Always Shine

As the fog closes in, so too does the foreboding, expertly tuned to fraught dissonance by director Sophia Takal, who blends art-house flourishes with such horror conventions as the spotty cellphone reception that signals trouble.

[Takal has] created two characters with distinctly different approaches to femininity, but these are hard to separate from the women's habitual self-regard.

FitzGerald and Davis are both excellent, convincingly turning the smallest, most seemingly harmless discussions into highly charged cat-and-mouse workouts.

None of this would be possible without the extraordinary performances of these two actresses.

"Always Shine" is a deft, assured movie with a sly self-reflexive undercurrent containing commentary on sexism and self-idealization that's provocative, and sometimes disturbing.

Every casual exchange becomes a lunge for dominance, and the movie keeps you flinching.

Despite good work from both its stars, and some interesting ideas, Always Shine ultimately amounts to less than the sum of its parts.

A twisty psychological thriller.

Always Shine is a gem of a film, a haunting, sobering depiction of female relationships couched within male-dominated spaces.

What's most gratifying is Levine and Sakal's ability to satisfyingly weave criticisms of the way Hollywood treats women into this tale of deteriorating female friendship.

Always Shine is a psychological thriller snuggly placed over a cutting feminist tract, like a comfy sweater.