Q: What's an example of a movie review?
An example of a movie review is here: Claire Denis' debut is both a brave and self-assured one. In this depiction of life towards the end of French colonialist Cameroon, she explores the relationships between men and women, black and white.

With the black servant 'Protee' as the film's primary object of desire and oppression, the film enters taboo territory from the beginning. Denis builds a picture of life through a series of character relationships that keep the informed viewer fixed to the screen. The mood of the film is captured perfectly by the camera-work and (lack of) lighting.

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

Answer: This 1973 remake of the classic 1944 Billy Wilder film, "Double Indemnity," is a textbook example of how to destroy a great script. This grade-B TV fodder also illustrates the folly of remakes in general. While Hollywood has gone after greedy executives that colorize black-and-white films and sought disclaimers on wide-screen movies that are shown in pan-and-scan versions, the industry has ignored the hacks that insist on taking a classic film and diminishing it with a shoddy remake.

The first step in producing a bowdlerized version of a classic is to edit the script. The Billy-Wilder-Raymond-Chandler work was cut by a half hour to fit the finished film into a specified time-slot with room for commercials. Then update the production with bland, color photography, smart, upscale sets, and TV-familiar actors. Thus, the brand-new "Double Indemnity" eliminates the atmospheric black-and-white film-noir cinematography that enhanced the mood and characterizations of the original. Gone are the dusty, shadowy, claustrophobic sets that explained the protagonists' desires to escape their situations at whatever cost. Gone are the close bond between Keyes and Neff and the erotic attraction between Neff and Phyllis.

The look of Jack Smight's take on "Double Indemnity" is more "Dynasty" than film noir. Phyllis Dietrickson has a designer home to die for, and Neff's comfy pad would be hard to afford on an insurance salesman's salary, not to mention the sporty Mercedes convertible that he drives. Neither character has any apparent motive to murder for a paltry $200,000. If not money, then perhaps murder for love or lust? Not in this version. Richard Crenna shows little interest in Samantha Eggar, and their kisses are about as lusty as those between a brother and a sister. Crenna fails to capture the cynicism of Neff, and his attempts at double-entendre and sexual suggestiveness fall horribly flat. Eggar is little better and lacks sensuality and the depth to suggest the inner workings of a supposedly devious and manipulative mind. Only Lee J. Cobb manages a creditable performance as Keyes. Director Jack Smight and his three principals have all done much better work.

There was no conceivable reason to produce this wretched remake except to fill time in a broadcast schedule. There was no conceivable reason to resurrect this dud on DVD and package it with the original film except to fill out a double-disc package. The only lesson that can be learned from this misfire is that even a great script and great dialog can be ruined with poor casting, lackluster direction, and TV grade production values. The 1973 "Double Indemnity" should be titled "10% Indemnity," because viewing it only underscores the 100% perfection of the original movie.
Problem: OPTIONS:
- negative
- positive positive
=++++=
Answer: Where the Sidewalk Ends (1950)

Where One Ends, Another Begins

This is a prototypical film noir, and as such, pretty flawless, from both style and content points of view. The photography and night settings are first rate (cinematographer Joseph LaShelle lets the drama ooze in scene after scene), and the close-ups on faces pure expressionism. I can watch this kind of film for the visuals alone, even when the actors struggle and the plot stinks.

But the acting is first rate here, and the plot features what I consider the core of most noir films, the alienated male lead (representing the many men returning home to a changed United States after the war and feeling lost themselves). In fact, not only is Dana Andrews really convincing as the troubled, loner detective, he has a small but important counterpart in the film, the lead female's (first) husband, an decorated ex-GI fallen onto hard times and booze. The fact the one man kills the other might be of monumental significance, overall-- the regular guy struggling through his inner problems to success while the medal-wearing soldier slips into an accidental death with a silver plate in his head. The woman transitions from one to the other--we assume they marry and have children as suggested earlier in the movie. Even if this is pushing an interpretation onto it after the fact, we can still see the path of one man with some psychological baggage careening through a crisis to the highest kind of moral order--turning himself in for a small crime just at the point he has actually gotten away with it.

This movie belongs to Andrews. He plays a far more restrained and moving type than Kirk Douglas plays in a similar role in William Wyler's Detective Story made just one year later, and Andrews certainly is less theatrical. You could easily see both movies side by side for a textbook compare and contrast session. The fact that Andrews as Detective Dixon is morally struggling through it all, and Douglas as Detective McLeod is not, might explain why one man gets his girl and the other doesn't. Gene Tierney pulls off a hugely sympathetic, demurring, and ultimately conventional and "pretty" type of woman--not just a cardboard desirable, but someone you want Dixon to actually marry.

The criminal plot is really secondary to the main drama, but is effective enough in its play with types and cliches. The bit parts are kept snappy, the small details (like the portable craps table) nice touches, far from the character actors or the glamour of gambling in Casablanca. But then, Curtiz's great movie is iconic even in the details--it makes no effort to be subtle and real and penetrating, but instead is sweeping and memorable and inspiring. They come at opposite ends of the war, and represent opposite possibilities for their leading men. Bogart is beginning his active duty, Dixon, and the man Dixon has killed, are all through. Through, thoroughly, but not washed up.

It's no accident that many, possibly most, film noirs have what you would call "happy" endings. The man overcomes his adversaries and transforms his inner self, and the moviegoer, then and now, understands just how beautiful that must feel.
Q: What's an example of a movie review?
An example of a movie review is here:
I'm afraid this one is pretty dreadful, despite several good performances and generally competent acting-for-the-camera direction. It's a first and last attempt by writer-director Soo Lyu. "Rub and Tug" (2002) is one of the unfortunate by-products of Canada's program to promote home-grown film-making. While the program encourages worthwhile efforts like "New Waterford Girl" it opens the door for untalented novices like Lyu who did not have to aggressively pitch this project but was green-lighted without an adequate examination of her script or her credentials.

You don't mind the low budget because the shabby production design, bad lighting, poor audio, and dreary docu-style shot selection is consistent with the subject matter; the workers in Canadian massage parlors. But the dialogue and the plotting doesn't give the actors anything to work with, the editor much to assemble, or a viewer any mental challenge other than suspension of disbelief. When your story is this simplistic the last thing you need is a muddled storytelling technique; even though nothing happens, the movie is hard to follow and point-of-view impossible to pin down.

Don McKellar's performance as Conrad is several notches below his similar characterization in "Exotica". Lindy Booth's Lea is her standard quirky airhead; as always she is likable but here she is little else. Kira Clavell's Cindy is a pleasant surprise, a kind of Asian Shelley Duval. The only other role of any consequence, Tara Spencer-Nairn's street-wise Betty, more than cancels out her excellent performance in "New Waterford Girl". Her shallow performance in "Rub and Tug" should curtail any tendency to seek out other films in which she has appeared; unless you need further confirmation of "Waterford" director Alan Moyle's skill in working with young actors.

You quickly conclude that Lyu's reptilian brain cannot grasp concepts like plot complexity, so the need to insert a lazy and lame "deus ex machina" device toward the end is hardly a surprise. Still it could be worse, the listless story has so little internal logic anyway that the unlikely ending is not as painful as would normally be the case.

Then again, what do I know? I'm only a child.