In Bad Moms 3: The Last Detox, the bad moms we love return older, wiser… and absolutely done with everyone’s nonsense. Mila Kunis, Kristen Bell, and Kathryn Hahn slide back into their roles with effortless comedic chemistry, but now their kids are grown, their homes are quiet, and adulthood feels less like freedom and more like an existential crisis wrapped in yoga pants. And nothing says “We need help” quite like spontaneously spending ten grand a night on a wellness retreat you can’t actually afford.
The film opens with Amy, Kiki, and Carla each spiraling in their own delightfully unhinged ways. Amy feels invisible, Kiki is one meltdown away from moving into her minivan, and Carla is convinced she’s entering her “feral aunt era.” In a moment of collective desperation, they book a stay at Nirvana—the most elite, most pretentious, and most spiritually weaponized detox sanctuary on the planet.
The retreat, run by Kate Hudson’s gloriously unhinged wellness tyrant, turns out to be less zen paradise and more bootcamp-with-crystals. Guests are greeted not with champagne, but with a lecture on “the evils of carbs.” Phones are confiscated. Talking is forbidden. Alcohol is banned. And the only thing on the menu is kale—raw, steamed, or punished.
Within hours, the moms are plotting rebellion. Carla leads the uprising, naturally, dragging Amy and Kiki into a series of catastrophically funny missions to restore balance to the universe (meaning: sneak tequila into everything). What begins as small acts of sabotage becomes a full-scale covert operation. Their antics escalate from smuggling burgers in their sports bras to hosting a blackout-level rave in the meditation chamber. And then, of course, they accidentally drug the entire yoga class.
The scene devolves into hallucinatory chaos—guru Kate Hudson trying to spiritually ascend through a ceiling panel, Kiki convinced her mat is whispering affirmations, and Amy attempting a headstand that ends in a levitating gong. It’s the exact kind of unhinged group disaster that made Bad Moms iconic, but with a new layer of midlife desperation that’s both hysterical and painfully relatable.
In the rare quiet moments between explosions of chaos, the film digs into something real: aging, identity, the pressure to “self-improve,” and the guilt women carry for wanting more than survival. Amy longs for purpose, Kiki craves boundaries, and Carla… well, Carla is actually doing fine, but she’s happy to cause problems on purpose.
By the time the retreat collapses spectacularly (literally—thanks to an overfilled margarita fountain and one extremely angry therapy alpaca), the women finally find what they came for: not enlightenment, but clarity. Their version of wellness isn’t clean eating or cold plunges—it’s friendship, laughter, and admitting that being a mess is way more fun than pretending to be perfect.
Bad Moms 3: The Last Detox delivers everything fans want: unapologetically raunchy humor, heartfelt friendship, and total emotional chaos wrapped in a spa robe. It’s ridiculous, loud, and wildly relatable—a reminder that real self-care is about doing whatever keeps you sane. Even if that means tequila at sunrise and the occasional accidental rave.
Because at the end of the day, you can detox your body all you want—but you’ll always need your bad moms to detox your soul.
