Conspiracy theorizing is fashionable stuff these days: It's been effectively utilized
as either outlandish improbability turned wonderfully dry humor (Gerry Daloney's
"Hey pal, did I overhear you say you've got a friend that's missing?" character
in Slacker) or substantiated fact (Waco: The Rules of Engagement).
The combination of the two, though, in Scott Large's and James Murray's Central
Standard Time results in a boorishly taxing and longwinded rant. The film's cast
of twentysomething militia characters treat the most incredible of international
governmental arrangements as fact and then spew them out without the slightest hint
of self-deprecation for their collective inability to see that the simplest explanation
might be the best. So instead of dialogue, the result is more of a drawn-out collection
of diatribes, and they are the toughest kind of diatribes to sit through because,
well, the joke isn't funny anymore. Throw in gratuitous gun usage and some sexuality
(in fact, Eddie Daniels' innate lustiness is the most interesting thing on screen
from about minute five to minute 25) with a thin narrative that erupts with a predictable
apocalyptic flair and the project is complete. And that's really the weakness of
Central Standard Time, not that its subject matter is based on fashion and
fashion is inherently transitory, but that it's just not a remotely interesting story.
--Michael Bertin
Film Vault Suggested Links
The Edge 
The World is Not Enough 
Passion in the Desert 
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