суточные щи -

Just watched "A Woman Under the Influence (1974)" with Peter Falk thanks to some God damn critical review praising it to high heaven. Sure, it is a masterpiece, a cruel and unflinching look at our personal and social warts and all.
It works worse than any horror flick, and I am disturbed, no shit.
Is it what the good cinema is for?
I seriously doubt it.
I prefer a book.
Even the darkest great book leaves you some room to breathe and think it over, walking with your head high for as long as you need to absorb it, but the great movie grabs you and forces you down on your knees within minutes.