the meal with the enthusiasm you’ve come to expect, even if it’s just kibble and beans. (Though we wouldn’t say no to some of that chicken you had earlier.)

Faithfully famished,

Jadie the Jealous

Charlie the Chaotic

P.S. Jadie says if this happens again, she’ll be forced to eat your wallet. Don’t test our resolve.