Film Reviews by Steve

Nostalgic coming-of-age story which despite several implausibilities, eventually delivers a sentimental heartbreaker. OK, this is set in a prestigious New England private school, but it's hard to believe that even the WASP offspring of the conservative elite would be quite this compliant... especially in the rock & roll era.

This past is a very foreign country... where the new English master (Robin Williams) inspires the boys to comply with his wacky teaching methods, rather than them forming a gang to destroy him! And then they establish...  a poetry club! We live in more cynical times, but reality barely intrudes into this stronghold of privilege. 

And it's a struggle to sympathise with the growing pains of these rich kids in the era of civil rights; they are on the precipice of the '60s- and Vietnam- which will change everything. Plus, where is the stuff about sexuality? Williams' puckish performance has dated, though the teenage cast is pretty good.

Robert Sean Leonard is the standout as a wannabe actor dominated by his austere father. Director Peter Weir skilfully pushes the emotional buttons, and there's a superior period feel. Ultimately, this is worthwhile for those who love poetry and value the potential for schoolteachers to inspire children for a lifetime. 

Pessimistic, ultra-violent crime film; the mean streets of New York have never been more sordid. Yet this is arthouse-noir more than a thriller, with the nocturnal sadness and the slow creep of despair, darkened by Jonny Greenwood's melancholy soundtrack. Joaquin Phoenix plays a black market enforcer who sells outcomes favourable to his clients, by any means.

Which includes murder. With a hammer. We get brief flashbacks which offer some insight into his alienation and misery. The main plot references US politics as the psycho-for-hire attempts to rescue a girl from a paedophile ring, which supplies a prominent politician, among others. And this awakens bloody retribution from the goons of organised crime.

This isn't really entertainment, and a normal reaction is to find it deeply upsetting. And yet it is expertly directed by Lynne Ramsey who drills down into the wretchedness until it's possible to sense an immense sorrow for the innocent victims of urban life, and the terror dispensed by the sociopathic parasites who exploit them.

Which gives the film a moral dimension. Phoenix contributes a profound and exposing performance as the killer/victim. This is a horrifying, though hypnotic experience. Personally- the cynicism about a morally indecipherable society, expressed in a heightened style, surely evokes Raymond Chandler... But this is more extreme. And not for everyone.

Some long ago film maker said a good picture makes the audience want something really badly, and then at the climax... gives them it. Which is what this is. It's essentially a standard western revenge plot... except it's a brave Roman general (Russell Crowe) who is left for dead and his family slaughtered. And the bad guy is a corrupt Roman Emperor.

The script is patchy, with some resonant sloganeering ('are you not entertained') but also tiresome dialogue and contrived plot twists. The characters are broad archetypes; no screen Emperor was ever more creepily decadent than Joaquin Phoenix! But they are still functional in a production which is more about the scenery, the battles and the stunts.

The history is distorted, and there is minimal thematic content. This is a successful reboot of the '50s antiquities blockbuster because the action, the period ambience, and especially, Crowe's charismatic star turn ensure the entertainment factor boldly exceeds its flaws. Which are mostly just typical genre motifs anyway. 

The CGI is dated, but the elaborate recreation of the Roman empire is still satisfying. It is extremely violent, but most of the blood spills from the edge of the frame. The spectacular production design was Oscar nominated and this deservedly won for Best Film and Crowe's brawny performance. It's even fun that he impersonates Richard Burton!

Sensitive and very beautiful period adaptation of Rebecca West's debut novel set during WWI. There's an exceptional cast, with Alan Bates as a wealthy landowner and officer whose PTSD triggers the amnesia which takes away his memories of the previous 20 years...

Which means the entire marriage to his selfish- but beautiful- aristocratic wife (Julie Christie). He renews a connection with his previous love, a tenant of the estate (Glenda Jackson) who has grown careworn in relative hardship.

Ann-Margret is improbably cast as a poor relation/spinster, but also convincing. There is an implication that the soldier's shell-shock has allowed him him to subconsciously reject his social rank, as well as his marriage. Certainly the old flame is more steadfast than the wife.

There is a sumptuous production, from the lovely music to the Edwardian set decors. The events unravel at leisure. It gently finds fault with the inherited privilege of the aristocracy, but this is no polemic. Everyone accepts their status, which ultimately, is their tragedy. 

This is an actors film, a three hander faithfully adapted from Ariel Dorfman's acclaimed stage play. And it is hardly opened out at all; it's a photographed version of a night at the theatre, and the next best thing. It is a condemnation of the torture and oppression of the citizens of Chile during the regime of Augusto Pinochet...

But fashioned into a potent political thriller. The location isn't stated but can easily be deduced. Sigourney Weaver plays a liberal survivor of police torture and rape who means to take an eye-for-an-eye when she has a key perpetrator (Ben Kingsley) strapped to a chair in her remote country ranch house.

Or is she delusional, prompted by a desire for revenge? The mediator is her husband (Stuart Wilson), the lawyer who leads the inquiry into state sanctioned atrocity. So it's schematic, but a functional vehicle for an exhumation of official secrets which gives a voice to the dead and the traumatised survivors.

The hostage's speech about the addictiveness of brutality is horrifying, though we are spared flashbacks. As a static production of a stage play this is extremely good, if not cinematic. The greater reach of the medium gets the politics to a different, broader audience. This is yet another a warning from history.

Harrowing social realism about a bullied teenage boy who finds a family among the skinheads of the No Future generation of the first Thatcher government, which offers him an identity he can't find in his council home from his single mother.

This England is bleak, but with a sense of humour. The child is played by Thomas Turgoose who was not an actor, but is well cast... if inevitably raw. He is in need of a role model after his father dies in the Falklands war.

And that leads him into the politicised delinquents who attach themselves to working class discontent; badly educated, poor,  distorted by prison, exploited by the far right. Which makes it disturbingly relevant to the present time.  

A well chosen ensemble cast brings life to Shane Meadows' deeply felt, personal story, which conveys an authentic vision of a time and a place and accomplishes what only the best films can ever do; it feels utterly real.

*There is authentic racist language and violence.

Weird cult western which like all Nicholas Ray films, subverts its own genre. The narrative outline is broadly conventional, but this plays out more like romantic melodrama. Plus there is the pessimism of classic noir... Johnny Guitar (Sterling Hayden) arrives out of the past to complicate a frontier love affair. Like Gilda (1946)

Except it's two women who prowl the embers of burned out romance. Joan Crawford appears on the balcony of her saloon in cowboy duds with a six shooter strapped to her belt. And faces down a posse led by Mercedes McCambridge. They hate each other worse than Rita Hayworth and Glenn Ford...

Meanwhile, Hayden has thrown away his pistol! This gender reversal is presented with the amplified theatricality of a Tennessee Williams play. Except the B-picture dialogue is juvenile and pretentious and the psychosexual complications absurd. Preoccupied with this symbolism, Ray tells the story so badly it's difficult to care. 

There's an artificial poverty row studio production with buzzy ersatz-Technicolor, which gives the picture an appropriately fake look... And Ray saves one final disappointment for the closing credits. Anyone hanging around to hear the glorious heartbreak-noir of Peggy Lee's theme song only gets a single verse! 

Complex, understated drama with a political edge, set among the Turkish diaspora in Germany. It's got one of those interwoven, multi-narrative plot designs that were everywhere in the noughties, which demonstrate the interconnection between seemingly random events. 

A Turkish immigrant (Baki Davrak) in Bremen goes to Istanbul to locate the estranged daughter (Nurgül Yesilçay) of a sex-worker killed by his father; meanwhile she claims political asylum in... Bremen, bringing tragedy to a German family. Their lives intersect without them ever quite being aware.

The edge of heaven may be how close their destinies take them to sanctuary. Or simply reflects Turkey's geographical proximity to the EU. The unexpected redemption is the middle aged German mother (Hanna Schygulla) drawn back into political engagement.

But what elevates this above many similar films is the interesting plot device which shifts in time creating a circular narrative that can be entered and exited at any point; the long final shot is like a loop on an old vinyl record. Maybe this is schematic, but still quite satisfying.

Contemplative coming of age comedy-drama about a boy growing up in a working class Italian district of New York in the 1960s. Maybe at first there is some friction in hearing yet another American voice telling such a personal account about a community deeply alien to anyone born in some other place...

And especially in how this humanises the street-corner corner mafia enforcer/killer, played by Chazz Palminteri- who also adapted his own successful one man memory play. And yet, this is so well accomplished, with a compelling feel for the location and the period, including a well chosen soundtrack of hits.

And such lively dialogue. The child ages from 9-17 (Francis Capra, Lillo Brancato) torn between two contrasting role models: the charismatic, ultra-pragmatic wise guy who controls the mean streets with fear; and the proletarian family values of his father (Robert De Niro), who drives a bus.

And he advocates for more honest choices. The crisis comes during the race riots that follow the arrival of black Americans*. It's more realistic than Damon Runyon, but the minor characters are similar grotesques. With the extensive voice over narration, it's not all that cinematic; but still thoughtful, and evocative.

*the racist language is realistically offensive.

High-concept US civil war picture, with a superior period production and exceptional photography. The twist is that this is based on the real-life story of a company of Union soldiers drawn from black volunteers. These were either fugitive slaves from the south or free northerners.

There is narration taken from the actual war correspondence of their leader. Liberties are taken to shape this into a story arc which conveys the men from oppression to glory, through valour. So rather than the realism of war-is-hell, the conflict is primarily a vehicle for their protest and emancipation.

This is more compelling than authentic. The lovely soundtrack is uplifting, but sentimental. Matthew Broderick as the colonel is weak, but essentially the white saviour... Though there can't be many historic stories about black Americans which are inspiring, rather than deeply shameful, to modern US audiences.

There are engaging performances from Morgan Freeman and Andre Braugher.  Denzel Washington won an Oscar and is clearly a star in waiting. Broderick is fine as the flawed officer. But the real-life General who planned that climactic raid on Fort Wagner deserves a court-martial.

This true crime gangster picture is interesting because the mafia is portrayed with the realism of the insider, rather than the iconography of a film maker. It's based on a non-fiction account by Joseph Pistone of his six years as an FBI agent embedded in the New York mob.

Which led to hundreds of prosecutions. This is an account of the psychological trauma of his assignment and how much of his personal life he sacrificed. Yet even more fascinating is the portrayal of the mafia as an ill-educated, disorganised rabble with an ultra-short life expectancy. 

This is a suspenseful thriller which could almost be a comedy, but for the the violence. It is also an encounter between two celebrated Hollywood stars, with Johnny Depp as Pistone, and Al Pacino as the mafia drone he attaches himself to. Their father-son relationship is the heart of the film.

There's a decent '70s feel, with an excellent score. And it's well cast all the way down. The vision of the mob as inept sociopaths is convincing and we get to encounter professional killers who are not mythologised. Though we know how it turns out, because Pistone survived to write the book!

In a decade when Ken Loach portrayed the economic liquidation of the industrial north to a diminishing arthouse audience, this filled multiplexes doing exactly the same. And it draws on the film that most inspired him- Bicycle Thieves (1948). This is about the humiliation of a parent who cannot provide for his child.

Except... there is a commercial hook, loosely based on a true story. Some laid-off Sheffield steelworkers develop an act inspired by the Chippendales (rather than Italian neorealism). There's a decent ensemble of minor UK actors, led by Robert Carlyle. Lesley Sharp pumps up the emotional intensity in a support role.

It reflects on many issues related to unemployment. The politics is understated, but the consequences are examined in detail, including rather a lot of editorialising. At key moments, this is quietly overwhelming. Although it doesn't confront the possibility that it was time for changes in gender roles anyway...

The plot is on a level with Last of the Summer Wine; some blokes with time on their hands- away from female supervision- get up to idiotic hi-jinks. Yet it is gratifying that during the long recession, not all UK cinema was heritage drama. Millions paid to see a comedy about male strippers, but experienced something more personal.

Arthouse genre mashup which is simultaneously horrific and hallucinogenic. As if the Hardy Boys strolled off the page into an alternate fictional world of psychedelic criminal grotesques. Which feels uneasy, rather than pure escapism. This is a head-movie, a high-school romance, a black comedy and primarily, a neo-noir.

Most of all it exposed the multiplexes to the idiosyncratic vision of David Lynch, which is a fantasy of small town America. This is a place of conflicting juxtapositions- between the ideal and the dystopia; the facade and the concealed truth; the ultra-normal and the theatrical; the sentimental and the brutal. 

The approach is self-referential. The performances are brave, but cartoonish. Kyle MacLachlan and Laura Dern are teenagers who investigate a mystery which leads them into Dennis Hopper's criminal insanity and Isabella Rossellini's masochism. But it's uneven and after the introductions, the story loses momentum.

So we find diversion in Lynch's tracking shots and motifs. And all that dreamy atmosphere. There are antecedents in the studio era, including The Night of the Hunter (1955) and The Naked Kiss (1964), but now the signature belongs to Lynch. The director's personal style and symbolic subtext has sustained a lasting cult. 

*there is a scene featuring an extreme sexual assault.

This seems rather conventional for a surrealist like David Lynch; as if Dali painted a pastoral watercolour, just to show he could. Even so, it's about an elderly WWII veteran who undertakes a long cross country trip by lawn mower to see his estranged brother, which still makes for a fairly outré road movie.

And there are classic Lynchian riffs, like the opening tracking shot which recalls Blue Velvet (1986).  Plus a score by Angelo Badalamenti. This is slow moving- naturally- and sensitively observed Americana about old age and the condition of the vast US interior, which reaches a gratifyingly understated conclusion. 

There's a minimalist performance from Richard Farnworth as Alvin Straight who made the real-life journey from Iowa to Wyoming. Which is a great state for parties... A mostly amateur support cast plays a generation soon to be lost to living history. 

Credit is due to John Roach and Mary Sweeney for the bittersweet script, with a glimmer of the absurd. Freddie Francis contributes some expansive photography of the great midwest without straying far from the highway. It presents an idea of American individualism which never resorts to waving the flag. RIP.

This harrowing child abduction thriller is bleak for a mainstream Hollywood film and has the potential to be upsetting. It's the old moral tale of whether the end ever justifies the means... though it doesn't resolve the dilemma.

It's well acted, particularly by Hugh Jackman as a blue collar Irish-American who takes direct action when his young daughter is kidnapped and the chief suspect (Paul Dano) is released by the police to comply with regulations.

Jake Gyllenhaal also excels as the obsessive but unexceptional detective who must endure the relentless trauma of grotesque crime. And there's a plausible impression of maga-America struggling through yet another recession.

This is a long film which is slow to get started, but then imaginative and empathetic. It's well directed by a film maker I usually avoid. The scenario is pure exploitation, but this ultimately feels uncomfortably authentic.