The Wolf Hour

The Wolf Hour begins to feel strangely like an allegory for the paranoid fears of white women in a world of scary Black men.

Alistair Banks Griffin's take on a young agoraphobic woman in the crescendoing height of summer, chaos flounders, yet delivers audiences with a thriller that is sure to satisfy.

... crafts an intriguing protagonist without giving her a compelling story to inhabit.

Like the sheltered loner at its center, The Wolf Hour feels jailed amongst a string of half-realized ideas, too intimidated to step outside and tackle them head-on.

It's Watts who keeps this movie interesting enough to maintain our investment, wallowing in June's sadness, fear, and anxiety...

This movie is mostly just mood-setting, with much more going on in the background than the foreground.

[Watts] deserves an A for effort in a vehicle that rates a D for dreary, desolate and depressing. The rest of The Wolf Hour deserves an F for forget it.

A sometimes punishingly theatrical experiment that teeters on the verge of surreality, transfixing us with the promise of something terrible lurking just beyond those ratty curtains.

The film is all surface, and its depiction of trauma becomes increasingly exploitative and hollow as it moves along.

A claustrophobic, theatrical, psychological thriller that brings out the best of Naomi Watts.