If you're hunting for an indie drama that aims for American Beauty but ends up feeling like a cheap float left too long in the sun, welcome to Trunkfish. Directed and written by John Kviklys, the film clocks in at a brisk 82 minutes. What works: its ambition and occasional glimmers of dark comedy. Some Letterboxd fans praised "very convincing lead performances" and described it as a "fine indie movie resting on lead work." But here's the catch: style over substance. The wife is attractive and plays her role well, but her chemistry with her husband? It's like they're from different casting calls. He might remind you of a Temu-quality Steve Buscemi clone-goofy eyes, awkward charm, but no spark. Together, they come off less like a real couple and more like roommates thrown together in a Craigslist comedy. The premise dips into suburban ennui, porn obsession, fantasy therapy boxes, and a teenage neighbor, but it never surfaces into anything deeper. Instead it swims in familiar waters and fails to make waves, wrapping up more like a curiosity you'd snag at the $1 bin at Walmart. If you want edgy, uncomfortable territory-cuckolding, obsession, moral collapse-it delivers, and some viewers called it a "dark comedy cum morality tale". But it lacks the resonance of better films in the genre. Final take: Trunkfish is polite in trying, occasionally interesting in its discomfort, but far too shallow to hit the depths it seeks. Still, at a lean 82 minutes, it's not painful-just a quirky indie misfire that leaves you thinking: "Well, cheaper than therapy... and definitely cheaper than dinner and a movie.
