Reviews

I first watched this movie at 14 and I had forgotten most of it when I got hold of the DVD. From the start I could tell that the movie had an unusual angle, and that is was deconstructing the traditional fairy tale - but it went far beyond that and one of its qualities is that it never takes itself seriously. Deneuve is as stunning as ever; Perrin, Marais and especially Seyrig are most effective in supporting roles; the music is really gentle but highly effective; and the direction inspired. I think it is a film with far more to teach than critics would believe or allow. I am glad I found this film and saw it again. As for my kids, they felt it was far more advanced than anything kids see these days.

I first watched Le Corniaud when I was still a student in colonial Mozambique and found it roaringly funny - the scenes of sugar cubes placed in the gasoline tank (twice) with de Funes promptly getting his aides to suck out the gasoline; that marvellous camp shower scene; and Bourvil missing the plot altogether, unwittingly dispersing the contraband goods all over the place and always finding gorgeous women for company - it is all zany, unpretentious fun from a time long gone when fun could be politically incorrect without anyone giving it a second thought or being offended by it.

I have watched Le Corniaud twice since Mozambique and though the story is a bit patchy the leading duo is in top form, the Italian scenery is to die for, and it has such wonderful vignettes that I cannot help but laugh and laugh and laugh.

This is the finest example of soft core movie-making I have watched yet, with a great title song and melodious instrumental accompaniment that gives it all a sensuous and alluring ambiance, very effective slightly hazy photography that makes the bodies even more desirable, and a sweet/ingénue character in the superb shape of angelic-looking Sylvia Kristel who gives you an erection in no time. The upshot is that it makes for a spiritual and physical experience that requires you to take yourself in hand.

I had always thought that once you had watched one erotic or more explicit film you had basically watched them all but there is a persistent charm about Emmanuelle that keeps me retrieving it from the cupboard and falling in lust with Sylvia and her nubile female company over and over.

It is no longer the shocker that it was in 1974, and anyway I have never been able to watch the 105' French version... so this film has also been a kind of Holy Grail to me, and I am still hoping to watch the full original.

There is only one aspect that I regret about this otherwise marvellous erotic experience: That I never got to caress, pore over, and do Sylvia Kristel's ins and outs. But many a mark on my mattress, sofas, carpets, towels, and other items bore evidence in my youth of the indelibly sensual impression this film -- and Sylvia in particular -- left on me. May you enjoy it as much as I have!

Truffaut is one of my favourite directors and Jules et Jim one of my favourite films. As Jeanne Moreau recalls in an interview re her relationship with Truffaut at the time (they were briefly in love), this was a movie no one wanted to finance, that she had to help finance herself with money she had just scored from her latest film success (even her car was used to carry sets and other filming equipment) and which depended to a large extent on conditions on the ground and inspiration on the part of all, especially Truffaut, at any given time.

Thus, creation happened as inspiration came to Truffaut, Moreau and the crew and as Moreau remarks, the whole movie feels and flows like a song (she does sing the theme song, rather well at that too!).

Jules and Jim are star crossed friends. They have similar tastes and are ready to do anything for each other but being German and French they end up on different trenches in the war. They have imagined and then seen the bust of the ideal feminine beauty and and proceed to look for her in every nook and cranny, ultimately finding her in the shape of Moreau at a function.

Moreau is luminous in her role as Catherine that would have earned her permanent recognition if she had done nothing else. She is not just beautiful or alluring - she is Woman itself in all its complexities, falling in and out of love, holding on or letting go as is her wanton. There is a moment in the film when she does not get the attention of the two men because they are playing a game and immediately she demands attention and does not stop until she gets it.

Truffaut said on more than one occasion that his relationship with his mother (a rather distant one, reportedly) had had an impact on his relationship with other women but in Jules et Jim he is able to portray the female of the species with a depth and an understanding such as I had never witnessed before or have since.

Truffaut's direction is peerless in its acuity and sensitivity, and it is greatly aided by some of the loveliest photography ever. In addition, he extracts superlative performances from all three leads. Oskar Werner's performance is deft beyond words. Henri Serre reminds me of Daniel Day-Lewis with a steely performance to match.

As art lovers, they fall in love with a bust of a woman and look for her until they find Catherine. Is this Catherine an echo of Cathy in Wuthering Heights? Serre might be the Heathcliff while Werner sounds more like an undecided Hamlet knowing he cannot hang on to his Ophelia. The passions at work in the film more than match that of the Bronte novel's characters and, of course, that of the lukewarm Dane.

As lovers of the flesh, Jim has a child by Catherine and Jules her love - but it carries a price. The ending is a subtle mix of irony, sadness, insightful observation and even a touch of the clownish with an unsuitably dressed Jim walking away with the ashes of his beloved lover and friend... much as Hamlet might have walked away with a skull or two.

There is a lyrical quality to this film that I believe has never been surpassed. Judging from Woody Allen's "Vicky Cristina Barcelona" -- which borrows shamelessly from the ideas of "Jules et Jim" -- it will take real genius and a many months of sustained inspiration to surpass it. Given the current never ending supply of mass produced flicks, I doubt it will ever be matched let alone surpassed...

"Jules et Jim" is a most intelligent film and a privilege to watch. If it were down to me, it would score 11 out of 10.

Gérard Philippe is, as ever, great to watch and one is constantly reminded of what a great loss it was that he should have died of a heart attack in 1959 at the comparatively young age of 37.

Otherwise, it is a rather pointless and wishful movie that ultimately saps the musician/artist portrayed by Philippe of any sympathy the public might still have for him. The script appears to go all over the place and one is never sure whether the screenwriter actually sat down and thought it through or just typed it all in one sitting. As for the director, René Clair cannot have been too personally involved if he allowed such a shoddy job to be the result.

I love French culture, and French films and music in particular, but I am afraid this is a most disappointing specimen that -- for its sins -- even manages to suffer from pretentiousness.

I must make it clear that my views on this film have nothing to do with the reviews of Leonard Maltin or anyone else. The movie is so poor that even some great visual moments and Philippe's bravura performance cannot rescue it (though they earn it my very kind 6).

Well, dear fellow film lovers: If you ain't seen this one you ain't seen nuttin'! A few years ago, "Some like it hot" was rated the greatest comedy ever made and though I do not much care for -- or believe in -- such ratings the fact is that I was readily in agreement with this one and I continue to think so.

It is a film full of verve, sharp dialog, stinging one-liners, quick pace, imaginative chase sequences, and possibly the quickest-witted ending answer in the history of the cinema: Nobody's perfect! Yep, too true, nobody is perfect - but in this movie director Billy Wilder came as close to the Holy Grail of a perfectly directed movie as I can remember: Marilyn was at her most sensual and in the best acting form I ever saw from her; Tony Curtis, Jack Lemmon, Joe E. Brown and George Raft peerless; and the supporting cast of Nehemiah Persoff, George E. Stone, and many others was marvellous. Absolutely no weaknesses in the acting that I could detect.

Finally, a word about the outstanding photography in the "film noir" tradition yet never interferes with the smooth narrative.

What a movie! What a world that was without computers, cellphones, and all the other global technological and economic dictatorship gadgets that control our lives.

This is a tongue in cheek movie from the very outset with a voice-over that pokes fun at everything French and then produces a rather naif but very brave hero in Fanfan La Tulipe. Portrayed by the splendid Gerard Philippe, the dashing young man believes utterly in the fate curvaceous Lollobrigida foretells - notably that he will marry King Louis XV's daughter! Problem is, La Lollo soon find outs she too is in love with Fanfan...

Propelled by good sword fights, cavalcades, and other spirited action sequences the film moves at a brisk pace and with many comic moments. The direction is perhaps the weakest aspect but the film is so light and takes itself so un-seriously that I could not give those shortcomings a second thought. Look out for Noel Roquevert, a traditional heavy in French films, trying to steal La Lollo, making himself a nuisance, and feeding the script to the fortune teller that reads La Lollo's hand! And what a gem Marcel Herrand is as the megalomanous and lust-driven King Louis XV! That is not all: So many beautiful women in one film makes me wish I were in France and on the set back in 1952! The film may have come out that year but its verve, cheek, superb narration, immaculate photography and the memorable Gerard Philippe ensure that it remains modern and a pleasure to watch. I would not hesitate to recommend it to my grandchildren let alone to anyone who loves movies in general and swashbucklers in particular! Do see it!

There is something so lyrical about the tale of the doomed François portrayed by the great Jean Gabin that even in its hardest luck moments you feel you are watching poetry in motion.

In addition, Le Jour se Leve is a character study with all the contradictions that tend to go with pained souls like François' - except that there is a further depth that renders the film quite universal, a depth made of little moments in human relationships and the flaws that gently emerge but only renders the humans involved more endearing.

Still, all that glitters is not gold: the apparently pure Françoise has actually been bedded by M. Valentin (Berry); and the police are more interested in getting their man than in saving him.

The direction is precise and inspired, resorting to the then much used flashback technique but never allowing it to dominate the film.

The photography - well, it is gorgeous and it gives the film its expressionistic ambiance. Finally, Gabin - one of the greatest actors ever in one of his greatest roles. Need one say more?

The ending can be predicted from the moment François kills a visitor in his apartment but that aside it is a film full of cinematographic treasures, acting to gape at, and a quality of direction that is seldom seen these days. A must see for anyone who cares about movies.

This is an imaginative film that uses the much beaten flashback technique in an unusual way -- as part of a TV competition. The direction is first rate and clearly deserves the Oscar that it got. The acting is also very good, the youngest Jamal and Salim emerging as absolute gems. Main actor Dev Patel is excellent if a bit static at times, seeming constantly puzzled by events around him (then again, had I won 20 million rupees I'd probably look puzzled too! And with a beauty like that to share it with...) The photography is of a very high caliber indeed and it helps convey an image of India that reflects its physical beauty but also reveals many of its shortcomings, especially from a human standpoint.

The film laudably does not shy away from depicting the ways children are used, including maiming them so they are more valuable as potential beggars. I was not so sure about the brothers symbolizing the division between Muslims and Hindus but all credit to the film for raising it.

Slumdog Millionaire boasts some sound action sequences -- the one involving Salim killing Maman is particularly well done if hard to swallow -- and, in contrast, some fine comic relief moments that help make it a riveting flick throughout. I saw some reviews that compared it to "City of Angels" - Cidade de Deus -, in some cases calling it a copy of that Brazilian film. In truth, I think the point of contact between the two films is that they happen in the slums of their respective cities, otherwise they differ, principally in terms of character building and narrative technique.

Ultimately, I felt I had watched an engrossing and intelligent film that provided an exciting example of globalization and cooperation across cultural boundaries and which might well serve as a blueprint for the future of movie-making.

This is not a particularly well known movie among the anglophone crowd but it is definitely very advanced for its year of production, 1958. Yvette Maudet ("maudit" means accursed in French) as portrayed by Bardot is a constantly split personality that seems utterly unable to decide whether she wants the wealthy but old and not overly attractive Gabin or the young and handsome, but poor, Gaston. The way she enlists the services of Gabin as her lawyer is memorable and the scene so graphic and far ahead of its time that it was cut!

Curvaceous 22-year-old blonde Bardot is to die for but it is Gabin that carries the film with a masterly performance. Look out for Feuillere in role of Gabin's wife. She is apparently liberal and allows the affair to unfold and develop in the belief that her husband will eventually come back and she will remain in control of the marriage. Watch how she puts away her glasses when he comes into her bedroom so she looks more attractive to him... even though she knows she cannot compete with the much younger and voluptuous BB. Watch her loyalty to her husband as she sees him run after the mirage of young and callously carefree beauty, and she sees his business collapse and begin to affect her own life.

There is more: There is the extremely competent direction, an engrossing screenplay, and bewitching photography from director Autant-Lara and his team. It provides no happy end but this film has so much to offer that I can only encourage you to not miss it, dear reader.

Not being American and not being gay I had no idea what this film was about. I had not read any reviews of it and I went to see it because I am an unconditional fan of Sean Penn as an actor (not so much as a director). And I have to say that my intuition was correct - this is another superb performance from the man. From a physical standpoint, his depiction of Harvey Milk is uncontrived and extremely well observed. From the standpoint of character, merit must be shared with Director van Sant and the screen writing team but he certainly emerges as a plausible, life-like person with qualities such as generosity, love, caring for his neighbour (especially if gay), and a positive ambition for politics, along with the flaws of backstabbing and selfishness that any politician must have to survive. Most interesting of all, though, is the conflict that pits Penn and Josh Brolin in the role of fellow San Francisco Mayor's Office supervisor Dan White. They could not be more different: Milk is gay - a status largely unaccepted and even derided at the time - while White is heterosexual, married, and with children to boost his image as a more conventional politician. Yet, as the film wears on one realizes how much more unbalanced, vindictive, politically incorrect and ultimately murderous White is and how the unacceptably gay Milk is the type of person society really needs to grow because of his ability to listen, care, get involved, and share thoughts. Brolin and Franco ably support Penn with outstanding performances. Director van Sant reconstructs the San Francisco of the 1970's with great conviction and attention to detail (his depiction of the crowds in hippie and liberal attire is astonishing). Historic events surface unobtrusively, keeping the film chronologically situated and credible, in addition to providing much needed information that never interferes with the development of the central character and the action around him. In addition to excellent and never pervasive camera work, Van Sant uses the flashback technique in a far subtler way than I have seen in any film I can remember. Having watched the competition for the Academy Awards (apart from The Reader) I would confidently vote for Penn as best actor, van Sant as best director, and Milk as best picture.

I watched this film for the first time quite recently on France's TV Monde and found it exhilarating, years ahead of its time, and like Rififi something of a precursor in terms of heist movies. Roger Duchesne has a commanding presence -- and performance to boot -- as Bob the gambler but he is more than ably accompanied by the rest of the cast. This stylish, inveterate yet principled gambler has no luck at cards or, for that matter, at love but he cares for others and enjoys the admiration of the local top cop who really tries to prevent him coming to harm. When Lady Fortune finally smiles upon Bob it also makes him late for the heist, an event that precipitates the ending. This storyline is deceptively simple as there is much to enjoy in the building of the characters that surround him. The direction by Melville (who only added forenames Jean-Pierre later] is as impeccable as you will find and the photography quite stunning despite some amateurish touches. My feeling is that if you care for movies you should not miss this.

I have not read the F. Scott Fitzgerald literary piece that serves as the basis for this film but the idea is extremely interesting, and the clock by Mr Gateau that runs counter clockwise is a wonderful figment of the imagination that sets the whimsical tone for the whole exercise. David Fincher's direction comes across as very sound. There is no doubt he is one of the most competent directors around, especially from a technical viewpoint. He keeps continuity fluid, he extracts a superb performance from Brad Pitt and a delicately enticing one from Blanchett, and the photography is gorgeous, including memorable sunsets, Blanchett dancing against the skyline, winter shots and pleasing compositions throughout.

The attention to period detail is most impressive, filmed with loving memory and care, down to the flickering pictures of the late 19th century.

It is, however, the way that the film conveys the inflexible vagaries of time that impresses me most. With it stems the realization that the oft-stated wish that one should not get old certainly could do without the alternative of getting younger on the outside only. Sadly, all the cosmetic surgery of the current age appears to seek that very goal but, though great to look at, Brad and Kate are definitely worthy human beings capable of love for each other and for mankind.

There is nothing cosmetic about their feelings and values but perhaps one flaw is that Fincher needlessly adds 20 or so minutes emphasizing Brad's youthful good looks in particular, and perhaps the scene of Blanchett's accident could do with a little bit less repetitive explaining of the inexorability of fate. That said, I see those as minor foibles.

Benjamin Button brings to mind the figure of Forrest Gump as he wanders through the box of chocolates of life -- but he emerges as infinitely more intelligent and perceptive. There is something Christ-like about Benjamin that adds to the subtly religious experience the film offers going back to the pastor that gets Benjamin walking, the passing of the piano teacher, and the chanting at Queenie's funeral.

Curiously, as Benjamin Button's brain begins to age and become erratic and forgetful I was also reminded of Hal, the computer in 2001: A Space Odyssey, as his memory bank was dissembled; and Benjamin's last shot as a newborn but perishing baby brought to mind the starchild at the end of the Kubrick film.

All told, I liked it very much. The fact that it made my brain tick, that it ushered in so many possibilities, and that it has stayed with me pleases me no end. It stands as a rare item in this age of mass production and bended knee to technology. I hope it does well at the box office and receives the plaudits it deserves from critics, the Academy and the rest of it. Highly recommended!

I am afraid I am borrowing views expressed in some of the other crits: This film borrows extensively from classics as The Godfather, The French Connection, Scarface and even Apocalypse Now but it comes nowhere near any of them. The acting is not bad but I have a problem with the development of the central character, Frank Lucas. He appears to have some principles but quickly embarks on the narcotics trade, cares not who else it might affect, and does not think twice about executing a competitor in public. Lucas kissing his brother on the mouth and later beating him up smacked of The Godfather Part II relationship between Pacino and Cazale but it did not come across anywhere near as viscerally. In the end, just so that he does not spend the rest of his life in jail he is willing and reptilian enough to turn in all those that he bribed and that served him. Perhaps his flaws are only human but I care more for a mad bugger like Tony Montana in Scarface than for this cold-hearted kingpin that uses national institutions such as the US Army for personal gain and should face high treason but instead skulks away with a reduced jail term as if that were ennobling and worthy of 157 minutes of film. Russell Crowe comes across more credibly as a copper who places job before family but real life has its ironies and I did not think a honest man like him would become a defense lawyer whose first client would be... Frank Lucas. Ridley Scott's direction lacks verve and inventiveness and it rambles here and there, especially when Lucas' family comes into the picture. The period detail is adequate though I have seen better. The cinematography is of tolerable quality (I have watched more polished TV productions). Finally, the screenplay is a patchwork of clichés I would not have wanted my name associated with. This is a big production movie with big stars to match with the aim of doing well at the box office, and I am sorry I paid hard earned money for this product thereby indirectly helping maintain this industry that treats spectators like so many sheep. American Gangster is mediocre film-making, its moral values are dire, and the lesson I gleaned was an old one: As long as you have money and connections you can get away with murder. I doubt that knowledge makes me a better man but it sure as hell renders me fitter for survival. Is that what I want out of life, though? NO!

One thing I like about films directed by Clint Eastwood is their consistent attempt to depict the shattered American Dream. In this case, the shattered dream is that of justice in the LA of the late 20s and early 30s. Clearly, the dream has suffered at the hands of an LAPD and a judicial system that fall far short of normal requirements, even for that time.

Eastwood tells the story well but it is difficult to swallow the fact that the changeling had a mother of his own and yet he was willing to impersonate young Walter and so pass off as Christine Collins' son. I thought at first that it might be because he had run away from harm but, alas, that was not the case. Sadly, that apparently minor detail opens a massive credibility gap in the film's narrative.

That aside, praise must go to the effective direction, the generally sound acting, above all to the scrupulous attention to period detail, and the awesome photography. In terms of acting, the duplicitous nature of the murderer is superbly conveyed by Jason Harner but there is one serious minus: Angelina is too "jolie" and too stereotyped, a typical beauty down to her hat and clothing with the photography clearly emphasizing that beauty in its time capsule.

As the movie progressed I found it hard to detect any real emotion in Jolie. Perhaps Estwood wanted to extract a restrained approach from her but I just do not think it works. As I see it, that is a central weakness in the film but when all is said and done, and in spite of those drawbacks, Changeling is a film well worth seeing especially because Eastwood refuses to provide an easy remedy to a very difficult situation and ultimately to paper over yet another crack in the American dream.

Eastwood's honesty I value most of all: He does not shirk the usefulness of the death penalty to rid society of elements clearly unfit to live in it and, most importantly, unable to admit their evil deeds.

I must begin by admitting my headlong love for Truffaut's work. As connoisseur ratings go, this might not be his best film (Jules et Jim, Argent de Poche, Le Dernier Metro, Baisers Volés, Tirez sur le Pianiste, and Les 400 Coups are all at least as good and possibly better) but there is just so much life, tongue in cheek, unbridled pleasure in directing and in treating life as art, and the acting is so deceptively simple that I have to say this is probably my most favourite film by one of my most favourite directors. The initial sequence with the young dilettante's flatulent and cursing father kicking her rugby style sets the tone for the rest of the film, consistently pitting the stupidity of the male against the instinctive and openly unscrupulous intelligence of the leading female (there is hope yet in the typist but she is not the one all the men fall in love with...) Glorious comic touches sprinkle the film but if I had to select the cherry on this cake that would be the sequence where Denner, the rat exterminator, is waiting for Bernadette to come back from her visit to the singer. Look at how he tries to establish where the racing cars are that he hears but cannot see on the open road! Oh you must see this!

From the first frame of a tapestry landscape, the first note of the song, Thee I love, sung by Pat Boone, to the magnificent photography and superlative acting by absolutely everyone, even the most tertiary of actors, Friendly Persuasion persuades you to watch in awe. It is an out and out masterpiece. The screenplay could not be improved (pity its author could not have not his name on the credits thanks to Senator McCarthy) and the dialog does not come any livelier or more balanced. Love is conveyed throughout in gentle touches or then in a truly volcanic display by Mattie, the daughter of the Quaker couple (Cooper and Maguire). There are comic touches throughout, with the goose, Sam, and the horses Rover and Lady in top form... but it is the ever nearer and increasingly inevitable Civil War that gives the film its perceptive, sincere and humane core. Cooper acts, as ever, with considerable restraint, Maguire likewise. They are one of the best and most convincing married couples I have ever seen on the screen, certainly more than a match for Tracy and Hepburn. A young Perkins also provides a highly creditable performance but if I were to elect one aspect as perfection itself, then that aspect would be William Wyler's direction. I urge you to see this film: I have derived ever greater pleasure from it every time I have watched it.

I remember my father advising me to see Peyton Place in the early 1970's. I was in South Africa at the time and it was showing at a nearby flea pit that repeated it throughout the day and I ended up watching it twice. The story is credible, the dialog intelligent and modern, and the acting of a very high order indeed - even the usually turgid Lana Turner manages an arresting performance. No wonder it has been a source of so much imitation, especially in terms of TV soap operas.

The action begins in 1941 in a world inexorably sliding into war, and its subtle but indelible effect on beautiful, small town Peyton Place becomes all too perceptible. Arthur Kennedy is the town skunk, ably seconded by the town gossip monger, but it is inspiring to see so many decent people prepared to put their life styles and reputations on the line to help others. It is probably a world that does not exist any more and will exist less and less - but it fills me with hope about mankind whenever I trot it out and watch it again. I like the soundtrack, quiet but imposing in an almost pastoral way. The direction by Mark Robson is spellbinding, to me his best work even though Guns of Navarone was even more exciting and no less good fun. The court sequence is a particular highlight. See it!

Body of Lies is without doubt an above average film. Direction is assured and the performances of di Crapio, Crowe and -- in particular -- Strong are easily worth the cost of admission. I would have preferred a somewhat less gory rendition though I accept that the Middle East is a violent place and the action on the screen had to reflect it to look credible. I accept that but I am still not convinced by the Deus ex machina when Ferris was about to cash in his chips at the hands of the nefarious al-Saleem. Ultimately, I doubt very much that the CIA would just let one of its agents roaming freely and independently about the Middle East at the end of the movie. It would just pose too many State and other security risks. The movie also lacks a consistent female presence. Aisha is a pleasantly looking and story-convenient love interest for di Caprio but even she is not on the screen for more than about 20 min in the whole flick... and her performance is largely anonymous. The action sequences are effective, as is usually the case with flicks directed by Ridley Scott, but car and chopper chases have become so common that it is difficult for me to watch them without a sense of dreariness at all the deja vu.

Back in 1956 this must have been a very daring flick indeed. Of course it has dated and today it packs less of a punch but it still remains a very sincere film anchored by a superb James Mason performance. Walter Matthau is similarly top rate though in a smaller and less flashy role. The direction is absolutely mesmerizing and I only felt slightly uneasy about the psychiatric approach of the day and the flashing red screen reflecting Mason's mental disintegration which was so in fashion in films of the time.

Even so, it was not enough to spoil the pleasure afforded by the many good aspects in this movie that I found quite riveting and intelligent for the most part. The bit where Mason snips the phone cord is as frightening as it is memorable, to me the highpoint of a honest yet never predictable work.

Banal intro; banal music; stylized and uninvolving action sequences; no real mean villain; and several lost threads in the story. Daniel Craig is still very good, as is Judy Dench, but this is a Bond movie breaking with many traditions. Bond breaks from his shaken, not stirred Martini, from dropping his name, and from a sense of humor (though the sequence where he picks Mathis' wallet is exceptional in terms of dark comedy). As anyone will tell you revenge is pointless -- nor can it be anything else in a Bond movie or the censors will wield the big scissors -- so in the end this is also a pointless movie and one that feels oddly dishonest. Water and oil really do not mix, especially in the desert.

If I had to say what was the most perfectly constructed film I ever saw my choice would probably be "Laura" even though as films noir go I am just as fond of "Out of the Past" and, especially, "The Third Man." A superb musical piece sets the mood for this delicate, witty and yet cruel film. The photography is 20th Century Fox at its best. This is no mean piece of praise because at the time it was the studio best known for quality photography. Handsome Dana Andrews is the manly, focused and totally credible Detective McPherson that becomes obsessed with Laura Hunt's case; Clifton Webb is refined evil incarnate in the shape of Waldo Lydecker, also obsessed with Laura but for different reasons, his diction simultaneously something to savor and repel; Vincent Price lays claim to one of his best roles outside of horror movies; Judith Anderson is superb. Her short conversation with Laura about how she could kill adds an unsuspected dimension to her seemingly easy-going and sweet character; and, finally, gorgeous Gene Tierney in her most memorable role, absolutely to die for yet with very earthly and even selfish interests. Otto Preminger's impeccable direction carries many touches of genius, including a neat finale à la Hitchcock. The screenplay is superlative; the storyline is flawless; the physical settings are extremely well defined; and I could not detect any holes anywhere after some 10 viewings. The dialog zings constantly. I feel that I am underrating "Laura" by awarding it a 10: It deserves to rank among the greatest films of all time.

As awesome as the acting is, especially on the part of Daniel Day-Lewis, I came away wondering why I had lost more than two hours of my valuable time watching a film about two souls so cynical and deceitful that they could not possibly add anything to my life or my values as a human being. The last quarter of the movie was also ponderous and turgid. The Oscar given to Day-Lewis was well deserved and the first hour of the film was intense and eminently watchable though the Day-Lewis character was quite repellent from the outset. Once that hour was up the film tragically went one-way downhill, which did not say much for the quality of direction. Photography? Again, quite splendid in the first half, then flopped like the rest of the film. Was Day-Lewis the ultimate incarnation of Satan and a symbol of savage capitalism?

Rumor has it that until this film Brazilian cinema tended to portray criminals as endearing types cleverer than police. "Elite Squad" pulls no punches: Cops can be as corrupt as criminals. Such candor has seldom been seen since "Serpico" in long gone 1974. Sadly, profit-seeking films increasingly replace human beings with cost-cutting special effects in tune with our age of technological brainwashing. At least in "Elite Squad" human beings still feel human, however unpleasant they might be. The central figure is Captain Nascimento who has no qualms about torturing or killing criminals and corrupt cops are especially not safe from him. He sees himself as the ideal leader but he is disintegrating under stress and has a glorified vision of his powers which he cannot quite reproduce with his wife at home. Human rights groups will have a field day listing all the violations - but survival is crucial in the nether world, be it Rio or any other place on the planet. Despite its violence and amorality this film has highly effective moments of comic relief. I would like to praise the excellent direction by José Padilha and the generally superb acting, with special plaudits for Wagner Moura, Caio Junqueira and Andre Ramiro in the central roles.