Has it really been over a year since I gave a movie more than 5 stars? The last one was Crooked House, and that one comes with an asterisk, because I watched it on Netflix instead of a free channel. I might come across like a curmudgeon, but some part of me genuinely hopes to find a hidden gem on free streaming, some indie film that got an undistinguished release and deserves a wider audience. See, I'm not bitter. I'm an unwitting victim of my own doe-eyed naivety. You think I'm too hard on independent artists? Watch a few movies in the lower half of my rankings and tell me that to my face. I double dog dare you.

Which brings me to Whiskey Sour. It's not good, but it's just barely good enough that I'm disappointed it didn't cross the line.

Sean Dillingham plays Cal, a middle-aged man with a boring office job. Richard O. Ryan plays Joe, an old friend who's been out of touch for a while. Joe extends an impromptu invitation to dinner. Cal accepts, postponing a visit to his mother's house until later that evening. There's a whole lot of awkward, stilted conversation over cocktails and veal. Joe goes to the airport. Cal goes to his mother's. And that's pretty much the whole view from 10,000 feet. There's an underlying conflict that provides a bit of dramatic tension, but it's not enough to fill ninety minutes.

During dinner, Joe broaches a touchy subject. Cal seems reluctant to discuss it, but listens while Joe tells his side of the story. It involves accusations of sexual misconduct. Joe claims they're unfounded, but he's sketchy with the details. First he frames it as an innocent misunderstanding. Then he claims to be the victim of a scorned woman's pettiness. Ultimately he admits to having an affair. Between bits of relevant dialogue are a whole lot of whimsical side notes, like Joe's references to Pulp Fiction, Cal's diatribe against ranch dressing, and a rabbi who tells Cal head-scratching koans in lieu of advice.

Christopher Selby seems to have taken a fair amount of inspiration from My Dinner with Andre. About an hour of the film consists of Cal and Joe's conversation at the restaurant. The overall tone is more melodramatic here. Worse, it's also more unnatural and less engaging. There's a weird tension between the two former friends that goes unexplained for most of the movie. Without context, the tension just feels contrived.

In a movie that consists primarily of a long conversation between two people, weak dialogue is a fatal flaw. Nothing in Whiskey Sour is outright incompetent, but the thin substance fails to justify the runtime.

The final scene, after Cal arrives at his mother's house, provides a revelation that I didn't expect. Suddenly the weird tension between Cal and Joe made a lot more sense. It was almost enough to make up for the movie's shortcomings. Almost, but not quite.

5 out of 10.

Seen on Tubi.