Imagine eating a rich, dark, brick of the finest artisan fudge. The first bite you take from it is almost overpowering with flavor. The second is, while not quite as profound, still immensely satisfying. As you continue to chomp away at the fudge in rapid succession, you notice that by your seventh or eighth mouthful that much of the flavor has diminished, and that you’re chewing on a piece of creamy, masterfully crafted plaster. “Doctor Strange,” the newest entry into the increasingly omnipresent Marvel cinematic universe, is that eighth bite of fudge, a victim of overindulgence.
Because I'm Unemployed 