Wide-eyed, deadpan and, more often than not, note-perfect.

The most devastating spoof of reality TV since Albert Brooks' 1978 "Real Life."

A satisfyingly nasty piece of work so black and cruel it's often more sick than funny.

Minahan wants us to see ourselves in the dark mirror of this outrageously funny satire. He's built the laughs wisely so they stick in our throats.

Smith and Fitzgerald are funny, feisty, poignant, and altogether realistic. Will they end up lovers, friends, side-by-side corpses? Their sharp performances make Series 7 as frighteningly addictive as crack, or even "Survivor."

Whether Series 7, filmed on digital video for less than $1 million, is reactive or prescient doesn’t change the fact that it’s a dead-on parody of the form.

Ferocious satire.

A gritty, immediate, down-and-dirty satire with a down-and-dirty look.

Unpretentious and brashly exploitative.

As entertainment, such dark material can only stretch so far, and Series 7 comes awfully close to being as numbing as the genre it mocks. But its power can't be denied.

The murder as entertainment premise of Series 7 is proof that even the blackest of humor is no longer particularly outrageous.

Series 7 does exactly what independent cinema should -- challenge audiences while it entertains.

This gory parody hits television where it hurts -- and draws blood. It will bring joy to the heart of anyone who hates TV.

The movie's mimicry of reality TV clichés is eerie, from the use of re-creations and supplemental footage (especially the experimental video Dawn and Jeff made together for a high school art project) to the smarmy commentary.