tobe_whooper’s review published on Letterboxd:
Can we talk about how intensely problematic the Shelly character is? I know he's a fan favorite (ugh), but he's also the spiritual predecessor of today's "incels."
Shelly has a terrible attitude, has no idea how to talk/interact with humans, but insistently blames his social problems on his looks. All of this is established within our first two minutes of meeting him, and his simpering self-pity routine is reinforced later when he stays away from the water because "they were going skinny-dipping . . . and I'm not skinny enough." You know what jackass? Just get in the water and have fun. Nobody fucking cares what you look like and nobody feels sorry for you.
As if that weren't enough, he reveals his blatant sexism when he propositions Vera (who spends the whole movie being way nicer than he deserves, by the way) as if she owes him sex because he "really likes" her even though they haven't even had so much as a real conversation yet; she suggests they take things slow and Shelly replies with an under-his-breath "bitch."
What a gross, sniveling, self-centered twerp. If Jason hadn't cut his throat, by now Shelly would be mowing people down with his car in what seems to be the homegrown fragile entitled white man terrorist's favorite tactic these days.
Seriously, fuck Shelly and anybody that love him.