Film Reviews by Steve

There's a curiously warm, nostalgic afterglow to  François Truffaut's occupation drama, maybe because the Parisians keep calm and carry on- as much as possible- against hardship and provocation. And there is an occasional soundtrack of sentimental ballads. There are no interrogations or executions on screen.

This is about the wartime boom in theatre attendance... because the public can't heat their homes. It focuses much more on the French collaborators than the Nazis, including how freely the citizens report the enemies of the occupation to their oppressors; usually suspicion of Jewish heritage. Often over minor disputes.

Catherine Deneuve plays a popular star of the stage who hides her Jewish husband (Heinz Bennent) in the theatre cellar while the show goes on. There is an affection for the liberal creatives who do what they can to bend the new laws. Gérard Depardieu is her romantic lead who offstage is involved in the resistance.

The villain is a theatre critic who finds the occupation suits his prejudices very well. It's a slow, affectionate tribute to a resilient way of life which is broadly critical of any intolerance; and it's disturbing to hear the racism present today in UK politics. This was a huge success in France and my pick as Truffaut's best.

Influential crime-vérité which shows the futile struggle of Parisian narcotics officers against an incoming tide of drugs, and the further lawbreaking this provokes. If it seems drawn out at 145m, the many tv series it inspired are far longer. Didier Bezace plays the ordinary cop who is the hub of a colourful melange of informers.

His police squad is based in a caravan, indicative of the rapid spread of drug crime and the meagre resources against it. They are neither idiots nor academics. Although this is seminal, it avoids most future genre clichés: so there is no funeral for a hero, or corrupt/addicted officers, or moles... Or the cops as just another gang.

But there are some... such as the lonely wife. The story is episodic without a single narrative arc, because the war on drugs is ineffectual. Crime is too deeply embedded in the ordinary lives of the poor. Director and co-writer Bertrand Tavernier doesn't actually bother with the criminality of the rich, other than a few sardonic asides.

And there isn't much about the pushers, who are all immigrants, with their own ethnic divisions. This is all about the disorganised, traumatised law enforcement officers in a conflict which is already lost, and mostly destroys the destitute, uneducated users rather than the traffickers. The title? This is the number of French laws opposed to narcotics.

Extreme Japanese body horror which looks like a live action Manga strip. This is a homemade, low budget project from writer-director-factotum Shin'ya Tsukamoto, who basically did everything in his workshop, and also co-stars. He has helpfully outlined the intended plot, though there isn't an obvious linear narrative...

We mainly see two men suffer trauma, who transform into grotesque metal machines. This is more about the style, with the beat up, grainy b&w expressionism and the gloomy kling-klang of the industrial techno soundtrack. It is a demented, gross-out sci-fi/horror with heavy use of prosthetics and animation.

There's obvious thematic content about the impact of technology on human evolution and post-Hiroshima fear of apocalypse. This is an immensely Japanese monster story which reflects their embrace of avant-garde automation. But is also spookily reminiscent of European surrealism from between the wars.

The relentless chaos is brutal- at least the blood/oil and the flesh/metal is in b&w. And its weird futurism is impressive and peculiar. There may be a limit to how much of this anyone would want to see, but as an isolated, 67m hallucinatory experience, it's a must-see for viewers with an interest in experimental cinema.

This looks like a John Hughes film because it's a coming of age story and it casts the same 'Brat Pack' actors, including several from The Breakfast Club released earlier in 1985. And it could be about those kids a few years into the future. Except this is made by Joel Schumacher, a writer-director of modest pedigree. 

While he is obviously inspired by Annie Hall (1977), this is melodrama, or a soap. The dialogue is clunky, the situations are commonplace, and the characterisations are superficial. This is pure nostalgia, an 80s time capsule which was a box office smash because of the young stars and the durable concept.

It reflects on the yuppie lifestyle of a clique of graduate best friends who go through a period of adjustment; because what gets you through school won't get you through life. It's about starting work and selling out... love and infidelity... drugs, booze and the hangover; the encroachment of responsibility.

It wonders when you will wakeup and be like your parents. Pre-surgery Demi Moore is top billed, but hardly recognisable in the bad girl role. In '85, Rob Lowe was the hot star, but my pick is Andrew McCarthy as a heartbroken journalist. Sadly, the soundtrack is a dud, though John Parr had a US no.1 with the title track.

Landmark high school romantic comedy which owes more to Woody Allen than Fast Times at Ridgmont High (1982).  It's the ultimate '80s experience with the hair, the clothes... And the alternative soundtrack including The Smiths, OMD... Plus of course the punky title song by The Psychedelic Furs. And many more.

Molly Ringwald gets to keep the unofficial Ms. Eighties title for all time as the boho scholarship student at a school full of rich kids, who is in a first-love triangle with a similarly disadvantaged admirer (Jon Cryer) and the sort of teenager who comes to class in a Mercedes (Andrew McCarthy). With prom coming up fast...

We get a female perspective on the rites of passage. The only significant weakness is neither romantic choice feels like a happy ending; writer-producer John Hughes swapped the outcome in post-production. There's more heartache in the scenes between Molly and Harry Dean Stanton as her deadbeat dad.

While it doesn't dig into the subcultures as deeply as its imitators (and everyone's white), there's plenty of genuinely witty dialogue. It's optimal to watch at 16. Otherwise, this is nostalgia. Even if you didn't grow up in Illinois, the music is British. This is a school where it's forever 1986, and Molly Ringwald is always a star.

The introduction claims this is based on a true story, and it's interesting how often the premise has been copied since, like its themes reflect the ordinary fears of our times. A nine year old boy goes missing from his rural community and his already unhappy family begins to come apart.

When he returns aged 15 he is considerably changed because he ended up on the street... Or because he's an imposter... The parents choose not to press on the details because they want to believe in the dream. This isn't so much a thriller, as an arthouse reflection on issues of identity and the role of the family.

They are a dysfunctional household and it's possible to plot a way through their incipient neuroses and sexual hangups... The conclusion has little impact as the parents and his older sister have mostly lost interest in the truth because it no longer seems to matter... They got used to a new reality.

There's an odd paranormal diversion which doesn't go anywhere but isn't intrusive. This is a slow, muted exploration of a family which is unusual, but by no means unknowable- and may upset some viewers. Writer-director Agnieszka Holland makes the group dynamics of these traumatised survivors weirdly mesmerising. 

This photogenic WWII biopic takes some time to get the title personality into focus, and longer to fully capture the attention. The name belongs to a member of the French Resistance in Lyon and the main events build to her role in rescuing her husband- one of their leaders- from the Gestapo.

And the climax is thrilling. But this was made with Lucie Aubrac's blessing and it suffers from being more of a soft focus hagiography of a hero, rather than digging up some real history. It looks lovely and sometimes spectacular with its widescreen pictorial of France under occupation, and is artistically lit...

But... there isn't much interest in the political divisions within the Partisans, which is especially relevant to her legacy. Realism is not a priority and at times it feels like it might have been made for Hallmark. The support cast is forgettable and Daniel Auteuil makes little impact as the husband. The Nazi's are 2D sadistic goons, or idiots.

Still, Carole Bouquet is effective in the title role and the occupation is such an extraordinary time of incredible heroism and heartbreaking betrayal. Eventually it engages, with the escape plan and her astonishing, nerveless valour. But it leaves an impression that her courage really deserves a better film.

Characteristically lavish/febrile Southern Melodrama from Douglas Sirk's classic period at Universal Studios. This is the 1950s of Eisenhower's America shot in gorgeous Technicolor with huge stars and exaggerated emotions... It is adapted from a novel based on a real life murder, but this is like a photographed airport blockbuster.

It brings together a few of Sirk's stalwart leading actors with Robert Stack as a crazy drunk/Texas oil tycoon who marries a classy Madison Avenue business secretary- played by Lauren Bacall- and goes on the wagon, for a while. Rock Hudson is the buttoned up adopted brother who holds everything together... but wants her even more!

Dorothy Malone steals the picture and won an Oscar as the younger sister, a volatile nymphomaniac who blows the family apart! There is more sex chat than usual for the period, though the attitudes are dated. And there's a chic production with Bacall in particular wearing some cool outfits, plus the sports cars and sumptuous set decor...

Sirk directs with his usual elegance including some eye-catching crane shots. And there's the Latin rhythms of the big band jazz. Everything is overstated and glossy and superficial and that's the main attraction. Once more, the director implies there is a sickness in US capitalism. But naturally, the postwar excess is the reason we're watching!

This gets marketed as an eco-thriller, which it hardly is. It's about three environmentalists who blow up a dam, but there isn't much editorialising on green issues. And it's scarcely a thriller; there is a moment of classic Hitchcock suspense when the bomb is activated, but it mostly eschews standard technique. 

This is more a showcase for the 2010s slow cinema revival, which was led by its director, Kelly Reichardt. So there are long edits, static camera setups and understated acting. This is not exciting; it is gently hypnotic. Jesse Eisenberg and Dakota Fanning as the eco-warriors barely give a performance.

The story is lifted by the slightly more animated involvement later on from Peter Sarsgaard as an ex-marine who assists in their mission. Then it becomes more about their guilt and how the trio respond to the consequences of their actions. And in this respect, it is hardly waving a flag for eco-activism.

Its merit depends on our response to its ostentatiously languorous aesthetic. This is an anti-thriller. It is quietly compelling for the first hour but lacks ideas for a second act and is sustained by the ambient music. Still, it's a must-see for students of slow cinema and a relatively accessible example of the style.

High concept Hong Kong crime thriller with a unique premise. We've seen cops go undercover into narco-gangs before, but what if simultaneously the mob sends one (or more) of their own the other way? Yes, this could be merely schematic...

Except the idea is developed with intelligence- though admittedly the psychology/philosophy more than the logistics. And as well as the hooky Hollywood style action, the pumped up score and cool photography, we get a twist of neo-noir sadness.

There are genuine star performances from Andy Lau as the nerveless gangster who takes over police internal affairs and particularly Tony Leung as the cop who spends a decade out in the cold. Naturally, there is some subtext about identity.

And co-director Andrew Lau says this is an allegory about the handover of Hong Kong to the Chinese... But it mainly operates as one of the better gangster films of this century. The remake by Martin Scorsese is redundant; this is near flawless.

This is a photographed stage play adapted by writer-director David Mamet from from his controversial off Broadway production. It's a provocation which uncomfortably probes the divisions of what is now called social politics. Naturally, we bring our own attitudes to the issues and this expects us to take a side. 

William H. Macy is the self-absorbed, middle aged university professor who patronises a female student at length about her personal problems, his new house purchase and the purpose of education. Debra Eisenstadt plays the flunking undergraduate who fights back against this patriarchal oppression.

The academic unravels when her protest/entrapment leads to his suspension. Which may already push buttons. And then it escalates... It's a two hander set in an office. The performances are effective, even if necessarily abrasive. It's not an easy watch as Mamet turns the screw on ultra-sensitive themes like gender, class and sexuality... 

And he puts its audience through the emotional wringer. Yet afterwards, it becomes more obvious this is a black comedy and the situations absurd... Then it might seem a little schematic. It is more like a wordy, dramatised thesis from an academic journal than pure entertainment. But on those terms, this is dynamite!

For this low budget Palm D'Or winner, Ken Loach adopts the Irish War of Independence (1919-21) as a vehicle for his own socialism. He portrays the IRA as divided between an elite who will merely replace British colonial rule, and the rebel-heroes intent on creating a more equal and free society. 

As the fight for autonomy mutates into civil war, two brothers (Cillian Murphy, Pádraic Delaney) must take opposite sides in the struggle for the soul of the Republic. With horrifying consequences. This is strikingly photographed on location in County Cork in the customary Loach style, with native songs and a homespun production design.

So the IRA are all local Irish actors, and aside from the leads, mostly non professionals. IMDB says the British army was cast from ex-soldiers who were asked to improvise. Miscues were not reshot. This feels raw and spontaneous, rather than heritage cinema. The political lessons are converted into scenes of unconvincing dialogue.

The story is not well told, and some pre-knowledge is an advantage. Its scope is limited to the soldiers in the field rather than the politicians, so the wider picture is rarely seen. It's probably more of interest to students of the director than those of Irish history though its representation of colonial rule is a useful head reset for UK patriots

Sumptuous but unconventional account of the later life and death of the low-born British landscape painter. While there is considerable reflection on his art, there is also an abundance of social history and an embellished private life. Timothy Spall plays the legend as a monosyllabic curmudgeon with a functional approach to sex.

The script hardly articulates his artistic philosophy, but we see the famous paintings. Mike Leigh constantly places Turner in the centre of a panorama, which is appropriate, though there is no visual representation of his expressionism. Still, this is a beautiful looking period drama, with the Oscar nominated photography, costumes and set design.

Broad strokes are applied to the detail of his relationships. While that is usual for a screen biopic, it serves to make Turner more of a degenerate than a standard hero. There's some absurd humour; time spent chuckling at the eccentricities of John Ruskin (Joshua McGuire) may be the furthest the new century ever got from gross-out comedy.

Many of the director's stock company turns up in support- Dorothy Atkinson damn near steals the picture as the Master's sad, docile housekeeper. This is more of an epic study of the iniquities of Victorian Britain than a celebration of a life. Though the genius is still there and such an extraordinary artist surely justifies the big screen treatment.

Trademark social realism from Ken Loach set during the deep recession of the 80s/90s. There are no references to Westminster because the characters are not politically motivated, but this is obviously a polemic aimed at the devastation of the northern towns brought about by successive Tory governments.

It's not set anywhere specific, but shot around council estates in Manchester. No one works and the residents get by on cash in hand, petty crime and the family allowance. When a hard up dad (Bruce Jones) borrows a few quid for his daughter's first communion, the debt is picked up by a small time gangster.

And he wants far more than the money owed. The initial comical tone as the rather feckless father knocks around with Ricky Tomlinson suddenly darkens, as Loach and scriptwriter Jim Allen make this menace seem horrifyingly real. But as socialists, they are clearly not going to present a solution in religious dogma...

But the family priest does prove unexpectedly broadminded! This is typical Loach and unlikely to crossover to those antagonistic to his ideology. For everyone else, this is a stirring vision of a nation in crisis. And actually, well done Ken just for getting this stuff out there while everyone else was flogging heritage to Miramax.

Violent but philosophical WWII action drama set among the residual German survivors on the Russian front as they are rolled back through the Caucuses by the Red Army and process their inevitable defeat. It's based on a novel that draws on real life events, but really this is a counterculture film which tells us never to trust the man. 

James Coburn is charismatic, but- at 49- too old to play the insubordinate maverick whose ragtag mob of dissidents is the only resistance left now the disillusioned Nazis have abandoned the cause. Maximilian Schell is a fearful Prussian aristocrat whose obsession with winning the Iron Cross wilfully jeopardises his own men.

The verbal analysis of the psyche of the defeated army constantly evokes All Quiet on the Western Front (1930). Then shifts to state-of-the-art action set pieces more typical of Sam Peckinpah, with the explosions, blood squibs, memory inserts plus all the slo-mo. The cast's handling of authentic weaponry is impressive.

And there's a decent sound mix. This divided the critics, but holds up well. The production ran out of money, though this is only evident in the perfunctory climax. What is most persuasive is the impression that there is nowhere for these men to go once the insanity of war is over; they can never really leave the horror behind.