29 November 2012 8:48 AM, PST | The Backlot | See recent The Backlot news »

Confession time, y'all: I have no idea what the f*ck is going on. This week's American Horror Story: Asylum has had the effect on my wee brain of a Jolt Cola-sponsored 48-hour horror movie marathon held in an operating steel mill. I'm no longer able to discern heroes from villains, the dead from the living, or a fake Boston accent from a real German one.

Asylum, you have finally broken me with these four simple, yet impossibly beautiful, words:

We begin with a bit of background nunsense: two smiling nursing sisters titter about Lilies of the Field as they arrive for their shift through Briarcliff's front doors. I'm half expecting them to punch a clock on the way in as a sheepdog punches himself out. ("Mornin', Sam." "Mornin', Sister.") They arrive in the medical ward, where a very grey, very sweaty Grace (Lizzie Brochere) lies barely conscious under a sheet. »

- brian

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