Concussion

In less careful hands than director Stacie Passon's, the lineup of clients could have turned into a parade of clichés. But the camera, like Abby, meets each woman on her own terms.

Perhaps aimed to be a combination of Desperate Housewives and Belle de Jour, with a lesbian twist, Concussion turns out to be surprisingly bland.

The suggestion that prostitution is a risk-free route to self-discovery for suburban soccer moms is glib bordering on offensive, but Robin Weigert is tough and terrific in the lead.

Much of the narrative may not ring true, but Weigert's performance is warm and engaging, lending not just heart, but much needed credibility.

Stacie Passon's drama is like Luis Buuel's Belle de Jour without much of the humour or surrealism.

It boasts a fantastic turn from TV veteran Robin Weigert and is visually reminiscent of Todd Haynes's Safe (it's beautiful to look at).

A crazy set-up, but this is one part screwball comedy, one part sex romp, so it works.

Writer-director Stacie Passon's debut feature is an accomplished first statement, with polished visuals, strong performances, and an ending that leaves you with a lot to chew on after leaving the theater.

In Concussion are we seeing the female gaze? Well, we're definitely seeing one woman's gaze, that of [Stacie] Passon.

David Kruta's cold-eyed cinematography does help to enhance this emotional numbness of the film.