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He does not really stand for anything, and his crimes are as much motivated by personal revenge as any abstract political goal. The anarchist, a terrorist murder named “V” is hardly a hero, but is, instead, by turns ghoulish, witty, bloodthirsty, kind, kooky and spooky.
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Moore’s own thoughts and opinions on the issue raised did not intrude on the storyline. In the mind of this reader, at least, the comic book version was not glorifying bloodshed and anarchy. Global catastrophe has ushered in a dictatorship in England, complete with ubiquitous Orwellian observation cameras, secret police, corrupt clergy, gulags in Suffolk, thuggish cops, fearful citizens, and other typical police-state props. Moore penned a tale of an anarchist fighting a totalitarian system in near-future England.
#1984 john hurt boot stepiing on face movie
Let me deal with the lighthearded hatred first, before I speak of serious hatred.įor those of you who have not seen it, the movie is a semi-unfaithful adaptation of the Alan Moore comic of the same name. I will also admit that I also “hated” the movie in a Kyle-Ryner-is-not-Green-Lantern sort of way. Can I explain, defend or justify all my furor? I fear not, but let me try. Usually I hold such things at arm’s length and regard them dispassionately, trying to see what the argument for the other side might be. I confess that the strength of my own revulsion surprises me. The word “blasphemy” is one that both theists and atheists can understand to mean the kind of hate that makes you yearn-if only for a moment-for the Grand Inquisitor to find and ever-so-slowly burn to death whoever desecrates everything you love.
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#1984 john hurt boot stepiing on face code
This kind of hate comes when someone insults your moral code in a serious way. This movie was sick, and it left a stain of moral nastiness lingering in my heart to have seen it. I thought the movie offended humanity itself, by acting as an apologist for evil, by glorifying terrorism, by upholding as noble the doctrine of nothingness which forms the empty core of nihilism. I am not saying the movie offended the principles of story-telling, such as by being ugly or boring (it was, of course). It did not offend my aesthetic sense, but my moral sense. Fanboys “hate” things because they are things that insult our intelligence, or they are pious-PC dreck, or they treat our beloved schoolboy comic characters with contempt.īut I was appalled by this movie in a most serious way, appalled with a revulsion I can hardly explain. In other words, geeky fans are just having fun by disliking something they know, deep down, is not very serious. Usually when I say I “hate” a movie, it is in the half-serious half-pompous and utterly frivolous way that, for example, a fan of Green Lantern “hates” Kyle Ryner (who is not the real Green Lantern) or the way that fans of Spiderman “hated” the black costume (until it became a supervillain in its own right). I must say that rarely have I hated a movie so much. I had a chance to see V FOR VENDETTA, starring Hugo Weaving’s voice and Natalie Portman’s bald head. Reprinted here for the edification and amusement of my cherished readers. This was written during the Bush Administration, not long after the fall of the Twin Towers in New York, back when my opinion of Pharmaceutical Companies was less cynical than now. In honor of Guy Fawkes Day, I thought it apt to reprint my review of V FOR VENDETTA (2005) starring Hugo Weaving.