For years after Arturo’s death, Robert lived as a recluse, conspiring with David in the dark. David understood what it felt like to be modeled after his maker and his maker’s desires, only to become something far greater, lonelier, the romantic genius always looking over the precipice.
Putting aside the scurvy, wooden fingers, and telepathic seagulls, Our Flag Means Death is a show about outcasts for outcasts. It’s silly, sometimes irreverent, but brilliantly tender. It’s not just a rom-com or situational comedy; it’s a queer elegy—honoring those outcasts in history who chose to risk their lives for freedom and perhaps even love.
Showing teenagers, regardless of their identity, dealing with complex and messy situations isn’t innately a bad thing. But when these nuanced stories are only told by older cis-het creatives like Sam Levinson, they tend to become a spectacle of voyeurism
In a post #MeToo, #BlackLivesMatter world, The Many Saints of Newark feels intentionally prescient, but ultimately fails to deliver a story that challenges the racist and sexist tropes that pervade American gangster cinema.
