Michael H.oarty’s review published on Letterboxd:
As an unrepentant Refn fan, I inherently hold a high tolerance for tone poem artsy neon bullshit, but I had trouble with this one. Barely distinguishable from a Black Mirror episode on a narrative level, and the tryhard flash editing/cold, detached dialogue/gore doesn't hit like it could. Tons of missed opportunities for commentary on dissociative identity and gender and the politics of corporate cyberpunk leaches-- these elements exist, but only as window dressing for an overindulgence in violence and a e s t h e t i c s that have the ol' "kid on the playground showing you some edgy shit" feel. Cronenberg Jr. knows the language, but he can't speak it in a way that leaves me with anything to hold onto.