The power that cinema can exert over us is a mysterious thing. There are moments when a film will reach out and grasp us by the temples, refusing to let our gaze drift elsewhere; forcing us to consider the sermon it has to preach. And make no mistake that the director serves as preacher, delivering his view of life and humanity through the silver screen while we sit and listen in the dark and quiet. On our part, it is an act of submission, sometimes foolishly so. The extent to which we submit and the strength with which the sermon is preached is where the mystery enters in. Why does one film utterly captivate me while another finds it repulsive? Why does one story stir me to the core while another can only summon a tepid indifference?

There is still a vast difference betwixt the slovenly butchering of a man, and the fineness of a stroke that separates the head from the body, and leaves it standing in its place … Neither is it true that this fineness of raillery is offensive. A witty man is tickled while he is hurt in this manner, and a fool feels it not.

• John Dryden, A Discourse Concerning the Original and Progress of Satire

From the ancient Greeks to 18th-century writers such as Jonathan Swift to filmmakers such as Stanley Kubrick, satire has long been an established part of our ability as a society to analyze itself, make social commentary a matter of public concern and even to cause change. But it seems that self-serious figures like George W. Bush and Michael Moore have perpetuated a culture of fear toward satirical hallmarks such as wit and subtlety, and that true satire is fast becoming an endangered species in mainstream entertainment.