Aaron Schimberg’s film isn’t much of an argument, just a provocative discussion.
Ben doesn’t deserve our sympathy, in part for how noxiously the film has imagined the female characters who surround him.
It’s flatly fascinated by Lamb’s pathology without trying to understand its formation from environmental factors.
Alex Ross Perry’s film receives a beautiful DVD transfer that has one foot rooted appropriately in the less varnished past.
The film abounds in excruciatingly obvious, often precious, articulations of grief, where armchair philosophizing volleys back and forth with punishing abandon.
Arie Posin’s almost offensively “tasteful” dud remains irritatingly on the surface, more alive to the set design than the characters’ motivations.
While it tries to relate a story about the sloppiness of life, the way best-laid plans can go wrong in an instant, its script is neatly and tidily structured.
Its perspective may be above it all, but that doesn’t account for the shades of melancholy that pop up unexpectedly in lines of dialogue and in some of the performances.
An angry indie that favors hollow ridicule over credibility.