Film Reviews by griggs

The Man Who Wasn’t There is a beautifully shot, bone-dry slice of existential noir where nobody really wins, and nobody even clocks the chaos unfurling around them. Billy Bob Thornton sleepwalks through a doomed life with a cigarette permanently stuck to his lip, while the Coens have fun with murder, dry-cleaning, and flying saucers. It’s maybe a bit too detached for its own good, but it’s so stylish and grimly funny you can’t help but admire the bleak artistry.

Watched this in preparation for the sequel’s release. The Accountant opens with an intriguing and surprisingly sympathetic premise, hinting at a more nuanced and inventive thriller than expected. However, it quickly loses footing, descending into an increasingly contrived and overcomplicated narrative. Despite a strong central performance, the film’s excessive length and underuse of supporting talent like Anna Kendrick and J.K. Simmons leave it feeling frustratingly hollow. Not without merit, but essentially a squandered opportunity.

Pepe le Moko is a cracking slice of poetic realism, beautifully made and dripping with atmosphere. Pepe, a notorious criminal, has the run of the Casbah, treated like a Robin Hood figure, but the freedom’s a cruel joke — it’s a gilded cage. He dreams of Paris, but the second he steps out, the Police will pounce. The Casbah itself feels as tight and suffocating as any prison. Stunning use of place, light, shadow, and razor-sharp editing throughout. Beneath it all, Pepe le Moko quietly twists the knife: freedom is an illusion, love is a death sentence, and fate, with a glint in its eye, plays the cruellest jokes of all.

Drugstore Cowboy wasn't quite what I expected—far less grimy than you'd think for a film about junkies knocking over pharmacies. It drifts rather than drives, giving it a dreamlike rhythm, though it can sometimes feel aimless. Still, modern cinema owes it more than a nod—you can draw a straight line to the Safdies' neon-soaked, morally slippery Good Time (2017), which feels like a direct homage to Van Sant's urban poetry. It's a fascinating artefact, if not quite the gut punch I'd anticipated.

Good Time is a wild ride—stylish, intense, and relentless. Robert Pattinson gives it his all, and the film looks incredible, all neon chaos and sweaty close-ups. But while it grabs you from the start, it doesn't always give you room to care. It's so focused on momentum that character and depth sometimes get left behind. Impressive stuff, no doubt, but I didn't connect with it as much as I thought I would.

A totally mad little film—full of big sci-fi ideas, daft dialogue, and gloriously cheesy special effects. It kicks off with a splendidly surreal shot that sets the tone and ends with one you really don’t want to see (but can’t look away from). Sure, it’s a bit creaky in places, but there’s real charm in the chaos. Perfect for when you’re in the mood for something properly bonkers.

Scorsese's After Hours is a darkly comedic film that illustrates the adage, “Nothing good happens after 2 am.” It follows Paul Hackett (Griffin Dunne) as he navigates a chaotic night in New York City, encountering increasingly bizarre events.

Paul's evening begins innocently enough when he meets Marcy (Rosanna Arquette) and visits her Soho apartment. However, his attempts to return home become a nightmarish adventure filled with surreal encounters. Scorsese's direction keeps the pace frenetic, portraying the city as a labyrinth trapping Paul with its eccentric characters.

The film blends humour with dread, capturing urban paranoia and the city's unpredictable nature. It's a brilliant exploration of urban anxiety and life's randomness.

Sofia Coppola's The Virgin Suicides is a visually stunning film. The cinematography by Ed Lachman is mesmerising, giving the suburban setting a dreamy, nostalgic feel. The music by Air adds to the film’s haunting atmosphere, perfectly matching its melancholic tone.

While the direction and performances are strong, the film is missing something. The characters, especially the Lisbon sisters, remain distant and hard to connect with. The story feels more like it belongs to the boys observing the sisters rather than the girls themselves. This might be intentional, reflecting the boys' limited perspective. Still, it leaves the audience wanting more depth and understanding of the sisters' inner lives.

Overall, The Virgin Suicides is a beautiful debut with impressive visuals and music. Still, it lacks the emotional connection to fully engage the viewer in the narrative.

Galaxy Quest, often praised as a cult classic with a loyal following, had the potential to be a sharp satire of sci-fi shows like Star Trek. However, it fell short of this potential, delivering a flat spoof that didn’t provoke a single laugh. The premise holds promise, but the execution disappoints at nearly every turn.

Tim Allen, leading the cast, unfortunately, fails to elevate the material. Even with the seasoned actors like Sigourney Weaver and Alan Rickman on board, the film struggles to find its comedic footing. It’s disheartening to see such talented actors reduced to navigating predictable jokes and tired plot points. Weaver and Rickman, known for their ability to deliver complex, memorable performances, are wasted here, wading through uninspired gags.

While Galaxy Quest might hold nostalgic value for some, it’s hard to overlook its failings as a comedy. The jokes often feel forced and rarely hit the mark, making the experience more of a chore than a pleasure. However, the set design and special effects, particularly in the scenes aboard the NSEA Protector, do provide some mild amusement. They demonstrate the production team's dedication and creativity, but they ultimately can’t compensate for the lack of genuine humour.

The film’s concept—of washed-up actors mistaken for real space heroes—is intriguing, and its charm lies in its self-awareness and affection for the sci-fi genre. But for a movie aiming to spoof a beloved genre, it falls short of delivering anything memorable or amusing. Despite this, Galaxy Quest's unique take on the sci-fi genre has undoubtedly influenced future works, demonstrating the enduring power of its concept even if its execution falls short.

What Hidden City lacks in terms of excitement, it more than makes up for it with its unique humour and flair. It's worth a watch alone to see hidden parts of London that are normally off-limits.

James Cagney, the actor who best embodied the vitality of big-city life, finds a surprising yet perfect role as the brash Irish-American composer and dancer George M. Cohan, laureate of the American Dream.

However, the outdated propagandist patriotism and the use of blackface create discomfort that demands critical reflection. These problematic aspects overshadow the film's entertainment value, making it a difficult watch today.

A masterpiece of sheer subtlety and restraint, the Coen brothers' debut film is a refreshing original take on a seemingly simple story. They have managed to turn a tale of a sleazy bar owner, a cheating wife, and a bumbling private detective into a complex web of unnecessary complications, showcasing their unique ability to add unexpected depth to a plot.

Robot Dreams is a gorgeously animated film that brings the colourful chaos of 1980s New York to life. The city’s bold, vibrant tones make a fantastic setting and serve as a backdrop that enhances the emotional depth of this profoundly heartfelt story.

The storytelling flows effortlessly, tackling complex emotions with grace. You’ll easily connect with the characters, such as the lovable robot protagonist and his human companion, on their journeys of self-discovery and friendship. You'll share their ups and downs, from heartwarming moments to tear-jerking scenes, a testament to the strength of great storytelling.

Robot Dreams is a film that stays with you, offering a contemplative look at the relationships that mould us. It’s a beautiful testament to the emotional impact of animation. This film is a must-see for its emotional depth, breathtaking visuals, and the nostalgic charm of its 1980s New York setting. However, it's a bit of a stretch to imagine NYC ever being that pristine.

The Petrified Forest sets the stage for high drama—Humphrey Bogart's brandishing guns, after all—but curiously, no one seems bothered. What starts as a hostage situation quickly turns into something far more talkative. Leslie Howard effortlessly steals the limelight, even with Bette Davis and Bogie in the room. The film drifts into philosophical musings and flirtations. It really shouldn't work—but it does, seductively so. A touch more peril might've helped, but it's oddly delightful.

The Amateur feels more like a gripping 1970s thriller than the usual bang-bang spy fare we get today. Even the big moments unfold steadily, which I quite liked. Much of it feels familiar—not just from the 1981 original but countless spy flicks and telly dramas. Shifty bosses, confused agents, and the odd twist. It's fun in the moment, but it fades fast.