First impressions of The Duff are not encouraging. DUFF refers to: ‘Designated Ugly Fat Friend’ – a high school label of which you may not be aware. This being Hollywood, director Ari Sandel’s choice of representative for these undesirables is the strikingly beautiful and undeniably tiny Mae Whitman (Perks of Being a Wallflower, TV’s Parenthood.) Oh dear god, someone throw a bag over the monster’s head immediately.
Whitman conveys smarts and emotional intelligence. So much so that you expect a rewardingly snarky experience along the lines of Emma Stone in Easy A. Alas, the film falls into a bear-pit of lame cliches early on and never manages to clamber free.
Josh A. Cagan’s screenplay attempts to re-nose the DUFF as the approachable pal of the cool set, rather than as hideous outcast (as is the case in the real world).
The problem is that, tonally, the film is all over the place. The director never quite accounts for the vast differences between non-conformist, witty Bianco (Whitman), and cartoonishly villainous Mean Girl Madison (Bella Thorne). While the former perfectly captures Bianca’s insecurities, humour and growing confidence (as well as her endearingly foul mouth), her climactic declaration of self-assurance is a preachy, stilted speech laden with too much Message, not enough reality. 
Another bum note is the way the characters interact with technology. For instance, teens do not say “Viral? Viral.” before sharing mean-spirited videos. Nor do they ask “How many hits did it get?” while apparently being filmed for YouTube. Because, you know, it’s obviously not online yet. “Like, d’uh.” as the much superior Clueless would say.