The technical term for critically "ripping apart" is deconstruction. The same applies to poetry. And even paintings. Just as the director has constructed this piece, so we as an audience must deconstruct it, in order to find things that the director intended--and didn't intend.

We all deconstruct to a certain extent. Some films beg deep critical analysis. Look at any traditional Scandinavian film for an ambiguous film provoking diverse interpretations. The truth is, Hollywood has always been a financial business over an artistic one. It has target audiences, which is why we end up with so many generic "romantic comedies" and other genre films, adhering to what has already gone and has been achieved, and not what can be achieved. So, with that in mind, I can see why Hollywood productions (and that includes "Hollywoodized" non-Hollywood films) don't beg much deconstruction. Because, a lot of the time, what you see is what you get, and there is nothing else to be found upon a rewatch.

As a personal preference, the most rewarding films for me are the ones which you can go back to and watch again and see the same film which offers different things from the last viewing. Just like the most profound, most memorable poetry, is that which you can go back to and deconstruct again and again and find new things each time you watch them. With a film like Man On Fire (2004), I can't see that happening. You watch it, you enjoy it, you watch it again, enjoy it again, but the viewing doesn't evolve, doesn't provoke any further thought or emotion. Same thing with Scarface (1983).

To me, art is entertainment. If it doesn't entertain me, I don't like it. Irréversible (2002), one of the best films this decade, is possibly the most violent film I've seen, but it entertained me. I didn't smile at it or feel happiness from it; in fact, it repulses me and fascinates me at the same time. But in fascinating me, in inducing some kind of emotional attachment in me to it, it is entertaining my brain cells. On the other hand, Scarface (1983) is a film I've watched three times now, and with each viewing it seemed more gratuitous, arbitrary, repetitive and inconsistently paced; it didn't entertain me. But it's still art.

In that sense, I fully agree with Plaw; that art and escapism are "not mutually exclusive".

If we didn't deconstruct films, then we wouldn't have separate lists of films we like and didn't like. We wouldn't be able to react to a film in any subjective, emotional sense, neither positively nor negatively. And another thing: I don't watch a film to escape my life, but a good film certainly transports me into another world.

In short, the best art is that which entertains; be it entertain my eyes, ears, mind, or satisfies my want to escape by capturing my whole attention and make me unintentionally forget the world outside of a film. And, to elaborate further, the best art does all of those.

The varied responses to this great topic have been intriguing to read, and each have been digested fully in my pondering brain, which is striving to make some coherent sense of the excellent opening question.

Thanks for reading; and discussing,
Mick