you know what, i view movies with my heart and not my head, the intellectual analysis of my feelings comes afterwards, i probe my mind and allow my thoughts over why i feel such adoration or hatred or even apathy to a work of art. now my first instinct is to tell you that kurt russell plays post apocalyptic basketball to save his life while being poisoned by The President of the United States of America and that a crowd of leather clad extras chant Snake over and over again when he fucking nails that shot, and that this sequence isn't even close to my favourite part of the movie, that the pure emotions that ran through me were overwhelming joy and happiness that john carpenter got millions of dollars to make something this fucking weird and wacky while also being one of the most nakedly political and critical films about modern day america and the institutional imperialism and hatred that the nation is built upon, and that somehow remains relevant to this day. but my critical analysis side of me just says "this shit is fucking awesome, five stars baby, look at kurt russell surfing that motherfucking tsunami woooooooooo" so going with both sides of my psyche here