Jack And Diane

For seemingly no reason called what it's called other than to subvert your expectations that a girl too can't be named “Jack”, director Bradley Gray's film about obsession and love has about 30 minutes of steam in it before it gives up hope completing what it set out to do.

Two young women, Jack (Riley Keough) and Diane (Juno Temple), meet unexpectedly while the latter is in town visiting her aunt. They form an immediate attraction to one another, and embark upon an intense relationship that becomes a new experience for each in their own way. But their affair is bittersweet, as Diane having to leave again looms heavily over them. Then there's the horror element.

Jack and Diane tries to integrate a series of larger-than-life metaphors – enter here the frequent appearances of a goopy, blood-hungry monster with big teeth – that, because of the incongruity with which they're inserted, instead have the unfortunate effect of making the implications in these sections of the film obtuse and impenetrable.

When the titular leads share their first kiss, however, it's a beautiful, perfectly executed moment of tension and release, sweetened wonderfully by the reliably ethereal Sigur Ros. So there's an understanding of the material there, and there's a very visible talent, but neither is executed with the confidence – or perhaps experience – that this difficult story requires.

Part of the Queer Film Festival, Powerhouse (finished)