“‘Dear Mr. Brody’s’ Letters Of Heartbreak”

If there’s one thing I can’t abide*, it’s the people in the world who have enough money to fix a huge chunk of everyone else’s problems – real problems, problems that impact how people live or dictate whether or not they’re able to live at all – but, like, don’t, and blow their cash on more yachts or whatever it is the ultra-wealthy buy.

Watching Dear Mr. Brody drove that home for me while also helping me realize that ultra-wealthy people who do use their money to avail the greater good are also total dicks. Admittedly: Michael Brody Jr. isn’t exactly a “dick.” I think he really wanted to help people with his money. But he didn’t. He just gave people hope and nothing more. I’m not okay with that. 

So, Dear Mr. Brody gutted me quite efficiently, as I would expect from Keith Maitland, and I will recommend you go read my review over at Paste Magazine.


*Ha ha ha, just one thing, sure.

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