I left the theater with my mouth open and my mind racing to comprehend what I had just seen after watching David Wnendt’s film, Wetlands. This is by no means a movie for the family to sit down and watch on a Sunday night. In fact, it may be so unholy that it shouldn’t be played on Sunday at all. The film couldn’t go five minutes without the audience shuddering in a flurry of emotion. I don’t have a sensitive stomach at all and even I was fighting my body’s reflex to gag at times. But in all its un-holiness, its gruesome subject, its visceral imagery, it is actually a pretty fantastic film.