Taken in yet again by Netflix’s tendency to confuse “indie” for “comedy”, and movies starring the likes of Amy Adams and Embeth Davidtz for “indie”. In this case, acceptable enough entertainment that even the ordinarily-intolerable use of phony southern accents doesn’t make it too unwatchable. City-slicker art dealer accompanies husband to visit his family in North Carolina while on a trip to secure the right to represent a possibly insane folk artist primarily characterized by obsessions with the Civil War and penises, and a totally implausible and possibly completely made-up accent.
