Peter Labuza’s review published on Letterboxd :
Anxieties and desires
Played along the skin.
Solving its stanzas
With a drug kick.
Originally thought I was going to go long on this, but so hacky and ultimately pointless that this is all it really deserves. Almost hints at a Rhomerian sensibility in a few of the frames, but Shelton’s camera work and the underpinnings of her script are so tediously obvious that’s hard to argue for much of anything being worked out here. Tantalizes with energy focus and a fantasy metaphor that might seem interesting, but the point of it all (he needs to open up, she needs to let go) is lacking in any specificity or even personal stakes. Comic scenes and moments are still Shelton’s forte, as well as her ability to bring out The Rosemarie DeWitt Show (Trademark TBA), who continues to prove herself an actress that understands the delicacy of a pause or the importance of how to turn an eye or change the direction of the side of her lips. But there’s no less than four montages in this movie, and the last twenty minutes are so horrifically undercooked and underdeveloped (it actually solves both its character dilemmas by them taking ecstasy, which perhaps defines lazy writing), while also wrapping things up in complete bullshit terms, that I’m afraid to revisit whatever I enjoyed in Your Sister’s Sister again. I was surprised to find viewing buddy Andrew Schenker liked this, who made a case for its melancholic, sort of spiritual tone, but what’s the point when its all in service of an ultimately hollow characters?