Lynn Shelton’s film firmly resists supplying its main characters with easy, you-can-have-it-all answers.
Clea DuVall crafts an entire film out of aborted attempts at a revelation that feel completely anodyne.
In order to make the walk, and in order for it to matter to him, Philippe Petit has to comprehend it as real and impossible. Robert Zemeckis teaches us the same lesson.
And the jury’s still very much out over whether Shawn Levy is an inept comedy director masquerading as an opportunistically dramatic one, or vice versa.
House of Lies is as brash and cocky as the management consultants it follows; it’s also filled with just as much bullshit.
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