They're really milking Cillian Murphy's face card with this one.
I read the book and enjoyed it. There was a coziness to it that I don't think translated here. I thought Cillian Murphy was really overacting, which is damning when like 45% of the movie is shots of his profile, and that the score was too intense at times. It was as if Bill Furlong could not look at literally anything without feeling a deep sense of trauma. And yet, it was kind of boring. Read the novella, it's just as short.
