Back to the Future (1985)

Absolutely wonderful time-travel comedy starring Michael J. Fox as Marty McFly. He is accidentally sent 30 years into the past in a DeLorean modified by his friend Doc Brown (Christopher Lloyd). He then has two major problems to resolve. Not only does the car lack the plutonium it needs to get him “back to the future”, but also his presence in 1955 leads to wide-reaching ripples in the fabric of time itself. For example, instead of his mother (Lea Thompson) meeting his father (Crispin Glover), she falls for Marty instead. As events start heading towards an outcome in which the couple never date and marry, Marty and his siblings begin to fade from his family photograph. That’s silly and makes little sense (they would either have existed or not existed), but pretty much all of the clever plotting works perfectly if you accept a few basic leaps of faith.

The direction by Robert Zemeckis is lively and precise. Every detail matters and the dovetailing of events in 1955 and 1985 is ingenious indeed. The storytelling is so clear and uncluttered that a potentially complex and tangled narrative really works. It's both an exciting adventure and a warm-hearted love story. Plus, there are plenty of laughs.

Denial (2016)

Gripping account of the high-profile London court case between US historian Deborah Lipstandt and David Irving, the Holocaust denier who filed a libel suit against her.

Based on Lipstandt's memoir, History on Trial: My Day in Court with David Irving, this film is presented from her point of view. She’s played, fairly convincingly, by Rachel Weisz. Irving is played by Timothy Spall, who – in a transfixing performance – alternates between character traits that seem almost charming, a bit mad and quite terrifying. Both of these actors do wonders with what must have been extremely difficult material. Tom Wilkinson and Andrew Scott (who was “C” in the Bond film Spectre) play her heavy-drinking barrister and clinical-but-brilliant solicitor.

It’s a taut legal drama in which the stakes are incredibly high: if Irving had won, it would have given Holocaust denial far greater cultural weight. It’s also a personal drama about a writer who has to let go of what she believes most strongly and place all her trust in her team to seek justice.

Marie Antoinette (2006)

A stunningly vivid masterpiece written and directed by Sofia Coppola. Kirsten Dunst is absolutely excellent in the title role. It begins with her portraying the 14-year-old Archduchess of Austria being sent to marry the Dauphin of France (Jason Schwartzman), who would become Louis XVI. It ends during the French Revolution, with the royal couple being taken away from the Palace of Versailles to be executed. Admirably it doesn’t need to show those grisly last moments because the suggestion of them is powerful enough.

The film presents a surprisingly sympathetic and non-judgemental portrait of a young woman in an impossible situation, while skilfully building up the wider context that led to her downfall.

Visually, it’s remarkable. There’s a vivid quality to the colours and every scene could be freeze-framed as a poster. It’s richly sumptuous without merely looking pretty.

In keeping with Marie Antoinette’s “unconventional” ways, the film has an urgency that’s boosted by the prominent new-wave and post-punk soundtrack (Siouxsie & The Banshees, Bow Wow Wow, Adam & The Ants, The Cure, New Order, The Strokes). This refreshing, edgy vitality really brings it alive. It’s about as far from the stilted, fusty tropes of a Merchant Ivory-type costumer as it’s possible to get.

Steve Coogan judges it perfectly as Austrian diplomat Florimond Claude, comte de Mercy-Argenteau. Marianne Faithfull has gravitas as Empress Maria-Theresa. Rose Byrne is terrific as the garrulous Yolande de Polastron, Duchess of Polignac.

It’s a joy from start to finish.

Inside Llewyn Davis (2013)

I really disliked this Coen Brothers so-called “comedy drama” about a folk singer in New York in 1961.
1. It looks horrible: washed-out and grey – just not a visual treatment I can enjoy. I understand that this was meant to mirror a washed-out and grey existence, but it felt heavy-handed and self-conscious.
2. Everyone and everything was made as ugly as possible. Why?
3. With the exception of Oscar Isaac as the character in the film title, no one was likeable in any way.
4. There’s an entirely superfluous sub-plot about a road trip to Chicago that promises lots and goes absolutely nowhere.
5. I have an aversion to John Goodman. He’s always the same in everything he does and he’s never as funny as he’s meant to be. Just the same annoying tics. 
6. The comedy in general was extremely weak. No laughs, or even wry smiles, and opportunities to satirise were overlooked.
7. Unfortunately, the drama was weak also – mainly because of point 3, above.
8. Carey Mulligan’s character was so objectionable that you couldn’t care in the slightest about her problems.
9. There’s something deeply soporific about it – the long, ponderous performance scenes and the consistently unsparkling dialogue. Even the endless swearing lacked impact.
10. The directors take a fascinating time and place in American history and crush all the life out of it. Or as Suzanne Vega stated: “I feel they took a vibrant, crackling, competitive, romantic, communal, crazy, drunken, brawling scene and crumpled it into a slow brown sad movie.” The arrival of Bob Dylan at the end to usher in a new era was too little too late.

A Bigger Splash (2015)

Superb drama in which Tilda Swinton plays a pop star recovering from a throat operation in seclusion on an Italian island. Matthias Schoenaerts is her partner, a recovered alcoholic who survived a suicide attempt. Their lives are turned upside down again when the singer's former lover and promoter (Ralph Fiennes) arrives and moves in, bringing with him a girl who may or may not be his 22-year-old daughter (Dakota Johnson). Tensions soon develop, with far-reaching consequences for all four of them.

Ralph Fiennes’ performance is astonishing. Incredibly charismatic and bursting with energy in every frame, he absolutely nails it and never lets up. There’s a perfect scene in which he dances to “Emotional Rescue” by the Rolling Stones.

The film is beautifully and strikingly shot, with an unusual visual flair. Director Luca Guadagnino knows exactly what to linger on, when and for how long. It’s full of nuance. The diverse music is remarkable, too, throwing you into unexpected moods.

My only criticism is that I was never convinced by Tilda Swinton as a rock star. She doesn’t look right and she doesn’t project the kind of magnetism you would expect. You do see her in flashback, and there’s even a moment when she’s seen on stage, but you never learn what made her famous. The fact that she can only speak in rasping whispers, owing to her recent surgery, adds to the problem. She has little to project beyond contorted facial expressions. She’s certainly not a Chrissie Hynde. She’s not even an Annie Lennox.

Almost Famous (2000)

Cameron Crowe wrote and directed this account of his time as a young journalist on tour with a rock band. It’s a sentimental and sanitised portrait of the music industry, but that makes for a hugely entertaining film. I love it.

Patrick Fugit is perfect as the wide-eyed, 15-year-old writer William, mentored by Creem journalist Lester Bangs (Philip Seymour Hoffman) and desperate to follow his dreams as he takes off with the up-and-coming (fictional) rockers Stillwater. Kate Hudson is expressive and sympathetic as Penny Lane, a 16-year-old groupie who also follows the band and learns too late that she’s being used by them. Frances McDormand is amusing and compelling as the overbearing mother who’s convinced her son will be lost to a world of drugs and decadence.

The soundtrack features Led Zeppelin, The Seeds, Simon & Garfunkel, Yes and Neil Young among others. I’m not a fan of Elton John, but the scene in which everyone sings along to his “Tiny Dancer” is warm and touching. The music by Stillwater sounds authentically 1973, if a little generic.

“I have to go home,” says William, at one point.
“You are home,” replies Penny Lane.

Wall Street (1987)

There’s something not quite right about Oliver Stone’s stock-market thriller. Michael Douglas is actually fairly compelling as the corrupt Gordon Gecko and his much-discussed “Greed is good” speech remains an iconic bit of cinema. But Charlie Sheen is woeful as the young upstart who initially wants to be Gecko and ultimately wants to ruin him. Can Charlie Sheen act? Seemingly charmless, humourless and lacking emotional range, he’s almost exactly the same here as he was in Platoon. He simply does not convince and it's unclear whether or not you are meant to be on his side.

Daryl Hannah is oddly underwritten as Sheen’s interior-designer girlfriend. James Spader isn’t given enough of a role, either. He would have been a better choice for the main part. But the script is slightly clichéd all round.

The best things about the film are Martin Sheen, the on-screen and real-life father of Charlie, and the New York skylines and scenery. Terence Stamp is OK, but – absurdly – he’s made to say “mate” and “bloke” to accentuate his Englishness.

There’s a good film in there somewhere, but Oliver Stone – as usual, intent on making a Big Statement – cannot tease it out.

Cosmopolis (2012)

A super-rich, super-powerful businessman in search of a haircut travels across New York City in a hi-tech limousine. Strange, scary, violent things happen. He’s joined at various points by expert advisors – on financial markets, on modern theoretical thinking, and (by Juliette Binoche) on buying art.

This disturbing film is David Cronenberg’s adaptation of Don DeLillo’s short novel from 2003. It’s difficult to work out if it’s more Cronenbergian than DeLillo-esque. The former’s deliberately ugly visuals and horror elements are distinctive. The latter’s ultra-dry, play-like dialogue is also prominent, although it’s less funny here than it is on the page – even though (or perhaps because) the film adaptation is fairly faithful to the novel.

Robert Pattinson stars as Eric Packer and Sarah Gadon plays his “wife”, although their marriage is more of a farcical abstraction than a reality – another of the deliberately absurd elements that push the narrative into surreal and existential territory.

The problem with the film is that it succeeds so well in its aim to be cold and cerebral that you wonder what you might actually gain from watching it. If the characters don’t care about anything, why should we care about them? And therefore it starts to feel as shallow and empty as its subject matter.

Silver Linings Playbook (2012)

Adapted by David O. Russell from a novel by Matthew Quick, Silver Linings Playbook is a warm-hearted drama that somehow finds comedy and romance in mental illness without trivialising it.

Pat (Bradley Cooper) is a bipolar man who was placed in a psychiatric hospital for assaulting the teacher having an affair with his wife. Released to live at home with his mother (Jacki Weaver) and father (Robert De Niro), he’s intent on getting back with his wife, which you sadly learn is a delusion, and when he meets Tiffany (Jennifer Lawrence) he believes he’s found a way to engineer a reunion. His father wrestles with OCD and superstitions, which are brought into focus by his love of the Philadelphia Eagles and his work in illegal bookmaking. Plus, he’s had his own violent episodes. You soon realise where Pat’s troubles stem from.

The plot progresses in various threads and resolves them all wonderfully. There’s sparking dialogue, considerable wit and remarkable acting.

It’s a treat to hear "Girl from the North Country" sung by Bob Dylan and Johnny Cash, accompanying a tender collage scene in which Cooper and Lawrence learn to dance together. The strong soundtrack also includes the White Stripes.

How amazing that you can feel moved by a film in which the main character goes jogging in a black bin liner, but Silver Linings Playbook is something very special. I’ve seen it three or four times now and it never fails to move and amuse.

American Hustle (2013)

If you like the novels of Elmore Leonard, you will almost certainly enjoy this neatly plotted crime thriller. A couple of con-artists and an FBI agent try to out-con one another amid an emerging love triangle that complicates matters further. The lead actors are so good that they are a joy to watch. Amy Adams has sparkly chemistry alongside both Christian Bale and Bradley Cooper. Jennifer Lawrence is a treat, as ever – especially in the scene in which she sings along to “Live and Let Die” in a manner that seems genuinely unhinged. Jeremy Renner is compelling as the corrupt mayor regretfully framed by Bale, who has become great friends with him. The 1970s fashions and music are expertly chosen and the period detail feels perfectly done. It’s funny, too, but the comedy is as black as it gets.

There’s not a single scene or line that doesn’t move the plot forwards or deepen the characterisation. It’s funny, too. The team of director David O. Russell plus Cooper, Lawrence and Robert De Niro also made The Silver Linings Playbook and Joy. These people truly know what they are doing.

Hannah and Her Sisters (1986)

Charming New York comedy written and directed by Woody Allen. It examines the lives and relationships of three sisters, played by Mia Farrow, Barbara Hershey and Dianne Wiest. Their husbands (or ex-husbands) are played by Michael Caine, Max von Sydow and Woody Allen, while Carrie Fisher is woefully underused as a family friend.

As with most Woody Allen films it’s intricately plotted, with wit, sophistication and emotion, but unusually for his work a few things seemed slightly unresolved. What happened to the architect that Dianne Wiest and Carrie Fisher were both going to the opera with? Did they both decide not to date him? It felt like a scene was missing. Also, there’s a moment in which Barbara Hershey’s character Lee is heading to an AA meeting. Then later she is seen dancing with Michael Caine and enjoying a glass of wine. Did he get her back on the booze and, if so, shouldn’t the story have picked up on this? Or was that a continuity mistake? These points aside, it’s a thought-provoking drama that’s resolved in a very satisfactory way.

A View to a Kill (1985)

Roger Moore plays James Bond for the seventh and final time. He looks too old for the role (Q and Moneypenny aren’t getting any younger, either), but despite that it’s a better film than I recalled.

Christopher Walken plays Max Zorin, a demented tycoon who plots to flood and destroy Silicon Valley in order to control the world market in microchips. Grace Jones is his right-hand woman. Unfortunately, she is given almost no dialogue and so spends most of the film merely looking fashionable and angry.

There is a genuinely tense and dramatic finale at San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge, involving Bond dangling by a rope from an airship, which is not for vertigo sufferers. There’s also a surprisingly brutal scene in which Zorin sprays miners with machine-gun fire while laughing his head off.

Tanya Roberts plays a slightly weedy geologist called Stacey. And Patrick Macnee plays a horse trainer named Sir Godfrey Tibbett.

There are plenty of ridiculous moments, as you’d expect. The most absurd is a motorised iceberg that Bond uses as a boudoir in Siberia. Or maybe it’s when Bond quickly cooks a quiche.

I’m a little saddened that I have now seen all of the films, but at least there’s the forthcoming (much delayed) No Time to Die to look forward to.

Blue Jasmine (2013)

The best Woody Allen film for a long time, although that may be damning it with faint praise, Blue Jasmine stars Cate Blanchett as a wealthy socialite whose life falls apart when her husband (Alec Baldwin) is imprisoned for fraud. Battling panic and depression, she goes to live with her sister in San Francisco (Sally Hawkins) in order to start a new life.

The premise sounds bleak, but there’s plenty of black comedy in this supremely well-observed study of class and downward mobility. Woody Allen’s pacing and construction are very solid, with expert handling of extended flashback sequences, and he really knows how to tell a story and reveal a character.

Blanchett gives one of her greatest ever performances. She’s twitchy and on the edge, but – as per the demands of her character – also elegant and hugely appealing. You can see the conflict and turmoil in every facial expression.

Blade Runner: The Final Cut (2007)

Ridley Scott’s masterpiece (originally released in 1982) is also Harrison Ford’s greatest film. In the Los Angeles of 2019, a cop has to track down and terminate four “more human than human” robots (or “replicants”) who have turned murderous as their four-year lifespan is about to expire. It’s wonderful on so many levels:
• The super-atmospheric soundtrack by Vangelis.
• The dark, dank visuals that so convincingly create a world and which have proved so influential on other films.
• The way it plays with genre. Is it sci-fi, horror, film noir, existential drama or a detective story? It’s all of those.
• The perfect cast: Rutger Hauer and Daryl Hannah are so convincing that you never once doubt that they are synthetic beings. Sean Young is also perfectly not-quite-right as the replicant who believes she’s human until all her illusions are crushed.
• The philosophical depth of it. What is life? What is humanity? How should we best use the little time we have?
• The exciting plot that builds to a remarkable and unexpected resolution.
• The restraint of it. No one over-acts. And Harrison Ford looks genuinely frightened when he’s being pursued. It’s the opposite of a shoot-’em-up cop film, or rather an extremely sophisticated version of one.

This is the third version of Blade Runner I’ve seen and they are all valuable in their own ways.