Am I on an unofficial quest to watch every true crime series on HBO? It seems like it at this point. I've seen just about all of them, but this series provides something I've never encountered--catharsis, even a hint of healing.
I'm surprised to see other reviews critiquing the theater performance so much. The play is the heart of the series because it creates a space in which an entire community is forced to confront the lies they've been told…
What a magical little film for the soft-hearted daydreamers of the world who get lost in their own little fantasies, who fill their homes with photos and plants and opera music, who go unnoticed for the most part because they're awkward and don't fit in, but who have so much to offer. At times, I just found myself crying for no reason as I watched this film. I guess the reason is that this film exists at all and that it gives us Polly. I saw so much of myself in her. I'm so grateful for this special film.
I've always been frustrated by films and tv shows that begin with the murder of a woman and tell us very little about who she was or what her life was like. A woman's death often catalyzes an investigation; she ends up reduced to a prop, a device to start the solving of a mystery. But, I've often asked myself: What about her?
At the heart of every murder mystery is a void--and that void is the victim herself. She…