Film Reviews by Steve

It's a hard world to get a break in... Everyone is searching for something - or someone- to make a better future seem possible; a New Deal to unite the whole country. Yes, this little known sleeper re-imagines a depression era Frank Capra comedy for the ordinary underdog traumatised by eight years of divisive Reaganomics.

Dustin Hoffman plays a petty crook who enters a burning plane crash and steals a purse, while anonymously/incidentally saving all the passengers, including Geena Davis, a determined newshound with a heart. Yes, she's our Barbara Stanwyck! Andy Garcia is a homeless Vietnam vet who claims the reward because he's broke.

Or more thrillingly, he assumes the Gary Cooper role in Meet John Doe (1941). Hoffman almost wrecks the film with a clumsy performance that sends up the script. But it survives. This is optimistic, feelgood Capra for a new economic recession. Heck a brass band plays Auld Lang Syne at the climax! And then, there's a clever bonus...

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

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

This 1959 is a very foreign country... where the new English master (Robin Williams) inspires the boys to comply with his wacky teaching methods, rather than they make a pact to destroy him with silence! And then they form... 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 super-rich kids in the era of civil rights; they are on the precipice of the radical '60s- and Vietnam- which will change everything. Plus, where is the stuff about teenage sexuality? Williams' puckish performance has badly dated, though the younger cast survives unscathed.

Robert Sean Leonard is the standout as a wannabe actor dominated by his strict, austere father. Director Peter Weir skilfully pulls the emotional levers, and there's a strong period feel. Ultimately, this is worthwhile for anyone who loves poetry, and those who value the potential for schoolteachers to inspire children, over a lifetime. 

Cheerful comedy-horror aimed at a family audience. Debut director Frank Marshall says he was inspired by Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds (1963) and that's apparent in the coastal California location. But this is much lighter in mood and milder in shocks- and not as good. There's one big scare...

This is mostly for children. But it's still decent entertainment with a funny script and extremely good effects/make up. Jeff Daniel stars as an arachnophobic big city doctor who arrives in a picturesque small town with his nice family in the middle of an invasion of poisonous Amazonian spiders.

If this sounds like a formula, maybe that's because it was produced by Steven Spielberg after he re-wrote the rules of the Hollywood family film. This is unremarkable in that context, but still fun. Daniels is a comfortable sitcom dad, though Harley Jane Kozak is stuck in a duff role as his perky wife.

John Goodman as the idiot from pest control is presumably there for the younger kids. Then there's an excellent support cast of familiar character actors playing the provincial eccentrics. There are few surprises- and an excess of of comic relief- but still a few creepy shivers and quite a lot of ick. 

For enthusiasts of studio era gaslight melodrama this is celluloid comfort food. This remake of Joseph H. Lewis' low budget woman-in-peril classic My Name is Julia Ross (1945) is updated to the 1980s and obviously revised by aficionados. So there are many familiar motifs for genre buffs to pick up on...

Like the glass of milk from Suspicion (1941). And all those mousetraps! Plus the script tightens up the premise fairly well. Mary Steenburgen is an out of work actor cast in the crazy psychodrama of a mad medic who forces her to stand in for a lookalike dead patient until a blackmail scheme pays off.

The remake- as always- is much longer, and credibility gets lost in a sequence of climaxes meant to crank up the horror. Steenburgen plays three roles so it's a showreel for her. As the kidnap victim she suffers even better than Nina Foch in the original. Jan Rubes is splendidly nuts as the evil manipulator.

The original has cult status and this made hardly any impact. But it's a quality production with a standout music score. The old dark house lacks noir atmospherics, but the hostile winter weather is an ok substitute. While it's not as good as Lewis' programmer this is a remake which shows it some real love.

This unorthodox ghost story is the peak of a wave of supernatural films that came out of Japan around the millennium. It is obviously influenced by contemporary Hollywood but also has some of the woozy, narcotic ambience of the silent melodramas of the 1920... and boasts arguably the greatest scare scene in a hundred years of cinema.

It rejuvenated horror with its original premise and new rules. These are taken from Koji Suzuki's novel: schoolkids pass around a video which will- somehow- kill you a week after viewing... and you will die of fear. With that setup, the shock climax had better be scary, and it doesn't disappoint. Then Hideo Nakata gives it a definitive J-horror look. 

So the long black hair! And the creepy b&w videotape itself, with its arcane runes. Like the best fright films, it reflects on social anxieties. It intuitively captures tensions in the culture, like reservations about technology, or the folkloric conspiracies of urban myths. But especially, with the chilling subversion of gerontocratic Japanese values... 

As in most US horror, there is a focus on teenage interaction. And it's female led, with Nanako Matsushima as the plucky reporter/scream queen. But the breakout star is Hiroyuki Sanada as her spooky ex-husband- surely the Donald Pleasence of J-horror. While not flawless, it's the most innovative genre film of its decade. Best watched on VHS.

Lovely, exquisitely crafted period drama which is a fictional story about two genuine musicians in the reign of Louis XIV of France. The main casting is perhaps gimmicky with Guillaume Depardieu as an apprentice player of the bass viol while his real-life father Gérard plays him as an older man in the court at Versailles.

In 17th century Burgundy, the younger Marin Marais was taught the bass viol by Monsieur de Sainte-Colombe, master of the instrument. According to Wikipedia, little else is known. But in this version, the maestro (Jean-Pierre Marielle) is visited by his dead wife and plays in austere isolation rather than perform in society...

Meanwhile, the novice falls in love with his lonely daughter (Anne Brochet) and breaks her heart. The charm of the film is how the lower pitch of the bass viol flows into the deeper, more melancholy experiences; like grief, loss, regret and unrequited love. Because music communicates emotions we don't have words for...

And this gives the film considerable atmosphere. Depardieu senior reads out long passages from the novel (by Pascal Quignard) but as it is accompanied by the music of the Baroque, the extraordinarily artistic still lifes of the dusty interiors and the gorgeously photographed rural locations, this is no hardship at all!

A divertissement translated from David Ives' Broadway hit, which itself was inspired by the seminal short novel Venus in Furs (1870) by Leopold von Sacher-Masoch; who put masochism into the dictionary. So there is some tasteful eroticism, though this is more a film of ideas, a reflection on what the text means now...

Plus it's also about the creative tensions involved in writing, casting and staging a play. It's a two-hander with Mathieu Amalric as the writer-director who starts out auditioning Emmanuelle Seigner to play the maîtresse, but slowly and by degrees finds himself becoming more compliant, and then submissive... 

Perhaps this is because he is interested in the novella as those are his own dreams? Or this is all a fantasy going on inside his head...etc! Both actors are exceptional. In real life, Seigner is the wife of its director, Roman Polanski... and Mathieu Amalric is short and surely made to look like him. So maybe this is personal...

Which will be an issue for some given its themes and the nature of Polanski's criminal conviction. But obviously not for French critics as they awarded him the César for Best Direction. Objectively, it's a stage play set in a theatre which isn't cinematic, but is interpreted in detail and with intelligence by everyone involved.

Flawed but still viable coming-of-age/memory story adapted by director William Richert from his own novel. Indeed at times it feels like River Phoenix- as the sexually precocious 17 year old growing up in '60s suburban Chicago- is just reading out the text from the book, which is wannabe JD Salinger.

The setting may be alienating for those who lived their teenage years in the UK, as the kids drive around in big cars. Plus Phoenix in the title role has multiple erotic encounters ranging from a cute, rich debutante (Meredith Salenger) to a well preserved friend of his mother (Ann Magnuson). And more!

Boys in the UK equivalent are grateful if they lose their virginity before the fade out! Yet there's something moreish about these Hollywood rites-of-passage films about the last summer before college and searching for the perfect girl while learning life lessons to the jukebox hits from back in the day.

This environment is ludicrously conservative, but it's never clear if it is being satirised. River Phoenix- the ’80s James Dean- gives the film some cult status. His presence makes Jimmy more attractive than he may have been on the page and surely accounts for why this is a sex film without any nudity.

This is the debut as director of Shane Black who previously scripted the 1980s Lethal Weapons trilogy. He clearly reuses the formula, though personally I prefer this as a subject for comedy because it sends up hardboiled crime fiction rather than the action thriller. And I lean towards the 1970s neo-noir approach this imitates.

Otherwise the crosstalk and cartoonish action inserts are similar, except this is better written, with some decent wisecracks and a sardonic voiceover. A bonus for genre aficionados is this ostentatiously references Raymond Chandler, and not just resolving knotty plot convolutions by making a heavy enter the scene with a gun...

Even the chapter headings are borrowed from Chandler. Otherwise, much of the attraction is the odd couple bromance between Robert Downey Jr. as a New York shoplifter who goes to Los Angeles to research an acting role... and Val Kilmer as a private detective who gives him a tour around West Coast crime and corruption.

And there are satirical arrows aimed at Hollywood. It's got that oversaturated colour of '70s noir and there are references to those films, and pulp fiction. Much of the viewers’ response will depend on tolerance of the irony overload (and swearing). But this is a must for noir buffs, and though a flop, later picked up a following on tv. 

This action spy thriller now seems oddly distorted by the cultural factors in play back then. The early Dirty Harry pictures drew accusations of racism, and so Clint Eastwood- as an art collector/secret agent hooks up with black and native American babes.... But in line with his misogynist tough guy image of the '70s, he's incredibly sexist.

And it just doesn't feel right watching the superstar of cop films and westerns roaming around Switzerland in pursuit of the enemies of the CIA, accompanied by a John Williams score which is a blatant John Barry ripoff. Not Bond so much as The Ipcress File (1965). Eastwood is miscast and George Kennedy wasted as a retired spook.

And besides, in 1975 these Euro-spy capers were old fashioned. Plus the intrigue is low watt, and the wisecracks are dreadful and borderline offensive. However, this excels in the action sequences shot in the Alps and Monument Valley, Utah which are ahead of their time. And credit to the star for performing his own climbing exploits.

These still feel authentic and are impressive and thrilling. But considering how massive Clint was in the '70s, it did poorly at the box office. Now, it's hard to watch because of the attitudes, and of interest in the same way as Benny Hill, as a measure of how we've changed. But anyone inclined will also see some spectacular stunts.

Complex psychological thriller loaded with cultural subtext and an elaborate plot structure. This is much more arthouse than multiplex, but still exciting even if manipulative. It's directed with neo-noir atmospherics by Tom Ford who tells the elaborate story with expertise. And there are impressive performances, led by Amy Adams.

She plays a promoter of modern art who receives a manuscript written by her first husband (Jake Gyllenhaal). So there is a non-linear framing narrative which represents their courtship and separation and then her second marriage to a superficial womaniser. And this is interrupted by her personal interpretations of the novel.

So Gyllenhaal plays a second role as the main character of the text who loses his family in a fatal encounter with some psycho rednecks down in Texas. And it becomes clear the literary fiction is a raw, abrasive allegory for their breakup. This can surely be read as an anti-feminist exploration of the crisis in the family, and of masculinity.

Which is idiotic... But it also creates an intense impression of the stages of his bitter breakdown, and of her subliminal guilt. His experiences in the novel are commonplace, hard to watch and end foolishly. But the conclusion of the framing story is a heartbreaker. Despite reservations, this is one of the standout US films of its decade.

Brutal revenge western set after the US Civil War, with Liam Neeson relentlessly/ruthlessly stalking Pierce Brosnan from the frozen peaks of Oregon down to Death Valley, California- where they reference the famous climax of Greed (1924). An internet search informs that a Seraph is the highest of the Christian angels...

So the title gives us the symbolism, though this is the main weakness; especially in the closing moments when Angelica Huston turns up in a gypsy wagon to beat us over the head with it. This is best as a simple tale of retribution with strong performances, primarily from Brosnan, barely recognisable under the facial hair.

And it's a survivalist western too as the quarry must take extreme measures to stay alive, particularly in the subzero mountains. The scene where Brosnan removes a bullet from his arm with his trusty old hunting knife is hard to watch, and the visceral horror of what it takes to cling on offsets the literary pretensions.

The spectacular, almost palpable, photography across many states creates a sort of mythic arena for the deadly pursuit. Until the escalating consequences of their hostility drives the two men into a state of degradation. This is all derivative, but usually of interesting films, and the Irish leads give it some star wattage. 

This ultra-low budget Los Angeles comedy is a huge standout in the decade of gross-out slapstick. It is astute and sincere without ever being sentimental. There are plenty of big laughs too. The humour inclines to the comedy of embarrassment, especially the extended scene with an answer machine...

Which I now skip through. It's a lifestyle/buddy picture about a couple of out of work actors. John Favreau means to break into sitcoms but is weighed down by the separation from his longterm girlfriend. Vince Vaughn plays a loud, charismatic wannabe who labours to get his best pal over the heartbreak...

Meanwhile the duo cruise the swing revival scene in Hollywood with their posse of would-be rat-packers... looking for sex, or a break. And much of their hipster dialogue entered the wider culture for a while. Plus there's the cool soundtrack of classic Vegas numbers and visual references to arthouse cinema.

The lack of finance is obvious, but not a problem. Favreau- who co-produced, and wrote the quotable script- was in the business and able to call in favours. Otherwise, he cast relations and director Doug Liman shot guerrilla style. It's a funny, feel-good comedy, and among the best ever on unrequited love.

Bittersweet anthology of tales rich in the usual idiosyncratic quirkiness of writer-director Jim Jarmusch. It feels like an exercise from a drama workshop with the quintet of short films about taxi rides in five very different cities at night: Los Angeles, New York, Paris, Rome and Helsinki.

The locations were mostly chosen so Jarmusch could reconnect with past collaborators. And the capital of Finland, well, so he could make an offbeat short in the style of Aki Kaurismäki; the best performance on show is from the legendary director's stalwart leading actor, Matti Pellonpää.

These are diverse stories about the nocturnal meetings of strangers, where the moods shift each time between comedy and tragedy. Presumably Roberto Benigni improvised most of his bawdy monologue delivered to a dead priest... There's an alien eye view of the foibles of mankind.

And also the often overlooked wonder of living on the surface of a rock spinning though space. The soundtrack by Tom Waits is another reason to visit, but again, is hardly mainstream. This is an unorthodox arthouse treat for Jarmusch fans, but unlikely to crossover beyond the existing cult. 

This version of Elizabeth von Arnim's 1922 novel was made by the BBC for television but later released to cinemas in the US where it was a minor hit and picked up three Oscar nominations. It's pure escapism; a vicarious fantasy. And so beautiful.

Four unacquainted women mostly suffering from disappointing marriages, the rainy grey fustiness of bourgeois London and a lingering despair brought on by WWI, relocate to the picturesque, rustic fishing village of Portofino in Northwest Italy...

In a historic castle rented out to tourists; in the light and warmth of the lovely coastal gardens; free for a month from the restrictions of their normal lives- and a few days from their inattentive husbands- they start to heal and thrive and grow again. 

The sunny locations and sublime ensemble cast... dispense a dose of the tranquility and optimism the ladies find in themselves. It comforts like an opiate, emancipating the senses and soothing the heart... In the UK- in 1991- that was sweet release.