As the sole champion and enthusiast for the much-maligned second season, this is even harder to take.

Big disagree. I think these reviews are too critical. We’re not even halfway yet. Of course they’re not going to give away all their answers. That’s not “dragging”; that’s pacing. And the pace is similar to both previous seasons. So far this is shaping up to be the best season, especially with Saulnier at the helm.

There’s so much wrong with this review I don’t know where to begin. First of all: Toni Collette, whose acting is awful. The acting throughout this film, by every actor, is bad, bad, bad, but she’s the worst, just a screaming, sobbing, bleating klaxon of griefnoise. Ask any actor what the easiest role is, and it’s the…

Boy, is this wrong. I’d actually put off watching this film because so many people said its sense of horror is extremely potent., and that it may haunt my dreams. Well, it isn’t and it didn’t—this film is ridiculous, so laughably over-the-top it borders on self-parody. The event towards the beginning of the film…

Tire Land?!?!?!

It’s not; it’s probably the smartest film of the year. It actually has the courage to include real debate about philosophy and theology. Hawke and CtE’s final argument is terrific. I don’t know where Ignatiy got “satire” or “the stuff of cheap thrillers.”

Well, it’s more that Esther was a pest than an issue of age or attraction. More deeply, Seyfried represented a new break from the staid disappointment of the church as he knew it, which offered no solace when his son died, and which continues to compromise itself. Seyfried represents a way to reconcile his faith and…

Ignatiy mentioned it with Chekhov’s suicide vest—it’s a fundamental narrative flaw. That said, I thought the rest was so good the ending was earned, whatever it was, and didn’t feel cheated.

...but he’s still going to die, either from the (likely stage-4 or -5) cancer or from the bloodloss from the concertina wire he’s wearing. You’re not wrong—in that single moment he chose to live—but it’s much more similar to James Franco’s last moment in The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, where he glimpses a pretty girl…

Every time I see these articles I can’t help thinking of Rilo Kiley, and then imagine Jenny Lewis behaving so atrociously.

...people in this city...

“Please help”?

...her most ubiquitous single yet.

Counterpoint: “political commentary” has no inherent value, and actually has negative value when it’s as garbled, pouty, and sophomoric as it is here.

Counterpoint: The man-becomes-horse plot “twist” was a bland shrug. When you establish a narrative universe where anything is possible, everything is arbitrary, so there…

...to put it another way: Do you think anyone who wore a Big Johnson T-shirt had anything other than an absolutely colossal penis?

It’s got “big” right there in brand name! You were a husky kid after all!

Reactance.

Spoiler fucking alert, brother! I didn’t know Jesus died! I’ve only read the Old Testament!

He’s right. I’m your uncle.

Yes. I have a dishwasher and do not use it. I have it because it came with my house. I never use it as it’s a time-adding redundancy, as all dishes need to be prewashed prior to being placed in a dishwasher, and then dried thereafter. A dishwasher is a needless middleman, and contrary to this article, I don’t run the…