While dotted with isolated moments of remarkable beauty and emotional acuity, the film mostly plays like an attempt at another "Myth of the American Sleepover" (David Robert Mitchell's wonderful 2010 debut), albeit one heavily influenced by the work of David Lynch.
It's a difficult film to "get into," but I was ultimately moved by its dreamy, elliptical opacity. I'm just not sure whether it really adds up to a coherent work.
Review of Ham on Rye
