Adriaan's Reviews

I can vividly remember the first time I saw After Hours at the cinema on its release in the Eighties. I remember feeling completely exhausted at the end. The level of tension created in this nightmare tale is almost unbearable. Its a story that plays out over one late night in NYC about a young man who stumbles from one accidental incident or encounter to the next and gets more and more deeply into trouble. Its directed by Martin Scorsese, although its seldom remembered in lists of his great films. Its said to be at least partly autobiographical reflecting the time of his life when he was trying to get The Last Temptation of Christ made, reflecting the series of problems that cropped up on the way to getting that film made. In any event, its an absolute cracker of a movie. I was delighted to rediscover it on DVD. It still has the power to completely draw you in.

Here's what can only be described as a bit of dark fun from Roman Polanski (1967). Its the story of an unlikely couple being held captive by an even more unlikely invader in the form of Lionel Stander's bumbling gangster, Dickie. He and his doomed partner are on the run from some misdeed that has evidently gone horribly wrong. His partner, a completely surreal looking Jack MacGowran, dies from a "belly full of holes" shortly after arriving at the gloomy and inhospitable Rob Roy castle. Donald Pleasence, with a shaved head, plays George, the utterly emasculated husband of the delicious and very young Teresa (Francoise Dorleac). George has sold up his factory and moved with his new young wife to this forbidding and remote castle, where they are subsisting on a diet of eggs from the chicken house and where George is slipping slowly into madness. Teresa is so bored that she takes to drinking her home made vodka with Dickie and helps him to bury his partner in crime. As can be expected it all ends rather badly. Despite a rather bleak premise, Cul-de-sac is quite funny in parts and certainly sustains your interest. The cinematography is clever and some scenes are head-spinningly surreal.

A wonderful, light, sexy, intelligent love-letter to Barcelona and the joys of being young and in love from Woody Allen. What a canon of work Woody has given us over the years. You can always feel sure that, regardless of the purpose of the journey or the destination, if you take the trip with Woody it will be an enjoyable one. Many may find the ending of Barcelona unsatisfying, but most will enjoy the film and the company of these four delightful characters. All four of the main actors are excellent, interesting and engaging. The stand-out for me is Rebecca Hall as the straight laced Vicky, although the Oscar nomination has gone to Penelope Cruz for her portrayal of the passionate and somewhat unhinged Maria Elena. Javier Bardem is very engaging as the likeable Juan Antonio, a character that could not be more distant from his Chigurh in No Country for Old Men last year. A movie that will make you want to move to Spain and take up painting.

A very well told story of greed in the mold of Wall Street. It?s about a young bloke called Seth who runs an illegal casino in his New York apartment. He does it well, keeps the punters happy and makes a lot of money, but his Dad, a judge, understandably has a problem with his choice of career. So in an attempt to find a more acceptable line of work Seth signs up at a Long Island stock brokerage called JT Marlin. Ironically JT Marlin is more crooked and does far more damage than his casino ever would. JT Marlin essentially pushes shares in worthless companies and dodgy IPO?s over the phone to well-off but generally financially clueless investors. Seth becomes very proficient at making sales over the phone. Ben Affleck plays the older broker who is already rich and a now recruits new blood to the firm. Vin Diesel is another senior broker at the firm. It?s an interesting and solid cast, including Ron Rifkin as Seth?s father.

Raise the Red Lantern, nominated for an Oscar for Best Foreign Film in 1992, is a film by Zhang Yimou about the lives of concubines in China. It follows the story of Songlian, the young and beautiful fourth wife of a wealthy older man. She lives, together with the other three wives, each in their own house set around a courtyard with the house of the ?Master? at one end. The household has long established traditions that the concubines must follow to the letter. At a certain time each afternoon they stand outside their doorways awaiting the Master?s decision on which wife he will favour with his presence that evening. Once the decision is announced by the head housekeeper red lanterns are lit in and around the house of the chosen wife. It?s a beautifully shot film. Yimou uses the perfect symmetry of the house to great effect and the shots of the courtyard that reflect the changing seasons are beautiful and evoke a peaceful atmosphere of routine and stability that stands in contrast to the underlying conflicts between the wives. It?s a well told story. The DVD version that I watched had the worst English subtitles, but even this did not detract too much from my enjoyment.

A Tom Ripley film, based on one of the five Ripley novels by Particia Highsmith. Ripley has featured in a number of films, notably Wim Wender?s American Friend and The Talented Mr Ripley where he is played by Matt Damon. Here John Malkovich takes a turn and the result is the best and most chilling Ripley of all. Ripley is a charming psychopath (perhaps also the model for Hannibal Lector), who consistently gets away with various crimes including murder. He is ruthless to the point of being amusing. There is a scene that borders on slapstick, at the end of which three bodies are piled up in a train lavatory. Ripley quips: ?It never used to be so crowded in first class?.

I couldn't help but feel a little sympathy for the old rancher in Shane, who is desperately trying to drive off the pastoral farmers whose fences prevent him from herding his cattle up and down the valley. After all, he would have been the original settler on the land, would have driven off the pesky redskins and made the place safe for the farmers and their families. None the less, the movie makes no bones about who the bad guys are here. The rancher is portrayed as a good for nothing drunk surrounded by gun toting henchmen. In rides Shane, a mysterious stranger, no slouch with his gun and fists, to save the day. He's a complex little gun-slinger, slow to bait and almost effeminate in his ways, but deadly in the ultimate conclusion of his involvement with the hapless farmer folk. Shane is an important and trend-setting Western, paving the way for many other lone gun-slinger-to-the-rescue movies. Of course, this is another Western, like the Magnificent Seven, that harks back to tales of the Samurai. Alan Ladd is excellent in the role and the scenery of the Grand Tetons a pleasure to look at.

I always enjoy Jim Carrey, if only he could get a script that does full justice to his comedic talents. He is at his best when he can give full throat to the dangerously energetic slapstick of which he has proved himself the master. He needs a script that provides for powerful internal conflict ? see Mask or Liar Liar for excellent examples. The premise of Yes Man seems promising, if rather close to that of Liar Liar. Jim plays a man (Carl) stuck in a deep rut who commits to a self-improvement routine which requires him to say yes to everything. Predictably this leads to some funny and, in the case of the sexual advances of a little old lady, rather disturbing, situations. Equally predictably Carl meets the girl of his dreams, Allison, played by Zooey Deschanel (the girl of everyone?s dreams). From here on its all a bit predictable and the movie loses it edge quite early, plodding on to a by-the-numbers resolution. Carl?s boss is played by Rhys Darbey (Murray from Flight of the Conchords) complete with Kiwi accent. Interestingly I see Rhys?s next role is in a forthcoming movie by Richard Curtis (Mr Bean, Four Weddings, Love Actually, etc), called The Boat that Rocked, about an illegal radio station in the North Sea in the 1960s and starring no less than Philip Seymour Hoffman, Emma Thompson and Kenneth Branagh! I can hardly wait.

A very clever film about con artists. Directly and partially written by David Mamet (The Untouchables, Glengarry Glen Ross) it stars his wife, Lindsay Crouse, as a psychiatrist who comes to the aid of a compulsive gambler and is led my a smooth-talking grifter (Joe Mantegna) into the shadowy but compelling world of stings, scams, and con men. Once you understand the mentality and motivations of the people involved it?s quite easy to predict how it will all turn out. Nonetheless its fun watching it all unfold. It one of the relatively few movies shot in Seattle and the rainy city streets provide an apt setting.

The Director of The Lady Eve, Preston Sturges', own life is almost as unlikely as the plot of The Lady Eve, which is a highly enjoyable screwball comedy with Peter Fonda and an absolute cracker of a performance from Barbara Stanwick. Sturges was born into a wealthy family and at various stages of his career he was an inventor (he invented a kissproof lipstick, Red-Red Rouge, in 1920), a stage-hand, a US Army signal officer, a screen writer (although he died in 1959 one of his works was filmed as recently as 1984 ? Unfaithfully Yours, with Dudley Moore and Nasstasja Kinski) and, of course, a director. Stanwick plays a beautiful card sharp, at first intent on fleecing the boyishly na?ve, Peter Fonda, but then falling in love with him. It has all the twists and turns of the inspired screwball and some well timed slapstick.

Its certainly a fascinating film. Although I did not hugely enjoy watching it, it has stayed with me. I have thought back on these characters and their motivations and have replayed some of the scenes in my mind many times. I did not find Jeanne Moreau's character likable. She seemed to me self centred and not deserving of the love of these two friends, Jules and Jim, whose friendship and lives are ruined because of her. I found it hard to believe that two attractive, sophisticated men would bother with her. Still, there is much to like about Truffaut's famous new wave offering. There is undeniably a lightness about the way the story is told, which still seems fresh after almost fifty years. I can imagine it causing a stir in 1961. Its the perfect parable of the 6os. Starting off full of fun and adventure and ending in tragedy.

Pool hustler Fast Eddie Felson is not only one of Paul Newman?s greatest roles but also one of the greatest and most vividly remembered roles in movie history. The credibility and integrity of his portrayal of the talented young pool player is beyond question. It?s a pitch-perfect movie. It tells of Felson?s internal struggle, failures and ultimate redemption through a series of brilliantly filmed episodes set mainly in dingy pool halls, hotel rooms and apartments. The pool hall scenes are wonderfully atmospheric. Shooting in Black

A great action movie, but not at all a Bond film. Let?s be clear, there is little to complain about with QoS as an entertainment. The action sequences are breathtaking, the acting is top-notch, it has a reasonable, if someone convoluted plot. But it has almost nothing that makes it a Bond film. Bond has been stripped of all the things that make him Bond. The wit, the style, the gadgets, the locations (the action takes place in some glamorous spots, but due to the close cropped filming of the action we get to see very little scenery), the martinis, the cars (ok - there is an Austin Martin at the beginning but its pretty much destroyed before we get a chance to look at it). The irony is that Daniel Craig is a great (perhaps the best ever) Bond. I don?t believe that the impact of his performance would be diminished by lightening up a little. Previous Bonds, particularly Roger Moore, appeared to be enjoying themselves. It?s a hard job being a secret agent, but there was time for some enjoyment. Craig is all work and no play. He can hardly go to the loo without killing someone. There are plenty of secret agent movies that cater to the desire for hard action, character development and other sophisticated characteristics that QoS has in spades. But Bond does not need these things. He is unique and must remain so. I know that many Bond fans share my view on the latest instalment. I really hope that the holders of the Bond franchise will take note and that Bond really will be back.

Peter Bogdanovich?s Last Picture Show was made in 1971, but it looks in all respects, bar one, as if it were made in 1951, the year in which it?s set. The one exception is the directness of the sex scenes and the amount of nudity, which would never have been possible in 1951 and were even controversial in 1971. In particular Cybill Shepherd?s strip tease on the diving board must have raised a few eyebrows at the time. The film is set in a truly bleak Texas town, where the only distractions, a run down pool hall, all day diner and movie theatre, are all owned by one man, Sam the Lion, played by Ben Johnson. Sam is the only man in town who seems capable of rising above the grinding boredom and desperation of the place that has dragged the lives of all the other residents down to a stifling routine punctuated by uncomfortable and meaningless sexual encounters. The film works on many levels, as a simple story of small town mores, to a quite complex commentary on the changes that occurred in American society during the 1950s. Regardless of how you watch it, it?s interesting, worthwhile, if not very enjoyable, due to the depressing themes. Great performances all round.

This is a strange little movie. made in 1944 by Otto Preminger, who both produces and directs. It stars a very young Vincent Price and a not so young Clifton Webb. They really are the stars despite top billing going to Gene Tierney and Dana Andrews, whose characters seem mere foils to the camp Webb and country bumpkin, turned playboy, Price. The plot is highly unlikely. Its twists and turns seem contrived and yet this is great fun to watch. Its all very stylish, set in luxurious New York apartments and played with great drama.

PIXAR studios can do no wrong and their latest offering is no exception. Wall-E is unquestionably a masterpiece of animation. It may also be a great science fiction movie. It is certainly a great children's movie and one that most adults will also enjoy. PIXAR's achievement here is to tell a story of quite complex ideas with almost no dialogue in an enjoyable and highly entertaining way. There is no question that it demands more of the viewer than the average animation, but a little thought and concentration will be richly rewarded. The miracle is that PIXAR has created two characters, Wall-E and Eva, that despite having no recognisably human features, are not only able to convey a huge range of emotions, but in fact have a terrific romantic chemistry. This is frankly astonishing. The set pieces are magnificent. The scenes on the devastated, garbage strewn Earth have a fascinating beauty and the space ship is a wondrous sight of bright, gleaming technology. I could go on praising this movie, but I think my eight year old son said it best: "It was funny, sad and very cool". Indeed.

Martin Scorsese?s Kundun is about the early part of the life of the 14th Dalai Lama. It begins some years after the death of the 13th, when the new incarnation of Buddha is ?discovered? by a travelling monk in the form of a four year old boy. The boy demonstrates an uncanny knack for identifying the previous Dalai Lama?s possessions, selecting them among other similar items and saying: ?mine, mine?. The film is not hugely satisfactory as a narrative, but it is rewarding as an insight into Buddhism and the trials of Tibet. It is lovingly shot with incredible attention to detail. I was struck by the scene of monks creating a sand painting, a large and intricate design, painstakingly created from different coloured sand. The creating of the painting is weaved into key scenes at the beginning and end of the film and at the end it is swept away. The perfect art form for a religion which so strongly embraces that nothing is permanent.

Colonel Blimp is originally a British cartoon character. The cartoonist David Low first drew Colonel Blimp for Lord Beaverbrook's London Evening Standard in the 1930s: pompous, irascible, jingoistic and stereotypically British. Low developed the character after overhearing two military men in a Turkish bath declare that cavalry officers should be entitled to wear their spurs inside tanks. The Blimp character in the movie is a far more loveable character. One Clive Wynne-Candy, played by Roger Livesey, he embodies all the virtues of the English soldier and gentleman. In fact, the movie is an ode to Englishness. Made at the height of the Nazi threat to England in 1942 it?s a convincing demonstration that the allies had a lot worth fighting for. Deborah Kerr plays three roles, that of the girl who marries Clive?s German dueling partner and later friend Theo, that of Clive?s own, younger wife, and later his WREN driver when he heads up the Home Guard during the Second World War. Her characters remain young while all those around her age. It?s quite a surprising film to make in the midst of war. It encountered strong resistance when first released from no less than Winston Churchill. When Churchill questioned the Austrian actor Anton Walbrook about the film he famously replied ?'No people in the world other than the English would have had the courage, in the midst of war, to tell the people such unvarnished truth?. It?s a cracker of a film. Entertaining and at times quite moving. ?The war starts at midnight!?

A great big adventure romp, with one of my favourite adventure actors, Brendan Fraser. This one is meant to be seen in 3D and I?m sure that would make it even more fun. Nonetheless, we didn?t catch the 3D version and it was still very worthwhile. A good yarn, lots of being chased by dinosaurs, fighting off man eating plants and some very freaky flying fish. The boys loved it and Dad particularly appreciated Anita Briel as the female lead. Anita plays an Icelander and is the genuine article, as she was born there. I hope we see a lot more of her.

Unless you are a real lover of the period piece or perhaps a dedicated student of the Risorgimento period of Italian history I suspect you may find it a challenge to get all the way through this one. I made it about two thirds of the way through the ball scene at the end before hitting fast forward. I could hardly believe how much of it there was left. At just over three hours, The Leopard is a long film, but it?s not so much the length as the pace that is the problem. Nothing much happens, but it happens very slowly. Burt Lancaster was a controversial choice to play the Sicilian aristocrat who, realising that the nobles? grip on power is slipping, encourages his nephew (Alain Delon) to marry the mayor?s daughter (Claudia Cardinale). The mayor is not of the nobles, he (horrors) made his money from property development and is not 100% au fait with dinner party etiquette. I?m sure there is much symbolism here and indeed by the end of the ball we feel acutely the weariness of the aristocratic revelers as they put themselves through yet another tortuous Mazurka. Better value elsewhere.

This is Robert Altmans take on the private eye Philip Marlowe, the character featured in Raymond Chandler's crime novels. Marlowe is the ultimate film-noir private eye and has been played by a list of top drawer actors including Humphrey Bogart, James Caan, James Gardner, Robert Mitchum, Robert Montgommery and Dick Powel. Here it is Elliot Goulds job and he does it very well. A softer, slightly bumbling Marlowe, who stands out in trippy 1973 Los Angeles as a very square man in a suit and narrow neck tie. Marlowes values, which include loyalty and generosity, are impeccably established in the opening scenes, where in the middle of the LA night he drives to a store to buy his cat food, famously goes through an elaborate routine into tricking the cat into believing its eating its favourite brand and then unquestioningly drives a friend to Mexico. Its a cracking yarn, very funny in parts and with all the twists and turns you would expect. Mark Rydell is excellent as the evil and clearly unbalanced hood, Marty Augustine. One of my favourite parts is that the only song that you hear in the movie is The Long Goodbye, endlessly reprised in various forms.

My three young sons (10, 8 and 6) are fairly sophisticated cinema goers. They are probably allowed an above average degree of freedom in what they watch. So they have seen all the recent block busters, including movies that some may consider too edgy, such as Lord of the Rings and the new Batman series. So it is testament to the excellence of My Neighbour Totoro that this simple animation impressed them more than most. It is quite simply one of the best children’s movies you will ever see. It contains no violence, no villains and no real conflict. Yet it is spellbinding. It tells the story of two young girls who move with their father to a house in the country. They encounter some strange, but completely benign, creatures in the nearby forest. These creatures come to their aid when the younger sister gets lots on route to visiting her mother in hospital. As far as plot goes, that’s pretty much it. The characters are drawn in the well-known style of Japanese anime and so are not at all realistic in appearance, but very realistic in their actions. The backgrounds and settings are very detailed and beautiful. Look at the clouds and sunsets that are rendered in a watercolour style. The scenes in the rain are particularly effective. This film is from the legendary Hayao Miyazaki and the equally legendary Ghibli Studios. They have brought us other gems like Princess Mononoke, Spirited Away and Howl's Moving Castle.

Vivre Sa Vie (My Life to Live) – the life of a Parisian prostitute told in twelve distinct episodes in Jean-Luc Godard’s distinctive style. The girl is played by his wife, Ana Karina, who reminds one a bit of Louise Brooks, with her helmet of hair, porcelain skin and fine features. She deserts her child and husband for a chance at making a living in the movies. Of course, this never works out and she slips into prostitution, which seems a relatively easy option. The rules of the profession are laid our matter of factly in a Q&A session with her pimp set to a tabloid of her daily encounters. It’s all totally unsentimental and somewhat cold. The film ends unexpectedly and brutally. I didn’t find a great deal of satisfaction here. I expect there are hidden truths lost in the translation of the dialogue and Godard’s camera work is very clever and lends an unusual perspective.

I must have been pretty young when I saw Network for the first time, but I remember it having quite an impact on me. I particularly remember Peter Finch’s powerful performance as the TV anchorman slipping deeper and deeper into madness. I was particularly impressed that he was awarded a posthumous Oscar. Watching this again I find the premise of having someone assassinated just to get them off TV as a bit of a stretch. I find it hard to believe that the network would not be tied to the killing, particularly as they have signed an agreement with the terrorist group that carries it out. Still, this does not detract from my enjoyment of the movie. It’s a cracker. What a great performance from Faye Dunaway as the insanely competitive executive. Sadly most of us probably know someone like this. I particularly like the scene between Finch and the chairman of the media corporation in the boardroom (or “Valhalla” as the chairman calls it).

The X-files promises to be so much of what I enjoy in a movie: mystery, suspense, a conspiracy, action, all laced with supernatural overtones and mixed in with a little human drama. So I desperately "wanted to believe" that the new X-files movie would be a good film. Sadly, nothing could be further from "the truth", regardless of whether or not it is out there. This film is not just unengaging and dull, it is in fact monumentally and quite incomprehensibly bad. It could be one of the great stinkers of all time. Ignore for a moment the inane overall plot, which is never fully explained, and examine some of the more ludicrous elements. Scully and Mulder have now evidently been living together, in the biblical sense, for some time. For all intents and purposes they behave like an old married couple expect for one thing: they still call each other by their last names! Their relationship is indeed an odd one. There are long scenes in which Scully sprouts incomprehensible psycho babble in attempt to convince Mulder that....., well, to be honest its never quite clear what she is trying to convince him of when she delivers little gems like "I can't go home to the darkness anymore". Scully is now working as a neuro surgeon. We begin to doubt her skill level a little when she researches stem cell techniques by searching on Google! We have no reason to doubt her keen sense of observation though when, while driving past a row of tiny post boxes, at speed and in the dark and snow, she notices that one is numbered 252 and remembers that the psychic assisting with the case mentioned Proverbs 25, verse 2. Obviously this was the post box that would lead to the lair of the heinous Russian crooks who are busily grafting the head of their sick mate on to the body of a captured FBI agent. Seriously, it is this laughable! A terrible, terrible movie.

Stanley Kubrick’s Paths of Glory must be one the most effective anti-war movies ever made. Anti-war movies often run the risk of ironically glorifying war, as the audience gets caught up in the action. No such risk here. Paths of Glory is unflinching in its portrayal of conditions in the WWI trenches as hell on earth and battles as messy and brutal with very little glory to be had on either side. Kubrick shows no mercy whatsoever in portraying the French generals as monsters, utterly devoid of any trace of human decency. Kubrick’s anger at the waste and futility of war comes across loud and clear. His later Strangelove is a light touch compared with this. All the actors are excellent, particularly Kirk Douglas as the decent Colonel Dax.

It’s possible to draw some parallels between David Lynch’s INLAND EMPIRE and Ingmar Bergman’s Persona. In both the director won’t let us forget that we are watching a movie and he makes us question the role of the watcher, just as the actors are asking questions of their own characters or personas. The opening scenes from old silent movies reinforce the idea that what we are watching is a piece of craft, it’s not real, and so does it matter? Should it matter to those making it, those playing the parts or those watching? Where does the responsibility of each group begin and end? I suppose the film is asking, what makes a person, a person and what responsibilities do we have to act consistently with the persona we have established? Fascinating stuff and not at all as dry to watch as it may sound. The scene where Bibi Andersson relates her sexual adventure on the beach manages to be highly erotic without so much as a hint of actual flesh. The telling of this story is so real that I understand many people apparently retell this scene as though the action actually occurs, which of course it never does. The film is also famous for the use of newsreel footage of a Buddhist Monk setting himself on fire and the composition of scenes where the Liv Ullman and Bibi Andersson characters appear to come together.

I have a terrible admission: up until seeing Nights of Cabiria I have never really appreciated Fellini as much as I should. I suspect the problem has been that I watched some of his later films first, where many people believe he somewhat lost his way. I even found Dolce Vita and 8 ½ a bit (dare I say this) dull, although I am now keen to watch them again in light of my new found enjoyment. Cabiria has opened my eyes. It is a wonderful, touching and simple story. Giulietta Masina is exceptional as the waifish prostitute, Cabiria, who works the Archaeological Passage at night. The night time scenes are incredibly evocative of the unique atmosphere that Rome has at night. Its very hard to describe, but the feeling one gets walking around Rome at night is quite unlike anything to be experienced elsewhere. It has something to do with the grandeur and history of the place combined with a hint of wildness that no doubt comes from the passionate nature of the Italians. Masina channels Chaplin’s little tramp in the role. I know that sounds ridiculous, but, boy it works. It makes Cabiria a truly unique character, equal parts of street smarts and innocence, with an unbreakable lust for life and optimism. The ending seems desperately sad, but somehow we are uplifted by Cabiria’s ability to smile, despite her awful fate and circumstances. A magnificent film, which has renewed my interest in Italian cinema.

Louise Brooks – what a star she was…here in arguably her greatest screen role. Whatever the merits of the rest of the movie, I guarantee that you will not be able to take your eyes off Brooks. Her looks are somehow beyond our expectations of the human norm and she takes on an almost alien form. This sense of being above and beyond the rest of the cast is reinforced by her acting technique being years ahead of the silent era. You can easily imagine her in a modern movie, not something you can say about most stars of the silent age. But enough about the remarkable Ms Brookes, except perhaps to add that in later years she came back to the public attention as an excellent writer. Her collected essays on Hollywood entitled Lulu in Hollywood is essential and enjoyable reading. Pandora’s Box without Ms Brooks would not have made much of an impact on the cinema landscape. Its an odd tale which follows the ups and downs of a femme fatale and the men she leaves in her wake until she meets a tragic end at the hands of no less than Jack The Ripper!

The only movie directed by Charles Laughton who is more famous as an actor in movies such as Captain Kidd, The Blue Veil and Salome. It was a bit of a flop when released in 1955 and so presumably Mr Laughton decided to stick to his day job, which is a shame, because The Night of the Hunter is ground breaking. There had never been anything quite like it. A fusion of horror, comedy and expressionism. I don’t know whether David Lynch considers this film a source of his inspiration, but I can see clear parallels. Robert Mitchum is spot on as the smooth talking fake preacher man, who famously has LOVE and HATE tattooed on his knuckles. From a cinematographic point of view there are some very unusual and effective shots, such as Shelly Winter’s hair drifting with the water weeds after her body and car is dumped in the river.

A great sweeping western, with many intertwined themes: the encroachment of civilisation, a classic struggle for supremacy between a young and an older man, a character who starts off as a hero and ends up the villain as he fails to adapt and recognise his own failings. The grand, sweeping themes are match by the scenery and the action, as John Wayne and Montgomery Clift, take 9,000 cattle on the first epic drive along the Chisholm Trail from Texas to Missouri. The film suffers none of the squeamishness of later westerns. Here men are men, Indians are vermin to be gunned down mercilessly and women play only a very minor part. This is one of Wayne’s more complex roles and he must have found it a challenge playing against the understated Clift, but he rises magnificently to the occasion and it is one of his best films.

This was my second viewing of Michael Powell’s Peeping Tom, a 1960 English psychological horror film, starring Karl Boehm as the deeply disturbed young serial killer. I must admit that, like Powell’s Red Shoes (see below) this one also does very little for me. It was loathed on first release, being far too frightening and confrontational for the audiences of the day. It has long since lost its capacity to frighten and shock, which is of course more a comment on how we have become hardened to violence and terror, rather than a comment on the film. However, I’m afraid that without real tension the film is somewhat watery. It has admittedly a very clever premise i.e. that in watching something happen the voyeur is perhaps as guilty as the actual perpetrator of an act. It raises all sorts of interesting questions around the blurring of the line between viewer, actors and film makers. It portrays the role of the film director in an interesting and indeed somewhat sinister way. Trouble is that it is not very gripping and at the same time somewhat depressing, so, all in, not much fun to watch.

People will tell you that you don’t have to appreciate ballet to enjoy watching The Red Shoes. These are people who love the ballet and are on the scout for new recruits to their passion. If the movie is meant to work as a serious piece of drama it fails miserably. The characters, particularly the ridiculous Lermontov, a camp old queen with delusions of grandeur. Any real ballet star would beat the crap out of him. Most (all) of the characters are paper-thin caricatures. The most unintentionally amusing is Ivan played by the Australian, Sir Robert Helpmann, who must surely be the gayest man who ever lived. If you do not enjoy ballet you should stay well clear of this movie. In fact, I’d go further and say that even if you love Ballet you should approach it with caution. It may put you off for life.

I know many people will never forget the first time they saw Raiders. I know I never will. It was, believe it or not, at the drive-in. A mate and I had gone, not knowing or particularly caring much, about what movie was showing. It was just something we did on a Friday evening in the suburbs where I grew up. It was the year in which we graduated high-school. Raiders has the best opening sequence of any movie. I don’t think it can be surpassed. Within the first five minutes we were transfixed and in breathless rapture. All of our young male adventure fantasies had sprung to life, gloriously real and with kick-ass attitude. We were completely transported to another reality from which we would only reluctantly return, already longing for a sequel. I have often said that Raiders is my favourite film of all time. In fact I dither between it and Paris, Texas, depending on my mood. I have also, particularly after watching the trilogy again with my kids, begun to think that the Temple of Doom may in fact be even better. But, of course, Raiders will always be the original. Mad magazine’s parody of the film dubbed it “Raiders of a Lost Art”, a reference to the art of making real, and really good, adventure movies. An art revived and surpassed by this series.

I was a bit reluctant to watch this. The Middle East has been so effective in recent years at making its problems, the world’s problems. I am utterly weary of the whole thing and don’t really want to know any more. But I am glad I did watch The Kite Runner. It is an exceptionally well made film from Marc Forster based on the book by Khaled Hosseini. Forster is an astounding film maker and has also brought us Monster’s Ball and Finding Neverland. Here he is working with a very compelling and absorbing story. The cast are all excellent, the two young boys, Ahmad Khan Mahmoodzada and Zekiria Ebrahimi, deserving special mention. The action is mostly set in Kabul, Afghanistan , both before and during the rule of the vile Taliban. It packs an enormous emotional punch.

No point beating about the bush here. I have been a committed Indy fan for more than twenty years and I’m not going to stop now. It has been a long time since I have been as excited about a new release as this one. I don’t care what anyone says, I don’t see how anyone can be disappointed with Kingdom. Cold War conspiracies, rock’n’roll, giant snakes, Cate Blanchett as an evil Russian femme fatale, sword fights on jeeps racing through the jungle, a nuclear explosion, alien autopsies, quick sand, flying saucers, exploding heads and monkeys (lots). What more can a growing boy ask for? At the end of the amazing climatic sequence my five year old piped up: “Now, that really freaked me out!”. Indeed. The most fun you can legally have while sitting still in the dark.

Born Free, the 1966 film adaptation of Joy Adamson’s novel, is a great, heart-warming story of a couple who raise a brood of lion cubs and then set one of them, Elsa, free – back into the wild. It is a true story, of course, based on the experiences of Joy and George Adamson, when he was a game ranger in Kenya. Elsa and the Adamson’s go through a hard trial to get her accustomed to fending for herself in the wild after growing up in domesticity. It was the first time this type of release had been done. The Adamsons showed great ingenuity in how they went about it. The characters appear ludicrously stiff and formal, but this reflects the norms of the time the film was made, rather than any failing on the part of the actors. The scenes with Elsa interacting with lions in the wild are quite extraordinary and I can’t quite imagine how they were done. With great patience, I expect. Definitely a worthwhile movie and one the whole family can enjoy. Again, as with Out Of Africa, and other films that evoke Africa’s colonial past I cannot help but feel a certain sadness for an Africa now forever lost.

This is an excellent film from Spanish director Guillermo del Torro. It has elements in common with his The Devil’s Backbone i.e. children, war and the supernatural. Whilst at least half the film is set in the fantasy world of a nine year old girl, this is not a movie for kids. It is brutal and uncompromising in depicting the horrors of war and the cruelty of the Franco’s fascist army suppressing the resistance. The harshness of the violence is, however, necessary, as it magnifies our engagement with the characters. Ofelia is the little girl who finds herself in almost unbearable circumstances from which her only escape is into a world of fantasy. Such is the power of this film that we want to believe, as much as she does, that the fantasy is true. Del Torro’s message, which is subtle and not hammered home, is that the ultimate weapon against fascism is independent thought. As one of the characters says to the commander of the fascist troops: it takes a man like him to obey orders unquestioningly.

Iron Man may well be one of the minor superheroes in the Marvel stables, but Iron Man the movie is certainly not a minor movie. I fact, I am going out on a limb and calling it the best superhero movie so far. Robert Downey Jr’s Tony Stark has more character and attitude in his little toe than all the Clark Kents, Bruce Waynes and Peter Parkers put together. The back story to the creation of Iron Man is compelling and the action is real and convincing. The gadgets, cars (including the eye-watering Audi R8) and Stark’s Malibu cliff-top pad are all utterly cool. I even (contrary to popular opinion) like the Gwyneth Paltrow side-kick, Pepper Potts. My boys have not stopped talking about the movie. Word like “sick” and “awesome” have been bandied about.

Probably the best output from the paring of Scorsese and De Niro. It’s a movie that features some of the best and bloodiest fight scenes ever made, but its not really about boxing. Its about the dumb, bloody minded jealousy of the former prize fighter Jake LaMotta, a man with such low self esteem that he cannot accept that his wife would want to sleep with him or that she could possible not be having affairs with just about any other man. LaMotta is a real character who rose to be the middle weight world champion in the 1940s, but then sank into oblivion as a third rate stand up comic and ended up in jail for corrupting the morals of an underage girl. De Niro is completely committed to the performance, for which he won an Oscar. He became LaMotta, gaining weight to the extent that he looks completely different at the end of the movie.

Watching George Clooney’s Good Night and Good Luck, I could not help but think that so much of history is a series of blunders and misdirection of effort based on faulty assumptions and incomplete information. The film is about the 1950’s US witch-hunt for communist supporters, lead by the notorious Senator McCArthy. It’s so easy today to scoff at the Senator and his supporters, but at the time many people were scared by his fear-mongering tactics. Another thing that we misunderstood completely with tragic consequences is also portrayed in this movie: smoking. In this movie, befitting of its 1950s setting, everyone smokes, and boy, do they ever. Edward Murrow the TV reported around whom the story is built more or less vanishes behind a fog of cigarette smoke on his show. I have little doubt that one day we will look back and wonder how anyone could have believed that we could stop climate change by cutting back on carbon emissions, but that’s a story for another time. This one is a good and gripping story and it works very well in black & white.

No doubt a great book by William Golding, but this is not the greatest of movies. It is of course the tale of a group of school boys marooned on a desert island who lose all sense of moral direction and revert to savagery by the end of the movie. The ending is one of its biggest problems. It’s all over too suddenly and you are left with no satisfaction or resolution. Not quite enough is made of the “Lord of the Flies” either which is meant to be a sinister and menacing presence in the story. The name (probably) comes from the Hebrew word for the devil, Beelzebub, which literally means Lord of the Flies. I found the boys’ acting a little stiff at the start of the film, but on the plus side they seemed to settle in the roles as it went on.

I’m hardly going to criticise or even describe the plot. Well established as one of the greatest stories ever told and this 1968 film version by Franco Zeffirelli is one of its best tellings. It stars the lovely Olivia Hussey and Leonard Whiting who were 16 and 17 when the film was made. The youth of the leads is one of its best features. In the play Juliet and Romeo are 14 and 15 and yet they are mostly portrayed by actors at least in their twenties with a resulting loss of authenticity, but more importantly of youthful innocence and energy, which is so evident here. The balcony scene is an absolute joy to behold and comes to life as I have never seen it before. As a complete aside, this film reminded me of a movie I saw many years ago. I could not remember much of it, except that in the movie two of the characters go to see this film version of Romeo and Juliet. Through the miracle of IMDB I managed to figure out that the movie is called “Follow Me!”, although to confuse matters further it was also released as “The Public Eye”. It starred Mia Farrow and Topol and is set in London during the 1960s. Sadly, as I would very much like to see it again, it is not yet available on DVD. Let us hope it gets released, but in the meantime there are a few snippets posted on YouTube (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-8wj-f5vCqQ) which brought back many further memories for me.

This was written and directed by Cameron Crowe, the writer for Rolling Stone, whose own early life is portrayed in the more recent autobiographical film, Almost Famous. Mr Crowe must be a nice guy. Say Anything is about telling the truth and about being true to yourself. The three central characters are honest and decent, true to themselves and each other. John Cusack plays Lloyd Dobler, who is in love with Diane (Ione Skye). Diane’s father, played by John Mahoney, is not too keen on this young man who seems to have no concrete plans for the future. Mahoney is one of the great unsung heroes of the acting profession. He played Frasier Crane’s dad for eleven years and in Say Anything his is the most interesting and complex character. The movie ends on an aeroplane with a lovely touch.

Phillip Kaufman’s, The Right Stuff is the film adaptation of Tom Wolfe’s book about test pilots and the space race. Wolfe is one of my favourite authors, but strangely I have never read The Right Stuff. It’s an epic movie, in length and subject matter. Filled with wonderful performances, such as Sam Shepard as Chuck Yeager, acknowledged as the best test pilot of his time, and Ed Harris as John Glenn, the pioneering Astronaut and later US Senator. There are great scenes, such as the very effective opening which portrays a test flight gone tragically wrong. The format switches to widescreen and colour from black & white at the moment of impact. I often wonder whether Wolfe’s sceptical humour can be translated to the screen – here it is done well, not pointedly, but you can tell how these pilots would have rankled at the idea of being substitutes for monkeys. In the first space missions no pilot input was required, all they had to do was sit tight. This should not demean in any way the courage it took to go up in these first flights. As someone says in the movie: “The monkey doesn’t know its sitting on top of a rocket.”

A cracking Hitchcock thriller made all the better from an underlying current of creepiness. Two apparent strangers meet on a train and one suggests that they “swap murders” committing killings on each other’s behalf so that they both have watertight alibis for the deaths of the people they have a connection to, and a motive for killing. As is par for the course for Hitchcock the movie is full of innovative visuals. The one that stands out for me is of the crowd at a tennis match, where all the heads are moving from left to right watching the ball, expect for one, the villain watching the lead. Watch out for Hitch’s trademark cameo early on in the movie.

In introducing The Rules of the Game, Jean Renoir talks about the controversy that it caused at its first screening in Paris in 1939. Apparently one viewer was so upset that he wanted to set fire to the cinema and had already lit a newspaper to do so. This level of reaction is hard to imagine now, but nonetheless, the movie pulls no punches in its satirical examination of the mores of the bourgeoisie. It examines the interplay between the upstairs and downstairs worlds of the upper class country house, much as Robert Altman would do in one of my all-time favourite movies, Gossford Park, many years later. The Rules of the Game is a work of genius and often ranks just behind Citizen Kane as one of the greatest films. It is filled with great scenes, such as where the clownish Octave (played by Renoir himself) runs around looking for someone to help him take off a bear suit, and where Robert proudly displays his latest acquisition - a clanging, animated, clockwork organ. This was my second viewing and it’s a film that will clearly become more enjoyable every time you see it.

Another innovative Japanese movie from Akira Kurusawa, the first to introduce the concept of flashbacks from multiple points of view. This concept has subsequently been used in numerous movies, ranging from The Usual Suspects to the kids’ movie Hoodwinked. A nice touch is to use the effect of torrential rain to distinguish between the time in which the story is told and the time in which it actually takes place. I found the heightened aspect of the acting a bit off-putting, but otherwise it’s enjoyable and quite thought-provoking. Kurusawa wrote in his biography that: “ "Human beings are unable to be honest with themselves about themselves. They cannot talk about themselves without embellishing." That essentially is the central theme here.

A cracking heist movie from Director Jules Dassin. In fact this is considered the original of the heist genre. It contains a spellbinding, wordless thirty minutes, during which the robbery of an upmarket Paris jewellery store is shown in great forensic detail. The suspense is terrific. An added bonus is the great looking street scenes of Paris in the 1950s, another movie that allows us a little window into a time long gone. The odd title “Rififi” is French slang, meaning “rough and tumble” and is also the title of a popular blues song of the time, which features in the movie.

To quote my favourite film maker, Wim Wenders: “If our century still has any shrines…if there were any relics of the cinema, then for me it would have to be the corpus of the Japanese director Yasujiro Ozu. Ozu’s films always tell the same simple stories, of the same people, in the same city of Tokyo. They are told with extreme economy, reduced to their barest essentials. His films may be thoroughly Japanese, but they are also absolutely universal. I have seen all the families in the world in them, including my parents, my brother and myself.” Indeed, I have also seen myself, my own family and my parents in this moving and simply told story. The lack of artifice makes it all the more compelling. It is about how we escape the big truths of life through small talk and mundane busy-ness. We miss sharing our great joys and sadness; instead we talk about the weather. On another level it is about the destruction of the family through work and modernisation.

What a character Orson Welles created in Hank Quinlan, a giant of a man brought down by his own excesses and sorrow. He is the Sheriff who “never let another killer get away” after he failed to capture the man who, many years ago, killed his own wife. So he has taken to acting on his hunches and planting evidence to entrap whoever he suspects. This is Orson Welles’s last great movie and it was by no means a success when released. In fact the story is secondary. It twists and turns and never really engages, but this movie is all about its visual direction and the character created by Welles. It looks the business. He brings to life the sleazy after-hours streets of the Mexican border town where it is set. It contains the very famous opening shot where the camera tracks a car that has a bomb aboard in a long unbroken shot. Amusing to modern audiences is the absolute horror portrayed of narcotics. Even stubs of marijuana cigarettes are recoiled from in fear.

A thoroughly satisfying movie. Convincing performances from Denzel Washington as the utterly competent drug lord and Russell Crowe as the solid, uncompromisingly honest cop. Both men are exceptionally good at what they do. The Washington character could win any number of entrepreneurial awards conducting a legitimate business. He corners the market on heroin by following a text book approach that would impress any MBA graduate. Sell a product that is better than your competitor’s at a fraction of the price. Crowe on the other hand is the text book honest cop. He gets into trouble with his colleagues for handing in a bag full of drug money (apparently the standard approach is to dish it out amongst your mates). A good story, well told and based on astonishing facts.

What a sad loss it was to lose Heath Ledger so young. Here in this edgy little Australian thriller he plays a foot loose young man on the edge of a life of crime, with great sensitivity. It’s an unusual movie, involving touches of the supernatural amongst a grim look at the sleazy underbelly of Sydney. Bryan Brown and the other members of his gang of bumbling small time hoods bring a uniquely Australian flavour to the gangster roles going about as they do in short pants. It’s a gripping and exciting ride with a number of unexpected turns.

Clearly in the running for the movie with the longest name, but surely also being considered for the longest rambling preamble before it cuts to the chase. Whilst this is a strong story and its well-played here by some very competent actors, the lead up to the events surrounding James’s killing are so diffuse and rambling that it lost me along the way. The last hour or so is compelling, 4-star cinema, but it’s a long wait to get there. What this is, however, is another sign of the current resurrection of the Western, that we are seeing in promising films like this and 3.10 to Yuma.

Rarely a movie comes along that is so likeable that we never want it to end. The characters are so real and likeable, that we just want to hang out with them. It doesn’t matter whether much is happening or not. Such a gem, is Juno. This movie is the best advertisement I have seen for honesty. Everything about it is honest and true, even the soundtrack of quirky little sing-along numbers. Ellen Page as Juno is flawless. She is only 20 and surely must have a huge career ahead of her. Juno is genuinely funny, genuinely moving and flows as naturally as water. It is a joy to watch. I could have watched it again the moment the end credits started to role. In a season of bleak epics this stands out a ray of light.

The best thing about The Sweet Smell of Success is the New York street scenes from the 1950s. They shine like a neon dream and in crisp black & white look like an art print come to life. There is much else to like about this film, particularly the performances of Tony Curtis and Burt Lancaster. Lancaster is JJ Hunsecker, a powerful gossip columnist, modelled on a real-life columnist of the time, one Walter Winchell. If you find it hard to believe, as I did, that a gossip columnist can wield such power just think of the likes of Alan Jones and John Laws to put it in a contemporary Australian setting. These men wield great power from their bully pulpits and are no more than the gossip columnists of the day. Neither Hunsecker nor Falco, the character played by Curtis have a skerrick of morality and its not giving away much to say that they end up paying a high price. There are stylish scenes and much cracking dialogue to be enjoyed along the way.

Many consider this to be Werner Herzog’s best work. I’m not sure I agree. Whilst the wild young man played by Bruno S. is without a doubt an enigma, deeply strange and not a little bit disturbing, I’m just not sure that there is enough here to fill out the 109 minutes. Herzog’s films are notoriously slow and normally this is a good feature as one needs time to contemplate the striking images he presents and the complex underlying themes. With Kasper Hauser there just seems to be a little too much time. I loved the scenes of the waving fields of corn and the site of Hauser standing in the town square with his letter and prayer book is not one easily forgotten. The music is beautiful. Arguably no one other than Bruno S. could have played this role – it’s hard to imagine him playing any other as role as well. His performance is not so much acting as embodiment. This is not an easy movie to get through, but for those that persevere there are gems of insight to be had. The original German title translates as "Every Man for Himself and God Against All" and gives away a bit more of what the movie is about.

This is an unexpectedly sophisticated film. I shouldn’t be surprised having seen Nicolas Roeg’s Don’t Look Now a few years ago, itself a complex, multi-layered film that lends itself to multiple interpretations. (Odd that he has not done much since The Man Who Fell To Earth in 1976?) Walkabout could be enjoyed simply as a rather strange little adventure tale about two hopelessly English kids lost in the Australian outback who are rescued by a bush savvy Aborigine, but to really get the most out of it takes a little thought and analyses. At another level it could be meant to contrast the aboriginal culture against modern Western culture, but that also is an oversimplification. What it really seems to be getting at is the difficulty that we all face of communicating beyond the boundaries created by our culture and mores. All of the characters are somehow lost because of this inability to communicate, in some cases fatally so. The vastness of the desert serves as metaphor for the great chasms between us. There are a number of point blank shots of brick walls and cliff faces that reinforce this message, for those who may have missed it otherwise. The conclusion is bleak, but the move is very effective and will have you thinking for a long time after. As a Sydney resident since the 1990’s I was particularly interested in the shots of the city from the early seventies.

Jarvier Bardem has just won the Oscar for best supporting actor for his portrayal of an unspeakably evil man in this, the best Coen Brothers movie to date. The movie has also won Best Picture and the Coen Brothers took Best Director, all of which is well deserved. This is an enormously tense thriller. Its impossible to look away. The cinematography is beautiful, the suspense builds to almost unbearable peaks, the dialogue is utterly convincing, the characters fascinating. Whilst undeniably bleak, from a film-making perspective, there is very little not to like. It’s a powerful film – you cannot fail to be moved by it.

This is an undeniably a great performance from Daniel Day Lewis as the utterly ruthless oil tycoon, Daniel Plainview. He has the best actor Oscar nomination and my money is on him walking off with it. He is mesmerising in the role – like a train wreck in slow motion, you just can’t take your eyes off him. I have some doubts as to whether the rest of the movie stacks up with the lashings of praise that have been bestowed on it. It seemed a tad long and yet still over ambitious in the grand scope of the story it is seeking to tell. Apart from Plainview none of the other characters are particularly well developed. The very few parts of the movie where Plainview is absent tend to drag. But these are small quibbles and on the whole this is a grand portrait of pathological greed and heartlessness, leading to madness and destruction. Very cheery stuff.

Michael Clayton (George Clooney) is a “fixer” for a powerful law firm. It’s his job to clean up when one of the powerful clients of the firm or one of its own gets into trouble. He describes himself as a janitor, but he is highly valued by the firm, but not enough to be given equity or to be financially rewarded as well as its high-flying partners. Sydney Pollack, playing one of the senior partners tells him how lucky he is to have “found a niche”. This is a good movie and Clooney is terrific. The closing titles where he gets in a taxi, tells the driver to “give me fifty dollars worth, just drive” and then sits with his emotions and thoughts playing out on his face is masterful and like nothing I have seen before. It’s a shame sometimes that the media is so efficient at making us aware of an actor’s political views as the one quibble I have with this film is that it seems to suffer from a little left wing bias in that it seems to imply that large corporations routinely employ hit men and law firms have no mortal qualms whatsoever about the cases they take on. I’m even prepared to except the latter, but the former point is a bit of a stretch.

Umberto D is Director Vittorio De Sica’s precise, neat ex-public servant who finds himself and his little dog Flyke in increasingly dire straits. He cannot afford the rent of even the most basic room in a boarding house where the landlady rents the room out by the hour to shamefaced couples when Umberto is not there. If he cannot pay the back rent he will be evicted and as his only option then would be to live in a shelter he would have to give up his beloved little dog. This sounds like an enormously sad tale, and yes it is, and yet there is an uplifting aspect to Umberto’s unwavering dignity in the face of his increasingly desperate plight. There is one masterful scene where he finally succumbs out of desperation to begging and then finds that he cannot bring himself to do it or even expect Flyke to do so in his stead. It’s a deeply moving film, made in the neorealist style, without a hint of sentimentality and here this technique works well. The camera only observes and does not seek to dramatise, making the unfolding story all the more compelling. Umberto is played by Carlo Battisti a university lecturer who had not acted before. For all intents and purposes he is Umberto D, no performance is necessary.

“Badges? We don’t need no stinking badges!” Another great movie quote which is remembered not quite as it was in the movie. So says the bandit leader when questioned by Fred C Dobbs, the Humphrey Bogart character who becomes completely corrupted by the lure of gold in this great John Huston movie. It’s a great performance by Bogey especially as he tips over into madness, torn between his burning lust for gold and his conscience. Another great (Academy Award winning) performance comes from Walter Huston (John’s father) as the wise old prospector. John Huston also gathered Oscars for direction and screenplay for this 1948 adventure tale and character study.

As I was watched this the story and ultimate plight of young John McCandless (or Alexander Supertramp as he renames himself) left me somewhat cold. What an incredibly dumb thing to do, I thought. And the rambling travel and adventure that led up to his last days in a deserted old bus in the middle of the Alaskan wilds, seemed to me just as pointless as his end. But perhaps, in hindsight, I was feeling grouchy and tired at the end of a long day (I watched this on a flight home to Sydney from New Zealand), because as time has gone by I feel much better about this movie. McCandless story has stuck with me and his philosophy and uncompromising stance has made me think, which is after all what good movies are supposed to do. The self-portrait of the actual McCandless at the end of the film made me sit up and pay closer attention. Here is a true story which in all likelihood has been reconstructed with remarkable accuracy. I understand Sean Penn took great pains over interviewing the characters that crossed McCandless life in the period portrayed here. Emile Hirsch gives a completely committed performance and literally wastes away before our eyes.

I loved this movie. It’s an old-style western, a real shoot'em up, set in the time when men were men. Not a trace of irony, stylisation, excessive violence, spaghetti westernism or any of the other –isms that have infected the modern western. It restores the western to being about values and integrity. The actors are all excellent. Russell Crowe is perfect for this sort of role. Were the western still as popular as back then he would surely have been a modern day Duke. Christian Bale, an actor who never fails to deliver, is compelling as the struggling rancher who agrees to take the lethally dangerous outlaw Ben Wade (Crowe) to meet the 3.10 train to take him to Yuma prison in exchange for payment of $200 which will save his family farm from the debt collectors. This is a remake of the movie of the same title made in 1957 starring Glenn Ford.

This extraordinary film has won both the Prix d'interprétation masculine and the Prix du scenario at this year’s Cannes Film Festival, which concludes today. It is an unforgettable parable about honour and redemption. Guillermo Arriaga, the Mexican screenwriter also responsible for Amores Peros and 21 Grams, builds up a powerful story of what it means to be a man, perfectly played out against the starkly beautiful backdrop of the American-Mexican border country. This is the first film directed by Tommy Lee Jones, who also leads as the no nonsense Pete Perkins. He has done a terrific job, as have Barry Pepper and Julio Cedilo in support. January Jones is just plain yummy and very good as the bored, young wife of Barry Pepper’s rookie border patrol guard. The film has some moments of surreal madness, some involving a dead body, ants and a few litres of anti-freeze, but at its heart its an honest and closely studied drama with an ending that is uplifting and inspiring.

This is a love story of a young couple very much in love with each other and very much in love with heroin. It traces the impact of their addiction on their lives and relationship through three phases: heaven, earth and, finally, hell. At first I felt little sympathy with these characters. They are young, beautiful and seemingly intelligent. Why could they not pull themselves out of this spiral? But then you witness the wrenching scenes of withdrawal and realise that they are in the grips of a force far beyond their power to break. The film is set in Sydney, but it could be anywhere. Every scene is close-cropped on the characters, adding to the intensity of the performances. Abbie Cornish and Heath Ledger are both astonishing. Abbie shines and dominates the screen, but Heath’s character is more interesting, filled with conflict and ultimately responsible for the redemption and lift that comes at the end of this harrowing journey. This film will stay with you for a long time. It is resounding confirmation that the Australian film industry is alive and very well.

The very entertaining bit of school holiday fare is remarkable for two things. One is how it manages to provide human characteristics to the cars while still managing to make them look like cars and two, in that it packs quite a sophisticated message i.e. that good things are often lost in the name of progress. It has some very funny moments, notably the scenes involving the cow-like tractors and the Ferrari-loving tyre sales man/car. In a quick poll of kids in our little group, this movie seem to be score more highly with boys than girls, perhaps not surprising.

Sticking with movies suitable for the holidays, this is my favourite so far. I found the story engaging, which is very unusual for this type of movie and I laughed out loud a number of times. It is visually very attractive and, I think, the best animation since Nemo and Shrek. It has a stellar cast of voices including Nick Nolte, Bruce Willis, William Shatner, Garry Shandling and Eugene Levy, whom I always admire. Hammy, the super-fast squirrel is worth the price of admission alone, particularly when he is given a dose of a high energy caffeine drink to further boost his speed. Guaranteed to keep the kids happy.

This film is the punishment for when you are so lazy on a Sunday night that you end up watching whatever is on Cable. No one would surely watch something this bad on purpose. I have no excuse and deserve having lost an hour and a half of my time to this tripe. I had after all seen the banality of the original and should have been prepared for more of the same. Of course, #2 is much worse. The grain of originality in the concept of the tough FBI agent having to put on a demure and sophisticated façade is now old hat and we do not even have the small pleasure of Michael Caine’s company, as he sensibly excused himself from the sequel. The rescue scene stands out as the dumbest moment in a sea of stupidity. The feather boa getting caught and nearly causing our heroic agent to drown had me laughing out load and shaking my head in disbelief. Avoid at all costs. Re-runs of The Love Boat translated into Russian would be preferable.

This is a film by Paul Greengrass of the final hours of flight United 93, which went down in a field en route to Washington on September 11. It is thought that the plane’s target was the White House and that the brave actions of the passengers prevented the terrorist hi-jackers from reaching their goal. The story is told without any dramatisation or back-story, entirely as a fly-on-the-wall documentary. This approach is very effective at capturing the confusion of the time. The realism extends to using the actual people involved on the ground to re-enact their roles, notably, Ben Sliney, the man in charge of the FAA national center. This is a very intense film and some people will find it hard to watch. Whilst there is no dramatisation, we are not spared any detail of the actual events. A worthy document of these sad events and one that is respectful of the memory of the victims. United 93 was screened as part of the Sydney Film Festival.

This is puzzling. Why would two actors as likeable and charming as Vince Vaughn and Jennifer Aniston choose to play two such unlikeable and charmless characters as these? To be fair Aniston’s character is not so much unlikeable, as dull and dim witted. I found it entirely unbelievable that these two characters would ever get together in the first place and from twenty minuted into the movie I was rooting for them to break it off and move far away from each other as quickly as possible. There is little to laugh at here. Imagine two lesser known actors in the roles and you quickly realise that it is only star power that lifted this turkey off the cutting room floor. Dire. Not even worth a mention as a chick flick. Just as the Aniston character deserves a better boyfriend, chicks deserve better movies than this.

I always look forward to Adam Sandler movies. They are always good for a laugh. Trouble is, while this one has quite a few funny moments, it’s also scary and sad. Adam’s character receives a universal remote from the mysterious Morty, played by Christopher Walken, who is excellent as always. The remote really is universal in that it can control every aspect of his life. The message is clear that many of us fast forward through much of our lives by allowing day-to-day ‘busy-ness’ to crowd out the things and the people that are really important. This has long been a bugbear of mine. One of my favourite sayings is that no one says on his deathbed that he wishes he had spent more time at the office. So the movie struck a chord with me and if it encourages just one workaholic Dad to spend a little more time with his kids it will have been worth the making.

We took my 8 year old son, Marius, and twenty-five of his friends to see this for his birthday. Its a relatively low budget CGI animation, but tries hard to be quite sophisticated in concept and story. Perhaps a bit too sophisticated for its target audience. The over-riding comment from our group of seven and eight year olds was “weird”. Nonetheless, I think they enjoyed it. There were some very funny moments, from humour aimed both at the kids, as well as accompanying adults. Its a novel retelling of the Little Red Riding Hood story as a Noir detective story from multiple perspectives, much like Akira Kurosawa in Rashomon. If you find this hard to imagine consider that it also includes elements of Manga style surrealism in the animation. You can begin to appreciate why kids may find it weird. I enjoyed it. Its not punching in the same category as Cars or Over The Hedge, but its fine for what it is and quite original.

I watched the DVD of this magnificent movie a few nights ago and feel compelled to write something about it. I was barely out of high school when I saw Out of Africa on its first release. I had not seen it since and what a treat it was to revisit. I can remember choking up at the end, despite being a brash youth, when I saw it for the first time. Everything about this film speaks of quality. Meryl Streep and Robert Redford are at the hight of their powers and deliver perfect performances. The film is beautiful to look at. I could never tire of watching the African landscape scenes. It captures a time and place that is long lost and can never be regained. If there is anything even better than the acting and the cinematography, then it is John Barry’s wonderful musical score. There are few films of recent times that stand up to this.

Superman Returns is a well-made and entertaining film, but unfortunately it is part of an industry trend that I just have to have a little rant against. Please, please, can we stop these endless remakes and sequels? The Superman story is one of the all time great stories of our time, but it has been told, in a number of very good movies, TV shows, cartoons, comics, books, etc. There is no need to tell it again. The same applies to Batman (even more so), Spiderman, Dracula, Frankenstein, Jeckel and Hyde, Pride and Prejudice, and all of the other great stories that are dusted off and recycled with monotonous regularity. The time has come for movie producers to visit their local libraries and bookshops and discover some new, unfilmed stories. This cannot be so hard.

Clint Eastwood has made a good, but not a great war movie. Flags Of Our Fathers falls short of greatness due to a number of problems. One, it suffers from a difficulty common to many war movies. When you dress your actors in uniform and cover them with the dirt and detritus of war, it becomes very difficult to tell them apart. This is the reason, I suspect, that many war movies made use of a cast consisting mainly of household names. See for example The Longest Day (1962) which had Richard Burton, Sean Connery, Henry Fonda, Robert Mitchum, Rod Steiger. Robert Wagner, John Wayne, Paul Anka and many others. The idea is that you recognise these faces and care about the characters even after only a small amount of screen time. The problem with using unknown actors is the audience is not able to pick out and bond with the characters quickly and then doesn't care enough about what happens to them on the battlefield. This sounds callous, but it’s a fact of life. I’m sure Mr Eastwood deliberately used actors who are not instantly recognisable so as not to distract form the realism of the film. Not that the leads in Flags are completely unknown, but they are not internationally instantly recognisable. At least not yet. Secondly, there is the problem of it becoming increasingly difficult to shock audiences with battlefield gore. The opening sequences of Saving Private Ryan had enormous impact because it brought into the mainstream a level of realism that we had not seen before. Now, war film makers feel compelled to up the ante to keep up the shock value. They run the risk of going too far and crossing the line into schlock horror. A few scenes in Flags come dangerously close to this line. In my view these scenes were distracting and decreased, rather than increased the realism of the, on the whole, expertly staged, battle scenes. A third and critical problem is with the complexity of the story around the photo itself. I found it very confusing and must admit that I still could not tell you who was actually in the photo and who not. I also didn’t really understand why it mattered that much. I am reluctant to nitpick any further at a film made by Clint Eastwood, undeniably a pillar of the movie industry, but perhaps one last gripe. I think it was a mistake to shoot the film in near black and white. This, together with the extensive use of voice-over, gave it a rather old fashioned feel. This is such a shame as the prospect of a war movie directed by Clint Eastwood held so much promise. Here’s holding thumbs that all is made good by the forthcoming second instalment, Letters From Iwo Jima.

Borat is the funniest movie I have seen in years. It has been a long time since I have left a cinema knowing that I had missed a great deal of the movie because I was laughing too much. Even now, I can’t help but laugh again and again when I recall some of the scenes. Sacha Baron Cohen is without doubt a comic genius and a pretty brave man for making this movie, which must have involved putting his personal safety on the line numerous times. I understand the police became involved around 50 times during the making of the movie. Aggravating New Yorkers on the subway or making fun of the American national anthem at a rodeo is akin to Steve Irwin picking up deadly snakes by the tail in the wild. The creatures that Cohen disturbed may be even more venomous. The rodeo scene was the funniest for me, closely followed by the evangelists, although they were funny already without any help from Cohen. This is a movie that can be enjoyed as a series of outrageous toilet jokes or as a highly sophisticated satire on cultural and social issues. Take your pick, either way it defies review and has to be seen to be believed.

Akira Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai (1954) is an icon of Japanese and World cinema. It is the original action movie and Hollywood owes it a great debt. Quite apart from the obvious remakes, such as The Magnificent Seven, many action movie elements originated in Seven Samurai, from techniques such as dropping to slow motion in climatic battle scenes, to typical plot lines involving a band of disparate characters coming together to defeat seemingly overwhelming odds. Its essential viewing for film studies, but it also no hardship, as despite its epic 3 hours and limited dialogue, it tells a compelling story and tells it well. It is full of memorable images, notably the shots of Kikuchiyo, the suspect Samurai, who turns out to be a farmer’s son, in his stolen armour and headgear, brandishing his extra-long sword. The relationship between the Samurai and the farmers is one of the most interesting aspects and reflects the relationship that often exists between a civilian population and an external force of armed defenders. Currently we need look no further than how Iraqi civilians stand towards the coalition forces. They need them there, but at the same time they desperately want them gone.

I’ve just seen a special screening of Catch A Fire introduced by its Director, Philip Noyce. It is one of the best movies about the struggle against Apartheid that I have seen. The era and settings have been recreated with great accuracy and attention to detail. Even down to the television set on which the security police monitored their interrogations. It was an old Philips set exactly like the one my parents had when I was growing up. Philip spoke about the many advisors that contributed to getting the details right, including the ex-security police officer who helped Tim Robbins with his role. The movie was funded by Working Title, a vast departure from their blockbuster rom-com fare, such as Bridget Jones and Four Weddings. This is a true story about the life of Patrick Chamusso, convincingly played by Derek Luke, an innocent man turned into a terrorist by the very forces that tried to quash terrorism. Although I lived through this time in South Africa I cannot reliably vouch for the authenticity of the events. We were carefully shielded by state censorship from what was really going on. Philip mentioned that when the film was recently screened at the South African embassy in London many in the audience commented that this portrayal of the brutality of the regime was in fact too mild. The movie is yet to be shown in South Africa and he is expecting a mixed reaction. He was also concerned that the film would have difficulty ‘finding its audience’ and encouraged us to recommend it to our friends if we enjoyed it. I can do so without hesitation. Its at times a hard film to watch, but the ending, with its message of forgiveness, is uplifting and inspiring, as is the work that Patrick Chamusso continues to do with orphans at the Two Sisters charity that he founded (www.twosisters.org.za). It is based in north-east South Africa and supports orphans of the AIDS epidemic that is devastating much of the African continent. Patrick and Conney, his young wife, settled in Mganduzweni, a beautiful but poor town in the hills outside White River. A neighbour in their village died, and her two daughters were orphaned. Patrick and Conney fostered the two sisters. That was in 1999. Today they have 76 children in their care.

Just as I’ll never understand why Prefab Sprout failed to fill stadiums, why the 1970s Mercedes 450sl is not the most desirable collectors’ car on the planet and why anyone would drink any other red wine in preference to Chateauneuf-du-Pape, I’ll never understand why Wim Wenders does not routinely walk off with the best director Oscar having scored another blockbuster at the box office. I will never understand, but I have come to accept that it is a question of personal taste. For me, Don’t Come Knocking is pretty much perfection. Only ‘pretty much’ as it is not quite as good as Paris, Texas, which for me is the benchmark for movie perfection. There is nothing but good stuff in this movie. Each performance is likable in its own right. Sam Shepard is endearingly confused and ultimately childlike as the burnt out Western movie star. Jesicca Lange brings just the right combination of fire and vulnerability to her role as the small town waitress who has raised her son as a single parent. Tim Roth is the “Agent Cooper” style of character that sometimes pops up in Wenders’ movies. Think of the distinctly odd detective played by Mel Gibson in Million Dollar Hotel. Roth’s character is not as strange, but is perhaps even more extreme. He is cool and detached to the point of insanity and enourmous fun to watch. Of course, the images are the real stars of this show as with any Wim Wenders movie. Franz Lustig, the director of photography, who also worked with Wenders on Land of Plenty, has outdone himself. There are many scenes worthy of framing and mounting on the wall, but the one that stands out is of Howard Spence sitting in his hotel room above the deserted streets of Butte. It reminds one of an Edward Hopper painting, a frequent reference for Wenders. Wenders and Lustig have made Butte, Montana, where the second half of the movie is set seem a romantic and picturesque destination. Having been there recently I can vouch that this is no mean feat. But now I am keen to go back to walk the same lonely streets trod by Howard Spence and perhaps stop in for a Miller at the M&M. For me, every minute of this movie is enjoyable. I liked the music and even the final scene that ends on a road sign that reads: Divide 1, Wisdom 52. Not everyone will get it, but there is a rich seam of enjoyment here for those who do.

Tsotsi took out last year’s best foreign film Oscar and it was well deserved. Gavin Hood has created a profound tale of redemption out of the dusty shanties of Soweto. Tsotsi, very ably played by Presley Chweneyagae is a little thug (literally the meaning of his name) who sets out, with his small band, to steal something each day. He has no compunction about killing in cold blood to achieve his ends. He displays such disregard for human life that it turns the stomach of at least one of his band of thieves who confronts him and ends up taking a brutal beating for his trouble. Tsotsi’s path to redemption begins when he inadvertently kidnaps a baby in the back of a car he steals. He keeps the child, comes to care for it and it becomes the catalyst for changing him, if not into a good man, at least into a less bad one. Another well played performance is delivered by Terry Pheto as the young mother whom Tsotsi forces to feed and help care for the baby. I was surprised to learn that the Athol Fugard book on which this movie is based is over thirty years old. Of course, the story has been updated to fit the new South Africa, but still, it’s a bit depressing that things have changed so little. I found some of the outdoor scenes very evocative of the places where I grew up. I could almost smell the wood smoke on the air as Tsotsi sits on a rise in the early morning looking out over the Joburg skyline.

A whole new era for the Bond franchise? There can be little doubt that Daniel Craig’s Bond comes closest to fulfilling the wishes of those who have always clamoured for a Bond more true to Fleming’s literary character. Craig is entirely convincing as a hard-as-nails operator, quite capable, willing and apparently licensed, to kill at a moment’s notice. The movie is stripped down – gone are most of the gadgets and catchphrases, except for one which is very amusingly parodied. The fast cars and the gorgeous girls are thankfully still there. Although at one point Bond does drive a Ford, which must surely be a first and may be taking realism a bit too far. I enjoyed the movie and I think this is a necessary and exciting new direction for Bond. Necessary because the last Brosnan instalments had taken the gadgetry and stunts too far into the realm of fantasy. The invisible car and those ludicrous scenes where he “surfs” on a chip of an ice-berg spring to mind. Mind you, I can’t help wondering whether I might miss some of the polish and style of the old Bond.

Let me say straight off that I am a David Lynch fan. I think Twin Peaks was a milestone for television and Blue Velvet is one of the most powerful movies I have seen. Mulholland Drive was masterful. I was petrified at the end of that movie and I had no idea why. It awakened a deep, subconscious fear in me like only a really bad nightmare can. I am firmly in the camp that is prepared to give Lynch the benefit of the doubt when he wanders off into strange and seemingly inexplicable territory. His films are increasingly geared towards the subconscious. I have to admit though that INLAND EMPIRE tested even my patience. It is three hours of almost completely un-explainable cinema, with no discernable narrative or theme. One unrelated scene flows into the next and it seemed to me that an awful lot of time was spent slowly moving down dark passages or in cropped close up on the face of our heroine/victim? It is only in retrospect that I can begin to appreciate this film, which I think may indeed be a masterpiece well beyond my ability to truly appreciate in one sitting. The film stays with you for long afterwards. Even now I find myself thinking back on it at the oddest times. While watching it I felt the occasional chill run up my spine, a chill seemingly quite unrelated to what I was watching on the screen. I can’t wait to see this film on DVD. I believe there is much that I missed on the first viewing. It is ill-advised to dismiss any of Lynch’s work as opaque and non-sensical. He said himself that INLAND EMPIRE is meant to make perfect sense. I just don’t think he meant for that to occur at the level of consciousness.

Intended to be part of a double feature called Grindhouse, a homage by Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez (Planet Terror) to the B movie and the grindhouse (sleazy cinemas that played these dodgy double features). Death Proof, Tarantino’s contribution to the doube bill, now plays alone in an apparently extended form. It’s entertaining and proof that, even when he tries, it is hard for Tarantino to make a bad movie. I suspect the jump cuts, scratches on the print and reel that was accidentally shot in black and white, all of which was intended to enhance the grindhouse feel, are probably somewhat lost on an audience that does not know the background. Zoe Bell, the NZ stunt girl, who plays herself, is excellent and its nice to see Kurt Russell again.

An absolute wonder of a movie. Atonement, from the novel by Ian McEwan, is one of the best I have seen in a very long time. A rich and multi-faceted story, which starts off as light and elegant as a feather and plunges to the depths of despair and regret. A number of excellent performances, none more noteworthy than that of Keira Knightley, finally getting a role worthy of her considerable talent and great beauty. The cinematography is breathtaking. Great care has been taken over framing every scene of this film. One scene in particular, that of the Dunkirk evacuations, stand out as surely one of the great scenes of film history. As a portrayal of the surreal nightmare of war it is stunning. In one part a character stands in front of a film being showing on screen behind him. This type of scene has been used in many films, but it has never struck me as effective as here. It felt as though the character had stepped from the screen and become part of the audience. Whether or not this was intentional, I cannot say. For me that effect aligned with an underlying theme, that of the story teller and his or her relationship to the audience and the characters in the story. Is it kindness to provide a happy ending for your characters and hope for your audience or must one stick to an honest retelling however grim the outcome?

The initial visual effects provides for such a gripping background and atmosphere that the remainder of this film may have been doomed to be a bit of a let down. Sometimes it is all about the anticipation and the mystery. That is not entirely the case here. For me the film delivers all the way through, although the second half could not sustain the excitement of the first and the realism is somewhat lost once you have a chance to sit back and contemplate some of the larger credibility gaps in the plot. Nonetheless, this is a terrific movie. The effects are second to none and Will Smith provides another thrilling performance (but we would expect no less – he seldom disappoints). I Am Legend is a remake. It has two predecessors: The Last Man on Earth (1964) starring Vincent Price and The Omega Man (1971) starring Charlton Heston. Whilst I have seen neither I imagine they were very different films. When one thinks about it, the degree of “reality” made possible by CGI has really changed our expectations of movies altogether. We are rapidly getting to the stage where effects, even those as startling and realistic as in I Am Legend will no longer impress us. We will have come to expect that anything is possible on film. This is not a bad thing as it will demand more from moviemakers in terms of story.

Watching this with my young sons I realised how basic the effects must look to them having so far grown up in the CGI age. All the same I think they enjoyed it and I certainly enjoyed watching it again and not just for nostalgic reasons. The industry owes so much to these Spielberg blockbusters. They are referenced again and again. It is easy for me to recall the wonder that we once felt at Close Encounters, ET, Raiders, Jurassic Park and others. I have always loved the way Close Encounters builds up to its climax with the mysterious sounds and the shape of Devil’s Peak. Richard Dreyfuss is also one of my favourite actors, often underrated and here also he works hard at a convincing performance of a man obsessed, which is largely overlooked in the bigger picture. We watched the original presentation (1978) and not the later (1980) Special Edition. I would now quite like to revisit that version as well.

I saw this Jim Jarmusch cult “classic” at the Art Gallery last night. They present free screenings on Wednesday nights. I’m tempted to say that the price was just about right, but I think that would be unnecessarily cruel. Truth be told I quite enjoyed this strange ramble through the twisted Western landscape. It’s a slow journey – the duration of the train ride at the start of the movie is enough to test anyone’s patience. There is a lot of time to contemplate the mysticism and meaning of the movie and to admire the cinematography. The almost sepia black & white print works well and reminded me of those old photos of the West that you sometimes see with the odd looking Indians dressed in crazy combinations of tribal and modern clothes. I laughed a number of times and whilst this film will never set the world on fire I can understand why it has a solid cult following. Depp is at his quirkiest.

I saw this Jim Jarmusch cult “classic” at the Art Gallery last night. They present free screenings on Wednesday nights. I’m tempted to say that the price was just about right, but I think that would be unnecessarily cruel. Truth be told I quite enjoyed this strange ramble through the twisted Western landscape. It’s a slow journey – the duration of the train ride at the start of the movie is enough to test anyone’s patience. There is a lot of time to contemplate the mysticism and meaning of the movie and to admire the cinematography. The almost sepia black & white print works well and reminded me of those old photos of the West that you sometimes see with the odd looking Indians dressed in crazy combinations of tribal and modern clothes. I laughed a number of times and whilst this film will never set the world on fire I can understand why it has a solid cult following. Depp is at his quirkiest.

Akira Kurosawa’s darkly comic classic about a lone Samurai warrior, who after the fall of the feudal system in Japan, wanders into a small town and becomes embroiled in a deadly feud between to local gangs. It’s a fascinating combination of eastern and western (real wild western) themes. It’s the classic lone gunslinger plot set in a village in Japan. The plot is almost identical to A Fistful Of Dollars. There are many other parts and techniques in Yojimbo that have been copied by later film makers. Near the start there is a scene of a dog making off with a severed hand in his jaw – lovingly reprised by David Lynch in Wild at Heart. The black and white cinematography is excellent, capturing perfectly the desolation of the besieged town and the tension between the opposing parties.

A stark, but compelling work by Ingmar Bergman. So simply shot and what seems to be such a simple story, but layered with meaning and words that will have you thinking for days. Algot's monologue on the Passion of the Christ, and the two monologues where Tomas and Marta reveal their true feelings for each other, are immensely and deceptively powerful. The mundane and boring become fascinating - take for example the long sequence of the service at the start of the movie. It seems incredibly mundane, and yet you can't look away.

Dudes, this is one awesome movie. I expected to find this terribly dated and a bit dull, but on the contrary, it is a fascinating glimpse at an era and a valuable record of a very special and exciting event. The music is played with such enthusiasm and raw talent. Joe Cocker in tied dyed tee-shirt, playing air guitar and belting out With A Little Help From My Friends should be vaguely ridiculous, but its not - it sounds so right and amazingly vital and fresh. The biggest surprise is just how primitive it was. We have come such a long way to the concerts and festivals of today, but there is no doubt that we have lost much of the joy and innocence of the times portrayed here. I was struck by the obvious camaraderie. One scene stands out, at the end of the first day as quiet falls over the throngs of people. I found it a little disapointing that the film does not follow the chronology in which the acts appeared - but this is a small gripe. It is, for its time, an extarordinary well made concert film. The sound is excellent and the musical numbers well balanced with background story and shots of the crowds.

It may seem strange to talk about science fiction when discussing this 1961 drama and police procedural, but that is exactly what it reminded me of. You know, the type of science fiction film where the political and legal structure of the world has changed in the future to such an extent that it is barely recognisable from the world we inhabit today (think 1984, but also countless others). The time in which Victim is set, at least to the extent of its subject matter, is unthinkable in the modern context. It is set in the time when homosexuality was against the law in the UK and US. Most people, like me, will be staggered to learn that homosexuality was only made ‘legal’ in the UK in 1967. Up until then, the law prohibiting homosexuality was known as ‘the blackmailer’s charter’ as it provided such a lucrative lever over a vast section of the population. During these times more than 90% of blackmail cases involved gays. I found this so incredible that I had to check the facts, thinking at one point that the whole plot was a work of fiction. This is a fascinating film for the insight that it provides into those times and events, not just in the subject, but also its location (London). Quite a few scenes provide glimpses of the city in the early sixties, which are fascinating – note the motor garage and petrol station on Fulham Road, Kensington, just down the road from the Michelin building, which then probably sold tyres and now houses the swanky Bibendum restaurant. The performances are spot on. I have not seen many Dirk Bogart movies, but intend to rectify that omission.

Sam Peckinpah’s epic western shoot’em up. Highly controversial when first released in 1969, this is still quite a violent offering. It marks the departure from the Western of old where gunfights produced not so much as a skerrick of blood and there was a nice clear delineation between goodies and baddies (often down to the colour of their hats). In The Wild Bunch it is fairly hard to take sides. The robbers, led by William Holden, reveal themselves to be men with a fair degree of heart and integrity, whilst the law, represented here by a band of incompetent bounty hunters led by Robert Ryan, seem to lack any degree of backbone and display reprehensible behaviour. The exception is Robert Ryan’s character, but it turns out he used to operate on the wrong side of the law himself and would probably feel more comfortable back in the saddle with the bunch. Finally, we can at last all unite in hatred of the truly despicable Mexican generalissimo and take delight as he and his army are summarily and bloodily dispatched by the Wild Bunch, before they too join the seemingly endless litter of dead bodies on the ground at the end of the movie. William Holden is particularly effective as the ageing gunslinger, looking for a way to earn a living “beyond his guns”.