The decision last week by the Irish Film Censor, Seamus Smith, to refuse a certificate to the new Oliver Stone movie, Natural Born Killers, highlights once again the arbitrary, archaic and repressive nature of the movie censorship system in this country.

The film, which was originally due for release here on November 18th, has already won rave reviews in the U.S. where it has also been doing very healthy box-office business. Starring Woody Harrelson and Juliette Lewis, it tells the story of a young Bonny and Clyde type couple who wreak national havoc with an armed crime spree that ultimately transforms them into prime time TV heroes.

Warner Brothers, the distributors of the movie, intend appealing the Irish Censor’s decision. The Natural Born Killers body count is high, but really no higher than that found in many recent comparable Hollywood releases. However, the film has become the focus of particular attention primarily because its screenplay was written by Reservoir Dogs/Pulp Fiction wunderkind, Quentin Tarantino (who, unhappy with Stone’s direction, has actually distanced himself from the finished movie) but also because it has been implicated in a number of so-called “copy cat” crimes in the States.

With only the slimmest of evidence linking the film with this handful of incidents, incidents that in a U.S. context are an everyday occurrence anyway, reactionary elements in the American media have stirred up a storm of righteous indignation about the “insidious” and “malevolent” effects of the movie. Before Quentin Tarantino, they seem to be arguing, there was no such thing as crime in the U.S. of A.

In Ireland, it is especially ironic that a film which seeks to examine and expose the way in which violence is often glamorised and its perpetrators mythified should itself become the victim of outdated sensibilities that do nothing but add further mystique to the very things that the establishment claim to be protecting us from.

But then, perhaps Seamus Smith just didn’t understand the movie. Maybe he misses the point of every film he sees. We shall never know, because Mr. Smith refuses to believe that he has any responsibility to explain his decisions to mere members of the public.

When Hot Press contacted the Censor’s office and requested a brief interview with Seamus Smith, the response was extremely frosty.

“I’m afraid you can’t speak to Mr. Smith,” insisted a spokeswoman. “He’s at a meeting and it’s not his policy to discuss his decisions.”

So, he doesn’t think he should explain to the general public why he’s refusing this film a certificate?

“No, he doesn’t.”

Why not?

“I dunno, it’s just a policy he’s decided on and that’s that.”

But he’s supposedly censoring films on behalf of the general public. Doesn’t he feel that we have a right to know just what it is he’s protecting us from?

“No.”

That’s a bit heavy-handed, isn’t it?

“That’s the way it’s been happening all the time from way, way back.”

And Mr. Smith doesn’t propose to be any more open or accountable than his predecessors?

“No.”

Are the criteria by which Mr. Smith makes his decisions written down somewhere where they would be open to public scrutiny?

“No, no, no. It’s his decision. He makes the decision on it. If it’s appealed then the Appeal Board have to decide whether or not they agree with him.”

It would be laughable really if it weren’t so serious. Quentin Tarantino himself certainly seems to find this kind of thing more than a little amusing. Asked recently what he thought of the UK and Irish authorities ongoing refusal to sanction a video release for Reservoir Dogs, he declared: “I kind of get a kick out of it actually, because they’ve kept it in the theatres. As a movie geek, that’s kind of fun, because once a movie comes out on video, it kind of loses a little bit of specialness.

“Nothing makes a cult wither away quicker than accessibility.”