Anthony Harvey directs George C. Scott, Joanne Woodward and Jack Gilford in this philosophical comedy romance about a man who thinks he is Sherlock Holmes and the Doctor Watson who falls for him.

This week’s “lost” classic is a warm, emotionally intelligent and consistently charming experience. If you appreciate the good intentions of films like The Fisher King or Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, (their dealings with love, loss, mental health and reality) then this feels like the forgotten foundation for their explorations and success. George C Scott puts in a typically commited shift and impresses as always, while the rest of the cast are plucked from sitcoms and children’s classic bringing an inherent screwball innocence. The entire endeavour has the broadness and likeability of a vintage family comedy, the characters are to a man distinctly wacky and the set pieces low key yet enthusiastic. But hidden amongst all this soft, accessible energy is an engagingly smart and affecting adult piece that will stay in your thoughts long after more “serious” attempts have spent their “important” loads. I get the feeling I’ve just found a new favourite.

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Amma Asante directs David Oyelowo, Rosamund Pike and Jack Davenport in this true story of an African prince who marries a white Londoner but risks his nation’s sovereignty with the Empire by doing so. 

A fascinating fact based story well told, though a certain heavyhanded worthiness slows things down in the second half. Pike and Oyelowo’s London courtship is the highlight as they get satisfying screentime together here and chime exceedingly well with each other, so when the political machinations in Africa eventually take centre stage the film loses its heart a little. Handsome enough Sunday teatime fare.

6

Robert Zemeckis directs Brad Pitt, Marion Cotillard and Jared Harris in this wartime romantic thriller about two spies who fall for each other only to discover one might be a double agent.

Here we go, gang! A glossy modern day crack at a Notorious or a Casablanca, full of surprising violence and glimpses of sex and drugs, that manages to nearly always marry the intimate with the epic. The confident experimental sweep with which Zemeckis tells his tale of desert trysts, Blitz intrigue and resistance detecting manages to out Spielberg Spielberg (Zemeckis really has been delivering on that promise throughout his career). The balls out opening shot of Pitt floating down into the North African desert exposes an experienced storyteller who is just going to take it to the edge and do pirouettes for two magnificent hours. Now, it is fair to say the pace shifts about a bit and current audiences may not care for the moments that lean heavily on starpower. But who cares about their immature needs? Cotillard manages to pump blood and guts into a role that could consumed with being merely enigmatic, and there’s a reason Pitt is the closest we have to an old school movie star of the Gary Cooper or Montgomery Clift brand. Every flinch and twitch of his ageing yet smoothly golden face feels like a tale in itself, he is one of those actors who you are so drawn to watching he needs to do very little externally to win you over. And whether it is listening to frustrating exposition in vintage knitwear or calmly taking on a tank singlehandedly, that coiled minimalism is electrifying here. The set dressers and costume designers match the high bar that the pairing of possibly the two most beautiful people currently in Hollywood sets,  with a cornucopia of faded primary colours and worn but soft textures enveloping the eyes at every scene change. A whole gateau of movie magic – it is fair to say I pretty much loved every slice of this.

9

Renny Harlin directs Jackie Chan, Johnny Knoxville and Fan Bingbing in this tale of a Hong Kong cop who needs to get a yankee gambler across borders from Siberia to back home with 72 hours. 

A poor man’s Midnight Run that outstays its welcome by a good half an hour… yet having said that… Jackie and Knoxville have a great chemistry that makes it difficult to dismiss. And why shouldn’t they work well together? A pair of past it but beloved B-Movie stars who made their names mixing risky stunts with broad comedy, I wouldn’t mind seeing them reunited in something a little tighter that hits the same notes as this does when it makes a concerted effort. Some of the earlier action sequences have a daft chaos and some neat visual jokes (the Russian dolls fight is a treat). Fan Bingbing is easy on the eye, as are the globetrotting locations. All in all forgettable but comfortable.

5

Tyler Shields directs Abigail Breslin, Alexander Ludwig and Wes Bentley in this tale of young lady raised and trained to turn the tables on a group of male slashers. 

A nice little concept, made on the cheap (all though the director clearly embraces this, almost celebrating the artificiality of the sets). The kind of movie that exists only in it own little world, so that unbelievable logic or behaviour can be overlooked by the generous viewer, just like the fake trees and secret base that quite clearly is a late night car park structure. Breslin and Bentley have a nice dynamic (think Batman Begins if Bruce Wayne had a teenage crush on Ra’s al Ghul… and who is to say he didn’t?). Once we are let loose into the woods the stalk and slash sequences go for invention rather than tension, and yet somehow end up repetitive. A diverting throwaway horror, that had the potential to be even more given the central conceit and decent acting talent, you could still do a lot worse at this murky end of the genre.

5

Mark Waters directs Billy Bob Thornton, Tony Cox and Brett Kelly in this soulless cash-in on the cult cynical Christmas classic.

I laughed loudly once near the beginning of this belated sequel to a personal festive favourite and I feel guilty. Not because the humour was in bad taste (it fucking should be) but because I’m sure it was goodwill rather than accidental good writing that tickled out this solitary reaction. Quickly you realise the relentless bleakness of the original has been replaced by frat boy naughtiness… and not even the mindlessly funny kind. Then I had a nap but no further laughter from the quarter full screening woke me and when I opened my eyes of my own volition we were all exactly where we already were when I nodded off. Willie Soke of the original was a failure at his lowest ebb, all transgressive behaviour was the hilarious lashings out of a man who has long ago given up, his partner was a midget who nearly always had the upper hand, and the kid was a fucking enigma who baffled us as much as the thief – a real funny dynamic for the black hearted. Here Soke gets to insult his partner with achingly obvious jibes, who is pointedly always the butt of the joke, while the kid disappointingly just goes full retard. About as funny as a used chemotherapy drip… at least one of those went through its gloopy poisonous motions with some hope of a positive result. Disgraceful given the first film’s rare qualities… I can’t believe I’ve wasted quite so many keystrokes on this humourless cheap slither of shit.

1

James Schamus directs Logan Lerman, Sarah Gadon and Tracy Letts in the Philip Roth adaptation involving a determined Jewish student’s discovery of the unfairness of compromise.

Schamus has been part of movie landscape for decades – I know and rate him best from his rather awesome collaborations with Ang Lee – strange then that he chose a lesser Roth work to unleash his long bottled up craftsmanship and deft cinematic touch on as his own debut. Indignation makes a fine companion piece to Ewan McGregor’s underrated take on American Pastoral, whereas many critics felt the actor turned new director was swamped by the epic sweep and meta narrative of the original work, here the slimmer tome gives Schamus more room to explore Roth’s very recognisable set list of lust, repression, Americanism, Jewishness, conformity and beliefs. In fact in a few (later echoed) establishing shots of rest home wallpaper and the Korean War he manages to skip smartly over the whole issue of imagined perspectives and unreliable narrators that seem to trip most Roth adaptations up. As for the plot itself, it initially feels inconsequential – there’s a sexually awkward romance with a damaged but unnervingly confident girl (Gadon stands out), family issues back home ignored, the alien environment of a passive aggressively Christian university… but then midway through comes a WOW moment… a sustained single scene of sparring dialogue, a 10 minute verbal joust between our lead and the Dean… and it wears you down like all the wars in the world are being fought over a sunlit mahogany desk. It is a captivating achievement, beautifully acted, precisely scripted and leaves you breathless. Everything that happens around it is well rendered and engrossing (if less weighty than even I care to admit… at times almost to the point of cliche) and for all Schamus’ fine direction, Gadon’s starmaking turn and that scene this should really be rated far higher by me. I guess I just preferred the overwhelming scope and reaching ambition of McGregor’s riskier punt. With Indignation you get a faultless tale oft told (there seemed one of these mid century blazer, ties, prejudice and romance bildungsromans a week in the early 90s) but we are left with a film you admire rather than love.

6

Mary Harron directs Christian Bale, Willem Dafoe and Chloë Sevigny in this blackly satirical adaption of Bret Easton Ellis’ yuppie serial killer novel. 

Not a movie you can watch with mother. This amps up the underlying comedy (it has more laugh out loud moments than most pure genre pieces) and psychological paranoia of Ellis’ 80s masterpiece while only slightly toning down the violence – the pornographic sex, obscene consumption, “trendy” soundtrack and nihilist misogyny all pointedly remain. Disturbingly Bale has never quite inhabited a role ever so snugly again, his Patrick Bateman is a predatory fool struggling in a world of guileless idiots. While Dafoe’s cop sparkles… he might just be asking routine questions, might rightly suspect our vile antihero or might be a symptom of his own suppressed conscience… this supporting turn is an absolute hoot – each line delivery slamoning from a differing perspective to unnerve you and the protagonist expertly. A near perfect adaptation of an “unfilmable” (and often purposefully repulsive) modern classic, a forensic autopsy of the yuppie hedonism and sociopathic practice of the Reagan era.

9

 

Francis Ford Coppola directs Al Pacino, James Caan and Marlon Brando in this tale of a 1940s mafia family being torn apart by outside rivalries.

The Godfather is a sumptuous experience to just get lost in. Classical in pace, calmly inventive in shot composition, perfectly cast. Like deliberately dense HBO shows The Wire or Deadwood repeat viewings allow you to immerse yourself in hidden subplots and character arcs – this time I noticed what eventual payback is asked of everyone who is granted a favour in the iconic opening sequence – but you could equally concentrate on the background wives or  unrelated goons and see that no part has been left without some shift over the year and events of this epic. That deeply layered approach, full of an artisan’s care and craft, is what makes The Godfather one of the true greats. You get the feeling, more than any other entertainment, that every fibre, edit and word has been deliberated over by Coppola to perfection. It is a timeless masterpiece of cinematic art with not one hair out of place. Tremendous stuff.

10

Charles Vidor directs Rita Hayworth, Gene Kelly and Phil Silvers in this tale of a showgirl who becomes the toast of the town but loses touch with the club owner who fell for her.

A very bitty musical, where a hundred bright and daft ideas seem strung together haphazardly. Luckily old fashioned starpower carries you through the bumpiness of it all. Hayworth is gorgeous, Kelly gets to have a dance with his reflection and we glimpse the treat of Silver’s finding laughs in his only significant pre-Bilko role. So the plot is all over the shop and there’s only one memorable song, this still pleasantly kills an afternoon whenever the premium cast’s chemistry is allowed to fizz and pop together.

6