As this story evolved, I was hooked on this captivating film.

Arty to the nth degree, splintered and, yes, fragmented

The cinematic equivalent of a hyper-pretentious, solo performance piece whose style grows tiresome before you've even finished reading the playbill.

Director Bruce McDonald splits his screen eight ways to Sunday in The Tracey Fragments, a splintered form ostensibly intended to match the psyche of his protagonist.

Unlike the frustrating gimmickry of Mike Figgis's Timecode and Hotel, McDonald's bedazzling multi-frame experiment poeticizes and enhances an otherwise slender story (forgivable at only 77 minutes long)...

Director Bruce McDonald deserves high praise for the chance he takes, here, departing from convention by experimenting with split screens for the duration of the claustrophobic psychodrama.

Ellen Page remains one of the few stellar newcomers who deserves to be seen in anything she chooses to do.

Self-indulgent and relentlessly unpleasant...

i pseytoabagkarntistiki fioritoyra poy kanei ta 77 lepta na moiazoyn 7oro, prospathei me ti dihos oysia haritomenia tis, na desei monologoys se eniaia afigisi, kai mporei na se ksegelasei otan to blepeis, alla ligo an to baleis sti seira tha akoyseis ton

Likely to overwhelm and annoy viewers hoping for Juno Part II, it is nonetheless an audacious and imaginative work that's sure to remain one of the year's best.