about a woman, Chris Kraus, a flailing indie filmmaker just pushing forty, who is obsessed with a man, Dick. In the book, Dick is an English cultural critic who teaches in California and makes bad video art. In the show, Dick is a famous American artist who makes massive phallic sculptures and runs an institute for artists and writers in Marfa, Texas. Chris is married to Sylvère, fifteen years her senior, in the book a French scholar of the Holocaust just finishing a sabbatical year spent at Dick’s university, in the show an American scholar of the Holocaust with an inexplicable French name who wins a fellowship to Dick’s institute. The marriage has lately been sexless, until Chris’s crush on Dick floods her with fresh lust. She begins to write Dick long, intimate letters: part journal entries, part billets-doux, part critical manifesto about women and women’s art, ideas, frustration, and desire.

I'm speechless.

I have no speech.

My aesthetics are so corny and old school, I’ll need to re-evaluate my whole outlook on 21st century.

Who will volunteer to watch this and report?