Scream (1996)

 "There's a formula to it. A very simple formula.

Best horror film of all time? That's a hard question. But this is a work of genius. It does a lot of violence, but as much of it is directed at the fourth wall as to the killings of Ghostface.

The metatextuality is as exquisite now as it was then. I mean, watching this in 2023 one winces at the passing of time, that we no longer living in a world of landlines, video shop and the great state of California being guilty of judicial killing. Yet we have Randy outlining the rules of how not to get killed in a horror movie. We have a character declare that A Nightmare on Elm Street was great but the sequels were not, in a film directed by Wes Craven. Hmm. We have so many references. After this point, is a straight, non-metatextual slasher truly even possible?

This is a wonderful thing, a B movie genre turned into very clever, if very fun, riffing on all sorts of postmodern stuff. It's very clever indeed. Yet it's accessible.This is a Hollywood horror hit. And it's not lowbrow. There is hope for humanity, and this is the highlight of Craven's career.

The cast is superb, although the ensemble outshines Neve Campbell. The opening set piece is the perfect set up, with Drew Barrymore selling it to perfection. Yet, despite the very meta humour, the whole thing is structured as a perfect slasher, with the big reveal handled very well indeed. This is, simultaneously, a superb horror film and a superb deconstruction. One of the best of its decade.

Batman Forever (1995)

“It's the car, right? Chicks love it."

 Incredibly, I've never seen this until now, after 23 years.After the two gritty Tim Burton films, which I'd seen at the cinema and enjoyed, I wasn't impressed by the prospect of a film that dialled down the atmosphere and just tried to tell an exciting story.

So did I enjoy it? Well, yes, it's a fairly good Hollywood blockbuster action film, and it's even pretty good with the Batman mythos- we get a pretty good Robin origin with the Flying Graysons and the character is made not to look silly, which is no small achievement, even if the fact that the Flying Graysons all wear costumes while performing that Dick's eventual Robin costume will pretty much mirror means that it's pretty obvious who Robin really is, so Bruce's secret is shot too. But then, in this film at least, it pretty much is anyway.

I also like both Tommy Lee Jones' performance as Two-Face and the fact they only did his origin in flashback. But the Riddler, well, Jim Carrey is really annoying and the riddles are a bit perfunctory, the character seemingly being really about those silly brainwave machine thingies; this doesn't really feel like the Riddler.

Also, Joel Schumacher's directorial style is so very generic Hollywood compared to Tim Burton's unique and very fitting style, and even Gotham itself suddenly looks just like an ersatz New York, complete with Statue of Liberty, rather than the Gothic, Expressionist nightmare we've become used to. This is connected to the first two films only by Pat Hingle, Michael Gough, and the design of all of Batman's stuff. And Brude actually gets a girlfriend and still has her when the film ends- what's going on?

Plus Val Kilmer is, if not awful, not great either, and not a patch on Michael Keaton. This just isn't the same introverted, brooding character. But then this isn't really part of the same series of films in any meaningful sense. It's pure Hollywood spectacle, done well but with no real depth or meaning.

Donnie Darko (2001)

"Every living creature on Planet Earth dies  alone."

This is the greatest film of the twenty-first century so far. I thought so the first time round, when I saw this film back when it first came out in my uni days, and I think so now. It's beautifully and meaningfully shot, it has definite yet undefined themes, and it oozes a profundity that can't be nailed down to anything so banal as a specific meaning. And in retrospect it comes from a turn-of-the-millennium golden age of films like this. It's only been thirteen years, but I couldn't imagine Donnie Darko being made now.

From the start we establish that it's going rive beautifully shot. We establish that the soundtrack is going to be awesome, too; it doesn't get much better than Echo and the Bunnymen's "Killing Moon". From the beginning there's a visual emphasis on the contrast between the banal suburban existence from 1988 (fittingly, the year of Morrisey's "Everyday Is Like Sunday") and the slow motion acid trip of the camerawork, establishing a stranger and more beautiful world than dinner tables, 1980s interior decor and put downs of Michael Dukakis.

The debate over politics (and it's sobering, from a modern perspective, that a relative centrist like Bush the Elder could never run for the presidency over politics today) establishes the family dynamic; Elizabeth, the eldest, is the political rebel, Donnie is a very strange boy, and the family is a pretty normal kind of dysfunctional.

Donnie Darko is a fairly standard Holden Caulfield type- adolescent, rebellious, bookish- but things get a little stranger once he's woken up by a giant talking a rabbit- introduced, naturally, by an eerie soundscape. He's not at all displeased, being an angst-ridden teen, that the world will end in "28 days, six hours, 42 minutes, 12 seconds". 

Our slow introduction to the school environment  is helped along by a slow montage and a splendid "alternative 80s" soundtrack. It's weird to me, as a Brit, to see the superb and sexy Drew Barrymore, teaching Graham Greene, saying "barrow boy" in an American accent(!), but she's a parallel to Donnie; older, more mature yet also alienated. Also alienated is Cherita, with Donnie, who is certainly alienated, the only one who is nice to her.

Not at all alienated, on the surface at least, is the slimy, authoritarian snake oil salesman Cunningham, alongside his stupid teacher accomplice. But Gretchen Ross is pleasingly alienated, which is why  we want her and Donnie to get together. Donnie doesn't get in trouble for flooding the school but he gets in trouble for challenging Cunningham's vacuous bullshit, which is a very valid commentary on the prevalence of such bullshit and, worse, that it is so widely believed. 

Donnie doesn't want to die alone, but he can't bring himself to believe in a God, much like myself. I don't understand the significance of the wormholes or the time travel stuff, but perhaps the point is partly that, on four dimensional space-time, death is not the end but just a point in our four-dimensional lives. It's the nearest we atheists can get to eternal life.

It's narratively satisfying to see Cunningham revealed as a paedophile, and appropriate that it should be Donnie burning his house down that reveals this. But the world is ending. So we must have a party, a type of party where people dance to Joy Division the mystery of who Frank is gets revealed, but the ending, while deeply satisfying, is mysterious; time reverses so that Donnie dies in the plane crash; he sacrifices all this extra time he had so that the world will not end for others. His life therefore has meaning. Death is absurd but, for this existentialist film, God is dead so it is our choices that matter.