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.

Fifty Shades Darker (2017)

"I hope you're not a sore loser."

"That depends on how hard you spank me..."

I've already gone into detail about my misgivings about the abusive relationship at the heart of this trilogy- and again, it isn't the BDSM part that's dodgy- and nothing has changed on that front. But this film, admittedly, is less dull to watch and somewhat more entertaining, not that it's particularly good.

On the positive side it doesn't feel so much like a sequel as the middle portion of the story, and one which doesn't have to introduce any of  the characters and can just get on with it, avoiding the common fate of sequels. The directorial style, too, is different; James Foley hasn't quite given us the stylishness of Sam Taylor-Wood but the colours are not so washed out, which is definitely a good thing.

It's still a bit problematic to have a rich man as a wish-fulfilment figure, though, even if the BDSM takes a bit of a back seat in favour of a mild kinkiness- but it's disturbing to hear Grey state that he's not so much a dominant as a "sadist" who had a dodgy childhood and gets off on hurting women who remind him of his mother. In fact I'm not sure that this kind of background is at all conducive to being a suitable dominant. In real life I'd have a hard time seeing a relationship with any such figure as anything other than decidedly dodgy, however much money was sloshing around.

The film is well-acted. especially by the extra star wattage of Kim Basinger as Elena, however shocking her plastic surgery may look. This is not exactly a film with a great deal of intrinsic merit, but at least it's made well and is a marked improvement on its predecessor.

9½ Weeks (1986)

"I almost waited too long."

Oh dear. I've blogged some bad films in my time but this is by far the worst, committing that most unforgivable of sins: dullness. Even the sex scenes are as slow and boring as the film itself.

For what it's worth, both Kim Basinger and a pre-plastic surgery Mickey Rourke actually bother, for some reason, to give interesting performances, but sadly this does not detract from the fact that nothing seems to happen over two whole hours. The conceit, which is nowhere near as clever as it thinks it is, is a sexual attraction between two urban and alienated individuals who proceed to have various kinds of mildly interesting yet ultimately meaningless sex, yet ultimately fail to develop a proper relationship because of the lack of anything deeper to the relationship. That's it. Really. No need to watch the film now that you've read that. Even the sex scenes really are as slow and boring as everything else.

Part of the problem is the interminable pace, which is the director'a fault for the most part- so many slow scenes of people looking at each other across a room and doing nothing- and part of it is a total lack of charm or humour within the script: this doesn't exactly qualify as a "romantic comedy".

Having said all that, at least the wife and I were amused by the ending and its "walking away music", just like with Bill Bixby at the end of every episode of The Incredible Hulk...

Never Say Never Again (1983)

"Now you're on this, I hope we're going to have some gratuitous sex and violence."

And so we come to the second Bond film of 1983, and a very unofficial one. It has a sparkling Sean Connery who, though 53, is still younger than Roger Moore, and it also has the sole rights to Ernst Stavro Blofeld. Unfortunately it lacks the rights to an awful lot of things, including the rights to do anything other than a remake of Thunderball, the only Bond film up to this point that ice actively not enjoyed. So is it any good?

Well, actually, yes. It's certainly more humorous than any other Bond film but not, I think, to an excessive degree; it's a proper Bond film, not a spoof. Connery is on particularly fine form and the script has a lot of witty fun with what turns out to be a very loose remake.

The film takes advantage of having to recast roles, with Edward Fox giving us a grumpy new M while the new Q, "Algy", is a chirpy cockney whose department is much reduced. No fancy gadgets here. Kim Basinger makes a splendid Bond girl and it would have been quite, quite wrong if Max Von Sydow had never got to play Blofeld.

It's a very different Bond film and yes, the computer game sequence is dated and weird, but this is a perfectly fine Bond film.