Ghostbusters II (1989)

 "Being miserable, and treating other people like dirt, is every New Yorker's God given right!"

I hadn't seen this film since its original theatrical release in 1989, when I saw it at the old Cannon cinema in the towncentre. So, yes, it's been a while. Surprisingly, I did remember a few things.

This film, of course, was famously a flop, after which there wouldn't be any more Ghostbusters for a very long time. But... I can't really see why? This seems to me to be every bit as good as the original. This cast was always going to be superb. The script is great, with some very witty lines- I love the moment when a ghostly Titanic finally arrives in New York City and the man at the port says, deadpan, "Better late than never..."

The film is even about something- the threat is, essentially, a metaphor for the negative emotions stirred up in a big city and uses that concept to riff on the stereotypes and reputation of New Yorkers, as embodied by the quote above. It's a film absolutely about New York City, so of course we get a walking Statue of Liberty. It's a pity that Americans of today seem to have abandoned those nobler and old-fashioned values of, you know, welcoming the tired huddled masses and giving fascists the finger instead of voting for them.

So, yeah, the critics are just wrong here. This film is great. Yes, even the sex scene with Janine and Lewis.

Erik the Viking (1989)

 "Stay calm. This is not happening."

Oh dear. What went wrong here? We begin with a moderately well-scripted Pythonesque little scene about, er, rape (yes, quite), and then we seem to descend into quite the mess.

And yet... it's written and directed by Terry Jones, he of Monty Python fame, certainly someone with comic talent, many glimpses of which are seen here- it's a bad film, yes, and don't get me started on the dragon, but there are funny concepts and funny lines. Jones, of course, knows his mediaeval history, and there are references and in-jokes aplenty, many of which go over my head. There's a theme of belief that runs throughout- Harald the Missionary refuses to believe in the aspects of Norse myth that surround him, and cannot see them. The King of High Brazil and his subjects refuse to believe that their land is sinking beneath the waves. And Erik falsely believed that he is wearing an invisible cloak.

There are other little bits of cleverness. The Norse gods are played by children. And yet... overall, it falls flat. There's a clear plot, pretty much, but it all falls flat. This tries to be a Monty Python and the Holy Grail or a Time Bandits but... it isn't.

Then there's the performances. Jones himself is excellent, as is John Cleese as the delightfully evil Halfdan the Black. But so many of the cast fail to shine. And I suspect this offers us a clue: Terry Jones is a damn good writer and performer, and I don't think the script is at all the problem here... but he's just not a good enough director to helm a big blockbuster, at least on his own.

An interesting failure, then, and with nuggets to be found. But a failure nonetheless.

Tetsuo: The Iron Man (1989)

 "We can mutate the whole world to metal. We can rust the world to the dust of the universe.”

This is a very weird film indeed. You knew that. It makes no real narrative sense and has only the barest plot- a “metal fetishist”, fond of grafting random bits of metal into his flesh, is run over by a typical salaryman, who then finds himself being haunted and mutated as revenge. But the plot isn’t really the point. Well, except when it is.

We have so many utterly bizarre and disturbing set pieces. Thd maggots. The weirdest and most unnerving sex scene I may ever have witnessed. The most erotic use of a fork in all cinema.  All to a highly fitting industrial soundtrack which is brilliant in its own right. This is pure body horror, yet the use of metal suggests industry. There can be all sorts of potential metaphors here for what technological civilisation has done and is doing to humanity.

This is really just a series of loosely linked set pieces, and I suppose it has something in common with Un Chien Andalou and its ilk, despite the very different mood which owes as much to alternative culture as it does to the traditional models of ary. As that, it is superb, largely because of the excellence of the cinematography and soundtrack… and the fact that grainy black and white makes it so much less challenging to be convincingly surreal. Yet, beneath all that, there seems to be a subtext. The Industrial revolution, agriculture, all that... is it leading us only to twisted horrors?

Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure (1989)

 "Be excellent to each other!"

Obviously, I've seen this film a million times. That goes withoit saying. But that was before my blogging days, and it was in another century. And besides, the wench is... sorry.

Anyway. we all know the story, and how splendidly silly it is; Bill and Ted must manage not to flunk history (how do they pass everything else???!!!) in order to one day form the band that will end all war and poverty by being awesome. This proves that we metalheads will save the world, although presumbly with better guitars.

It's not about this. It's about the gleeful playfulness with history, the irreverence. It's about that late 80s rock zeitgeist. It's about Keanu Reeves' firsr venture into Hollywood, although Alex Winter is seemingly the more characterful of the two. It's about Napoleon and water slides.

It's about military schools, presented here as comedy, but... resder, if you have ever sent your child to one, taught in one, or endorsed their existence in any way, you are subhuman scum. That is all. Thank you.

It's about the coolness of shsdes in 1989. It's about how the phone box time machine is in no way the TARDIS, and how the very concept of a phone booth evokes such nostalgia in 2022.

This very silly and very cool film is not, on the surface, very clever. But thst's misleading as there's quite a lot going on, much of which breaks the fourth wall.

Friday the 13th Part VIII: Jason Takes Manhattan (1989)

 “There’s a maniac trying to kill us!”

“Welcome to New York.”

I know this film is supposed to be where it all goes wrong for good after the previous two instalments had managed to be bizarrely impressive instalments of a franchise which had, let’s be honest, been a bit rubbish until that point- after all, a franchise doesn’t knock up eight instalments over ten calendar years through rigorous quality control. So I watched this film expecting the usual rubbish to resume.

Except.. this is not actually a bad film at all. Yes, it’s a cheesy B movie with no stars that cheerfully leans into what were, even in 1989, long-established horror tropes. And yes, precious little of this film actually takes place in New York as opposed to most of the running time being spent with Jason killing teenagers one by one in the claustrophobic environment of a boat. But isn't that as it should be? This kind of slasher works best in a proper base under siege environment, and it works, with plenty of suspense and lots of fun with the absolute predictability of who's going to die next.

The New York scenes at the end are a kind of postscript, and that's fine. Having Jason wandering round a big city killing scores of anonymous people would have been much less fun than what we have here- the focus on a small gang of teenagers and teachers who may not be the most well fleshed out characters in cinematic history but all have easily recognisable characteristics which allow us to quickly grasp who they are. It works, and it's fun seeing why the victims deserve to die, from vanity (Julius); poor swim teaching technique and being a dick (Charles) and being the cokehead queen bee type (JJ).

Naturallyn the only survivors are clean cut lovers Rennie and Sean. But the fact this film leans into the tropes of its genre is only a problem if you don't like B movies. Sometimes we don't need high camp. Well-executed low camp can be good enough.

A Grand Day Out (1989)

“We’ve forgotten the crackers!”

This is a rather different short film to watch now, in 2019, knowing the massive industry Wallace & Gromit would shortly become, than it must have been back in ‘89. Oh, it’s a rather charming and gently funny animation of no little technical brilliance, certainly. It’s a love letter to stop motion, made on the cusp of the emergence of CGI.

Yet it’s also clearly an amateur work made by Nick Park with brilliance, a kettle of some string, and very little else. No teams of animators here: this first instalment is very much an independent film. It’s also interesting that Park, of Bristol, would choose so make Wallace so quintessential northern but this was, I think, a combination both of his earlier Creature Comforts and the late ‘80s zeitgeist.

Creature Comforts was a series of very short animations combining the voices of real people, not actors, many with accents not often heard on telly, with animations of animals with expressive yet naturalistic facial expressions. And all this, I think, feeds into a certain thing going on in the late ‘80s with Alan Bennett approaching the peak of his powers and popularity as a great yet very TV-friendly playwright (He had come a long way from Beyond the Fringe by this point, although I’d love to see his comedy series On the Margin, long junked by the BBC). In particular, this was the time of his series of short monologues called Talking Heads, short plays with one character- typically an elderly, northern woman- talking to camera. I thing there’s a lot of this aesthetic in Wallace.

Although, obviously, we also have a dog who does welding and a skiing fridge so, you know, there’s other stuff going on too. I thoroughly enjoyed and yes, indeed, I am just blogging what I happen to have seen over Christmas while the in-laws are here, just to keep the blog ticking over. I’m probably going to open a bottle of wine now and watch the penultimate episode of Union Jack while they all play their online computer game thingies. See you in a bit.

Back to the Future: Part II (1989)

" I know you just sent me back to the future, but I'm back. I'm back from the future."

"Great Scott!"

I’ve blogged a shocking 590 films, not including this one. That’s a lot. And I find, the more films I blog, the more I feel have to ration out those handful of absolute favourite films ever for fear of having none of them left to blog. But it’s getting a bit ridiculous that I still haven’t re-watched and blogged this, one of my favourite films of all time, so here it is. One day I may even get around to Part III.

Back to the Future was an excellent film to start with, but this is one of those rare cases where a sequel can outshine it’s predecessor. Re-watching this after a while just confirms how awesome it is- after the first film’s fairly simple time travel plot it’s incredible to see how cleverly this film makes a plot about time paradoxes that is actually rather complicated when you think about it, and makes it palatable for a mainstream blockbuster audience with oodles of charm. Even the reprise at the beginning manages to subtly smooth over the recasting of Jennifer and a rather less famous George.

As ever, Michael J. Fox is superb as Marty but it’s that splendid physical comedy performance as Doc by the great Christopher Lloyd that gives the film it’s charismatic heart. Doc doesn’t half talk a load of cobblers about the consequences of time travel that he couldn’t possibly be sure about but you just don’t care because Doc is so captivating. I laughed out loud this time at the “reveal” of his rejuvenation where he removes his rubber mask... and looks exactly the same. So let us not pry to closely at the fact he already looks pretty old in 1955 (Christopher Lloyd was 46 when they made the first film) and so must be pretty old by now. Let us raise an amused eyebrow as he says, having seen the alternate 1985, that he wants to fix everything, abandon time travel and turn to that other great mystery- women. On that note, let us merely raise an eyebrow as he, Mary and Jennifer are in that flying DeLorean in 2015, he gives Marty a glance, and renders Jennifer unconscious to stop her female prattling. A feminist he is not. This scene had me agog. Oh, and let us not pry too closely into his arbitrary ethics if time travel in which it’s ok to prevent Marty’s son going to prison but not ok to prevent Marty becoming “a loser”.

Never mind any of that. This film is wonderful, especially the farce at the end where the first film is happening in parallel, and they realised the importance of getting James Tolkan back as Mr Strickland. The parallel 1985 is horrible, a brilliant creation. And the 2015 is extremely amusing from the vantage point of now- the Jaws and Cafe 80s jokes are the same now as they were then but I was amused to spot a phone booth of all things. I love the antique shop. And I was highly amused to see that Marty Senior gets fired by... fax. Yes, well. It’s also interesting to see Biff watching that scene from the Clint Eastwood western...

If you don’t love this film, you’re wrong. That is all.

Pet Semetary (1989)

"Sometimes dead is better."

Another Stephen King film, then, and one in which he gets a cameo as a vicar... and I still haven’t read more than one obscure novella by him. I must remedy that.

This film is rather good, but a curious beast; there are no stars, unless you count Herman Munster and Lt Tasha Yar. And it doesn’t really feel like a horror film until the very end where a zombie toddler is running riot, being far more of a drama about what it’s like to lose a child- an unthinkable thing for any parent- much though the whole thing is tinged with a palpable sense of the macabre which feels, well, Stephen King.

The conceit is (cliche alert) that behind the burial ground for pets of the misspelled title there lies that old horror standby, the old Indian cemetery. This allows Dead things to be brought back to life, and be brought back to life wrong so, after an initial and fairly harmless first attempt with a cute little cat which proceeds to get all creepy and animatronic (is that a 1989 thing?) things start to get serious as the fanily’s little boy gets run over by a lorry. And presumably, this being Stephen King, this all happens in the state of Maine.

It’s a nice little understated film that chooses, I think rightly, to emphasise the mood of the macabre over shocks. One think is truly shocking, though- Jud drinks that undrinksble horse piss Budweiser and forces poor Louis to drink the foul liquid. Have neither of them heard of actual beer? And why does Louis pronounce his name “Louis” but pronounce it “Lewis”? It’s most odd.

But all is forgiven as the end credits roll and we hear the splendid sound of the Ramones, everybody’s favourite all-dead New York proto-punk band. “Pet Semetary” is no “Judy Is a Punk” or “53rd and 3rd” but it does the business.

A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child (1989)

“Nine, ten, he’s back again...”

This is the fifth film in the series and, you know, it’s not at all bad. Oh, there are diminishing returns and there’s an awful lot more time spent on drama than on big set pieces, but the film is pretty good and even, in terms of the direction, design and effects, the best so far. Well, if you ignore one very obvious and very prominent matte painting.

This is the third consecutive film with continuing elements, with Alice as the hero, this time pregnant with a baby whose dreams allow Freddy to return- a nice thematic link to Freddy’s own birth and his mother Amanda. To an extent it’s a similar format to the previous film, with various teenagers (including boyfriend Dan) being girlie killed one by one, except this isn’t quite as dramatic as previous films with the focus on the pregnancy and Yvonne’s scepticism, and the set pieces not being quite as good. Still, I enjoyed Mark’s comic book death, and not only because I recognised a couple of those 1989 vintage Marvel comics littering his floor. The death may be lacking in blood but is gloriously creative and well done, even if I do suspect the influence of the video to A-Ha’s “Tale on Me”. On the other hand, the foetus scene may be an influence on the video to Massive Attack’s “Teardrop”...

Mrs Llamastrangler loves this and I found it visually brilliant- the M.C. Escher stuff at the climax was superb- but perhaps the script was a little more pedestrian than the realisation. Still, the franchise is still looking pretty healthy as the decade ends.

Cyborg (1989)

“I like the misery!”

 The hero of this glorious late '80s Cannon Films, er, , played by the esteemed M. Van Damme himself, is called Gibson Rickenbacker. The baddie is called Fender. Really. That is a thing that happened.

The film is a hugely entertaining time capsule from the late '80s heyday of Cannon films, written in order to make use of sets made for a Masters of the Universe sequel and a Spider-Man film, neither of which would ultimately materialise. It's 1989, so we have a post-apocalyptic, post-plague and vaguely gothy future, no doubt influenced by those Mad Max sequels I haven't seen yet. The delightfully scenery-chewing B-movie baddie wears shades, for that is the zeitgeist, and there's a cyborg lady who's vaguely relevant to the plot, because everybody's read Neuromancer. If only there were some mention of cyberspace we'd have reached peak late '80s sci-fi zeitgeist in B-movie form. I mean, the baddies are called the Flesh Pirates. What's not to love about that?

Anyway, this is an entertaining and visually impressive little melodrama, with a gruff, post-apocalyptic who is persuaded by, you guessed it, an attractive young lady to stop just brooding about revenge and actually save the world for once. There are some rather good set pieces, including a crucifixion, no less. And the film dosn't outstay its welcome. The music is trying very hard to be Vangelis, just to borrow a bit of Blade Runner street cred, but is actually surprisingly good, even if the visuals do seem to cry out for something much gothier- Sisters of Mercy perhaps?

Anyway, a delightfully silly load of old tosh that I enjoyed muchly. Highly recommended to those, like myself, who enjoy this sort of thing.

Batman (1989)

"Where does he get those wonderful toys?”

In one sense, and one sense only, this film parallels 1978’s Superman; both of DC’s flagship heroes, in spite of a long and varied Hollywood past, celebrated their fiftieth anniversaries with a whopping big, and rather successful, Hollywood blockbuster. But there the similarities end, because this is a Tim Burton film. And Tim Burton is far more interesting than Hollywood blockbusters.

It’s worth stepping back, though; 1989 was a long time ago, and I was only 12 when I saw this at my local Cannon cinema. But the popular perception of Batman was at best ambiguous, and largely coloured by the magnificent but very singular Adam West TV series, at that time being constantly repeated on UK television. And, after all, the dark, ‘80s version of Batman had only existed for a small percentage of the character’s fifty year history. After an admittedly dark, but very pulp introduction in 1939, it didn’t take long for Batman to morph into decades of Dick Sprang square-jawed straight heroism, which remained in place until the late 1960s. And even the 1970s “Darknight Detective” was very different from the darker 1980s tales of Frank Miller and Alan Grant. This film was, more or less, the introduction of this darker Batman to a wider public.

Tim Burton is, therefore, an inspired choice. This isn’t the Tim Burton we thing of today, of course; all whimsy CGI, a certain style, Helena Bonham Carter and a pre-meltdown Johnny Depp. No; it’s only 1989, and he’s not even done Edward Scissorhands yet. Nevertheless, Burton has a thing for design, and for Gotham it matters. Anton Furst’s cityscape is in some ways the real star of the film, a dark Art Deco. Even the retro fashions- men wear hats with their suits, evoking old gangster films- enhance the atmosphere. Michael Keaton is a deliberate statement as casting choice. And Kack Nicholson is magnificent in exactly the way you’d expect. Kim Basinger is good enough to obscure the fact that the character of Vicki Vale is only there as a token piece of prominent oestrogen in what would otherwise be a sausage fest, and Michael Gough is a fine, grandfatherly Alfred.

Perhaps the fight choreography is a little lacking, but in a film that looks this good and is so well-conceived that’s a minor touch; I can forgive Burton for not being an action film director. And it’s interesting that this Batman relies far more on gadgets than any great physical athleticism. Far more even than usual it makes you wonder why everyone doesn’t know that Bruce Wayne is Batman; after all, he’s the only person in Gotham who can afford all that stuff.

That aside, though, this film is easily as good as I remember it and, in the way it really-presented the character, arguably the most important Batman feature film.

The BFG (1989 TV Film)

"I think, on the whole, I prefer the bagpipes."

This magnificently quirky (and somewhat druggy feeling) animation from Cosgrove Hall of Dangermouse and Count Duckula fame is obviously a superb and enormously fun rendering of Roald Dahl's wonderful novel, well cast with the BFG being rather predictably played by a rather good David Jason, although I have no idea what accent that is supposed to be. Still, it's wonderful, superb, excellent. Watch it now; it was a British TV movie in 1989 so relatively few people worldwide will have done so.

It would be churlish, therefore, to sit here and poke holes is the plot of a film (and novel) which is truly wonderful and has brought joy to millions. Unfortunately, I'm a bit of a churl.

So, firstly, how on Earth did the BFG get started with all this psychedelic dream stuff? Why is he the only giant to have a job, for which he seemingly isn't paid? Why do the other giants not know about the dreamland and how is he managing to keep the secret? Why are there only nine of them? How do they reproduce, as they all seem to be male? How does their economy function to keep them in nicely furnished houses?

And then there's the constitutional scandals. Queen Elizabeth II is seen directing military activities without Parliamentary oversight! The head of Sophie's orphanage is subjected to cruel extra-judicial punishment by the monarch in direct contravention of both Magna Carta and the Bill of Rights! And Sophie is released into the custody of some strange tall bloke who had made no provision for either her education or health needs. Have social services been informed?

This may be a charming if somewhat druggy film that is justifiably remembers with much fondness, yes. But wait until Charter 88 hears about this...

The Punisher (1989)

"Who sent you?"

"Batman!"

I was pleasantly surprised by this film, I have to say. Not that it's any good, of course; it's a trashy '80s action film starring Dolph Lundgren and is neither big nor clever. What it is, though, is highly entertaining in all it's glorious trashiness throughout. A melodrama may be all it is, but it works.

The film starts with a crude but efficient combination of set piece and exposition which introduces us to Frank Castle, what he does and his backstory. The character isn't very deep, so an actor like Lundgren is all that's required and, moreover, the opening set piece features a doomed baddie who is portrayed with enormous quantities of ham. But the film soon settles down into it's entertaining Mafia vs Yakuza plot, with a bit of buddy buddy cop stuff thrown in there too. The film is well enough shot in its Australian locations and Jeroen Krabbe is also good enough as the mob boss forced to work with Castle. Even the child actors are mostly adequate.

It's all very late '80s, of course, from the music to the hardline attitude to crime, and one thing that really dates it is the subtext (probably not intentional; the film isn't that clever) of Japan gradually overtaking the USA economically, as everyone seemed to think was happening at the time. There's lots of martial arts action, with even the opening titles looking a bit like a martial arts film.

I like Snake too, a much needed comedy character and someone there to remind us of the extremely dodgy ethics of vigilante murder and how it's victims are not only the guilty; the film is hardly philosophical but it avoids presenting the Punisher as a hero, and I like that. The film is what it is, but for me it was both enjoyable and, ignoring small details, a more or less faithful rendering of the comic book character. This is more worth watching than you probably thought.

The Return of Swamp Thing (1989)

"They call me... Swamp Thing!"

I looooved this. Am I allowed to say that? In fact I, er, actually prefer it to the first film.

It's interesting to see a sequel made in 1989, after Alan Moore's acclaimed run on the comic book and even opening with some of Steve Bissette and John Totleben's more famous panels to the splendid and inevitable tones of Creedence Clearwater Revival. Would this film reflect that justly famous run? Well, there's a scene where Swamp Thing feeds Abby a suspiciously phallic seed from a certain part of his body. But, er, no. This film doesn't at all try to be poetic but goes full on B movie and isn't afraid to be silly. Thing is, it works.

I've seen this film described many times as overly silly, which puzzles me; wit and humour are part of life, and are well balanced here. Many potemtially po-faced and dull action films would be improved by this sort of humour. And, er, it's funny. Even the casting of Heather Locklear as a very valley girl Abby works somehow. It isn't just that though- the direction is technically inspired, the casting may be eccentric but we get entertaining performances just the right side of camp, Sarah Douglas is in it, and Swamp Thing gets his own little '80s fanfare. We even get some very '80s porn-loving kids as the chorus. What more do you want?

Licence to Kill (1989)

"There's more to this than just your personal vendetta!"

Meh. After a good Bond film we get a very late '80s action thriller, all very War On Drugs and macho, very Arnie or Sly or Bruce but not awful, if pretty average for its type- and then James Bond is crowbarred into this genre he doesn't suit, and it all gets rather awkward.

Essentially, Bond is the best man at Felix Leiter's wedding, a drug lord has Leiter's bride murdered and leaves Leiter for dead, and Bond spends the film out for revenge, in spite of the official disapproval but unofficial help from Q, and even an unofficial "good luck" from M. The whole thing feels utterly out of character, which is a shame because Timothy Dalton is outstanding here. But the whole thing stinks of '80s antihero vigilantism and the sort of depressingly uncritical view of the WR on Drugs that you would expect from 1989. Still, Robert Davi is superbly menacing as Sanchez.

This isn't a bad film, per se; as a film of its type it's perfectly decent if not great. But as a Bond film it adds nothing to the character or the franchise. Vigilantism bad; law and order good. That goes right back to Aeschylus and Bond really should know better.

Henry V (1989)

"I'm afeared there are few die well that die in battle, for how can they charitably dispose of anything when blood is their argument?"

This is the second screen adaptation of this play that I've seen and blogged after The Hollow Crown, albeit one made twenty-three years earlier, and the differences are stark from the opening scene, where Derek Jacobi's chorus awakens us by lighting a match. This introduces two themes: this production's constant okay with light and it's claustrophobic feeling, indoors and on small sets as much as possible and with the location scenes shot so as not to look expansive. Hal finds the crown as uneasy as did his father is the clear message, and his guilt over being an usurper's son, paralleled by his anxiety over the war being just (because sending people to their deaths and their bereaved dependants into penury because of who should be King is totally just, right?) is reflected in the visuals.

Kenneth Branagh is a suitably angsty Henry. Yes, the speeches are present and correct, but this is not a jingoistic Henry V but an anxious one.

The rest of the cast excellent too, including a surprisingly unshouty Brian Blessed, whose message to Charles VI reeks of a menace he hasn't exuded since he was Augustus in I, Clavdivs. And, on top of those mentioned in the tags, we didn't have room for Derek Jacobi, Robbie Coltrane as a splendid Falstaff in scenes nicked from the Henry IV's, Robert Stephens, Paul Scofield, Harold Innocent and a very young Christian Bale. I particularly enjoyed Ian Holm's Fluellen, discoursing on Pompey the Great- for Shakespeare, all Welshmen are in some way his old classics teacher!

This is a superbly visual production, superlatively acted and directed. The emphasis on sparse lighting, points of light in the darkness and claustrophobia gives us an individual version of the play from Kenneth Branagh that is highly effective. A fine film.

Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989)

"Indiana? We called the dog Indiana!"

And so we come to the last and easily the best of the original trilogy. And, given the high quality of the other two films, that's a bloody big achievement.

So why is Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade so bloody good? Well, it's partly because they've clearly thought long and hard about what worked best in the other two films, and they've rightly decided that Raiders of the Lost Ark is worth mining for the good stuff. So Marcus is back. So is Sallah. So, most importantly, are the Nazis. You've got to have Nazis.

There's also an outstanding cast. Ice tagged a few below, but there wasn't room for the likes of Alexei Sayle, Vernon Dobtceff, an uncredited Michael Sheard as Hitler or even River Phoenix as the young Indy. But the real casting coup is, of course, the ever-charismatic Sean Connery as Dr Henry Jones, Senior. Connery is simply excellent here. So good, in fact, that he even condescends to not sound like he's from Edinburgh for once.

Said opening sequence, with young Indy and the train full of circus animals, is superb, and not only because it reminds me of the contemporary 8 bit computer game. It even attempts to explain the origin of Indy's fear of snakes, but it wisely doesn't reveal too much about his mysterious father who, indeed, is held back until just the right moment.

The plot itself is very Raiders of the Lost Ark without being in any way too slavishly similar. And what can outdo the Ark of the Covenant but the Holy Grail? 

As per the previous film we get a series of outstanding set pieces- I love the airship- but the outstanding chemistry between Harrison Ford and Connery adds so much more. Connery is having great fun with a superb character and his presence pushes Ford to ever greater heights: this is one of the most entertaining cinematic double acts ever. 

And then we come to the climax. The "invisible" bridge falls just short of the supernatural, but Donovan's gruesome death at imbibing the false Grail is delightfully gruesome, and the whole climax is deeply satisfying which, er, sounds a bit ruder than intended.

Possibly one of the greatest adventure films ever. Personally I dread to think just how many times I've seen it.