True story: I choke up during the “something new, something old, something borrowed, something blue” speech, and have never been able to watch “The Angels Take Manhattan” because I don’t want to see Eleven say goodbye to them, torn apart.

That speech. Holy crap. There comes a moment in Smith’s run where he just gets his incarnation of the character - the old man with a young face, both optimist and jaded. It’s amazing.

Okay, listen: this is one of those situations where “Death of the Author” comes into play for me. I respect George Miller, I respect him a whole hell of a lot after miraculously giving us this movie against all sense and Hollywood logic that should have prevented its existence. However, half the fun of Mad Max: Fury…