Taylor Williams

William and David Greaves’s living, breathing time capsule feels like a miracle.

For all of the film’s bursts of melodrama, its characters, like the narrative, are prone to retreating into a believable irresolution.

To put it in terms of “Grandma’s World-Famous Cookies,” the film’s stylistic confidence makes it easy to consume, but it’s ultimately half-baked.

Gail Daughtry and the Celebrity Sex Pass is basically a steady stream of gags and utter ridiculousness, and in that regard, it mostly throws softballs.

In lieu of any competently developed drama, we get a blitzkrieg of scares and gooey body horror that can best be described as arbitrary.

This surprisingly refreshing take on familiar material is unconcerned with meta discussions about where the film stands in the canon.

By the time The Invite burrows into the heart of its main characters and reveals the scope of their regrets and longings, it’s hard to argue that it doesn’t strike a chord of genuine emotion.

The film is an audaciously blunt, fever-dream portrait of religious-inspired sexual hysteria.