So we open with hot, naked lesbo sex. I’m good with that. But, it’s not kinky enough for our main lesbo (Kate), and it’s too kinky for our supporting lesbo. Which is a recipe for frustration, no doubt. Much like the next 20 minutes of the movie, where Kate goes about her daily business, which is exceptionally mundane. Then, finally, there’s a blackout in the city (New York I think, or maybe some Canadian shithole), so maybe something interesting is about to happen… And, no. Nothing continues to occur. We watch as Kate puts batteries in her ghetto blaster. We watch as Kate plays a CD on the ghetto blaster. We watch as Kate looks at not-naked pictures of ex-girlfriends while listening to the CD playing on the ghetto blaster. Kate looks stressed out and bored. So, presumably, do I at this point. Oh hey, now Kate’s going out! Something’s bound to happen now! At least, I hope so, because there’s an hour of movie left at this point. So she goes to a club and meets a pretentious douchenozzle from Canada (yeah, we’ve established this is New York now, in belaborous detail), and they have a super-tedious conversation about boring shit. At this point, I check to see if this was written by a woman, because sometimes women have odd ideas about what should be in horror movies. But no, it’s some dude named “Elias”. Just Elias. Like, you know, Sting, or somebody. Then she wants to have sex, but he won’t because they’ve both been drinking and he’s Canadian. So she stumbles out of the club, pukes in the street, and totters off home. And now there’s 45 minutes left in the movie and I’m worried I might not have enough laundry left to fold to keep me busy for that long. Then Canadia-boy figures out he’s got at least one nut and shows up at her apartment, where they fuck, off-screen goddammit. So I guess she’s not 100% lesbo. Then in the next scene, she’s bitching to him about how shitty her life is, except that he’s not there, so he either left or he was never there in the first place. I’m out of laundry to fold, so I begin to contemplate my navel more closely. Is that some lint? Oh hey, she took her shirt off and there’s boobies and flashbacks. Now I think she’s contemplating suicide; I know I am. 30 minutes left. Remember kids, I’m doing this for you. Normally by now I’d be wrapping up the part where I talk about the plot, but nothing has really happened, so it’s difficult to figure out where to leave off. Maybe when I get to the end of the movie, I’ll be able to figure out the point at which the plot thickened. So hold on, I’ll be back after the end, if I haven’t blown my brains out.
Ok, I’m back. Turns out I did pick the right spot, which makes sense, because I’m a professional. And as a professional, I can admit when I’m wrong. The stuff that happened in the last 30 minutes of this movie, while still not exactly throbbing with action, made me reevaluate everything that had happened up to that point, and I actually have to say, this was quite good in a very subtle, slow-burn way. Probably not for everyone, but it was not at all what I thought it would be. Also, Whitney Able was really damn good as Kate. So, I’m going to call this recommended, if you’re up for something that’s really more of a psychodrama with some horror overtones. And it does have some nice boobage.