this gormlessly macho testosterone fueled madness lost LOADSAMONEY for its film studio, was ripped to shreds by the reviewers, was uber-patriotic to the point of Corporate War Ludicrosity and I fuc'kn loved it.
Yeah, shameless, I know. But it's a great little film, based on a dead simple premise. WIN THE GAME or die.
The film's director Peter Berg even had the gall to show how WTC Building One 'should have' toppled over, top heavily - you know, rather than top-down exploding itself to smithereens in ten seconds flat. Kudos, at least, for commemorating that truth.
But the HUMOUR of the film was the one shining watermark, it KNEW it was a stupid film, it understood the audience of these sorts of products, and it did it with HONOUR and PRIDE in a job well done. It didn't take itself too seriously, in fact it was as hard on itself as the bravado-bantering troops. This was a proper clever film about, '"How we really do need a massive Global Army, Navy and Airforce paid for by the blood, sweat and tears of seven billions slave workers living in slave cities that are crumbling around their slave ears) just in case the aliens aren't totally kumbaya kissy huggy hippy weed smoking aliens."
And you know what, I was fished in so competently, the entertainment hook embedded so deeply, I almost forgot (almost forgot) the gratuitous irony of Hollywood's cynical Military Industrial Collusion mind control Complex.