Normally reviewing a bad movie there's something to get your teeth into, examples of the inanity or sheer woefulness that you can chuckle about. With this though, there's nothing...it's a vapid, frustrating vacuum. There's simply nothing there. Things float briefly into sight...there's Juno Temple! There's Shaun of the Dead! Doesn't he look rough? A snotty Katy Perry style rock star drifts by...Shaun has voices in his head (mental illness, see?). Juno learns to sing a tearjerking song with the lights off because Shaun taught her to. That's it. I paid to stream this, and consider it a waste of money. Shaun and Juno have done far better work, and will again, but this is an aberration.
Review of Lost Transmissions
