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.

Next...

The Running Man (1987)

"I told you I'd be back."

It would be easy to praise this film for its prescience about such things as reality TV cruelty, ratings cynicism and the use of television to politically dumb down the populace. But (with a nod to The Year of the Sex Olympics) this was all done much more intelligently, and with much more metatextual wit, in a 1985 Doctor Who story called Vengeance on Varos. Unfortunately this has probably caused me to underrate The Running Man which is, to be fair, a rather good film of hilariously '80s at times.

It's that far-flung future year of 2017 when a tyrannical government has removed all civil liberties and political rights, replacing them with arbitrary rule and brainless television to whip up the reactionary fervour of the masses- a bit like Fox News but not as evil. 

It's a problem to believe in the future they present, unfortunately, because of the film's sheer Eightiesness. The hairstyles and computer screens date it instantly, and even the opening titles are uncannily like the video to M.A.R.R.S.'s "Pump Up the Volume". It's also a very cyberpunk, dystopian future, which was very much in the zeitgeist at the time, as was this particular sort of scenario, as shown by the above mentioned Doctor Who story. One thing was prescient, though: a stalker called Sub-Zero decades before Mortal Kombat.

Arnie is, well, Arnie, not so much acting as doing his stuff, and Jessie Ventura hand it up delightfully as Captain Freedom. It's a surprise to see Mick Fleetwood and Dweezil Zappa as members of the resistance but they acquit themselves well. 

It's s good film, I admit. It's just that it's hard to entangle from much of the other stuff that was in the zeitgeist at the time and it just doesn't come across as being very original. Worth watching, though.

Citizen Kane (1941)

"If I hadn't been very rich, I might have been a great man."

At the age of 38 I've finally seen this film, and feel a little bit more cultured than I was. It's far too dense with signifiers and crammed with meaning to add much to the decades of critical discussion after just one viewing, yes, but at least I can say what I thought. Essentially, it's exactly as good as people say it is. Sometimes you can go into a film with sky-high expectations and end up a little deflated that it turns out to be merely excellent rather than sublime. I suspect my expectations were lowered a little by the fact that Citizen Kane no longer tends to sit at the top of all these "Top 100" lists as it used to but, well, it should. 

Yes, the whole "rosebud" thing turns out to be a fairly facile revelation about the loss of childhood innocence, but there's a lot more going on than that. Plus the direction is incredible courtesy of a young Orson Welles, and his performance as Charles Foster Kane is spellbinding: a man of depth, wit and charisma and who never quite lets you in. 

The script, too, is as philosophical as a nineteenth century novel, with a line on memory that's redolent of Proust and a clever examination of the newspaper industry's loss of innocence, paralleling Kane's own. Most clever, though, is that Kane is only ever seen through the memories of others, never on his own terms; perhaps we have the cinematic equivalent of the unreliable narrator.

Oh, and at last I get the references in the White Stripes' "The Union Forever".

This is a truly great film and worthy of far more than a hurried blog post written on the 16.09 from Birmingham New Street to Coleshill Parkway. If you haven't seen it, you should bloody well do so.

Fantastic Four (2005)

"A few days in space. It'll be great. What's the worst that could happen?"

I can't remember where, but I recently read an interview with Stan Lee (he's 93, you know) in which he expressed the view that this film was excellent, really captured the four main characters and the dynamic between them, but that the use of Doctor Doom as a character was misconceived. This blog post is essentially me agreeing with him. Who am I to contradict the great Stan Lee? And, moreover, he's right.

(Incidentally, I love Stan's cameo in this film playing Willie Lumpkin, for once not only an actual character from the comics, but one he created).

The four main characters are perfectly written and played. Special praise has to go to Michael Chiklis as Ben, a perfect piece of casting, but Chris Evans as Johnny is also superb, and a very different performance from the same actor's portrayal of Captain America.

However, while Julian McMahon plays the role he's given very well indeed and even wears the costume at the end, this is not Doctor Doom but an entirely different character, which is a shame. That isn't enough to stop the film being very good, but it's a definite black mark.  

Still, I like the way the origin is not dwelt upon, and the script portrays all of the characters exactly as they should be. The relationship between Ben and Johnny, in particular, is perfect. This isn't the best Marvel film adaptation ever, but it's certainly a decent attempt.

The War of the Worlds (1953)

"The Martians can conquer the Earth in six days."

"The same number of days it took to create it!"

Oh dear. This film seems to be well liked. Sorry, but I'm about to give it quite the spanking. Oh, it looks good; the Martians and their craft look great. But this film is a badly written piece of crude religious propaganda with shockingly poor characterisation and hammy acting. Yes, I know it's a melodrama, but it isn't even amusing or gun to watch on a MST2000 kind of way. This is not the worst film I've seen all year, but it is the most disappointing.

Things start on a bad footing with Cedric Hardwicke, narrating and acting as the voice of H.G. Wells, giving us a tour of the Solar System that is shockingly inaccurate even for a time before space probes. Apparently Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune are not gas giants, Mercury is the only planet with no air, and Venus doesn't exist. Yes, that's right. They seem just to have forgotten it.

But then the film itself starts. And it gets worse. Oh, it's essentially just Wells' novel transplanted to McCarthy's America, but the film presents a grim picture of California in 1953, where the only thing to do on a Saturday night is a "square dance", whatever that is, with Coke instead of proper drink and, you know, fun. Life for these people can only improve under their new Martian overlords.

And then there's the stifling and crudely overdone Christian element, far too blatant to be a subtext. Now, I may be a Godless heathen myself, but I have no objection to religious subtexts in films. But this is about as subtle as a punch in the face- even the final defeat of the Martians by bacteria is portrayed as a divine miracle. And I get no sense of any true religious feeling; this is churchgoing as enforced respectability and conformity.

So... yeah. I didn't like this film much. Sorry. Still, I have high hopes for some of the films I have lined up...

Goldfinger (1964)

"Some things just simply aren't done. Like drinking Dom Perignon '53 at above 38 degrees Fahrenheit. Or listening to the Beatles without earmuffs."

Well, Bond's taste in music is pants, then.

Let's get one thing straight, first: I liked this film a lot. But... well, I like the James Bond films. I've seen most of them, some several times, but not all them. I haven't seen Goldfinger before for instance. But I'm vaguely aware that the received opinion of this film is that it's amongst the best. But, well, I liked it very much but I liked it's predecessors better.

Why? I'm not entirely sure. Perhaps it feels smaller in scale? Perhaps the locations aren't as big or exciting, with long scenes in golf clubs and dull cells, and Bond spending much of the last part of the film as a prisoner? I think it's mainly that Gert Frobe is ok but not all that good or charismatic. Even the "No, Mr. Bond, I expect you to die!" moment underwhelmed me. Has popular culture led me to expect too much?

Still, Connery is awesome as ever.and the full on gadgetry emerges with the gadget filled Aston Martin and a glimpse into "Q" branch. There are some good set pieces, too, most notably Jill Masterson being killed from asphyxiation after being covered in gold paint, as so splendidly debunked in Mythbusters.

Honor Blackman is suitably icy as the deliciously named Pussy Galore, but.. well, the sexual politics of the Bond films have raised a good number of eyebrows up until now, with all the slapping and somewhat unreconstructed attitudes, but Bond quite unambiguously subjects Pussy to sexual assault. It isn't depicted as rape, with Pussy clearly shown to be yielding... but that in itself is troubling.

Still, it has the best theme tune so far and possibly ever. And is still a bloody good film.

Waterloo (1970)

"My God, Sir! I've lost my leg!"

"My God, Sir! So you have!"

There are three striking things about this superb film: Rod Steiger's electrifying, extraordinarily charismatic and career-defining performance as Napoleon, the incredible scope and accuracy of the battle scenes, and the fact that it was made in Brezhnev's Soviet Union with an international cast. That just seems bizarre.

Still, it's an extraordinary piece of cinema and one of the most accurate historical films ever made; even the dialogue is mostly documented from real life and I recognised a few of Wellington's. The only inaccuracies I could spot were the constant references to "Belgium" (not a country until 1830) and the slight musical reference to the modern German national anthem as Blucher's Prussians arrive to save the day. This is anachronistic; the tune existed at the time but it's lyrics were a paean to Emperor Franz of Austria, hardly a friend of Prussia. The Habsburgs were hardly friends of pan-German nationalism, which in any case wouldn't really become a thing until after the revolutions of 1848. Anyway, the film...

 Steiger steals the show as Napoleon, a charismatic genius refusing to give in to the failing health of his body, but Christopher Plummer also deserves high praise for his unflappable and blunt Wellington, refusing permission to have Napoleon assassinated ahead of the battle as such things are Simply Not Done. The opening scenes are extraordinary, though: Napoleon rants and raves like Hitler in Downfall before finally abdicating, only to escape from Elba with but 1,000 troops and suede power again through sheer magnetic charisma. It's eyebrow-raising here to see a somewhat corpulent Orson Welles in a cameo as Louis XVIII.

This is a true epic in scope, both thematically and visually. If you haven't seen it.. sorry for the spoiler, but Napoleon loses. Sorry.

Terminator 2: Judgement Day (1991)

"Deep penetration!"

What? It's just a line in the film. What?

I loved this film when I saw it first at the Cannon Cinema in Hinckley, Leicestetshire at the tender age of fourteen, and watched it many times during the course of the '90s. It has a real nostalgic power for me. And yet. X it's still a good film. Very good even. And yet... it's dated a little, hasn't it?

At the time the special effects were amaaaazing. They were what made the film look awesome. Looking at the T-1000 twenty-five years later, though, and it's just... early CGI. And without the wow factor of the special effects the film stands revealed. It isn't really a suspense thriller like The Terminator; it's more a straight-up action film, a film pretty much made up of a series of set-pieces bolted together. It works, don't get me wrong, but the first film was better.

It still works well as an action film, though, and the many set pieces that make up the film are extremely well made. It's even sweet to see Arnie's T-100 as a surrogate father to John. It's interesting, too, that this very testosterone heavy action film gets a fair bit of narration from Sarah Connor, both part of the narrative and it's chorus. This a female predictive gets done degree of apparent control over the narrative. I also like the visual parallels to the first film at the beginning and end. We even get a bit of social commentary on sexual abuse in mental institutions.

Not as interesting as its predecessor, then, and it's dated a bit, but it still needs to be watched every now and again because nostalgia. Always worth a revisit.

Leave 'Em Laughing (1928)

It's a little odd, these days, to see a cinematically released comedy short that is but 21 minutes long, shorter than an episode of the typical sitcom even on commercial television. But this is bloody brilliant; the best of physical comedy which was never the same again for the generations of performers who grew up with sound. 

The visual comedy here is first class, from the slapstick of the concluding road dodgems sequence to the early scenes with Stan's aching tooth. Laurel and Hardy are geniuses without sound as much as with. This is bloody brilliant; obviously it's out of copyright so just watch it on YouTube if you've twenty minutes to spare and fancy a chuckle. Silent comedies just haven't dated in the way that some comedy from later on has done.

Well, the nurses have flapper hairstyles, the cars are 1928 vintage and have cranks, and our two stooges sleep in the same bed with nary an eyebrow raised, but you know what I mean...

The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974)

"My family's always been in meat..."

This is the template for a certain kind of slasher and, surprisingly, whereas the budget is obviously limited, it's rather better than both of them, the film being full of incident and suspense. It's also notable that, while there are a few brief and therefore effective moments of gore, the film relies much more on the suggestion of blood and gore than in showing it in any great detail. This kind of slasher is never going to trouble the "best ever" lists, but it's one of the best of it's kind.

Much of this comes from a clever plot structure and the device of having one of the characters be a wheelchair user. The kids are picked off at regular intervals throughout the film, providing us with regular bursts of excitement, and the early scenes with the hitchhiker give us some early incident and foreboding.

It matters not that we know perfectly well that the hitchhiker will turn out to be one of the baddies, or the petrol station owner. Predictability is the point. This is a well-executed film which, while part of a genre which is somewhat limited and reliant on simple melodrama in the absence of any extra little metatextual touches, justifies its status as a pioneer within that genre.

From Russia with Love (1963)

"Red wine with fish- that should have told me something!"

Two films in and we still haven't quite hit the formula as it would be. There's another perfect, fully-formed Bond villain- a cat-stroking head of SPECTRE whose face is unseen and who is, as yet, unnamed- and this time there's a rather extensive gadget, handed to Bond by Major Boothroyd of Q branch (not "Q"), this time played by Desmond Llewelyn. It's early days still, though: it's 1963, and in the final sequences Bond even wears a hat.

It's a good film though, making the most if it's glamorous Istanbul location with a set piece in the Hagia Sophia, although this contrasts somewhat with the cramped surroundings of the Orient Express.

The film is again carried by the remarkable Sean Connery, although another acting highlight is the rare appearance of George Pastell in a film not featuring Egyptian mummies. Pedro Armendariz gives us a likeable, worldly-wise Karim Bey, although it's obvious from an early stage that he's going to die. Such is the rhythm of films like this.

Daniela Bianchi is a rather passive and restrained Bond girl; that's a tradition which had still to evolve. At this point the films are still reasonably faithful adaptations of the novels, even to the absurd point of the clearly Scottish Bond being referred to as an "English gentleman. It is again, though, a bloody entertaining film.

Taxi Driver (1976)

"Some day real rain will come and wash these scum off the streets."

What to say about Taxi Driver that hasn't been said already? That it's a towering cinematic study of loneliness and of the kind of dangerously alienated outsider who will one day explode horribly, that Robert De Niro's performance here is one of the greatest performances ever?

There's not much new to say about this justifiably acclaimed film, really. But I'll try.

Travis isn't just alienated and alone- he talks to lots of people but connects with none of them- he's stuck in a dead end job with no hope, probably a virgin, and left with nothing but his macho fantasies, his dislike of what he doesn't understand and his need to find people to whom he can feel superior. The taxi, with its separation from the passengers, is a fitting metaphor for Travis' disconnection from the world.

There are some superb performances from a young Jodie Foster and Harvey Keitel, but the film relies on De Niro as much as any production of Hamlet relies on the actor playing the Dane, and he's just as good here as any of the best screen performances in that role. It's something about his eyes, his delivery. He inhabits Travis, perhaps the most frightening character in cinema, a character who is wound up tight and inevitably going to unravel.

The film gives us a surprising and unexpected "happy" ending as Travis escapes in caught from his clumsy attempt at political assassination and instead ends up lauded as a fifteen minute hero for violently rescuing the twelve year old Iris from her pimp, but even this makes us uneasy. Travis' life is no better than before. He's snapped before and he'll snap again. We end the film with all the tension of a time bomb waiting to happen.

As usual for Scorsese we get a superb soundtrack and impeccable direction for this art film about working class alienation, which sounds almost Marxist for a Hollywood film. 

The Doctor Who Pubcast

Here's Nick and myself with the latest splendid podcast..

http://dwpubcast.podomatic.com/entry/2016-01-05T11_14_44-08_00

Sherlock: The Abominable Bride

"I fear she has branched into literary criticism by means of satire. It is a distressing trend in the modern landlady."

Well, wasn't that superlatively brilliant? Oh, the present day scenes were a little pointless in terms of content (I hate Sherlock's "mind palace", too) but I suppose they had to be there to justify this episode happening. Everything else was awesome.

There's a lot here for fans of Conan Doyle's original stories by delightfully mashing A Study in Scarlet with A Study in Pink, introducing us to Sherlock with Victorian trappings. It's a real treat; all of the characters as portrayed by the actors we know work just as well in a Victorian setting, as well they should, and we have lots of fun with all of them, including Mrs Hudson. Even Mycroft (Mark Gatiss in a fat suit) and Molly Hooper (er, in a moustache, but nicely illustrating the episode's themes) make appearances.

The central image is delightfully grotesque, too- a gun totin' and bloodied bride, reminding me of the character from Kill Bill. So too is the use of Watson's stories for the Strand magazine, and the suggestion that there's a distinction between the "real" Holmes and the one who appears in the stories.

It's well directed, as everything by Douglas Mackinnon invariably is, with plenty of Sherlock's trademark visual storytelling tricks, a magnificent escape from dull realism as well as being extraordinarily clever.

There are plenty of nods to the canon, from the acknowledgement that The Blue Carbuncle is a bit pants to the five orange pips (and the use of Klan like hoods at the end ties into this, if I may spoil a century old short story). The ghostly figure haunting Sir Eustace through the mist even calls to mind The Hound of the Baskervilles. Most intriguing is the mention of Itene Adler, and the hint that the "real" Holmes has a more complicated reason for lack of interest in women than the canon version. And then there's the cocaine. And Reichenbach. Yes, even Moriarty works in this context.

The big reveal- that behind all this are a protocol-female just secret society out to get votes for women and punish abusive men- is both wonderful and a satisfying payoff to the wry commentary on gender politics as seen throughout the episode.

And then it's the present day. And Moriarty's back. Not that he isn't dead or anything, but he's back anyway. And we probably have years until the next episode...

A Man for All Seasons (1966)

"You lay traps for me!"

"No. I show you the times."

This is, obviously, an excellent film even if, like myself, you're somewhat sick of the excess of Henry VIII; can't historical dramas show a bit more interest in other periods. But we should pause and remember that this film is somewhat biased; there's a reason why it's one of the Vatican's official favourites. This is, quite literally, a hagiography. And, while I will leave the sectarian tiresomeness to those whom believe in God, I have to point out that Sir Thomas More himself tortured (personally!) and burned people at the stake because their religious beliefs did not accord with him. This makes his death seem rather less unjust; indeed, he died rather less painfully than most of his victims. More was no saint, whatever Pope Pius XI may have said.

But what of the film? Well, it's superb. To start with, look at the cast. Standing out is an excellent (and very young) John Hurt as the slimy and ambitious Richard Rich. Susannah York is excellent as Meg. Orson Welles, no less, plays Wolsey. But best of all is Paul Scofield himself, whose extraordinarily subtle and dignified More may be the highlight of his distinguished screen career.

But the script is the real star. The theme is of the rule of law, and how it protects us from both arbitrary tyranny and Hobbesian chaos. More's undoing, of course, comes because Henry, Cromwell and Rich are not as unscrupulous as he is, and will happily cut corners. The contrast is between More and Rich; More is willing to die rather than lie before God on an oath, while Tich casually perjured himself- and sacrifices More's life- for the sake of a petty little promotion.

More is forever cautioning people to avoid condemning themselves through what they say; careless talk at Henry's court cost lies. More believes that the age old religious tradition of dissembling will save him, but it does not. We proceed inexorably to his inexorable death, his world slowly narrowing; I love the shot of seasons and time passing as seem through More's tiny cell window. The end finally comes, the axe falls... and fade to black. Superb.

Dredd (2012)

"Life without parole? That's a deal you're offering?"

This film, unfortunately, exists in the shadow of a much bigger and distinctly awful film made in 1995 and starring Sylvester Stallone who (shock horror) removes his helmet. This film, on the other hand, tells a tale on a much smaller scale and, in Karl Urban, has an actor good enough to entirely subsume his ego beneath the helmet. He's sublime.

There's a monologue at the start establishing judges, Mega City One and the Cursed Earth, but this is essentially set entirely in one tower block controlled by one criminal gang. Dredd is the Dredd we know, hardly a character with depth or development potential, so he's paired with rookie Judge Anderson, a pysychic who is put through a baptism of fire before finally (and understatedly; no sentiment here!) passing her assessment. Olivia Thirley is essential in a much-needed past to add character and drama, not to mention oestrogen. Lena Headey is similarly excellent as Ma-ma, the big bad.

The world of the comics has been thoughtfully recreated for cinema. Given the grotesques and slightly cartoonish artistic style of the comics, a slavish recreation would not have worked, but its spirit remains even though there has been a necessary injection of realism. The grotesquerie and dark satire is all present and correct, and Dredd even gets a kick-ass speech. The effect of the slo-mo drug is achieved with particular creative brilliance in what is an extremely well-directed film. Dredd is nothing less than a triumph, with the decision to go small-scale completely vindicated.

I, Robot (2004)

"Can a robot write a symphony? Can a robot turn a canvas into a beautiful masterpiece?"

"Can you?"

This is the only film, as far as I know, that's been adapted from an Isaac Asimov story. And, Ironically, it's based on one of the few pieces of Asimov's SF writing that I've never read. I've read all the Foundation stuff, the Elijah Baley stuff, The Stars, Like Dust and sequels, and all of Asimov's work after 1980 that reads like very good Isaac Asimov fanfic. But I've never read any of the Susan Calvin robot stories. Oops. I suppose I'm not overly qualified to blog this film. Oh well.

While there's a low of fascinating philosophical stuff on both the Three Laws and the prospect of robots nicking people's jobs (very topical), this is fundamentally about the question of what if a robot was to exhibit sentience- what these days we call the Singularity. The theme is essentially the same as Short Circuit, but done with some intelligence.

The script is superb. I've no idea how faithful it is to the source material but it's certainly faithful in spirit to Asimov. Will Smith is excellent casting, charismatic and likeable as the technophobic, irreverent yet philosophical Spoon, while Bridget Moynahan is also excellent as the icy Susan Calvin, in personality almost a robot herself. Sonny the robot, incidentally, is voices by Joss Whedon favourite Alan Tudyk.

The design is also a triumph- the robots look great, and the world of 2035 is just futuristic enough to convince without being futuristic enough to alienate. It's a very contemporary view of the future, with none of the gleaming silver corridors of yore; instead we get a post-Cyberpunk, post-Blade Runner, lived-in future.

There are big action sequences, yes, but this film dares to be, at its heart, intimate and philosophical, and is all the better for that.

Happy New Year...

...and all that. I'm somewhat drunk.

The Lady Vanishes (1938)

"I never think you should judge any country by its politics. After all, we English are quite honest by nature, aren't we?"

I've seen a fair few Hitchcocks but, shockingly, this is the first film helmed by the great Sir Alfred that I've blogged. It's an early, pre-Hollywood film, but all his gifts for suspense are already on evidence. Engaging characters, a worry script and a solid presence- an old lady mysteriously vanished from a moving train and people start denying that she was ever there- make this a bloody good film. Margaret Lockwood and Michael Redgrave are superb as leads.

The characterisation, direction, dialogue and acting come across as fresh and mover considering the film's age, and I love the two cricket-obsessed Englishmen. The plot twist is also handled extremely well and successfully as the conspiracy unravels and peril (I love that word) ensues. This isn't perhaps one of the best known Hitchcocks but it's certainly a bloody good film.

Short Circuit (1986)

"Number Five is alive!"

I remember seeing this on video in the '80s and, being nine or ten, quite liked it. I had fond memories of the film so, I thought, why not blog it? It'll be a pleasant jog through memory lane, right?

Er, wrong. Watching it as an adult, the film isn't exactly awful but it's functional, by-the-numbers, slow and, despite the cuteness and coolness of the robot itself, not more than mildly engaging.

But there is, of course, another thing, a film that makes the film quite arse-clenching embarrassing to watch in 2015 and, surely to Hod, in 1986 as well.

Yep, it's all about the character of Ben, a character who is supposed to be of South Asian origins with an Indian accent. I vaguely remembered that the film had an Indian character but it's something to see that the character was played by a white actor, in brownface. Yep. This really happened. Ten years earlier or so you'd just sigh and reflect that this sort of thing used to happen... but this is happen 1986. And it isn't helped by the fact that the character is written and played as a "funny" foreigner with "hilarious" malapropisms. I've just looked around the Interweb and, while there are a few appalled bloggers out there, most people (then and now) seem not to be particularly concerned that all this might be just a little bit incredibly racist.

The early scenes between Number Fove and Stephanie (Ally Sheedy is rather good) are entertaining, as are all the scenes where the robot runs rings around his pursuers, but that isn't anywhere near enough to make up for the character of Ben. This is a film I once remembered fondly, but it's probably best forgotten.

We're Doomed! The Dad's Army Story

"Sometimes you need to bow to the talent!"

It's good to know that these types of dramas are still happening even though all new drama has been sadly banished from BBC 4. This particular example is merely quite good rather than great, but long may this sort of thing continue.

The main interest for most of us, of course, is the casting. Shane Ritchie for Bill Pertwee works well, John Sessions as Arthur Lowe works well (although I'm glad they used real footage from Pardon the Expression as watched at home by Jimmy Perry), although the casting of Michael Crichton as Arnold Ridley doesn't work. Crichton is a bloody good actor but he's just, well, nowhere near physically frail enough. It's Keith Allen who really steals the show, however, as sceptical BBC executive Paul Fox.

You're reminded of just how counterculture and creative the BBC was in 1967; Jimmy Perry served in the war, yet he dresses like a hippy, as do an awful lot of people. There's a nice little in joke about Jon Pertwee turning down the part of Mainwaring because of money; shades of how he left Doctor Who there.

This isn't exactly a televisual highlight of 2015, but it's a pleasant way to spend an hour, with plenty of in-jokes for British TV nerds like me.

Dr No (1962)

"Tell me, does the toppling of American missiles really compensate for having no hands?"

Time for my first Bond film, I think. I'll blog them all as and when, but in order. I'm not really a hardcore Bond fan, but I've certainly seen and enjoyed a lot of Bond films and I'm expecting to have a lot of fun along the way.

My first observation is that Sean Connery is superb, and oozes charisma: all the other British characters are very, very public school, yet Connery manages to pull off the character of Bond, comfortable in casinos and colonial gentlemens' clubs, while maintaining his working class Edinburgh accent, and pulls it off. In an age of strict actorly RP he's unique, and he pulls it off brazenly and brilliantly. This film is a triumph in no small part to his charisma.

My second observation is that all the women seem to have been written by fifteen year old boys but, hey, that's Bond. No Bechdel test here.

My third observation is just how long ago this film was made. Yes, everyone dresses as though they're in an episode of Mad Men but, even more evocative of just how long ago it was, this film is set in a Janaica that's still a British colony, with a Governor General and everything.it seems the Winds of Change haven't reached gale force yet. Still, the film deserves credit for not being particularly racist for its time, although I notice that, in the case of Quarrel, the trope of the black guy getting killed is present and correct.

It's a reasonably faithful adaptation of the novel- a more cinematic spider is substituted for the centipede, but this is a much more straightforward adaptation than what came later. There are no gadgets: Major Boothroyd (not called Q) only appears in a rather pointless scene where he replaces Bond's gun. One thing is present and correct, though: "Honey Rider" is (titter) the first of many, er, hilariously naughtily named Bond girls. And Dr No is the archetypal Bond villain from the start, with the lair and arch dialogue down pat.

I suppose I have a hard time believing that anyone could have believed that "dragon" was a flesh and blood creature, but other than that very minor pint the film is superb, and it's easy to see why the Bond films continued.

The Third Man (1949)

"In Italy, for thirty years under the Borgias, they had warfare, terror, murder and bloodshed, but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci and the Renaissance. In Switzerland, they had brotherly love, they had five hundred years of democracy and peace – and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock."

Yes, it had to be that quote. Predictable but necessary.

This film is, essentially, superb. It tends to suffer somewhat from the overly high expectations one tends to have for films as critically acclaimed as this, but I won't discriminate against it for that. The film didn't choose to be so hyped. In truth, this film may not be quite amongst the best ever made but it is, nonetheless, utterly superb.

I won't recount the intriguing plot with its twists and turns and the gradual reveal of the story of Harry Lime, played with splendid charisma by the great Orson Welles. But the script paints as dark a picture of human nature as one would expect from the typewriter of Graham Greene. Vienna is made to look awesome by Carol Reed in its monochrome splendour, and the cast is superb. This is a Vienna still under occupation by the four powers, where even minor aristocrats resort to the black market to survive. This once-great imperial city has fallen very far indeed, with its grandiose Habsburg architecture seeming to mock it. 

Above all this film has atmosphere, pervaded as it is by a sense of doom and pessimism. And above it all floats that zither tune. This is a film that everyone should see.

Daredevil (2003)

"I want a bloody costume!"

Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear.

I remember seeing this at the pictures when it came out. As far as I can recall I didn't hate it. I may not have been overwhelmed but I was, at least, moderately whelmed. This time, though... oh dear. I'm afraid this review is going to be quite the spanking.

Please understand that this film isn't awful merely because it stars Ben Affleck, which is never a good thing, or even that Affleck is in even worse form than usual. Jon Favreau is awful (he should stick to directing), Jennifer Garner phones in her performance, and while Michael Clarke Duncan is a good actor he's miscast as the Kingpin. He has a kind face. You just can't cast him as a baddie, although it doesn't help that the Kingpin's lines are the worst in the film. Only Colin Farrell manages to shine by, wisely, chewing the scenery with gusto as it's the only thing you can do with lines like that.

And that brings us to the script, a steaming pile of dung. It beggars belief that anyone seriously thought this script was ready for production. It's clear from the performances that the cast doesn't exactly believe in it. None of the characters are well-developed. Far too much time is spent on a totally unnecessary recap of Daredevil's origin- why are superhero films always doing this?- and Daredevil doesn't act or feel like Daredevil. He kills. He beats people up and generally behaves like a homicidal Batman. It just feels wrong.

At least we can keep ourselves entertained by counting all the names of comics creators here. I'm not sure how Joe Quesada feels about giving his name to a rapist, but Kevin Smith gets a cameo as "Jack Kirby" (and Frank Miller gets a brief cameo as, naturally, does Stan Lee) and Jack Murdock has recently fought "Miller, Mack, Bendis" and is seen fighting John Romita.

Still, this film is a turd. It's not even entertainingly bad. For the morbidly curious only.

Doctor Who: The Husbands of River Song

"What's that? Are you... thinking? Stop it. You're a man. It looks weird."

The Moff ended the series just gone by subverting the Big Epic Season Finale through rejecting all of the epicness in favour of a more human, character-based episode. Here he uses the Christmas episode to give us a perfect little character piece, albeit with plenty of entertainment along the way. This is almost certainly the swansong for River Song, and an extremely fitting one, and rumour has it that it was almost- but not quite- the Moff's last script for the series. Long may he reign, say I.

The plot is a glorious Christmas caper, but we shall say little about it other than to note the nice little nods to The Restaurant at the End of the Universe and The Brain of Morbius. There are some splendid comedy turns from Matt Lucas and (in a part that must have been enormous fun to play) Greg Davies. Oh, and I love the way the Doctor defeats Hydroflax's body by using the fact that the stock market is so utterly incomprehensible. But the episode is essentially both a screwball comedy and entirely about the relationship between River and the Doctor. So let's proceed to talk about nothing else, shall we?

The main conceit, of course, is that River spends the whole episode failing, rather amusingly, to notice that the man she's with is the Doctor. In a lesser script this could have made the character look stupid, but not here; it's nicely counterbalanced by River being portrayed as cool and resourceful. Indeed, the Doctor/companion relationship is essentially reversed to the point where River holds the Doctor's hand and runs and, in the episode's funniest scene, the Doctor pretends to be amazed that the TARDIS is bigger on the inside, seizing the chance to do it "properly". Both Kingston and Capaldi are superlative, and so is their chemistry together; the two of them on screen together work wonderfully well as a believable couple. Capaldi's ongoing moments of annoyance at River's other "husbands" are a joy, as is River's casual comment that she's always "borrowing" the TARDIS without the Doctor ever noticing.

And yet.. River is sad. Her diary is running out of pages, and the man who gave it to her would have known how many pages she needed. Silence in the Library beckons, especially as the Doctor here gives her the sonic screwdriver that she uses in that story. A nice touch, although the sonic trowel is cool and perfect for an archaeologist, as my fellow Time Team fans would know.

The scene where the penny finally drops for River ("Hello, sweetie"- more role reversal between them) is wonderful, as is her passionate speech about the Doctor; she loves him with all her heart, but you don't expect a phenomenon as big as the Doctor to love you back as a mere mortal would. And she's fine with that.

Their last ever date before River's death (I love the revelation that River's last night will last 24 years!) is wonderfully written with dialogue that sings like the towers, which are themselves a metaphor for the awesome monolith that is the Doctor. It's the perfect ending to what may well be the finest ever Christmas episode.

But how long will we have to wait for more Doctor Who?

Star Wars: The Force Awakens (2015)

"Is there a garbage chute? A trash compactor?"

Well, that was a little bit awesome. First point: this is going to be a very positive review. Second point :SPOILERS. This is going to be one very spoilerific blog post. If you don't want to see the scores, look away now.

We see lots of Han and Chewie, a fair bit of Leia, some of Threepio, less of Artoo and only a final glimpse of Luke. And, unlike the prequels with its forgettable characters, here we have the very likeable and interesting Finn and Rey, and it is the success of these two new characters, above all, that makes J J Abram's sequel such a triumph. He's also realised what good Star Wars should be: not so much science fiction but the feel of myth with the trappings of science fiction.

It's brave to hold off the appearance of any familiar characters for the first part of the film while we get to know Rey and Finn, but it works. Rey is a deliberate parallel of Luke on Tattooine, poor but noble and waiting for a family that will never come- but the Force is strong in her. Finn is a stormtrooper with a conscience, already a rich and powerful background for a character. It helps that both of them are played so well.

And then Han and Chewie appear. It's so good to se them, and Harrison Ford is so amazing you forget how old he is. He gets a huge role and gets to be really heroic- and at the endowed see why, narratively, it had to happen: killed by his own evil son. Whose mother, Leia, now leads the Resistance and is as cool as ever.

The First Order, who have taken over from the Empire, are superb baddies and... well, they're Nazis, aren't they? There were so many punch the air moments with the reveal of various old faces- Admiral Ackbar! Nien Nunb! Yes, lots of the plot beats feel familiar, but so they should. The plot feels completely Star Wars. Everything looks good, with a proper, finely balanced Star Wars aesthetic for all the aliens and all the decor. J J Abrams has done an amazing job.