For such an avant-garde expedition into the strange, the narrative feels under-baked. Young displays an evident talent for visually constructing a story, but it lacks some depth. There’s a superficiality to Margaret’s pain and how it wraps up in the end. How Margaret eventually confronts her father’s abuse, and her mother’s inability to cope with the truth and residual guilt over her sister’s death concludes in a disconcertingly inauthentic and rushed way. If you’re expecting a satisfying exploration of mental health, you’ll find disappointment.