Communication breakdown...
It's always the same.

Suffocated by the city, states of statis, and even the cinematic frame, people are playing their parts (and others), unable to say what they mean or mean what they say. A violent interuption shatters the facade and even the film itself.

Keep The Lights On is slightly cinematically stale, but a very effective and affecting self-audit of one's past; a tumor ripped from its creator's memory.

If I hear the term "post-gay" one more time...

Lifetime movie as art film. Tilda can only gape so much. Give her a break. Something to be said about emotional, psychic connections between mother and son, just not in this film.