Annette is iconoclastic and blunt, an emotional baseball bat waling on your heart: the love song is “we love each other so much” over and over, Henry wears green because he’s envious, and Annette is a doll because she has no agency. It’s brilliant and bold and drowning in itself, and it pulls you down with it into the murky depths of dark envious thoughts crushing everything that is or could be good with Shakespearian escalation and Draconian weight. In the end, I was moved, flummoxed, annoyed, and bored, but I felt those feelings in ways I had never experienced them before, which is, like, pretty high praise I think.