Submarine films are among our favorites.

Of all the war film sub-genres, the constraints of a submarine film are often the perfect recipe for an ensemble success.

They don't require that you build big sets or get a bunch of old tanks running or find 10 copies

of the precisely correct Thompson sub-machine gun so that nooges like me won't cry in our met a

musil about how the bullet casings were wrong. You just build a cramp set out of

radiator pipes and Volkswagen speedometers, then you spray steam and French fry

oil all over a few great actors and then you spray steam and French fry oil all over a few great actors

and then you rock the set back and forth

while you shake the camera up and down

and you have the actors lurch around like they're on Star Trek.

Also, one guy has to drown to save everyone else, but that's it.

U-51 is such a turkey within this simple framework that watching it qualifies you for hazardous duty pay.

I say this with no relish, but this film holds the distinction of having been denounced

on the floor of the UK Parliament by no less than the Prime Minister Tony Blair with such

vehemence that it precipitated a written apology from President Clinton.

Okay, I say this all with considerable relish.

The screenwriter David Ayer later issued a general apology to the world for his script and said he wouldn't

write it again and then he drank Hemlock on Byron's grave.

Ugh, that other screenwriters would own their mistakes with as much dignity.

Let me say, this film was popular at the box office and critically lauded, which is further

evidence that neither yardstick is meaningful in the slightest.

Sure, maybe you enjoyed this movie and readily consumed two pork chops, washed it down with

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