Johnson eloquently crafts what feels like his own, ongoing internal monologue that goes back and forth between the need to logically solve the existence of God or if feeling the essence in one’s soul of what God’s teachings strive to convey is the real point. How Johnson graphs this onto this radical priest (closing out a banner year for Josh Brolin) and his small but loyal congregation who each personify a type of internet personality doesn't make it instantly feel as if something's not clicking but the turning of the knife (pun intended) becomes more apparent when our "suspects" are brought to the forefront. Kerry Washington is the networker, Daryl McCormack is the influencer, Andrew Scott the conspiracy theorist, Jeremy Renner embodies the lurker – watching but rarely interacting, and then there is Cailee Spaeny who barely registers but implies to be that specific kind of social media user who posts solely for the likes, comments, and validation these signs of approval bring with them. Glenn Close gaslights the hell out of people to the point I’d hate to see what she might do on message boards while Thomas Haden Church portrays her husband, an example of toxic codependency at its best – they’re sharing one Facebook account for sure. Close nearly breaks from these molds, her Martha Delacroix carrying forth the sole purpose of keeping the corrupting evil out of wicked hands. Much like profiles on a webpage though, these individuals are easily dismissed – working more for Johnson’s objectives than developing individual personalities.
