I was never trained to write reviews for an international audience.
My college degree, officially, describes me as having earned a B.A. in Interactive Multimedia Art with a minor in Film Studies Communications, which essentially means I took painting, drawing and design classes, learned how to convert those skills into digital form and also took a set of film and journalism classes. In retrospect, it's almost the perfect curriculum for a career in producing a show like Escape to the Movies, though that's strictly serendipitous - "Web Series Movie Critic" wasn't really a career that existed until several years after I'd graduated.
I bring this up to set the proper timeframe for my own period of instruction in how to do my job. I was attending journalism classes at the point where web journalism was still not a terribly mainstream presence. Oh, it was big and it was already revolutionizing the world in ways that wouldn't be readily apparent for a few more years, but it wasn't what people thought of as "real" journalism. Real journalists worked for newspapers, magazines and TV shows. They clutched tape recorders and scribbled in notepads, not on laptops. Internet reporters? Feh. They were either amateurs, dilettantes or discredited lowbrow sleaze like Matt Drudge.
Because the internet wasn't "serious" yet, aspiring journalists were mostly being taught to operate in an only slightly faster-paced version of the business as it had existed for most of the 20th Century, particularly in the sense that the scope of your prospective readership was to be understood in geographic terms: If you wrote for a local paper, you were mostly writing for your neighbors. Write for a big paper? You were writing for your whole region, maybe your whole country. Really big paper? Maybe - maybe! - you could expect some international readers, but they'd be the "worldly" sort that likely understood (and expected) the American idiom when reading news from America. All of these were especially true if you were reporting on or critiquing entertainment.
But the idea that my first gig as a professional film journalist would find me filing columns and videos from my home in Boston for an outlet operating out of North Carolina to be consumed by viewers from Asia, Africa, Europe, South America and The Middle East in addition to North America? Nope, we never covered that.
As such, I remain a little amazed by how many of my reviews are met with a certain amount of anguish from readers outside the U.S. who're being made to wait many months to see the new releases I'm reviewing, or wondering why I'm not covering films that they've already been watching for weeks but I won't get to see for another month.
From the moment the majority of motion pictures began to be produced with sound, it was customary (and also the only logistical option) for movies to be released in different countries at different times. There was a production component to the delays, certainly - dubbing, subtitles, etc. - but in reality it was always all about timing for maximum profits. It's a fact that certain movies do better at certain times of the year: Big action/adventure movies do better when children are on vacation; "middlebrow" dramas do better in the fall; minor horror films hit theaters at the end of summer so they can be on DVD in time for Halloween, while major horror comes out just before Halloween; "women's films" are generally aimed at winter months, when it's assumed their audience is already out shopping (a head-slappingly sexist assumption, to be sure, but one grounded in entrenched memories of a not-too-distant era when head-slapping sexism bent society to its schedule). Movies expecting to be up for Oscars come out in the fall, so that The Academy's ancient membership will still remember having seen them when they vote in the winter.