Sweet Angel Mine

Nova Scotia, the present day: Paul (Milburne), a young Englishman on a motorbike, goes out to the woods where his dad once disappeared, and gets a jolly surprise. In an isolated farmhouse on the edge of the water, he comes across a lone family of women - daughter, mother, grandmother - silently stewing in their juices. He takes a shine to the young one (Langrick) - and maybe her mum (Watson) - and won't go away when they tell him to. Big mistake. Obviously we wouldn't be out in this social wasteland if there weren't female repression and latent hysteria waiting to explode, and Paul waits for it; the film only once follows him away from women's cove, for a bit of far-fetched macho business in the local town. Clear as it is that something is to be revealed, the passage towards it is both wearisomely convoluted with hallucinatory intimations of gore and empty of any sensible character detail; moreover, the punch, when it comes, is hyperbolically ugly.