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That was an excellent one.

It really made me laugh, but for some moments I was tearing up because I could relate so much.

Like the great film, it's made with a great deal of visible affection both in front of and behind the camera.

It is an exhilarating, distressing, funny and profound film, with one of the more memorable film scores in years,

Travis (Mark Leonard Winter) is a psychologist who treats patients. He became too close to patient Rachel (Kate Cheel) who tried to walk on air. Feeling guilty he resorts to addictive pain killers, and ends up in a group run by Father Jay (Steve Le Marquand). He is attracted to Grace (Tilda Cobham-Hervey) who helps out. The group is run like a boot camp and a cult, as Father Jay treats the soul for the physical addiction. Travis has flashbacks to his painful times with Rachel and how he may have "pushed" her over the edge...figuratively speaking. About an hour into the film Travis has an epiphany which changes the direction of the film and in a way waking it up, unfortunately it was too little too late.Film was pretty boring. You might want to take a pain killer to watch it. While addiction was part of the story, it doesn't really deal with the topic, it just uses it to weave a tale.Guide: F-bomb, brief oral sex. No nudity.

After the loss of one of his patients, a psychiatrist, Travis, collapses and loses his way. This movie handles a very difficult and delicate subject, often underestimated. How to help others when you are lost yourself? How to accept your own weaknesses when your role is to lead the way? How to face your patients' breakdown when it is a reflection of your own failure?The photography feels intimate and authentic, far away from big budget Hollywood movies, which is somewhat refreshing. It is a stirring movie all round, juggling with suspense, confusion, misunderstanding and characters dualities. Get ready for a gripping and exciting ride and prepare yourself for redemption. Comedy lovers, pass your way! There are some tough scenes that stir up dark feelings at times.If I have one minor grievance, it would be the ending. With all the effort and personal revelations Travis goes through along the story, I had imagined another path for his salvation. Also, the pace was somewhat slow at times, but probably necessary in order to give the movie such an uneasy ambiance.

I swear I didn't dose off at in the first 45 minutes of this film, but it really seemed as though there were big gaping holes in the story. Really got tired of these tedious cult people forcing him to drink some gunk which he invariably upchucks. The story inched along, didn't pick up pace and left me feeling as though I was standing on a dark corner waiting for a ride at 3am. Would not recommend to anyone. Another of many Superchillin offerings that tout better than a 7.2 stars on IMDb, but when I actually come here, find it's a good 2 stars lower rated. 3 reviews are not a wide enough base to feasibly rate a film. The producer, director and main character could have logged on and given it rave reviews, but this was nothing close to the quality or content I would expect from a 7.2 star movie.

It's an unwelcome responsibility to be the only one to write about this bubble from the swamp of fringe Australian production in which the hopes of a cross section of the country's film making talent are obviously emotionally invested. It has one great idea, the broken character absorbed into a cult gone bush is himself a therapist, which gives him some understanding of what is happening.However if we are going to tackle this film on the level of high seriousness, which it clearly would like, note absence of religion which is the back bone of pretty well all such operations and the objection that sudden sodomy is not the central evil that makes them destructive.The grainy images assembled in jagged discontinuity take a while to lose conviction and there are moments which engage - Winter's self dismissal, Le Marquand's Iraq monologue, the swinging at the punching bag routine. However on a single viewing there is no feeling that there is some great truth buried by the production's excessive length.