a luscious parody of man abusing nature (and Eves)

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After reading admiring reviews of “Poor Things” in several leading media,
I saw the first showing in Berkeley (in the darling Elmwood district). I loved it!

The surreally comical allegory is a stellar polemic aimed at misogynistic desire to control nature and girl-women. But as cinema, it’s a delight in every mode—a masterly parody of abusive mankind.

It's a no-brainer that historically women have been regarded as imbeciles. It's a no-brainer that repressions of polite society are brainless fears. It's a no-brainer that compassion for the poor can feel pointless, but a no-brainer that generosity should be impulsive. It's a no-brainer that the world's oldest profession was forced onto women. It's a no-brainer that men sexualize girls because girls can be controlled and autonomous women cannot.

And it's a no-brainer that imaginative entertainment can draw viewers into thinking about issues of misogyny and sexual repression (which leads to sexual crime) that are as topical now as they were in the 19th century.

I should add that my sense of its critical mirrorplay—“you“ think girls and women always want sex because you, guy, do?—was affected by my having streamed, the previous evening, "Asteroid City" (William Defoe was in that, too—along with most of Hollywood). The ensemble working with Yorgos Lanthimos for "Poor Things" is in a postmodern, steampunk world that some reviewers fail to Get (one, at least).

(“And by the way, guys, a girl can take care of her want just fine without you.”)