Wes Craven, you are having a laugh... at our expense. The Red Eye plot is preposterous... We are confronted by a guy who has apparently spent 8 weeks watching a girl, who then turns up at an airport behind her, flirts and chats her up successfully, somehow wangles a seat next to her in a two seat space, not trapped in the middle of a five seat row (contacts at check-in?) and is cheezily nice during a painfully slooooow build up. Then, once up in the air, in a confined space, surrounded by strangers, he immediately starts threatening the vacuous, if super-efficient, Rachel McAdams and saying tosh like 'we got ya daddy, do what I say, or poppa gets it'. Well, forgive me, but didn't they already have her daddy ready for slaughter-so-you-better-oughta long before she stepped on the plane and therefore wouldn't it have been oh, sooooooo much simpler to simply snatch the gal off the street and terrorise her in a room somewhere, forgetting the complicated and insecure dad plot, pulling her nails out or whatever until she made the all important 'call' required? Or even - cos this is the movies and we need a few unreal twists - keep the dumb dad-in-distress thing intact if you must, but dress it up better so that holding him in harms way until the convoluted plot had been concluded made some sense, without the plane dumbdown? Alternatively, without wanting to sound like an actual thinking terrorist/assassin - couldn't the massive bazooka-missile thang employed have been far more easily used on, say, a car driving down the highway, with the politician inside, rather than the 50th story of a Miami seafront hotel, from a fishing boat (mind you, as we already know, security in Miami is lax, so they'll speed away)? I know, I know, far more fun to go through watching a pretty girl for 8 weeks, burgle her dads house to steal his wallet (that somehow - star trek style - gets transported from Miami to Texas instantly) in order to - perhaps - get her to arrange for a politician to change hotel room and, and, and... Well, a thousand things could go wrong here, each one entirely destroying the Big Plan, so why not slim the elements down to a sensible handful, such as - 1. bazooka. 2. car. 3. boom! My 50 minute drive home from the cinema was spent highlighting the abundance of flaws and stupid cod-Hitchcockian twists, which sadly was the best fun of the whole sorry experience. And as for security back at Miami Airport... we have an apparently crazy and violent girl running off a plane, chased by cops, who during the chase sits down to have a coffee, moves elsewhere to read a magazine at a bar, then runs again like crazy up and down the whole terminal... by now also chased by crazed Cillian Murphy (no CCTV then? - I had guns pulled on me for parking in the wrong place for 10 seconds at Miami Airport a couple of years back). So instead of speaking to the cops - her allies - or getting on the blower at a call-box direct to her dad to warn him his life is in danger, McAdams prefers instead to steal a People Carrier off a family in the Airport forecourt (call the damned security...) and drives home to daddy, mowing down the assassin with the vehicle in the front garden of the house, in a rich neighbourhood-watch district, crushing the front porch in the process - an act which actually slightly wakes dad up from an afternoon snooze, after about a minute, yet which somehow fails to register with neighbours who aren't even mildly curious, thus ensuring 15 more minutes of hide and seek shenanigans as the duo run around the vast Hollodeck type house... Dohhh, it actually hurts to keep thinking about it all - Cillian (surely renamed Silly 'un for doing this one?) preposterously turns from ice assassin to comically unhinged (and inept) lunatic killer at the end, this theoretically ruthless despatcher of human life now allowing the dad to live so that he can watch his daughter getting her goose cooked. I'd better stop, because the stream of drivel I'm writing here must sound as uncoordinated as the Red Eye script. If Ms McAdams hadn't been allowed to get on the plane in the first place the title could have been altered, from 'Red Eye' to 'No Eye, Dear'. RR
Classify an input text. Only return the class label as a single word and no reasoning or other content. Class labels 'postive', 'neutral' or 'negative'. Text: Wes Craven, you are having a laugh... at our expense. The Red Eye plot is preposterous... We are confronted by a guy who has apparently spent 8 weeks watching a girl, who then turns up at an airport behind her, flirts and chats her up successfully, somehow wangles a seat next to her in a two seat space, not trapped in the middle of a five seat row (contacts at check-in?) and is cheezily nice during a painfully slooooow build up. Then, once up in the air, in a confined space, surrounded by strangers, he immediately starts threatening the vacuous, if super-efficient, Rachel McAdams and saying tosh like 'we got ya daddy, do what I say, or poppa gets it'. Well, forgive me, but didn't they already have her daddy ready for slaughter-so-you-better-oughta long before she stepped on the plane and therefore wouldn't it have been oh, sooooooo much simpler to simply snatch the gal off the street and terrorise her in a room somewhere, forgetting the complicated and insecure dad plot, pulling her nails out or whatever until she made the all important 'call' required? Or even - cos this is the movies and we need a few unreal twists - keep the dumb dad-in-distress thing intact if you must, but dress it up better so that holding him in harms way until the convoluted plot had been concluded made some sense, without the plane dumbdown? Alternatively, without wanting to sound like an actual thinking terrorist/assassin - couldn't the massive bazooka-missile thang employed have been far more easily used on, say, a car driving down the highway, with the politician inside, rather than the 50th story of a Miami seafront hotel, from a fishing boat (mind you, as we already know, security in Miami is lax, so they'll speed away)? I know, I know, far more fun to go through watching a pretty girl for 8 weeks, burgle her dads house to steal his wallet (that somehow - star trek style - gets transported from Miami to Texas instantly) in order to - perhaps - get her to arrange for a politician to change hotel room and, and, and... Well, a thousand things could go wrong here, each one entirely destroying the Big Plan, so why not slim the elements down to a sensible handful, such as - 1. bazooka. 2. car. 3. boom! My 50 minute drive home from the cinema was spent highlighting the abundance of flaws and stupid cod-Hitchcockian twists, which sadly was the best fun of the whole sorry experience. And as for security back at Miami Airport... we have an apparently crazy and violent girl running off a plane, chased by cops, who during the chase sits down to have a coffee, moves elsewhere to read a magazine at a bar, then runs again like crazy up and down the whole terminal... by now also chased by crazed Cillian Murphy (no CCTV then? - I had guns pulled on me for parking in the wrong place for 10 seconds at Miami Airport a couple of years back). So instead of speaking to the cops - her allies - or getting on the blower at a call-box direct to her dad to warn him his life is in danger, McAdams prefers instead to steal a People Carrier off a family in the Airport forecourt (call the damned security...) and drives home to daddy, mowing down the assassin with the vehicle in the front garden of the house, in a rich neighbourhood-watch district, crushing the front porch in the process - an act which actually slightly wakes dad up from an afternoon snooze, after about a minute, yet which somehow fails to register with neighbours who aren't even mildly curious, thus ensuring 15 more minutes of hide and seek shenanigans as the duo run around the vast Hollodeck type house... Dohhh, it actually hurts to keep thinking about it all - Cillian (surely renamed Silly 'un for doing this one?) preposterously turns from ice assassin to comically unhinged (and inept) lunatic killer at the end, this theoretically ruthless despatcher of human life now allowing the dad to live so that he can watch his daughter getting her goose cooked. I'd better stop, because the stream of drivel I'm writing here must sound as uncoordinated as the Red Eye script. If Ms McAdams hadn't been allowed to get on the plane in the first place the title could have been altered, from 'Red Eye' to 'No Eye, Dear'. RR Class: 