Critiquing the Critics

Last night I watched the original version of 'The Manchurian Candidate,' and was fascinated by the story of brainwashed POWs trying to piece together what they are not supposed to remember. Frank Sinatra was brilliant as one of the two leads (which I was surprised about, I assumed he was just cast because of his fame; similar to Britney Spears being cast in 'Crossroads'). The other lead actor, I thought, was as wooden as a lead tree, but I was willing to overlook that because of how intriguing, and crucially, entertaining the story was.
However, this optimism, to what I thought was shaping up to be one of the best films I had ever seen, was ripped away from with the vitriol of Liam Gallagher on a speedball with a stupid 'inside man' twist.

I hate 'inside man' twists, which is why I haven't watched 24 since it was declared that Nina was the inside man in the first series.
The 'inside man' twist in The Da Vinci Code (the book, not the film, I am avoiding that on principle that I will not pay to see films I expect to be shit), cemented the books increasing crappiness in one (page-or-so-long) chapter.
The first Saw film was built on an interesting premise of the killer who never really kills his victims. The low-budget gorefest was entertaining as well, and did have an intelligent twist in the plot, which was fascinating - until they ruined it with the 'inside man' angle.

Having ranted at length, I shall go back to my original point. Roger Ebert, one of the most distinguished critics in America, considers 'The Manchurian Candidate' to be one of the finest films in America, despite the fact, that he cheerfully acknowledges that the plot is pure hokum;
"Do not look for logic here."

Ebert, in my opinion is of that category of film reviewers who think that because a film is old, it means its automatically better than anything released today of the same caliber.

Consider Phillip French, the writer for the Observer. He can barely write a review without name-checking half a doaen films from throughout the history of cinema, to conclude that they were all better than that which he is currently writing about. This is the entire copy of his review of Sixty Six;

"Very briefly, Sixty Six is a likable Jewish comedy about a London lad whose bar mitzvah coincides with the 1966 World Cup final. As his father, Eddie Marsan is too convincingly sad and pathetic to raise laughs, and the film is not quite in the class of Jack Rosenthal's classic TV movie, Bar Mitzvah Boy."

Anyone who can point me in the direction of a critic who doesn't employ such hypocrisies would be most thanked. I've heard that Mark Kermode maintains a certain continuity in his critical style (for example, giving Basic Instinct 2 a good review, because it stuck to it's genre's formula).