William Stottor’s review published on Letterboxd:
Surprising how a pretty decent, ripe concept can be made into something so predictable and dull.
Lamb says absolutely nothing about anything. There are no intelligent commentaries on grief or nature, which would be fine if there was something else, even just a little atmosphere or some sort of horror. Even the absurdity of it all wears off surprisingly quickly.
When will directors realise that droning music and slow camerawork does not constitute good horror?