brendanross’s review published on Letterboxd:
At its best, scrappy as hell. At its worst, downright silly. It also knows exactly how to convey PTSD-induced sadness and is really just the first film I've seen in a long time that feels like it smells like cheap liquor. I loved it.
Paul Schrader's Kingpin?
P.S. Is nobody going to talk about how long he held that final shot??
