The Longest Day (1962)


At 178 minutes, this war epic is aptly named. It’s painfully slow: almost an hour goes by before a shot is fired. A D-Day drama with an all-star cast (42 international stars, according to the cover text), it tries to be panoramic in scope and ends up disjointed and unfocused. There are way too many characters in too many locations. Indeed, new people are being introduced (with title cards) pretty much all the way through. Weirder still, some of the big names – such as Richard Burton – are hardly in it at all. John Wayne is miscast: simply too clumsily wooden and ponderous to be credible as a lieutenant colonel. Meanwhile, the Germans are presented as bumbling and stupid, when clearly they were far from that. But the film is so keen to work as simplistic propaganda that it has no interest in humanising the enemy or even crediting them with tactical skills. It’s self-conscious about its propaganda, too. There are several jarring moments when characters tell each other that this day will go down in history and never be forgotten. The film should show rather than tell. There’s not a hint of moral ambiguity. As such it turns dynamic world-changing events into something surprisingly dull.

Dune (1984)


Famous for being a head-scrambler, David Lynch’s version of the Frank Herbert sci-fi epic is obtuse but fascinating. On my first viewing, many years ago, I found it confusing. Now, having read the novel, I found it made a lot more sense.

There’s a lot going on: the rivalry between two noble houses for control of Arakis (a.k.a. Dune), the mysterious spice (a consciousness-expanding drug), the huge sand worms, the blue glowing eyes of the Fremen, the Bene Gesserit sisterhood of women and their use of telepathy, and The Voice, the Weirding Ways, and the rise of a new messiah...

The special effects, impressive in 1984, now look clunky and almost quaint. But the epic vision of the storytelling shines through.

Kyle MacLachlan is compelling as Paul Atreides. Kenneth McMillan is convincingly nasty as the obese, disfigured Baron Vladimir Harkonnen. Sting has a small part as a demented assassin.

In a way it’s a total mess, but it’s a glorious mess. It tries to achieve so much and doesn’t always succeed. But in terms of its scope and ambition, there’s nothing else quite like it.

Octopussy (1983)


“That’ll keep you in curry for a few weeks, won't it?” James Bond tells an Indian man, after handing him some money. This creaking Roger Moore film shows Bond badly in need of a re-think. As well as the usual racism and sexism, it’s largely played as a comic caper. Bond impersonates Tarzan at one point and dresses up as a circus clown for the dramatic bomb-defusing climax. Not only that, but in the countdown to detonation he wastes vital minutes applying the face paint. But even the “serious” parts are ludicrous. Bond drives a horse box with a fake “back end of a horse” that springs up to allow a small jet plane to unfold. He gets involved in an egg-related scam, with too much attention given to rare Faberge antiques. He travels across water in a fake plastic crocodile. He flies with Q into a hilltop palace using a Union Jack hot-air balloon. He dresses up in an ape costume. And so on.

On the plus side, Maude Adams is strong in the title role even if it’s unclear how much of a villain she really is. On the down side, Louis Jourdan is merely passable as an exiled Afghan prince and Steven Berkoff is utterly appalling as the cartoonish Soviet general Orlov.

You might hope this was it for Roger Moore as Bond, but he survived for one further film (A View to a Kill) – despite looking a little too old and weary for the role.

Skyfall (2012)


The third Daniel Craig Bond film is not only his best, but also the best Bond film overall. Directed by Sam Mendes, it’s pretty much perfect. The witty and dry dialogue is so much stronger than in previous episodes. And it’s visually stunning. The opening sequence (before the mind-bending titles over the Adele song) is a stunning piece of extended action in Istanbul involving a car chase through a crowded market, a shoot-out, a motorbike chase over rooftops, an absurd episode involving an excavator, a fight on the roof of a moving train, and, most dramatically, Bond being shot “dead”.

I’ve heard fans say that this film humanises Bond too much, with his family backstory and the “psychological” dimension, but for me that only makes it better. There’s even the first hint of homoeroticism in a Bond film. The villain teases him, only for 007 to counter “What makes you think this is my first time?”

It’s ideally cast, introducing the new Q (Ben Whishaw) and Moneypenny (Naomie Harris) plus the new Chairman of Intelligence (Ralph Fiennes) and an impressively nasty villain called Raoul Silva (Javier Bardem). Rory Kinnear resumes his role as Bill Tanner, getting the part just right. And Judi Dench is wonderful as M. When she starts reading a poem by Tennyson as Bond runs through the London streets to save her (the film is also a British tourism brochure), it’s deeply stirring stuff.

Centurion (2010)


It’s 117 AD and a Roman centurion in Scotland (Michael Fassbender) has enraged the local Picts. When one of his men kills the Pict leader’s son, the Picts – led by a mute warrior savage called Etain (Olga Kurylenko) – vow to hunt down the remaining Romans.

It’s an exciting drama and the script is fine, but there’s an absurd amount of blood and gore to the point that it’s distracting and almost fetishistic. This also makes the film look trashier than it is.

As in Prometheus and Alien Covenant, Fassbender is strong in the main role and is the best thing about the film. I also liked the kindly witch (Imogen Poots) who cares for him.

The superior 2011 film The Eagle is set about 20 years later and could almost have been designed as a sequel.

Dunkirk (2017)


Stunningly dramatic war film. There’s no let up in the tension, made more extreme by Hans Zimmer’s remarkable music, which – brilliantly – is sometimes indistinguishable from the sound effects. A few things stop it being a masterpiece. The fragmented timelines of the three story threads (it’s a Christopher Nolan film, like the muddled Inception) make it slightly difficult to follow – especially since you cannot easily tell which (masked) Spitfire pilot is which. There’s very little dialogue, so you’re reliant on visual signposting. The characters aren’t as developed as they would be in the superior 1917. Also, the aspect ratio keeps changing, which can be distracting. And I just can’t get along with Kenneth Branagh, whose Commander Bolton has to be a really nice guy as well as a super-tough naval hero.

These gripes aside, it’s incredibly exciting from start to finish. It captures the mad panic of war, if not the blood, guts and pain. But that image of the doomed Spitfire, completely out of fuel and slowly losing height over the coastline, is one that will stay with me.

1984 (1984)


Grim, grey, grisly retelling of the George Orwell novel. John Hurt is Winston Smith. Suzanna Hamilton plays his illicit lover Julia. And Richard Burton is the sinister O’Brien.

While it’s expertly done, it’s difficult to appreciate something so unrelentingly pessimistic – especially during a global crisis. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to take away from it. Yes, totalitarianism is bad. And yes, there are many parallels with the modern world – especially in these dark days of Donald Trump, when “truth” has been devalued.

The Eurythmics recorded the soundtrack, but hardly any of that music is in the film.

Junior Bonner (1972)


Charming Sam Peckinpah film about a rodeo rider (Steve McQueen) hoping to make his fortune while juggling family problems. My copy came free with a newspaper a few years ago.

It’s shot in a remarkable way that juxtaposes fast, feel-good country tunes with insanely dangerous horse and bull manoeuvres.

The highlight is a surreal extended barroom brawl that gets out of hand while Junior quietly gets to know his new girlfriend Charmagne (Barbara Leigh). The scene is given a weirdly trippy feel with dubby sound effects mingling with the country band playing in the room – another striking juxtaposition.

The quirky narrative keeps you guessing until the end. Will Junior’s alcoholic dad get back with his mother? Or will he realise his dream of moving to Australia? And will Junior win the big prize money by lasting eight seconds on the most terrifying bull? And will he get the girl?

The ending isn’t obvious at all, but it is satisfying.

Chinatown (1974)


Highly watchable Roman Polanski crime thriller starring Jack Nicholson and Faye Dunaway. The former plays Jake Gittes, a private investigator. The latter plays Evelyn Mulwray, who is suspected of killing her husband.

The plot unfolds slowly and luxuriously. The L.A. locations look stunning, and it’s one of those films that can be paused at any moment to reveal an image striking enough to work as a poster. There’s a spacious quality to the pace and style of the storytelling that’s missing from so much modern cinema. It’s a film you want to live in.

And Nicholson – one of the most charismatic people to ever walk the Earth – is transfixing.

Breathless (1960)


Unusual French drama written and directed by Jean-Luc Godard. Petty criminal Michel Poiccard (Jean-Paul Belmondo) goes on the run after killing a policeman. In Paris he stays with an American (Jean Seberg as Patricia Franchini) and the film explores their strange relationship as the net tightens around him.

It’s more of a character study than a conventional crime thriller, and one extended scene in Patricia’s flat goes on and on – almost as if the film takes place in real time.

I’m not sure you’re meant to like the characters at all, so it’s difficult to warm to, but the edgy energy of the film is striking.

Manchester by the Sea (2016)

Heartbreaking drama about bereavement and grief. Lee Chandler (Casey Affleck) is mourning his brother when he learns he’s been named as the guardian of his 16-year-old nephew Patrick (Lucas Hedges). But Lee has his own grief he never came to terms with – his children died in a house fire as a result of his own actions and his wife Randi (Michelle Williams) subsequently left him.

Told in partial flashback and set in bleak Maine winter scenery, it’s a desperately sad story with no easy answers about anything.

The acting is uniformly superb and the music, from Albinoni to Bob Dylan, is perfectly chosen for each scene. It’s masterful in its emotionally harrowing realism, but it’s not something to watch if you are feeling fragile.

This Is Spinal Tap (1984)


Rob Reiner’s masterpiece is one of the funniest films ever made. Christopher Guest, Michael McKean and Harry Shearer are hilarious as the British heavy metal band on tour in the USA. As ticket sales fall and their popularity wanes, tensions grow. 

The songs are extremely well observed – from “Big Bottom” to “Tonight I’m Gonna Rock You Tonight” – and the detailed observations of rock-star behaviour are absolutely spot on. Every lyric and posture is perfectly judged. The facial expressions alone are priceless, perfectly capturing the pomposity of selfish rock stars living in a bubble and expecting to be worshipped for whatever they do – see the scene in which Nigel Tufnel complains about the sandwiches, for example. 

It’s a mark of the film’s brilliance that so many lines of dialogue – from “turning it up to 11” to “documentary or, if you will, rockumentary” – have entered the language. 

St. Elmo’s Fire (1985)


Fascinatingly 1980s “Brat Pack” drama about seven friends who have just graduated. They are about to embark upon adult lives, and they drink and smoke excessively while attempting to navigate their tangled relationships.

It’s possibly the template for Friends, but without the jokes and the strong writing. In fact, there’s something rather unappealing about the film’s self-consciousness.

Morally, it seems quite confused and the troubles encountered by these wealthy, spoiled kids – what we’d now call “first-world problems” – don’t seem especially important.

There’s a completely flawed thread about one of them (Emilio Estevez as Kirby) becoming obsessed with a medical student (Andie MacDowell). Something in the execution of this plot simply doesn’t ring true. It would have been a tighter storyline if he’d been infatuated with one of his six friends, pulling the focus back into the main group.

The seven main actors get equal billing in the credits (named alphabetically), which suggests there were ego and/or payment disputes in the background, but some of them are stronger than others. Demi Moore is probably the most credible as the cocaine-addicted party girl. Rob Lowe is hard to believe as the thrill-seeking, sax-playing Billy, who somehow had time to have a wife and child already. I also don’t believe Judd Nelson’s character would have liked Andrew McCarthy’s character, or that glamorous yuppie played by Ally Sheedy would have had time for earnest, frumpy girl played by Mare Winningham.

While there are some good lines (the script is better than it might have been), it’s ultimately as immature and shallow as its characters.

Five Easy Pieces (1970)


Superb drama. Robert Dupea is a moody, troubled drifter who runs away from commitment. When he learns that his father is unwell he travels back to his family home where he’s presented with truths about himself and his relationships that he has been trying to evade all his life.

This film is perfectly cast. Jack Nicholson is mesmerising in the main role. Karen Black is brilliant as Rayette, his waitress girlfriend – a Tammy Wynette fan he’s embarrassed by because she’s of a lower class than his musically gifted, well-educated family. Particularly strong is Lois Smith as Robert’s pianist sister Partita.

Issues of social status and identity slowly unfold, but there are moments of humour too. There’s a wonderful scene in which Robert picks up two hitchhikers. One of them (played by Helena Kallianiotes) is obsessed by dirt and talks about nothing else. The other, her friend, is played by a young Toni Basil. This has nothing to do with the plot but adds so much in terms of character. I love the fact that films of this era had the freedom to develop their writing in this way. Likewise, the climactic father-and-son scene offers no simple solutions or resolutions as it would if Five Easy Pieces had been made today.

When Harry Met Sally... (1989)


This romantic comedy directed by Rob Reiner isn’t up to his usual standards. Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan play the mutually attracted New Yorkers intent on staying just friends. There are some funny moments, but others fall flat. Billy Crystal emerges as difficult to like. I know that’s meant to be part of the character, but the problem is that I kept disliking him even after we were supposed to believe he had finally stopped being shallow and grown up.

Meg Ryan is as charming as ever and makes acting seem very natural. In particular, her crying scene – in which he hands her tissues and she tosses them over her shoulder – is brilliantly done. Carrie Fisher plays their friend (comically named Marie Fisher) and is also excellent. But overall, something was missing – chemistry, perhaps. Or maybe it’s just not believable enough.

Nora Ephron would go on to write funnier Meg Ryan films – Sleepless in Seattle (1993) and You’ve Got Mail (1998).

How Green Was My Valley (1941)


Slightly childish melodrama set in a Welsh mining village circa 1900. A local man, played by Roddy McDowall as a child, recalls his childhood growing up in a strict family united by their strong faith and work ethic. There’s life, death, forbidden romance, singing and (inevitably) mine-based tragedy.

While all of the dramatic elements in themselves are engrossing, there’s something extremely stilted about the way the film is made. There’s almost an am-dram quality to it. Not only can you see where the set ends and the painted backdrop begins, but there’s also a slowness and an unreal quality to most of the scenes. It clearly wasn’t filmed in Wales, either. The California sun beats down on the cast, and some of the accents are utterly absurd – often sounding Indian, Irish or even Dutch.

While it’s not exactly a great film, or even a good one, Maureen O’Hara is loveable as Angharad Morgan and Walter Pidgeon is impressive as the tormented priest in love with her. This romance is a thread running through the film and is far more interesting than the narrator’s digressions into authoritarian family life and awkward schooling.

Unresolved threads:
• Huw being in love with Bronwyn. Did he ever tell her or do anything about it?
• Huw being inexplicably unable to walk after falling in some cold water, then miraculously being able to walk again. How?
• Huw being bullied at school and learning to fight. Did his colleagues accept him?
• The school teacher being beaten up. What happened next? Were there really no repercussions?
• The invitation for the choir to sing before the queen? Did they ever do it?
• Two of the brothers going off to America. Were they ever heard from again?
• Two other brothers leaving home. Were they ever heard from again?
• Nasty deacon. Did he get his comeuppance?
• Angharad’s unexplained divorce. What happened?
...and most of all...
• Angharad and the priest. Did they get together or not?!