Film Reviews by Steve

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.

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.

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.

A key entry in the cult of '50s low budget sci-fi. It's got the lot: a spaceship/meteor that lands at night in the lonely Arizona desert; the off duty scientist and hot schoolteacher girlfriend who are the only witnesses; the opposition to a potential hostile attack is led by a cop with a pistol backed by an angry mob...

Best of all, the intruders- an extra in a rubber suit- take over the bodies of the local citizens, and make them docile. While a theremin plays on the soundtrack. Ray Bradbury's story checks off all the of the clichés of the alien invasion picture... then invents some! And is so much fun, even in 2D.

The monster looks homemade, but the special effects are state of the art- for 1953. Richard Carlson is ideal as the hunky/slightly dull astronomer who makes first contact with the aliens. But has he gone plum crazy staring at the stars? Barbara Rush is unambiguously gorgeous as his ultra-supportive fiancée.

But the real star is the Mojave desert (standing in for Arizona), photographed in b&w for maximum atmosphere. Eventually, the visitors go in peace, which was surely a financial imperative. We are not yet ready- but they will be back. This is just standard Universal science fiction. And that is the attraction.

Unsophisticated spoof which still provokes a few genuine laughs even though the world has changed around it. Some of the gags feel culturally awkward and the formula is now very familiar- this was surprisingly influential. It inspired bad imitations for about two decades! Many by these directors.

So we get the corny visual puns, the catchphrases... the poker faced solemnity while something absurd happens in the background... And the sendup of a popular screen genre. Hardly anyone new to this will have seen the '70s Airport films this pastiches... Fewer will know Zero Hour! (1957) from which it borrows the plot.

Arguably this might be done as well on the small screen. Where it excels is the ensemble of character actors familiar from real low budget melodramas not so long before, and then on television. Like Lloyd Bridges in air traffic control. Or Peter Graves as the stricken pilot. Robert Stack leads the emergency rescue...

It's reasonable to wonder if the '80s wave of genre spoofs would exist at all but for Leslie Nielsen- the Olivier of this sort of thing. Credit also to Julie Hagerty who is on a similar level. Sure, it steals from Mel Brooks and National Lampoon, yet it transformed big screen comedy for years- for better and for worse.

Cult social comedy which excels due to its quirky, quotable script and once-in-a-lifetime performance from Richard E. Grant as WIthnail, a volatile, unemployed actor who suffers the agony of his more stable friend (Paul McGann) finding work and leaving him behind. This is eccentric, nostalgic, poignant, and really very funny.

There is scarcely a plot; this is a character piece elevated by inspired casting. Like almost all UK comedy, it's about class. Withnail is a minor aristocratic wastrel and his companion a more rooted middle class stalwart. Comparatively! The support performances are legend and might have stolen the picture. But for Grant.

Writer-director Bruce Robinson based it on his own experiences at the end of the '60s, with the demise of the counterculture. The impression of the period is profound, including a well chosen soundtrack. Plus the roster of drink/drugs. The photography is evocative, the squalor is palpable and the sentiment is... quietly heartbreaking.

Particularly the pitiful resolution. Not everyone will relate to its scuzzy defeatism. And with such a loose narrative, there are longueurs. Yet the friendship of the out-of-work actors and the sensation of youth running out of road, may resonate more widely. There really isn't anything else like this.

Intelligent sci-fi allegory loosely adapted from Michel Faber's novel and given a scuzzy, low-tech retro-70s makeover. Scarlett Johansson deserves credit for taking on such an exposing role as an alien transformed to pass as a woman in order to harvest human flesh for her people, for reasons never made clear.

This seems to widely divide opinion so maybe the star's much publicised nudity brought in viewers who otherwise may have passed? Also this is an absolutely immersive experience which constructs an emotionally numb vision of humanity which is profoundly sad.

We see the rainy Earth (mostly Glasgow and the Scottish lowlands) through the eyes of this disinterested predator who uses the promise of sex to capture lonely males. She has no impression of suffering. But then acquires a fatal flickering of curiosity for her victims...

Eventually it becomes obvious this is about the real life sociopaths who feed on the suffering of the ordinary; it's a metaphor for the society exposed by the '08 bank crisis. We encounter a pitiless sci-fi dystopia, but this is principally a howl of legitimate anguish and an acute observation of our times.

The final collaboration between Clint Eastwood and his longtime director Don Siegel is a vérité account of what the script and the source book by J.Campbell Bruce claim is the only successful escape from the island prison at Alcatraz in San Francisco Bay. Events take place in 1962, a year before it closed.

There's an ultra-realistic approach, staged in actual locations. This isn't the political crusade of the '30s Warner Brothers prison films. There isn't any of the symbolism of those made after WWII, or the anti-authoritarianism of the '60s. It is much more candid due to relaxed censorship but doesn't wallow in misery.

Eastwood is typically laconic and impassive and gives us an antihero we can root for; we are never informed of his crime. The all male support is cast for naturalism more than name recognition... except for Patrick McGoohan as the vindictive chief warden. Who ensures we are on the side of the conspirators.

It is ultimately unclear if they got away, because... no one knows! This is mainly a work of suspense. Plus the realism and the vicarious interest of seeing inside the walls of Alcatraz in the bad old days. On those terms it is a success, and was a box office hit. Yet is not as compelling as those earlier prison films.

Nothing dates faster than a story about young people. And in the '60s, Hollywood was still getting started on the idea of a generation stuck somewhere between childhood and maturity. It's the old fashioned attitudes, particularly towards gender roles, which is the problem with this version of Neil Simon's hit Broadway comedy.

Jane Fonda and Robert Redford are young professional newlyweds who move into a ramshackle, fifth storey apartment in Greenwich Village. Imagine the rent! This is about their period of adjustment- to married life, the bride's straight-arrow mother (Oscar nominated Mildred Natwick) and their Bohemian neighbour (Charles Boyer).

The two stars were in their 30s and a little old for the roles. But it's still fun to see them just before they were massive. Fonda plays the sexy kook as she often did back then. Redford is maybe more beautiful but concedes the spotlight. Their main conflict is due to the husband being too buttoned up and the wife more spontaneous.

The script deals in shouty backchat more than hilarity. Yet it scores as a Technicolor time capsule of '60s Manhattan, much like Breakfast at Tiffany's (1961). They even got Johnny Mercer to co-write the theme song. It's not as memorable but the period lifestyle of post-grad New Yorkers- plus the stars- makes it still worth a visit.

Emotive real-life polemic aimed at the chemical industry and the docile compliance of the US government, which informs us that if regulation is left within the scope of free enterprise, then the ruin of its workers and the environment is just a number on a spreadsheet. This is Hollywood activism, and clearly a labour of love.

It restates that our institutions are controlled by a wealthy, entitled few, who when challenged will fold to protect others like themselves. And how arduous and self-destructive it is to oppose them. Mark Ruffalo plays Ron Bilott, a corporate lawyer who was one of this in-group, but crossed the line. Though it cost a decade of his life.

Courageously he didn't turn his back on malfeasance when everyone else did, and he was expected to. It's a credible performance, backed by an impressive support cast, including some of the actual people involved. Though this is too polished for social realism, and Todd Haynes directs us to an intense emotional epiphany.

This kind of story goes back at least as far as the fictional eco-thrillers of the 1970s. But this is so much more compelling because of the true horror of laissez-faire government and the degeneracy of vested interest. Laboriously, the lawyer won his case, but this is only a beginning. Now these forever chemicals are in us all.

Clever black comedy which is pitched more as a satire on US politics than a copy of the standard high school blueprint. So it's not really about tribal teenage subcultures. This is more of an attempt to explain the sociopathic grotesques who occupy positions in the White House.

Reese Witherspoon gives her signature performance as Tracy Flick, an ultra-ambitious senior and Tea Party cutout who runs a scarily efficient operation to become student president. Mathew Broderick is a liberal, harassed and hypocritical civics teacher who means to thwart her and save mankind from her ruthless egotism.

This is all more insightful than genuinely funny, but there's some imaginative detail that invites repeat viewings. And a quality script. There are decent ensemble performances, including Chris Klein as the idiot jock who runs against the Flick machine. A sort of sweet Labrador.

Broderick has the central role and he's fine, but Witherspoon's inspired, star-making portrayal has escaped the film to enter wider public consciousness. Given when this was released, it's possible that Tracy owes something to Monica Lewinsky. Now, her passive-aggressive Stepford Wives persona is everywhere.