The film feels like a car collision. There is the noir feeling of it, the grizzled ex-cop private eye, the Irish accent, the dark pool of Dublin streets and police corruption. And then there is the gay cop/husband/father drama, the #metoo story of underage girls masturbated at, the young daughter disabled by a motorcycle accident, the rigorous mask wearing. The thing is, this could have worked, but instead it felt like two discordant notes clashing. And the worst part of it all is the ending, the ridiculous "twist", if one can call it that, of which I don't want to talk for fear of spoiling the chance that you would enjoy it, but which kind of invalidates any good will one might have had toward the victims or any measure of competence you would have assigned to the main character.
I like Aidan Gillen, not just as Littlefinger, because I've seen him in a lot of things, doing good work, so that elevated the film a little. But without his charisma, this is a weird film to be watching, it feels like a whiny generation production where people go to the police for seeing a schlong and bullies are fighting back by slapping people and talking badly about gay rights. It was like a noir policier movie for kindergarten kids. The tension was there, but it just felt totally weird and delusional, like written by a teen on a phone.
Bottom line: a social justice agenda driven film that somehow didn't feel offensive, just endearing, like watching a little dog trying to trick you he didn't bite your shoes. Had potential, it went nowhere.
