Tow

Even when her film dips into melodrama, Rose Byrne grounds her portrayal of an unhoused woman living her car in a humanity that feels detailed and true.

In less deft hands, the film could have been a clichéd affair, featuring Amanda delivering an impassioned courtroom speech that brings the judge to tears and the onlookers to a burst of applause. “Tow”’s distinct tone avoids these clichés—the film is often quite funny—turning the expected into the unexpected.

Byrne makes Amanda compelling from the first moments of “Tow,” a moving if also obviously low-budget and occasionally corny underdog story.

The movie steers into a “beat the system” narrative that packs some stirring “Erin Brockovich” energy.

It's something of a disappointment that the film, as a whole, fails to live up to Byrne's great work in it. But it's certainly not a bad film.

Tow isn't a movie that anyone will outright hate, but it squanders so much of its potential that it fails to deliver the important message that it wants to share.

By making the film about one woman (kind of) helping herself, with only vague connections to the world and the people around her, the filmmakers give up any worthwhile point about poverty, injustice, or community.