The Other Woman is an exercise in futility, pointing out all the ways women should be punished for existing.
This is a movie starring three women and it still does not pass the Bechdel test, because the focus of our ovary-having lives should clearly be focused on landing some primetime dick, which comes to us in the form of beady-eyed leading man Nikolaj Coster-Waldau. All of the lead actresses (Cameron Diaz, Leslie Mann, and Kate Upton) are as close to the patriarchal ideal as you can get and they still don’t measure up, so the filmmakers create a gauntlet of fuckery to remind them how disgusting, flawed, and monstrous they are. That this is all done in the name of sisterhood is the final kick to the uterus the filmmakers think we deserve.
The point of this movie is not sisterhood, but making sure women band together in the name of heterosexual competition. Cameron Diaz is too sexy, Leslie Mann is too frumpy, and Kate Upton is boobs, but boobs that are not good enough to keep a man goddammit. Nicki Minaj joins this horror show as the Sassy Black Secretary™ (it’s 2014, right?), filmed from the ass out in every scene just to make sure Ida B. Wells does a few extra spins in her grave. But the casual racism doesn’t end with Nicki Minaj’s Hottentot Venus treatment—oh fuck no! Cameron Diaz’s dad (played by slimy, reanimated Don Johnson) takes her to his favorite restaurant; it’s called No Hands, because the Thai women servers will not let you touch anything, and just sort of hang behind you, placing bottles to your lips and food in your mouth. When the object of their revenge is fed estrogen for a while and his nipples swell up like pencils, he nervously comments that he should be featured in an "African documentary". They throw in a joke about transgender for good measure, then everyone ends up in the Bahamas, where they drive the topless Jeep of colonialism over the bodies of my disenfranchised ancestors.
This is a hot, steaming pile of garbage, and if you shell out money for it, on your head be it.