The standard monster as metaphor, substitute as you will: grief, mental illness, abuse, trauma. This poor mother has it all, pursued and seeking refuge with her son in an isolated home far from civilization near a spectre inhabited lake. She is; of course, of sound mind and reasoning, and the increasingly menacing visitations and periods where she blanks out completely are all probably attributable to ‘the vapors’. The 1950’s aesthetic plays into themes of domestic entrapment and projection of an idealized existence behind crumbing façade. It is a film whose success hinges on multiple last-act twists, most heavily telegraphed, and the last nonsensical. The execution is good, and looks pretty, but breaks down under scrutiny. Mostly a one woman show by Christina Ricci, she is quite convincing in what is an otherwise bland and predictable script. The production values are decent, and competently directed, but this film is too derivative of better films. Unfortunate, as the creature designs and scares are decent, and there could be a better film here. The metaphors and machinations behind the last act reveal could be far more impactful if not utterly predictable. The writing is unfortunately cliche-prone, the dialogue somewhat stilted, and the mysteries far more ambitious than warranted. On the whole, some might be entertained by the performance and enjoy the twist, but ultimately this feels like an empty shade of a better film.