Take your pick, my friends: romanticizing stupidity, demonizing the counterculture, trivializing history, or boring the shit out of more discriminating audiences. America, Oscar, and just about everybody, it seems, were dead fucking wrong about this affront to good taste, cinematic nobility, common sense, and the simple process of being entertained. Tom Hanks, angling for a Nobel Peace Prize or something, has never been worse and will not be removed from my shit list as a result. Outside of the fact that there is no reason whatsoever to give a shit about someone so blissfully retarded and narcissistic (“Why don’t you love me,” he asks, as if one had to explain that it was sick and twisted to date a man with severe brain damage), I hate this film with a white-hot intensity because it endorses -- not implicitly, mind you, but with big fucking capital letters -- the reactionary idea that ‘tis better to coast through life without an education, the power of reason, or a social conscience, lest you get AIDS and die like the atheistic, egghead dog that you are.