Aki Kaurismäki directs Alma Pöysti, Jussi Vatanen and Janne Hyytiäinen in this Finnish arthouse flick about a drunk and a zero hour contract worker who can’t seem to get their mutual attraction to click.
Deadpan, snail paced, depressing frustrations… both human nature and caustic fate. So probably the best and definitely the most beautiful romcom of the decade so far. Alma Pöysti is stunning in a shopworn kinda way and the dog acting here is even better than Anatomy Of A Fall’s breakout canine star. One point knocked off for pretending The Dead Don’t Die is an enjoyable cinematic experience.
William Oldroyd directs Thomasin McKenzie, Shea Whigham and Anne Hathaway in this period drama where a lonely boy’s prison clerk starts a dangerous infatuation with the hot new female psychiatrist.
Have been looking forward to the next William Olyroyd after the eye catching Lady Macbeth. This is full of cheeky wanks, ambiguous seductions and leery everyday boredom. All the name acts put in an enthusiastic shift, Whigman’s drunk abusive father has the most well written bit. The costume design by Olga Mill is particularly sensuous and outstanding. And yet a six day week, a few late shifts and I couldn’t keep my eyes open for the finale. Natalie briefed me after I reawakened the last two minutes before the end credits.
John Frankenheimer directs Burt Lancaster, Paul Scofield and Jeanne Moreau in this wartime thriller where a resistance saboteur must risk the lives of his men to save a train full of modern masterpieces as the Nazis retreat from Paris.
Exaggerated from a true story and all the better for it. One of the last big Black And White releases of the Hollywood era and it looks beautiful. Steam engines racing and crashing for reals. Lancaster, the bureaucrat of action, reluctantly pulling out every con and bunging every wrench into the works to stop a train whose cargo he does not care about. Scofield, superb as the blinkered Nazi whose mission becomes both personal and obsessive. A little bit of Moreau – for the ladies, for the sexiness, to let us all know how futile all this boy-ish fanaticism is. Even though most of this movie never travels more than 50 miles outside of the Parisian city limits it is exciting and expansive. One of those “they don’t make em like this anymore” marvels. The ending feels like the first time a main character walks away from their victory utterly disgusted by the cost of the action, dejected from their old way of life. It is a conclusion that would become a staple of manly character arcs through the Seventies.
John Boorman directs Jon Voight, Burt Reynolds and Ned Beatty in this adventure thriller where a group of weekend kayakers find themselves fighting for their lives.
On the year of its release Deliverance was the fifth highest grossing film at the American box office. Wow! I’ll just let that sink in. Last year, the movie to reach that milestone was Jurassic World Dominion. Two moments from the seminal film reached into the western world’s shared psyche and became permanent parts of the cultural lexicon: the phrase “squeal like a pig” and the duel of the banjos. This year it’s “Hi Barbie” and… err… A nightmarish, adult movie that preys on male fears. One that has deeper things to say about the fragility of the environment and just how thin the line is between civilisation and insect politics which we all walk. The set pieces are gruelling, the location work is almost timeless. And there are no heroes. OK… so I’ve hidden the fact that Oppenheimer will occupy the same ranking in this year’s box office charts to make a point. But Oppenheimer for all its strengths is a movie driven by a well defined protagonist. Deliverance is motored by failure, fuck up and mistrust. Nobody achieves anything, everybody leaves shattered.
Rowdy Herrington directs Patrick Swayze, Ben Gazzara and Kelly Lynch in this action movie where a star bouncer cleans up a dive nightclub and then goes after the corrupt town patriarch.
The epitome of a guilty pleasure in that it really is a bad movie, with awful script choices and minimal reality yet it proves always Friday night pleasurable and not solely for reasons of camp or schadenfreude. Swayze is full of zen, one beat per minute swagger. His body, which is often shirtless, is undeniably sexy. He offers a different action tonality than the pure muscle of an early Arnie, van Damme or Stallone but shies away from the glib zaniness of Gibson, Willis or later Arnie. There is nothing sophisticated about Swayze – he is a body, a pretty face, a big hairdo, a discipline, a blank philosophy, a soul within an action. It is no surprise his best on-screen chemistry was when he handed over his (until then) unique mantle to Keanu in Point Break. The movie is sleek but erratic. It forgets its core hook after the bar is conquered and the girl is won. Gazzara makes for strange but always enjoyable villain. I wouldn’t say he goes at the role with relish but his half baked nastiness proves a decent counterweight to Swayze’s more soulful hero. The third act goes off the rails with spectacular trailer moments and essentially remakes Shane with muscle cars and titties. The big fight between Swayze and a chickensweat Jack Palance wannabe is homoerotic as fuck. “I used to fuck guys like you in prison.” In your dreams, pal. Say goodbye to your throat.
Aaron Blaise and Robert Walker direct Joaquin Phoenix, Jeremy Suarez and Rick Moranis in this Disney animated adventure comedy where a Native American teen is turned into a bear.
Beautiful backgrounds but overly worthy and maudlin. The Disney doldrums start to take their toll. Not enough comedy Canuck moose action.
Farhad Safinia directs Mel Gibson, Sean Penn and Eddie Marsan in this historical drama about the creation of the Oxford English Dictionary and the murderous inmate who became a valuable if controversial contributor.
A really rich ensemble, good period location work yet just seems to be missing something binding in the direction. Maybe Rob Reiner, Frank Darabont or even Mel might have made this fascinating story sing more sweetly. Penn’s performance is a bit all over the shop but Mel is dialled back and quite warmly eccentric. A near miss.
Fireworks 7 / Puce Moment 5 / Eaux D’Artifice 6 / Inaugaration of the Pleasure Dome 7 / Scorpio Rising 6
Flies are unzipped and fireworks flop out. Sailors duff you up. Dresses shimmer in a Busby Berkley chorus number. Water ejaculates over an ornate garden. Freaky satanic loops excised out from a Powell & Pressberger fantasy. Biker prep. Mustard arse. James Dean is Jesus is Hitler. Let it wash over you, don’t think on it too hard. Unmatched in the soundtrack selections. Very transgressive but kinda scuzzy cute.
Albert Pyun directs Jean-Claude van Damme, Vincent Klyn and Deborah Richter in this low budget sci-fi where a man takes on a band of post-apocalyptic thugs who have kidnapped a cyborg with vital information in her head.
I never thought I’d type these words – too nasty, too bleak, too violent. Just grim. Cheaply filmed across scrubland and abandoned buildings, the script and props were repurposed from the Masters Of the Universe sequel Cannon couldn’t afford to make. It is 50% incoherent flashbacks, 50% running and kicking to no objective, and a whole lot of grunting. So much grunting.
Hirokazu Kore-eda directs Masaharu Fukuyama, Lily Franky and Machiko Ono in this Japanese drama where two families learn that their sons were swapped as newborns in the hospital and thus need to decide whether to re-swap their children back before they grow oldenough to comprehend.
Gentle drama full of spacious room for rather touching character work from all involved. The ultimate message is pretty predictable but it’s hard not to spiral off into all the considerations and emotions the dilemma creates. Will leave you hungry for Japanese food.
Bobby Carroll's Movie Diary 