Octopussy (1983)

"You must be joking! 007 on an island populated exclusively by women? We won't see him till dawn...!"

Now that's more like it. Exotic locations, high stakes, great set pieces... the Bond franchise has got its mojo back. Well, unless you happen to be a coulrophobe, that is. Then you'd have problems.

It's the early '80s, the Raj is all the rage and Bond hasn't done India yet, so Octopussy gets a fantastic setting with Delhi, the Taj Mahal, and even a massive hunt riding elephants during which Bond meets a tiger. For a baddie we have Kamal Khan, an exiled Afghan prince who, for some reason, is working with the Soviets, his natural enemies or so one would have thought, but it makes for a good film. The real baddie has a Cold War flavour for once in the shape of Steven Berkoff's nuke-happy Russian general, Orlov, although our old friend Gogol is around to stop things going too far. 1983 is a somewhat appropriate year to raise the spectre of nuclear annihilation, of course...

Roger Moore is 55 and looks it, but he just about gets away with it: his charisma and acting chops are as impressive as ever. Maud Adams is an ok Bond hgirl too, although for once the set pieces tend to outshine both the sex and the baddies.

This film is absolutely the least like the source material of any so far (the Fleming short story is actually about an octopus), but how can you dislike a film where Q turns up in a hot air balloon? After two duds, Bond is back on track.

Forbidden Planet (1956)

"Sorry, Miss. I was giving myself an oil job."

Wow. After all the '50s sci-fi B movies I've seen so recently this is a revelation. It's a fiercely intelligent updating of The Tempest that looks superb and actually makes you think. This isn't what I was expecting at all. I was so surprised that it took me embarrassingly long to work out which one was Leslie Nielsen.

Every aspect of the design is sheer class, right down to the lettering in the opening titles, and this film defines the look of American TV science fiction for years to come or, in the case of Lost in Space, gets shamelessly ripped off. It's also worth mentioning how, in 1956, it was still quite unusual for films to depict humans exploring other planets.

But even more extraordinary is the soundtrack, which is brilliant and adds so much to the atmosphere. The sound effects are outstanding and the music- an eerie, alienating, theremin-infused score that evokes Stockhausen and other contemporary composers- is incredible.

The plot is, of course, basically The Tempest with a bit of Freud thrown in, but the way it's told is riveting, based as it is on characters with actual traits and personalities, a rarity in '50s sci-fi.

Yes, I know it's the planet of the matte paintings, there's some misogyny directed at Alta, the crew are all disturbingly white, and I rolled my eyes a bit at the characters boasting about their IQ's, but there's not much to complain about in this extraordinary film. I can't believe I waited so long to see it.

(As a Doctor Who fan it's clear to me just how influential this story has been. It clearly inspired all of Planet of Evil, right down to the costumes, and it's now obvious where the invisible beasts attacking the perimeter came from in Face of Evil.)

Marvel's Agent Carter: Smoke & Mirrors

"You can be whatever you want."

At last we have an episode which is directly, rather than implicitly, about the misogyny and glass ceilings present in 1947 and, let us not be complacent, today. It does this by means of a structural parallel between young Peggy (Margaret Elizabeth Carter!) and young Whitney Frost (Aggie) as they grow up as girls and young women in a man's world.

Peggy never was "ladylike" as a girl but learns to confirm, turning down the chance of a really cool job with the SOE to marry a dull bloke, be a housewife, be boring. It's her brother (Edward Seymour from The Tudors) who convinces her otherwise, albeit in large part by getting shot, and she never looks back.

Aggie grew up in much more humble circumstances, her genius-level intellect irrelevant as her mother shagged a creepy bloke ("Uncle Bud") in order to keep above watt. The harsh lesson she learns is that no one cares about women's' brains, just their looks, and she exploits this to become a Hollywood star.

Meanwhile, Sousa, Peggy and Jarvis discover that the whole conspiracy extends deep into the establishment, deep enough to (officially) stymie their investigation. Now it's just the three of them, although Sousa is justly annoyed at not being included from the start.

The attraction between Peggy and Wilkes continues to grow ("Still, it must be very... frustrating!") as the script acknowledges, without explaining, the mystery of how he can survive without food. He feel tired, drawn to give up and be taken to... where? Meanwhile, Whitney reveals to Calvin exactly what has happened to her. This season just gets better and better.

Watchmen (2009)

"Never compromise. Not even in the face of Armageddon.

Never have I been so favourably surprised by a film. Yes, Alan Moore refused to be associated with it for the usual (understandable) reasons and yes, Watchmen is as much about its form as its content, and form doesn't translate to other media. But that doesn't make it unfilmable, and I'd say this is the best possible cinematic version of Watchmen. The characters, the plot, the aesthetic- barring a major departure for the ending of the film it's an extremely faithful adaptation.

The cast, none of whom are huge stars, are perfect with the exception of Matthew  Goode, whose American accent is deeply unconvincing- and I'm a Brit. Jackie Earle Haley, so rubbish as Freddy Krueger in the remake of A Nightmare on Elm Street, is a revelation as Rorschach, seemingly born to play the role.

I won't comment on the plot other than to urge people to read the original, but the film made me ponder the contrast between the Comedian and Rorschach, both dangerous Far Right borderline Nazis but very different. Not only is the Comedian a completely amoral bastard but we're further alienated from him by the fact that his place in the narrative is to be seen and understood through other characters, not on his own terms: we see his exterior actions, and subjective versions at that. It's quite a contrast from the way we are made privy, through the device of the diary, to Rirschach's interior monologue. Both are psychopaths but we are made privy to Rorschach's poor and unpleasant upbringing, while his misogyny and distrust of sex strongly imply that he is, definitely unlike Edward Blake, a virgin. And yet... both are equally reactionary and equally psychopathic. So why does Moore allow us to, if not like Rorschach, feel empathy for him, and accept him in the narrative space of the hero? I suspect it's because of the gulf in terms of social class and status between the two.

On a more prosaic note, the shifting patterns on Rorschach's face look amazing. As does the whole film, brilliantly realising Dave Gibbon's visual aesthetic. It doesn't quite have the depth of the original- that would be unfair to expect-but there's still so much to say about authoritarianism, about misogyny, about nuclear weapons, about poverty, about how superheroes in real life would be Nietzchean Supermen, not a liberal wish fulfilment figure dreamed up by two Jewish creators in the year of Kristallnacht, sadly.

This is easily the best superhero film I've ever seen, but then, the source material is sublime.

For Your Eyes Only (1981)

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

"That's putting it mildly, 007."

This is very odd for a Bond film. There's nothing awful about it but it's oddly small scale and unambiguous, lacking in glamour, wit and oomph while remaining competent. Still, I suppose it's a natural and predictable reaction to the excesses of Moonraker.

The opening titles are perhaps the oddest thing- it's nice to see Tracy hasn't been forgotten as Bond leaves flowers at her grave, but Blofeld is bizarrely back in a very silly sequence that rather undermines the character.

(Oh, and Tracy's gravestone makes it explicit that she died in 1969, the year she died on screen. Stating this nakedly may be increasingly wise as the years go on!)

The ending is awkward, too. After two films that end with Bond and the Bond girl in question being seen shagging on screen and a gloriously terrible sex-related pun, this time we get a ridiculous skit with a parrot and Margaret Thatcher. There's a distinct lack of polish to this script. Even the set pieces are less dramatic than usual, although I liked the extended riff on the Winter Onympics.

Still, the Greek locations are good, as is Julian Glover as the bizarrely small scale baddie. It's off to see Charles Dance in such a tiny part, though. And it's the '89s now- Moonraker was just two years ago, but the cars and the fashions make that seem a long time ago. This is a decade that suits Bond aesthetically so much more.

One nice touch is the refusal yet to recast the part of M after Bernard Lee's demise shortly before filming his scripted scenes. But overall this is a film which makes no huge missteps but is strangely lacking in ambition. It may not be the worst Bond film but it's certainly the most forgettable so far.

The Night Manager: Episode 4

"To the victor... and to the blind man who can’t see the human bloody hand grenade in front of his bloody eyes,”

This is where things really heat up. Jonathan and Jed finally shag, and about time, too- by this point your practically shouting at them to just get a room. Jonathan finds himself at the very centre of Roper's web and closely implicated in his dealings of not quite fully trusted. He's the coming man, at Corky's expense- and Corky is dangerous, knowing as he does that Jonathan is sleeping with Jed. He's playing a dangerous game.

And it gets more dangerous as Jonathan refuses to abort the mission in spite of the very real risk of being found out, even pointing out to Roper that they're being watched by "cops". All this plus Angela discovers that Roper is supported by corrupt elements within M16.

But the emotional centrepiece of the episode, with an extraordinary performance by Olivia Colman, sees Angela recounting a school sports day in Iran where the children were horribly killed by chemical weapons- and that Roper, psychopath that he is, responded to this by adding said chemical weapons to his stock for sale. For him, this atrocity was just business.

Things are getting serious. Not only is Roper playing with fire by getting involved with Jed but corrupt elements in M16 are getting dangerously close to discovering that there's a mole in Roper's organisation. This is gripping telly and Hugh Laurie continues to be amazing.

Marvel's Agent Carter: Better Angels

"Have you quite finished fannying about?"

So Dr. Jason Wilkes isn't dead after all. Oops. He merely lacks physical substance, which is concerning. How can he eat? Does he need to? Does he get hungry or thirsty? Does he get horny? He and Peggy are certainly getting on well these days, not good news for the very married Jarvis, who holds a torch for Peggy with his employer's blessing.

Ah yes, the magnificent Mr. Howard Stark, who turns up like a hurricane and immediately takes charge. Wit, ladies' man and scientific genius, he oozes charisma and coolness, effortlessly dispelling all by himself the trope that scientist are nerds. He is, in effect, exactly like his son but in the 1940s. He's also pleasingly non-racist, bonding very quickly with Jason.

Stark's cool cleverness allows Peggy to get very sneaky and cook inside a snooty and dodgy posh club, but her and Sousa's corrupted boss isn't having it. They're being taken off the case and Peggy summoned back to New York. Whitney isn't happy either: her infection is spreading and she's just killer her well-connected lover, Calvin. Oops. Another excellent episode.

Oh, and this episode's geekgasm is Kid Colt! All we need now is the Rawhide Kid and things will be perfect.

Moonraker (1979)

"I think he's attempting re-entry, Sir!"

Meh. This is Bond by numbers. It's just a collection of barely connected set pieces,  some of them admittedly rather good, leading up to a silly and implausible finale. Hugo Drax must have the resources of a G7 nation to build six space shuttles and a space station. The fact that Michael Lonsdale makes a dull and charisma-free Drax doesn't help either.

At least Roger Moore is on good form. He seemed a little old in The Spy Who Loved Me but he seems a little rejuvenated in his sixth decade. It's also good to see a bigger role for M in Bernard Lee's final film, with a suggestion that, deep down, he always had a high regard for Bond. The return of Jaws is a mixed bag; he gets some superb action sequences but the scenes of him falling in love at first sight are just silly. And he finally gets to utter four whole words!!! Still, I love the way hired him after Chang dies, the suggestion being that there's actually an employment market for henchmen!

But this is all very obviously influenced by Star Wars and very silly, at a time when peak human space travel had already given way to the age of the space shuttle and the Moon had given way to the brilliant Voyager spacecraft. And worse: it's very worrying to see a Bond film be quite as formulaic as this.

Marvel's Agent Carter: A View in the Dark

"Good Lord! Is that a mirror?"

Jason getting unexpectedly killed at the end here is uncomfortably close to the trope of "the black guy dies first" but the fact the writers seem to have felt they had to highlights another uncomfortable truth: people in 1947 LA would have been incredibly racist, and depicting that would make the characters unlikeable. On the other hand, failing to depict casual racism- and we have a little here, although there are like bed that are not crossed- would be unrealistic. So it often happens that black characters are marginalised in order to avoid either of these two pitfalls. But that isn't ok either. It's a difficult one.

Anyway, the plot thickens with "Zero Matter" (we all know it's Darkforce, right?) and Whitney Frost, and the characters sparkle. I love Jarvis's attempt to look hard, the awesomeness of Mrs Jarvis and the fact that Daniel Soysa's girlfriend is Princess Mary from The Tudors.

Also, there are parallels with Agents of SHIELD in the hints that Darkforce can open portals- is this what happened to Simmons? I rather suspect so. But we end with the intriguing revelation that Whitney is infected by it. Are we looking at the origin story for Madame Masque? It's hood, entertaining telly either way.

The Night Manager: Episode 3

"Becoming a man is realising it’s all rotten. Realising how to celebrate that rottenness – that’s freedom."

This is where it really gets interesting. High Laurie's extraordinary and revelatory performance as psychopath Richard Roper continues to enthrall as Tom Hiddleston's Jonathan Pine cunningly inveigled his way into Roper's organisation at the expense of his rival Corky, whose fondness for the bottle and nubile (is that the right word?) young men is ruthlessly used against him.

Incidentally, Tom Hollander is also superb as Corky, by far the most quotable character and likeable in spite of both his cynical amorality and his right wing proclivities. But this episode is the best so far. Shockingly, it begins with the suicide of an apparently spoiled rich girl on her 16th birthday- raped by Roper?- but it builds into a fascinating game of cat and mouth in which Pine uncovers secrets of, yes, dastardly arms dealing, but also of secrets abounding. Jed and Roper are not getting on and, indeed, I suspect the two of them will grow closer in future episodes. Jed is a sympathetic character, not without a conscience and with a deepening realisation of what a monster her paramour has become: witness the hair that Jonathan finds in Roper's secret study.

But what's this? Dastardly dealings at MI6? Again, a brilliant piece of television.

The Black Knight (1954)

"I know I'm not a knight, but is it impossible to become one?"

I only sat through this film because it had Patrick Troughton, Peter Cushing and Andre Morell in it. I wish I hadn't. I can honestly say that this is the worst film I've blogged thus far. Even Teenagers from Outer Space was better than this.

The historical inaccuracies... where to begin? Obviously you accept a certain amount of artistic licence for the Arthurian genre, with the early sixth century setting typically being depicted as the High Middle Ages, but here we have Patrick Troughton as King Mark of Cornwall, leading an anti-Christian alliance of pagan Vikings and druids(!) with "Saracens" who apparently prefer associating with pagans than people of the book. Hmmm. One of these "Saracens" is Knight of the Round Table Sir Parmenides, who has his own castle in the English countryside. 

But that's not all. The centrepiece of the film sees our very silly alliance of baddies perform a comedy pagan ceremony of sacrifice at a matte painting of Stonehenge. After their defeat Arthur orders the monument to be trashed, a bit like Daesh in Palmyra. This is appropriate, I suppose, as Arthur spends the entire film behaving like a twat. Oh, and he's depicted as a King of "England"  the very country that any real life Arthur would have devoted his life to strangling at birth. Arthur didn't like immigrants much, a lot like most Britons today. This Arthur seems positively encouraging of diversity, notwithstanding his twattishness.

Even disregarding these frighteningly ignorant depictions of history- children actually watched this film!- the plot is annoying and relies on Arthur being stupid and thick-heatedly disbelieving for the plot to work.

Patrick Troughton gives us some top class moustache twirling but Alan Ladd phones it in as heroic blacksmith John. Then again, with a script as hopeless as this, why wouldn't he? A film not worth bothering with.

The Spy Who Loved Me (1977)

"Just keeping the British end up, Sir..."

Ah, 1977. The year of my birth. No Elvis, Beatles or Rolling Stones. The two sevens clash. And any number of punk allusions you'd care to make. It's also the absolute nadir of men's fashions: every single bloke in this film looks absolutely awful. It's difficult to understand why men bothered to wear suits at all in 1977 because they all, without exception, look shit. You can see how punk was so very necessary, for fashion as much as music.

Still, The Spy Who Loved Me is another triumph. I'm a little puzzled as to why The Man with the Golden Gun was so no pulse with both critics and public- I rather liked it- but I'll not argue with the consensus here. The taut plot, the awesome action sequences, the wittiest script yet, all of this makes for one of the finest Bond films yet, even if Roger Moore is perhaps, in only his third film, beginning to look just a little too old for the part.

Neither Moore nor Barbara Bach )Mrs. Ringi Starr!) will ever win any Oscars, but they somehow work perfectly together. Curd Jurgens, taking a break from playing 75% of all Nazi officers in the history of cinema, is the finest Bond villain yet. He has it all; the underwater lair, the hare-brained scheme to bike the world so humanity can start a new life under the sea(!); and the sharks beneath a trapdoor to eat treacherous underlings. 

Meanwhile Caroline Munro is there to look sexy, and Richard Kiel is a splendid if mute presence as Jaws, suspiciously soon after a film after the same name, also featuring a shark. Hmm. There's also a staggering number of British characters on display- George Baker, Edward de Souza, Vernon Dobtcheff, Nadim Sawalha and Cyril Chaps. The American submarine commander is played, inevitably, by Shane Rimmer. It could never have been otherwise.

The film is full of brilliant, stylish action sequences from the opening ski chase (love the parachute) to Bond's best car yet. By this point we know all the tropes and the film can have real fun with them.

The double entendres ("Well, tell him to pull out immediately") are superb. There's even a moment of wit for the incidental music: the familiar refrain from Lawrence of Arabia is heard as Bond and Anya traverse the desert.

The locations- Cairo, the pyramids and Karnak- are the best possible. Carly Simon's theme tune is the best yet and surely unsurpassable. Can this be the best Bond yet?

Notorious (1946)

"I am married to an American agent!"

I'm not entirely sure why German spies should still be up to no good by April 1946 when the film takes place, but this is a justly celebrated classic with magnificent dialogue, splendid performances from Ingrid Bergman and Cary Grant- whose chemistry is electric- genuine suspense, and some absolutely astounding directing, specially towards the end when the camera shows us just how disoriented Alicia is.

Behind all this, though, is a pleasingly progressive message: the superbly hard-drinking Alicia is brave and patriotic for infiltrating these dangerous Nazis as she does, making the sacrifice of even having regular sex with Sebastian, their leader, yet the men (all of them are men) who are "running" her simply dismiss her as a whore, with only Devlin to defend her honour. Such are the double standards applied so depressingly often to women even today, but Hitchcock is to be applauded for addressing this in 1946.

The plot is like clockwork, the final few minutes electric, and the conclusion deeply satisfying. This is a truly fine film.

Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992)

"See the amazing cinematograph- the wonder of modern civilisation."

Francis Ford Coppola gives us a lush, gorgeous Dracula. While the film doesn't entirely work- it's bloated and over-detailed- I'd actually blame the source material rather than this excellently made film which, in spite of what is often said and in spite of some obvious and welcome homages to James Whale's 1931 film, is if anything a little too faithful to the novel.

The casting is full of big names, although an oddity is that very few of the big names are using their own native accents in one way or another. Gary Oldman is a splendid Dracula, while Winona Ryder- who, it being the early '90s, had to appear in this film- is well cast as the sexually repressed and innocent Mina, whose repressed desires are soon teased out. Keanu Reeves as Jonathan Harker is, as ever, Ted, while Anthony Hopkins is a convincing and amusing Van Helsing.

The film makes explicit what is implicit in the novel: it's all a metaphor for sex and sexuality, as numerous scenes make clear with vampirism always portrayed in an obviously sexualised manner. Another nice touch is that all narration us epistolary in nature, paralleling the firm and structure of Stoker's novel. But Coppola also adds a prologue in which Vlad the Impaler turns against God and (in a process not entirely clear) towards vampirism after the Juliet-like suicide of his wife, who thought him dead. In lesser hands this would have been corny and embarrassing, but Coppola makes it work.

The direction is beautiful: I love the change in texture and camerawork during the cinematograph scenes. The only real criticism I can find is Richard E. grant phoning in his performance; the film is beautifully made and bloated only because Coppola is clearly such a huge Dracula fanboy, something I'm well prepared to indulge.

The Quatermass Xperiment (1955)

"It's me legs!"

This is the third version of The Quatermass Xperiment I've blogged, easily the shortest and, to be brutally honest, the third best. It's a very perfunctory, rushed version with none of Nigel Kneale's subtleties and Brian Donlevy's Quatermass (no characters comment on the fact that either he or Judith Carroon are American) is unsympathetic and entirely devoid of charm.

Still, in spite of the first half of the film actually being quite dull with the absence of the interesting bit (the alien is just possessing Carroon, not a gestalt entity, and Judith hasn't been sleeping with Gordon), the second half becomes more interesting as it suddenly turns into a horror film, and Richard Wordsworth clearly basing his performance on Boris Karloff: there's even a scene with a little girl that strongly evokes James Whale's Frankenstein.

Other interesting performances are a comic turn from a cockney Thora Hird and a young Gordon Jackson as a to producer, but the film never quite takes off. 

It's strange that this is considered the first of the Hammer horrors; having seen this, X the Unknown and The Abominable Snowmen I wouldn't really consider any of them as such, not really being "horrors" and not necessarily featuring the cast and crew we would expect. Still, from little acorns..

Time Bandits (1981)

"Four foot one! That is a long time, isn't it?"

This isn't really all that brilliant a film, in spite of some splendid individual bits of comedy, but it's a fascinating record of Terry Gilliam at this point in his career, with stylistic signs of his later directorial career yet with one foot very much still in Python- the film just feels very Monty Python, not surprisingly as Gilliam co-wrote it with Michael Palin, and both Palin and John Cleese get some splendid cameos: I love Cleese's version of Robin Hood as Prince Charles. And, as with the Python films, the owner of Handmade Films, one George Harrison, is involved, in this case providing a rather good song.

Also brilliant are Ian Holm's height- obsessed Napoleon and Sean Connery's noble and charismatic Agamemnon, complete with the Caledonian tones which were, I'm sure, de rigeur in ancient Mycenae. David Warner is, as ever, a magnificent baddie and the great Ralph Richardson is, literally, God, although he phoned in his performance somewhat.

The whole concept of a portal in young Kevin's bedroom, a portal into other realities that does not abide by the laws of science, is so very reminiscent of British children's fiction, from Alice to Narnia. The dwarves, put in charge of shrubbery by the Supreme Being, remind me a bit of Slartibartfast from the then-recent Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy, while also providing a good employment agency for dwarf actors.

It's not as good as I remembered; individual scenes are good but as a whole it drags a bit. Still, it's a fascinating film to look back on.

The Man with the Golden Gun (1974)

"I admit it's a little kinky..."

It says a lot for the recent high standards of Bond films that, while The Man with the Golden Gun is a splendidly enjoyable film in which both Roger Moore and Christopher Lee are excellent, it is in comparison not as good as many of its predecessors, merely very good rather than superb. Still, the run of good Bond films continues.

Lulu's stab at theme tune is a perfectly good one even if it's no one's favourite and she's so Shirley Bassey. And those lyrics... "Who will he bang?" Oo er!

Q is back, this time paired with a ballistics expert played by the superb James Cossins, who I will always remember fondly from a certain episode of Some Mothers do 'Ave 'Em. But it's an unusual Bond film, the villain being an assassin whose grand scheme to monopolise solar power seems almost an afterthought. But seeing solar power as a panacea? And one has to raise an eyebrow, given the current price of oil, that supplies of oil and gas were thought to be exhausted back in 1974, even if the central point is true.

The film is a splendid series of entertaining set pieces, this time in various parts of the Far East. I was a little perturbed to find Sumo wrestlers in Thailand, though: it's almost as though all eastern Asian countries and cultures are considered interchangeable. Our agent in Hong Kong even has convenient relatives in Thailand. Still, schoolgirls kicking ass with martial arts are cool.

I'm not sure about including that annoying sheriff from the last film as comic relief, but the film is another triumph. We get the first of the formulaic endings, too, with M phoning Bond while he's otherwise occupied with Goodnight ("She's just cumming, Sir"). The Roger Moore era is in full swing already.

Live and Let Die (1973)

"There's no sense in going out half-cocked..."

Well then. It seems there's a possible new candidate for best Bond film so far. Live and Let Die is brilliant, crammed with set piece after set piece, Roger Moore is charismatic and compelling from the word go- he is Bond, straight away- and Yaphet Kotto as Dr Kananga may be the best Bond villain yet. All this and we also get Jane Seymour as a decidedly quirky Bond girl. Where's Q, though?

I'll leave others to decide whether or not the depiction of black Americans and the Carribbean is racist or not (sooo many afros!), but Baron Samedi and the snake are cool, and I love the killings with the coffin that make a great pre-titles sequence. Unlike On Her Majesty's Secret Service, this time we don't see the new James Bond until after the opening titles, dragging out the suspense.

So much cool stuff- alligators, Tee Hee's hand, tarot cards,  boat chase across the Louisiana bayou and a comedy sheriff: this is a very different but very impressive Bond film.

Again, though, why are so many MI6  agents operating in America when, you know, the CIA exists?

Marvel's Agent Carter: The Lady in the Lake

"It's the flamingo, isn't it?"

"It is indeed the flamingo."

This first episode just sparkled; the characterisation, wit and well-placed humour are a delight. This is the best scripted episode so far by miles and, if that's not enough, the new Los Angeles setting makes things seem fresh and new. It's the Golden Age of Hollywood!

The story of the week is actually pretty damn great- a murder disguised to look like the work of a serial killer to protect the conspiracy that's really going on, a police detective with mysterious powers who dies before squealing, and behind it all is one Whitney Frost- although at this point she is far from disfigured, unless her mask is very good indeed. I wonder if Count Nefaria and the Maggia exist in the Marvel Cinematic Universe?

Jarvis is fantastic as ever: I love his comments on LA and, especially, the revelation that the thus far mysterious Mrs Jarvis (first name?) is both nothing like we expect and clicks immediately with Peggy.

Other interesting little titbits for the rest of the season are the reason for Sousa's avoiding Peggy- he has a girlfriend- and the introduction of likeable physicist Jason Wilkes who, being black, is likely to experience some very 1940s racist attitudes. It'll be interesting to see how this is handled. And then there's this strange otherworldly material he seems to have...

Best of all, though? Whitney Frost has starred in a film called Tales of Suspense, the very comic book in which she first appeared. 

The Night Manager: Episode 2

"Just remember one thing, honey; you're nothing but a dirty whore."

So this is where it gets good.

Stuff is finally happening and Jonathan gets to be undercover, badass and, at last, likeable. Hugh Laurie is simply amazing as Richard Roper; we've sadly missed out on all the great villains he could have been playing all these years. We also get action, excitement, a bizarre serious role as MI6 top brass for Neil Morrissey of all people, and David Harewood with a decent American accent. This has suddenly become bloody good telly.

We see just how much Jonathan mourns his lost love- prepared not to risk just his own life but to accept frequent violence and the need to abandon his old identity forever. He is magnificent, and I suppose the contrast with the old, obsequious Jonathan is the point.

Olivia Colman is just as electrifying as the tenacious Angela, just likeable enough while having a very hard edge.

That cliffhanger looks ominous, and this serial looks as though it's going to be fun. What a difference a week makes.

Earth vs. the Flying Saucers (1956)

"When an armed and threatening power lands uninvited in our capital, we don't meet him with tea and cookies!"

This film is a magnificent spectacle of flying saucers courtesy of the great Ray Harryhausen, with loads of great action sequences and even a reasonable plot and a stab at characterisation. It's one of the better films of its type and definitely not Mystery Theatre 3000 territory. Even the acting is largely adequate.

It's still very '50s, of course. The sexual politics raise an eyebrow. And it's interesting to watch the early part of the film, predicting satellites, knowing that next year the Soviets will launch Sputnik and the Space Age will begin.

And then you look at the aliens and their silly walk and think "Oh dear".

Still, this is a visually impressive flying saucer flick that looks good even today. It's probably as good as a '50s sci-fi B movie is going to get.

The Doctor Who Pubcast

Here's the latest Pubcast, courtesy of Nick and myself..,

http://dwpubcast.podomatic.com/entry/2016-03-01T10_48_46-08_00

Hellboy (2004)

"Plus, you're nine. You're not old enough to be giving me advice!"

I cannot applaud highly enough the excellent decision to give a big Hollywood comic book blockbuster like Hellboy to art film maestro Guillermo Del Toro to direct; in his hands the film looks gorgeous, atmospheric, stylised, perfect. So much so, in fact, that it threatens to elevate a somewhat so-so script into excellence.

The basic concept isn't very original beyond the character of Hellboy himself: occult Nazis are all very Indiana Jones while the monsters look suspiciously Lovecraftian. Nor is the concept of a secret government agency gratifyingly original and, indeed, Professor Broom and his super powered team of mutants look awfully like the X-Men. But the story, and characters, are nevertheless worth following.

You don't need you to tell me how magnificent John Hurt is, but Ron Peelman is also magnificent, and the cast as a whole has nary a weak link. And the ending is particularly effective, as Myers fulfils his destiny as the virtuous Gakahad-type hero while Hellboy proves that not only can he use his free will to be a hero in spite of being a demon, but also gets the girl.

This film hasn't got an original bone in its body. But dammit, it's fun.

Men in Black (1997)

"No, Elvis is not dead. He just went back home."

Here's a heretical opinion for you: Men in Black is a bit pants.

Yep. You read that right. It's pants. The central idea is good but the story is meh, the script isn't funny and the only reason it sort of works as a film is because Woll Smith can always lift a poor script into acceptability by doing his usual schtick. And I must admit that, while he always plays the same character film after film, he plays that character well, with charm and charisma.

Oh, and it's always good to see Rip Torn. But these sorts of things do not a good film make. I mean, yes, the underground base and hordes of men and women in black are incredibly cool, but the humour is all very basic slapstick and there are far too many annoyingly cute CGI aliens for me. Sorry. This is just a forgettable Hollywood comedy that pretty much got away with it purely through Will Smith's charm.

Memento (2000)

"I have to believe in a world outside my own mind."

This film still blew me away sixteen years later. The concept- the story of an amnesiac told in reverse- is an ingenious use of both form and content and a story that can only be told through the medium of cinema. The twist is staggering. Christopher Nolan well and truly announced his arrival with this superb piece of cinema.

Credit also goes to Guy Pearce, given the heavy burden of carrying the entire film, all of which is told from his perspective. The film works because of the ingenious script, however and, while I'm not going to simply recite the plot.. SPOILERS!

The film is gripping, a very clever puzzle that it's fun to see unfolding, but it's also tragic. Leonard's "system", as we see, simply doesn't work, and he is constantly being cruelly manipulated by the likes of Natalie (particularly nasty) and Eddie. But, worst of all, as we see the twist, we learn that he's manipulating himself to give himself a continuing mission. He is simultaneously the villain and one of his own victims.

He's a truly tragic figure, though, a Sisyphus sentenced to never-ending labours by himself. This is a mind-blowing film on many levels and one of the finest I have ever seen.

Prisoners of the Lost Universe (1983)

"Please take your hand off my butt!"

Now this is what I call a proper B movie.

My good friend and host Nick pointed out, while we were watching this film, that B movies today- Sharknado and the like- are done with tongue in cheek, intended to be silly and camp. That isn't the case with Prisoners of the Lost Universe: this was honestly intended as a good film and was made by the same director as Hawk the Slayer, a film that people have actually heard of.

So what makes this a B movie? Is it the generally dodgy acting? Is it the cheap and eyebrow-raising costumes? Possibly. But more than anything it's the sound effects. Good sound effects shouldn't be noticed; this is s film where the sound effects alone made me laugh out loud on several occasions, with various silly "boings" and so forth. Then there's the fact that this other dimension looks suspiciously like Southern California, and Richard Hatch's worrying habit of copping a feel with every woman he interacts with for more than five seconds. Still, John Sacon chews the scenery splendidly as out bearded baddie. 

It's cheap, it's cheerful, it's an incredible coincidence that everyone in this other dimension seems to speak English, it's unmistakeably a B movie. They just don't make this kind of film any more.

The Night Manager: Episode 1

"The most evil man in the world..."

I suppose I should reserve judgement on this. Yes, it's an episode of set-up, but it hasn't really impressed itself on me yet. These are early days, yes, but Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, another Le Carre adaptation from another age, was electrifying from the first scene in a way this is not.

Still, Tom Hiddleston and an unexpectedly Northern-sounding Olivia Colman are great, and Hugh Laurie is a delicious baddie. But there isn't much else to say yet other than reciting the plot. And so far it's just a matter of Jonathan meeting Angela, both of them being very displeased with the mysterious Richard Roper, oozing Bullingdon Club confidence as he deals in weapons and murders those who get in his way. 

Not much to go on yet, then, but I'll keep watching...

Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World (2003)

"The lesser of two weevils!"

It's been far too long since I read Patrick O'Brian's superlative tales of Captain Jack Aubrey and his particular friend Dr. Stephen Maturin, and watching this unexpectedly excellent film adaptation has reminded me that I really need to start reading all twenty(!) novels all over again. It's a magnificent series of books, with both intense psychological depth for the extraordinarily well-rounded characters and a dizzyingly perfect evocation of time and place. A crude analogy would be Hornblower as written by Jane Austen, but the novels are much more than that. The language alone I can just get drunk on. Patrick O'Brian was a man of the Regency out of his time.

I've seen the film before, but it's only now, having read all of the novels rather than just the first few, that I can truly appreciate its excellent. It's odd to base the film around The Far Side of the World, one of the later novels, but that's a suitably representative plot of Jack captaining the Surprise in pursuit of a French privateer. Naturally this isn't really an adaptation of a specific novel; a franchise of twenty films was clearly not going to happen so they did the sensible thing and made a greatest hits album. Hence we see Maturin doing his famous bit of surgery with the coin, Maturin directing his own operation, Jack's anecdote about Nelson and the above joke from Jack. I'm surprised we don't get Stephen's "cur-tailed" joke which Jack brings up every bloody novel but you can't have everything! But the approach works; the plot, cobbled together from some of the best set pieces from the novels, makes for a gripping film.

I'm not generally a huge fan of Russell Crowe but he was seemingly born to play Jack, and David Threlfall deserves particular praise as the perfect Preserved Killick. Paul Bettany, though, seems to lack charisma somewhat, although I can see little actually wrong with his performance. But this is nevertheless a superb adaptation which has certainly succeeded in directing me back to the novels.

First Men in the Moon (1964)

"Not married?!! Kindly leave the room!"

It rather pleases my geek sensibilities to see that Ray Harryhausen worked on a film co-written by Nigel Kneale. Harryhausen isn't really called upon to do much in comparison with some of his other work, but this is still a damned fine adaptation of H.G. Wells' little parable on the evils of capitalism.

I note, of course, that the baddie is a Mr. Bedford- sounds a well dodgy type, although I have no idea why "Julius" was changed to "Arnold" for the film. Rather spoils the "Caesar in Gaul" subtext.

It's 1964. The late St John F. Kennedy of blessed memory has alteady vowed to put a man on the moon by the end of the decade, and both superpowers are quite visibly and excitingly progressing towards that age. Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, when the future was not yet passé. They would have been appalled to discover that, as of 2016, no one has set foot on the moon for a staggering 44 years. It was a very different age, but also a very different age from 1901 when the novel was published. So it's good to see the story bookended by modern day sections in which astronauts discover evidence of Cavor's exploits. It's rather utopian to propose a multinational UN mission, though. And rather fanciful to suggest that the Yank and the Russian would be joined by a Brit...!

Still, it frames the film nicely. It's surprisingly late on until our (anti-)heroes reach the Moon, but the design and effect is fantastic much they do. I'm reminded visually of The Daleks, a Doctor Who story of the same year: must have been something in the zeitgeist.

It's an excellent version of a much under-utilised novel, in spite of it's largely unknown cast. That ending, though? Shameless rip-off from The War of the Worlds. H.G. Wells should sue himself.

Predator 2 (1990)

"Ok, pussy face. This is your move..."

Meh. After the glory that was Predator this is such a let-down. It's not a bad film, per se: it's adequately shot and acted. But after the first film's brilliantly maintained atmosphere and superb ensemble cast it's missing that spark.

It isn't Danny Glover's fault; he plays his bland cipher of a character well. But the whole thing seems so uninspired. The opening titles seem dated in a way the previous film's didn't, and the overuse of the creature's POV shots dates the film terribly. And then there the uninspired setting- a turf war in LA in the dim and distant future (1997). Yawn. A future where crime has spun out of control is both a cliche and vaguely right-wing as a concept. It does at least give us the character of King Willie, who is glorious: Calvin Lockhart's magnificent chewing of the scenery is the best thing about the film by far.

Still- Jamaicans doing voodoo? Er, that's Hairians, chaps. Some would say that mixing up your Caribbean countries is a wee bit racist.

Anyway, the Predator looks good. This film can't take any credit for the design, but at least we eventually see more of it, and the film admittedly does a good job of keeping it semi-hidden for the first two thirds of the film. But you can see why they tested the franchise for a while after this. Eminently skippable.

Predator (1987)

"If it bleeds, we can kill it!"

The fact that this film is so good didn't surprise me; I knew that, ever since I hired out the video in the late '80s. I haven't seen it for, well, twenty years, though. And this time I was flabbergasted by Arnold Schwarzenegger's performance. As a departure from the norm he's actually called upon to act rather than just be Arnie. And he pulls it off superbly, anchoring the film successfully through his acting, not just through his physical presence. It's a shame he hasn't been called upon to do that more often.

The film is excellent all-round, though. The suspense; the brilliant design of the creature, its face being revealed towards the end to great effect; a claustrophobic rainforest setting; and most of all a credible and nuanced set of three-dimensional characters to get picked off one by one.

The film is fairly long, but justifies its running time through characterisation, suspense and a superb final duel between Dutch and the creature. The fact that we have only vague glimpses of the creature in the first part of the film makes the reveal so much more effective. What a shame the film doesn't have too happy an ending: after that mushroom cloud Dutch will end up with cancer, methinks.

Sword of Sherwood Forest (1960)

"I absolutely forbid it!"

Oh dear, this just isn't any good, is it? The script is for kids in the worst possible way, casually tossed out in the belief that, if it's for kids, it doesn't need to be any good. Richard Greene is crap, hammy and over the top, possibly suitable for live telly in the '50s, but not for the big screen. And Peter Cushing, while he's hardly phoning it in, is wasted on a part that asks very little of him.

Nigel Green's casting as Little John is almost as ridiculous as, well... Nigel Green's casting as Hercules in Jason and the Argonauts. It says a lot that a young Oliver Reed is the best thing in the film, and he's bloody dubbed. Still, at least we get a speaking cameo from a pre-Q Desmond Llewelyn.

There's not a lot else to say though: perhaps Hammer should have stuck to horror.

The Evil Dead (1981)

"The trees! They're alive!"

This film is magnificently gory, far gorier than I expected for 1981, even given the film's reputation. It isn't just the gore, buttressed at the end by some excellent stop motion animation, that makes this a superb example of its genre, though: it's both a splendid example of using supernatural horror in what is, structurally speaking, a slasher film, and exceedingly well directed to bring out the suspense.

All the tropes are out in force: five teenagers visit a mysterious cabin in the woods which is in the middle of nowhere, in the American South, and accessed by a dangerous bridge. One by one they are picked off and killed. 

But Sam Raimi has fun with this, using suspense to tease us for the first part of the film about whether characters are going to die or not. Then he has real fun with loads of blood and demons straight out of The Exorcist.

The film is fun, yes, but for once it's genuinely creepy. This is sooo far above the likes of Friday the 13th and one of the best of its kind.

Deadpool (2016)

"I'm gonna do to your face what Limp Bizkit did to music in the late '90s..."

I can honestly say that no film has ever given me so much difficulty in choosing the quote. Also in the frame were the line about David Beckham and the one about the fourth wall, but there had to be a winner. That alone tells you, and let's make no bones about it, this is going to be a pretty damn glowing review.

This is the first Marvel film under the auspices of Fox that I've blogged although, as I think you'd guess, hardly the first I've seen. I'm aware of the controversy about them and, yes, I side with Marvel over that, particularly Fantastic Four-gate. But I see no reason to boycott the films because of that, as some do. They can be good, they can be bad or, as in this case, they can be awesome, but they were all made by creative people who deserve to be thought of as more than pawns in the game of movie studio politics.

Anyway. The film. It's awesome. You knew that, because I just said it anyway. It's a gloriously violent film with devastatingly witty dialogue and a truly charismatic central performance from Ryan Reynolds, whose comic timing is perfect. The metatextual fun (you know I love that sort of thing) is everywhere, not only in the plot and dialogue but in the opening titles, the freeze frames, every stylistic quirk. Tim Miller's direction is no less witty than the script, and that's saying something.

Ed Skrein makes a good and bizarrely Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels-type baddie, and it's fantastic to see a major Hollywood part for the excellent Morena Baccarin a decade after Firefky.

This stands a very good chance of being declared my best film of 2016 when I get to the end of the year. Already. A truly awesome film.

Daredevil: Speak of the Devil

"You don't need sight to appreciate art, but you do need honesty."

"Sight helps..."

This episode, yet again, is another penetrating character piece on Matt, this time through his Catholicism, and a brilliant exploration of the themes of the show. It also had a stonking cliffhanger. Daredevil is brilliant.

The philosophical chat about the Devil between Matt and his priest is compelling, even for those of us who don't believe in such a being. The chilling take from Rwanda ensures that. But for the purposes of the episode the Devil I'd Fisk, and the central theme is the morality, or not, of Matt killing him. It's the classic dilemma: to kill someone who is evil, or to allow evil to happen by not doing so.

And yet... Fisk is not straightforwardly "evil". He loves Vanessa, and she loves him. He means it when he says he takes no pleasure from ordering the death of poor Elena. And he has, in his own mind at least, ultimately idealistic motives for all the things he does. A bad man, yes. An abstract theological evil, no.

But Elena's death brings home, to Foggy at least, what looks like the futility of trying to do good when evil owns everything, including the police, and good has no agency. He's drunk, and not in a good frame of mind, when he shockingly unmasks Matt at the end of the episode in a shocking and original move.

Oh, and there's a big and epic fight between Matt and Nobu. Nobu dies but Matt barely survives- and, cruelly, Fisk gains from Nobu's elimination anyway. We end at a low point for Matt. Time for Act Four.

The Man Who Could Cheat Death (1959)

"I always have a small one before I operate..."

This early Hammer is a bit odd: the opening is genuinely atmospheric, the style of the titles is very Hammer and it feels like an early Hammer. But it's not really a horror film in that there little suspense- and the lack of suspense makes for a short film that feels so much longer. It really drags.

Christopher Lee is good as Pierre, the dignified hero (yes, he plays a hero!), while Anton Diffring phones it in as evil surgeon Georges, who is 104 but looks about 35, having achieved immortality by means of murdering a woman every ten years, and has an inexplicably German accent. Hazel Court impresses as Janine, the female love interest who... well, that basically sums up the character.

The basic plot, from a play by Barre Lyndon, should in theory make a good film in the same way Jekyll and Hyde has several times and yes, there's atmosphere, but the problem is there's never any suspense- and Diffring just doesn't have the charisma to carry the film. The result is a distinct lack of excitement, a rarity with early Hammer when the quality was generally high.

The film's riff on immortality achieved by the murder of others is hardly original although, with its murders of women including a prostitute in the Paris of 1890, and given Robert Holmes' fondness for Hammer, it's a probable influence on the Doctor Who story The Talons of Weng-Chiang. 

X the Unknown (1956)

"It's on it's way for the biggest meal of its life."

Yes, Mr. Kneale. We realise you refused permission to use the character of Professor Quatermass in this film. What's that, Mr. Kneale? Oh, no. Heaven forbid. The character of Dr Adam Royston is in no way a thinly veiled carbon copy of the good Professor. And the odd similarity of the format to your own work is just coincidence. Small world, isn't it, Mr. Kneale?

Suspicious coincidences aside, this is a good and entertaining film, if a rather shirt one. Not bad for the first ever Hammet horror, or not, depending how you define these things; to me this is very much science fiction.

Oh, it's a little odd that none of the characters seem to notice that Royston is American, and the young Frazer Hines' Scottish accent is a bit rubbish at this stage although, to be fair, give it ten years and he'll get a lot of practice. Also, it's the '50s, so everything is radiation this and radiation that. 

This is a fairly inconsequential diversion, but, if you can stand the sight of Leo "Rumpole of the Bailey" McKern bring indecently young, it's a fun and entertaining film.

Diamonds Are Forever (1971)

"I was just walking my rat and I seem to have lost my way..."

This film really has no right to be as brilliant as it is. On paper it's worryingly retro even at the time, with not only the bringing back of Sean Connery, which seems desperate, but even getting Shirley Bassey to do the theme tune. And there's that boggling thought of why on earth a British agent is working in the USA, where both the CIA and FBI exist. Plus, it's suddenly the '70s, and the fashions are suddenly rubbish. And yes, against the odds, for the third film in a row we have a work of absolute brilliance?

How do they manage it? Well, the script is superb, a never-ending series of brilliant set pieces. Connery is brilliant, too. Oh, at 41 he suddenly looks much older than he should, certainly too old for the part, and you can't believe it's only been four years since You Only Live Twice. But he's still Connery.

Then we have the splendid Messrs Wint and Kidd, however godawful the cut of their suits. We have the splendid Jill St John. We have Charles Gray, fresh from a bit part in You Only Live Twice, as a fine Blofeld, albeit with a puzzlingly full head of hair.

Oh, and the great Sid Haig is in it somewhere, although I'm buggered if I know where. Joseph Furst is in it, fellow '60s Doctor Who fans. We get Vegas, lots of the Nevada desert, Bond in a moon buggy, an epic car chase with American cop cars (something the Bond films had to do!) and more of the now traditional space stuff by Blofeld. It's also nice to see the character of Q being used as outright comic relief, cheating at Vegas with gadgets. It suits the character perfectly and Desmond Llewelyn is brilliant.

Surely Blofeld is really dead? And surely this run of quality can't last? But for this film, at least, the series is in rude health.

Perfume: The Story of a Murderer (2006)

"Because it's a legend, you numbskull!"

I must have read Patrick Suskind's novel back in the late '90s, so my memories are hazy. I remember liking it, but little else. Huge Nirvana fan that I am, though, I'm well aware that "Scentless Apprentice" on In Utero is entirely about the novel, the only novel that Kurt Cobain ever wrote a song about.

But what of the film? Well, they did the best they could- it's well-shot, well-acted, well-made- but there's no getting around the fact that the book is unfilmable. The visuals are sumptuous, yes, especially of Provence, but it is the olfactory, not the visual, that is the point. A film cannot convey smell in the way that words on a page can. This is a valiant attempt at the impossible.

Still, as I said, it's a well-made film. Ben Whishaw is very good, John Hurt's narration is excellent, Dustin Hoffman gets a fun little part, and the harshness of eighteenth century France is conveyed well. But the very oddness and creepiness of Jean-Baptiste Grenooulle as a character leads to a lack of charisma at the centre of the film, something that matters less to the novel. However gorgeous this film looks it is, ultimately, a failure.

Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D: A Wanted (Inhu)Man

"Trust is a strong word for a psychopath..."

It's still early days, and what we're seeing is still just set-up for the main arcs of the season, but it all continues to be entertaining and watchable.

Simmons is back, but she has a long recovery ahead of her, naturally. Fitz is doing his best, but it takes time to recover from the trauma of being marooned on another world. We learn little, yet, of what happened to her, but we discover at the end that she wants to go back for something. Why...?

Hunter and May (she's fully on board) continue on their slow plan to get Ward, for the moment acting as comic relief. It's good to get some development of these two together: they have good comic chemistry. I loved the scene of the two Brits being "incomprehensible" with subtitles- but were they really that hard to understand?

Hunter, touchingly, is staying in touch with Bobbi, and it's also good to see Bobbi slowly recovering. But the episode is ultimately about Lincoln being hunted by Rosalind's lot, his admittedly rather tiresome angst about his Inhumanity, ethical disagreements between Phil and Sk- er, Daisy, and Phil's decision at the end to do a deal with the devil. Intriguing..

On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969)

"This never happened to the other fella!"

Well, a couple of days ago I praised You Only Live Twice to the skies and queried whether it would ever be topped. Has it, with the very next film? Well, it's impossible to say. This is an excellent film, but it's so completely unlike its predecessors that I simply wouldn't be comparing like with like.

First things first, though: George Lazenby. Well, I quite liked him. Oh, his acting is awful- his line deliveries are dull and clearly not thought through. And yet.. he hasn't got charisma exactly, but he has presence and is likeable, albeit a softer presence than Sean Connery, even when slapping Tracy across the face...! He was blatantly just cast for his looks, he can't act, but against all the odds he manages to carry the film. Never mind the very odd fact that all his lines when pretending to be Sir Hilary Bray are dubbed by George Baker...!

Speaking of George Baker, this film is extremely well-endowed (er...) with British character actors, boasting James Bree, Bernard Horsfall, a very young Joanna Lumley and Catherine Schell. But it's Diana Rigg, fresh from Mrs. Peel, who dazzled as Tracy, and Telly Savalas is similarly superb as Blofeld.

But this is a very strange Bond film. It may reassure us at the start with the reassuring faces of M, Q and Moneypenny before we see the new Bond, but it's not just Lazenby who's odd here: it may be magnificent, but this is a bloody weird Bond film. There are action sequences, yes, and bloody good ones, but they're surprisingly infrequent. Instead we get romance- we even have an extensive montage where Bond and Tracy fall in love. The middle of the film is an extensive farce sequence with a kilted Bond ("It's true!!!") and a sequence of nubile young ladies. And Bond gets married!!! The ending of the film is truly tragic, with Bond in a state of denial that his beloved is dead from the bullet of Blofeld's pet fraulein.

The sexual politics here raise a bit of an eyebrow ("What she needs is a man to dominate her" says Tracy's doting father), which is typical Bond. Otherwise, though.. c'est magnifique. Mais ce n'est pas James Bond. This is one of the finest films in the series, but one that stands aloof.

It Came from Beneath the Sea (1955)

"The mind of man had thought of everything- except that which was beyond his comprehension!"

Yesterday's long film review is today followed by a short one. This is a '50s monster B movie, no more and no less. It's fun, but there's not a huge amount to say about it. Still, let's try, shall we?

The most famous name associated with the film is Ray Harryhausen, but he's young here, and won't have an executive producer credit for many years yet. His stop motion giant octopus is brilliant, yes, but at this early stage of his Hollywood career it barely scratches the surface of what he's capable of.

It's interesting that Professor Lesley Joyce, portrayed as an eminent and respected scientist should happen, in a 1955 film, to be a woman. She's young, she's glamorous, and she's the Jeff Goldblum character. There's some tension in the film's attitude towTds her gender- she is given absolute professional respect, yet in terms of her romance with Pete the sexual politics are rather primitive. Still, you get the sense that the film's heart is in the right place.

The plot beats are exactly where you'd expect them in this sort of film but it's all competently done; this is far more fun than The War of the Worlds. There's a very '50s obsession with radiation but that's all part of the fun, and the atomic age even has its own atomic submarine. This is a short and entertaining diversion of you just want to switch off your brain and enjoy.

You Only Live Twice (1967)

"Well, at least he died on the job..."

Well, it's quite the contrast. Thunderball was a pile of pants, an incoherently directed film with little in the way of charm or entertainment, whereas You Only Live Twice is superb, and easily the best Bond film so far. What went right? Well, the straightforward direction by Lewis Gilbert helps; Thunderball may be much artier (It has wipes, for Christ's sake! In a James Bond film), but it fails to make the narrative clear. Here we have no such problems. What we do have is a well constructed and paced film courtesy of a script by the great Roald Dahl. Yes, that Roald Dahl.

Even the opening sequence is innovative-the image of a NASA space capsule being eaten by another spacecraft is delicious, as is Bond's apparent death before the titles. And the image of a spacewalking astronaut drifting helplessly through space to what he knows will be his death has all the existential horror of the late David Bowie's "Space Oddity" a couple of years later.  All this before we even get to the theme song from Nancy Sinatra, who gives the great Shirley Bassey a run for her money.

We then move straight to the Americans blaming the Soviets for the swallowing of the spacecraft, with both of them portrayed as squabbling juvenile warmongers, leaving the British (naturally) as the voice of reason. This is a little uncomfortable to watch from a distance of fifty years, however. In the wake of Dean Acheson's famous comment Britain is being portrayed here as a "Greece to America's Rome", which smacks very much as a consolation prize for a wannabe superpower. Even this film, which portrays the clever British as in control and saving the world, can't hide the fact that the Americans and Russians of 1967 are sending people into space and we are not.

The fact that M and Moneypenny are in a submarine is brilliant, as is the recognition of Bond's naval rank. The two superpowers are at loggerheads and world war beckons if all this is not sorted out before the next spacecraft is launched. Fortunately, there's a lead pointing to Japan. Also fortunately, Bond took a First in Oriental Languages at Cambridge.

It's interesting that the film's inevitable misogyny (as ever, women are seen through the eyes of a fifteen year old boy) is somewhat obscured by the presentation of all this in the context of what Japanese culture is supposed to be like. There's also the question of ethnic stereotyping, and while this can't be dodged the film gives a broadly positive image of Japan, perhaps remarkably so less than a generation after the War. We get Sumo wrestling, geishas and, of course, ninjas. The tropes are all here to play.

Is impossible at this point not to mention the cute and willing Aki ("I think I will very much enjoy serving under you") who is killed, while Bond's initially more modest "wife" is not. Hmm. Still, this Japan is cool, and I love Tanaka.

The bit with "Little Nellie" looks suspiciously as if it was just crowbarred into the film to give Desmond Llewelyn something to do, but it isn't long before the Russians launch a rocket of their own (Norse pagans will be either pleased or outraged that the Russian for "three" is "Odin"), which is duly swallowed again. Cue more recriminations and a reminder of the stakes, although it certainly makes me wonder how credible it is that a criminal organisation like SMERSH could have the resources to send a rocket into space capable of doing this. Best to banish such thoughts.

This film is possibly the most influential Bond film in popular culture and certainly for Austin Powers: the volcano base is brilliant, and Donald Pleasance's splendidly hammy performance as the now-revealed Ernst Stavro Blofeld is blatantly the inspiration for Dr. Evil. And the piranhas, and the collapsible ramp above them, are perfect.

This is an incredible film and easily the best so far. I'm genuinely unsure if anything will top it.

Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D: Purpose in the Machine

"To the plane! Am I allowed to say that?"

I love this episode in so many ways. Not only do we get a delightfully unexpected return from Randolph, everybody's favourite Asgardian, but we get Simmons unexpectedly back and, most brilliantly, Fitz- a geek if ever there was one- gets to be the hero and get the girl. I love it.

We begin, though, at a castle in Gloucestershire in 1839, establishing not only what is to come in the episode but that the obelisk is an artifact of great age and power. Much of the rest of the episode consists of Fitz proving that it's an interstellar portal and the team deciding, as one, that now they have proof they will save their friend. And they do, and it's triumphant and wonderful.

But we also establish that Hunter has been tasked with killing Ward, and is setting about the job with enthusiasm. Less enthusiastic is May, still sulking, who refuses Hunter's request to help him. Ward himself, meanwhile, is busy taking over HYDRA with the help of young Werner Von Strucker, who definitely has daddy issues. Brett Dalton is a bloody excellent baddie.

Another superb and brilliant episode, then. I suspect this season's going to be good. But what was that alien world? I'm still wondering if it was Hala.

Grimm: Eve of Destruction

"Is this another Back From The Dead thing?"-

Phew. This episode is a big one and probably a bit of a turning point. Juliette is alive! She's still a Hexenbeist! She's weird and has an odd hairstyle! She's strangely emotionless! HW did weird stuff to her! Etc! Etc! And an awful lot of other stuff happens too.

The mystery grows throughout the episode. Nick finds out from Trubel that Juliette didn't die but was instead taken away to be turned into "a weapon" and later in the episode, at a pre-arranged meeting with Nick in a restaurant, we get to see her in action. She's an enigma, but an intriguing one. Such a radical change for such a major character reminds me very much of Fred in Season Five of Angel. 

The treacherous Xavier speaks more of the conspiracy: a revolution that all Wesen must join, a conspiracy that ultimately ends in his murder while in custody by a Wesen unafraid to Woge in public- is this the point of "Occultam Libera"? For Wesen to step out of the shadows? Is this why Billie Trump's upper middle class parents seem so strangely proud of her?

Things then go up a notch as these conspirators- called Black Claw, we're told- shockingly assassinate the entire Wesen Council, with one possible survivor, in The Hague. The entire status quo has shockingly changed.

On a more personal note, Nick and Adalind kiss, which is awkward. Their relationship is fun to watch. And suddenly the season as a whole, after a poor start, has become enjoyable too.

Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D: Laws of Nature

"You've been spying on me?"

"I looked at your Facebook page."

So, a new season, a new status quo, and we begin in media res. Coulson has lost not only his left hand but also his right hand in the person of May. Skye is vigorously looking for new Inhumans with a real sense of purpose, and calling herself Daisy. That'll take some getting used to. Bobbi and Hunter are slowly reconciling as a couple. And, of course, Jemma Simmond is still missing after being swallowed by the Kree obelisk, which is driving Fitz to extremes and Iain de Caestecker to some amazing acting.

(Oh, and it may not be the done thing to start with the last scene, but... is Jemma on Hala?)

The immediate problem, though is that a person who remains mysterious is killing various Inhumans who are uncovering their powers since the release of the Terrigen into the sea at the end of last season. Both SHIELD and a mysterious government organisation called ACTU, lead by the mysterious Rosalind, believe each other to be responsible.. But now. It's this half-hidden figure who looks a bit like a blue Blanka from Street Fighter II...

In other news, Bobbi is stuck doing science rather than field work since her leg got done in, and Lincoln now wants nothing to do with either SHIELD or the Inhumans, preferring to go and be ado totin a hospital. In no way will some sudden crisis later in the season force him to change his mind.

This is a brilliant, intriguing opener, setting up a lot of stuff for what promises to be another splendid season.

Grimm: Wesen Nacht

"The majority of street riots are instigated by Wesen..."

Well, that's much better. And it's a heavily arc episode, which is no coincidence.

We get introduced to this Wesen secret society who wear black and seek to create discord and chaos within the Wesen community by engineering a Kristallnacht of sorts; this and the black uniform marks them as yet another Nazi analogue.

On an apparently separate strand of plot Trubel is awake, lucid and telling lots of things to Nick and Adalind. Chavez knew all about Nick and was trying to recruit Grimms left, right and centre, including Trubel. Chavez's lot are an international government agency called "Hadrian's Wall" or "HW", a name with interesting allusions for a blogger whose Geordie wife is from Wallsend. It seems they're working to prevent some kind of nebulous Wesen uprising which quite clearly forms the basis of this season's arc.

They're paying Trubel a lot of money, and have a "Q" branch to supply her with gadget-fitted motorbikes, but for now that's all we know. So it's that, Sean's mate running for mayor of Portland and Nick and Adalind's budding relationship that are the main arcs so far.

Oh, and Trubel admits to Adalind (why are the two of them not more awkward with each other?) that she wanted to kill Juliette, and that Nick mustn't know. Well, I 'm sure that Adalind will in no way break that confidence at some point.

We end the episode, after some exciting twists and turns, with our heroes all saved from certain doom by someone who looks awfully like Juliette, and suddenly this lacklustre season seems to be looking much better. This is a fine episode and by far the best of the season up to this point.

Grimm: The Rat King

"The legend; it's true."

A fairly ho-hum story of the week, this, with a bunch of rat Wesen baddies who are persecuting a family of cat Wesen (aww!) turning out to be able to combine into a massive CGI rat monster. Reminds me of Transformers, and is on paper a good idea, but the realisation is a little awkward.

Still, as ever the arc stuff is much more interesting. Trubel spends most of the episode unconscious in hospital with a conspiracy of Wesen medical staff trying to do her in, so we don't see what she's been up to. What we do see, though, is that she has a motorbike full of the kinds of gadgets usually fitted by Q branch and has recently visited places such as Dublin, Malta, and Madrid.

Also we have Sean again being persuaded to back the mayoral campaign of his mysterious mate Andrew Dixon, who looks to be a distinct possibility as the season's big bad, almost certainly connected with all this "Occultam Liberas" stuff. We shall see.

Still, none of this disguises the awkward fact that this episode is a bit sub-par. And I have to say, so far, that this season isn't all that impressive either.

Thunderball (1965)

"Sorry, old chap. Better luck next time."

I think I can put my finger on why this film is do rubbish: it's the direction. Oh, it's fancily shot with wipes, etc, but the director does a terrible job of telling the story clearly, especially as there are so many silent aquatic sequences. The result is a confusing mess. You have to blame the director for the performances, too: yes, Adolfo Celi is rubbish as the baddie on general terms (they had to dub his dialogue), but the performances are flat all round, and when that includes the likes of Sean Connery you just have to blame the director. The film is not only incoherent, but also charmless.

And it's a pity. On paper the film should have been good. It has SPECTRE, with an embezzling underling being buzzed beneath a trap door to his doom. It has a pool full of sharks. It even has Q, now already a fixture, supplying Bond with gadgets which end up being suspiciously and exactly what he needs.

The pre-titles sequence is good though; I love the jet pack. And Tom Jones' theme tune is superb. But I'm sad to say that this is one Bond film I've no desire to see again. Long, plodding, charmless and forgettable.

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