Angyal?

An astral trip to a dimension where the protagonists lack sympathy and the creative process lacks logic. I’m actually bothered by the new-age clowning with angels and autistic yoga aesthetics a little less than the fact that the narrative is based on shaky direction, which can't handle tension and layers everything into an initially uninteresting and ridiculous whole. It has such a shaky foundation that you almost miss the point and by the final geyser, you feel ashamed of the filmmakers. (2017.01.14)

I know that you shouldn’t judge people based on their film tastes, at least with regards to other unrelated things, but I’m pretty sure that I couldn’t be good friends with anyone very enthusiastic about this series, because they will likely be weird people who practice yoga, don’t eat meat, try to impose their annoying alternative lifestyle on everyone around, etc. :D The OA is a piece of self-important, extremely irritating, esoteric NONSENSE. Nonsense that would love to talk about everything and yet is unable to create one single character that would behave like a HUMAN BEING. So, what does it speak about? The events on planet Kvak? Or the hollowness in the brains of the authors? Probably that. (2016.12.17)

Season 1 – 100% – It is incredibly easy to take the concept of a peace-seeking protagonist and start laughing at esoteric meanings, militant vegans, and producing more simplistic humor. Because I am decently removed from such directions, I dare say that it is enough to just stop for a moment and hopefully it is clear to everyone that The OA does not tell any similarly instructional story. As someone who dislikes when something tries too hard to set itself apart from others and be extra alternative, I am glad to see that this is the exact opposite. A series full of emotions, subtle twists, and tension that becomes increasingly oppressive as the series progresses and paradoxically, even more inconspicuously presents itself. Season 2 – 90% – From the first to the last episode, I don't know what rating to give to the continuation. At the beginning, it provokes the viewer by not addressing the end of the previous season and instead piling up a heap of additional question marks. Later on, it only reluctantly connects the three plotlines to each other, occasionally winking at the viewer (pocket mini-robots), occasionally testing the viewer's endurance (Nina on stage in the club), but never backing down from the next potential step towards originality. I liked this series in no small part because it was different, and that always does it for me. But the fact is that it developed into broader frameworks and it saddens me that I can only blindly guess where it would eventually end. The bold manner in which the script slapped me in the face in the last minutes of the season, and thus the entire work, is so reprehensible and yet daring that I still have no words. Brit Marling is an even greater personality for believing that more than just a handful of devoted fans would watch such an elusive series. (2018.06.20)