Problem: Write a positive (OPTIONS:
- negative
- positive) movie review.

Answer: On September 11th, 2001, millions were killed; but 2,819 lives ended in an especially gruesome manner. They were the victim of a plane hijacking by extremists whose sole mission was to destroy buildings, but more importantly, people. This film takes an in-depth look at four people whose lives were cut short by this disastrous event and one man whose life was shattered by the loss of their lives.

Charlie Fineman (played by Adam Sandler), a former dentist living in New York, loses his wife and three children on September 11th as they were on their way to Los Angeles. Emotionally annihilated by the events, he eventually loses touch with everyone who reminds him of his former life; including his in-laws and his best friend (played, respectively, by Robert Klein, Melinda Dillon, and Mike Bender). He goes into completely denial and does his best to forget about his former life. This continues until he runs into his old college friend Alan Johnson (played by Don Cheadle) who Fineman doesn't seem to remember. The two begin to catch up, but Fineman believes Johnson was sent by people from his former life to persuade him into finding help. Slowly, but surely, Fineman regains his trust for Johnson.

While all this is happening, Alan Johnson's life is going down the wrong path. He is a self man (dentist) who helps start a dental practice. One day, a patient of his named Donna Remar (played by Saffron Burrows) attempts to make a move on him, telling him that she would like to perform oral sex for him. This is an unwelcome surprise to Dr. Johnson since he is a married man with two children. As he is coming home from work on a particular workday, he sees his old friend (Fineman) and tries to flag him down. He is unsuccessful, but he gets another opportunity and persuades Fineman to get a come of coffee with him to catch up, despite the fact that Fineman doesn't know who he is.

One of the most interesting things about this movie is its use of music as a motif. One of Fineman's physiological crutches is music, particularly Springsteen and other classic rock artists. When Fineman is asked to open up about his past or to talk about things he finds unpleasant, he puts on his earphones and drowns out the world with things his music.

When the film was over, I had me thinking: how would I cope with the loss of my family? How would I deal with such a tragic events. It's something we don't really think about too often. We always think they'll be there and we often take them for granted, whether we intend to or not. We usually realize how important they are when it's too late; and a blow like that can destroy someone physically, emotionally, and physiologically. I really don't know how I would be able to deal with something like that. Would I face the problem head on, cope, and move on with my life or would I just put my headphones on and block the world?

Problem: Write a negative (OPTIONS:
- negative
- positive) movie review.

Answer: This was probably the worst movie i have ever seen in my life!! It was stupid there was no plot and the special affects were ridiculous!! And i have never seen such bad acting in my life! The only good part about the movie were all the hot guys(especially Drew Fuller). I don't know what these people were thinking when they made this movie!! I didn't even want to finish the whole thing because you get to this point in the movie where the guys are all in bed touching themselves. I mean it was like some kind of sick and twisted kiddy porn! I would advise anyone who has heard of this movie and was interested in seeing it to just forget about it and find another movie to watch! I was very disappointed!! The whole movie was a complete waste of time in my opinion.

Problem: Write a negative (OPTIONS:
- negative
- positive) movie review.

Answer: Spike Lee has been in a decline since his early successes and this mess does nothing to help. I looked at my watch frequently hoping the movie would end or get to the point. Lee's first movie with an all-white cast is a major disappointment.

What's the point? That Italians swear and like funky sex, but not with their wives? If I wanted to see Scorsese, I'd go to a Scorsese movie. The incredibly lame Godfather character only adds to the stereotype.

I've admired several of Lee's films, especially "Do the Right Thing". This movie is a waste of time.

Problem: Write a negative (OPTIONS:
- negative
- positive) movie review.

Answer:
Consider for a moment what it must be like to be Uwe Boll. Somewhere, perhaps in those places that Jack Nicholson said 'you don't talk about at parties', Boll knows that David Lean had head lice as a child that had more talent for film making than him. Gore Whores, metal-heads and the socially dysfunctional may bump into him on the circuit and tell him otherwise but general audiences find the Teutonic helmsman's output so bereft of originality, wit or imagination that he's become the internet's bogeyman an online discursive synonym for photochemical excrement. Boll does his best to ride over these naysayers, exploiting tax credits available in Germany and Canada to keep working and raising money from a network of dentists as Zero Mostel did with old ladies in The Producers. The difference being that Mostel's character knew he was making bowel fill. Maybe Uwe knows it too.

Such is the level of hostility toward each new 'Bollbuster' that IMDb patrons sabotage their ratings by voting 1 before they've seen it. Boll's attempts at silencing his critics by challenging them to a boxing match and knocking them out just made them more determined. Indeed he's probably the only filmmaker that's boosted thesaurus sales as critics search for inventive ways of describing garbage.

This onslaught has made Uwe a very thick skinned man, so much so that he must feel like he's wrapped in a carpet, but one who feels as if he's bullied by the entire world. Like most people in that situation he lashes out, determined to upset as many people as possible with the memory of a tearful evening holding Variety's review of House of the Dead, never too far from the surface. This 'I know you are but what am I' strategy for reclaiming the initiative produced the blunt satire of Postal, which attempted to napalm the dissenters with jokes about 9/11, Christian fundamentalism, Jihad, Nazism and paedophilia. Such a litany of invective requires a satirist with the mind of Peter Cook and the visual imagination of Chris Morris but the closest Boll gets to either man is the o in their surname.

In Seed, shot back to back with the aforementioned game adaptation, Boll is back with a story about a sadistic serial murderer (is there any other kind?) who gets the chair only for two attempts to fail in permanently curtailing all signs of life. Mindful of the fictional law that says anyone still alive after 3 attempts must go free, though if you'd been fried with that much electricity why would you want to, they pronounce him legally dead and bury him, only for the disgruntled killer to resurface and begin a whirlwind tour of his gaolers.

Boll begins his 'exploration of nihilistic rage' with Seed watching footage of animals being tortured for experimental purposes. From there we're treated to the killer's stock in trade kidnapping dogs, babies and grown women and allowing them to starve to death on camera only to become maggot food. We're invited to reflect on what a depraved race of amoral meat sacks we all are our inhumanity to each other and our fellow creatures acting as a lighting rod that acts as a catalyst for the most disgusting vestiges of the human condition. Yes, we're worthless, gormless sadists and worse than that, we won't give Uwe a good rating on the IMDb. In short, humanity is bunk.

Of course you might think that Uwe relies on our worst excesses for his livelihood and with that in mind it's a bit of a bipolar piece, on one hand hating its audience and positively basting itself in the sour milk of human kindness the milk that poor old Boll has had to drink for so long, while simultaneously whipping out its member and inviting those with a pornographic lust for on screen depravity to marvel at its sheer arse splitting girth.

The result says nothing about society and its discontents, more the corrosive effect bad press is having on its director. Poor Uwe is obviously a very angry man one scene in which a poor woman gets her brains hammered to a pulp while tied to a chair, no doubt a surrogate for his own fantasy's about dispatching various web critics. That it's there but takes an avant-garde approach by failing to be attached to any kind of narrative thread, shows that Boll is a pornographer whose happy to engage with the blood lust of his audience and knows that plot is surplus to requirements. He's made a film which is competently shot but utterly desolate. "I wanted to make a horror movie that was no fun" Boll told the audience at the film's world premiere and he has, on that flimsy manifesto, succeeded but if this was supposed to convince the director's detractors that he was a serious genre filmmaker, he'll need something genuine to say as well as a better, more original way of saying it.