The Bed Sitting Room (1969)

 "Radiation's rising. Still, one mustn't grumble too much.

I'm full of sesations from this extraordinary film. It contains multitudes. It is, I admit, my only experience of a Spike Milligan (co-)script, full of irreverent absurdity, the sort which wqould later begat a less overtly successor in Monty Python.

Thetre is much more, though. Despite the very British humour that anchors everything, this is a cinematic adaptation of an absurdist play that feels like Joan Littlewood's Theatre Workshop, which is high praise indeed. It's a post-apocalyptic world, set in the near future to 1969, with absurdity upon absurdity. Yet it's grim, in the traditions of Ionesco and Beckett. Indeed, the constant cynicism in the face of nuclear annihilation and the equally cynical, yet glorious, skewering of the British "stiff upper lip" denies us even the consolations of existentialism.

Despite this, the humour is exquisite. Realism being abandoned, we may use the setting to skewer British behaviour. Hence Arthur Lowe (genius casting) as the father, leaning heroically and deeply into another sort of comedy. I suspect, in person, over a pint, he would have been no Captain Mainwaring. Despite Peter Cook, Michael Hordern and others, his performance stands out. Beyond, even, that of Nurse Marty Feldman.

I can only urge you to saee this triumph of British comedy cinema which, deaspite its clear absurdist bent, is full of genus humour of the type one may expcct. You MUST see this film.

Inspector Morse: Service of All the Dead

 "I'll never understand these religious types."

"That's because you have no soul, Morse."

I can't quite put my finger on why this episode was good but not great, unlike its two predecessors. I've had four pints of Doom Bar, of which I hope Morse would approve. I enjoyed the novel, years ago. The plot and the revelations were fine. There was even much made of a quotation from St Augustine which has much amused me- "Lord, give me chastity, but not yet." Lord, if by any chance you should exist, in spite of your singular failure to provde empiracal evidence, please do no such thing. The missus would not be pleased.

This episode has persuaded me of one thing. If I were, should faith without proof cease to be a requirement, to become a Christian, I probably wouldn't be a High Church Anglican as I'd previously assumed because of culture and that. Like Morse, I find all that imagery of a tortured Christ to be unpleasantly morbid.

I like this episode, altgough it never quite catches fire. As a carer, I very much identify with the very lovely Ruth, a nicely nuanced character. Morse gets some good development in terms of his relationship with her, too: I'm starting to accept John Thaw's gentler version of the character. I am, perhaps, less inclined to accept that the white-haired Thaw was forty-five years old at this point, just a year older than I am today, with only grey flecks in my long hair although rather more in my long beard, and denying all wrinkles. I am not Gandalf yet.

Scrooge (1951)

"Humbug!"

Mrs Llamastrangler suggested that, as Gremlins counts as a Christmas film only on a technicality, I ought to do one (interpret that how you will) before the Chrimbo Limbo concludes. I think she had Jack Frost in mind, but heigh-ho...

Anyway, this is bloody good. Alastair Sim proves that actors associated with comedy can be truly arresting at straight drama- although his comic side is of course very much on display at the end..The entire cast is magnificent, though.

While bits are expanded from Dickens’ original novella, chiefly concerning how Scrooge got his wealth, this is a faithful adaptation, on the whole. The film deserves top marks, in particular, for taking care to include Dickens’ social commentary; the unreformed Scrooge refuses to forgive a debt, potentially forcing his unfortunate debtor to spend Christmas in a debtor’s prison, and announces that prisons and the Poor Law, cruel though they are, are a suitable response to poverty. Also it’s clear, in what we see of Scrooge’s past, that his hardness is a response to a perceived hardening of the world from the ore-factory age, when money wasn’t everything, to now (1843-ish?) where money is progress and traditional considerations for the less fortunate have fallen by the wayside. It’s very much about the problems of industrialisation, but it has much to say to That her’s children in this new age of austerity. And it’s heartening to see Christmas being set against all this, rather than as another commercial pressure.

It’s all full of Dickensisms, of course, from those inimitable character names to the poor working class family that inexplicably speaks RP, but that’s all part of the fun. This is the finest adaptation of A Christmas Carol that I’ve seen, very much including those with Muppets in...!

Labyrinth (1986)

"It's only forever. Not long at all."

This film is all about two departed individuals- Jim Henson, the creative mind behind a fantasy film whose fantastic beasts are, in the best possible way, Muppets; and the similarly missed David Bowie, arguably the greatest solo artist who ever lived and a true genius right up until the end. I can't help observing, though, that this major Hollywood starring role came at a time when his career had entered its mid-'80s slump, having failed to match the commercial success of Let's Dance and not really to experience a sustained career renaissance until (unorthodox opinion alert) Earthling. In this film he's the same age I am now, a sobering thought.

But what of the film? Well, it's '80s Hollywood fantasy in the best possible way, redolent of both Time Bandits and The NeverEnding Story in that it plucks a child from the world of the mundane and plucks them into a world of fantasy and adventure. Indeed, the first two thirds of the script bear the indelible imprint of the great Terry Jones, however much his contribution may have been changed. Certainly, the great Sir Didymus, a part of popular culture whom I am now finally able to know, reminds me of nothing more than the Black Knight from Monty Python and the Holy Grail which was, I believe, a Jones/Palin scene.

Jennifer Connelly is splendid as the teenage, fantasy obsessed lead and Bowie is, well, magnificently himself as the Goblin King, with plenty of musical numbers to match. I suspect the fantasy world is based on items within Sarah's bedroom; certainly the Escher painting finale is. And my fellow Doctor Who fans will be reminded not only of Castrovalva but, because of a certain riddle, Pyramids of Mars. It's a picaresque, absurdly humorous little movie that channels Alice in Wonderland in the most splendidly '80s way possible. Not to be missed.

Genghis Khan (1965)

"It is better to light one candle than to curse the darkness."

Oh dear. This film is not very good, Where to start? Well, how about with the arse-clenchingly awful fact that all but a very few characters are played by white actors in yellowface, with James Mason's jaw-droppingly stereotyped performance as Kam Ling being quite something to behold. No amount of accounting for the different social mores of 1965 can let us escape from the fact that this is all incredibly racist.

Oh, the location filming looks impressive and epic, and you can tell that the film is trying to be Lawrence of Arabia. But this is somewhat undermined by the fact that this is a film about Genghis Khan that focuses mainly around inter-Mongol squabbling, the extensive interlude in China doesn't particularly involve him conquering the place, and there's a general lack of conquering going on. In fact, late on in the film, a quick burst of narration jumps smoothly over the conquests of China, Russia and India and jumps unconvincingly into the conquest of Khwarezm. Where's all the stuff we want to see in a film about Genghis Khan?

I accept that a film like this has to show a certain amount of historical inaccuracy, but making the film mostly about the rival between Temujin and his Mongol rival Jamuga is such a waste. And so, ultimately, is the film.

Yellowbeard (1983)

"Three farthings for a lump of shit please..."

This film is, well, not all that good which, considering that two of its three writers were Peter Cook and Graham Chapman, is rather bewildering. But it just isn't much good. And it killed Marty Feldman.

That isn't to say that there are no laughs at all, of course, nor that it isn't a pleasure to see the talents of those in them tags down there, plus Spike Milligan, Nigel Planer and even an eyebrow-raising from a very Let's Dance era David Bowie. But the whole thing never really takes off, perhaps partly because the script isn't great but in large part, I suspect, to a rather flat directorial style with no comedic timing or flourishes. Also, I have to say, the constant rape jokes don't exactly make for comfortable viewing.

Still, Graham Chapman is good, as is Marty Feldman in his last film, although Peter Cook is somewhat wasted in a straight man role. And the character of El Nebuloso is superb, with the scenes of Cheech and Chong, the acid pool and the torture device being the closest the film gets to being Pythonesque. But the film as a whole is a bit of a damp squib and worth seeing only for Monty Python or Peter Cook completists.

Theatre of Blood (1973)

"Critics all make errors. We're only human."

"An opinion I find myself incapable of sharing!"

Before I'd even watched a frame of this it was abundantly clear that it was spiritually a second sequel to The Abominable Dr. Phibes; Vincent Price plays an eccentric craving revenge and drawn to carrying out a series of grotesque murders upon a particular theme. In this case, with Edward Lionheart being a bad Shakespearean actor (I wonder how Price reacted to being offered the part of a ham actor...?), the theme of the murders is Shakespeare, the Titus Andronicus one naturally being the best, the play being just as Grand Guignol as the film itself.

Such a premise cannot fail and, indeed, it doesn't. Unlike the Dr. Phibes films this is set in the present day, but otherwise it feels much the same and follows the same template. The plot may be predictable but it's all about the spectacle. Diana Rigg is superb as Lionheart's daughter and accomplice and the murdered critics include the likes of Arthur Lowe and Dennis Price. We even get a scene, Avengers fans, in which Diana Rigg and Ian Hendry are in a car together.

It may not be big, it may not be clever- although it certainly appeals to the Shakespeare geek- but it sure is fun.