The film is initially distinguished by its poetic understatement, only for it to eventually succumb to staleness.
David Siegel and Scott McGehee’s film renders the rhapsodic Henry James novel of the same name into an abhorrent slice of tasteless familial drama.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, given the intimate and often unkind nature of these revelations, the film’s veracity hasn’t gone unimpugned.
Bee Season’s mysticism casts an incredibly cold, literal-minded spell.
Scott McGehee and David Siegel’s film doesn’t work particularly well as melodrama.