Trunkfish

... with a sex partner the likes of a Jessica Dawn Willis, if you're having problems in the bedroom, 99 out of a 100 problem's you, and you're in dire need of a shrink (or Viagra, or both)

... acting comically can be difficult, in this movie they both are making looking at them difficult... nothing's funny or enjoyable watching, and for the entire time you just want it to be over

... rated little over a four on IMDb, that's about right... so Trunkfish wasn't to work for her, really would like to see JDW in something else to see if it's just that she hasn't any talent, cause she is definitely alluring-appearing-otherwise.

I wouldn't call this a comedy. There some comedic parts in it but this is more in the area of tragicomedy. The performances are bit stilted but overall a good movie...

After about 37 minutes into this piece of turd, I decided I've had enough!

Is it ironic that someone decides to make a film regarding sex, and yet fail to make any scene look sexy?!?! Or for that matter, have any decent sex scenes?!?

I've seen plenty of well made indie films that have been enjoyable on rewatch, but this one will never be remembered for anything.

Bad acting, no humor (considering it's labeled as a comedy/drama) and uninteresting boring scenes makes this movie one to avoid!!

Anyone giving this a higher rating than five is more likely coming from a sus account.

(And just because the lead "actress" is good looking doesn't make the movie any better)

Every now and then, a movie comes along with a concept so promising that you can't help but root for it. Trunkfish, a 2021 release that bills itself as a mix of psychological drama and quirky dark comedy, is exactly that sort of film. Unfortunately, while the idea behind it is commendable, the execution is an uneven mess that leaves viewers scratching their heads. And while we're on the subject of head-scratching, one thing that defies all logic is the central conceit of the movie: how anyone could ever take the gorgeous, practically luminous wife character for granted.

Let's start with the basics. The story revolves around Neil (played with a surprising lack of charisma by Ben Hall), a middle-aged man in a creative rut. A marine biologist by trade, Neil becomes obsessed with the trunkfish, a peculiar species that can inflate itself as a defense mechanism. Neil sees this fish as a metaphor for human relationships-fragile, reactive, and endlessly misunderstood. His fixation leads him to alienate his stunningly beautiful wife, Grace (portrayed by Lana Devereaux, whose sheer presence single-handedly carries half the film).

The movie's central conflict is Neil's growing inability to connect with Grace, a subplot so utterly baffling that it threatens to derail the entire film. Grace isn't just attractive in the conventional sense-she's magnetic. The camera lingers on her in soft lighting as she cooks, lounges, and, in one memorable scene, dismantles a stubborn espresso machine with an effortless elegance that feels almost otherworldly. It's no exaggeration to say that she's presented as the ideal partner-intelligent, funny, supportive, and drop-dead gorgeous. So when Neil retreats into his increasingly bizarre trunkfish experiments rather than cherish his wife, it strains credulity to the breaking point.

In fact, much of the movie feels like an elaborate exercise in making the audience shout at the screen, "Why would anyone ignore her?!" Devereaux's performance is a revelation, imbuing Grace with a warmth and sensuality that makes her not only likable but also central to the audience's emotional investment in the story. The problem is that the movie doesn't seem to realize its own strengths. Instead of exploring Grace's character or giving her any agency, the narrative keeps circling back to Neil's brooding mediocrity.

Thematically, Trunkfish wants to be about existential dissatisfaction and the fragile balance of human connection. But it never fully commits to either its emotional core or its quirkier elements. The humor feels half-baked, with jokes about Neil's trunkfish obsession falling flat more often than not. At the same time, the dramatic moments feel unearned, as Neil's emotional arc is too shallow to resonate.

And yet, there are glimpses of what the movie could have been. A handful of scenes-mostly involving Grace-capture a genuine emotional depth. One standout moment sees Grace confronting Neil about his detachment, a raw and powerful monologue that reminds the audience of what's at stake. It's a shame that this energy isn't sustained throughout the film.

Visually, Trunkfish has its moments. The underwater sequences, where Neil loses himself in the world of his aquatic obsession, are beautifully shot and provide a stark contrast to the mundane domestic scenes. The cinematography does its best to elevate the material, but even stunning visuals can't save a story that feels as though it's constantly swimming in circles.

Ultimately, Trunkfish is a movie that flounders under its own ambition. The idea of using a peculiar fish as a metaphor for human relationships is clever, but the execution is muddled and frustrating. The film's saving grace-both literally and figuratively-is Lana Devereaux's magnetic performance as Grace. If nothing else, Trunkfish serves as a showcase for her talent, beauty, and undeniable screen presence.

But here's the bottom line: Trunkfish asks you to believe that someone could be indifferent to a wife as remarkable as Grace, and that's a suspension of disbelief too far for most viewers. If you're looking for a movie with an intriguing concept and a luminous lead actress, Trunkfish might be worth a watch. Just don't expect it to live up to its potential-or explain why anyone would ever take Grace for granted.

But the rest is like a 1001 tips for the sex-bored couples out there. so if you tune your vibes on with a sexy undertone you will like this. i laughed ,i smirked, i agreed alot and also disagreed alot. but youll see the sign yourself if your 20+ years marriage, and will see them then all young hunkers out there.

great acted, not one boring moment, far too much honesty and an extreme dose of deflattering dehumbled shamefullness that makes you wanna crawl into your skin in modesty of the human kind, the deanimalized sexual version of the mankind of today. the grumpy old man that still growls to my better half recommends. its tantalizing and invigorating ...and sexual.