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‘Sharp Corner’ Review: An Against-Type Ben Foster Grounds a Familiar Slow-Burn Psychological Thriller
Jason Buxton’s suburban fable 'Sharp Corner' offers a bleak, if all too obvious, assessment of contemporary masculinity.
The comparison is apt, of course, considering how central car accidents are to this tale of an even-keeled suburbanite who becomes needlessly obsessed with stopping (or at the very least helping) the inordinate amount of crashes that happen at the treacherous corner street right in front of his new home. Led by an against-type performance from Ben Foster, this languidly paced psychological thriller about domesticity and masculinity may be handsomely mounted but ultimately strikes an all too hollow tone to land its kicker of a final shot. Sporting a fussy mustache, a balding hairline and a wardrobe as inoffensive as Josh’s own personality (he’s all khaki chinos and sky blue button downs), Foster burrows himself into a man who cannot bring himself to take up space.
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