On Becoming a God in Central Florida

Sometimes, when I’m watching Netflix, I will try the ‘just play something’ option, because there’s nothing there that I’m really burning to watch. There’s a Korean time travel action adventure which is weird and complex enough to be mildly interesting, and I’m still kind of watching The Kominski Method, but I’m not sure if I’ll follow it to the end, and I figure that randomizing things a bit can’t hurt.
Often as not, the play something option just gives me some vampire shit or another goddamned cop show, because there’s apparently ten times as many of those as any other genre, and whatever it is, I’ll be turning it off within a couple of minutes. Which is why they’ve followed up the ‘play something’ option with the ‘play something else’ option, which is sheer marketing genius.
Anyway, I tried it this afternoon and I think this time I’ve hit a winner. On Becoming a God in Central Florida is, I guess you would have to say, in the black comedy genre. That is, people have died. Well, at least one person, who died in a very comical way, and you were glad to see him go. At any rate, I was glad to see him go. The guy who got his boat firebombed is still alive, although it did kill his parrot.
Kirsten Dunst is nailing it as the widow who’s totally angry at this cult that took her husband’s life, although they didn’t really, he was just a putz who was doomed from the start, but her anger at them for stealing all their money is totally justified, and on the other hand is being drawn deeper and deeper into the cult because, apparently, manipulating people is something she is really, really fucking good at.
I’m about 4 or 5 episodes in already, just watched her totally turn the tables on the guy who’s supposed to be her mentor.