I’d follow a man into a heist too if he told me I was good

You can tell robert eggers lowkey wanted some of denis villeneuve‘s nachos
EDIT: I don’t tend to write earnest reviews but the above alone felt very reductive and disingenuous. I thought this was such an incredible meditation on shame: how it persists, spreading like fungus until it permeates every aspect of our lives, poisoning it all and isolating us from things we depend on for our happiness. Perhaps most pertinently, the way it resists any superficial attempt to dispel it without really engaging with it and the places it spawned from. The antidote is, of course, love.