This is the perfect definition of what a 5/10 movie is.

Without delving into the strange flow of the editing area (many scenes felt abruptly interrupted or strangely extended, creating awkward temporary spaces with a sense of unjustification), and acknowledging the good level of performance (which with a cast like the one in this film, it's not a surprise: Bale and Riseborough were particularly good), the film seems to be failing in its fundamentals: telling a self-sufficient story in a way that connects with the viewer and, above all, reveals its substance and significance. But the result is a kind of Hollywood-commissioned pamphlet collage that, while it strives to be original and "artsy" and meaningful, it doesn't get to cross the boundaries of the naive, almost offensively condescending (it's sometimes too much, but too much evident) and trivial.

Aesthetically it's fine, but the fundamental, the story, seems to be prey of this era.