William Brent Bell’s “Separation” is an atrocious piece of work, a movie that fails as both a domestic drama and as a horror flick, and really feels like the kind of thing that everyone involved is going to have to discuss in therapy someday to get to the bottom of why it was even made in the first place. And it’s a viciously misogynistic film that feels like the result of a drunk guy at a bar wondering if his ex-wife is so cruel that she would haunt him from beyond the grave. Critics in the ‘20s are often accused of putting political or social agendas into films that don’t really merit such a reading, but the two main female characters in “Separation” are so poorly, cruelly defined purely in context of the male lead that it’s almost like the movie is challenging people