Though I'm an avid reader of Salon, I get tired of the A&E critics desperate attempts to show how cool and edgy they are, not only in their appreciation of films of questionable value but also in their casual dismisal of those that the audience or other critics like.

Andrew O'Hehir's remark about Terry Gilliam's recent work (specifically Fisher King and 12 Monkeys), showed this desperate need to generate a reaction in the readership. Specifically, his comment:(sorry 12 Monkey's fans, it's crap), is the kind of bullshit comment that a critic makes to show his superiority. "All of you who like that movie are just stupid, and you are so stupid I don't even have to justify my degrading your taste with an explanation because I'm mighty film critic guy". I read a line like that and I think hmm, this guy just called 'crap' one of my favorite films of all time, a film that scored an impressive %87 on Rotten Tomatoes, and a film that received a glowing review from this very publication when it was released! Any two filmgoers can agree to disagree, but not only did he call it crap, but he specifically worded his comment in a manner that clearly implicates the taste of those who like the film. Well, I guess I know now whose reviews NOT to read on Salon.

Sorry Salon, Andrew O'Hehir is crap.

Hm, seems like you went out of your way to be an asshole to Gilliam in this review, far beyond a simple panning of his film.

...but by not even bothering to back up the "is crap" remark, you've lost any credibility to make further judgment. That's not criticism; that's a tired -- perhaps filmed-out? -- critic's caustic dismissal. Hey, I've been to film festivals. Nothing's good after about 10 hours, except sleep.

As Gilliam's former partners remind us: "Argument is an intellectual process. Contradiction is just the automatic gainsaying of any statement the other person makes."

And Abuse is down the hall, so shut your festering gob, you tit.

It was a tough movie, but I didn't hate it.

The point it makes-- on the resiliancy and resourcefulness of children, and the essential role of imagination in that-- is well worth making, and was made pretty well.

The constant shifting between "sweet/charming/innocent" and "squirmy/uncomfortable" got a little tiring, but that's my only complaint.

is great, but "12 Monkeys" was nuthin' special. Watched it once, and that's enough. Now, excuse me, I have to go see "Stroszek" for the seventieth time.

Although I often disagree with him, Andrew should be Salon's primary film critc.

O'Hehir, what the hell is your problem?

Pinhead.

I beg to differ with your worthless opinion, I thought 12 Monkeys was pretty worthwhile.

Anyway, the Salon reviews:

#1: http://www.salon.com/05/reviews/monkey.html

Terry Gilliam's dazzling "12 Monkeys" brings a tragic sensibility to the growing genre of apocalyptic thrillers.

By SCOTT ROSENBERG

In Terry Gilliam's bracingly grim new "12 Monkeys," the present looks like the future, the future looks like the past, and the past looks truly dreadful. "12 Monkeys" is a time-travel yarn, so this kind of circular paradox comes natural to it.

The present, our present, is represented chiefly by tile-walled mental wards and burned-out inner-city squats. The past appears as a brief glimpse of the mustard-gas-ridden trenches of the First World War. And in the plague-wracked future, technology has devolved into an antiquated mess of reel-to-reel tape recorders and clockwork mechanisms painted a Royal Typewriter black. Everybody lives underground; to venture on the surface requires a Saran-wrap "body condom."

We know by now to expect both visual daring and moral heft from Gilliam, who made "Brazil" and "The Fisher King." What's remarkable about "12 Monkeys" is that, despite its decade-hopping abandon, the film makes a chilling kind of narrative sense. To Gilliam's quiver of attributes this new movie adds a quality that's on the endangered list in today's Hollywood: coherence.

(etc)

#2: http://dir.salon.com/story/ent/masterpiece/2002/08/19/12_monkeys/index.html

Combining time-travel thriller and experimental film, Terry Gilliam's 1995 oddball classic steals a tale of doomed love and cruel fate from Hitchcock -- then pays back the debt.

By Virginia Vitzthum

August 19, 2002 | Alchemy seemed unlikely. A Bruce Willis action flick based on a French film made of still photos. A serious rumination on love and fate by the guy who, a few years earlier, had made "The Adventures of Baron Munchausen," one of the memorable bombs of Hollywood history. A time-travel thriller that dares to compare itself to Alfred Hitchcock's "Vertigo." But this 1995 holiday-season release finds a profound poignancy in its sci-fi premise and actually pays back its debt to Hitchcock in a scene so layered it spins a new twist into his bottomless spiral of a movie.

That scene falls toward the end of "12 Monkeys," which is, like "Vertigo," a love story between a damaged detective and a dead beauty. Willis' James Cole, sent from the 2030s, hides out with his psychiatrist, kidnap victim and lover, Kathryn Railly (Madeleine Stowe), in a theater where "Vertigo" is showing. It's late 1996; a viral plague will kill her and 5 billion others in a few weeks. On-screen, Kim Novak's first incarnation explains her bogus "past life" to Jimmy Stewart, pointing to the dated rings in the trunk of a fallen redwood. "I was born here, here I died."

(etc)

...I was skimming your reviews, got down to the Gilliam review and stopped dead...and then stopped reading the rest of the review...when you mentioned his age.

65 years old? And your point is? That's supposed to disqualify him from filmmaking?

Ageism, my dear Andrew, is a disgraceful thing to show to the world.

Salon should be ashamed of themselves for allowing this to sneak into a review of any kind. Would this be said about Bergman or Fellini?

Saw Tideland last night in a wee little movie house here in Belfast, N.I. The theatre was about half-full - it was clear from the audience reaction during and after the film that we were all captivated.

I myself sat open-jawed most of the time - what an extraordinary film! Perhaps the best depiction of childhood I've ever seen on the screen.

With this kind of myopic, uniformed, and dare I say it BLIND film review guess that's it for me and Salon.