I believe Nick Cassavetes must have had some bad sushi for a couple years on the making of this one, and poured his awful mood into it. If I didn't know he directed it, I'd have thought it had been done by a 20 year-old with serious angst. You'd have to have a pretty low IQ, poor taste, or be under about 22 to like this one.
It was disjointed, unconvincing, poor direction, poor editing, and it felt like a 3 hour movie in the 120 minute run time. Coster-Waldau was especially poorly directed, so much so you'd think he was the wrong casting choice, and he probably was. Very one-dimensional. The only redeeming element to this mess was Maika Monroe, who is truly establishing herself in the art.
We watched it till the end just to see if it might redeem itself some way or another, but no. The entire film was about his daughter, and Nick forgot all about her. It was ludicrous, wooden, gratuitously violent, and not in a "Sin City" kind of way, as deep as a piece of paper, and left us feeling like we needed a shower.
Skip this one.
It was disjointed, unconvincing, poor direction, poor editing, and it felt like a 3 hour movie in the 120 minute run time. Coster-Waldau was especially poorly directed, so much so you'd think he was the wrong casting choice, and he probably was. Very one-dimensional. The only redeeming element to this mess was Maika Monroe, who is truly establishing herself in the art.
We watched it till the end just to see if it might redeem itself some way or another, but no. The entire film was about his daughter, and Nick forgot all about her. It was ludicrous, wooden, gratuitously violent, and not in a "Sin City" kind of way, as deep as a piece of paper, and left us feeling like we needed a shower.
Skip this one.