This dirty little piece of Texas pulp rides the fine line of art of trash with brilliant composure as its dark script teases you with how far it'll go. The seed is planted when an everyman kills an intruder in his home, and the story spins wildly out of control from there. The story moves forward at a brisk pace and never looks back. Sure that means there are as many holes as there are unanswered questions, but such is the case with pulp. You gotta live in the now, man. In the end, I'm still not sure how to process what I've seen, and I've gained no further insight or knowledge about myself, the world, or humanity. And I wouldn't have it any other way
Review of Cold in July
