Snarkoleptic. Amateur critic. Professional snob. I'm relieved to know I'm not a golem.

2025
just a few inches away from perversely brilliant, a haunted house in the suburbs where the past—and perhaps the failure of the nuclear family itself—wraps its cold, cruel fingers around all the necks who walk through. Cassie Levy gives Diane an airiness that's like the stormy weather in her head, looking for consistent stream of wind past the eye, which makes her desperate confusion and ambivalence about being "better" that much more compelling. Jack Wolfe is at once felinic and…