Filipe Furtado’s review published on Letterboxd :
A high point of current neoacademicism. There's strong scenes (the diner reencounter for instance) and the masculinity toughness as social construct undercurrent does give it more meat than some similar exercises. But for every well observed lived-in moment, there's also a need to swamp the material in a well-studied sensory filmmaking that makes it get unfairly closer to a third-tier festival slot-filler. When Jenkins is serious confronted here, his move seem to be retread into safe contemporary filmmaking imagery (the end is a big example of that as lousy a "poetic" cop out as it gets) . Yes, his control makes it look artier than your average Oscar nominee, but it also struck me too often as hot air that makes the good stuff gets lost in the shuffle. Maybe the stronger moments will linger above the mediocre ones with time, but one a first reaction (which is what those Letterboxd burbs are for me) it feels like a tasteful well put together curiosity.