Bama Rush is less of a documentary and more of a deep dive into an alien world I’ll never fully understand. The film peels back the curtain on the sorority recruitment process at the University of Alabama, and honestly, it feels like watching a cult initiation with better outfits. The sheer intensity these young women pour into joining a Greek organization is mind-boggling. It’s like their entire self-worth hinges on being accepted into the “right” house, as if that’s the pinnacle of life’s achievements—at 21. Forget careers, personal growth, or, you know, existing beyond college. This is it. The big leagues.

What really gets me, though, is the weird undercurrent of misogyny baked into the whole culture. For something that’s supposed to be about sisterhood and empowerment, it feels more like a ritual sacrifice. You’ve got hundreds of young women subjecting themselves to this bizarre, judgmental process, parading around to be ranked and judged, and somehow it’s all wrapped up as a proud tradition. It’s both fascinating and deeply unsettling.

Comparing this to UK university life is like comparing a Victorian tea party to a Wetherspoons bender. Where’s the chaos? The late-night kebabs? The 7-day drinking streaks and last-minute dissertation panic? In the UK, we’ve got halls, pot noodles, and maybe remembering to show up to class if you’re not too hungover. The idea that your social status could hinge on something as structured and performative as Rush Week just feels… strange. Cultish, even.

If you’re curious about American college culture or just want to marvel at something totally foreign, Bama Rush is worth a watch. But don’t be surprised if you finish it scratching your head, wondering how we went from chugging pints in a student union to this meticulously curated, high-stakes social ladder.