Man has everything. Man has the world at his feet, or at the end of his gloved fist. Man has money - not as much as he needs, but more than he should - and knows not what to do with it. Man has money for himself, and performs for a paying crowd, but not for charity. Man's charity is other men, defending their women, defending their country, defending their descendants, the carriers of their name. Man has a woman. Man defends woman. Man mourns woman. Man thinks woman exists to serve him, whether in comfort or in torment, and man alone experiences the grief of himself and his family when woman is taken from him. Man thinks woman belongs to him; man makes the rules, thus man is correct. Man must work, because it is what men do. Man is flawed, but man respects the system - if only the system respected man, in all his glorious manliness. Man tries, which is hard for man. Man succeeds, which is not hard for man, because man is man, and success belongs to man too. Man fights for girl who can fight for herself because it is his place, man works himself to the bone because it is his place, man defines the course of his life and of the lives of those around him because it is his place, the place that other men defined for him. Man is oblivious to why, because what sort of world would man live in if admitting to why exposed the deficiencies in man's plan for man's world, and what sort of review would this be if every sentence didn't begin with man? Man writes. Man designs. Man produces. Man directs. Man shoots. Man acts. Man edits. Man scores. Man watches. Man sees men being men, and women being boobs, men loving women, never loving men, men with everything, men with nothing... and yet everything. Man writes review. Man has everything. Man has the world at his feet, or just this movie, perhaps. Man kicks movie very hard into the dirt.
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