Reviews

A documentary on the acclaimed theatre and film director Orson Welles, combining clips from his movies with interview footage and commentaries from many collaborators.

This film, which was shown theatrically at various festivals and I caught at my local arts cinema, is informative, well made and provides real insight into Welles' philosophy. This is achieved partly through the terrific footage of Welles himself but also by devoting time to the circumstances of his career. There are the expected plaudits from filmmakers such as Peter Bogdanovich (who knew him very well), Paul Mazursky, and Steven Spielberg, but also firsthand experiences from Norman Lloyd (one of the original Mercury Theatre players and I believe the last one still living), Charlton Heston (Touch Of Evil), Anthony Perkins and Jeanne Moreau (The Trial), as well as Oja Kodar whom Welles lived with for the last twenty years of his life. There are also key contributions from Welles' biographer Simon Callow, who champions the 1966 Chimes At Midnight (and not Citizen Kane) as his masterpiece, as well as noted sound designer/editor Walter Murch. In my view Welles was clearly a fine actor and a brilliant filmmaker, whose intelligence, innovation and gift for his craft is indisputable, but what's more fascinating for me is the career path he took. Many label him a failure; a prodigious talent who peaked in his twenties and then threw it all away. He suffered many indignities, particularly from studio bosses, the Hearst press, critics and bankers throughout his life (New Yorker writer Pauline Kael did a particularly vicious and unfair hatchet job on him in 1971), and when he died in 1985 aged seventy there was muted recognition of his achievements. Conversely I find his biography heroic and trailblazing. Far from getting stuck in Hollywood making formulaic costume dramas, he lived a far richer and more artistically rewarding life. He might have had regrets, when he ran out of money or had to resort to TV shows to retain his status, but all through his life he did great work, often in difficult circumstances where others would give up, and always pushing, learning, adapting, embracing new ideas. This is the true measure of any artist; not how lucrative their work is or how famous they become, and this is why he is held in such regard by so many people who have experienced the frustrations of trying to be a filmmaker with vision and integrity. The movie also illustrates Welles' inestimable influence on cinema, with clips from films as diverse as Woody Allen's Radio Days and Tim Burton's Ed Wood, and some comic interludes, notably a dead-on impression of the great man by John Candy. It's also a real treat for fans of Welles, with footage from some of his lesser known work (such as 1974's F For Fake), and several unfinished projects like his endless production of Don Quixote (a cursed film if ever there was, which Terry Gilliam also tried and failed for years to make). Was Orson Welles a genius ? A mad egocentric ? A pioneer so far ahead of his time ? A charlatan masquerading as an artist ? I think of him as simply a brilliant film director, who poured his soul and originality into his work. To quote Marlene Dietrich, he was some kind of a man.

When bandits threaten to steal the harvest of a poor Mexican village, the farmers resolve to hire gunmen to defend them. But how will they persuade them to help, and can they trust them to honour the agreement ?

I reckon this is probably my favourite American western (though Rio Bravo, made at the same time, is almost as good) - it's just solid rip-roaring fun from start to finish, features the greatest cast of cowboys ever assembled, is a brilliant story filled with terrific themes and fascinating archetypes and is beautifully shot, cut and scored throughout. Every boy looking for heroes, role models, men to aspire to be like, should watch it, but at the same time it's sad, thoughtful, tender, even pessimistic. Unlike many westerns it never glorifies violence, celebrates greed, demonises ethnic groups, or deals in clichés. It's as stylish a movie as you could find, yet the drama plays as powerfully as any highbrow play. The gunslingers all have their own reasons for being there, but few are altruistic or noble, and the villagers tolerate their presence purely for services rendered. When Chico (Buchholz) tries to crow, the others don't spare him their bitter wisdom, and when the kids attempt to lionise O'Reilly (Bronson) at the cost of their fathers, he quickly puts them in their place. The main theme of redemption is almost existential; Calvera's dying words expressing his incomprehension as to why they would risk their lives for such scant reward. And yet it's joyous fun throughout, filled with funny dialogue (Bronson's first line is for my money the best opener in cinema), amusing scenes (McQueen's dinner table face pulling), great shootouts and chases, an absolutely barnstorming score by Elmer Bernstein (arguably his best in a career filled with classics) and gorgeous desert locations in Morelos State. But perhaps its greatest asset is its fantastic cast; everybody is great, right down to the lowest part - they look mythic, they deliver fabulous performances, they feel authentic and when they suffer we are truly moved. Very few actors don't look foolish with wide brimmed hats, gun belts and spurs, yet everyone here is iconic. Brynner is perhaps the greatest man-in-black cowboy in all cinema (ironically he was Russian), Wallach is simply terrific as the shrewd calculating bandito, McQueen is the coolest sidekick in any western ("So far so good !"), Bronson and Coburn are the epitome of tough guys and even Buchholz (who was German) is somehow wrong-but-right as the loudmouthed Chico. The film's writing credits are a little controversial - the original script was by Walter Bernstein, then largely rewritten by Walter Newman (neither of whom were credited for different reasons) and adapted by William Roberts. Newman is acknowledged as the main author, although of course the movie is almost a straight remake of Akira Kurosawa's 1954 classic Shichinin No Samurai / Seven Samurai, with only the setting changed. It's a very rare example of a cross-cultural remake which is every bit as good as the original. Beautifully shot from start to finish by the great cinematographer Charles Lang (The Uninvited, How The West Was Won, Wait Until Dark), originally this was neither popular nor acclaimed in the US but has deservedly become recognised as one of the greatest westerns of all time.

Gray and Zach's parents send them on a holiday to dinosaur theme park Jurassic World, where their Aunt Claire is a senior official. Once there however a top secret new exhibit - the Indominus Rex - breaks out of its enclosure and starts wreaking havoc. It's up to Aunt Claire and park ranger Owen to save the kids.

This is the third sequel to Steven Spielberg's classic 1992 monster movie and, like all sequels, covers the same ground as the original, but is likable, well made, well acted, exciting, and has a good balance of action, scares and laughs. Visually, it's beautiful to look at, with fabulous sets by Ed Verreaux and excellent visual effects by Tim Alexander and Glen McIntosh. The genetically modified Indominus Rex is nice and scary but just a T-Rex variant, but for dinosaur fans there are some great creatures on show, such as the huge aquatic Mosasaur, the spiky-armour club-tailed Ankylosaurus, an epic Pteranodon flying attack sequence and those perennial Jurassic film favourites the Velociraptors. The human cast are equally good, with Howard doing a terrific transformation from soulless corporate businesswoman into breathless, ripped-clothes, monster-fighting Sheena Queen Of The Jungle, Pratt a solid square-jawed traditional macho hero, and D'Onofrio stealing the show as the sneaky bad guy with the military agenda and a great cheesy last speech. My only problem with the film is the too-busy script, which has so many threads (the boys' divorcing parents, the brothers bonding theme, Claire and Owen's old romance, Claire's career aspirations, Masrani's misguided philanthropy, the gene-splicing corporate espionage, the raptor training, the military asset angle, the let's-eat-the-tourists threat, the control room takeover, several others); once it settles down into the main rescue the kids and save the day story, it's much more focused and dramatic. The golden rule in most things is keep it simple, and movie scripts are no exception. But all in all a good Saturday afternoon creature feature, with a solid cast and thrills aplenty. Featuring yet another excellent score by the prolific Michael Giacchino - the wordless scene where Owen and Claire come across the dying Apatosaurus is perhaps the best in the movie - this is good blockbuster monster fun.

Casey Newton lives in Cape Canaveral with her Dad and little brother. After a run-in with the law she comes into possession of a mysterious badge, which transports her to a fabulous futureworld. But where did it come from, and why was she chosen to receive it ?

This Disney sci-fi thriller is a beautifully made, highly original, hugely entertaining film which is consistently gorgeous to look at but also a wonderful story with great characters and terrific themes. What I like best about it I think is its driving sense of optimism and its faith that humanity can overcome any problem once we realise that our destiny lies in our hands. Frank and Nix represent opposite sides of this philosophy - one disgruntled but never giving up hope, the other pragmatic and visionary but resigned to humanity's shallow indifference. The film explores these ideas through rich motifs - the story of the two wolves, the contrast of Frank's youth in the sixties with Casey's in the twenty-first century, the whole Paris Edison/Tesla sequence, Frank and Nix's literal clash of interests. It's a story about not giving up, and not accepting the never-ending tide of bad news the media loves to spoon-feed us all, and it's joyous, exciting, scary and terrific. Clooney and Laurie are both excellent, but it's really Robertson and Cassidy as the kids who hold the picture and who the story is really all about. Twelve-year-old Cassidy in particular steals it, continuing the rich tradition of cinematic robot heroes (see also Aliens, A.I. Artificial Intelligence or I, Robot) who encompass humanity's best qualities. I also love MacCaull's brief role as cheesy android villain Dave Clark - his toothy smile alone is worth catching the movie for. There is a fantastic bombastic string score by Michael Giacchino, which surges through the whole picture - he is rapidly becoming the John Williams of modern cinema - upping the dramatic stakes, and adding warmth and tension. Equally wonderful is Scott Chambliss' fabulous production design, which runs a gamut of imagination from the multi-layered swimming pools and gliding transportation hubs of Tomorrowland to the charmingly kitschy cult movie memorabilia shop in which Casey first encounters the enemy agents. A sensational achievement for Bird (the creator of animated classics The Incredibles and Ratatouille), and a fabulous family movie which reminds us that it's okay to have hope, encourage creativity and strive to make the world a better place. Released here in the UK as Tomorrowland: A World Beyond.

Bilbo Baggins, Gandalf the wizard and the band of dwarfs continue their quest to find a secret door to the Lonely Mountain and reclaim their gold. But Smaug the Dragon has no intention of giving up his glittering cache …

The second movie in the Hobbit trilogy has the classic The Empire Strikes Back flaw - it doesn't have a beginning or an ending - but despite this, it is fantastic entertainment and arguably even better than its predecessor. It shares some of the first movie's problems, primarily that it's too long, but it is less excessive and feels much closer to the novel, both in narrative and atmosphere. Where it adds new characters, such as the elf warrior Tauriel and the returning Legolas (Bloom reprising his star turn from the Lord Of The Rings movies), for the most part they feel natural and add a richness to Bilbo's quest, although there is an unnecessary subplot to link this story back to the earlier film trilogy. As ever though, the realisation of these environments is simply irresistible, with gorgeous sets, paintings, props, design and music always a feast for the eyes and ears. The creepy, soul-sucking, spider-infested Mirkwood and the tired, ramshackle, built-on-stilts Laketown are highlights in a film filled with visual delights. The whole escape-in-the-barrels sequence - one of the best bits from the book - is brilliantly realised, with an eye-popping ten-minute action sequence as our heroes hurl down the rapids, confronted by perils on all sides; one of the best chase scenes I've seen for years. If I have one minor complaint though, it's in the characterisation of Smaug himself; visually he is wonderful, terrifying and humorous in equal measure, but his scenes drag on too long. In the book he is horror personified - the monster who can smell an invisible burglar a mile away - but in the movie he talks far too much and skitters dangerously close to becoming a buffoon, as for all his powers he constantly misses, fumbles and goes the wrong way. Like The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, my personal view is that this film could be much more fun, action-packed and scarier with a little judicious pruning. This doesn't however detract from what is simply a fabulous adventure movie from beginning to end. Brilliantly photographed throughout by Andrew Lesnie, who sadly passed away recently, and along with fellow Australian Dean Semler created many of the most memorable images of Antipodean cinema. Followed in 2014 by the concluding part of the trilogy, The Battle Of The Five Armies.

Pete Aron is a Formula One driver who crashes at the Monaco Grand Prix, wrecking his race and nearly killing his teammate. Thrown out of the team, it looks like his motorsport career might be over until he is offered a new contract from an unlikely source ...

Formula One is the sport I follow, and I am attracted to it for the same reasons as most people I guess, primarily the vicarious thrill of seeing someone drive as dizzying speeds. This movie does a good job of exploring why that holds such fascination for both drivers and fans alike, and contrasts it with the bloodthirsty gawkers and the dog-eat-dog tactics of the teams. The racing sequences are simply outstanding, with amazing shots from the cars' points of view and incredible footage of the actors racing at high speed (Garner did a lot of his own driving). Shot in Super Panavision 70 with spherical lenses and a 2.20:1 aspect ratio by Lionel Lindon, and often using multiple images and intricate cut wipes, these scenes burst across the screen and are every bit as thrilling as a real F1 race. Where the movie literally slows down however is in the inter-race intrigue, which, while nicely played by the talented cast, sometimes descends into soap opera - the heel sleeping with another man's wife, the burned-out former champion who doesn't know why he still does it, the injured driver with an axe to grind, the young kid on top of the world. The people are worth caring about but their personal lives are too clichéd and the ending is perhaps telegraphed too clearly. Frankenheimer's attention to detail is excellent, and the cars are wonderful, but the script could use some tuning and the movie some pruning. From an F1 history buff's perspective however, the movie is nirvana - it mixes some actual footage from the 1966 season, substitutes real racing drivers for the actors/stuntmen, (notably the unrelated Phil Hill and Graham Hill) and features such classic circuits as Brands Hatch, Spa (the old ten-mile country circuit), Monaco, Monza, Watkins Glen and Zandvoort. In the end there is a lot to enjoy in this movie - the racing is fabulous, the cast is terrific, the sixties sensibility is fun, the direction is top-notch and the photography is breathtaking. It's also a potent reminder however of how appallingly dangerous motorsport was in this period of almost no safety standards, prior to the work of people like Jackie Stewart, Niki Lauda and Sid Watkins, and even in the modern era the danger in F1 is still terribly real, epitomised by Jules Bianchi's tragic crash at Suzuka in 2014. This is a great old racing flick and one which would make an excellent double bill with the near-plot less 1971 Lee H. Katzin / Steve McQueen film Le Mans.

Sam Spade and Miles Archer run a private detective agency in San Francisco, and are hired by a Miss Wonderly to find her sister, who has eloped with a man named Thursby. That night both Miles and Thursby are shot in separate incidents, Wonderly disappears and Sam is the police's chief suspect for both murders. Who killed them, and why ?

Like only a handful of other movies, it's hard to overestimate The Maltese Falcon's huge influence on the crime genre in specific and cinema in general. Of course there are films which preceded it about private eyes, slippery femme fatales, shifty suspects and twisting plot lines. It's not even the original screen adaptation of Dashiel Hammett's classic 1930 novel (Roy Del Ruth first filmed it in 1931, and it was remade again in 1936 as Satan Met A Lady). This version however combines an astonishingly assured performance by Bogart with an outstanding supporting cast, a brilliant head-scratching script by Huston and superb direction to create perhaps the definitive crime picture, and paved the way for many memorable film noir and gangster classics to follow. It's also important to note the small scale of the film - Bogart and Huston were well respected as a supporting actor and writer respectively, but it was Huston's debut as a director (arguably one of the best ever) and it made Bogart a huge star and cemented his reputation as a hard-boiled tough guy. The screenplay is very faithful to Hammett's riveting book, with only minimal abridging for such a deliciously deceiving story, and as with all the best crime fiction it's really all about the people, and what drives their darker personas. Bogart plays a fabulous thin line between good guy, world-weary cynic and dangerous bluffer as he plays off everyone out to chisel him, on both sides of the law. He is aided by one of the most memorable support casts I've ever come across; Astor is sensational as the serial liar/lover who's constructed so many false identities she's not sure of anything anymore, Lorre is superb as the dapper Levantine Mr Joel Cairo, all perfumed accessories and aloof mannerisms, Greenstreet is unforgettable as the corpulently wily Kasper Gutman ("By Gad sir, you are a character."), and arguably best of all is Cook as the psychotic gunsel Wilmer, who seems constantly poised to explode but instead suffers every indignity at the hands of Spade. The players bring Hammett's rich and strange characters to vivid life with such craft and intensity it's almost impossible to imagine anybody else portraying them. The rumpled detective has become such a staple of books and movies it's easy to forget its origins, but Bogart here will always be the definitive private eye. Crisply photographed by Arthur Edeson (who also shot Frankenstein and Casablanca), this is an unmissable forties classic and one of Huston's best movies. It's also a truly amazing book you must read, although in my view two of Hammett's other novels, Red Harvest and The Glass Key, are equally sensational. Trivia - the one-shot-no-lines-die-on-the-sofa scene-stealing character of Captain Jacoby is played by the great Walter Huston, the director's father.

In the late twenty-first century, Douglas Quaid works a menial job constructing security robots. Seeking excitement, he goes to Rekall, a company selling fake memory implants. Suddenly he is thrust into an espionage adventure where he holds the key to an invasion; but is this really happening, or just a delusion in his mind ?

This remake of the Verhoeven / Schwarzenegger science-fiction classic has good points and bad points, but overall is pretty enjoyable and deserves respect for trying a different premise from the original, albeit balancing this with the expected big budget action and effects. It has several good ideas, but in my view many of them veer towards the Silly Science category; the Fall concept is interesting but if there's only one tunnel how many people can you realistically transport each day (not to mention the apparent absence of gravitational forces climbing an external ladder on a vehicle travelling about 30000 kmh). Visually it's a lot of fun, especially the production design by Patrick Tatopoulos, which mixes grimy rusty overcrowded slums in the first half with shiny super-duper stuff in the second, and there is a good score by the reliable Harry Gregson-Williams. However, a lot of the elements seem familiar from other, better, science-fiction films; the rain-drenched masses from Blade Runner, the villain's robot army from I, Robot, the hovercars from Minority Report. The biggest liability for me though is the script - the Verhoeven movie is full of fun, goofy ideas and buckets of gore (only he would have a dwarf prostitute with a machine gun), while this one is much more restrained and dogmatic, substituting too much action and visual effects where humour and characterisation are needed more. The cast do their best but haven't much to do except look confused and pant a lot as they rush about (I hope Nighy was paid well because his role is the most thankless I've ever seen). The exception is nutty Beckinsale, who livens things up as the traitorous pseudo-wife and steals the show. I love the way she deftly plays the first half-hour with a standard middle-America accent, then switches to a well-heeled English one (she's from London) after her cover is blown. It must have been interesting for Wiseman (the director of the first two Underworld movies) to cast Beckinsale in this role, since she is his real life wife.

In Baltimore in 1849, a series of gruesome murders closely resemble those in the works of macabre writer Edgar Allan Poe. Detective Fields turns to the notorious author for help in discovering who is behind these dastardly deeds ...

The essence of Edgar Allan Poe's masterful poetry and prose is difficult to translate to the screen for many reasons, but prime amongst them is simply the words themselves. In his feverish writing, it is the characters' mental states and the nervous desperation he evokes with such disturbing intensity which drives the reader to shudder with gloom. As soon as you visualise his work it becomes a conflict between adherence to costume drama and the ultra-dark interiors present here, with modern dialogue and horror movie clichés. Having said that, it's a great central idea and an enjoyably gruesome story. Despite the title, the plot doesn't really have much to do with Poe's masterful 1845 poem The Raven; instead it starts with the killings from The Murders In The Rue Morgue, moves on to The Pit And The Pendulum through The Cask of Amontillado and culminates in The Tell-Tale Heart, with references to several other stories and poems. The performances are good, if a little histrionic (and confusingly Gleeson and McNally look almost identical), but the tone is too uneven - one minute Poe is a washed-up egotistical drunk and the next a chivalrous and dashing saviour. The film is at its best in the rare moments where it is slow and quiet, such as the soliloquy Poe gives about his (real life) wife Virginia's tragic protracted death from tuberculosis - "I often thought I could hear the sound of darkness as it stole across the horizon, rushing towards me. But here I was overwhelmed by a sorrow so poignant. Once she finally died I felt in all candour a great release, but it was soon supplanted by the return of that dark and morbid melancholy that has followed me like a black dog all my life ... ". The film is handsomely mounted - shot in Serbia and Hungary - with terrific sets and an elegant masked ball centrepiece - but in the end this is neither a dramatically fulfilling biopic of Poe or an exciting adaption of his work, so for me it falls a little flat. An enjoyable evening's entertainment though, but for better quality Poe fare, you still can't beat the sixties Roger Corman adaptations - my favourite of which is the 1961 The Pit And The Pendulum, but 1963's overtly comic The Raven is very funny/scary, and both were scripted by the brilliant science-fiction/horror author Richard Matheson. The writers of this movie could do well to study his work.

Bilbo Baggins is a hobbit from the peaceful Shire. One day, twelve dwarfs and a wizard called Gandalf show up at his door and almost before he knows it he's off on a dangerous quest to steal some gold from a dragon who lives under a mountain ...

This beautiful adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien's classic children's adventure story, made by the same team as the epic The Lord Of The Rings movies from eleven years earlier, is just as visually dazzling, lovingly crafted and wildly imaginative as its grand predecessors. It even begins with a prologue set during the opening of the previous films, featuring Holm and Wood as Bilbo and Frodo, which looks as fresh as if it were shot during the originals. Jackson steps back into the world of Middle-earth with a sure hand, maintaining just the right balance of consistency and atmosphere, combined with the telling of a very different and more intimate story. The Hobbit is a simpler, more whimsical tale, with just one plot thread, far fewer characters and more emphasis on humour, and the cast are all excellent. Freeman captures Bilbo's innate fussiness and irritability, and the conflict between this and his desire to go adventuring, while the actors playing the dwarfs manage the tricky task of making their characters distinct and memorable. McKellen is the key link to the previous adventures and steps back into the frame with aplomb, while Serkis as usual steals the movie as Gollum in the classic Riddles In The Dark sequence. By using all the key technicians again - especially composer Howard Shore, cameraman Andrew Lesnie, and effects/makeup/costumes/props designer Richard Taylor - the movie has quality and continuity assured, and is fun, fresh, dramatic and exciting from start to finish. I'm afraid I must however comment on something fundamental which bothers me - the tone. In my view the film tries very hard to be as similar as possible to The Lord Of The Rings, and I'd guess this was at the insistence of the financiers. It does this several ways; by simply being long (the novel of The Hobbit is about a quarter of the length of The Lord Of The Rings), by constructing expansive sequences from nothing (for example, the Rock Giants scene is a lengthy and expensive looking section in the film but a throwaway sentence in the book), by creating deliberate links (such as the meeting with Saruman and Galadriel, which is a fabrication for the movie), and, worst of all, by altering the fabric of the plot in unjustifiable ways. The pale orc antagonist character, Azog, and the revenge plot which accompanies him, is complete invention, most likely to justify lengthy and bloody action sequences which play no part in the novel. This is odd for a movie which does such a good job of faithfully creating Tolkien's world - for example, the opening dinner scene is a near perfect recreation of the book's opening chapter. Bilbo doesn't rescue Thorin at any point in the novel and they don't have any emotional reconciliations either. I'm sure I'm not alone in thinking the story of The Hobbit could easily be told in one solid two-hour movie, and that all of the expensive embellishment is perhaps chiefly to ensure patrons purchase three tickets. I don't want to be cynical or judgemental though - whatever the movie's aims or production history, it is exquisitely made, fantastic entertainment, and a definitive version of one of the most influential adventure stories ever written.

Walt Kowalski is a retired Detroit auto plant worker and Korean War veteran, who is newly widowed. When Thao, an Asian-American kid who lives next door, unsuccessfully tries to steal Walt's classic car, the pair form an unlikely bond ...

This is yet another low-key offbeat quality drama from Eastwood, with rich characters, a powerful bite, wry humour and and an exceptionally well plotted script by Nick Schenk. The story is full of poignant metaphor and juxtaposition. Walt is a bitter and xenophobic hardass - a sour, judgemental old man who doesn't like anything in the modern world and does his best to withdraw from everyone in it. The fact that he gradually comes to accept his neighbours, enjoy their company and supports Thao far more than his own children is compelling and ironic, summed up by the line where he says, "God, I've got more in common with these gooks than I do my own spoilt rotten family.". His final self-sacrifice not only mirrors his experience in the war (in reverse) but is the last creative act of a man who has spent his whole life literally fixing things. It's a great story, full of surprising scenes and in many ways it fits perfectly with Eastwood's classic antiheroes, presenting us with a man who is deeply flawed but who achieves redemption through positive social action. It also has a unique aspect in the portrayal of the Hmong characters (mountain people originally from areas of China/Laos/Vietnam), a very specific ethnic group I don't recall being featured in any other movie. Thao and Sue put up with Walt's relentless slurs and racist language but they see beyond his offensive exterior and teach him more about why he is the way he is than he would have thought possible. All the performances are good, particularly from the Hmong actors, almost all of whom had never been in a film before. Eastwood fans should also note the smooth, subtle score written by his elder son Kyle (and featuring a cool end-title song performed by jazz/pop singer Jamie Cullum) and the smart cameo by his younger son Scott as Sue's luckless date. For motorheads, the car is a 1972 Ford Gran Torino SportsRoof, an earlier version of the old TV Starsky & Hutch Striped Tomato copmobile. A fine, thought provoking, intelligent drama.

In the world of Middle-earth, a lowly hobbit, Frodo Baggins, is entrusted with a daunting mission; he must go on a long and dangerous journey to destroy the powerful One Ring in the evil country of Mordor. Crossing strange lands filled with both foe and friend, has he the strength of character needed to fulfil this perilous quest ?

This fabulous, thrilling, exquisite and beautifully realised telling of J.R.R. Tolkien's epic adventure classic is a joyous experience from start to finish. An incredible achievement from director / co-writer / co-producer Jackson, he has not only done justice to Tolkien's epic book, but breathed new life into the characters and adventures. Despite its length the movie never drags, but also never compromises on design, detail and atmosphere. It truly transports us to a banquet of breathtaking places - the peaceful gardens of the Shire, the beautiful Elven city of Rivendell, the gloomy Mines of Moria, the enchanted forest of Lothlorien, many many more. Even minor locations such as the Prancing Pony Inn where Frodo first meets Aragorn, are stunningly well crafted. The key to all fantasy filmmaking is to spend time to create the world of the story and in this respect the film is faultless. Equally brilliant however is the writing and acting, which is pitched at exactly the right level. The characters are larger than life, but all the performances are so sincere that the many emotional moments never fail to deliver. Everybody is good and perfectly cast for their part. I love all the characters but my favourite is definitely Sam, who has none of the powers or importance of the others but always seems to me the most noble and heroic of all. As much care has been lavished on all the aspects of the production, from Howard Shore's beautiful string score/choral score to the fabulous visual effects by Jim Rygiel and Richard Taylor. The movie uses effects in a truly evocative way, epitomised by the scenes where Gandalf is trapped atop the Tower of Isengard while Saruman's orc minions plunder the earth below. This is also perhaps the most enjoyable of the trilogy, setting up the odyssey and bringing the disparate characters together in their shared predicament. It's full of terrific scenes, such as the encounter with the Nazgul on the road, the siege on Weathertop Hill, the fight with the cave troll, Gandalf's heroic stand against the Balrog and Boromir's tragic demise. I have only one small issue with the movie - the Arwen character; Tyler's performance is fine, as is the writing, but I think she is an unnecessary fabrication for the films (she really only appears in detail in an appendix of the book) and has too much significance. In the book, Frodo makes it on his own across the river to Rivendell - her saving of him in this movie undermines his bravery and stoicism and is an unnecessary alteration in a work so profoundly faithful to its source material in every other respect. This does not detract however from what is a near perfect adventure film, rich in mythology and breathtaking in its visual splendour. Shot all over Jackson's native New Zealand in truly beautiful locations - watch out for the man himself in a brief walk-on as a wet carrot crunching rube in the town of Bree. A magnificent adaptation of a truly timeless adventure story.

Yossarian is a US Army bombardier serving in Mediterranean Italy during World War II. Despairing of the horrors, lunatic bureaucracy and general insanity all around, he resolves to get grounded by claiming to be crazy. But there's a catch; to be grounded you must be diagnosed as crazy, but if you ask to be grounded then quite clearly you're sane ...

Much like Naked Lunch, this is a good movie of a good book which is fairly unfilmable. Joseph Heller's 1961 novel is an amazing achievement - arguably the first novel to deal with war as both horror and comedy, using an episodic stream of consciousness approach which enhances both sides of the material to great effect. The movie, made at the height of the US-Vietnam war, has something of a hippy sensibility, but is very successful in its surrealism and satire. It's almost impossible to imagine it being made nowadays; scenes like the one where Yossarian pretends to be the son of a visiting family when the real son has inconveniently died shortly before are too daring and avant garde for a modern studio picture. The movie piles on craziness after craziness without ever seeming heavy-handed, but for every funny moment there are carefully crafted shocks, culminating in Yossarian's post-curfew walk through a city where crime and depravity have become so common that no-one hardly notices anymore. The film's trump card is a stunning cast of great actors in early stages of their careers; Voight, Garfunkel (billed here as Arthur), Sheen, Grodin and Balaban are all terrific, Newhart is very funny as the harassed Major Major, and Welles steals his scenes as the world-weary General Dreedle. The best two performances for me though are from Arkin and Perkins, perhaps the two most interesting American actors of their generation, who seem to make almost every nuance and gesture somehow add to the characterisation and impact of each scene. Nervous comedy is probably about the hardest thing to play, and this is a masterclass from both. Nicely shot in the Sonora desert by David Watkin, with an amazing main set built by Richard Sylbert. Written by Buck Henry (who plays the cigar-chewing Lieutenant-Colonel Korn), who also collaborated with Nichols on their previous movie, The Graduate. It's worth noting the influence of the seminal 1923 Czechoslovakian novel The Good Soldier Svejk by Jaroslav Hasek, on both the movie and Heller's book. Not everything in the film works as well as it could; the absence of a score for me is a problem, the situations are so extreme that they require patience and an open mind, and as with all non-structured writing it does sometimes slip into an episodic feel, rather than a flowing story. It's an amazing statement on what war is really all about though, made by a big studio (Paramount) during a short interval when Hollywood had the courage to back filmmakers and artists to try something imaginative and different. If you've only vaguely heard the term Military Industrial Complex and can't see why there are always so many nasty little wars going on all around our world, this is a good movie to try and catch for some answers.

In 1944, an elite US unit of jungle fighters dubbed Merrill's Marauders is engaged in a dangerous mission in Burma to capture a Japanese stronghold. Faced with treacherous conditions and greatly outnumbered, can they prevail ?

This gritty war story, like almost all of Fuller's fascinating films, challenges the viewer to decide what it is really saying. On one hand it's a simple story of bravery, heroism and loyalty overcoming incredible odds, and is comparable to many of the war pictures of its time. On the other however, it's a detached portrayal of military insanity, shocking savage mistreatment of men pushed through almost unimaginable hardship for scant reason. The victories and the patriotic ending (which was added against Fuller's wishes) dress it up a little more palatable, but for me it's clear which one of these viewpoints the film is really going for. People often think movies like The Deer Hunter or Platoon were the first to depict the physical and psychological ravages of war, but this is unfounded; there's a long tradition of realism in American war films, with movies like this, Robert Aldrich's Attack, John Huston's The Red Badge Of Courage, all the way back to Lewis Milestone's All Quiet On The Western Front. Fuller was a WWII veteran and he understands these men instinctively; the General given impossible decisions to make, the Lieutenant who finds it hard to be above the camaraderie of his men, the world-weary Sergeant who cries when a local woman offers him a bowl of rice. Shot in the Philippines in beautiful Cinemascope by longtime John Wayne collaborator William H. Clothier, the camera glides around the action often with long, elegant silent takes. One of the hardest things for a movie to do is convey the oppressive conditions this one does - heat, humidity, stench, malaria, grime, mud, thirst, sheer animal exhaustion - which are at the very core of the story. The pathos of the movie is that it's all true; there really was a 5307th Composite Unit and they did march 750 miles across Burma, fought five major battles and only 200 men from 3000 survived. The movie was adapted by Fuller and producer Milton Sperling from a book by journalist Charlton Ogburn. Chandler's final film.

In 1999, a strange spike of seismic activity causes a disaster at a Japanese nuclear power plant. Fifteen years later, when the same patterns recur, Ford Brody returns to the plant to seek answers, only to discover the authorities are keeping a terrible secret ...

I love old monster movies and Toho Studios' classic Gojira is one of my favourites. This new blockbuster version is a terrific modern-day retelling but with a cool old-fashioned sensibility; heroic good guys, non-stop action, terrific story, family friendly, serious but fun entertainment. Even better, it doesn't make the mistake so many blockbusters do and play dumb - the drama and the tragedy are played straight, without detracting from the epic or crazy aspects of the story. Edwards creates moments of horror, tension, spectacle and relief within the fantasy context, reminiscent of Spielberg's early work, with a keen eye for atmosphere. He also brings out the themes exceptionally well - the tragic disaster scenes have real bite and recall the all too recent catastrophes of the Indonesian Tsunami, Hurricane Katrina and the Fukushima Daiichi meltdown. Dr Serizawa (Watanabe) sums it up perfectly when he says, "The arrogance of men is thinking nature is in their control, and not the other way around.". Godzilla has always been a metaphor for natural justice and the movie exploits it to the hilt, all the while bombarding us with dogfights, nuclear bombs, tidal waves, helicopters, exploding trains, mass panic, not forgetting of course the super-scary Mutos (Massive Unidentified Terrestrial Organisms). Technically it's equally fabulous, with great photography by Irish cameraman Seamus McGarvey, superb visual effects by Jim Rygiel and wonderful sound effects by Erik Aadahl - if ever there's a film to see (or rather hear) in a cinema, it's this; only a full-on sound system can do justice to Godzilla's roar. Best of all is the stomping, menacing score by Alexandre DeSplat, which rampages along with the story and leaves us gasping with intensity just as much as the visuals - there's an amazing, almost ethereal sequence, where Ford parachutes into the smoking hell of San Francisco to the eerie chorale from Gyorgy Ligeti's Requiem which is like nothing I've ever seen before. The cast are good, particularly Watanabe (Tampopo, The Last Samurai), Cranston and Strathairn; youthful beefcake lead Taylor-Johnson does well too but flounders occasionally at the scale of events. The movie is not without some flaws - the last half-hour particularly is needlessly dark and dingy, and the script takes a few lurches in continuity which could have been smoothed out. These quibbles aside, this is a cracking great monster flick, beautifully crafted, with thrills aplenty, a perfect movie for a ten-year-old boy or anyone (like me) who has never really grown up much beyond that. Hail to the King Of The Monsters.

During the Mexican Revolution, Chuncho is a bandit running guns for peasant leader Elias. Whilst robbing an army supply train, Chuncho meets Nino, an unusual American, who wants to join his group and seems to have a great interest in meeting Elias ...

This distinctive Italian western has several great things going for it - a fine cast, a stylish score by Luis Bacalov, lots of exciting action scenes - but its real asset is a terrific story by Salvatore Laurani and Franco Solinas. The scripts for many spaghetti westerns are just simple revenge dramas, but this has real character depth and a powerful political context, forcing the uneducated Chuncho to decide what he really believes in. Is he an outlaw, or a champion of the poor, or simply a mercenary like Nino. He may not be very smart - he's unable to read or even count, and he doesn't realise Nino's real mission when other men would - but in the end he does the right thing for his country and for the revolution. The other characters are equally multi-faceted; El Santo views the fight as a crusade for God's justice, Nino may be a cold killer but he's (mostly) honest, up-front and doesn't double-cross Chuncho when it would be so easy to do so, and Adelita is one of the few powerful and independent women in these movies, who holds her own, fights for herself, and isn't interested in macho bravado. Volonté, Kinski and gorgeous dark-haired British-Jamaican Beswick (check her out also in One Million Years B.C. and Dr Jekyll & Sister Hyde) are all terrific but perhaps the real find is Colombian actor Castel as the enigmatic Nino/Tate. With his grey suit, fastidious nature and let's-get-on-with-it attitude he is unlike anybody else and a perfect opposites-attract match for the rip-roaring Chuncho, and it's through him and his callous disregard for the Mexican people and their struggle for identity that the movie really scores. Damiano's direction is solid, and he deserves plaudits for making a lefty art-house picture disguised as a contemporary entertainment. Like so many Italian films of the period, this movie has several titles; the original is Quién Sabe ? (translating in Spanish as "Who knows ?"), but it is perhaps better known by the US title A Bullet For The General, and is also sometimes subtitled El Chucho (meaning mutt/dog in Spanish, which is a perfect description of Volonté's character, despite the missing letter). A stylish, thought-provoking and well-acted western for the discerning cult movie enthusiast.

One evening in 1912, the well-to-do Birling family are celebrating the engagement of their daughter Sheila to family friend Gerald when a strange policeman, Inspector Poole, arrives with news of the suicide of a young woman, Eva Smith. It transpires the Birlings all had separate dealings with Eva, and may bear the responsibility for her fate ...

John Boynton Priestley's 1946 play An Inspector Calls is a masterpiece of theatre and this film is an excellent screen adaptation, not to be missed. The plot details are brilliant, as each family member's cruel treatment of Eva is mercilessly exposed by the Inspector, piling hardship and misfortune upon her to its grim conclusion. But this is not a heavy-handed expose or moral lecture - each point is made with subtlety and clarity, and as the Birlings (particularly daughter and son) start to confront the enormity of their combined efforts we begin to feel almost as sorry for them as Eva. Like us all, they try to rationalise their actions, instead of accepting the simple truth that everything we do affects someone, often in ways we don't understand and fail to recognise. The other aspect of the story which fascinates me is the nature of Inspector Poole (or in the original text, Goole). I'm a sucker for Mysterious Dude characters, and he's one of the best. What is he ? He seems to have supernatural abilities, but again treated with delicate subtlety (like the moment he checks his watch just before Eric comes in), but is he a ghost, a ghoul (sic), an avenging angel, a phantom conjured by the force of the Birlings' collective guilt ? Sim is superb in the role, his hawkish stare and uncomfortable smile penetrating right into the heart of the family's shameful conscience. Of course, he is a plot device to bring across the social and political points Priestley wants to emphasise, but what a fabulous character. The direction is tight and tense; Hamilton was a skilled technician (he made four of the classic James Bond films) but he extracts all the emotional weight from the events in this very unique drama. There is one key difference between film and play, which is the characterisation of Eva via flashbacks. Whilst I understand the need for this, and Wenham's performance is good, I think the play is much stronger for Eva's absence. Literally seeing her somehow grounds the film more in the ordinary, but in the play she exists only in our imaginations, a definitive Everywoman, haunting our thoughts, which for me is the real strength of the story. Great films of plays are rare (see Wait Until Dark or Sleuth), but this is definitely one of the exceptions and a fine showcase of Priestley's salute to the dispossessed.

Buck is a strong young dog growing up in California in 1897 when he is stolen and taken to the Yukon territory to work pulling sleds. He passes from owner to owner, surviving harsh adventures, but starts to feel an instinctual impulse to run free ...

This relatively low-budget Canadian TV movie is a fabulous adaptation of Jack London's classic 1903 novel about the hardships of nature in the frozen wastes of Alaska during the Gold Rush. What makes it particularly impressive is London's book is hard to translate to the screen; it's episodic, cerebral, theme-laden and takes place entirely from Buck's point of view. The film carefully balances landscapes, atmosphere, performances and narration to maintain a smooth transition through Buck's life; the camera frequently low to see the world as he sees it and the human actors often playing second fiddle to the canine ones. It really brings out the essence of London's writing, such as in the middle sequence where the ill-prepared prospectors don't learn or adapt quickly enough to the hard surroundings, whilst Buck has the intelligence and strength to do so. It's a great story for kids, but it never shies away from honesty, such as the heartbreaking moment when Dave gets shot out of the sight of the other dogs, but they all know what has happened to him. Dreyfuss' exceptional narration brings this to the fore with some of London's most beautiful and poetic passages, describing Buck's yearning for something elemental and inexplicable in his soul. The human cast are good, particularly Hauer, one of the few actors who doesn't look out of place in this environment, but the dogs are even better. Buck is played by a Leonberger (in the book he is a St Bernard / Collie cross) with a deeply expressive face and amazing physicality, but all the animal actors are simply terrific. The movie was shot in Quebec Province on the other side of the continent from where it's set, but in equally fantastic and inhospitable locations. There's also a great score from Alan Reeves. There are at least six movie/TV versions of this tale, notably the 1935 William Wellman / Clark Gable one, but I think this is probably the best and the most authentic. What I love most about it (other than Buck) is that it looks timeless - it was made seventeen years ago but it could be seventy years ago. It's a story which transcends time. I watched it with my own dog sleeping next to me, which is undoubtedly the best way to see it.

In 1927, George Valentin is a big Hollywood star, who by chance meets aspiring actress Peppy Miller. But George's career takes a slump when sound comes in and he refuses to talk, while Peppy's fame is on the rise. Can George overcome his artistic block and pull his life together again ?

This terrific movie, like The Purple Rose Of Cairo or Cinema Paradiso, is a film made out of pure love for cinema itself. It's beguiling, charming, beautifully acted, technically dazzling and an artistic triumph. To my knowledge, Jacques Tati and Mel Brooks are the only filmmakers prior to this with the courage to make a silent film in the sound era, and Hazanavicius joins their illustrious ranks. I love the way the movie plays with its theme - it starts with George in a spy movie being tortured and refusing to talk, it's replete with signs requesting silence, and George's creative slump is literally made manifest by noise. This is a beautiful idea - if only the great silent stars like Lon Chaney, Buster Keaton, Mary Pickford and Rudolf Valentino could have seen it. The recreation of the period and more importantly the style of the silent era is bang on; it was shot in the 4:3 ratio and at a lower frame-rate, deliberately replicating only camera moves available at the time, and it looks gorgeous. Dujardin and Bejo are excellent in the leads, expressing everything using only their physicality - the purest of acting - and the excellent support cast look perfect, notably the scene-stealing performance from Uggie the Jack Russell Terrier, who won the prestigious Palm Dog award at the 2011 Cannes Film Festival. The other key aspect of the film is Ludovic Bource's truly inspired score, which uses woodwind and percussion in particular to complement the action, provide emotional gravitas and recreate the period in equal measure with seemingly effortless ease, amusingly comical one moment, romantic and languorous the next. If I have one mild criticism of the movie it's the decision to use Bernard Herrmann's Scene D'Amour theme from Vertigo as the accompaniment to the dramatic penultimate sequence. The music fits perfectly and the scene is beautiful, but the deliberate inclusion of such a classic piece of movie music is perhaps too much of a distraction in a film where the rest of the original score is so strong. I like silent films; I respond to their purity, and I love sound movies like C'era Una Volta Il West or Wall-E which recognise that you can create so much more without dialogue. The Artist is a cool, classy, funny, touching and hugely enjoyable modern silent movie.

Leonora Eames is a small town girl in Los Angeles looking for love who bags millionaire Smith Ohlrig as a husband. However, she is unhappy, Ohlrig is a cold-hearted possessive creep and when she meets the philanthropic Dr Quinada her thoughts start to stray ...

Caught is a movie for film buffs. Whilst the plot is serviceable, it's not really believable in any sense - millionaire marries girl he hardly knows purely to annoy his analyst - and Leonora is similarly far-fetched. She's constantly trying to prove herself worthy and not a gold-digger, but if so why does she marry Smith ? And while Bel Geddes does the best she can, she's caught (sorry) between these two sides of her character, and so suffers in comparison with the femme fatales and Woman's Film stars of the time. Where the movie really scores however is in its look, which is a masterclass in evocative and intriguing photography. Ophuls was a master with the camera, as was director of photography Lee Garmes (Scarface, Duel In The Sun), and so much of the film is an exercise in cool style - the camera follows the actors through offices and bars where anyone else would cut, past daring fake walls, drifting sideways to focus on a particular element of the set, even at one point using a crane at ground level to pull back over Ryan's body when he collapses. If you're interested, the origins of Kubrick, Polanski and Spielberg's visual styles are all in this picture. There's also a great teeth-grinding psycho performance from Ryan as the slimeball (allegedly a hatchet job on Howard Hughes), and note Bois as the lackey who finally has his moment. Bois played in German films for years then fled the Nazis (like Ophuls), made forty movies in Hollywood (he plays the pickpocket in Casablanca) and returned to Germany for a very successful TV career. Based on the book Wild Calendar by Libbie Block.

From a prison cell, Baron Victor Frankenstein recounts the tale of his life's work - a mad experiment to create a man from the dead body parts of others, and bring him to life …

I think Mary Shelley's 1818 novel Frankenstein is one of the greatest and most influential books ever written - an amazing story, a colossal achievement and perhaps the touchstone against which all other horror novels should be compared. Filming the book however has always been notoriously difficult, but of the numerous screen adaptations and variations of the tale, this one for me, despite its small budget and minimal approach, is the best. This is sacrilege perhaps, since it's not particularly faithful to the book - it throws tons of stuff out, adds the rather pedestrian linking character of Paul and the unnecessary subplot with Justine the maid, misrepresents the creature, bookends the narrative and changes the ending. Yet despite all this I still feel it's the best distillation of the story; the experiments in the lab, the graverobbing, the birth of the creature and its disastrous aftermath - but most importantly in the persona of Cushing as Frankenstein. Some actors are simply in the right place at the right time, as is the case here. His performance is mesmerisingly brilliant - it's very hard to play this type of material without overdoing it (the principal flaw in James Whale's equally stunning 1931 version) and yet still portray the intensity and single-mindedness so crucial to the plot. Cushing is the Villain of Villains, somehow so attractive in his intelligence and passion but also revoltingly sinister in his callous disregard for anything other than his work. If you learn nothing else about Frankenstein, always remember that both the name and the monster in the story refer to the scientist, not the creature he creates (which is both innocent and nameless), and Cushing simply is Frankenstein. The supporting cast are all good, particularly cult favourite Court as the basque-bursting Elizabeth (don't miss her in Roger Corman's The Raven and The Masque Of The Red Death), and of course Lee in a career-making part as the horrific yet pitiable subject of Frankenstein's endeavours. This film was an enormous hit on its release, both in Europe and the US, and formed the basis for the famous Hammer Films series of horror movies. It also brought together a great production crew - director Fisher, writer Jimmy Sangster, cameraman Jack Asher, editor James Needs, composer James Bernard, designer Bernard Robinson and producer Anthony Hinds amongst others - who went on to make many great little films throughout the sixties. There are lots of straight movie versions of this great story, and a thousand variations; everything from The Rocky Horror Picture Show to Bicentennial Man. Almost all of them are interesting and explore the rich themes in Shelley's extraordinary book, but this one somehow captures the essence of it with the greatest purity. Cushing was one of the best actors the UK has ever produced, and his performance in this role stands head and shoulders above all the others.

Kanji Watanabe is a widowed government section head near retirement who is informed he has stomach cancer and not long to live. After a period of high-life and introspection he resolves he must do something meaningful with the precious time remaining to him.

The premise of Ikiru (which translates in English as "to live") is an old and clichéd idea; the plot is nominally derived from Leo Tolstoy's The Death Of Ivan Ilyich, but probably a thousand other stories. What distinguishes it, and what makes it still as relevant as ever, is the depiction of Watanabe as someone drab and ordinary, with whom we can all relate. When he is faced with the horror of his own mortality he looks back over his work, his family, his contribution to society, and he can find nothing he has done which made any difference. He has slept through life, keeping his head down, following whatever path was the simplest and easiest, either afraid of or indifferent to the possibilities around him. Kurosawa's amazing gift is to present the story of a man painfully similar to ourselves, living in an all-too familiar world where almost everybody is either bland or corrupt, and yet somehow still produce a gripping, profound and intensely moving drama. Shimura is remarkable in the lead, his body bent by the weight of his predicament, his eyes shining with fear and regret as he searches for truth and clarity in an unfeeling world. His outcast status is beautifully encapsulated in the scene where he sings an old song, Gondola No Uta, and those around him move back in fear, lest they somehow catch his affliction. Kurosawa isn't telling us to pity this man - he's saying we are all this man, and everything we do, in our lives, in our work, in our relations with others, affects us and everyone around us. We must all face our own mortality at some point, and consider what account of our deeds we can give. The supreme irony is the lengthy wake sequence, in which Watanabe's colleagues initially downplay his role in the building of the playground, then gradually confess their admiration, then pledge that they will follow his example - only to carry on in the same thoughtless way, doomed to repeat his mistakes. The movie is full of wonderful shots (the shell-shocked Watanabe hearing no sounds on the busy street, the incongruous toy bunny between him and Toyo at the restaurant, the water reflected on his face when he is revived on the building site, many others) which subtly emphasise his plight, as does Fumio Hayasaka's mournful score. Written by the great team of Shinobu Hashimoto, Hideo Oguni and Kurosawa, who (along with another frequent collaborator, Ryuzo Kikushima) wrote fifteen films together, nearly all classics of Japanese cinema. Ikiru is a picture of great humanity; without simplification or sentimentality it tells a story of hope in a world where the greatest enemies are conformity and inaction. Kurosawa shows us that everyone can make a difference - the choice is up to us.

Pirate Jack Sparrow is laying low in London when he runs into his old foe Barbossa, who has been engaged by King George II to find the legendary Fountain of Youth before the Spanish. Jack teams up with an old flame, Angelica, to try to beat them both to the prize, but little does he know that Angelica is the daughter of the dreaded Blackbeard ...

This is the fourth Pirates Of The Caribbean film, and inevitably the series becomes a bit too familiar as it proceeds but nevertheless it's still terrific fun all the way through, and is also a completely stand-alone adventure in its own right, with only Captain Jack, a now peg-legged Barbossa and Mr Gibbs (McNally) returning from the previous movies. Depp is as goofy good fun as always, if perhaps a little more restrained than in previous outings but then so is everybody, and there's a good balance between action, fantasy and comedy. The best thing in the movie for me though is the score by Hans Zimmer, which is a great old-fashioned charging orchestral symphony mixed with Spanish and choral influences to produce a terrific soundtrack which is constantly propelling the whole thing forward. The origins of the film are quite interesting - it's loosely based on Tim Powers' original 1987 novel On Stranger Tides (which also partly inspired the excellent LucasArts video game The Secret Of Monkey Island), mixed into the Disney pirate universe, the (real) historical figure of Edward Teach and the (mythological) conquistador stories of Bimini. It's also more than a little similar to one of my favourite pirate movies, The Golden Voyage Of Sinbad, which also involves a supernatural ship and a quest for the Fountain of Youth. It's maybe not a patch on the original Jack Sparrow movie, but it's great looking, very nicely made and quality entertainment throughout.

Dr Ryan Stone is on a spacewalk to repair a prototype scanner on the International Space Station when the orbiting debris from a destroyed satellite smashes into her shuttle and throws her into space. She is rescued by mission commander Matt Kowalski, but stranded outside, with little oxygen, how will they make it back to safety ?

I have this vague conceptual notion of pure cinema, which is based around the idea of telling a story via film which couldn't be told better in any other form, but also where the techniques of cinema - direction, photography, editing, music - come together to create a unique harmonious whole. As a piece of work, Gravity is such a film, with breathtaking sequences, fantastic visuals, delicious suspense, marvellous direction and extraordinary imagination. It starts with an uninterrupted thirteen-minute shot which just by itself is a mini-masterpiece of how to tell a story visually, and rivals any of the great opening shots in cinema (Touch Of Evil, Halloween, Snake Eyes, etc). Cuarón's direction (he also co-wrote, co-produced and co-edited the film) is near faultless; everything in the movie is pared down to the essential - two characters, four locations (if you count space) and a plot which takes place almost in real time. This makes for an incredibly intense experience which never lets go - there is no time to relax until the movie is over. A huge part of the film is the visual effects element, supervised by Tim Webber, which is brilliant in that it is so utterly convincing you soon don't notice it. It's just Sandra Bullock in outer space, and you forget that after about five minutes through the combination of the effects work, the sublime mixing of different elements together (CGI, wire work, props, sound) and her fabulous low-key performance. Some space movies simply don't convince - for example, Clint Eastwood's Space Cowboys is a good film and an interesting story but doesn't work for me technically - whilst this approaches the absolute pinnacle of the genre, Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey. Mexican cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki's photography is particularly strong, focusing one minute on a tiny floating teardrop, the next on some vast interplanetary distance, but always showing us what we need to see, moving seamlessly, documenting an environment most of us can only ever know from cinema with incisive accuracy and depth. This, combined with the smooth unhurried editing, creates a truly atmospheric experience of the wonders (and terrors) of life outside Earth's atmosphere. Given all this brilliant creativity, does the movie have any liabilities ? I guess there is one, which just tarnishes it slightly for me, in relation to comparable films like 2010 or Moon. The character drama is very small; we want Dr Stone to live, and we want her to want to live despite the tragedy in her past, but with nobody to react against and no time for anything other than survival, where is the emotional gravitas of the title ? Bullock is wonderful nonetheless, not least for taking what must have been a painful and thankless acting job and turning it into a truly modern icon of sci-fi cinema. My nerdy adolescent fanboy heart will always belong to Warrant Officer Ripley in Alien, but Dr Stone will grow on me. Amazingly, this was a recent seven-time Oscar winner (Best Director, Best Cinematography, Best Original Score, Best Film Editing, Best Visual Effects, Best Sound Editing and Best Sound Mixing) - wow, what happened there ? A science-fiction movie gaining artistic recognition ? What's next - a remake of Dark Star for Best Picture ? My cynicism aside however, this a tour-de-force for gifted Mexican director Cuarón and an absolute must-see for all fans of genre cinema. Trivia - did you recognise the voice of the inimitable Ed Harris (from Apollo 13) as the mission controller ?

John Rollason is a scientist studying the ecosystems in the frozen Himalayan mountains. He joins a team led by Tom Friend, an ambitious adventurer who wants to trap the elusive creature known as the Yeti. Will they return from this perilous expedition ?

This minor black-and-white creature feature, made by the same team responsible for the two excellent Quatermass films of the fifties (director Guest, writer Nigel Kneale and production company Hammer) is an agreeable and intelligent if undistinguished genre flick. The obvious approach would be to do a simple monster movie with the standard ten-little-Indians setup; instead, Kneale's intelligent script approaches both the locating of the creature and its evolutionary position with sympathetic and scientific detachment. The movie is more a critique of the commercial exploitation of such a phenomenon, and the lengths Friend will go to in pursuing it. Cushing and Tucker exploit these ideas very well in their performances, and the support cast is good, including a nice turn by a young Brown (better known as spy boss M in four eighties James Bond movies) as the trapper. While the film has its budgetary limitations it's still good to look at, mixing second unit work shot in the French Pyrenees with some cool looking sets, and it manages to evoke the mystique and sense of mourning the script is aiming for. A thoughtful little flick, and one of a trio of agreeable horror movies American star Tucker made in Britain at the time, the other two being the oddball The Strange World Of Planet X and the not-to-be-missed cult favourite The Trollenberg Terror (aka The Crawling Eye).