June 29, 2005:
Clueless reviews. People don't know how to consume a work unless it falls neatly within the categories they're used to.
Which opens an opportunity for a different kind of pop artifact. Analogy with Brian Wilson. The Beach Boys' songs have a surface of super-catchy melody with a middle layer of easy-to-follow rhythm. But in the depths there are symphonies. It's possible that Brooks was working with the same kind of intention. On the surface: romantic comedy. At a deeper layer: morality play, in which Satan (Debra) and Christ (Flor) struggle for the soul of Christina.
In the end most of the reviewers are dismissible. Disturbed by just one, which argues that nothing much seems to be wrong with Bernice, so what's the big deal. Glad I'm not that family's kid.