Film Reviews by Steve

This late career success for Ken Loach was not due to a change in approach, but because a wider audience was ready to listen. It's the film that speaks most directly to the UK in the dark days between 2010-24... How the way our society is managed appears to be designed to frustrate the needs of its citizens. Until they give up.

So we observe how the byzantine benefits system destroys a good man temporarily in need of financial support... But this also channels a wider discontent. There is the usual oddball Loach cast of amateurs and factotums, led by comedian Dave Johns as an everyman living in Newcastle who is condemned to... sign on.

Loach and screenwriter Paul Laverty dig through the layers of despair down to a precarious underclass which depends on food parcels and may live in fear of eviction. Where ordinary people survive through crime and prostitution. And the last chance safety net has been manipulated to persecute the vulnerable.

Loach is one of the most important UK directors: not because he is a supreme talent (like Hitchcock), or has mass appeal (like Chaplin), or intuits something profound about our island heritage (like Michael Powell)... But because he cares about the condition of the nation's soul with unwavering passion. This is his masterpiece.

Cute romantic-comedy which takes its premise from Cyrano de Bergerac, though is naturally diminished by the comparison. This is a comical riff on the dating game with themes that operate on the level of a personality quiz in Cosmo. The soundtrack of inoffensive album tracks might have been compiled for US coffee chains.

What was fashionable in '96 among metropolitan casuals - the clothes, cars and desirable homes, plus the excess of product placement- now gives it period appeal. It's an aspirational lifestyle romcom set among single twenty-somethings in the more picturesque suburbs of Los Angeles. Where everyone learns valuable life lessons.

Janeane Garofalo plays a sassy vet who presents a radio show and wants to date a sexy British photographer (Ben Chaplin). Experience says she isn't beautiful enough, so she vicariously romances him via a nice-but-dim fashion model (Uma Thurman). So... do guys prefer average looking feminists or knockout airheads?

The answer may depend on how you rate the relative looks of the female stars, and how impressed you are by Garofalo's zingers. Chaplin grows wearisome as the dreamy, bashful eye candy, but this is mostly easy to take and there are some adorable dogs and cats. It's inevitably superficial, but still a superior '90s date picture.

Stylish psychological thriller which is a fictional story written into the search for a real life serial killer on the island of Jersey in the 1960s. Jessie Buckley plays an anxious misfit bullied by her awful family... and well, everyone else too! She is liberated by her free-spirited boyfriend (Johnny Flynn). But, is he the maniac?

And is the neurotic victim even crazier? The premise isn't original... but still creates suspense out of the many possible outcomes. Besides, it hardly matters, as this is so well constructed, including the expressive use of light and cool camera setups, the ambiguities of an outstanding script and the ominous feel of the locations.

There is such a formidable sense of place it seems the vulnerable woman is menaced as much by the malign ambience of the island and its inhabitants as her own demons- or the murderer. Flynn is charismatic as a nonconformist crusty; but Geraldine James is more sinister as the insidiously bourgeois and controlling mother.

This is a star role for Buckley who conveys a profound impression of locked up, unreachable anguish. And it's an impressive debut for writer-director Michael Pearce; thanks for not overdoing the music! There's some narrative drag, but that's part of the atmosphere. And there's a trace of folk horror in the mix too, which is fashionable.

This was once controversial for its commentary on the early years of the US war-on-drugs and because of the Turkish government's response to its deviations from the truth. It's adapted from Billy Hayes' bestseller about his escape from a Turkish jail after being sent down for 30 years for trying to smuggle cannabis through Istanbul customs.

Turkish officials tried to get it banned everywhere, which is understandable because it presents their legal system as corrupt and the extreme brutality of the prison made an indelible impression on potential western holidaymakers. Welcome to hell. And Oliver Stone who was most responsible for these distortions won an Oscar for best screenplay.

Years later the production team apologised but were vague about why: on some occasions they meant to say this is about prison reform; on others, that drug smuggling is a mugs game. So it's problematic... Yet stripped of the politics, it remains an immersive men-behind-bars picture with decent performances- led by Brad Davis as Billy Hayes.

There was also an Oscar for Giorgio Moroder's innovative electro-score. And it's well directed for maximum realism by Alan Parker, with the camera wobble and jump cuts. But its main impact is a handful of incredibly raw set pieces that instantly became screen legend. Now it's slightly hokey and mostly forgotten; but still a landmark prison blockbuster.

Another of those elegiac Edwardian dramas about a way of life about to be exposed to the brutality of industrial war; except this is more critical of the aristocracy than most. It's 1913 and the elite are shooting game while long overdue political adjustment pulls gently at the threads of the British class system.

There's an impressive ensemble cast led by James Mason- in his final role- as the patriarch who doubts whether the gentry has any function or moral justification, while still enjoying its many privileges. Most of the characters are positioned around how they feel about multiple different kinds of incoming change.

Rupert Frazer and Judi Bowker play dilettantes curious about socialism and female emancipation, while considering an extra-marital affair. They would make very beautiful illicit lovers but lack political will. More comically, John Guilgud campaigns for the rights of animals, while the toffs empty the sky of wildlife.

The period recreation is exceptional, and Alan Bridges is a master of this milieu. His approach is to present the distractions and dreams and dishonours of a generation, while we observe in the prior knowledge that most of them will soon be lost in the tide of history. This is hardly original, but still a heartbreaker.

Complex arthouse psychodrama from Nicolas Roeg's classic period. So there are his usual preoccupations, including the non-linear narrative. And while this isn't difficult to navigate, some attention is rewarded by the ultra-expressive juxtaposition of images, and the outré thematic connections.

Which may feel like homework... but the pessimistic atmosphere and the delirious conclusion make this linger in the memory. Art Garfunkel plays an American research psychiatrist in Vienna tangled up in a convoluted affair with a promiscuous free-spirit (Theresa Russell). His fixation is more like surveillance than love...

While doctors save her life following an overdose, a saturnine Austrian cop on the nightshift (Harvey Keitel) investigates, which takes us into into the darkness of the academic's obsession*. And contributes some noirish fatalism. This is mostly told from the jilted lover's perspective and he's obviously an unreliable narrator...

The odd rock and pop soundtrack is a minor negative.  And Roeg doesn't get nearly as much out of Vienna as he did from Venice in Don't Look Now (1973). Garfunkel and Keitel fail to engage, though Russell is electrifying. Still, for anyone who appreciates the director's unique oeuvre, this is close enough to his peak.

*There is a realistic sexual assault.

Not my personal favourite of the classic melodramas Douglas Sirk directed at Universal studios in the 1950s, but probably the most critically admired. And it's the one which made the heaviest cultural impact. Jane Wyman plays a wealthy widow who falls in love with the young free-spirited hunk (Rock Hudson) who tends to her garden...

Meanwhile her two awful children and the wealthy country club conformists try to wreck their relationship, mainly for reasons of class. It reunites the stars of Sirk's massive 1954 hit, The Magnificent Obsession, and once again struggles to insert a rather superfluous philosophy; this time related to American transcendentalism!

Though Sirk is clearly more interested in the iniquities of US capitalism, and the audience in the glossy romance between the two stars. But there are two main potential drawbacks: it's a wish-fulfilment fantasy about a woman of a certain age who gets another go around with... Rock Hudson. And sure, what that means is now ambiguous...

But not everyone will identify! Secondly, this might climax unforgettably with the haunting reflection of Wyman in a tv screen as she is confronted with the loveless future the small town conservatism demands. But the studio insisted on a Hollywood ending! Still it's a key Sirk melodrama with the usual superior production polish.

Long and very detailed domestic drama from Taiwan which enquires into an ordinary middle class family and how they respond to the trials of their normal lives; while arousing a deep sense of empathy for their fears and aspirations.

Director Edward Yang's approach is reminiscent of Yasujirô Ozu, with the static camera and the absence of closeups. And this classical style makes for a stark contrast with the very modern lives of the people of Taipei in a period of instability.

There is an economic recession. More significantly the traditional family cannot withstand the pressure of westernisation. While grandma is in a coma... the younger generations struggle to adapt, and become isolated and uncertain.

The director's disinterested camera exposes the interior space while their personal traumas slowly unravel; the sadness deepened by a beautiful piano score. Everything is understated and unhurried and quietly heartbreaking.

A change of direction for writer-director John Hughes as his characters leave education behind and become adults. And he no longer casts his Brat Pack actors. This features Kevin Bacon as a graduate who marries his steady college sweetheart (Elizabeth McGovern). And she eventually... becomes pregnant.

It's mostly from the male perspective as he goes through his post-grad rites of passage, while borderline paralysed by what is now called FOMO. Old friends and alternate potentials drift away replaced by grownup responsibilities. He's also writing a comic novel so there are occasional fantasy inserts based on his anxieties.

This isn't all that original, but Hughes is always good with dialogue and the comic situations are fine. The stars are amiable enough and there's the usual support cast of oddball parents. Plus music from the UK indie charts. This may even be the moment when Hughes realises he will never be another Woody Allen.

It lost money, but his '80s films are often good at how life gets serious. The best scene is the childbirth montage, scored by the extreme heartbreak of This Woman's Work by Kate Bush and the empathy goes up another level; with the bargaining and awful panic. And all the fathers in the audience choke back their sobs.

This is usually promoted as King Lear set in medieval Japan. But according to the internet, Akira Kurosawa based it on a historic warlord before he was familiar with the Shakespeare play. Then he later worked in a few connections. It's the legendary director's end-of-life film. Anyone approaching this as a Japanese Lear is likely to be disappointed.

This is mostly because the translated dialogue isn't comparable with a Shakespearian text. What this has is spectacle; something you never got at the Globe. On that level it is a triumph, with the immense production logistics, including costumes and castles and the dazzling vitality of the photography. There is lots of authentic, pre-CGI craft.

But Kurosawa doesn't tell the story so well. The screen is loaded with dramatic imagery but lacks cinematic narrative... and the main characterisations are not complex. The various armies are identified more through colour coding than their motivations. And with the impassive performances, this feels longer than its 160m running time.

Even so... Tatsuya Nakadai is massive as the egotistical but foolish military commander. Mieko Harada is also a standout as the scheming, ultra-pragmatic wife of one of his warring inheritors. The whole bloody pageant in Panavision is colossal; especially the many battle scenes. Arthouse blockbusters on this scale are genuinely not made anymore.

After the tragedy of Jean de Florette (also 1986), part two is more like melodrama, with its revenge narrative and the heartbreaking but very literary dénouement. Both were filmed in a single production so there is no change in approach. We are back in the idyllic campagne of Provence with the sound of the solo harmonica and the cicadas...

Except it's ten years later. Jean's daughter has grown into a lowly- but lovely- goatherd who exacts poetic justice upon the landowners who destroyed her father, by blocking up the stream that serves their farms and the village. The locals are what is now called low information voters. It's dismaying to listen to their (familiar) ignorance and prejudice.

But the unknowable mystery of unintended consequences brings about an even more profound revenge. And the entire four hours ends in a complete emotional overload... Daniel Auteuil and Yves Montand return as the duplicitous villains who are deepened by ill-fortune. And '80s arthouse pinup Emmanuelle Béart makes a beautiful agent of retribution...

Which really makes the complex narrative function. Credit also to writer-director Claude Berri, who gets the elaborate final twist to unravel with exquisite precision. There may be tears! Then there is the understated but rather sweet love story. This period drama is still relevant to who we are now. And seems to have got better over the passing years.

This is an end-of-the-world picture in two respects: it was made by Andrei Tarkovsky after he was diagnosed with a terminal disease and is a personal reflection on a lifetime in cinema and a summation of his late life ideas; plus it's a sci-fi fantasy which imagines a nuclear holocaust through the dream of an older man in decline.

The deeper we get into his subconscious, the more surreal is the director's symbolistic landscape. The sacrifice is the extreme bargaining the academic (Erland Josephson) will consider in order to save his young son, and the whole world. The plotless visual poetry creates sensual expressionism out of light and sound...

There are (apparently) 115 slow tracking shots, leading to the climactic house fire scene which is one unbroken seven minute edit. Sven Nykvist's desolate colour photography is so desaturated that the core of the dream is in b&w. And if this sounds pretentious, then of course, it's the last statement of a complex arthouse legend...

And it's an immersive experience, which breathes in Ingmar Bergman, and breathes out Béla Tarr... Much of the imagery is religious but there is no meaningful redemption. Tarkovsky ends on a long close up of a tree, which evokes the sacrifice of the crucifix. And returns us- says Wiki- to the opening shot of his 1962 debut, Ivan's Childhood.  

There is such irony that the vogue for UK metropolitans to move to rural France was inspired by this parable on the abuse of immigrants. And maybe it's supremely shallow if their takeaway from this epic tale of avarice is how lovely it all looks. Well, the widescreen cinematography is exceptional, as well as the interwar period decor and costumes.

Gérard Depardieu plays a hunchback/outsider whose persecution is justified by his physical difference. Yves Montand and Daniel Auteuil scheme like a pair of Shakespearean rogues to destroy the goodhearted hero via the tragic flaw of his naivety. Before his family arrives to farm their inherited land, the nativists seal up the spring, then observe them go bankrupt in a drought.

The three stars are perfect casting, with Montand the standout as a pretty coldhearted villain. His accomplice is conflicted, which is arguably even worse; but their greed and resentment are an addiction. Claude Berri adapts and directs this revision of Marcel Pagnol's 1952 original version, with both detail and spectacle. The production is simply magnificent.

It had a huge cultural impact overseas... and was massive box office everywhere. The opening strains as the harmonica plays Verdi over the drone of the cicadas, folds the passing years in an instant. It ends on a huge downer, partly because it's only the first half of the story. Anyone who sees this will want to watch the conclusion unfold in Manon des Sources (also 1986).

This is the second of Douglas Sirk's 1950's melodramas for Universal which are the nucleus of his reputation as an auteur.  Most of the motifs are in place, with Frank Skinner's lush, classical influenced score and Russell Metty's lustrous Technicolor photography. In his breakout role, Rock Hudson is paired for the first time with (Oscar nominated) Jane Wyman.

And Sirk delivers a few asides on the disease of American capitalism. Although this is early in the cycle, it feels like a pastiche, with the melodrama turned up to max. A millionaire playboy (Hudson) becomes a neurologist to restore the eyesight of a middle aged widow (Wyman), whose blindness he brings about in a reckless accident.

This serves as a prompt for flimsy philosophical ideas related to philanthropy. But mostly invokes the hand of the almighty... especially when the celestial choir kicks in. It's tempting to imagine this sort of poetic romance was done better in John M. Stahl's 1935 original*, when melodrama was more tuned into the audiences of the depression...

But no, this is superior, with the photogenic stars, lavish set decor, Sirk's elegant direction, the lifestyle of the WASP upper set... Naturally, unless the viewer is predisposed to love such hyper-emotional fantasy, the astonishing story is ridiculous. But for those who are, it is an extreme experience, and a portal into a kind of cinema which is no longer possible.

*both versions are on the bluray.

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.