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".

Review: Loony Tunes have ventured (at least) twice into the future. The first time was with the brilliantly funny "Duck Dodgers". The latter time was with this  um  effort. "Loonatics Unleashed" isn't without merit, and might be considered a good product were it not that it isn't up to Warner Brothers quality. WB cartoons are noted for their cheeky humor, appealing at least as much to adults as to children. These pedestrian superhero episodes, on the other hand, cannot fail to convince adults to pass them up.The premise of the series is that 6 ordinary individuals (2 bunnies, a Tasmanian devil, a duck, a roadrunner, and a coyote) live on the "city-planet" of Acmetropolis and acquire super powers when a meteor strikes the planet in 2772. What's confusing is that the titles section features these individuals with a count-up to 2772 from the 21st Century. Cute, but frelling stupid.In each episode, the super sextet  amid mildly amusing but essentially banal banter  fight various super villains. For the most part, these are types that appear in every mediocre superhero adventure series and even some of the better ones. Like many mediocre superhero series, this one takes its villains far too seriously for the context. And of course these guys are the only characters that laugh  the usual evil laugh, of course. Why is it that villains in predictable superhero adventures always  ALWAYS  laugh evilly at every opportunity? Animated material of this sort seems to leave laughter exclusively in the province of villains and (occasionally) their henchpeople and/or henchthings.In point of fact, the makers of this series missed their best bets right from the get-go. The superpowers of the characters are sometimes based on their previous normal abilities, but sometimes not. The problem here is that we don't see enough WB looniness. Lexi and Ace have fairly ordinary biologically generated energy weapons and have virtually no personality traits one could describe as "Bugs-like". What we have here is basically the silly and drekish "Teen Titans", including its overly "modern" animation "look", but with animals. Feh.The other misstep by the program's creators is (or are) the villains. As noted before, these are not terribly imaginative and do the evil-laugh bit excessively. Amazingly, the writers totally missed the obvious technique of making villains from stock WB characters as well as the protagonists. Adding to the fun could have been, say, Jupiter Sam  as well as The Fudd, still hunting wabbits  as well as Tech E. Coyote converted into a really neurotic villain  and so on. Ah, the sadness of missed opportunities.Sadly, this whole production has gone into too much overtime (that is, a 2nd season). Nevertheless, we can rejoice that there's something new out there for the 14-going-on-9 crowd. The rest of us can hope for a 3rd season of Duck Dodgers. Question: is it a positive review?
no

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?
yes

Review: The Shining is a weird example of adaptation: it has very little in common with the source novel, written by Stephen King, yet it is widely remembered as one of the best cinematic renditions of the horror master's work. This is due to two factors: Stanley Kubrick's masterful direction and Jack Nicholson's chilly acting.Nicholson plays Jack Torrance, a writer who accepts to take care of the Overlook Hotel in Canada during the winter period, unaffected by the gruesome stories surrounding the place: he claims a nice, isolated location is just what he needs to finish his new book. Therefore the Overlook becomes the new home of the Torrance family: Jack, his wife Wendy (Shelley Duvall) and their five-year old son Danny (Danny Lloyd). The boy in particular senses right from the beginning that something's wrong: he has been told by the cook, Dick O' Hallorann (Scatman Crothers) that he is endowed with a mysterious psychic energy, the titular Shining, which allows people like him and Dick to see flashes from the past and the future, among other things. Because of this "gift", the forces that inhabit the hotel immediately take an interest in Danny, even though he is quite capable of resisting them. That is not Jack's case, however, as he gets increasingly paranoid regarding his wife's affections and seeks comfort in the company of what can best be defined as ghosts, triggering a chain of insanity and dread which is very hard to break.The Shining works as a horror movie because Kubrick, though having never worked on this kind of film before, knew exactly what was effective and what wasn't, hence the larger focus on atmosphere and psychological shocks than gore and creative bloodbaths. King criticized the director for changing most of the story, omitting most of the Jack/Danny subplot (merely hinted at in the film) that led to the book's emotionally strong climax, and while his disappointment is valid, the omission was actually necessary: the novel dealt with redemption, albeit in an unconventional way, and redemption is a theme Kubrick, one of the most famous analysts of human decay, never had a soft spot for. What he is interested in is the mental, and subsequently physical, unbalance that threatens the characters, and he keeps the creepy tone even thanks to a very cold approach and expert use of the steadicam shot (Danny's encounter with two ghostly twins being the best example).Another criticism King raised was about the actors, especially Nicholson: in the writer's opinion, his trademark grin at the start of the movie seemed to indicate Jack already was insane, thus undermining the rest of the story. Now, it is true that Nicholson looks a bit goofy from the very beginning, but it is equally true that Martin Sheen (King's ideal choice for the role) probably would not have been able to deliver a performance as terrifying as Nicholson's: from the moment he starts grinning in a more unsettling way than before to the immortal "Here's Johnny!" scene, it is impossible to picture another actor playing that part, and even though the TV version of The Shining from 1997 isn't bad the Torrance character is indelibly linked to the One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest star. As for Duvall and Lloyd, both add terrific support, the latter especially deserving a place alongside Harvey Stephens (The Omen's Damien) and Haley Joel Osment as cinema's great horror child icons. One might complain about Duvall being completely different from the book counterpart (blonde and beautiful) and not having much else to do but scream and run, but two things ought to be considered: a) back in 1980 the "scream queen" cliché wasn't one yet; b) rarely has any actress looked so genuinely terrified on camera, making the book-movie differences secondary compared to the real fear that emerges from Wendy's eyes.Irvine Welsh, the author of Trainspotting, once said there is no such thing as a completely faithful adaptation of any literary work (and he should know, given the liberties Danny Boyle took when his junkie masterpiece was brought to the screen), yet that doesn't mean the movie is necessarily bad. The Shining proves said point to perfection: very little from the novel, approximately 5%, is included in the film, but in Kubrick and Nichlolson's hands this masterclass in loose cinematic translation becomes one of the finest, most original horror pictures of all time, which really is saying something given the genre's current poor form. Question: is it a positive review?

yes