God forbid we allow substance-rich, masterpiece works of film be made. Why would we want substance when we can have twelve explosions and a peak at this years glamour girl's tits? :rolleyes:
Anywho, to get this rolling back on topic...
***Please note that I've recently changed my rating system from five stars to four stars, to accomodate the popular four star system used on the site.***
The Machinist (Anderson, Brad; 2004) After an accident to his fault, an insomniac-machinist is left to question his own sanity. *** of ****
Lets cut to the chase. This was an ok film. Above mediocre, but far from anything special. It was going great, until the truth began to come forward, with about forty-five minutes left of the film. At which point, I had to curse out loud, and say to myself, "This is a carbon copy of bloody Fight Club!" Luckily, once I encountered the climax, I found there was a larger twist. Thank god. Plenty entertaining, although a lack of originality, along with maybe a tad shortness of substance, gave me the feeling of a B three-star film.
"Somebody told me when the bomb hits, everybody in a two mile radius will be instantly sublimated, but if you lay face down on the ground for some time, avoiding the residual ripples of heat, you might survive, permanently fucked up and twisted like you're always underwater refracted. But if you do go gas, there's nothing you can do if the air that was once you is mingled and mashed with the kicked up molecules of the enemy's former body. Big-kid-tested, motherf--ker approved."
