Shea’s review published on Letterboxd:
"Let's look like we like each other, and span time, and do not touch me."
I would call this nothing but a giant ego trip if it weren't so hilarious, if its ugliness weren't so welcoming, if it had ended differently. It's a weird gun-and-girl pastiche, a slice of Americana wrapped up in the idea of performance, truth and identity, and strangely tender. I hope it was therapeutic for Gallo to make this.