Sam Raimi's a genius, and Darkman, in my opinion, is his finest hour. This is high-caliber dark humor, outrageously crazy fun, seriously fine craftsmanship, and one of a few works that exists in a genre all its own. Raimi gave utmost attention to every part of this film. The main triumvirate in this film -- Liam Neeson, Frances McDormand, and Larry Drake -- speaks for itself. But, on top of that, every bit part here is played by an icon. Case in point: the doctor who first finds Westlake / Darkman (a possibly two-minute scene) is played by Jenny Agutter who played Jessica in Logan's Run (for goodness sake!) and has gone on to a monstrously gigantic career (she recently secured the role of Catherine in Act of God). Julius Harris plays a gravedigger and has one, single hilariously memorable line; in response to "I don't see you doing much work today," he says, "He was in an explosion; wasn't much left; just a few pieces; it don't take much time to bury an ear." Hung Fat is played by the inestimably aura-creating Sonny Trinidad (you've seen him in more films than you can count as either a smiling, kind Chinese man or the epitome of evil Orientalism), and his right-hand goon is played the inimitable Toru Tanaka (WWF wrestling tag-team champion and bit-part extraordinair). Ted Raimi, who's made a career out of minor roles, completely makes his death the scene arguably the funniest death scene in this movie and perhaps one of the funniest death scenes ever. Nicholas Worth has been doing film since 1968 and was last seen in a 2003 Dune movie. And he's brilliant. As is everyone. In other words, Raimi creates a stroke of genius for everybody in this film. And every pan, every transition, every gag, every gimmick, every pause is well-thought out and memorable. WARNING: SPOILERS HEREAFTER: I call this film Demented Disney, because it is all-action, chock-full of amazingly arresting gags, and has a warm, fuzzy, call-to-the-heart type of ending. The film begins with an introduction to Robert G. Durant, a man who keeps a collection of his victims' fingers and whose favorite pet is a dead and stuffed, taxidermic rabbit. After listening to his enemy's finer points of threats and summarily blowing them all away (mostly due to his favorite sidekick who doesn't have a left leg but does attach a machine gun to his knee-cap) he says, "Let's listen to my points, now. One: I try to control my anger. [Cuts one finger.] Two: I don't always succeed. [Cuts a second finger.] Three: I've got seven more points." [Screeeeaaaaamm!] And, though you're cringing inside and you're stomach's clinched, you life in spite of your best intentions. Darkman's ability to take on others' identities, at least temporarily, allows for hilarious I-See-Him-Here;-I-See-Him-There scenes, the best of which is when Pauly, one of Drake's goons, is thrown out a window and a passerby, standing next to the car he lands on, screams and then turns around and sees, well, Pauly (actually Darkman posing as Pauly and getting a neat little giggle about it all); which causes her to scream even more. No one's ever been blown up more nastily: by the use of a chicken toy. And when Darkman's anger gets the best of him, he does grotesquely violent things. In one case, to secure a pink elephant he has been unfairly not allowed to have -- I mean, he knocked over those three milk bottles and all, and you're going to say he stepped over the line? -- , he gets poked in the chest by a carny man and wraps his fingers around themselves until they're bubblegum. All three characters scream in succession: the carny because of the pain; Darkman at what he's done; and Julie in shock of watching the man she loves do such a thing. And we, the viewers, are laughing out loud. And Liam Neeson pulls off a deranged, rage-fueled Tin Man dance with a funnel for a hat that's a cult classic to this day. And just how did Sam Raimi get the cat to act the way he did? Brilliant. I'm telling you; it's Demented Disney. In the end, though, it's a story about the human heart, victimization of the innocent, righteous anger, and poetic justice. You'll feel for Darkman and his plight by film's end. And it will have taught something about the world you live in. And, if you're a film student, you couldn't do better than to watch this film. Every element gets an "A" in film school. Trust me. And it gets an "A" in my book for the creation of the most unique character in any genre, whether that be film, books, comics, or cartoons. As to the "R" rating, it's for language only. Perhaps for violence. But because this was such a great story and such a meaningful work about love, truth, justice, isolation, and so many other things, I let my children watch it (after a discussion about the vile verbals). And they loved it. And I honestly think almost any viewer of great film will, too.