John Hughes directs Steve Martin, John Candy and Laila Robins in this warm road comedy about a highly strung executive struggling to get home for Thanksgiving and the shower curtain ring salesman who he can’t seem to shake off. 

A throwaway comedy I never saw in its entirety as a kid, bowled me over at the Filmhouse members festive screening. Loads of hilarious set pieces abound, with both Martin and Candy revving their engines and racing neck and neck with each other to steal the show. Hughes, as with his teen classics, reveals depths to their broad archetype characters that gives the whole zany odyssey a sheen of emotional maturity, rare for this form of ribald farce.

8

 

Steve Kloves directs Dennis Quaid, Meg Ryan and James Caan in this borderlands crime drama about a man trying to ignore his criminal childhood, despite his father, a young grifter and a pretty yet damaged waif interjecting themselves into his solitary existence. 

A neat little neo-noir, stronger in atmosphere and character than when it tries to tame all its wild plot horses into one cohesive corral. The Jim Thompson-esque grifting lifestyles are well realised, the starry cast doing their best to make their high end profiles fit into the dust and desperation.

6

Jon Amiel directs Richard Gere, Jodie Foster and Bill Pullman in this post-Civil War romancer, a remake of a French hit, about a returning soldier who may not be the man he says he is. 

This was snootily looked down on at the time of release as a middling star vehicle. Now it feels like a mature, engaging rarity. A convincing adult period romance, expansive yet sensitive, seductive yet gritty. Sure, the trial ending overreaches and tries to become The Crucible… but a slither of daft, avoidable tragedy aside, the committed leads sparkle nicely off each other in sexy candlelight and comfy linens. The mystery of whether Gere is or isn’t the real Sommersby is so swiftly resolved, that the real hook seems to be how much Jodie Foster’s widow is playing along. Her slightly wavering poker face is an absolute treat, a lighter role for her but the kind a female star would kill for these days. Plus, for the curious, you get a fully immersive education in Reconstruction era tobacco farming.

7

Richard Donner directs Mel Gibson, Danny Glover and Gary Busey in this buddy cop action thriller about a high ranking LAPD detective partnered with a suicidal former special ops killer.

I remember watching clips of this after family dinner on Barry Norman’s Film 87 (they showed the “Do you really wanna jump?” suicide stunt and the shooting range plot recap, if you care to know). These glimpses certainly peaked my pre-pubescent interest. Then catching everything after Riggs’s Three Stooges Christmas tree drug bust in the bedroom of a friend’s house on a tiny 12 inch TV. And that was it.  Between the ages of 10 and 20, all I wanted to do with my life was to make a Lethal Weapon movie. I know I’m asking to be part of the rarest of breeds; only Richard Donner and the gang from Paddy’s Pub have ever achieved this echelon of greatness. Fair to say my twenties were a disappointment, completely living under the shadow that this was becoming less and less likely to happen. Luckily, I then met Natalie. A fine woman who loves Lethal Weapon even more than I do… hell she even likes 3?! We sing the happy clappy Murtagh family happy birthday song down the phone to family members (on their birthdays, we are not mentals). And she seems contented enough that I’ve matured into more of a Roger than a Martin. And, like a Die Hard, that’s kinda what makes Lethal Weapon perfect. It is a kaleidoscope of conflicting genres hidden in a simple action movie. It is a very romantic movie; both in Rigg’s devotion to his perfect dead wife; the rare time Hollywood shows a happy, normal middle class marriage with the Murtaughs; and between the growing trust and affection the two mismatched cops have for each other. Being Shane Black scripted, it makes for a brilliant alternative Christmas movie. Funny too, the constant banter has more zingers than a screwball comedy. And like Inception, it is a drama about a broken, obsolete man working through his grief via spectacular ass kicking work and becoming a valued member of a team. It even replays the Vietnam War – with the technologically under invested natives on their home turf taking on a capitalist mercenary machine over ideology and heroin. Metaphor, muthafuckers! The only thing Lethal Weapon doesn’t work as is a detective thriller. Bad guys kill girl, cops cause destruction and mayhem following leads into dead end, eventually bad guys just decide they don’t like the attention so kidnap and torture the cops for a finale. Even James Bond at least finds a relevant 5 Star spot to wait to be taken to the megalomaniac’s underground lair. But this isn’t about plotting, it is about moments. Moments of Riggs’ zany death games, meaning he will do anything to close a case and can do anything to kill a perp. Gibson is perfect in this, blending goofy clown with aggressive anguish, with convincing deadly accuracy. Bottled up rage has never gotten through so many checkered shirts. And the action, even though some of it comes in forced episodes, is brutal, kinetic and utterly engaging. You feel it as Mel pushes his body to the limits whether it is enduring electro shock torture, pelting down the boulevard barefoot with a sub machine gun, or grappling Gary Busey to the death in the rain. Gibson looks like he is feeling all that pain and exertion for us. At times he is a curly permed, one liner cracking, Christ on the Cross suffering the sins of the world to an Eric Clapton soundtrack. Absolutely Badass!

10

David Ayer directs Will Smith, Joel Edgerton and Noomi Rapace in the fantasy buddy cop actioner where an ageing LAPD uniform cop and his unwanted orc partner get caught between warring gangs of homies and elves. 

A servicable mid-budget movie. The Tolkien meets Straight Outta Compton elements are visually a little too on the nose but consistent. Ayer is confident enough to include passing shots of dragons and centaurs, smartly suggesting this universe is more expansive than the minimum the story requires. Big Willy Style builds on his good work in Suicide Squad by delivering the kinda accessible, street performance we used to queue around the block to watch him do Fresh in the 90s. He has good chemistry with Edgerton and their dynamic is about as believable as seasoned patrol cop and an orc rookie’s could be. Where Bright suffers isn’t in chemistry or concept, it is in the repetitive set pieces. With one notable exception, all involve the heroes hiding, crouching and weaving while another gang open fire on them or each other. When Ayer starts repeating the locations for these deadening salvos in the third act the movie lost me almost entirely. If we do get a sequel, and I’d say there is scope and appetite for a better adventure, then a bit more imagination should go into the thrills now the basics have been decently established.

6

Stephen Chbosky directs Jacob Tremblay, Julia Roberts and Owen Wilson in this saccharine tale of a facially disfigured rich kid starting school and exposing the loneliness in everyone’s life.

What does Owen Wilson do? How can he fund the millionaire’s lifestyle of his miserable family? In real life the kid with Treacher Collins syndrome would be the only kid at that school not being bullied. This isn’t real life. This is more puke worthy than that. Manipulative bunkum.

2

James Franco directs himself, Dave Franco and Alison Brie in this recreation of the making of “the worst movie ever made,” The Room, and the strange relationship between its principals, Tommy Wiseau and Greg Sestero.

A hipster Ed Wood but with little of the heart. My fear going in wasn’t that I never wanted to watch The Room. The idea of being in a roomful of unproductive yuppies screeching with laughter at the end product of a group of people who had least tried to create some art repulses me. My fear was it would be merely a cynical spoof of their failed endeavour. The first hour almost won me over, the Francos clearly have a loyal affection for their true story counterparts. Some chuckles are elicited from their enthusiastic awfulness. But after that hour you realise the story has little humour away from the calculated schadenfreude and little drama away from a bit of salacious on-set gossip about elevated nobodies. When they devote an extra 10 minutes of runtime before the end credits to recreating scenes from the film they couldn’t fit into the narrative, you realise what this all is… expensive celebrity karaoke to a song you wouldn’t bother listening to by the original artist. Ed Wood didn’t just make you want to watch Glen Or Glenda?, it crystallised its overlooked decency and ambition, while The Disaster Artist is merely a dull film about a bad joke.

3

 

Takashi Miike directs Takuya Kimura, Hana Sugisaki and Sōta Fukushi in this hyperviolent samurai revenge actioner.

Blood worms. They keep you alive forever and seal up any wound or dismemberment. Perfect if you need to kill a thousand fucking samurai over three hours. Sometimes in relentless droves, other times in fantastically costumed one-on-one marathon duels, duels with villians so stunningly designed you want to start collecting the Blade of the Immortal action figure range from Kenner. Viciously slapstick and touchingly involving, this mixes the bad taste body horror carnage Miike is infamous for, with the more sumptuous period setting he has toyed with recently in the equally well made 13 Assassins and Hara-Kiri.

7

George Clooney directs Matt Damon, Julianne Moore and Noah Jupe in this fifties set neo-noir about an all American boy witnessing his family fall apart after an iffy home invasion. 

Clooney directs a dusty, dated Coen’s cast off script. All the good ideas have been reused elsewhere and only Oscar Issac’s brings any of the screwball verve that the Brothers themselves can ellicit from a cast. Part of the problem is, although there is murder and mayhem in this starchy suburban “utopia”, none of it comes at you from left of field, it all feels rather obvious. Pedestrian even. There is a subplot involving the arrival of the new first black family next door and the rabid mob who protest their presence. The joke might be that they are being objected to while far worst things are going on across the driveway. But these glimpses of stoic heroism never gel into the run of the mill stranglings, poisoning and bludgeoning going on with All American honkys we stick distractingly with.

5

Wally Pfister directs Johnny Depp, Rebecca Hall, Paul Bettany in this sci-fi movie about a dying computer genius who uploads his personality into an evolving super computer. 

A beautiful and occasionally haunting movie scuppered by an uncertain tone (you get the feeling someone really wanted the cold Kubrickian drama to be an action movie) and lifeless performances. Not as bad as its toxic reputation suggests, but still wasteful of some expertly conceived imagery and some potentially cinematic ideas.

4