You know, I just can't bring myself to give a flying Wallenda about Mr. Robot. Endless stretches of pretentious boring dialogue in a big city that appears to be mostly deserted most of the time, and a drug-addled protagonist who's a self-absorbed sociopathic asshole.
I keep waiting for Bobby Ewing to poke his head out of the shower, or for the camera to pull back and show the protagonist in a straitjacket in a padded room with doctors clucking and wondering why he keeps blathering about a "Mr. Robot".
Or perhaps the makers of the show are trying to find out just how long they can lead on and defecate on a sufficiently large audience and have them like it. Please, Ernie Fosselius, do to this show what you did to Apocalypse Now; it desperately needs it.
I keep waiting for Bobby Ewing to poke his head out of the shower, or for the camera to pull back and show the protagonist in a straitjacket in a padded room with doctors clucking and wondering why he keeps blathering about a "Mr. Robot".
Or perhaps the makers of the show are trying to find out just how long they can lead on and defecate on a sufficiently large audience and have them like it. Please, Ernie Fosselius, do to this show what you did to Apocalypse Now; it desperately needs it.