Yet go to The Guardian for “catch-up critique” and comments below the line and it's like entering another world. Where everything is taken far too seriously and judged far too harshly. Where people want to showcase their erudition and exercise their critical chops. Where people seem to have forgotten how to just sit back and enjoy a story in much the same way as adults have often forfotten how to enjoy magic.
As always when I'm confused about life I look to The Big Chill for guidance.
In this greatest of all films, Nick (William Hurt) – all round fuck-up - spends the weekend staying up all night watching crap TV. Sam (Tom Berenger) his college friend/nemesis, and all round American hero, comes down to join him one night.
The TV is showing some old film noir, gangster stuff.
Sam asks “What's happening?”
Nick says, looking at an entire cast wearing hats, says: “I think the bloke in the hat did something terrible”
There's a pause.
Sam asks “Who's he?”
Nick says “You're so analytical, Sometimes you need to just let art flow over you.”
Bullets fly and a bloke in a hat falls dead through a glass window. True Detective was nearly as good as this...