Superior

It is the film’s shaggier pleasures that leave an impression, particularly its soundtrack of ’80s electro disco and a physically shaggy ice-cream parlor manager (played by Stanley Simons) who is too stoned to notice that his new employee is two different people.

Good storytelling and fantastic acting by Alessandra and Anamari Mesa make up for any limitations of not having a million-dollar budget. Superior is worthy of your support.

I appreciated Superior’s exploration of two characters who have crafted their identity as a reflection of other people (heightened by the fact that Marian and Vivian are literally mirror images of each other). But these ideas remain relatively surface level, and they aren’t paid off in the bungled final act.

Superior feels like a John Dahl movie given a “Twin Peaks” vibe on a Hal Hartley budget, with just the odd dash of Old Hollywood thrown in for good measure, like the deliberately “Rear Window”-aping, flashbulb-popping finale.

Superior falls short of inhabiting the period within which it purports to exist.

While “Superior” has a rich style and a couple of intriguing ideas, it ultimately doesn’t add up to much, leaving you with the feeling that you’re watching an inferior homage.

Superior feels like Diet David Lynch: an unsatisfying substitute.