O Brother, Where Art Thou (2000)

“I slaughtered this horse last Tuesday. I'm afraid she's startin' to turn."

I've blogged close to 600 films but, to my shame, nothing by the Coen Brothers until now. Yes, I know. And I’m suitably rebuked by how extraordinarily wonderful this film is. It manages to work both as a magnificent piece of art and as splendidly entertaining drama.

So yes, the sepia-tinged cinematography is impressive, and yes, the influence of The Odyssey is obvious- Big Dan is a hostile one-eyed giant, there are literal sirens, there may not be literal transmogrification but Delmarvis convinced that Pete has been turned into a frog, and of course (Ulysses)- who arrogantly refuses help, especially from (the) God(s), is desperate to get back home before a suitor marries his wife.

But the film is really a splendid mix of picaresque encounters and ongoing character development which shows the grim, Depression-era state of Mississippi in all its deeply racist, superstitious and corrupt barbarism. This depressing setting is leavened by lots and lots of wonderful humour, hiding a pessimistic message under its sugar; the evil, Ku Klux Klan cultist politician is the reformer, and his downfall leads to the corrupt incumbent cynically using the Soggy Bottom Boys to continue his cronyism, pardoning then at a stroke but not necessarily improving the lives of his constituents. But that evil secret society is still there and still lynching, prison conditions are abhorrently barbaric, with convicts breaking rocks pointlessly all day while the black ones are called “boy”, and desperate poverty pervades everything.

But against that is music, which makes life worth living, and so we have one of the greatest soundtracks in cinematic history. It is everywhere, giving much-needed colour to everyone’s lives. And so this film, about deeply desperate and suffering lives, which offers little hope, manages to be uplifting in spite of it all. A truly great film.

Batman & Robin (1997)

"This is why Superman works alone!”

Oh dear. What an absolutely terrible film. Incoherent, full of meaningless bangs and explosions, and with ridiculous overacting from Schwarzenegger and Thurman in particular, and a bafflingly miscast George Clooney who plays Batman as a generic superhero of the sort you simply can’t imagine beating up criminals for information like he used to when he was Michael Keaton.

Indeed, Clooney seems to be channelling Adam West as a goody-goody Batman but with absolutely none of the camp humour that was the whole point. And, after largely ditching Tim Burton’s moody darkness reflective of the ‘80s comics, this film drops it entirely. We may have the same Alfred and the same Jim Gordon, but this is otherwise unrecognisable from those distant-seeming Tim Burton days.

The whole thing is just cartoonish and silly. Arnie hams it up as Mr Freeze (always a rubbish villain) from the start, and those constant terrible puns completely erase any possible pathos that could potentially be supplied by his motivation to cure his wife. But even worse is the appallingly silly performance from Thurman, an otherwise talented actress, who completely sends up the character of Poison Ivy, although of course the script does that anyway. Bane is wasted as a generic henchman and Jason Woodrow just gets to be a generic mad scientist to twirl his moustache for a bit and get killed. The whole movie is a tick box exercise of featuring various characters for the sake of it and just wasting them.

Perhaps the worst case of this is Barbara Gordon, although for some reason here she’s Alfred’s niece instead of Jim’s daughter- she unexpectedly turns up from England without telling anyone, for some reason wearing her school uniform, and claims to be English although Alicia Silverstone isn’t bothering with the accent. And then plot convenience let’s her discover the Batcave and a costume that Alfred made for her on the off-chance(!), and she duffs up Poison Ivy in spite of having no apparent combat experience or athletic prowess. This is all just very silly.

And I haven’t even mentioned THOSE nipples, and the scenes with Batman and Robin bidding in the millions for Poison Ivy. Can we just end the franchise now? Oh.

From Dusk Till Dawn (1996)

"Yeah, he's right. Peter Cushing does that all the time.

It's been twenty-odd years since I last saw this film and it is, in hindsight, even better now than it was then, courtesy of some truly splendid direction and a sparkling script from the premier exponent of metatextual hyper-violence, Mr Quentin Tarantino.

The film is, of course, famous for feeling like typically Tarantinoesque crime caper until the final forty-five minutes of the film where it suddenly pivots genre and introduces a load of vampires and magnificently rattles through a load of vampire tropes like a boss. Throughout it all both the dialogue and the delightful levels of violence make the film an absolute pleasure to watch, and the acting (Clooney excepted as the pretty face but Tarantino very much included) is top notch throughout.

The whole thing really does come across as just effortlessly masterful and splendidly cinema-literate to boot, and that's before a particularly alluring Salma Hayek and all her mates at the Titty Twister (love the name) turn into vamps. But the final scene provides a superb explanation of exactly why the place has always been home to vampires leeching off the public. Magnificent in every way.