Film Reviews by Steve

No surprise this started out as writer-director Joe Mankiewicz's own unpublished novel as he seems to have faithfully dumped the whole lot onto the screen. This might be the most overwritten picture ever. There are three narrative voices and long passages of elaborate speech, heavy with the constant drone of irony.

There's every kind of talk except a soliloquy delivered to a skull, but not much genuine wit. It's about a writer-director, so maybe Mankiewicz thought of this as important stuff, but it is a dramatised airport novel from the decade after WWII when Hollywood cut costs by moving into the spaces vacated by the European aristocracy.

Fans of '50s melodrama will find much to enjoy in the lavish production, with the classic sports cars, haute couture and historic locations- in Technicolor. There's a signature role for Ava Gardner as a low born Spanish dancer courted by the machinery of the Hollywood studios to grind out a profit for the bosses... Yes, there is politics.

Elderly Humphrey Bogart plays the old-school director who mediates between the beautiful naïf and the facts of life. Edmond O'Brien won an Oscar as a press agent who sells his soul to the highest bidder. There is surplus of glamour, star appeal and production gloss but anyone expecting a golden age classic is likely to be disappointed.

Since the millennium it feels like horror has become the hot spice of the big screen; a necessary stimulant for the jaded palates of a diminishing audience. This is superficially about rowing and obsession and maybe even an allegory on what society does to young people through the ordeal of educational hothousing...

But it is created in the cinematic language of horror, with the dark expressionism, minor chords and hallucinatory inserts. The climactic thunderstorm ultimately takes us into the gothic. Isabelle Fuhrman plays a recruit to the University rowing programme whose crazy work ethic makes her unpopular with the rest of the crews.

And it loosens her grip on reality. Or is this... all in her head? Writer-director Lauren Hadaway borrows some of her style from David Lynch, but the story is an original spin on a classic sport film scenario... the plucky challenger who overcomes colossal odds. Except the novice rower is in pursuit of a validation that will never be satiated.

Furhrman is suitably committed as the isolated outsider who is transformed by her addiction into a sort of psychological monster. And she dominates to good effect. The slender premise is stretched by the considerable atmosphere, but that's also fine. This is an impressive debut from Hadaway on multiple levels.

Glossy polemic aimed at class inequality and western consumerism, which will divide any potential audience along the pressure points of its ideologies. This start out like a hip political thriller inspired by the direct action of millennials turned off by laissez-faire government. 

Eventually it becomes more of a dramatised debate, which is viable but not very cinematic. Daniel Brühl, Julia Jentsch and Stipe Erceg play the photogenic dropouts who want to undermine the system by breaking into the mansions of the super-rich and contaminating their pristine and secluded privilege.

Until one of the complacent fatcats (Burghart Klaussner) unexpectedly returns. So the activists kidnap him, leading to an extended exchange of ideas which wonders what happened to the idealism of the '60s German counterculture from the perspective of the anti-capitalists of the new century.

And there's a love triangle and a nice climactic twist. OK, it looks like the revolution will be sponsored by Gap... maybe because advertising has absorbed the symbols of rebellion! But it's an effective head re-set for disengaged liberals which doesn't compromise on its recycled message- never trust anyone over 30.

Fascinating dissection of postwar German guilt and denial. It is based on a real life young woman- Anna Rosmus- who investigates the secrets and lies of the respectable, stalwart conservatives of her provincial hometown who lived under the Nazis regime; and sometimes enthusiastically collaborated.

She is routinely blocked in her attempts to access public records and maligned and violently assaulted by the former disciples of the Third Reich, including the church. Plus a new generation of neo-Nazis. Lena Stolze plays the title character who presents her discoveries to camera as an irreverent lecture.

There are comical inserts and daydreams, but gradually the mood gets darker as the forces that oppose her research become ever more threatening. Writer/director Michael Verhoeven reflects on all sides of the issues, but this eventually becomes a polemic aimed at injustice and bourgeoise hypocrisy.

And we learn that there were concentration camps on the border of the community. It's a counter-view of the Geman Heimat, which implies that only the occupation prevented a post-WWII West German civil war. Yes it's a dramatised dissertation, but it makes its case with wit, imagination and intelligence.

Everyone is struggling and searching for something- or someone- to hold onto that makes a better life feel possible; a new deal to unite the people. Yes, this little known sleeper reimagines a depression era Frank Capra comedy for the ordinary American cynic traumatised by eight years of divisive Reaganomics.

Dustin Hoffman plays a petty criminal who enters a burning plane crash and steals a purse, while incidentally saving the lives of all the passengers, including Geena Davis in the Barbara Stanwyck role, as a determined tv news reporter, with a heart. Andy Garcia is a homeless Vietnam vet who tries to claim the reward, because he needs to eat.

Or more thrillingly, he assumes the Gary Cooper role from Meet John Doe (1941). Hoffman almost wrecks the film with a clumsy performance that sends up the script. But it survives. This is an optimistic, feelgood Capra for the new economic recession of the 80s/90s. There's even a brass band playing Auld Lang Syne. And there is another ace...

Famously Meet John Doe had no possible ending that complied with the Production Code. The studio even failed to overcome this obstacle by running a competition. Half a century on, this has another go. And it's better, though still the weakest part of a comedy-drama which mysteriously flunked but deserves a second chance.

This Scottish high school comedy was released well before Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982), so really it inspired a whole new Hollywood genre. And this is despite the ultra-low budget, the amateur cast and a score which sounds borrowed from the music library at the Children's Film Foundation.

Gregory (John Gordon Sinclair) falls for the new female centre forward (Dee Hepburn) in his school's hopeless football team and discovers he in turn is being pursued... Well, most teenage viewers at the time preferred Clare Grogan anyway. Though romantically, he'd be out of his depth in a puddle.

But woah! He's a 15 year old boy. It's about the awkwardness of male adolescence and first love, but without any of the darkness. The whimsical comedy is fun but not hilarious. Yet these eccentric kids with their weird obsessions and naive misunderstandings make up in charm what they lack in authenticity. 

The lack of sophistication  is one of the attractions. These are all nerds and no jocks. And no cheerleaders. Credit to writer-director Bill Forsyth for making something seminal out of almost nothing. And tells us that when it comes to dating; the boys may do the asking, but it's the girls who get to decide.

Sincere and uplifting account of the early life of Irish writer/painter/nonconformist Christy Brown, based on his autobiography. Being born into the poverty of Dublin in the depression was a struggle for everyone, but he was also handicapped by cerebral palsy, which left him to create with his only functional limb...

The point is made twice that his mother gave birth to 22 children, and nine of them died. Which makes Christy's survival a triumph of the spirit, even before he made a reputation as an artist. The boy is well played by Hugh O'Conor until Daniel Day-Lewis takes over after half an hour as the angry young man.

And of course, he won an Oscar for his signature performance. As did Brenda Fricker as his stalwart- and heroic- mother. Their scenes together are understated and sometimes comical, but ultimately heartbreaking. There's a strong impression of family with Ray MacAnally as the alternately brutal and buffoonish father.

In addition to the inspirational portrait of a life, there is also some sombre social history of resilient working class Dublin and the supremacy of religious dogma. Apparently a few of the details have been improved for dramatic purposes... but as a tribute to an extraordinary man, it could hardly be bettered.

Maybe Sam Goldwyn's version of Wuthering Heights now matters most for cinematographer Gregg Toland's new camera with the deep focus which was a screen revolution. There is lots of shadowy atmosphere but the usual virtues of a '30s studio production are not a perfect match for Emily Brontë's novel.

Mainly, the exteriors are photographed on a soundstage. Of course, this was standard, but Brontë's gothic romance is about the wild and windy moors almost as much as obsession, pride and revenge. And her classic text is adapted by MacArthur and Hecht who were better known for screwball comedy.

And yet... they retain a fair amount of the dialogue and have a decent go at reducing the sprawling narrative to feature length. There is a genuine frisson in the moments when the voice of the author filters through. Also, in omitting the second half of the novel, a mainstream audience gets what it pays for.

Which is Cathy and Heathcliff's spectral/stormy romance. Laurence Olivier's Yorkshire accent fluctuates and Merle Oberon doesn't even try but they have chemistry. Though she seems more petulant than wild. There's a decent British support cast and a great Hollywood director. Ultimately, Brontë's novel survives the Goldwyn production.

Harrowing melodrama loosely based on the turbulent life of 1930s Hollywood starlet, Frances Farmer. This is most memorable for Jessica Lange's colossal portrayal of her epic story arc from small town nonconformist- to Paramount screen beauty- to victim of barbaric psychiatric institutions.

This isn't an objective account; it strips the true life of its politics, particularly how much of the ill treatment was due to her communism. And it certainly blanks out the fascist ideology behind the use of lobotomies. This concentrates more on Frances' toxic relationship with her ultra-conservative mother.

And she's straight out of American Gothic. Kim Stanley's scenes with the star have massive dramatic impact, but drift off into the mythic. Still, they demonstrate how much indoctrination and grotesque cruelty it takes to turn a freethinker into a normal US conformist.

And they expose the harrowing revenge taken on those who don't submit. There's some interest in the early scenes set in the old Hollywood- presumably sanitised. But there are few famous names aside from Clifford Odets (Jeffrey DeMunn). The reason to watch is Lange's monumental star performance.

Punchy black comedy which starts out like a glossy spin on the rules of 21st century dating, set to songs by Elvis Costello. But a satisfying late twist takes it somewhere completely unexpected. Though my main thrill is to notice how much Rachel Weisz looks like superstar of '30s melodrama, Sylvia Sidney.

Weisz plays a sexy, subversive arts student who meets cute with a chubby, shabby English undergraduate (Paul Rudd). And the unlikely romance seems to demonstrate the malign consequences of their inequality. It's a four hander with Gretchen Mol and Fred Weller as their mismatched double date.

Neil LaBute adapted his own play, in a period when he was controversial (and hip) for exposés on the cynicism of millennial metropolitan life. Maybe the highly designed plot overwhelms the realism this implies, but the cruel, final reveal still has the potential to shock. Though the impact only works once.

Anyone expecting a romcom about the rules of attraction may be surprised to be eventually confronted with an actual lecture on the ethics of creativity. There is something for either potential audience, but those mainly interested in the status of post-modern art are more likely to be satisfied.

Hollywood biopics in the studio era usually straighten out the personal relationships of famous people. This one revels in the naked truth. So the turbulent life and violent death of '60s playwright Joe Orton (Gary Oldman) concentrates more on his sexual promiscuity than his groundbreaking plays.

There's plenty about his casual hookups with young gay men. While there is something admirable in Orton's impudent provocation at a time when homosexuality could result in a jail sentence (he got sent down for defacing a library book) this is also quite a frank reflection on his narcissism.

Which led to his murder by his longtime partner (Alfred Molina), jealous of Orton's literary and sexual success. Oldman is inspired casting and his irascible, volatile rapport with Molina is a key strength. There is also an impression of permissive London during a decade of social change.

Despite the brutal killing, this is a comedy; something Orton may have appreciated. This is mainly due to the familiar whimsy of Alan Bennett's dialogue (from a biography by John Lahr) which typically gives quality support roles to the female actors. By the way, Wikipedia says 'ears' is an anagram.

Unorthodox classic of British cinema which takes a social realist narrative and then saturates it in weird spectral atmosphere. This looks a lot like folk horror, with the strange isolated figures who play no part in the events but populate the landscape like ghosts.

And the use of historic camera equipment gives this a really unusual look. The lo-def ultra-grainy b&w feels just right for the weathered Cornish locations. This and the minimal camera movement, light pops and psychedelic flourishes plus the rudimentary, muted performances give it a spooky, dreamy allure.

This evokes the avant-garde of early cinema- like Carl Dreyer's Vampyr (1932). And it stirs up a mood of anxiety and suppressed menace. The plot explores the more realistic pressure points between the entitled rich and the disenfranchised. Edward Rowe leads as a local fisherman who has sold out...

While director Mark Jenkin skilfully exploits the ambience of the Cornish scenery, this is about the divisions within the whole nation, which play out in the background noise of radio news bulletins. And then made unique by the craft of the offbeat stylistic approach... One of the standout films of the decade.

Spectacular historical epic loosely based on real-life events during the imperial Spanish and Portuguese expansion through South America. There is an immensely detailed production, led by Roland Joffé's enterprising direction. And the quality in every department led to seven Oscar nominations.

The only win was for Chris Menges' breathtaking location photography. This is elevated by Ennio Morricone's orchestral score, which he considered his best. The purpose is to draw attention to contemporary South American tribes still persecuted today.

This is set in 1750, when their ancestors are coaxed out of the rainforest by Jesuit priests, but then exploited by empire builders for slave labour... until they resist, with tragic consequences. Jeremy Irons is the naive missionary who looks to god to protect the Guarani natives....

Robert De Niro is a former slave trader who switches sides, a sort of proto-white saviour. And there's a huge cast of extras drawn from local people, who admittedly are mostly sidelined. This is an extreme, unorthodox drama made in difficult conditions, which has an imposing, artistic grandeur. 

Another visit to the strangeness of Aki Kaurismäki's Helsinki. This is a companion to his comedy-drama, The Man Without a Past (2002). Most significantly they both draw on classic Hollywood noir. Anyone who has seen Robert Siodmak's Criss Cross (1949) is going to notice similarities. 

The persona of the melancholy fall guy (Janne Hyytiäinen) who works as a security guard is so reminiscent of Burt Lancaster in his early crime melodramas. He's a kind of no-luck washout set up by a femme fatale (Maria Järvenhelmi) on behalf of some pragmatic Russian gangsters.

But of course this is a Kaurismäki picture so it takes place within his usual idiosyncrasies. The minimalist acting, the incongruity. There are recurring scenes carried over from The Man Without a Past: like the awkward dinner date, the tethered dog, the trio of violent thugs, and more...

Only the mood is darker and sadder. The small, lonely lives are not redeemed and there are no consequences for the guilty. The comedy is muted... The director subverts the style, but this has all the standard pessimism of studio era noir. 

This contemporary western breaks into two contrasting halves. There's a static first hour heavy with Arthur Miller's dialogue which is neither realistic nor poetic. Then director John Huston wakes up for the later action scenes of macho horse wrangling, with the thematic content stowed away in the subtext. And this is really very good.

The lead role of the hyper-emotional ex-showgirl who gets tangled up with some vagabond cowboys was clearly written for Marilyn Monroe. But she hasn't the necessary gravitas. Problems in her personal life also led to her being photographed (by the great Russell Metty) in such extreme soft focus that she is sometimes oddly blurred.

Clark Gable is plainly too ill to play her rugged, virile lover. Montgomery Clift brings a welcome surge of maverick volatility but in an insubstantial role. This isn't Alex North's most memorable score, though the Nevada desert in b&w is a big bonus. There are so many prestigious names involved, except some were in decline. Including the director.

And then there's the pathos soon to overtake Monroe, Gable and others. So it's a sort of farewell to them, as well as the old west. This has been served as evidence that Marilyn was a great dramatic actor- or unprofessional, depending on the agenda. So there is poignancy and debate, as well as a barnstorming second act.