The film’s world is so hermetically sealed that it seems to have been intended only for writer-director Emily Hubley’s pleasure.
There’s a deceptive layer of questioning in Brougher’s POV that always keeps the viewer alert.
The presentation is too fake to be real and not nearly fake enough to be called avant-garde.
It isn’t an infuriating film until you comprehend how it works to pacify the tea-and-crumpets fanbase.