If this film intended to drive the viewer to wish all its main characters dead, and then deny the viewer that wish, it is a success. If this film is intended to be anything other than an annoying piece of shit, it is an abject failure. But thatâs not to say there are no redeeming qualities in Bellflower: The sound track is flush with proper tunes, and the cinematography is slick and gorgeous. At first, you may care about the trajectory of two young men who have moved to Los Angeles from Wisconsin, and who overuse words like âawesome,â âsweet,â and âdude.â (Not actually as annoying as it sounds; the film convincingly employs the sort of unself-conscious everyday talk that people use when theyâre not reading scripts with cameras and lights pointed at them.) But for all writer/director (and lead actor!) Evan Glodel gets right, the shambolic tatters at the end of Bellflower make the ride there seem like a waste. Much is made of the dudesâ penchant for building flamethrowers and apocalypse-ready cars, but that facet of the story line is just a sideshow to what is essentially a relationship dramaâa drama in which you fall in love with these characters only to realize what shitty people they are. Then youâre left with the question âWhy should I care about what happens to these horrible pieces of shit?â Unfortunately, youâre never provided with an answer, and when the strained ending (âDid it happen or didnât it?â) finally gurgles up through the work, youâre just glad itâs over, only not nearly as glad as if theyâd all died.