On the eve of joining the Peace Corps, whiny Allie and her condescending loftmate Harper decide to play hooky to connect with some cute guys they met at the eponymous hipster Brooklyn beach.
Fort Tilden is not so much about the destination, however, as it is about the journey.
Initially, the pair attempt it by bicycle, then have an Uber ordeal; they score Molly and wander across Brooklyn and Queens. It's intentionally excruciating and necessarily unsparing. Stymied and/or put-upon by even a charmed life's most basic demands, the duo get increasingly sunburned, delayed and sabotaged by their whims and petty self-absorption. But tucked in among the longueurs are moments of savage satirical virtuosity that pinion the zeitgeist.
In this world of privileged millennial ennui, having interesting-sounding goals is more prized than actually achieving them. Real insecurities live deep beneath the frenemies' cringe-worthy obliviousness, though all credit to the filmmakers for allowing their comeuppance to contain none of the empathy the girls deny everyone else.