This was truly amateur hour, a proper cruddy flick.
I’m fucking sick of these thrillers that are predicated upon an outlandish McGuffin that kick-starts the unearthing of everything wrong (your usual latent, juvenile psychosexual issues) in a relationship between two bickering, petty, pathetic partners. It’s another case of ‘here we go again’, the power dynamics examined as the genre tropes move the plot forward. I’ve had turds more interesting than the two leads in this, and these jobbies didn’t speak, unlike the whining plonkers stinking up Together (2025).
It’s the lowest form of writing. Nobody needs or wants to see this drivel. Maybe confine dirty laundry to the home and just make a movie about the things that matter, nah? Like, for example, Patrick Bateman inspecting business cards.
Something like that.
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 