John Hample

Embarrassing kitsch cop-out on all counts. Trivializes and caricatures serious issues if commitment - individual and communal - in aid of a banal and patronizing premise. One huge step backward for serious telecine art that offers to engage in complex, enduring questions about the negotiation of religious belonging and what the heart wants. The script toys with the dilemmas that can arise in this par’lous place, at times venturing and gesturing toward real-life contemporary conflict and accommodation. Ultimately, the series scurries unimaginatively back into the world of black and white choices, this time tacitly asserting that we should simply cheer when romantic love trumps religious vocation, pastoral responsibility, and solidarity with those who stick around and struggle for change in traditional values and customs. How facile: how disappointing.

An ugly, gratuitously brutal, sophomoric, and Insultingly pretentious piece of dogshit. It pretends to take a moral high road against what the culture industry does to women and their aging bodies, but consistently betrays its own prurient glee in la Ashly ripping, maiming, torturing, and disrespecting those bodies and the humans who occupy them. Next hardest if all by me is to watch two marvellous actors - an old favourite Dennis Quaid, .and a new favourite Margaret Qualley - legitimizing this silly mess. Made me feel like I had been puked on for two hours straight.