Oh you very stupid film. If what you revealed were true, what kind of despair ought to follow? Heaping pails full of baneful woe. And an ugly dog trotting along beside.

Oh mind behind these lies, so far from Eden you can barely reflect a spark’s worth of light. You smother the blazing torch with a titanic effort of suppression. You lay on the trunk of love to be sure nothing beautiful escapes. You are an ungrateful son, a pitiless assassin, a plague of misdirection.

The True story is so comprehensive, a broad and brilliant view. And you have chased the peripheries into a canyon off the map. And all the crafty stories about it were lies. Misled and misleading. “Follow me to freedom,” you say. “Escape from conformity with me.” But you outfit your travelers with complex chains and tell them it is the uniform of self-actualization and they say “More chains please. Damned be our oppressors.”

Folly is your banner. Your suppositions are answerable, your incoherence decipherable as the language of lies.

No.

Autonomy is not ecstasy. Rebellion is not liberty. Order is not enemy. Truth’s not in idolatry. Treason is not fealty.

In other words: I award you zero stars. Two thumbs way down.