Besides Natalie Portman’s chaotic and aggressive performance as Celeste, which is brilliant, this film had huge gaps in it. At some points, I thought I was in the middle of an arthouse version of Female Fight Club, or maybe it’s all in Celeste’s head, or maybe we’re inside the director’s fever dream. Or maybe I haven't woken up yet. What is art? Is art…ART? WTF maybe don’t watch this movie.