There’s indeed a taut, tensely intimate little drama here, waiting to be chiseled out from the extraneous plotting and thesis-positing. Those flaws stem primarily from the character of Brandon , the recovering criminal whose storyline feels airdropped in from another — albeit not uninteresting — movie altogether.
His lurching trajectory collides with that of the central couple in a third-act contrivance that breaks the film’s languorous spell. Meanwhile, an attempt to impose some greater cosmic meaning on the story via Brandon’s drawling, fortune-cookie-philosophical voiceover is a glaring rookie mistake — a lack of trust in the movie’s images to speak for themselves.
Pretty fucking proud of my guy tylerriggs on this one. Keep sharpening that iron son
That’s what we used to call Florida -when old folks move there
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