Back in '86 I saw Oliver Stone's graphically intense ‘Platoon’. It was opening in a brand new theater with a screaming sound system that made you feel as though you were in the center of the battle. Sitting right across the aisle were two well-dressed, young, absolutely moronic parents who had their son sitting between them. He could not have been more than five. Stone's ultra-intense Vietnam War masterpiece had the audience thoroughly keyed up. Roaring artillery and wholesale slaughter were coming from every direction without warning. The poor little one was horrified and jerking with every explosion. A scene where a cocky young soldier beat a childishly simple young man to death with the butt of his M-16 actually had the battle-weary audience laughing at a remark he made.

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