UW-Madison Film PhD student, one-time Jeopardy champ, jaunty Arkansas gentleman, the unholy spawn of Jay Sherman and Martin Prince.
I just don't know, man. This hyperactive mash-up of The Wachowskis, Stephen Chow, Rick and Morty, Douglas Adams, Wong Kar-Wai(?), Ratatouille (??), and a hundred other disparate influences aims for a sort of post-postmodern new sincerity Zoomer "right in the feelings" parable about how moms who don't hug enough are doing the best they can, but it all becomes rather numbing and exhausting, and it's not helped by a sense of humor that doesn't even rise to the level of…
A legitimately dreadful first hour gives way to a pretty wild second hour that actually lets loose. At times a totally by the numbers affair with one of the MCU’s most underbaked scripts, at other times a Herculean effort by an idiosyncratic stylist to assert his personality. Maybe it’ll smooth out on rewatch, but the spectacular highs don’t quite make up for mountain of tedium.