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Refn's ultimate non-logic effort- a batshit neon fantasy splattered by the threatening hues of colors and carnal pleasures locked up in our own private mansions. Every image is of an inviting world, and alienation still reigns, suffocating physical space throughout, a "closed set" offering both claustrophobia and freedom for the audience: sex with the lights off. Just like Sarah at the film's deco-monstrosity conclusion, Refn bit off more than he could chew, although in his case, I'd rather have…

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Setting: Marvel Board Meeting

Kevin: "And then I said, we already put in 3 end-credits scenes, how about 2 more?!?"

*eruptive laughter*

Marvel Exec #2: "You're such a card, Kevin."

Kevin: "These movies don't make themselves!"

Marvel Exec #3: "Well I mean they kinda do. That's why we installed that conveyer belt in northern Idaho and everything."

Kevin: "You got me there!"

*Meeting Room door opens*

Kevin: "Well look who it is, our crazy director intern, come in James."…