One man’s trash is another man’s treasure—or in this case, one Disney fan’s favorite film is another reviewer’s reason to rage online. Even some of the most iconic animated classics haven’t escaped the wrath of one-star reviews, with critics calling out everything from plot holes to questionable character choices.

Think you can see past the roasting and still recognize the movies? From timeless favorites to a few you might have forgotten, these brutally honest reviews put your memory of Disney movies to the test.

Take the quiz below and see if you can get a perfect score by matching each scathing review to the right film:

How did you do? Whether your own Disney rankings lined up with the one-star reviews or led you completely astray, there are plenty more quizzes to test your knowledge. Share this one with your friends and see if they can beat your score!

Box Office Bummers

Some Disney movies don’t just get roasted in one-star reviews—they also struggled to find an audience when they first hit theaters. While a few of these films have since earned cult followings, their initial box office runs tell a very different story.

Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001) follows Milo on an adventure to uncover the sunken city, standing out for its bold visual style and action-packed approach. But when it came out, it didn’t quite catch on with audiences—especially with major competition at the time, including Shrek (2001).

The film ultimately didn’t perform as Disney had hoped, and its disappointing returns led to canceled plans for follow-ups and related projects as well as an estimated $54 million loss at the box office. What’s interesting, though, is how its reputation has shifted over time. Today, Atlantis is often revisited as an underrated gem, with fans appreciating its animation and nostalgic appeal. 

Meanwhile, The Black Cauldron (1985) aimed to bring a darker, fantasy-driven story to Disney animation, following a group of unlikely allies as they set out to stop the evil Horned King, with elements pulled from Welsh mythology. Based on The Chronicles of Prydain, the film underwent major changes during production, including cuts that impacted its final story and pacing.

As the first animated film to feature Dolby sound and early computerized animation, it pushed into new territory, but that didn’t translate into success at the box office. The film struggled to connect with fans and ended up as one of the studio’s more notable financial disappointments, bringing in just $21 million—less than half of its $44 million budget. Still, it holds a unique place in Disney history and has gained a second life among viewers who value its moody atmosphere and departure from typical Disney formulas.

Clearly, not every Disney film was destined for success. But that just makes these one-star reviews all the more fun to decode.

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By PAYTON McCARTY-SIMAS

Starring Lili Reinhart, Lola Tung and Victoria Pedretti
Directed by Meredith Alloway
Written by Lily Houghton Meredith Alloway
IFC/Shudder

When we’re first introduced to Pumpkin (Lola Tung), the new-girl lead of Meredith Alloway’s pop-witchy debut feature, FORBIDDEN FRUITS, she’s holding a sample tray of knockoff Auntie Anne’s pretzel bites. Anyone who’s ever been to a mall can practically smell them through the screen: a blast of pure sugar, thick dough and hot grease. This suburban staple is overwhelmingly sweet and full of delicious, comfortingly familiar empty calories. As you get older, it’s likely you can’t eat this kind of high-calorie food court snack anymore; those yummy bombs of gluten and fat sit heavy in your stomach, and their one-note flavor no longer satisfies. But as a tween, they’re heavenly. Arguing about the merits of Auntie Anne’s, then, is a little beside the point. I doubt you could find someone who hates a cinnamon sugar pretzel. Really, you either like ‘em or you don’t. But at one point, I bet you probably did.

FORBIDDEN FRUITS is like that, too. This movie is, in essence, a Y2K mall-stalgic rerun of The Craft and Mean Girls, pure and simple, with dashes of catty confections like  Jawbreakers and The Devil Wears Prada thrown in. It’s produced by Jennifer’s Body scribe Diablo Cody, and Alloway has cloned her signature style of wittily ratatat, long-acrylic-nails-on-a-keyboard dialogue with eerie, devotional precision. For younger viewers looking for more of this kind of film (fans of Scream Queens, for example), FORBIDDEN FRUITS will likely be a light, gossipy sugar rush. Older viewers nostalgic for this particular flavor of Teavana tea will almost certainly feel the same way.

On a technical level, this movie is admittedly in need of, like, a major makeover. Unlike the glittery Claire ’s-a-like charm bracelets its protagonists take as their talismans, FORBIDDEN FRUITS certainly isn’t pretty to look at, even on the unabashedly kitschy terms it openly embraces. While the props and costumes shine like the rhinestones the characters drop like acid, the shooting style is bizarrely perfunctory for such a surface-loving genre. The color grading is the same grey sludge that’s vexed audiences for years, a fact made more actively infuriating by the lovingly pastel teen-girl source material being drawn upon here. 

Its plotting is similarly paper-thin, its twists as obviously, blaringly signposted as the path from Sephora to Forever 21 on a mall directory. YOU ARE HERE: A Free People clone at a mall in Texas. Three young, fabulously dressed women, all named after fruits, run it like a private kingdom, using witchcraft to keep their (fr)enemies in line and their hair looking fabulous. Pumpkin, their latest She’s All That-style project, ingratiates herself with the resident queen bee, Apple (a note-perfectly bitchy Lili Reinhart), only to sew drama in the coven. Spells are cast, Olive Gardens are visited, butterfly clips are traded, gossip and one-liners are hurled – and blood is eventually spilled. On Wednesdays, we secretly fuck guys in sporting goods changing rooms. You get it.

If this stock plot appeals, you’ll have a lot of fun with FORBIDDEN FRUITS. If it doesn’t, skip it. Highlights include Victoria Pedretti as Cherry, the Bubbles to Apple’s Blossom, who brings more soul to her sweet, simple Southern belle with a troubled past than she has to. Alexandra Shipp is game as Fig, the ambitious one who just wants to go to grad school and maybe even text her love interest in words instead of the emojis Apple mandates for all boy-related interaction. The soundtrack is appropriately bitchin’. Most of the jokes land with a pleasantly chummy wink. As a witch movie (a subject I’ve personally spent years investigating), there’s not a lot going on here. “Our magic isn’t some WitchTok ripoff fluffy bunny bullshit,” Cherry tells Pumpkin during her initiation ceremony. It is. But it’s still a pleasure to see women playing in this particular teen-girl-black-comedy garden. As Apple puts it, “Women who don’t have a garden won’t grow. What did that one bitch say? ‘A room of one’s own’?”

See FORBIDDEN FRUITS in limited theaters beginning March 27.

In the hot, dry climate of Northwest Nevada, a mother drops off her daughter in town, urging her not to come home anytime soon. Cleo (Elsie Fisher) looks away as her mom gives her an unearned dressing-down, cruelly reminding her that she is not above her surroundings. She waits until her mother has already driven away before she responds with futile adolescent anger.

Cleo is effectively on her own for the rest of the film, with her mother never once appearing. Even when Cleo goes missing later in the film, the audience is never formally introduced to her mother. Instead, first-time director Fergus Campbell drops us directly into Cleo’s world — no parents, no rules and every authority figure is obscured, like the unintelligible adults in Peanuts cartoons. From the film’s hand-painted opening title sequence to the occasional intrusion of illustrations throughout the story, Sparks is the kind of microbudget indie that film festivals were made to showcase. Every frame is crafted with care and love for the cinematic form.

When a book on Jean-Luc Godard pops out of a cigarette machine, Cleo knows where she wants to go. She immediately disappears into the fantasy of 1960s Paris, a place she sees as the birth of a truer form of cinema, outside of American conventions. Luckily for her, she’s soon introduced to “The Crop,” a group of rebellious teenagers who believe the local reservoir is a time portal. The group’s de facto leader, Antoine (Charlie Foster), is just as enamored of Paris in the 1960s, despite knowing nothing of the French New Wave. Once he meets Cleo, he’s instantly obsessed with her, driving a wedge between him and his best friend and secret lover, Max (Denny Mcauliffe).

The rest of the group is much more chill, fascinated by the idea of time travel but content where they are. The original “Crop” includes the emotional Antoine, brutally honest Max, goofy Trip (Simon Downes Toney), laid back Kane (Thomas Deen Baker) and soft-spoken Casazza (Julia D’Angelo). Then there’s Odette (Madison Hu), who is secretly in love with Cleo, but mostly keeps it to herself. It’s Odette who introduces Cleo to “The Crop” and sets the story into motion.

With its queer love triangle and multiple scenes of “Crop” boys hooking up with each other, Sparks feels like a modern successor to the early films of Gregg Araki. Nowhere and Totally F***ed Up easily come to mind as we watch the kids party in the empty parking lot they call home, supplied with beer acquired with fake IDs. Similar to more recent indies like Kate Beecroft’s East of Wall and Luke Gilford’s National Anthem, Sparks blends classical rural imagery with a more ethnically and socially diverse worldview. Watching these films has been exciting, as they breathe new life into American independent cinema.

Campbell’s script has both stylized and naturalistic dialogue, giving us a group of teens who feel painfully real in their inconsistency. When Cleo goes missing, it’s unclear whether she actually time-traveled or is simply having a mental health crisis. It could go either way.

Foster gives a star-making performance as Antoine, an idealistic faux beatnik who can’t seem to accept that the object of his affection is just as clueless as he is. Fisher, who broke out in Bo Burnham’s directorial debut Eighth Grade, is the heart of Sparks, once again playing a girl who is struggling more than she lets on. Like many young women, she puts on a brave face, hoping her confidence will take her wherever she needs to go.

At a slim 76 minutes, Sparks pulls you in tight and never lets go, every frame bursting with teen angst and longing. It’s the kind of film that inspires young people to tell small, meaningful stories outside of the Hollywood machine. This critic hopes Sparks is seen by every teenager who needs it. Fergus Campbell has made something very special; I can’t wait to see what he does next.