Richard Killiam’s review published on Letterboxd:
Miserabilism, all pretty in neon pink. This is the kind of film privileged people watch to feel good about themselves, by way of feeling bad for poor people . We empathize for them artfully, appreciating the beauty that exists in their abject world so distant from our own that our conscience feels cleaner simply having discovered it. The main protagonists of the film are the children, and by placing us in their shoes the film absolves us of responsibility for the poor choices the adults around us make.
Nothing illustrates this better than the filmmaker's very explicit choice to cut the portrayal of almost all side characters at the neck, whenever possible. It's meant to give us a sense of the viewpoint of a child, but it's mostly people outside of their social class that are either absent or forgettable: well-dressed social workers, authority figures and the 'johns' (rich tourist men with families as we later learn) that we only ever hear talking, not even seeing them at all.
I'm sounding overly harsh. The ending is clever and almost moving, and the kids are indeed masterfully directed (though I can only take loud, poorly raised children for about 30 minutes, tops). But the film's attitude rubs me the wrong way, Willem Defoe is underused, and it's also way too long.