Why, then, ’tis none to you, for there is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so. To me, it is a prison.
— Hamlet, Act II, Scene II.
Overthinking is a plague to the senses when trying to dig deeper into the cerebral sinews seeking not just the right words, but the correct feeling as it comes to a film like this shredded, bloody, and tragic tale. Just can’t help, but exercise different ways of describing how hard it can be to join the right thoughts in some of these recent posts — apologies, for but thinking, 'tis a prison indeed. O, brethren, for I hath pondered over too much for a moving canvas of nitrate or polyester. To where dost thou thoughts fly to manifest fully? Jeez Louise (wait, do they still say that?). Okay, anyways... Part of me wishes to have seen Eggers’...