One of the most perceptive films I've seen in a while about performance, in part because it doesn't announce itself as such. The sense of voyeurism that one feels watching Casey during the long opening shot is smartly complicated by Schoenbrun's increasing use of images mediated by screens - the question of who is watching and who is being watched, and whether or not what they're watching is "real," is ultimately not as simple as it appears. Anna Cobb's performance is key to this, from the moment she first hesitantly and then firmly meets the camera's gaze. Schoenbrun perches the film at the edge of a seemingly boundless loneliness that is perhaps impossible to articulate, so it's a credit to them that they manage to evoke it so tangibly.