In "Disapproval," Mihai Marza strips the iconic irreverence of Bugs Bunny down to its most visceral gesture: the lolling tongue of mockery. Through dense repetition and abstraction, Marza transforms this familiar expression into an unsettling chorus of dismissal, confrontation, and fractured identity. Rows of overlapping Bugs Bunny heads—distorted, multiplied, and decontextualized—form a jagged barrier of crimson mouths, exaggerated teeth, and limp pink tongues. The faces are reduced almost to glyphs, their individual features consumed by the swarm. They appear not as singular characters, but as a collective expression—taunting, unrelenting, and strangely exhausted. Rendered in harsh reds, bright whites, and vibrant yellows, the palette amplifies the emotional static: frustration camouflaged as humor. Above them, a lattice of dark diagonal strokes cuts through a muted sky of grey and red, suggesting a psychological atmosphere of restriction and noise. The chaotic black lines resemble both scribbles and scaffolding, invoking confinement and manic repetition—lines that build not a structure, but a trap. Below, the orange figures stretch vertically like robed bodies—rigid and ritualistic. These forms anchor the chaos above, offering a sense of order that is only superficially calm. They carry the weight of the storm of expression above, stoic in their silence while the upper half of the painting screams. The title, "Disapproval," lends sharpness to the piece’s intent. These aren't just Bugs Bunnies—they are avatars of societal judgment, cultural fatigue, and emotional dissonance. Marza retools a symbol of cartoon cleverness into a chorus of derision, capturing the moment when wit curdles into warning. With "Disapproval," Marza continues his masterful dialogue between pop culture and internal life, offering viewers not just a visual field, but a mirror of emotional multiplicity—fractured, performative, and uncomfortably familiar.