Juliette Lewis is an actress who seems to get relegated to supporting roles. It makes sense though. There is a wounded quality to her. Her performances are often comic, but there is regularly something sad, desperate and manic to them. Kelly & Cal asks Lewis to be slightly more reserved than usual. Yet she still brings with her the signature, quiet melancholy that defines her best performances. It is this underlying darkness and sadness brought to the film that elevates its meager story.

Kelly & Cal won the 2014 SXSW Gamechanger Award, given to a female director for a narrative film. Many of the films that are nominated for and win the award are distinguished by their desire to place women’s stories front and center – in this case, director Jen McGowan and writer Amy Lowe Starbin tell the under-told story of the early months of maternity after childbirth (though they occasionally, unfortunately lose sight of that story thread). These Gamechanger films are typically character studies that can be scathing and dark. For example, fellow 2014 nominee Obvious Child paints within certain romantic comedy lines, but it is also an uncompromising film about abortion.

Kelly & Cal also draws within some familiar genre boundaries. The film falls into the subgenre of what Rodrigo Perez calls the “‘unlikely friendship’ genre”. These are films where two disparate individuals begin an oddball friendship, one which might be skeptically received in real life but finds acceptance in the film’s reality.

Kelly (Lewis) is an ex-punk rocker turned suburban mom. She finds herself disconnected from everyone around her but, most troubling, her newborn child, as well as her husband (Cougar Town’s Josh Hopkins). Desperate to shake her miserable detachment, Kelly befriends smartass, wheel-chair-bound high school neighbor Cal (Jonny Weston).

Kelly and Cal bond over their outsider statuses and the fact that they are kind of terrible people. It is easy to imagine pre-disability Cal as a jaded loner who believed himself to be better than everyone else. The accident has only given him a convenient excuse to gripe about how awful everyone is. Kelly also carries a holier-than-thou attitude that similarly borders on grating. Kelly & Cal’s real strength draws from how dark and weird it is willing to be. Like earlier 2014 indie release Adult World, Kelly & Cal finds unexpectedly offbeat and bleak notes within conventional narrative limitations. Unlike other “unlikely friendship” films, there is no whimsy or a sense of doomed beauty to the events on display. Up to a certain point, the film makes just about every character deeply unsympathetic and unlikable. Kelly is selfish and narcissistic, and her funk stems as much from arrested development as it does from postpartum depression. However, her husband is often an inattentive, emotionally unavailable asshole, and this makes Kelly’s bizarre relationship with Cal all the more plausible.

Will they/won’t they tension hangs over Kelly and Cal’s strange relationship. Lewis and Weston have significant chemistry and the film gets a lot of mileage out of their charged scenes. At all times though, the film is aware that this relationship is questionable, and it recognizes that it is unhealthy and unnatural. Kelly pursues the relationship in spite of her knowledge that it is fundamentally icky. But Cal’s awareness is more limited, and he pursues Kelly with romantic inclinations. Kelly knows these feelings exist, but she still pushes the relationship further towards deeper intimacy and inevitable consequences.

Closed off from meaningful connection since the pregnancy, Kelly needs someone in her life. But she finds herself incapable of striking up more appropriate friendships. She tries to befriend a group of new moms, but they are dismissive and obnoxious. When she was younger, Kelly used to play in a riot grrrl band. She thinks this makes her a little cooler and wiser than everyone else around her. Never mind that she seems less attuned to the politics of punk than the privileges the aesthetics encourage.

Kelly is so caught up in her own problems that she ignores those of the people in her life. Kelly’s seemingly more put-together sister-in-law (Lucy Owen) reveals her own self-loathing over life not panning out as planned. Kelly & Cal sees nostalgia as a vice, and it views dwelling on the past as a foolish act. Kelly keeps discovering time and again that the past was not as rose-colored as she presumed. Yet she keeps returning to her memories like a junky looking for an impossible high. One night, Kelly goes out for drinks with old friends she has not seen in ages. She finds herself bored and disinterested. She is not the same person who fell in with these people. Cal also yearns for the past, one where he could walk. There is a sense of aching dissatisfaction and unfulfillment hanging over everything.

Kelly & Cal is somewhat reminiscent of Young Adult, another film about a female refusing to grow up with self-destructive relish. Kelly & Cal is not nearly as bold or daring. The film has an ending that feels pat and tacked on, and its conflicts and characters are, at times, too thinly sketched. However, for good stretches of its runtime, the film allows its protagonist to be reckless and unpleasant, and it also lets an unexpected level of sadness and ugliness linger under the surface.

For each of these films, the underlying question is about whether its central character can change. We are meant to understand in Young Adult that Charlize Theron’s Mavis Gary will never achieve change. Kelly, on the other hand, appears to have taken some steps towards growing up. She has settled down, bought a home, and had a kid. This proves to be a death sentence for her though. She was an edgy free-spirit, and this lifestyle is stifling. Up until the inescapable, inorganic final moment where Kelly happily embraces selling out, Kelly & Cal acutely mines the uglier, soul-rotting side to refusing to change.

Boasting grimy imagery, a primal, tightly-written script, and a breakout performance by a promising young newcomer, Kat Candler’s Hellion–an expansion of her 2012 short that tore up the festival circuit–is the best juvenile delinquent film since last year’s indie darling, Destin Cretton’s Short Term 12. It captures the madness the boredom of a small, nowheresville town can elicit in restless teens and examines the inextricable link shared by a family in mourning.

In a standout performance, first-timer Josh Wiggins (discovered by Candler on Youtube) plays Jacob, a 13-year-old troublemaker who lives in the Southeast Texas town of Port Arthur with his younger brother, Wes (Deke Garner), and their alcoholic, widower dad, Hollis (Aaron Paul). When we meet the family, it’s quickly apparent that they haven’t shaken the effects of their mother’s passing. Hollis is trying his hardest to stop drinking away his problems, and Jacob wastes his time smashing trucks with baseball bats, setting things on fire, and doing other stuff troubled teens in indie movies do.

Little Wes is less troubled than his dad and brother, but Jacob insists on dragging him along on his daily knucklehead hijinks, acting as a poisonous influence while, more importantly, putting Wes in danger. Eventually, Child Protection Services catch wind of the unhealthy environment Hollis and Jacob have created for Wes and transfer him into the care of his aunt, Pam (Juliette Lewis). With Wes out of the house and Pam threatening to move far away, separating the family forever, Hollis spirals down into the bottoms of bottles and Jacob becomes more reckless and frustrated than ever.

The absence of Jacob’s mom is the movie’s foundation, driving the story even in its quietest moments: when Hollis scolds Jacob in his pickup truck, ordering him to “take responsibility”; when Jacob stares at Hollis with a defiant snarl because he doesn’t want to eat his sandwich. Through all the tension, we know they’d connect if only they could admit to each other what’s really eating them up on the inside.

“I miss her.”

“I miss her, too.”

Candler sets the dusty, muggy town of Port Arthur to a furious metal soundtrack including the likes of Metallica and Slayer. It’s an unusual mix, but one that turns out to be a match made in heaven. Watching Jacob tear across a motocross course on his dirt bike (his only productive hobby) while crunchy guitars blast on the speakers is a thrill, and the obligatory lens flare from the sun gives everything a nostalgic glow that’ll have you missing the days when you could just go outside with your friends and roll around in the muck for fun. All in all, Candler and her team’s presentation is top-notch and stirringly atmospheric.

Wiggins is a superstar in his debut, capturing the volcanic nature of teens harboring too much energy for their undeveloped bodies to contain. He makes good decisions and reacts well to what he’s given his more experienced adult counterparts. Paul played a young punk himself in the role of his career in Breaking Bad, and he slips into the role of flawed father figure nicely here. Lewis is pleasingly cast against-type, playing perhaps her most chemically balanced character ever with honesty and naturalism. She’s a wonderful surprise and overachieves in a role that could have been one-note.

The way the film wraps up feels a bit odd, with a home invasion sequence feeling tonally dissonant. Lewis thankfully saves the otherwise overblown scene with a wonderfully grounded reaction, and Wiggins follows suit. While the ending could have been a knockout had it gone in a gutsier, off-the-beaten-path direction, it still manages to emphasize the film’s poignant message: A broken family is still a family.

Hellion trailer

Broad and brutal, August: Osage County doesn’t offer much in the way of subtlety, but there’s something satisfying about indulging in the bigness of it all. The all-star cast, headed up by a bitch-mode Meryl Streep and a seething Julia Roberts, put up bombastic, larger-than-life performances. Which makes sense, since it’s based on the Pulitzer Prize-winning Tracy Letts (Bug, Killer Joe) stage play. This “home-for-the-holidays” family drama’s (substitute “family tragedy” for “holidays”) transition from theater into the world of cinema isn’t a smooth one (due to director John Wells’ lack of vision), but the venomous dialog delivered by the accomplished, decorated cast make it hugely entertaining.

Streep plays Violet, the cancer-stricken matron of the Weston family. She’s a pill-munching, fire-breathing, queen of cruelty who fancies herself a “truth-teller”, when in reality she’s a mean old witch. Her toxic tendencies have trickled down to her three daughters, effecting them each in different ways. Julianne Nicholson’s Ivy has been rendered uncommonly dependent on Violet, never leaving their Oklahoma family home. Oppositely, ditzy, flighty Karen Weston, played for laughs by Juliette Lewis, has made herself scarce for years. Roberts plays Barbara, who shares a most contentious relationship with Violet and has inherited her mother’s nasty bark. When their father (Sam Shepard, whose screen time is brief and sweet) goes missing, the sisters reconvene at the old Weston house in muggy Osage County, bringing their significant others and heavy baggage (mostly figurative) with them.

The tension between Violet and Barb bubbles, then erupts at the film’s bravura dinner table scene, where deep-cutting insults are flung, egos are eviscerated, and we even get a mother-daughter grappling match. The construction of the scene is excellent; if the basement bar scene in Inglorious Basterds is a slow, steep incline leading to a sudden, furious drop, Letts’ symphony of wicked barbs is a twisty-turny, rickety wooden roller coaster ride full of surprises. There are so many tonal shifts, big laughs, awkward laughs, long silences, explosions of anger, and cuttingly clever jabs that your head will spin (mine almost spun right off my neck).

Streep is as Streep-y as ever as Violet, attacking every syllable of every piece of dialog with full force. Her spiteful glare and inebriated rage are met with a cerebral, sober, but equally deadly antagonism from Roberts, whose performance is raw and stripped-down (she’s usually at her best in this mode). Their scenes together are dynamite across the board, surprising no one. The acting, like the story, is a bit obtuse, but the spectacle of these heavyweight actresses going toe-to-toe, line-for-line, is ridiculously fun to watch.

The two other Julias are excellent as well, and each of the supporting players have wonderful moments. Playing the sisters’ lovers are Ewan McGregor (he still hasn’t gotten that American accent quite right…), Dermot Mulroney (surprisingly funny), and Benedict Cumberbatch (playing a meek, boyish character for once). Abigail Breslin, Chris Cooper, and Margo Martindale also impress.

Wells sits high in the director’s chair, but his filmmaker fingerprint is nowhere to be found. It seems as though he’s gotten Letts to adapt his play, collected some of the strongest actors he could find, and let them all do the heavy lifting while he does little to transform the theater experience into a cinematic one. Aside from moving certain scenes from interiors to exteriors, there’s no effort made to yank the story away from the stage, where its roots are buried deep. Wells does little to nothing interesting with his camera, and there isn’t a memorable shot to be found. It’s visual vanilla.

The film picks up speed as it progresses, with a cascade of earth-shattering revelations in the latter half causing the characters to exit one by one until only Violet and Barb are left. Everyone leaves battered and bruised to the core, but Violet and Barb are left crippled in the wreckage of the family implosion. They’re ugly creatures the both of them, and though Barb is still pretty on the outside, she can see her monstrous future self wasting away right in front of her eyes.

Steve McQueen, 12 Years a Slave, and the Unexpected Guest

Of all the films in the exceedingly strong MVFF lineup, none have generated the momentum and near-universal acclaim of Steve McQueen’s 12 Years a Slave, based on the autobiography of Solomon Northup, a free black man who was kidnapped and sold into slavery in 1841. McQueen and stars Chiwetel Ejiofor (who plays Northup) and Lupita Nyong’o took the stage in front of a full house at the Christopher B. Smith Rafael Film Center to answer the questions of the audience, who were still reeling after seeing the gut-wrenching film.

“I wanted to make a film about slavery because I felt, within the cannon of film, this particular subject hadn’t been tackled,” professed a straight-faced McQueen. “Everybody knows Anne Frank’s diary. Every school should have 12 Years a Slave (the book) on their curriculum. That’s my aim with this film.”

During the Q&A session, something very special happened, though few noticed it. The mobile microphone that had been floating around the theater from person to person wound up in the hands of Fruitvale Station director and Bay Area native, Ryan Coogler, one of the brightest young directors in the game. Funny thing is, very few audience members seemed to recognize Coogler, though he didn’t seem to pay that any mind at all. With wide-eyed curiosity, eagerness, and humility, Coogler–amongst a sea of weighty questions about slavery–chose instead to ask McQueen about filmmaking technique, specifically his proclivity for doing one-shot takes as opposed to traditional coverage.

“I don’t do coverage,” McQueen explained to the intently focused Coogler. “For me, it’s a waste of time because I know what I want.” It’s this confident, assertive, no-bull attitude that so many great auteurs share, and in that moment between McQueen and Coogler, I could sense the future of cinema getting just a little bit brighter.

A Dark Teen Idol Returns with a Powerhouse Performance

No red carpet arrival at MVFF could match the energy of Jared Leto’s. The most likely explanation for the fervor is that he’s one of the dreamiest cinema dreamboats of the past 20 years, but in his new film, Dallas Buyers Club (his first film in four or five years), he proves once again that he’s much too talented to be reduced to just another pretty face.

Based on a true story, the film (you know, the one Matthew McConaughey lost a bunch of weight for) follows Ron Woodruff (McConaughey), a bull-riding man’s man who was diagnosed as being HIV positive and subsequently waged pharmaceutical war on the FDA and other companies in the ’80s in hopes to make alternative treatments available for HIV-positive patients. Leto plays Rayon, a transsexual, HIV-positive business partner of Ron’s who’s got sass and hustle for days. Though McConaughey is likely to get an Academy Award nomination for his turn as Woodruff, Leto is equally deserving of a supporting nod, with a performance so lived-in and remarkable it’ll make you wish he’d quit 30 Seconds to Mars (that rock band of his) and come back to acting for us full-time.

Leto stayed in character even when off-set, walking around with Rayon’s leggings, lipstick, and clothes on. “It was interesting how people treated me differently,” Leto said in the post-screening Q&A session. “Every glance somebody gave me, every time I had an encounter, every time a grip offered his hand when I stepped out of the van…it ultimately helped me deliver a much better performance.”

John Wells Turns the Tables

One of the best things about film festivals are the Q&A’s; everyday people like you and me get to pry the brains of some of the most talented filmmakers in the business. Director John Wells, however, flipped the script on the MVFF Q&A crowd–who had just finished watching his new film, August: Osage County–by asking them questions.

“Did you think it was funny?” Wells asked, earnestly, which was met by an emphatic, unanimous “yes” and a smattering of applause from the smiling festival-goers. Wells was likely concerned whether the film’s humor came through or not because the film–based on the Pulitzer Prize-winning play of the same name by Tracy Letts, who also wrote the screenplay–revolves around a family tragedy and crises. The feuding women of the Weston family–played by Meryl Streep as the drug-addled matriarch, and Julia Roberts, Julianne Nicholson and Juliette Lewis as Streep’s daughters–are brought together after years of separation to their old Oklahoma home after receiving devastating news about their father, Beverly (Sam Shepard).

Wells went further with his questioning, asking the audience members who were familiar with the play if there was something they missed from the stage version that he cut from his screen adaptation. When several audience members voiced their preference for the play’s ending (which is only slightly different), Wells admitted their feedback could have an effect on the final cut of the film. “I actually have to lock the film by Monday or Tuesday next week, which is why I’m asking these questions!”

When asked about the on-screen relationship between Streep and Roberts and how they approached their roles as mother and daughter, Wells explained just how significant their mother-daughter chemistry is to the story. “One of the themes of the film is, for better or for worse, we become our parents. We reach a moment in our adult lives at which we have to decide what we’re going to use and what we’re not going to use.”

Blues Bad-Asses Rock Sweetwater

In celebration of late Blues guitar legend Mike Bloomfield and the new film detailing his life, Sweet Blues (which played at MVFF), music fans piled into Mill Valley’s historic Sweetwater Music Hall to listen to some of the baddest Blues on the planet played by some veteran virtuosos and some old friends of Bloomfield’s. Amongst the music marvels were Conan O’Brien cohort Jimmy Vivino, Bay Area Blues veteran Elvin Bishop, and harmonica master Charlie Musselwhite. The tiny, excellent-sounding venue was packed shoulder to shoulder with elated music lovers swaying as one, a perfect way to unwind and a perfect lead-in to what’s sure to be a killer final two days at the festival.

Stay tuned to Way Too Indie for all the news coming out of the festival this weekend, including coverage of the directors panel (Ryan Coogler, Steve McQueen, JC Chandor, Scott Cooper, John Wells), capsule reviews, interviews, photo galleries, and much more!

Containing an all-star cast including, Meryl Streep, Julia Roberts, Ewan McGregor and Juliette Lewis, comes a dramatic comedy based on the play by Tracy Letts. The film will be produced by George Clooney and Harvey Weinstein (amongst others) and distributed by The Weinstein Company. The trailer balances the contrasting seriousness and comedic values very well. What has me intrigued the most about John Wells’ August: Osage County is the assortment of characters and the actors that play them. The film seems like it will be very character driven, hopefully they will be developed enough for us to really invest in their emotional family drama.

Watch the official trailer for August: Osage County:

When I saw that Drew Barrymore directed a film starring Ellen Page, I couldn’t wait to see what they would accomplish together. After being a fan of Drew Barrymore for years, and loving Ellen as Juno, my first instinct was that I would either love the film or have my hopes for something epic dashed by a poor storyline or bad supporting actors. However the screenplay, adapted from the novel Derby Girl by Shauna Cross, gave Page the perfect character to portray and a great narrative to support her. With an awesome storyline about a teenage girl fighting against her mother’s wishes to become a beauty queen by joining a roller derby team, I did have high expectations about what would be produced. I am pleased to say that Whip It did not disappoint, despite what box office figures may have said.

The film begins with Bliss Cavendar (Ellen Page) dying her hair blue while her mother (Marcia Gay Harden) waits anxiously for her to appear on stage at the latest beauty pageant she has entered Bliss into. When she finally emerges, the crowd of pageant-goers and contestants all fall silent, troubled by the sight of her. She does not seem to appear affected by the judgement she is receiving, more uncomfortable to have to endure unnecessary attention.

On a shopping trip with her mother, Bliss encounters three roller derby girls flying past her leave a flyer to promote their first match of the season. Bliss, and her best friend Pash (Alia Shawkat), eager to escape their small town drudgery, head over to Austin to witness a night of kick-ass entertainment. Confronted with a world so different from the one imposed upon her by her mother, Bliss immediately falls in love with the spectacle of roller derby; a world much more in tune with her personality than beauty pageants. Approaching Maggie Mayhem (Kristen Wiig) of the Hurl Scouts roller derby team at the end of the game, she admits that they are her “new heroes”. Maggie tells Bliss that she should try out for the team so that she can be her “own hero”.

Whip It depicts a girl struggling to break free from having to conform to her mother’s fifties female idealism, and of course Ellen Page is the perfect rebellious figure to portray such a character. With the words of Maggie Mayhem encouraging her, she attends the try-outs and successfully achieves a place on the team. At first Bliss is quite timid and doesn’t grasp that roller derby is a ‘contact sport’ – she shies away from confrontation and aggression. However, determined to be accepted as part of the team, her courage and skill improves and the team nickname her “Babe Ruthless”.

After Bliss is christened into the group her confidence to challenge the nuisances in her life almost consumes her entire personality. Nothing holds her back from telling or showing people how she feels about them. Bliss meets Oliver (Landon Pigg), the guitarist and singer for a local rock band, and falls head over heels for his musical talent and boyish charms. Her relationship with Oliver offers one of the most unique moments of beautiful choreography during the film. The happy couple dive, fully clothed, into an abandoned indoor swimming pool. Bliss and Oliver embracing underwater gave has a wonderful energy as they playfully undressed – dancing to a melody only they understand.

Despite Bliss’s awakening, her mother’s staunch idealism is ever-present and she constantly meets opposition from her parents’ due to their expectations. When her mother discovers that rather than fulfilling her own dreams as a beauty pageant queen, she has been pursuing her own dream as a roller derby pin up girl, their disapproval of her new identity as “Babe Ruthless” leaves her little choice other than to leave home. At this point, Bliss’s life goes from bad to worse; her disobedient attitude towards almost everything causes her to experience a lot of hardship.

Throughout the film, Bliss undergoes harsh realities and severe consequences for her new-found care-free attitude, but with this life experience comes comedy, friendship, and confidence building, not only for Bliss, but the audience as well as we relate to her. Page’s dry humor, first seen in Juno, is well-suited to the role and her enthusiasm makes one want to dust off those old skates and hit the streets.

Drew Barrymore has assigned Ellen Page a perfect character; Ellen defines ‘Girl With Attitude’ to the point of pure awesome and thus everything about Bliss just screams Ellen. While I don’t believe Ellen Page was typecast from Juno, there are many similarities between the two characters. Characteristics that are played to perfection by Ellen Page.

Roller derby, a sport I’d never experienced in film before, provides the perfect backdrop to this coming of age tale. Drew Barrymore and Shauna Cross’s depiction of how amazing, energetic and full of adrenaline life can be in a pair of skates is absolutely wonderful. This movie is one I will cherish, and will be added to my list of films to watch when confused about the meaning of life or how to raise my kids.

Premiering at the Toronto International Film Festival in 2011 was Hick, a film directed by Derick Martini about a teenager who aimlessly drifts away from her Nebraska home. Aimlessly drifts are a common theme here because the entire film seems to follow the main characters lead. The film tried to be bizarre and off-beat but ultimately it felt more contrived than anything.

One of the first scenes in Hick is Luli McMullen (Chloe Grace Moretz) having her thirteen year old birthday party at a crappy dive bar in Nebraska. One of the birthday gifts she opens up happens to be a .45 Smith & Wesson. Afterwards her mother and father both drunkenly fight over who is driving her home but both are too drunk to do so. Instead, she gets a ride from a person who works at the bar. That is how this family operates in a nutshell.

The next morning her mother leaves with a real estate agent with Luli witnessing. After telling her father the news, he seems more upset than surprised. After he finishes his breakfast also abandons her. On a whim she gets the idea of going to Las Vegas for no other reason but there is sugar daddy potential there. And that is how the adventure starts and we have little choice to accept this as the plot.

Luli manages to find a ride from a young gentleman named Eddie Kreezer (Eddie Redmayne) but it is not long before she manages to upset him enough to kick her out. After finding shelter to sleep underneath a bridge she is awakened by a woman who pulled over from the highway to urinate, nearly on her. Somehow she convinces the woman to give her a ride.

The woman’s name is Glenda (Blake Lively) who seems to be exactly like Luli in 30 years. Within the first few minutes of meeting each other Glenda offers cocaine to Luli. Her thought process is that Luli will probably doing it with her friends sometime soon anyways so why not let her try it now.

The two stop at a convenience store and form a plan to rob it. Both feeding of each other’s similar personalities, they are a dangerous combination. If there were related they would be a twisted mother and daughter version of Bonnie and Clyde.

It turns out that Eddie, who first picked Luli up for a ride, knows Glenda. Glenda is in some sort of relationship with Eddie’s boss and for no good reason Eddie is put in charge of looking after Luli. Eddie seems to have a sexual connection with Luli that soon becomes dangerous.

I have little doubt that the novel this film was adapted for would be more intriguing then it’s film counterpart. This is one of those cases where the book most likely did not translate well to film, although I have to speculate because I have not read the novel. I felt like the characters in Hick were not developed well enough as they could have and the film only skimmed the subject matters they encounter.

The best part about the film is the performance by Chloe Grace Moretz. She is a fearless teenager who waves guns around like they are nothing and snorts coke when given the chance. She has played in roles ranging from Kick-Ass to Let Me In to Hugo but probably never has had as much on-screen face time as this. When most of the other actors seem to overplay their characters she was the least offender.

What annoyed me the most is when Luli suddenly shows that she does have normal human emotions when she for some reason is mad when Glenda leaves her. She did not seem to bat an eye when her mother did the same thing at the beginning. Now granted, her mother did not seem to care much for her so maybe she saw Glenda as a role model to look up to. But why? Maybe she wanted to believe Glenda was a better person than she really was. Again, lack of character development.

There is more than one scene that will leave you scratching your head. I appreciated the strangeness that was found in the scenes but so many of them felt forced. They really did not seem to fit in or were not needed at all.

To use the film’s own words, Hick is not “worth of note”. The big problem is the film never hooks the viewer in from the beginning. So the story arc never seemed to peak because it never really began. The underdeveloped characters make it nearly impossible to sympathize with them, making you wonder what the film was trying to accomplish.