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Another meticulously-crafted, if wilder, Benoit Blanc caper.
Why does this barely-tossed salad of 25-year-old film tropes, with no invigoration or distinct vision, even exist?
The first time Marvel (the studio) seems to care about one of its female characters.
A half-plate of warmed-up leftovers from Ragnarok.
A miracle we must protect at all costs.
Is it a satire if it talks a lot, but doesn’t say much?
Only the beautiful appearance of representation?
A round-up of breakdowns of Wes Anderson’s rich, intricate film.
The show’s true meta is its eerie, impossible, prescience.
This may simply be an excuse for director Martin Scorsese to hang out with his friend and laugh so hard he may burst. And why not?