Reviews

Perhaps the most moving aspect of this very moving adaptation of Philip Roth's "The Dying Animal" is Penelope Cruz's extraordinary performance. Ben Kingsly is also superb but we're kind of used to see him explore different universes with absolute ease. From "Ghandi" to "Sexy Beast" Penelope Cruz is a whole other story. From "Volver" to "Vicky Cristina Barcelona" to "Elegy" in rapid succession have transformed this Spanish beauty into one of the best actresses of her generation. She gets under your skin and transmits the emotional journey of her characters with a powerful strength that lasts and lingers. The truth she carries is all consuming and makes the experience totally unforgettable. Her performance alone makes "Elegy" a must see.

This is, perhaps, Woody Allen's darkest tale. No hope, no possibility of hoping. Dreaming seems so meaningless. The "I want" syndrome. Nothing will come out of it and shame on you for wanting it. Colin Farrell and Ewan McGregor are wonderful in performances without frills or shine. Strangely enough, Allen shows a bit of compassion for his characters but no respect. He seems to despise them. It is merit of the two actors that we manage to stay with them without falling in love with them without even like them very much. The ending, I felt, was a bit of a cope out. Woody got to the gates of hell but didn't venture in. He leaves to us the details of all that darkness. The film, however, bears Woody Allen's name but could have been a film by Basil Dearden or J Lee Thompson and I mean that as a compliment.

I'm the surviver of a couple of days "Apartment Zero" debate. I wish I had recorded the arguments. The extraordinary Colin Firth leads the way without meaning to. He himself - I mean, Adrian, Colin's character - doesn't know where he is going, in fact I suspect he doesn't even know that he is moving. The only real things in his life are the painful deterioration of his mother, financial hardship and whatever he sees on the screen of his revival theatre. I wondered how is it possible that he doesn't realises the danger. The director doesn't design a whodunit for us. He tells us, one way or another, that Jack (Hart Bochner) is too good to be true. We know it, Adrian doesn't. Until he sees it on the screen of his own theatre. He understand the danger only when it's projected on a screen. I think that's a fabulous way to tell a story. I was participating in the unveiling, unable to decide. Hoping for Adrian to open up, allowing Jack's designs to materialise even if that could mean a living hell or protecting the zeroness of his existence for ever. The face of Colin Firth when he sees the CU2 on the screen is one of the best silent screams of realisation I have ever seen. Part of the argument is that CU2 is not "See you two" but if you're a foreigner, try to pronounce CU2 and See You Two and you won't hear any difference. Adrian may speak like David Niven but he is not British. He has assumed an old British identity as a shield. The keys to open the doors of "Apartment Zero" are many and varied. You must try to find the right one, that's the thing, and you must never force the lock. Remember he CU2.

Martin Scorsese and Robert De Niro seem to have taken a different road to arrive to very familiar places. Forttunately we're all in for the ride. This is a bitter, dark comedy in the tradition of Pietro Germi and Mario Monicelli. In Scorsese's hands it becomes something we've never seen before. De Niro travels unknown territory with the panache of a seasoned explorer. His Rupert Pupkin is a sub Jay Leno without an agent. His hunger is as shallow as his talent. The arrival to Jerry Lewis's house without an invitation trying to impress his girl is one of the most painful studies in modern humiliation ever put on film. I found myself laughing in horror. "The King of Comedy" is ripe for a revival. Some people consider it a "minor" Scorsese. I disagree. I think it's one of Scorsese and De Niro's best.