Dear Hollywood,
You are no longer allowed to spend hundreds, or even tens, of millions
of dollars on a third or higher numbered film in a series of high-
grossing blockbusters. You have demonstrated total incompetence too many
times.
Instead, you will henceforth simply give me half that money, in return
for which I will take a big fat orange crayon in my left fist, a big
fat blue crayon in my right, and draw you a seven panel cartoon strip
that is far more logically coherent, more emotionally satisfying, and
more true to the mythic sources you thought you might use.
That is all.