The wishes themselves are not particularly well developed through events. Claire wishes to be popular at school and, poof, she’s popular. There’s no event or character trait she acquires that explain why her social status has improved. You’ll just have to accept it, as much you’ll have to accept the film’s going-down-in-flames script that attempts to weave in uncreative twists at the last minute. And you’d have to be as dopey as the characters in this film to be surprised by the not so shocking reveal of an ending.
There’s a lot to laugh at here, even in the smallest details. Some street graffiti in a bad neighborhood read “Call Your Mom”; I didn’t know urban walls doubled as reminder notes you’d stick on the fridge. I could be mistaken, but I’m almost certain I saw Jerry O’Connell wedged into the brief role of an unlucky victim of the box. And there’s an uncomfortably laughable scene where one of Claire’s teenage friends finds herself attracted to her father while he plays saxophone, an arc that is thankfully never explored.
For as many unintentional laughs as I got out of Wish Upon, I still had to slog through predictable story elements and padded montages I had nothing but contempt for. It has such idiotic and mean writing that I’m sure some older audiences would write off as being true to how teenagers speak and act. If it’s true, these are the teenagers you don’t ever want to associate with for their immoral and commercially driven personalities. And there isn’t a single moment of terror in this picture as every twist, jump scare and death can be seen coming a mile away for even the most blind of movie watchers.
Considering the film is only 90 minutes, it felt way longer than it should have for an ironic joke that wears out its welcome, as well as being painfully derivative of Wishmaster, Final Destination and about 1/10 of all Twilight Zone episodes. Recommended only for the most seasoned of bad movie connoisseurs.