Not as compelling as I remember it, but still good.

A bit paint-by-numbers, especially with the jump scares, but it also hits close to (the mobile) home. I’ve never subscribed to van life or been a nomad, but I have driven across the country at times when I was more running away from the realities of life than toward them. I appreciate those themes, though I wish they’d been presented less obviously here.

The most repulsive aspect of this documentary—and there are many—is the way it consistently frames Polanski as a victim. Given that multiple other women have since accused him of similar crimes, the only valuable thing this film contributes to the discourse is the window it provides into how much the entertainment industry of 2008 thought child sexual abuse was simply no big deal. And Marina Zenovich is a good reminder that gender tokenism and the presence of more women in directors' chairs doesn't automatically create informed or ethical media on the subject of the mistreatment of women and girls.

Honestly, all jokes aside, it’s extraordinary that the man made it to 61.