Reviews

There are some movies that I remember first of all for a single message. The first thing I remember from High Noon is the reason Will Kane won't run away; from Conan the Barbarian, it's Conan's prayer before the Battle of the Mounds; from Excalibur, it's that danger always comes from where you least expect it.

From Heat, the first thing I remember is "Don't let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat, if you feel the heat around the corner." I have had reason to think about it many times since I first saw this movie. (Though fortunately I have had no reason to act on it, yet.)

For sure, there are other good things about the movie. There are the action scenes, some of which have a connection to the "30 seconds flat" message. Wrapped around that, there is the drama; depending on taste, 3 hours of it might be too long, but it felt just right for me.

On the negative side, it is hard to sympathize with any of the characters -- but is that really a negative? maybe it is better to watch the movie with detachment.

What makes this movie great is that it all comes together: the plot; the action scenes; and the message that, just possibly, you might have to give up on anything you hold dear: not just for your own good, but also for the good of the very people you hold dear.

Great visuals; great soundtrack; Sergio Leone directing; Henry Fonda, Charles Bronson, and most important (for those of us whose tastes run in that direction) Claudia Cardinale. What could go wrong with this movie? judging from the IMDb rating, nothing. But since I liked very much the Dollars trilogy and Once Upon a Time in America, I am writing this review to warn others that they might, possibly, be as disappointed as I was.

So, once again, what can go wrong with this movie? for starters, one can figure out, very early on, that it is going to end with a gunfight between the two main characters, and therefore that they are not in any danger at any point in the movie. That is true of many other westerns, but I cannot think of any other western where the entire plot consists of a series of diversions with the sole purpose of delaying the final gunfight -- for nearly three hours. Good westerns, and good action movies in general, build up the tension, which is not the case here: the final gunfight might as well have happened in the first scene, if both of the main characters had shown up at the train station. Apart from that, there were other excellent opportunities which the main characters let go to waste. They should have seized their chances and saved us a lot of time, part of which could have been used in finding images of Ms. Cardinale on the web.

On the positive side, the final gunfight is worth fast-forwarding to.

As is often the case, my rating is lower than it would have been without high expectations.

Excalibur includes the single greatest piece of wisdom I found in any movie. This is the exchange between Arthur and Merlin, about 1/3 of the way through. I quote from the "memorable quotes" section of IMDb:

Arthur: Where hides evil in my kingdom, then?

Merlin: Always... where you never expect it. Always.

(One does not need to read Nassim Taleb's The Black Swan to appreciate this wisdom, but it helps.)

Merlin's wisdom is highlighted, ironically, by his own failure to heed it: pretty soon, Merlin is trapped by an enemy whom he took to be a friend. We all delude ourselves that we are wise, that evil hides where _other people_ do not expect it; but evil actually hides where _we_ do not expect it.

There is really no need to say anything more, except to draw a balance sheet. The modifications and simplifications of the original legends are sometime annoying and perhaps unnecessary, but the movie captures the mysterious, haunting aura of the legends. There are some unforgettable scenes, but other scenes are over-the-top. The acting is not always top-notch, but Merlin is outstanding. The soundtrack is very well chosen, especially the Carmina Burana, but also the Wagner pieces (I'll never be a Wagner fan, but his music works very well here). On the whole, the movie is a bit uneven, and I have made it clear what I consider to be the high point.

This movie is about the confrontation between a waitress (Raquel Welch) and a high-school history teacher: the waitress is not happy with the teacher instilling antisemitic conspiracy theories into the mind of her daughter (and the minds of her classmates). The final scene is in court, but much of the drama comes from the fact that popular opinion is more favorable to high-school teachers than to waitresses; and, in a small town, it is not good to have popular opinion against you.

It is easy to see that this movie was made for TV. The plot is not too bad, but the acting is less than impressive. Given these limitations, it might seem extravagant to compare this movie to High Noon, but some of the themes are there: a small town, a woman with a reputation for easy morals, and a person who stands for what is right even when everybody else wants to keep it quiet. The fact that it is the woman of easy morals who stands for what is right, is an interesting twist.

However, the main point of interest for me were the classroom scenes. It was fascinating to see how the teacher cajoles the students to look at history the way he sees it (that is, as the unfolding of a vast Jewish conspiracy). What really stuck in my mind was the teacher saying that history is about discovering patterns. In a sense, he was right: without looking for patterns, history is just one fact after another. And yet, we can find any pattern we like in history; that is to say, we can use history to justify any prejudice that we have. This is a dilemma that will keep me thinking, and that is more than I normally expect from a TV movie.

This movie is a bit like "Aprile", except that it's not autobiographical. It is about a small-time producer, battling against personal and financial problems, who tries to make a movie about Mr.B (as I shall call Berlusconi). The idea has potential, and for about the first half, the movie is fairly entertaining, but it goes downhill from there. In the end, the personal problems of the producer degenerate into the pointless psychological sado-masochism that Woody Allen has recently inflicted upon us, and Mr.B becomes increasingly peripheral to the plot.

People hoping to learn about Italian politics from this movie will be disappointed, but it is still possible to gain a few insights. One insight I had, is that the most interesting thing about Italian political cinema is which movies are never made: Mr.B. has vastly greater resources, but he doesn't bother to make movies or documentaries critical of his opponents. He probably thinks that it would not be worth his time and money. Soon after the Left lost the 2001 elections, Moretti himself said that, with the leaders it's got, the Left is never going to win -- and he got a standing ovation at a rally (of the Left). He was too pessimistic, but at least he is a man who says out loud what he thinks.

For the record, I believe both sides of Italian politics to be about equally bad (at the time of writing), for very different reasons; but, contrary to Moretti, I don't think that Italian politics is worse that that of some other European countries. Anyway, I'll volunteer a piece of advice to the Italian Left: if you want to criticize Mr.B, make a documentary: some of the best scenes in this movie were archive footage of the real Mr.B.

By comparison to that footage, the final scene looks like a lame coda: whatever its artistic merits, this scene did not grip my attention because there is no build-up to it. Also, I believe that the end of this scene grossly overstates the effect of Mr.B's propaganda on the Italian public.

In conclusion: coming from the director of "Caro Diario", this movie is a disappointment; but it might still be worth seeing, at least the first half.

There are three reasons why I love this comedy. Right at the beginning, I liked the idea that there is a place for countries like the Duchy of Grand Fenwick in this World.

Then there is the brilliant insight of the Duchy's government: the best thing that can happen to a country is to lose a war against the USA. Europeans with a historical perspective will know what he is talking about; and maybe, if the Vietnamese had known this, a lot of trouble would have been avoided. Just kidding...or maybe not.

The third reason is the concept of a band of warriors with chain-mail and crossbows invading Manhattan. I have a tendency to root for the underdog. Granted, it would have been somewhat easier in 1959, but still...

Once the invasion is over, there are no more great ideas in this movie, but there is plenty to keep one interested. Watch out for the line: "My woman...and my bomb!" (as I remember it.) And don't miss the very last scene.

This movie combines the subject matter of Dr. Strangelove with the understated humor of Kind Hearts and Coronets, and it is interesting that these 3 movies have another feature in common: an English actor playing multiple roles (Alec Guinness in Kind Hearts, Peter Sellers in the others). My guess is that people who like Kind Hearts and Coronets will also like this movie.

In Scientific American (Feb. 1998) John R. Hale wrote: "Plato may have denied the existence of ideal forms in this world, but Plato never saw a Viking ship." In fact, Plato had several disadvantages: he saw the Parthenon, of course; but he never listened to JS Bach, and he never tasted Islay whisky; most relevant here is that Plato never saw a Japanese sword.

If there is a better way to appreciate the Japanese sword than to see this movie, I don't know it. The choreography of the sword-fights might not be the best, and the black+white photography is a drawback in the action scenes; but no other movie builds tension more effectively, and without tension, no action scene can be fully appreciated.

When I first saw this movie, I had already seen two other samurai movies by Kurosawa. That gave me a superficial familiarity with medieval Japan (as seen by Kurosawa), so that I could focus on the plot, the characters, and the action, without having to worry about the unfamiliar setting. Now I have seen this movie often enough to follow it without subtitles, enjoy the sound of the Japanese dialog (without understanding it), and still know from memory what is going on.

The highlights of this movie are the three sword-fights, with Sanjuro, alone, facing overwhelming odds. When the third sword-fight comes, you'll know right away that it's going to be the last. It is a classic western-style showdown, with Sanjuro and the bad guys facing each other on a dusty, wind-swept main street in a Japanese village. When I first saw the set-up, I could not help giggling to myself in eager anticipation; and I was not disappointed. Yet the first sword-fight is perhaps the most impressive, for its explosive violence and the terror that suddenly strikes the heart of Sanjuro's enemies.

Having said that, it would be very wrong to conclude that the movie is just an excuse for a few action scenes: the other major theme is the Machiavellian plot to clean up the village. Sanjuro explains this plot early on to the innkeeper: he cannot eliminate all the gangsters single-handed, so he'll set them against each other. The success of this plan depends crucially on persuading the gang leaders that Sanjuro is only interested in the money: if they realized that his goal is to clean up the town, the plot would collapse.

This movie was somewhat more enjoyable than The Seven Samurai for me: partly because I saw The Seven Samurai when I was not yet comfortable with the setting in medieval Japan; partly because in this movie the interludes between action scenes are shorter, and the action scenes generally better. However, there cannot be a real comparison, because The Seven Samurai is mostly a study of the title characters, while Yojimbo is more about plot than character development. The seven samurai hardly ever interact with the bad guys, except by violence; Yojimbo lives amongst the bad guys. Ultimately, both movies are masterpieces in different ways.

This movie includes both straight comedy and a kind of candid camera (the kind where the camera is visible, but the victim is unsuspecting). The comedy is merged with the candid-camera segments so well, that if you do not pay close attention you might forget that some of the people are not acting.

Before going on, a few words about my background: most of my interactions with American people have been academic - meaning, I mostly interacted with American students and academics. As a consequence, I have come to see America as the land of political correctness and moral relativism. No doubt, mine is a biased point of view, but it's the point of view from which I saw this movie, and it must be mentioned.

So this why this movie is interesting to me: there is this Borat character who pretends to be from a country that few of us know much about; he talks to a number of Americans from different backgrounds, in different contexts, and everything he says and does is very un-PC, if not plain offensive. How are Americans going to react? are they going to be PC and tolerate Borat because of his background? or are they going to reject him because he is not PC? or are they going to reveal their own un-PC prejudices when it is safe to do so?

The answer is a bit of all three, of course; but, on the whole, the people meeting Borat make the best of a difficult situation. Usually they explain, politely but firmly, that certain things are not done in the USA. This is what the self-defined "veteran feminists" do, for instance. Of course, it helps that they are "veterans": modern Taliban-supporting American feminists would not dare to contradict a non-westerner, even if he says that women have small brains.

In a way, it is disappointing that Americans behave in such a civilized way: Borat himself is always funny, but his victims are a bit too predictable. However, sometimes we see reactions ranging from the funny to the outrageous. For example, the scene in the gun shop is a hilarious double-act, with Borat as the comic and the shopkeeper a brilliant straight-man. Better than any single scene in "Bowling for Columbine".

On the other hand, I found most offensive the attitudes of the college students who gave a ride to Borat. That's a relief: there are no more outrageous people in America than I met on campus! (update 2006.11.11: apparently the students sued the film studio.)

There is much more in this movie, but I'll just give a warning: pay attention to how New Yorkers are much more wary of physical contact than people in other parts of the country.

In conclusion, Borat put the American people to a harsh test, and they came out reasonably well, but not too boring. How would Europeans come out? I am not sure that I want to know. I take one star off the rating because the movie could have been even better with more candid-camera and less straight comedy.

Perhaps there is little point in writing a negative review of a movie that not many people will see. Also, I walked out at the intermission, so I am only half-qualified to write (although I have been told that it gets worse in the second half). Still, given that the few IMDb reviews are much more positive than the average IMDb rating, it might be useful to have a review that represents the opposite side.

So what is wrong with this movie? Two things. First, as other reviewers mentioned, the writers threw into it everything that came into their minds, aiming mostly for shock value, at the price of flushing plot and character development down the toilet. Second, the setting is very bleak and gritty. One could object that Kurosawa's samurai movies, or Roman Polanski's Macbeth, are also bleak and gritty, but they have great plots, great characters, and manage to be uplifting, which is more than can be said for this movie. Maybe it is a realistic portrait of the most depressed areas of Dublin, as the Irish reviewers say. However, it is not a side of Ireland that many foreigners will like to see. If there were some insight to be gained into human nature, it would still be worth seeing an unpleasant movie, but I do not feel that this is the case here.

Update 2008.03.27: I decided that it is not fair to give the minimum rating to a movie which does not disappoint. I could not be disappointed by this movie because I did not know what to expect, so my rating is slightly increased.

A full review of this movie should discuss whether it is true to the facts, but many others have done so, on and off IMDb, much better than I can. In any case, one should never go to a political documentary hoping to learn The Truth. I am particularly skeptical about Michael Moore because I remember him stating, in "Roger and Me", that General Motors was making "huge profits" in the 1980s. (That does not mean that everything Moore says is wrong).

Leaving facts aside, I shall focus on two other issues. The first is that it is wrong to say that this movie is anti-gun: it is anti-anything that Moore doesn't like. That includes, but is not limited to, big corporations, the media, and American intervention abroad. Moore even tries to blame violence on the media's obsession with violence; which, taken to its logical conclusion, implies that he should blame violence on his own documentary.

Arguably, the broad range of targets makes it a better movie: if Moore had only one target, he would have presented only one side of the argument. The drawback is that the viewer can get any message he or she wants to get. At least, this is the impression that I get from the IMDb reviews.

The other issue that I want to discuss is related to the opening sentence of the movie: "It was the morning of April 20th 1999 (...) The President bombed another country whose name we couldn't pronounce." A minimally-educated European will be reminded of Neville Chamberlain saying: "How horrible, fantastic, incredible, it is that we should be digging trenches and trying on gas-masks here because of a quarrel in a faraway country between people of whom we know nothing."

As I said, American intervention is, in fact, one of the targets of this movie; but Moore does not discuss in detail any specific war, possibly because he could not pronounce the name of any of the countries. The reason Moore is opposed to these wars is that he thinks they have created a culture of violence within the USA. The evidence that he offers for this claim is that Marilyn Manson also thinks so.

So Michael Moore reveals himself: not a new Riefenstahl or a new Goebbels, as some people claim, but a new Chamberlain. Michael Moore wants peace for our time. We foreigners can kill each other without restraint: Michael Moore won't make documentaries about it, unless we live in countries with names easy to pronounce.

Actually, the comparison to Chamberlain is not entirely appropriate: Neville Chamberlain was an elected leader, and his policy of appeasement had the full backing of the British people, who are collectively to blame for the failure of appeasement. Moore, needless to say, does not have the full backing of American people.

Incidentally, Moore does not mention Chamberlain in the movie, but he does mention Gandhi, during the Charlton Heston interview. However, it would seem that Moore has no clear idea of what Gandhi actually accomplished.

While my comments range from the sarcastic to the scathing, I did find the movie quite entertaining, and it introduced me to some interesting characters, James Nichols for example. People who have read this review up to here will probably look at the movie critically, and therefore I can recommend it to them (except if they don't want to finance Michael Moore, of course). Unfortunately, it is more likely to be seen by people who would stop reading at the first negative comment.

This movie is far more effective as fascist propaganda than Loni Riefenstahl could ever hope to be. It works this way: you see Attila (the main fascist character) behave as a psychopathic monster without any redeeming features; you remember that the Italian fascists murdered only about one dissident per year (and no Jews) while Mussolini was in power, which adds up to about the same number of people that Attila alone murders in the movie; and you decide that the Italian fascists were not as bad as they are portrayed. It is only a short step to concluding that the fascists were not as bad as they might have been, which is to say they were not so bad after all. The fact is that the great crimes of the Italian fascists, mostly committed abroad, are completely ignored in this movie. Instead, Attila kills Italians. Perhaps Bertolucci is ignorant of the fact that fascists are nationalists?

Since Attila and his lover exist for propaganda purposes, it goes without saying that they come out of central casting. In fact, they make Red Sonja look like it was scripted by Jane Austen. The other characters are developed a bit better, say about as well as in Red Sonja. Another appropriate comparison is to Tim Burton's Batman (and Batman Returns): in 1900, as in Batman, the crowds accept uncritically whatever the "bad guys" want them to believe - with the exception of the working classes, of course, which are unfailingly portrayed in a positive light.

If it were possible, I would give this movie a negative rating, meaning that it is so pointless, and unpleasant to watch, that to see it again I would need to be paid over and above the price of my time. I am glad that I did not get a chance to see this movie before The Last Emperor: if I did, Bertolucci would be on my blacklist.

This movie sets itself a modest purpose: to keep us entertained for one and a half hours. It succeeds brilliantly, as long as we allow it to succeed, that is, as long as we are willing and eager to be entertained.

This is one of only two thrillers that I know of, in which almost the entire story takes place on board a train: the other is Murder on the Orient Express. The setting works very well in both movies, but I found Horror Express to be more satisfying. At the beginning, as the cast of characters got settled in the train, I got settled in my chair, eager for the journey to start. During the journey, there is enough suspense to keep the viewer interested, but nobody (except the very young or the very sensitive) needs to worry about being scared, or grossed out by gore. I must admit to not having paid too close attention to the plot, but this probably contributes to the enjoyment, and it means that I can enjoy seeing it again.

In short, this movie is jolly good fun as long as you are not too demanding in terms of plot or character development. One of my favorite horror movies.

One problem with this movie is that senseless violence is depicted as glamorous. (This is obviously less of a problem after Pulp Fiction and Sin City.) Speaking for myself, I find this to be only a minor problem.

My main problem is different: the movie raises an important issue, but deals with it in a confused and illogical manner. The issue is whether something like the Ludovico treatment, if feasible, would be ethical. For those who have not yet seen the movie, the Ludovico treatment is a (fictional) conditioning process, by which a violent criminal comes to associate the sight of violence with strong nausea. The purpose is to make the criminal practically unable to use violence ever again.

Presumably, the Prison Chaplain speaks for Burgess and Kubrick when he complains that the Ludovico treatment is unethical because it robs the patient of his free will: the patient avoids violence because he fears nausea, not because he has changed his ethical outlook.

What the Chaplain says is well phrased, as can be seen in the "memorable quotes" section. It is also very silly. It is silly because it assumes that people who try to avoid nausea have lost their free will.

Imagine a criminal who has been to jail and has abandoned crime because he fears going back to jail: does this mean that the threat of jail deprives people of their free will? Imagine also a man who experiences nausea after tasting Bearnaise sauce in a restaurant: this man is unlikely to eat Bearnaise sauce again, but can he sue the restaurant for depriving him of his free will (as opposed to suing for food poisoning)? If the answer to both questions is no, then a man who abandons crime because he fears nausea has not lost his free will, either.

On the other hand, if the answer to either question is yes, that means that people lose their free will when they have to suffer the consequences of their actions. So this is what the Chaplain's tirade amounts to: there is no free will if people suffer any consequences from their actions; and therefore there is no free will in the real world. It sounds absurd if put in these words, but this is the only way I can make sense of what the Chaplain says.

It might be argued that there is a qualitative difference between fear of prison and nausea: the two emotions activate different brain pathways, for instance. There can be reasonable disagreement on the differences between the Ludovico treatment and prison, and there is plenty of room for debate on this issue. The fact is that the movie does not even begin to address the issue! The Chaplain does not explain why he is opposed to the Ludovico treatment, but not to prison. Nothing in the movie suggests any reason to prefer prison to the Ludovico treatment; if anything, the Ludovico treatment is portrayed as faster and more effective in reducing crime. This brings me back full circle to my starting point: the movie raises an important issue, but deals with it in a confused and illogical manner.

In spite of all this, I was entertained by the movie: there is an interesting story and stylish cinematography, as one would expect from Kubrick. The violence is unpleasant, but it is not gratuitous: it shows what kind of person the main character is, and what kind of people he hangs around with. But at the end of the movie, what remains in my mind, and sticks in my throat, is the Chaplain's speech. I perceive it as an insult to the intelligence of the audience. Should I be more disturbed by the violence? I don't think so, because the violence is fictional, while the silly ideas that the Chaplain is advocating can do serious damage to an impressionable mind.

People who have never seen "Conan the Barbarian" probably expect a sword-and-sorcery movie with a predictable plot, over-the-top action scenes, and pathetic attempts at humor. The reality is very different.

This movie is a statement about two fundamental human values: survival and revenge. In Western society, we can hardly appreciate these values, because we hardly ever need to worry about survival, and with the State taking care of justice, we feel little need for revenge. By watching this movie, we get a different perspective. Of course, not everybody will like this movie: I have actually met people who don't. I put it down to people not appreciating how important survival was to our ancestors.

Sword-and-sorcery movies, such as "Conan the Destroyer", "Red Sonja", and "The Scorpion King", have nothing to say about survival and revenge: they are too light-hearted (but at the same time their attempts at humor are too coarse). "Conan the Barbarian" is closer in feel to "The Road Warrior", or "Escape from New York", two other movies set in worlds where survival and the rule of law cannot be taken for granted.

Another relevant comparison is with the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy. Here the difference is that "The Lord of the Rings" is a struggle between Good and Evil, while "Conan the Barbarian" is a struggle for survival (and revenge).

While the movie is not very realistic, it feels much more "real" than the sequel. Apart from a bit of sorcery, which does not affect the plot, there is nothing glamorous about the life story of Conan. It seems strange that somebody who grows up pushing a wheel ends up with a well-proportioned Schwarzenegger physique: how can you develop your biceps muscles if you always push? However, I was not too bothered by this flaw.

Arnold's acting is (to put it mildly) less than brilliant. Still, this is not a drawback: how articulate do you expect Conan to be, when he grew up as a slave? Speaking of which, R.H. Howard purists often complain that the "real" Conan would never be a slave. However, the movie would be much poorer if Conan did not have some real hardship to take revenge for.

There is no question that visuals and music play a big role in this movie. I have been listening to the soundtrack a few times a week for nine years, and it is better than Prozac.

Yet dialog (or rather, monologue) also has its moments. There are a couple of intriguing speeches, by Conan's father and by Thulsa Doom; but the most stirring monologue is Conan's first and only prayer, delivered just before the crucial Battle of the Mounds. The philosophy that transpires from this prayer is pretty straightforward: nobody will remember if we were good men or bad, but people will remember if we were brave; revenge is what Conan most cares about; and if his gods won't help him, then he'll help himself.

This movie is loosely based on the Kipling short story by the same title, but for once the adaptation is a big improvement. In the short story, there is much less character development, and the Daniel character is allowed to dominate; in the movie, the two main characters get a fairly balanced exposure.

The result is one of the great adventure stories, and at the same time a great Shakespearean tragedy. In this respect, it can be compared to that other Huston masterpiece: The Treasure of the Sierra Madre.

Yet, even this high praise does not do full justice to the movie, because I have not yet mentioned the scenery, the music, and, most important, the two unforgettable main characters. Daniel and Peachy are crooks and megalomaniacs, but, on the whole, it is hard not to sympathize with them: because it's only a movie, of course, but also because of their quiet self-confidence and dry sense of humor; because they do not lose dignity in failure; and because, for all their flaws, one can sense that they have lived interesting lives, and wishes to hear them tell their stories.

Sometimes Daniel and Peachy treat the natives pretty shabbily, but only on one occasion I thought that they would behave differently to a white man. This occasion, unfortunately, is at the very beginning of the movie, in the train scene. You should not let this scene alienate you from the Peachy character, because you won't see him behave like that again.

There are a few remarks that might offend the overly sensitive, such as: "(we are) not gods, but Englishmen, which is the next best thing!". (Incidentally, this might have been inspired by Cecil Rhodes.) But this remark should be seen in its context. It is pretty clear that Daniel and Peachy believe themselves to be close to gods, not because they are British, but because they are Daniel and Peachy. They are quite happy to make fun of their fellow Britons and of the entire colonial enterprise: witness lines such as "It was detriment like us that built this bloody Empire!" or "We are going to teach you (...) to slaughter your enemies like civilized men."

From their talk to Kipling and to the District Commissioner, one gets pretty soon the picture of the individualistic, libertarian philosophy of Daniel and Peachy. Perhaps this is best encapsulated in their conversation when they are trapped at high altitude and expect to die from exposure. They consider whether their lives have been wasted, and decide that they would not go back even on the point of dying, if that means giving up on their memories. Without giving anything away, I can say that their best memories were yet to come.

Going to see this movie, I expected to disagree with its message, but I wanted to know how easily one can fool top trade negotiators, and hoped to laugh at some funny pranks. I was wrong on all three counts.

First of all, there is nothing to disagree with, because the movie contains a single claim of any political relevance: apparently, trade agreements have reduced the power of governments (but how could an international agreement fail to restrain governments?). Actually, this claim is of interest for what it says about the anti-globalization movement: they take to the streets to increase the power of the State. We have come a long way since 1968!

There is also a guest appearance by Michael Moore, but he does not have anything relevant to contribute, apart from a self-satisfied smirk. Not surprisingly, there is no mention of the intellectual father of anti-globalization: Benito Mussolini.

Second, the Yes Men did not go anywhere near top trade negotiators. In fact, I am not sure that they went anywhere near anybody who knows what the WTO is supposed to do (not that it manages to do much, but that's another issue). More on this later.

So the only thing to discuss is the entertainment value. Part of the movie is reality TV: we watch the Yes Men as they get up late, get a costume manufactured, change clothes in a toilet, etc. Eventually, we get to see the first prank at a conference in Finland. Here, the Yes Men deliver a lecture, pretending to be from the WTO. The lecture starts by addressing an academic question about slavery (note to those who never heard the question before: Adam Smith addressed it in 1776); and ends with a pathetic attempt at a visual gag. The pained expressions of members of the audience suggest that they, like me, were just hoping that it would be over as soon as possible. The Yes Men take the silence of the audience as a sign of stupidity. It does not occur to them that maybe the prank is just not funny.

We are not told who were those people in Finland, but one thing is clear: they were not top trade negotiators. If they were, they would not go to a conference whose organizers confuse the Yes Men with the WTO.

But there is a deeper problem: according to the Yes Men's lecture, the WTO is devoted to developing gadgets. Now here is the Catch-22: if the audience were taken in, then they do not know anything about the WTO; if they were not taken in, then the Yes Men made fools of themselves.

There are a couple of other pranks. One is at the expense of a college class. This prank managed to make me smile, but I do not recommend watching it on a full stomach. This time we know for a fact that the students were taken in. They, too, believe that the WTO is devoted to technical development. Not a good advertisement for the college.

Finally, the Yes Men persuade an Australian chamber of commerce (or was it a news conference in Australia? I can't remember, and the movie web site doesn't say) that the WTO is closing down. The concept is pretty bold, actually it should have been the best prank in the movie, but it falls short because we do not get to see the targets of the prank when they realize that they have been taken in.

Members of the chamber of commerce (or whatever) were interviewed while still under the impression that the WTO was really closing down, and they seem to think that it is a good idea to do so. This is surprising enough for me to give an extra star to this movie. But what do they think is wrong with the WTO? Their answers do not go beyond banalities, which is a pity. So much more of a pity, since there will never be another chance to ask them.

In conclusion: If you want to know more about "globalization", do not waste time on this movie. If you just want to see some funny pranks, then see "Amici Miei" (1975): too cynical for some people, but at least there is something to laugh about, and even the toilet humor manages to be funny.

As a thriller, "Munich" works very well. Unfortunately, Kushner, Roth, and Spielberg felt the need to overlay the thriller with a political statement. Thus, we are faced with an assassin who talks like Hamlet, because he has to talk for Kushner & Co. It is difficult to get involved in an action movie when even the main character's heart is not in it.

At the beginning of the movie, Avner (the main character) is offered a clear choice: to join the mission or not; and he decides to join. Then, after killing his first target, he begins to feel moral qualms. Some of his team mates react in the same way. Nothing strange about that, and yet their crisis of conscience does not seem sincere: their words and actions hardly betray any feelings about killing. Instead, they talk about the abstract morality of their mission, and its likely consequences. They are almost too cerebral to be recognizable as human characters. They do not amount to much as philosophers, either. Their discussions offer no more insight than: killing is bad.

To be fair to this Hamletic hit squad, part of their problem is that they are faced by conflicting information: first they are told that new terrorists are recruited by terrorist attacks, like Munich; later they are told, or tell themselves, that killing terrorists creates more terrorists. Damned if you don't, and damned if you do.

This cognitive dissonance takes its toll on Avner. In one scene, he empathizes with a terrorist who wants to kick all Jews out of Palestine. In another scene, flashbacks of his terrifying experience in Munich do nothing to inhibit his sexual performance. A psychiatrist could make a career out of studying this guy!

Once more, apart from the psychological flaws, the movie is actually very good. The logic of Avner wanting to take part in the Beirut operation is pretty shaky (did Avner want his informers to know that he was in it, or not? and why go there in either case?); the way Avner buys information looks too easy to be true; but otherwise I found the plot believable. Even the physics is realistic: nobody flies off backwards when hit by a bullet, for instance. It would have been a great movie if Kushner & Co. had allowed the story to speak for itself.

As a footnote, the statement "Every civilization finds it necessary to negotiate compromises with its own values" (see memorable quotes) is questionable. It is hard to believe that the ancient Mongols or the Vikings ever had to compromise their values. The Icelandic sagas show that the "cycle of violence" is easily broken, when both sides accept that the other side is going to stand up for its rights. Genghis Khan had his own (quite effective) way to break the "cycle of violence". Maybe the Viking and ancient Mongol cultures do not count as civilizations, but even so, they are still valid as proof of concept; so it would have made more sense to say: "Every civilization finds it necessary to negotiate compromises with its own unrealistic expectations". But then the statement becomes a tautology.

For me, Will Kane embodies the American ideal of a hero: a man who stands up for what is right, even when nobody else does, even when the temptation is strong to stick the head in the sand.

Will Kane explains his outlook at the outset: there is no point in running away if that means spending the rest of your life watching your back. His best chance is to face his enemies on his home ground. At this point, he still thinks that honest folk will stand by him. The rest of the movie is a study in character: will he stand his ground when his entire world crumbles around him?

It is puzzling that Howard Hawks, John Wayne, and others thought of High Noon as un-American. I am not sure if this is because of the allegory of the McCarthy era; or the people of an American town collectively sticking their heads in the sand; or the Marshal throwing his badge to the ground in the last scene.

Clearly, the movie does not criticize McCarthyism itself. (It has nothing to say about communism, either.) It appears to criticize the people who did not stand up to McCarthy and the HUAAC, but it can equally well be seen as a comment on the appeasers who did not stand up to fascism or communism.

In any case, not too much must be made of the anti-appeasement angle, because the townsfolk is not the primary focus of the movie: the focus is on Will Kane. When the townsfolk behave like cowards, that gives Will Kane a chance to prove that he is a hero. If the town had stood by the Marshal, we would have seen, at best, an excellent Western like Rio Bravo, but not a masterpiece like High Noon. For Will Kane to be a hero, it is necessary that he stands alone.

No statement can convey the dramatic impact of Will Kane throwing his badge away, but it is worth discussing what this gesture means. For me, it means that the town and the badge were not worth fighting for. Will Kane fought for principle: he fought because he does not run away.

It seems appropriate that the 1812 overture is part of the soundtrack for this movie: Tchaikovsky might dazzle for a short while, but you wouldn't want to listen to it for over two hours.

Even those who have not yet seen the movie, probably know that the Wachowski brothers have jumped on the anti-Bush bandwagon. The political message is not too blatant, but knowing about it helps to understand the symbolism.

The movie is set in a future dystopian Britain (confusingly called "England": perhaps Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland have become independent?). There is a second civil war in the USA, and "England" has fallen under a dictatorship with Christian theocratic overtones. By the look of the regime logo, the official religion seems to be Eastern Orthodoxy.

For some reason, the title character thinks that blowing up the Old Bailey and the Houses of Parliament would help to restore the rule of law and democracy. He styles himself after Guy Fawkes, a Catholic terrorist who tried to blow up Parliament with everybody inside.

Actually, the entire script appears to be written in blissful ignorance of the real world. For example, the dictatorship bans the Koran. What are the reactions of the 1.6 million Muslims in Britain? the movie does not acknowledge that they even exist. Another example: the movie opens with a British televangelist saying that America has fallen because it is more Godless than Britain.

The internal logic of the movie world is just as shaky. The regime is only nominally Christian, so why does it waste police resources in persecuting apolitical homosexuals? and why does it impose a late-night curfew?

It gets worse. One might think that an American civil war would generate enough fear to sustain a few dozen dictatorships, but the British regime fakes a few terrorist attacks for good measure. This conspiracy looks useless twice over when it transpires that people do not believe in the regime propaganda.

On the other hand, people immediately believe the first TV broadcast from a masked man who speaks against the government without offering any evidence whatsoever. This is what I call the "Running Man" plot device: an anti-government video is shown on prime time TV, and popular opinion is immediately turned around. It is becoming a popular plot device.

One might also wonder why V prefers knifes to guns, or how he manages to live in style in the very center of London, but this is nitpicking.

There is a pretense that the plot devised by V is very clever. To support this idea, we are shown how very clever he is with falling dominoes. In practice, the entire scheme devised by V can be reduced to the following:

BEGIN SPOILERS: The regime Security Chief has been plotting to murder the Dictator and take his place; V asks the Security Chief to carry out the execution in front of him; the Chief obliges (for reasons known only to him); finally, V kills the Security Chief. Incidentally, this is the only significant action scene, and it is poorly choreographed: the Chief's bodyguards stand like mannequins, waiting for their throats to be cut. END SPOILERS

This is not much of a plot, so it had to be padded with a revenge sub-plot, some prison scenes, and some explosions.

In summary, this movie has two confused and illogical plots (the movie plot and V's own plot) which show no knowledge of the real world; and no points of interest other than a character with a cool costume. If you want to see what life might be like under a modern theocracy, see The Handmaid's Tale: it has a low-budget look, but what do you expect in a theocracy? If you want a well-told dark story with a masked super-hero, see Batman Begins. And if you want exciting sci-fi action with a decent plot, see Terminator 2: Judgment Day.