Review: The Drowning, 2017, dir. Bette Gordon

Guys! I’m back! I made it home! I survived vacation! (TL;DR version of my vacation: We went to Vienna, Prague, Aberystwyth, and London, and now we’re all horribly jet lagged.) That means I have a whole lot of stuff to plop in your laps for your reading pleasure, and of course it would be pleasurable, wouldn’t it?

We’ll start off with The Drowning, a perfectly fine adult thriller in the vein of movies like Primal Fear; it suffers mostly from timidity, a failure to impress itself in our memories despite all of the heavy stuff it deals in. Didn’t love it. Didn’t hate it. It’s the kind of well-made oatmeal I’d be pretty happy to re-watch on a lazy weekend afternoon or on a sick day, assuming I’m ever in a place where I’m bereft of new things to watch (or old things I would prefer to re-watch). 

Paste Magazine. Clickety click. Go do it.

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