I really liked Charlie McDowell’s The One I Love, so imagine my disappointment when I watched The Discovery and found that it’s a pile of reluctant, hedging, self-doubting faux-spiritual feel-good nonsense. (“Feel-good” might be a stretch, but boy, the movie bends over backwards to get in as many cheap hugs as possible.) I didn’t hate it, but I came very close. It certainly isn’t good. Per custom, I did a thing about it for Paste Magazine, which you will hopefully be kind enough to read.
A Constant Visual Feast 