Last night it happened, again. I willingly sat through a film that evoked such animosity, such blinding and violent hatred in myself, I couldn’t sleep afterward. I lay awake, practically steaming, trying to work out how I could find and slaughter every member of the cast and crew.
I’ve noticed that it’s become de rigueur to over-criticize everything (other than personal politics, mandates, foreign governments, or presidents not named Trump), particularly when it comes to the Sopranos prequel. People are so desperate to appear savvy and informed that they will over-analyze things, thereby nullifying the joy of discovery. You talk yourself into hating, in the futile hopes of besting the haters. You’re afraid to love something that someone else might hate.
To prove my point, I’m going to stick thoughts into your head that will make you hate your favorite things. Let’s start with The Sopranos!
I know what you’re thinking; we’re all thinking it. They dressed young Tony Soprano up to vaguely reference Chris-Chan, and they did it intentionally. It fits the timeline; filming preceded the eldritch horrors that ultimately led to prison for Chris-Chan. I don’t even want to joke about what he did, and in case you don’t know what the hell I’m talking about: I am not crazy.
My personal credentials for this review are as follows:
I don’t care what your agenda, politics, cause or reasons are. I don’t want to hear about sequels, prequels, reboots or recasts. I don’t care who’s offended, what’s offensive, or problematic, or should be cancelled.
I don’t want the following movies fucked with. Ever.
I owe you good folks an apology, I really do. This is gonna take some serious swallowing of pride, but I have to admit where I was mistaken. Here goes nothing.
Maybe someday, in some perfect future utopia where I am long dead, the vaunted generation known as “millennials” will finally experience self-awareness. Maybe they will finally uncover the reason why they are so vehemently despised by literally everyone who came before them.
It just dawned on me that I fucked up and left the writing off the CD I’m holding in the final panel. I’m literally holding a square. It could be a bathroom tile for all we know. FUCK!!!
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