If you believe her husband, Frances Collins used to be "an agoraphobic freak."
But Frances has decided to change all that. In the film's first few minutes, she
has begun her descent into a gritty life of drinking, smoking, and screwing. These
little "shots" of happiness become a daily ritual, an escape from her drab
telemarketing position where her dimwitted coworkers never catch on to her angel-like
secret identity. But soon we witness the often brutal repercussions of Frances' seemingly
weightless liberation, and our heroine must pay the price for her debauched escapades.
Writer/director/producer Verow's script manages some moments of sheer delight, and
Bonnie Dickenson is downright adorable in her loopy abandon. But at some point, Verow
is unable to resolve, or even keep pace with, the capers he sets in motion. By the
film's end, the narrative has too many frayed ends to weave together, and the hurried
conclusion is at best two hands thrown up in frustration. It's a dull disappointment
for a film that glimmers with so much else.
--Sarah Hepola
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