Film Reviews by Steve

Really strange range war comedy-western which feels like several unrelated episodes stuck together. It's known by film anoraks for Walter Brennan's third Oscar in five years for best supporting actor, which led to a change in the voting rules. But he just gives his standard performance. May as well give it to Gary Cooper's horse.

It begins as a long whimsical conversation between Judge Roy Bean (Brennan), and the nonconformist saddle tramp (Cooper) he intends to wrongfully hang. This is mostly about the lawman's obsession with Lily Langtry, which apparently is factual. Then it morphs into a battle between the homesteaders and the cattlemen...

And then a weird climax where the hanging judge is gunned down in an empty auditorium where the Jersey Lily is booked to appear. It's a mainstream western, so there's a gunfight, a punch-up and a bashful romance. There's everything but a theme song by a vocal group of Irish baritones.

Cooper tried to get his role cancelled, then left the studio directly afterwards. And it shows. It's also astonishing that this mishmash was directed by the illustrious William Wyler! Still, it's a popular b&w western which passes quickly and fairly painlessly. And the anoraks may be charmed to briefly glimpse the beautiful Lilian Bond as Langtry.

Like many directors, Christopher Nolan's first commercial feature is a neo-noir. Normally this allows for some preliminary artistic visuals on a low budget. But apart from a counter-narrative in b&w this isn't the case. There is no expressionism. But there is an exploration of genre themes and motifs.

Most obviously, there are the ostentatious flashbacks; the whole raison d'être is the backwards narrative. And there is murder; a male dupe and a femme fatale; a hero who can trust no one; and a pervasive aura of futility and paranoia. The extensive voice over narration pulls it all together, but there isn't much literary polish...

And the dialogue lacks sparkle. Guy Pierce plays a bereaved husband searching for his wife's killers... with the significant impediment of having lost his short term memory. The performances are functional, but limited because the characters are cyphers designed to serve the concept. The gimmick is the whole show.

The story told forwards would be of little interest and the trick only really works once. Continuity must have been a challenge, but there are no obvious glitches. There's a moody score and the usual locations suggestive of transience: bars, motels and diners. It's an interesting experiment which should appeal to curious noir fans.

Glossy remake of La Femme Infidèle (1969) which is quite faithful to the plot, but considerably alters the emphasis and mood. The French original is a psychological thriller, and this is more of an erotic melodrama. It's a date picture for grownups who can explore the provocative theme of adultery afterwards over dinner. Plus there's the chic lifestyle decor to aspire to.

Diane Lane plays a contented housewife with an attentive husband (Richard Gere!), a spirited kid and a lovely home in the suburbs But she's become a bit of a nag and isn't doing much with that college degree. She loves her family but is in a comfortable rut. When she literally runs into a sexy Frenchman (Olivier Martinez) with a Bohemian loft apartment, well what's she going to do?

Except her adultery sets in motion a chain of consequences which may take away everything she has. Lane is extremely good and wasn't flattered by her Oscar nomination. Though her co-stars don't make much of their conventional roles. Naturally, Adrian Lyne doesn't do suspense as well as Claude Chabrol. It lacks subtlety and is loaded with clunky symbolism.

The major debit is it botches the brilliant climax of the original, because it supposes the audience will not appreciate its unspoken implication. But presumably, the twist is why there is a remake at all! Still, it works as an entertainment. There's a tasteful soundtrack and it looks gorgeous, with its love triangle of beautiful people and just a shade of neo-noir. 

Another tale from the neighbourhood... Martin Scorsese directs the memoir of Jake LaMotta, the Bronx Bull, former middleweight champion of the world (1949-51) and a legend as the boxer who put Sugar Ray Robinson on his back. There's a strange clash of styles, with the neorealism of the b&w photography, but also the sinuous, poetic Oscar winning montage.

Plus all the slo-mo artifice of boxing as ballet. Scorsese benefits from the landmark portrayal by Robert De Niro which is famous for his obsession with authenticity, including the massive weight gain and real-life boxing contests. The action is phenomenal and Scorsese/De Niro really communicate just how primal LaMotta was at his considerable peak.

But most of the suspense is generated by the anticipation of this violence bleeding into his personal life. The script apparently soft-pedals on this, and we mainly get the incessant verbal bullying of his wife (Cathy Moriarty) and his idiot brother/manager (Joe Pesci). But some is physical. The raging bull also threw fights and later sold booze to kids. 

Scorsese saw it as a redemption story. But the champ's arc is from delinquent, to wife beater, to bum. This is not tragedy. When Jake and his brother are in long, vacuous conversation, it could almost be comedy. But for the brutality. It has value as an amazing looking boxing picture and for De Niro's 4real performance. But this is not entertainment.

Everyone knows this is the third film to win the big five at the Academy Awards. Which was well deserved for Jonathan Demme's hyperkinetic direction plus the outré performance of Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lecter, the imprisoned flesh eating serial killer who may be able to help the FBI in their investigation into another psychopathic murderer...

Jodie Foster was also recognised as the anxious but intuitive FBI recruit who liaises with a convict so threatening, his entire world has been reduced to zero. So he lives inside his massive intellect. The Oscar for the screenplay is more contentious, as there's not much the scriptwriter can do with the narrative from Thomas Harris' bestseller which falls apart under modest analysis.

Still, the direction, the rapid editing and ostentatious characterisations mostly obscure the flaws. There's a genuine frisson of Hitchcock going on. And the fetish/gothic feel to the incarceration of Hannibal (the Cannibal) sustains a palpable sense of jeopardy all the way. There are some extremely compelling set pieces... Including Lecter's incredible escape...

...And the nerve shredding climax, which is shamefully manipulative, but still, a blast. It's a landmark horror-thriller and a must-see work of suspense. Though it's apparently controversial for its critical portrayal of a transsexual. By the way, has anyone else won an Oscar with a performance as restricted as Hopkins; inside the cell, often behind a mask?

Maybe not quite at the level of the Wallace and Gromit short films for the dose of sweet joy they impart, but the much loved claymation duo's first feature is still extraordinary, and the animation even a little more sophisticated. And it successfully sustains the magic formula over a longer format. Our heroes are still funny, and uncannily heartwarming!

It was made for DreamWorks, so there is a pair of proper stars for the publicity. Helena Bonham Carter is the lady of the manor who Wallace has a crush on, and Ralph Fiennes his idiot rival. But it doesn't compromise on the quintessential Englishness. Thankfully, Peter Sallis returns to voice Wallace. And it is dense with quality puns and other dad jokes...

The inventor and his companion are in business protecting local gardens and allotments as the annual prize vegetable competition approaches... But Wallace disastrously gets his pest control apparatus mixed up with a brain moderation gadget and creates a giant... well, a were-rabbit. The science isn't clear... but it's extremely hungry.

Gromit must save the day, again. The suits didn't like its parochialism and dropped the Aardman contract. Even though much of this was inspired by Universal horror. Still, it's a milestone in screen animation both in terms of craft and content. And a family film that appeals to adults and children alike. Yet it's more; W&G make the world seem kinder, and more charming.

Nostalgic WWII memoir approximately based on the experiences of its writer/director John Boorman as an 8-11 year old during the London Blitz. With the men away, he grows up among the females. His mother is middle class, but hardly Mrs. Miniver and has little control over the boy who runs wild with his gang among the bomb-sites...

...While his incredibly self absorbed 16 year old sister gets pregnant by a Canadian soldier. There's a likeable performance from 11 year old Sebastian Rice Edwards as the boy who lives in his imagination more than the realities of the home front. Sarah Miles is appealing as the mother. There is a palpable impression of an actual family.

This is very like Woody Allen's Radio Days, released the same year. It's mostly an ensemble comedy with period atmosphere from popular songs and newsreel. And it's incredibly moving at times. There is generational stuff about how these events changed those who lived through them. And their unassailable patriotism.

The best moments are loaded at the front, during the Blitz. The later scenes on the river with grandad are amusing, but don't have the emotional pull. The period detail is accurate, but this is not realism; the real hardships are filtered out. It's an account of the unusual freedom and adventures of one too young to see the big picture. 

Critically adored '90s neo-noir skilfully adapted from James Ellroy's even more labyrinthine crime novel about corruption in the LAPD after WWII. This is set in the early 1950s and there is plenty of rich period atmosphere and weaves a few real life incidents from the bad old days into a fictional account of vice, murder and narcotics in Hollywood.

It begins as an investigation by three contrasting detectives into the murders of an off duty cop and a sex worker fixed up to resemble Rita Hayworth. Then is complicated when the threads lead back to their own department. Kim Basinger won an Oscar as the agency's Veronica Lake lookalike. Plus there is a well chosen support cast...

But the screen is dominated by the three stars. Guy Pierce is the square jawed but devious new recruit with an instinct for self advancement. Russell Crowe is a kind of a battering ram in a cheap suit. Kevin Spacey is a showbiz cop who liaises with television and runs a blackmail scam on the side. His death scene is truly phenomenal.

 There isn't much subtext, aside from how out of control the LAPD got, which maybe relates to present times. The sexism/racism/brutality is off the chart. This is an articulate, complex, hardboiled crime story. The voice over, the smoky jazz score and the '50s LA production design make this feel like classic noir; and a sugary treat for genre fans.

Eccentric medieval comedy-adventure which imagines Robin Hood (Sean Connery) returns from the Crusades to reunite with his band of freedom fighters/bandits, and for one last time resist feudal oppression and the Sheriff of Nottingham (Robert Shaw). And rekindle the embers of his long ago romance with Marian (Audrey Hepburn).

Except, they are much older and a little wiser. The humour touches on the absurd, but the film mainly resonates because of its melancholy. Robin reflects on a life misused by the ambitions of idiot kings, the murder in the name of god and all the senseless slaughter and persecution. Plus regret for his great lost love.

It's an arthouse adventure, with more dialogue than action. There's a sweet score from John Barry, ambient locations (in Spain) and an authentic feel for the period, despite obvious budget constraints. Also, an immense cast of British actors as the legends who have grown weary and shabby. There's Richard Harris as the Lionheart...

...Nicol Williamson as Little John... Ronnie Barker as Friar Tuck! And many more! But Connery dominates. It also addresses Robin as a mythic figure. Some momentum is lost in the last third, but recovers for a lovely, elegiac finale. There is something of Monty Python in the comedy, but also bass notes of anguish and mortality. 

Allegorical revenge western set after the US Civil War, with Liam Neeson relentlessly/ruthlessly hunting Pierce Brosnan from the frozen peaks of Oregon all the way down to Death Valley, California- where they reference the famous climax of Greed (1924). An internet search informs that a Seraph is the highest of the Christian angels...

So the title gives us the symbolism. Though this is actually the main weakness, especially in the closing moments when Angelica Huston turns up in a gypsy wagon to beat us over the head with it. This is best as a simple revenge story with strong performances, primarily from Brosnan, barely recognisable under the facial hair.

And it's a survivalist western too as the quarry must take extreme measures to stay alive, particularly in the subzero mountains. The scene where Brosnan removes a bullet from his arm with his trusty old knife is hard to watch, and the visceral horror of what it takes to cling on offsets the literary pretentiousness.

The spectacular, almost palpable photography across many states creates a sort of mythic arena for the deadly pursuit. Until the escalating consequences of their hostility drives the two men into a state of degradation. This is all derivative, but usually of interesting films, and the Irish leads give it some potent star wattage. 

Mythic Vietnam war allegory inspired by Joseph Conrad's 1899 classroom classic, Heart of Darkness. It's an extraordinary looking technical triumph, particularly with the ostentatious editing and the Oscar winning photography and sound. Francis Coppola contributes an impressive flair for visual narrative and spectacle.

Martin Sheen plays a special-ops soldier who must travel downriver through the horror/insanity of war to terminate an officer who has gone rogue. It's an odyssey into the interior of the country, as well as the assassin's psyche as he comes under the same pressures which set adrift the rationality of Colonel Kurtz.

It's a flawed masterpiece mostly because all this operatic bombast merely restates that war is hell, however persuasively. The initial narrative impetus is slowly lost. OK, it depicts a psychedelic journey which becomes more surreal as the party floats downstream... but also less compelling. And the climax is squandered.

Marlon Brando gives the closing scenes some folkloric weight, but is oddly presented like a confused west coast hippie cult leader- with an interesting library of modernist classics- rather than the essence of the heart of darkness. Still, it's a landmark Vietnam war film full of memorable scenes and dialogue. My pick is the longer 'redux' version.

*Warning- the film features the inhumane slaughter of a living animal.

Minor John Ford western with a familiar narrative and most of his standard motifs. So the film opens with the rich baritone harmonies of the Sons of Pioneers. On 25 minutes there's an extended fistfight. Then a tenderfoot on a wild horse and an improvised square dance. At length, a wagon train crosses a river...

There is attractive b&w photography of the same old locations. But no stars. This has an ensemble cast drawn from Ford's stock company of support players performing the usual archetypes. Ben Johnson and Harry Carey jr. are the scouts who take a party of god-fearing Mormons- led by Ward Bond-  west across the Utah desert...

They have many adventures, including picking up a medicine show run by Joanne Dru and Alan Mowbray. Naturally he's always drunk. Western veteran Charles Kemper plays the patriarch of a gang of inbred outlaws. It hasn't got the critical status of Ford's classics, but will appeal to his many disciples.

And it's such an unassuming film that it may entertain some agnostics too. There are zero surprises, but it's a short, unpretentious genre picture which presents the customary scenarios with a broad, comical approach. It inspired the popular television series Wagon Train, which kept Ward Bond in work for the rest of his life.

Adorable neorealist musical-comedy set among the urban decay of Dublin, well before the Irish economic miracle. It is staged like a heist picture with a diverse group of hard up chancers who come together in a common cause, but are ultimately destroyed by their differences. And their own flaws.

There is mostly an amateur cast drawn from local musicians who hadn't yet broken through. Robert Arkins plays a switched on soul aficionado who wants to bring together a band, to reflect the struggles and aspirations of working class Dubliners during the '80s financial meltdown. Everyone is signing on and going nowhere.

But their pessimistic sense of humour survives. And the need for self-respect. And that is really what this is about. The greatest hits of US soul classics (Mustang Sally, Take Me to the River) offer some ersatz, ebullient positivity that speaks for the resilience of the people even better than the prickly, profane dialogue.

The cast of non-professionals are a formidable ensemble. The music brings passion; Andrew Strong makes a connection with his authentic soul vocals. Though Johnny Murphy steals the film as the likably mendacious trumpeter. It's good on the tribal impact of pop music, and how it nurtures a sense of identity and community.

Poignant memory film set in the US just before the profound social changes of the 1960s. With the nostalgic narration and rural locations it has the feel of many adaptations of William Faulkner. Except this happens in Oregon rather than the deep south, and is from a story by Stephen King.

Four boys aged about 12 shrug off their disinterested parents to search for the body of a child who has gone missing from their small town. Of course, like most pilgrimages, the significance is in the journey rather than the destination and they learn life lessons which may feel profoundly relatable for younger audiences.

And will be more nostalgic for older viewers, though all the cultural reference points and the late '50's soul/r&b soundtrack is specifically American. The quartet of child actors is extremely good, especially River Phoenix as the empathetic leader and Wil Weaton as the sensitive romantic who will tell the story many years later...

It's uneven- the older characters are shallow and some of the situations are laboured. It's like ersatz Faulkner... but the sunny day evocation of long ago friendships is haunting, as the boys start to test the boundaries of their small world. The recreation of the period is satisfying and it's thoughtfully directed by Rob Reiner. 

Extraordinary true story about Aron Ralston, a climber/explorer who was trapped down a crevice in the remote Utah desert with his right arm stuck under a rock... for five days! He reflects on the circumstances that got him there, while weighing up the extreme measures it will take to survive.

It's mostly a one man show; James Franco delivers a standout performance as a sort of introverted free spirit, while flashback, hallucination and visceral recreation of the ordeal takes us through the 127 hours of entrapment. And his existence is suddenly reduced to a crack in the earth.

But we get deep inside his head... Director Danny Boyle employs an extreme, hyperkinetic visual style, particularly with the accelerated montage and split screen compositions. There's an abundence of ostentatious technique, but it snaps together with immaculate precision.

Ralston's eventual release is a vicarious spiritual exultation- enhanced by the music of Sigur Ros. This is incredibly 4real, and an unusual cinematic experience. Even though film buffs may notice the similarity of the scenario to Japanese arthouse classic, Woman in the Dunes (1964)!