In this task, you are given a review of a movie and a boolean question whether this review has positive sentiment or negative sentiment. Your task is to generate answer "yes" when the tweet has that particular sentiment, otherwise generate answer "no".

Ex Input:
Review: This is one of those films that I could only sit through once. Charlotte Henry is fine -- in fact, all the actors were fine. The problem was in the script, the dialog, the direction, the editing, the sets and the special effects. Granted, this was 1933, but it really creaked. Part of the problem is that actors like Richard Arlen, Gary Cooper, W.C. Fields and Cary Grant are not recognizable (there faces cried for a recognition that was not forthcoming). The movie just clumped along with no cohesion. Much of Lewis Carrols spirit, humor and continuity are missing. What a pity! It's such a great book. I would recommend Disney's 1951 version. Question: is it a negative review?

Ex Output:
yes


Ex Input:
Review: I'm a pretty old dude, old enough to remember the taste of Oreos and Coke as they were 50-55 years ago, when every taste for a kid was fresh. I wish I have somehow set some aside then is some magical suspended locker, so that I could taste those things today. This magical locker might even have adjusted the fabric of the food to account for how I've drifted, physically and otherwise, a sort of dynamic chemistry of expectations. Over the half century, they would have had to adjust quite a bit, because you see I would have known that I set them aside. Eating one now would be a celebration of self and past, and story, and sense that would almost make the intervening years an anticipated reward.I didn't have enough sense to do that with original Coke. And I couldn't have invented one of those magical psychic lockers  not then. But I did something almost as good. In the seventies, I really tuned into Roman Polanski. He was a strange and exotic pleasure  you know, movies smuggled out of the Soviet block. Movies so sensitive to beauty that you cry for weeks afterward. Movies that make you want to live with Polish women, one, and then deciding that they would be the last to get it.Here's what I did. I took what I knew would be my favorite Polanski movie and set it aside. I did not watch it. I deferred until I thought I would be big enough to deserve it. Over the years, I would test myself, my ability to surround beauty and delineate it without occupying it. There probably are few Poles who have worked at this, practicing to deserve Chopin. Working to deserve womanness when I see it. Trying to get the inners from the edges.Recently, I achieved something like assurance that it was time to pull this out. I already knew that I was already past the time when this would work optimally, because I had already seen and understood "9th Gate."If you do not know this, it is about a man who innocently rents a room in which the previous tenant (about whom the story is named) jumped out the window, to die later after this man (played by Polanski) visits. What happens is that time folds and he becomes this woman. We are fooled into believing that he is merely mad. But the way we follow him, he is not. He merely has flashes that the world is normal, and that the surrounding people are not part of a coven warping his reality.The story hardly matters. What matters is how Polanksi shapes this thing, both in the way he inhabits the eye that only makes edges and in inhabiting the body that only consists of confused flesh. The two never meet. There is a dissonance that may haunt me for the next 30 years. Its the idea about and inside and an outside with no edges at all  at all except a redhead wig.I know of no one else that could do this, this sketch that remains a sketch, this horror that remains natural.To understand the genius of this, you have to know one of the greatest films ever made; "Rear Window." The genius of that film is the post-noir notion that the camera shapes the world; that the viewer creates the story. What Roman does is take this movie and turn it inside out. In Rear Window, the idea was that the on-screen viewer (Jimmy Stewart) was the anchor and everything else was fiction, woven as we watched. Here, the on screen apartment dweller is the filmmaker. We know this. We know that everything we see is true because he is the narrator. We know it is true that bodies shift identity, that times shift, that causality is plastic. We know that the narrator will kill us. We know that the narrator will leave us in a perpetual horror, on that edge that he imputes but never shows us and lets us imagine. Ted's Evaluation -- 4 of 3: Every cineliterate person should experience this. Question: is it a positive review?

Ex Output:
yes


Ex Input:
Review: I was going to say this was the worst gay-themed film I've ever seen, but I can honestly say this is the worst film if any genre I've ever seen.You know you're in trouble when a movie starts with a "personal note" from the Director, asking for the audience's "understanding" for the "many challenges" facing a first-time Director. The audio track is so bad in many scenes it's almost impossible to follow the dialogue, and this from a DVD version. Bad lighting, bad sets, bad photography, poor script, generally bad acting all add up to make this "film" unwatchable. I did make it through to the bad ending after several attempts, and immediately gave away the DVD I foolishly purchased. I'm sure there are many challenges facing a first-time Director. But, don't try to palm off this lame attempt as a finished product. I see from IMDb details that this was not only the first Directing attempt of Richard Natale, but also the only. That's the one positive thing I can say about this alleged "movie". Question: is it a negative review?

Ex Output:

yes