Reviews by PvtCaboose91

"Movies don't create psychos. Movies make psychos more creative!"

For horror fans, Scream should require no introduction. John Carpenter established the recognisable template for slasher films with Halloween in 1978, but Wes Craven's Scream revitalised the fading subgenre eighteen years later by introducing satire and postmodernism to supplement the chilling set pieces. After hundreds of low-budget, low-effort slasher films throughout the 1980s and early 1990s, creativity and interest in the subgenre hit an all-time low, but Scream arrived at the perfect moment to take film-goers by surprise. With a screenplay by Kevin Williamson (his first feature-film credit), Scream is simultaneously a humorous satire that wittily deconstructs horror clichés and an intense, nail-biting exercise in horror by one of the genre's most accomplished filmmakers. Despite concerns about the film's commercial viability, word of mouth propelled Scream to immense financial success over the Christmas holiday period, generating $173 million worldwide from a modest $15 million budget, resulting in a long-running franchise.

In the small town of Woodsboro, teenager Casey Becker (Drew Barrymore) and her boyfriend, Steve, are brutally murdered by a masked killer. The killer wears a "Ghostface" costume, carries a knife, and taunts their victims over the phone before carrying out the murder. Virginal teen Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell) appears to be Ghostface's next target, and there is a possible link between the killing spree and the murder of Sidney's mother, Maureen, the previous year. The murders also attract the attention of investigative journalist Gale Weathers (Courteney Cox), who wrote a book about Maureen's homicide and believes the courts convicted an innocent man for the slaying. With the body count piling up, Sidney's high school social group - including boyfriend Billy (Skeet Ulrich), spunky best friend Tatum (Rose McGowan), Tatum's boyfriend, Stu (Matthew Lillard), and keen cinephile Randy (Jamie Kennedy) - develop theories about who the killer could be, while paranoia and mistrust envelop the local community. Also on Sidney's side is Deputy Sheriff Dewey Riley (David Arquette), Tatum's goofy brother.

Although Scream's story ostensibly appears uninteresting and standard-order since it involves a serial killer and a string of teenage victims, the film's brilliance lies in the screenplay's approach to the narrative. With the film signalling its self-awareness from the beginning, Williamson's witty script satirises well-worn genre tropes and references other scary movies, from Friday the 13th, Prom Night and Halloween to Craven's own Nightmare on Elm Street. Film geek Randy frequently references horror films and the "rules" to survive a slasher movie, and he firmly believes that police could catch the Ghostface killer if only they watched the slashers filling the shelves of the video store where he works. Scream also openly mocks the slasher genre's most frustrating traditions, including sex and drugs leading to a character's death, characters saying, "I'll be right back" before being butchered, characters being oblivious to a killer approaching from behind, and victims running up the stairs instead of running out the front door. By placing these characters in the same situations that the script satirises, Craven and Williamson prove that familiar tropes are still effective with fresh ideas behind them, such as a character exclaiming, "Look behind you" at the TV while Ghostface sneaks up behind the oblivious viewer.

Slashers are generally nasty, low-budget endeavours, and their relatively low cost made them a commercially attractive proposition throughout the subgenre's '80s heyday. What separates Scream from simplistic parody movies (like Scary Movie) or cheap, low-grade slashers (like any '80s slasher) is the first-rate technical execution, as Craven stages legitimate scares and generates skin-crawling tension. Craven takes the story and the characters' fates (dead) seriously, and the characters feel like fully realised people instead of worthless knife fodder. The tension seldom relents throughout the key set pieces, and the violence is sobering and dark instead of silly or deliriously enjoyable. Craven opens Scream with a bang, orchestrating a gripping and harrowing opening sequence that stands as one of the best in the genre's history. Although it runs a full 12 minutes, Craven does not waste a single frame, as he sustains interest through the engaging dialogue and white-knuckle tension, leading to a grim end for Barrymore's Casey Becker. Since Barrymore was a major star at the time, her murder was all the more shocking and unexpected in 1996, making it clear that no character is safe from Ghostface. Although several films have spoofed this sequence in the intervening years (most notably in Scary Movie), it has lost none of its power, and it holds a coveted place in the annals of horror history alongside the shower scene in Psycho and the opening shark attack in Jaws. Patrick Lussier's superb editorial efforts significantly contribute to the movie's robust pacing and the effectiveness of the set pieces, while Marco Beltrami's original score alternates between intense and eerie, adding further power to the film's horror elements. The movie also makes memorable use of the song Red Right Hand by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, to the point that the song is now synonymous with the Scream film series.

With a mix of established actors and relative newcomers (at the time), the ensemble cast is flawless from top to bottom. In the role of Sidney Prescott, Neve Campbell (best known at the time for TV's Party of Five) is outstanding. She exhibits vulnerability and strength, two essential characteristics for portraying a slasher heroine whose life is in danger but who has what it takes to fight the killer. Alongside her is Rose McGowan, who's feisty and credible as Sidney's best friend, coming across as far more than just another hapless, big-breasted slasher victim. Meanwhile, Courteney Cox (star of TV's Friends) brings spirited life to Gale Weathers, and David Arquette is effortlessly amicable as the dopey but well-meaning and likeable Dewey. Cox and Arquette share sizzling chemistry, making it unsurprising that they later got married. Also worth mentioning is Jamie Kennedy as Randy; his charming, enthusiastic performance is among this film's biggest pleasures, ensuring his geeky spiels are believable and involving. Skeet Ulrich (who looks remarkably like Johnny Depp) and Matthew Lillard also bring meaningful life to their roles. Lillard sometimes improvised dialogue during filming, and Williamson believes his various ad-libs improved the script. Additionally, voice actor Roger L. Jackson makes a huge impression as the voice of the Ghostface killer, bringing menace to the phone conversations with his victims. Jackson actually interacted with the actors over the phone during filming but never met the actors face-to-face, enhancing the power and immediacy of these scenes.

Scream successfully mixes horror and comedic elements, delivering memorably chilling kills (the sight of Barrymore's disembowelled body remains harrowing) and witty, humorously self-aware discussions as the script dabbles in postmodernism. Craven lets Williamson's sharp writing deliver the laughs while he concentrates on precise framing and taut editing to create the scares. Despite the hard-hitting violence, Scream is also an excessively fun horror movie thanks to the screenplay, and it is a treat to behold a movie that manages to subvert expectations while remaining respectful of the audience and reverential of the genre. There is a good reason why horror aficionados continue to hold Scream in such high regard: the movie confidently stands the test of time, as its intelligence and zest never get old.

9.5/10

"Nobody does this to the United States. The President will get his baseball glove back and play catch with this guy's balls!"

Released in the summer of 1997, Air Force One arrived towards the end of the Die Hard clone era. After Die Hard flourished at the box office in 1988, studios began clamouring to replicate the film's success, leading to the birth of an entire action subgenre. Take, for instance, Speed (Die Hard on a bus), Under Siege (Die Hard on a boat), and Passenger 57 (Die Hard on a plane), among countless others. By 1997, the well had ostensibly run dry, with Die Hard clones becoming relegated to direct-to-video releases with fading stars and recycled stories. And then along came Air Force One, which showed Hollywood another way to make a Die Hard-esque action-thriller: make the John McClane archetype the President of the United States. The result is one of the greatest Die Hard clones of its decade. An unabashedly jingoistic, patriotic blockbuster, Air Force One benefits from the exceptional directorial touch of the late Wolfgang Peterson (In the Line of Fire) and an ideal cast.

Fresh off the success of a joint American-Russian mission to capture rogue world leader General Radek (Jürgen Prochnow), United States President James Marshall (Harrison Ford) delivers a controversial speech declaring that he will not negotiate with terrorists. On the flight home, Air Force One is summarily hijacked by Russian terrorists posing as reporters. Led by ultra-nationalist Ivan Korshunov (Gary Oldman), the terrorists kill several passengers and take the survivors hostage. Making contact with the American Vice President (Glenn Close) after President Marshall ostensibly leaves in the plane's escape pod, Korshunov demands Radek's release from prison and promises to execute a hostage every half an hour until his demands are met. However, Korshunov does not anticipate a determined President Marshall to secretly remain onboard the plane armed with the skill and determination to rescue his family and friends.

Even the most energetic and creative action films are likely to foster at least a vague sense of déjà vu due to the nature of the genre, as there are only so many ways to blow stuff up and stage shootouts. Thus, it is not surprising to note that elements of Air Force One are familiar, with Andrew W. Marlowe's screenplay seemingly comprised of bits and pieces from other films about terrorists, planes, hijacking, hostages, politics and cat-and-mouse chases. Thankfully, it is all perfectly palatable, thanks to Wolfgang Peterson's proficient directorial touch. Peterson uses the plane setting to terrific effect, creating a cramped, claustrophobic disposition that generates tension and danger. The shootouts are great, and the action, in general, is constantly invigorating. Intoxicating bursts of nail-biting tension are also present, such as when the terrorists embark on killing hostages, making this a skilful addition to the genre rather than something more Z-grade. From a technical perspective, Air Force One is a winner. From the lavish, intricate production design to the predominantly impressive special effects (including the miniature work that still holds up in the 21st Century) and Jerry Goldsmith's thrilling score, the film exhibits tremendous skill in its technical assembly. The sole technical drawback is that the demise of Air Force One suffers from unbelievably phoney digital effects. According to the movie's special effects supervisor, Richard Edlund, the crew spent so much time perfecting minor CGI composites for other parts of the film that insufficient time was left to execute the shots of the plane hitting the water properly.

Fortunately, Air Force One does not insult the audience. This movie receives too much unfounded criticism, as people constantly use the umbrella denigration of "it's dumb and implausible" without providing sufficient evidence. Perhaps some people are so accustomed to blatantly dumb blockbusters that they cannot recognise a comparatively smart blockbuster when they see it. It is also surprising how much plausible material is hailed as dumb. Midair gunfire is criticised, but even the real Air Force One has been specifically hardened against gunfire, and thus, the film reflects that. The premise seems implausible, too, but it is executed believably enough (though the lack of terrorist casualties during their shootout with Secret Service agents is a bit on the absurd side, granted). Heck, a former Secret Service agent even admitted there's a one-in-a-million chance that Air Force One could be hijacked. At no point is Air Force One detrimentally stupid - it just takes a few liberties. And since the film is so exciting and well-made, who cares?

In the leading role, Harrison Ford is suitably charismatic. Ford was in his action prime at the time of Air Force One, and he is probably the only star we could believe as an ass-kicking president. It is unlikely that any other performer could combine genuine acting chops, movie star charisma, and the badass disposition of the world's best action stars as effectively as Ford. The President is not portrayed as a bulletproof hero - instead, Marshall evokes the humanity that characterised Die Hard's John McClane; he is a man motivated by family and conscience who shows he bleeds, feels and panics. Marshall is also a President of honour who has a code of ethics... He is almost too good to be true. Alongside Ford, Gary Oldman brings dimensionality, menace and a believable Russian accent to the role of Ivan Korshunov. As a result, the vicious verbal battles between Oldman and Ford are almost as intense as the action scenes. Also in the cast is Glenn Close, who's effectively steely as the Vice President, and William H. Macy, who's a certifiable hoot as a loyal Air Force Major.

A highly enjoyable and intense time killer, Air Force One does not redefine the action movie, but it is a terrific genre flick that hits all the right notes and delivers where it counts. Spectacular action of the refreshing old-school variety is the order of the day here, which is topped off by a robust and likeable hero and a villain who is easy to despise. In short, Air Force One is irresistible escapist entertainment that holds up well to repeat viewings.

8.3/10

"I'll get paid for killing, and this town is full of people who deserve to die."

At once a dark comedy, an action movie and a morality play, Yojimbo is one of Akira Kurosawa's greatest and most essential motion pictures (from a filmography beset with highly regarded flicks). Though Kurosawa is such a revered cinematic giant, I imagine his films seem uninteresting and daunting for casual film-watchers since they are old, foreign, in black and white, and have subtitles. But, like most of Kurosawa's movies, these factors should not dissuade people from watching Yojimbo. Though Kurosawa is predominantly recognised for the style and the deeper meanings of his films, Yojimbo is both fun and exciting, and by no means boring. Certainly, Yojimbo is far more accessible to the mainstream crowd than the works of, say, Ingmar Bergman or Federico Fellini. Kurosawa's gift lies in expertly blending artistry with excitement. Many of his movies can be rightfully labelled as action-adventure films; an arena not often explored by "serious" directors.

Yojimbo (which translates to "Bodyguard") is the story of Sanjuro (Mifune) - a mysterious ronin; a samurai without a master. After wandering into a desolate village, Sanjuro learns that two competing crime families are violently vying for control of it; crippling local business and causing great loss of life. The entire town has all but shut down as a consequence. Despite being told he should leave, the wily samurai opts to stay in the village in order to manipulate both sides to his advantage. Playing the crime families against each other with supreme confidence, the town is soon reduced to chaos as Sanjuro works to remove the criminal elements of the town for the sake of the innocent townsfolk who are uninterested in fighting.

Yojimbo's narrative and string of events are distinctly western-esque - after all, Kurosawa always said that his writing was influenced by American westerns and pulp fiction novels. Ironically, Yojimbo proved to be influential for both Japanese and American cinema - including westerns (the film was later unofficially remade as Sergio Leone's A Fistful of Dollars). Appropriately, Yojimbo is bursting with action and adventure, but it additionally contains enough dry humour for some to perceive it as a comedy. Throughout the film, a torrent of humour is cleverly generated from the gang's desire to purchase Sanjuro's services not exactly to be victorious, but because each side is terrified of meeting his sword. Watching the crime families scramble and sweat under Sanjuro's thumb is supremely humorous. Furthermore, a lot of the understated wit is derived from the way Sanjuro openly mocks the pettiness surrounding him. On one occasion, he provides a catalyst for a battle between the two sides before finding a high vantage point and watching the skirmish unfold with amusement.

Bestowed with an honorary Oscar during his autumnal years, Kurosawa possessed a genuine gift for shot composition. Working in vivid black and white, Kurosawa and cinematographer Kazuo Miyagawa captured the desolate village with an incredible balance of contrasts; transforming what could have been an average action film into a true work of art. Consequently, Yojimbo is visually breathtaking to watch as Sanjuro trumps through the hazy streets, passing businesses and homes affected by the warfare. Kurosawa was adept at pacing, as well. Yojimbo clocks in at 110 minutes, yet not a moment feels inessential. Kurosawa understood the necessity for character development and dramatic growth; managing to fulfil these requirements without murdering the pace or skimping on the action. And despite the film's ostensible art-house disposition, heavens me the sword fights and battles are astonishing. Invoking the essence of classic westerns in the vein of John Ford for its demeanour, Yojimbo is most likely Kurosawa's most enjoyable movie.

For Yojimbo, Kurosawa utterly annihilated samurai conventions. Through the eyes of a Japanese traditionalist, Sanjuro is everything a samurai is not: poor, threadbare, self-serving (or so it seems), sarcastic, and willing to fight for anyone in exchange for money and food. Kurosawa did not merely strip away old-school samurai characteristics...he sullied them. Nonetheless, Sanjuro is the epitome of the warrior class who has all of the important characteristics in spades: he is a cunning, rational, brave, skilled ronin with a sense of personal honour and a realist's view of the world around him. The criminals believe that depriving Sanjuro of his sword will render him helpless, but failed to recognise that Sanjuro is a force to be reckoned with even without a sword. Sanjuro is frighteningly intelligent as well. Although the feuding families do not realise it, he is their friend - he just exposed their stupidity and arrogance, as well as highlighting the futility of their feud.

With his calm demeanour and with his teeth often chomping on a toothpick, Sanjuro is the living picture of cool. The late great Japanese actor Toshirô Mifune played the part, and he is sublime. Mifune carries the film with a methodical, deep gaze, not to mention his inherent cool. Kurosawa and Mifune were frequent collaborators; they enjoyed a fruitful working relationship in the '50s and '60s, and made many of their best films together. Mifune was essentially the Robert De Niro to Kurosawa's Martin Scorsese (or should that be the other way around?). Fortunately, the cast members surrounding Mifune provide great support. In particular, Mifune's strongest dramatic scenes are with Takashi Shimura as Sanjuro's confidant. Also colourful and memorable are Isuzu Yamada, Daisuke Katô and Tatsuya Nakadai in their respective roles of Orin, the buffoonish Inokichi, and the dandy gunslinger Unosuke.

Yojimbo is not among Kurosawa's most thematically accomplished or narratively complex works, nor does it cause viewers to ponder issues. Nevertheless, it is certainly one of the filmmaker's most visually ravishing, exciting and enjoyable efforts, even if it is marred by a terribly overwrought musical score. Its excellence has even inspired two remakes to date: Sergio Leone's Spaghetti Western A Fistful of Dollars with Clint Eastwood in 1964, and Walter Hill's Last Man Standing with Bruce Willis in 1995. Neither are as brilliant as Yojimbo, which remains so original and funny; standing as a classic in the annals of filmmaking.

9.0/10

"We've been completely wasting our potential. This city needs our help. We could be heroes! We will pose as villains to get close to the bad guys. That way, no one will suspect we're really the good guys."

The origins of The Green Hornet date back to 1930s radio serials created by George W. Trendle. The Lone Ranger was another Trendle creation, and with the Green Hornet he aimed to bring the iconic character into a modern setting. To this day, the franchise is best known for its shortest-lived incarnation: a 1960s TV show cancelled after its first season which is renowned for introducing the world to Bruce Lee and his unparalleled martial arts prowess. And now, decades on, we have 2011's The Green Hornet. However, this first big-screen feature film incarnation of the character isn't overly interested in the character's history - rather, it's interested in providing a fun time. The basic premise behind the franchise is retained, but the script - penned by Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg - simply tweaks the average superhero story in order to suit Rogen's usual screen persona. Purists will likely cry over the changes, but those wanting an enjoyable romp should be pleased by this stylish, glossy blockbuster.

After being raised by his harsh newspaper magnate of a father (Wilkinson), Britt Reid (Rogen) has become a lazy, spoiled playboy who parties hard but is incapable of getting his life in order. When his father dies of an allergic reaction to a bee sting, Britt inherits his father's newspaper business but has no idea how to run it. However, he soon finds comfort in a skilled associate named Kato (Chou). It isn't long before Britt and Kato are involved in an act of accidental valour. Labelling himself the Green Hornet, Britt decides to take to the superhero game, relying on Kato's ingenious inventions and martial arts skills to see him through. Additionally, Britt's idea is to fight crime by using his newspaper to trick the general public into perceiving his mysterious alter ego as a notorious criminal. However, their behaviour disturbs oversensitive crime kingpin Chudnofsky (Waltz), who is unenthusiastic about the notion of handing Los Angeles over to a pair of amateur crime fighters.

Despite its humble origins, Hollywood has been trying to turn The Green Hornet into a modern blockbuster franchise since the '90s, with people like Kevin Smith, Jet Li, and George Clooney all having been attached one at stage. It's doubtful anyone imagined the script would ultimately be written as an action-comedy by Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg, who also scripted The Pineapple Express and Superbad. While action-comedies are normally welcome, perhaps the main fault of The Green Hornet is that as a comedy it's rather lacklustre. There are only a few hearty laughs to be had, and some of the tonal changes are jarring. For instance, light-hearted laughs are followed by a long, awkward, uncomfortable set-piece spotlighting an over-the-top brawl between Kato and Britt. In all likelihood, the film would have fared better as a straight action flick with a few one-liners. After all, the action aspect is much more enjoyable. Also, the film is unavoidably mainstream and in no way daring, rendering it somewhat unremarkable.

Curiously, the directorial duties for The Green Hornet were handed to French filmmaker Michel Gondry, who is best known for whimsical art-house films (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, The Science of Sleep). It was an unconventional decision, yet it paid off - Gondry's filmmaking style is a huge asset. Gondry managed to put his own distinctive visual stamp on the established superhero genre without eschewing the studio-favourite blockbuster demeanour. The Green Hornet is packed with fun gadgets and exceptional visual effects, while the action set-pieces were handled with exceptional skill and top-notch visual flair. The film's most "Gondry-esque" aspect is the use of "Kato-Vision", which allows the audience to see Kato's mind's eye during the fights. Slow and fast motion is used simultaneously, and we see Kato zeroing in on critical attack points as he swiftly charts out his strategy. Furthermore, in one scene there is an astonishingly creative use of split-screens and picture-in-picture which reinvigorates the art of montage. Unfortunately, The Green Hornet was converted to 3-D in post-production, but the only plausible explanation for the 3-D release is greed. Any gain to the viewer is negligible, but the increase in revenue from surcharges is quite significant.

Rogen may have co-written the script with himself in mind as Britt Reid, but the actor is miscast. A star of limited acting range, Rogen never tried to step outside of his comfort zone - there is no attempt to bring out a character; instead, the Green Hornet is simply Seth Rogen in a mask without the hard-to-nail necessity of charm. Luckily, Jay Chou fares better as Kato. His English is rough, but he has charisma. Despite the role of Kato demanding more physicality than acting ability, Chou has an amiable screen presence, which is important. Unfortunately, he and Rogen do not share much chemistry. There is some chemistry, but not the scintillating type. Meanwhile, in his first role since his Oscar-winning turn in 2009's Inglourious Basterds, Christoph Waltz is simply marvellous as Chudnofsky. James Franco also appears in an unbilled one-scene cameo. Despite his limited screen-time, Franco steals the movie from everyone else as a smart-mouthed club-owner-come-drug-dealer who verbally slaughters Chudnofsky. Franco is hilarious in the part; giving the film a spark of infectious energy and effortless humour lacking from other character interaction.

In spite of its scripting flaws, the majority of The Green Hornet works. Moments of brilliance are present throughout, and the action scenes are extraordinary. In fact, the last half an hour of the film provides some spectacular carnage culminating in a climactic battle royale within Britt's newspaper headquarters that's slick and exhilarating; far better than a lot of action witnessed in other big-budget action films which have tarnished multiplexes over the past few years. The flick is not quite memorable or strong enough to launch a new franchise, but The Green Hornet is a fun ride. It's certainly not the disaster that most critics made it out to be.

6.8/10

An unexplainable, avant-garde experimental surrealistic curio, Un Chien Andalou was born from a collaboration of filmmaker Luis Buñuel and surreal Spanish artist Salvador Dalí. To this day, the jarring narrative form of Un Chien Andalou makes this picture as much a staple in film studies classes as Citizen Kane, and it has proved very influential to filmmakers over the years (David Lynch, anyone?). It's also a supremely weird creation, as this is an exercise in piling woozy visuals atop one another in a 16-minute cinematic collage disobeying logic and reason. Perhaps it's not the masterpiece some have claimed it to be, but Un Chien Andalou is at once elusive and compelling; a creative exploration of the boundaries of the cinematic medium.

Un Chien Andalou (which translates to An Andalusian Dog) commences with the title card "Once upon a time...". A man is subsequently seen smoking a cigarette while whetting his straight razor. On his balcony, he sees a thin cloud approaching the moon, and proceeds to slice open a woman's pupil with his razor. Why does this happen? Beats me. Virtually every scene in the film defies explanation. To this day, the image of the sliced eye is what people remember most about Un Chien Andalou. It's such a visceral image despite the film's ancient origins, and it can still shock a 21st Century audience. On the topic of the film, Luis Buñuel's son has reportedly noted that it was his father's intention to repulse, shock, and compel viewers to reconsider their viewing habits.

The sliced eye gives way to another title - "Eight years later" - and what seems to be the start of the narrative proper. However, this allusion is swiftly shattered. Un Chien Andalou at no point surrenders to a conventional narrative structure - nor, for that matter, does it provide evidence of a coherent narrative. The film nonsensically rejects cause and effect, as well as the concept of linear time. The titles reflect this, as the film bounces around from "Sixteen years earlier" to "Around 3 in the morning." All of the aggressively disconnected images and sequences are entirely open for interpretation. Boring scholars could probably probe the film for some type of deeper meaning, but this spoils the fun. If you let yourself roll with the punches, you will find Un Chien Andalou to be the most surreal dream sequence ever - perhaps the most admirable filmic representation of what dreams are truly like. And this is precisely what Dalí and Buñuel were shooting for. After all, Un Chien Andalou was born out of a collection of dreams which were recalled by Dalí and Buñuel. This is perhaps the only thing about the film which makes sense.

It is indeed difficult to review a film like Un Chien Andalou for the typical mainstream film-goer. Suffice it to say, this is a motion picture you can admire and analyse, but not exactly enjoy - it's a historical curiosity, not an entertaining time at the flicks. For all its influential surrealism and visual bravado, it never engages on an emotional level. Mind-fuck films are almost always like this; exchanging warmth and emotion for bewilderment. Un Chien Andalou is an often hypnotic, shocking display of surrealism, yet it's still cold. It's doubtful you will want to watch it more than once. It's precisely what Dalí and Buñuel aspired to make, granted, but it won't work for everyone due to its unique demeanour.

7.9/10

"At fourteen forty six pacific standard time, twelve different locations across the globe were breached in what appears to have been a coordinated attack by an unknown enemy. This is a textbook military invasion. We are the last offensive force on the west coast. We cannot lose Los Angeles."

A more suitable title for Battle: Los Angeles would be Battle to Stay Awake. A meandering, often tedious instance of blockbuster filmmaking, Battle: Los Angeles appears to have been designed as either a military recruitment video or the ultimate home theatre system "demo disc" (or both). At its most basic level, this is a wearying display of shaky-cam mayhem featuring a cast of cardboard cut-outs; a film eager to go wild with money shots but is negligent in terms of providing a reason to care. Roger Ebert said it best in his hilarious review: "Young men: If you attend this crap with friends who admire it, tactfully inform them they are idiots. Young women: If your date likes this movie, tell him you've been thinking it over, and you think you should consider spending some time apart."

Adhering faithfully to formula, the film commences as cities around the globe become inundated by meteor showers. The meteors are not regular meteors, however, but alien machinery. It isn't long before spacecrafts and aliens begin obliterating global cities with the palpable goal in mind of exterminating human life and colonising the planet. With the invasion intensifying, a Marine squad heads into Santa Monica to evacuate the city before blasting it to oblivion in an attempt to halt the advancing alien activity. Leading the charge is Staff Sergeant Michael Nantz (Eckhart), who is called back into duty after a harrowing tour of Afghanistan. Storming the city with all guns blazing, Nantz's platoon encounters numerous alien warriors and aircrafts armed with superior firepower. Raising the stakes is their discovery of a group of civilians, whom they vow to protect and lead to safety.

Battle: Los Angeles's script was credited to Christopher Bertolini, but it is unclear what exactly he was responsible for. The film is literally two hours of interchangeable, forgettable faces shouting at each other, shooting things, blowing shit up and getting killed. The dialogue is almost entirely made up of people shouting "Watch out!", "Get down!", "Move!", "Fire!", and the derivatives of these screams. The soldiers are one-dimensional stereotypes, and the civilians are bland. The only thing telling us we should care when a character dies is the overbearing music. Once the titular battle gets underway, the soldiers are reduced to random, indecipherable figures without defining characteristics who shoot guns and wear battle fatigues (except Eckhart and Michelle Rodriguez, but only because they are recognisable stars). For fuck's sake, when it came time to assemble a cast list for this review, I did not know who to bill first beyond Eckhart and Rodriguez! All the best action/war movies develop their characters in the heat of battle. Take Black Hawk Down, for instance. Nobody behind Battle: Los Angeles was talented enough to pull this off. Though, credit where credit is due, the actors do seem to try to do something substantive with their underwritten roles, rather than sleepwalking their way through the film for the sake of their paycheques.

There are very few L.A. landmarks to be seen throughout the film, reducing Battle: Los Angeles to a repetitive barrage of sequences depicting soldiers firing weapons in nondescript streets and walking around dank, desolate buildings. Unfortunately, the cinematography is frequently shaky to the point of nauseating - it's as if the cameraman is always wandering around bumping into things. Sure, director Jonathan Liebesman at times delivers in terms of action, and there are a few spectacular money shots thanks to some solid special effects. But there's never any awe to the apocalyptic events - the film feels like a pedestrian video game rather than a harrowing war film. Furthermore, armed with the studio-favourite PG-13 rating, the film fails to deliver on a visceral level. People and aliens are killed, but there is no blood. Hardcore soldiers are thrown into harsh conditions, but never swear. The whole project feels gutless due to this. Worse, Battle: Los Angeles is the kind of action movie which ends with the heroes defeating the enemy by blowing up one magical thing. The climax feels tacked-on and forced, as if the writer realised the film needed to end very soon and sought a fast, easy way out. This denotes another problem - the script rushes from plot point to plot point, making every narrative twist and turn seem convenient and contrived.

I love a good action movie as much as the next guy, and I acknowledge that not every action film needs to have well-developed characters. However, Battle: Los Angeles is an incessant sensory assault which becomes tiresome due to a distinct lack of humanity, personality, variety and humour. It has its moments and the production values are faultless, but these qualities are wasted on a film not worth caring about. Battle: Los Angeles is an alien invasion picture as generic as its title, flaunting a bunch of generic actors playing generic roles fighting generic aliens in generic settings in generic ways. If you want to see an alien invasion story with more interest in humanity, see Spielberg's War of the Worlds. If you're seeking an invasion story executed with personality and inventiveness, watch District 9. The existence of these well-known blockbusters renders such a standard film as Battle: Los Angeles rather obsolete.

4.1/10

"Thor, Odin's Son, through your arrogance and stupidity, you have opened these peaceful realms and innocent lives to the horror and devastation of war..."

By serving as an origin story for Marvel's God of Thunder, Thor denotes the next step in Marvel's superhero world-building effort leading up to 2012's The Avengers. Admittedly, the outlook for Thor was never overwhelmingly positive - the title role was given to little-known Aussie beefcake Chris Hemsworth (a soap star glimpsed oh-so-briefly in 2009's Star Trek), and the director's chair was allotted to Kenneth Branagh, who had never been near a big-budget spectacle in his career. Nonetheless, the film denotes another home run for Marvel - it's easily one of the best, if not the best Marvel feature to date. Hemsworth is truly an excellent find, while Branagh's directorial dexterity belies his inexperience with action extravaganzas. The first of four superhero movies to arrive during the 2011 summer season, Thor is a highly entertaining, assured masterpiece which kicks things off in style.

Following an ancient war, the denizens of Asgard develop a tentative peace with the Frost Giants of Jotunheim. However, on the day of Thor's (Hemsworth) ascension to the throne of Asgard, a group of Frost Giants breach Asgard's defences. In response to this, the hot-headed Thor mounts an assault on the home-world of the Frost Giants; an act which threatens war between the two realms. Due to his disobedience, Thor's father Odin (Hopkins) banishes Thor to Earth, leaving Thor's brother Loki (Hiddleston) to seize power of Asgard. After being dropped into New Mexico, Thor meets astrophysicist Jane Foster (Portman) and her colleagues. Stripped of his powers, his hammer and everything he holds dear, Thor is compelled to learn what it takes to be a true hero in order to reclaim his hammer and the throne of Asgard.

From the epic prologue to the climactic action sequences, Thor is brimming with excitement and solid, confident storytelling. The fanboys concerned that this is a Thor film in name only can rest easy - this is ultimately a story about what's at stake in Asgard. The uninitiated can also rest easy, as there's enough leeway for the newcomers to find their footing. What's most commendable about Thor is that it is not a proverbial origins tale which adheres to the standard template, but instead something fresher and more imaginative. Origin tale clichés are usually eschewed, while the rare conventional situations fulfil their purpose magnificently rather than feeling familiar and cringe-worthy. (Take, for instance, the "hero is thought to be dead but comes back with a vengeance" scene - it was handled exceptionally well, yielding a badass set-piece). When Thor arrives on Earth, there are amusing moments and comical fish-out-of-water antics as the God of Thunder adjusts to life as a mortal in a different culture. The culture clashes generate some of the film's best moments. Thankfully, the smart script does not dwell upon these comic moments, nor does it take Thor as a fool - he "gets it" quickly.

Thor transpires in three worlds: Earth, Asgard and Jotunheim, each of which possesses a unique aesthetic and identity. Fortunately, Branagh and his crew worked to create worlds that look and feel real, and it paid off. All of the more fantastical moments throughout the film are perfectly grounded; ensuring that nothing feels silly or bloated. Furthermore, Thor is a home run in terms of technical achievements, from the luscious production design to the bravura visual effects to Patrick Doyle's immersive score. The action, too, is magnificent. An exhilarating, pulse-pounding sequence depicting a skirmish between Thor's band of friends and a bunch of Frost Giants has got to be in the running for best action sequence of 2011. Rather than feeling like CGI overload, Thor is imbued with nail-biting tension. Happily, this quality is retained throughout. Branagh is also of a more classical brand of filmmakers; he and his crew captured the action with inventive, fluid cinematography, without excessive shaky-cam or quick-cutting. Unfortunately, however, the 3-D effects add absolutely nothing to the experience - in fact, they're more of a distraction than an enhancement.

The strongest moments of Thor are not necessarily the big special effects sequences, but rather the dramatic scenes. The dialogue between Thor, Loki and Odin crackles with emotion and intensity, and the sincerity which pervades these scenes allows us to buy this world as being real. Also, the romantic subplot concerning Thor and Jane possesses a spark and a dynamic which places it light-years ahead of standard contemporary romantic comedies. These particular strengths are no doubt thanks to the exceptional Kenneth Branagh, whose career in Shakespearean tales and dramas prepared him well for the film's dramatic elements. Furthermore, Thor takes a number of unexpected twists and turns; focusing more on suspense and clever narrative gyrations than CGI blotation.

The cast is marvellous from top to bottom. Thanks to Branagh's experience with drama, he was able to bring out the best in each actor. Hemsworth is hugely engaging and charismatic as the titular Thor. His astonishing physicality suits the role to the ground, and he delivered his lines with tremendous gusto. The former Aussie soap star is no doubt on his way to true stardom. Alongside Hemsworth, the reliable Anthony Hopkins is, of course, a scene-stealer as Odin, while Tom Hiddleston's performance as the conflicted, ambiguous Loki is flawless. Natalie Portman admirably performs her duties as the token love interest, and she is boosted by solid back-up courtesy of the funny, cute Kat Dennings and the kindly, wise Stellan Skarsgård. Jeremy Renner also appears briefly as Hawkeye. Renner's brief inclusion just amounts to a sly nod to the upcoming Avengers movie for the more perceptive film-goers, but his presence makes sense rather than feeling forced. In fact, this applies to all of the references to other Marvel movies - they feel organic, rather than included for the sheer sake of it.

In an era of summer blockbusters of declining quality, Thor is a refreshing treat indeed. Mere movie-goers can rejoice that this is a masterpiece of blockbuster filmmaking, while fans should rejoice that this is both a great standalone movie and a terrific bridge to The Avengers. The trailers for Thor were admittedly not overly impressive, but this is a real case of the trailer not doing the film justice. Trust me - this is a masterpiece; it's better than Iron Man, better than Spider-Man 2, and it's worthy of both your time and money. And, as usual, stick around until after the end credits for an extra scene.

9.3/10

"You're a survivor, aren't you, Sidney? What good is it to be a survivor when everyone close to you is dead? You can't save them. All you can do...is watch."

Veteran director Wes Craven and screenwriter Kevin Williamson re-energised the horror landscape in 1996 with Scream, a thrilling and hilarious postmodernist commentary on slasher films featuring cinema-savvy characters who wind up in a real-life slasher. After a robust sequel and a disappointing threequel, 2011's Scream 4 (or SCRE4M) continues the franchise in style. Benefitting from a whip-smart screenplay credited to Williamson (who returns to the fold after sitting out Scream 3), Scream 4 is as much a reinvention of the once again worn-out slasher subgenre as the original Scream was in the late 1990s. With the horror genre entering a new phase in the 21st Century, and with both culture and technology having further developed since Scream 3 in the year 2000, Scream 4 has a metric fuckload of new tropes and clichés to deconstruct. Despite a few missteps, this fourth Scream film marvellously juggles humour and thrills without either tone lessening or overwhelming the other.

Hoping to heal and leave behind the trauma of her past, Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell) writes a self-help memoir. Meanwhile, the Stab movie series (inspired by the "real-life" events of the previous films) remains popular, with the franchise up to its seventh instalment. As the anniversary of the original Woodsboro murders draws close, Sidney returns to her hometown to promote her book with her publicist, Rebecca (Alison Brie). Unfortunately, a new Ghostface killer chooses to emerge at this time, picking off the local teenage population in a grizzly fashion. This time, the Ghostface killer ostensibly targets Sidney's remaining family and friends, including the friends of Sidney's adolescent cousin, Jill (Emma Roberts). Also back in action is Sheriff Dewey Riley (David Arquette), now the husband of reporter-cum-author Gale Weathers (Courteney Cox). While Dewey works alongside Deputy Judy Hicks (Marley Shelton) to catch the killer, Gale decides to investigate the murders herself.

The first Scream set its satirical sights on scary movies and slashers, Scream 2 took a self-aware jab at sequels, and Scream 3 offered a few meta ideas on film trilogies. Although Scream 4 carries a numerical appendage, it targets Hollywood's most significant horror trend of the past decade: remakes and reboots. With the murders occurring in Woodsboro again and the Ghostface killer targeting a new crop of teens, the characters recognise that a real-life "remake" of the first film is happening. Liberally reusing the familiar Scream formula may seem lazy, but the shrewd execution of the film's whodunit elements combined with the cunning satire ensures the familiarity is not detrimental, and the film keeps us guessing who the killer/s is/are. Employing the same formula is also a splendid way to poke fun at the horror franchises that always recycle the same tiresome formula ad infinitum. In addition, Williamson's script mocks the never-ending stream of torture porn horror flicks that flooded multiplexes after the success of 2004's Saw. Indeed, Scream 4 has its finger on the pulse of modern filmmaking and technological trends, primarily commenting on the rise of social media and the insatiable obsession with internet fame while also incorporating online live-streaming and screenings of cult movies for rabid fans. The film even respectfully tips its hat to Edgar Wright's masterful 2004 gem Shaun of the Dead.

The Scream series is renowned for thrilling, clever opening sequences, and Scream 4 announces its arrival via a brilliantly conceived opening that knowingly mocks another recognisable genre trope. It is a masterful opening that works on multiple levels and immediately promises that the Scream series will continue indulging in postmodernist fun at the expense of contemporary horror clichés. However, the opening half an hour or so following the opening is genuinely lousy, playing out like subpar fanfiction with moments of poor, forced character interaction. Thankfully, things pick up once the killing spree truly kicks off, and the film scarcely sets a foot wrong as it delivers engaging storytelling and thrilling set pieces. Another reason for the enduring popularity of the Scream series is that it mixes satirical humour with genuine thrills and chills. In this sense, Scream 4 delivers once again.

Confidently recovering after 2010's severely panned and bafflingly incoherent My Soul to Take, Craven shows with Scream 4 that he can still shock and thrill despite being in his 70s. Scream 4 is not quite as ferocious as the first film, but Craven pulls no punches - this is an unapologetically R-rated slasher with ridiculous amounts of blood and gore, delivering the type of material that genre fans crave. The attack scenes are vicious and visceral, ensuring audiences feel that, despite the laughs, the characters are still in genuine danger. Scream 4 also brings back franchise mainstay Marco Beltrami to compose the soundtrack, and the resulting original score adds appreciable intensity and excitement. However, despite the competent set pieces, the film lacks genuine moments of skin-crawling, goosebump-provoking terror like the original film's opening with Drew Barrymore, which had movie-watchers gripping onto armrests for dear life. Nevertheless, this is a minor quibble - for the most part, Scream 4 succeeds as a fun thrill ride, especially for the franchise's long-time fans.

The returning trio of Neve Campbell, Courteney Cox and David Arquette effortlessly slip back into their characters after a decade-long absence, recapturing the same verve, zeal and charm. Instead of surface-level imitations, the actors authentically embody their iconic roles, making it feel like no time has passed. The only other franchise mainstay who returns here is Roger L. Jackson, who voices Ghostface. Jackson continues to bring genuine menace and terror to these scenes, making his inclusion feel meaningful instead of tokenistic. Fortunately, the new cast is equally successful, and each character is distinctive in terms of characteristics, personality and appearance. Of the females, Emma Roberts (future American Horror Story mainstay) and Hayden Panettiere stand out the most as Jill and her friend, Kirby. Jill is essentially the new Sidney, and Roberts is up to the task - she is beautiful and vulnerable, but there's also an edge to her performance. Alongside her, Panettiere emanates cool with ease, creating what would become a fan-favourite character. Also of note are Rory Culkin and Erik Knudsen as the film geeks of the picture, Charlie and Robbie, who run Woodsboro High's cinema club. With the pair doling out most of the meta commentary on remakes and sequels, they are the de facto replacement for fan-favourite Randy, who was murdered in Scream 2 but fleetingly returned in Scream 3 for a video lecture. Anthony Anderson also deserves a special mention. The first time that a main cast member from the Scary Movie series has crossed over to the Scream franchise (what a full-circle moment), Anderson is his usual goofy, affable self.

With Scream 3 deservedly regarded as an underwhelming disappointment, beholding such an entertaining and confident fourthquel is encouraging. Despite its prolonged development period and the behind-the-scenes dramas (Scream 3 scribe Ehren Kruger did uncredited rewrites during production, leading to reshoots), Scream 4 is the best slasher in at least a decade. Although the hit-and-miss quality of Noughties slasher films renders this a backhanded compliment, Scream 4 is a terrific slasher by any metric. Despite the obvious financial motivation to revive the franchise, Williamson and Craven manage to deliver a fresh, intelligent, funny horror film that should please established fans and introduce the slasher genre to a whole new generation of film-goers. Despite Craven passing away in 2015, the Scream franchise continued to live on through a television show and further sequels.

7.4/10

"If you grow up here, you're more likely to wind up selling your bodies on the streets, or shooting dope from dirty needles in a bus stop. And if you're successful, you'll make money selling junk to crackheads. And don't think twice about killing someone's wife, because you won't even know it's wrong in the first place. Maybe... you'll end up like me. A hobo with a shotgun."

With a title like Hobo with a Shotgun, surely you can easily ascertain everything you need to know about this motion picture. By no means is it an art movie, nor is it a date flick unless your date is a sick-minded gore-monger - Hobo with a Shotgun is a gleefully crazy blast of exploitative fun with the go-for-broke lunacy of your typical Troma picture. And if it sounds like it is the perfect filmic complement for the likes of Machete and Planet Terror, there is a good reason for this - the picture was born out of a faux trailer which won a fake trailer contest that was held to promote the Robert Rodriguez/Quentin Tarantino double bill Grindhouse in 2007. For the easily offended, Hobo with a Shotgun is a film to miss. But for the viewers who "get" this type of flick, Hobo with a Shotgun is a welcome buckshot of grindhouse-style insanity. This is a flick destined to tickle the pleasure centres of those who grew up sifting through the most bizarre, offensive-looking VHS boxes at their local video store.

As the film commences, the grizzled titular Hobo (Hauer) hops off a fright train with the intention of finding a new home and earning money by starting a lawnmower business. However, his chosen town is a scummy hellhole of sadists and whackjobs which is ruled with an iron fist by crime lord Drake (Downey). Drake and his ghouls own the town and the police force, leaving the Hobo disgusted and aching for change. In the shoot-'em-up tradition of Death Wish and Clint Eastwood's Man With No Name westerns, the Hobo starts dispensing justice throughout the town with his shotgun; punishing criminals quickly and violently. A newspaper headline even screams "HOBO STOPS BEGGING, DEMANDS CHANGE". During his quest he also befriends Abby (Dunsworth), a hooker with a heart of hold who provides the human contact he's been craving.

Running at approximately 85 minutes, Hobo with a Shotgun never slows down to the point where the story is tedious or boring. The pacing was well-judged by director/editor Jason Eisener, to the point that the film never lulls but doesn't feel underdone either. The Hobo and his plight are efficiently established within the first act, which allows Eisener the freedom to begin filling the screen with gory imagery of hyperbolic proportions. Morality is swiftly disregarded, but there's fun to be had for those willing to take a trip into this gleefully hedonistic world. Bodies are blown apart, heads are blown off, people are decapitated, wedding tackles are shredded with buckshots, and so on. Interestingly, while Hobo with a Shotgun is replete with sadistic sequences to ward off the easily offended, there is witty dialogue throughout the film in addition to unexpected sentiment and a few smart yet bizarre monologues delivered by the Hobo. Plus, the purposely bad dialogue is hilarious. Unfortunately, the sole flaw of Hobo with a Shotgun is that it only triggers a giddy impression in places. Too often, a metric fuckload of viscera is thrown all over the place, generating a disturbing feeling of sadism as opposed to an aura of schlocky merriment. When the film works, it works. When it fails, however, the film is uncomfortable and borderline agonising.

Eisener evidently grew up watching the low-budget exploitation movies of the '70s and '80s, and consequently replicated the old-school cinematic style with an impressive attention to detail. An opening credits sequence straight out of the '70s prefaces Hobo with a Shotgun, with a copyright date under the title and a Technicolor credit. Eisener and cinematographer Karim Hussain shot the film in vivid Technicolor, meaning the flesh tones appear almost orange and the geysers of blood are deep red. The histrionic, occasionally shoddy camera angles further solidify the aesthetic. Indeed, with these techniques in place, Hobo with a Shotgun possesses the look of a picture which has been sitting in a vault for 30 years. Heck, even the musical score is spot-on. See, Eisener opted for a different type of grindhouse aesthetic - while Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino used scratched prints and missing frames for their throwback films, Eisener chose over-the-top camera angles and a retro colour palette, which affords Hobo with a Shotgun with a sense of freshness.

Of course, the key to pulling off a film like Hobo with a Shotgun is playing it with a straight face. Luckily, Rutger Hauer was recruited to play the titular Hobo, and the iconic veteran actor was up to the challenge. Hauer is simply excellent, and not just by action film standards - in fact, Hauer is more nuanced than all the cast members of Inception combined! Hauer shows in his performance that he knows what the joke is but he also knows not to let it show - he never winks at the audience, but he is not clueless; he gets it. Alongside Hauer is the gorgeous Molly Dunsworth, who submitted one hell of a performance as the kind-hearted Abby. Naturally, a film of this type needs colourful, over-the-top villains. Fortunately, as the bad guys, Brian Downey, Nick Bateman and Gregory Smith were all up to the task. The majority of the performances here are loud, clunky, obvious and exaggerated. Are these good actors pretending to be bad for the sake of the aesthetic, or are they just bad? It's a testament to the film's success that the answer to this is not obvious, and it doesn't matter either way.

In final analysis, Hobo with a Shotgun has more going for it than not. When it's not uncomfortable to watch, the film is a hoot. These days, genre fans have become accustomed to seeing studio action films getting neutered to service a large audience. Meanwhile, 2011's Hobo with a Shotgun is exploitative trash cinema through and through which gives fans exactly what they crave with none of the restraint. That is something which does not happen often. Here's hoping Jason Eisener and writer John Davies will add a few more bloody classics to the trash cinema genre in future years.

7.3/10

In the decades since its inception in 1968, the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) has been subjected to severe controversy. Accusations of homophobia, favouritism of studio films over independent productions, and a preference for violence over sex have been made over the years. Not to mention, MPAA President Jack Valenti's flawed brainchild has continued to operate in almost total secrecy. According to Valenti (who died in 2007), ratings are designated by a board of raters who supposedly represent the average parent and have children between the ages of five and seventeen. Yet, the identities of these raters are always kept secret from both the public and the filmmakers who submit their movies. Meanwhile, film critics (Roger Ebert included) have suggested that the MPAA has exhibited biases and unmistakable inconsistencies. Kirby Dick's This Film Is Not Yet Rated is a documentary which sets out to unmask the MPAA's policies and reveal the identities of those who determine film ratings.

For those who are familiar with the controversies surrounding the MPAA, this exposé will not offer much in the way of surprising revelations. On the other hand, for those who naively believe that the MPAA are valuable public servants providing a useful helping hand to filmmakers and parents, This Film Is Not Yet Rated will shock you. Over the duration of 90 entertaining minutes, documentarian Kirby Dick delves into the hypocrisy of the MPAA in addition to providing insight into the arbitrary, secretive ratings process. Another of Dick's goals was to uncover the secret identities of the ratings board members. In order to achieve this, he employed a trio of private detectives. Thus, the film often follows Kirby and the private detectives as they go on stakeouts, follow cars, and rummage through trash cans. However, the film's weakest moments are those concerned with providing background about the detectives. Their overinflated presence dilutes the focus of Dick's thesis.

Thankfully, This Film Is Not Yet Rated was assembled in a skilful, entertaining manner. Kirby cuts between statistics on the MPAA, interviews with filmmakers, and footage from offending movies which received an NC-17 rating. Several directors like Kevin Smith, John Waters, Matt Stone, Kimberly Peirce and Wayne Kramer provide testimonials throughout, and express concerns that the ratings board constrains and censors them. An especially interesting point which is raised is that realistic sexuality and violence usually earns an R or NC-17 rating, whereas unrealistic (i.e. bloodless) violence is given a docile rating to allow for more of the public to see. Former MPAA ratings board members and other distinguished individuals are also interviewed throughout. On top of this, there is a particularly effective sequence showing a side-by-side comparison of sexual sequences removed from indie pictures (in order to obtain an R rating) contrasted against almost identical footage from R-rated studio releases which made it into the final cut.

As it turns out, not all of the ratings board members of 2006 are average American parents with teenage children. The majority of them are in fact older Americans whose offspring are in their 20s. Also, since the members were selected from a small geographical region in South California, one cannot consider them to represent an accurate cross-section of the country. It also begs the question of who does represent the "average American parent". Essentially, the MPAA are a bunch of anonymous individuals whose cynical judgments impact how motion pictures are created, marketed and distributed. Not to mention, their judgments affect box office performances. Am I the only one who finds this notion disturbing and scary? Without a doubt, This Film Is Not Yet Rated affirms that the MPAA system needs a complete overhaul.

To the credit of Kirby Dick, This Film Is Not Yet Rated is not a mere angry diatribe against the MPAA, but instead a thoughtful documentary which raises legitimate questions about the ratings process. Of course, it will be interesting to see whether the movie will cause the organisation to take a look at its policies, realise the problems, and revise their modus operandi. Perhaps the death of Jack Valenti will eventually allow for a revision of the system.

8.2/10