The Tomatometer rating – based on the published opinions of hundreds of film and
television critics – is a trusted measurement of movie and TV programming quality
for millions of moviegoers. It represents the percentage of professional critic reviews
that are positive for a given film or television show.
From the Critics
From RT Users Like You!
The Tomatometer is 60% or higher.
The Tomatometer is 59% or lower.
Movies and TV shows are Certified Fresh with a steady Tomatometer of 75% or
higher after a set amount of reviews (80 for wide-release movies, 40 for
limited-release movies, 20 for TV shows), including 5 reviews from Top Critics.
Percentage of users who rate a movie or TV show positively.
Too often dismissed as little more than a genre filmmaker, Samuel Fuller was instead one of the earliest and most uncompromising forces in American independent cinema. Noted for his tabloid-influenced storytelling style, breathless camera work, and extreme close-ups, Fuller was a pugnacious, tough-as-nails man whose movies reflect a uniquely personal vision; obsessed with themes of falsehood and deception, his films illuminated the cultural divisions at the heart of American society, depicting a grim, immoral world far removed from the placid surface typically on display in more mainstream fare. Celebrated as a genius by his fans -- and denounced as a sensationalist by his detractors -- Fuller was a deeply patriotic man quick to criticize his country's flaws, as well as a raw, anarchic filmmaker capable of moments of inexpressible beauty; such contradictions fueled and ultimately defined both him and his body of work, which continues to exert tremendous influence over such prominent filmmakers as Martin Scorsese, Quentin Tarantino, and Jim Jarmusch. Samuel Michael Fuller was born August 12, 1911, in Worcester, MA, and raised in New York City; at the age of 13 he quit school to work as a copy boy for the New York Journal and within two years was working as the personal copy boy of the tabloid's crusading editor, Arthur Brisbane. When Brisbane quit after an explosive quarrel with his boss, the infamous William Randolph Hearst, Fuller exited as well, briefly joining the staff of the New York Evening Graphic before moving west to accept a position with the San Diego Sun, where he became one of the youngest crime reporters in the country. While honing a brash, no-nonsense style of journalism, his job led him back and forth across the United States, interviewing notorious murderers and the like; he finally quit the position to pursue his wanderlust full-time, spending much of the Depression era riding the rails throughout the American South. In 1935 Fuller finally settled down long enough to write a pulp novel, Burn Baby Burn; other titles like Test Tube Baby and Kiss and Make Up followed in the years to come, many of them published under pseudonyms.Lured to Los Angeles in 1936 by a former editor, Gene Fowler, Fuller began his film career by ghostwriting the script to the Boris Petroff picture Hats Off; a year later he collaborated on Harry Lachman's It Happened in Hollywood before earning his first screen credit for 1938's Gangs of New York. Several other projects followed, but Fuller did not receive another credit prior to 1941's war drama Confirm or Deny; the following year he enlisted in the U.S. Army, serving as a corporal in the First Infantry Division, more commonly known as "the Big Red One" on account of their distinctive shoulder patches. He was also assigned to write a series of combat reports, and was twice wounded in battle, receiving a Purple Heart, a Bronze Star and a Silver Star for his bravery. Fuller's wartime experiences proved to be a major turning point, shaping and influencing his art for the remainder of his life; upon his discharge he returned to Hollywood, where his novel The Dark Page -- published in 1944 -- had been purchased by Howard Hawks. A film adaptation was not produced until 1952, when it was released under the title Scandal Sheet and directed by Phil Karlson.Despite steady work as a script writer, Fuller became increasingly frustrated with his lack of success in Hollywood; hired as a staffer at Warner Bros., he looked on helplessly as not one of his screenplays ever reached the production stage. When Lippert Productions approached him to author a number of low-budget Westerns, Fuller offered to work for scale in order to write and direct his own material; Lippert executives agreed, and in 1949 he delivered I Shot Jesse James, introducing his distinctive, close-up intensive cinematic style. Neither the picture nor its 1950 follow-up, the Vincent Price vehicle The Baron of Arizona, earned Fuller muc