Chris Smith directs Billy McFarland, Ja Rule and Andy King in this documentary about a high end tropical island music festival sold on Instagram that didn’t exactly deliver on the once in a lifetime experience promised.

A hyperbolic look at a hyperbolic non-event. Are a struggling rapper and a jock turned entrepreneur the biggest fraudsters of their generation? Or people who knew how to sell an idea in the digital age but not how to deliver the infrastructure? I get the feeling the latter is true and most of the ticket buyers seem equally pathetic and useless. The prick who confessed to destroying neighbouring tents so he could have a little bit more shithole than everyone else is more detestable than the yes men, dead eyed models and party bros who destroyed their “reputations” by failing to deliver a Blink-182 gig on Pablo Escobar’s former retreat. These jarbronis are representative of such a small subsection of their generation, rather than indicative so this is an exercise in lightweight schadenfreude, pure and simple. Essentially an amusing anecdote stretched over 90 minutes the highlights involving an exciting bit of bartering for mineral water (no thanks, I’ll keep my Evian!) and Ja Rule screaming like a dictator “If we fuckin wanna go see the pigs, we go see the pigs”. Spoiler warning… Pigs are seen of all sizes.

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George Cukor directs Judy Garland, James Mason and Jack Carson in this musical remake of the Hollywood romance where one famous husband’s career wanes while his discovery / wife’s flourishes.

Not the original but the best. It mixes cynicism with spectacle beautifully, a real sweet and sour delight of golden age filmmaking. Mason excels as the alcoholic romantic, he has never been better. I feel a cad typing this… Garland maybe is noticeably a decade too old to play the ingenue but her unique cinematic sparkle cannot be diminished. She is simply tremendous in the musical numbers. The version we watched is the slightly Frankensteined edition, where lost scenes are patched together with publicity stills. These moments would have been good cinema if retained but the subplot covered by them is inessential in the grand scheme of things. If you want glitz, tragedy and sweep then Cukor’s A Star is Born is the alternative Hollywood epic of choice. One without a battlefield, loincloth or horse in sight. Get ready to be starstruck!

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Alan Parker directs Maureen Teefy, Irene Cara, Gene Anthony Ray in this semi-musical look at the pupils of a prestigious New York school of performing arts.

A hit famous for its catchy theme song. Parker immerses us into this world with full pelt energy. The opening breakneck montage of auditions is sustained impressively… a litany of hope, talent and crushing disappointment. That pretty much sets the tone once things slow down. We never settle on characters long enough to really care about them, and their futures are left pointedly but frustratingly unrealised. Yet for a teen movie of impromptu cafeteria dances and unconvincing stand-up successes, the endeavour has a supringly frank air of loneliness, desperation and exploitation. It doesn’t shy from the pitfalls that young people entering a career in entertainment certainly will suffer. Not as callow as you remember, yet not as joyously fun either.

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Quentin Dupieux directs Benoit Poelvoorde, Gregoire Ludig and Anaïs Demoustier in this French cop comedy about a mundane interrogation that leaps out of reality.

For the most part this is your standard French farce… busy, comically beige, not particularly laughter inducing. Then it skips the rails in the last act… not necessarily for the better but certainly memorably. Good leads.

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Jeremy Saulnier directs Chris Sharp, Macon Blair and Stacy Rock in this black comedy where a dope goes to a murder party for Halloween only to find he is the intended victim.

Cheaply made with the occasional visual flourish that betrays the greater things to come from Saulnier and Blair (Blue Ruin, Green Room, I Don’t Feel at Home in this World Anymore). To be honest this owes a lot to Edgar Wright, it is all cartoonish framing, crash cuts and brash characters. The heart of their influence isn’t here though, neither is the compelling gritty grip they developed into their later, far superior works. Essentially a spoof of the conceptual art world with some low budget set pieces thrown in. The people being satirised don’t generate much attraction, the thrills are adequate if sparse. Not essential viewing.

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Paul Verhoeven directs Hans van Tongeren, Renée Soutendijk and Toon Agterberg in this teen drama about three motorcross bikers who are seduced by the same chip van worker.

A heady mixture of Breaking Away and Saturday Night Fever only with the tragedy and bawdiness of the latter amped up. Being a Verhoeven, this doesn’t play nice with sensibilities- if you are Christian, disabled, gay, carnivorous or a woman look away now. There’s bound to be something here that will shock you… yes, even you. Unlike his earlier, similar Turkish Delight though you do actually grow to like and care about these protagonists; especially poor, sexy Renée Soutendijk who has the looks, iron will and proclivities to escape her fast food truck life but not the luck. She keeps backing the wrong horse. The dirt biking sequences are exciting too, Verhoeven proving his action chops. Not for the easily offended but well worth a watch.

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Hong Sang-soo directs Jung Eun-Chae, Lee Sun-Kyun and Yoo Jun-sang in this Korean romantic comedy about a young woman who wants to break up with the married teacher who she is having an affair with.

Haewoon likes drinking, daydreaming, dressing classically, drinking, dating academics and drinking. You certainly like her and Hong Sang-soo presents her with plenty of paths (romantic and otherwise) to look down in this crossraods moment of her life. His style has the weightlessness of mumblecore, the aura of Richard Linklater or Woody Allen. This first taste doesn’t really hit the spot as a work of genre, it doesn’t have much to say as a drama. It ambles along at it own insignificant pelt. Not for me really, I’ll give his highly praised and extensive back catalogue one more try but I don’t think I’ve discovered a new favourite director here. I’m more likely to seek out Jung Eun-Chae again as she holds the gaze even when the film switches to screensaver mode, as it often seems to.

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Marielle Heller directs Melissa McCarthy, Richard E. Grant and Dolly Wells in the true story crime comedy about a struggling writer who forged antique letters for cash.

In the 70s this wouldn’t have been marketed as Oscar bait but as a mainstream comedy. Same as Green Book or even Three Billboards. Just because a film is sensitive in its portrayal, complex in its morality or realistic in its setting doesn’t change the fact the script is full of zingers and the cast deliver them with impeccable aplomb. What changed the landscape? Saturday Night Live? Blazing Saddles? When did every ‘comedy’ become a spoof or a detached from reality elongated sketch? When did we lose Billy Wilder’s sophisticated wit and embrace Rob Schneider’s barefaced tomfoolery? This blog proves I’m no snob… I love broad, gross out, colourful, zany star led flicks. But when did we give up on the more grown-up stuff. Now when these films are released (see anything from Lost in Translation to Joy), they are treated as serious prestigious dramas rather than a showcase for sophisticated humorous writing delivered with glee by committed stars. And look at the pleasure McCarthy and Grant take in having well developed, acid tongued parts. Their partners in crime double act is a seedy delight, both bringing their long forgotten A-Game and inviting us along for laugh filled ride. A cynical treat.

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Steven Soderbergh directs Rooney Mara, Jude Law and Catherine Zeta-Jones in this neo-noir yuppie in peril mystery where a prominent psychiatrist and a depressed young lady find themselves trapped in a web of deceit.

Two watches in and I still haven’t untangled the myriad of twists and sleight of hand in this superior thriller. Soderbergh lends the machinations and hidden in plain sight villiany a deadpan elegance. This is a beautiful film about beautiful people. Some are ethically desensitised, others are all out detached from morality. The plot takes glee in obstructing then uncovering and then punishing the abusers of this grey area. Special props to Rooney Mara who somehow manages to retain a convincing poker face through the anxiety driven breakdowns and heated seduction scenes. Jude Law is also well utilised as the mark, he fits snugly into roles where you have little sympathy for our shill but still have to follow his journey towards enlightenment intently. Great stuff.

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My Top 10 Yuppies in Peril Movies 

1. Funny Games (1997)
2. The Fugitive (1993)
3. Strangers On a Train (1951)
4. Dead Calm (1990)

5. The Spanish Prisoner (1997)
6. The Player (1992)
7. After Hours (1985)
8. Audition (1999)
9. Ransom (1996)

10. Pacific Heights (1990)

Wim Wenders directs Arthur Brauss, Kai Fischer and Erika Pluhar in this drama about a sociopathic goalkeeper who goes off the rails and returns to his small hometown after a one night stand.

There is a shock at the end of the first act that I don’t want to spoil here but makes the rest of the movie difficult to talk about. It is a meandering non-story about an unlikable character, brutish in his interactions and pathetic in a lot of his conflicts. He watches movies at the cinema, drinks beer, tries to get his leg over, plays jukeboxes. In many ways it is pure Wenders territory but we view his everyday comings and goings through the filter of that one twist moment. The mundane idling becomes sinister and hyper truthful when attached to his earlier actions.

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