The Doors (1991)

I like The Doors (the group) and have always been curious about how they would be portrayed on film. Unfortunately, Oliver Stone’s “impressionistic” biopic of Jim Morrison (which shouldn’t really be called The Doors at all) is a bit of a disaster. 

Val Kilmer emulates Morrison’s bodily movements fairly well, and radiates a certain “rock star” charisma. I like Meg Ryan as his girlfriend, too, and she may be the best thing in the film. But in terms of a script, neither of these actors have anything to get their teeth into. There’s very little dialogue in general, and there’s way too much Doors music crammed into every scene. Even the courtroom moment, which was potentially an interesting change of pace and tone, is drowned out by more Doors on the soundtrack. The result is a complete lack of dramatic tension. 

I don’t mind it being deeply pretentious – what’s wrong with being pretentious? (as Brian Eno asked) – but I do mind it being lazy, clichéd filmmaking. The Doors offers an almost childish version of “the 1960s”. A scene featuring Andy Warhol and Nico is cartoonishly shoddy. Plus, there’s little sense of the group’s career arc. 

Ultimately, Oliver Stone seems to be too in love with Jim Morrison and his myth to even attempt to present a rounded portrait of him.

Goodfellas (1990)

Martin Scorsese’s adaptation of Nicholas Pileggi’s book Wiseguy is a beautifully filmed masterpiece. Unlike Casino, it’s presented from the perspective of a character that you can relate to. Through Henry Hill (Ray Liotta), we see inside the world of the mafia and – crucially – why it initially seems so appealing. 

It’s about many things; the mafia, obviously, but also family, marriage and changing times in the USA.

Scorsese manages to pull off certain effects (freeze frames, a tiny bit of fourth-wall speaking to camera at the end) without it ever seeming tricksy. The characters seem entirely real. It’s also improbably funny – see Joe Pesci’s character's relationship with his mother (played by Scorsese’s own mother), or the obsession with food (Henry asking his brother to keep stirring the sauce as his life’s falling apart). And Robert De Niro is at his very best.

Although it’s multilayered, it’s also superbly lucid storytelling. You know what’s going on and why, even as the film constantly surprises you. Fantastic music choices too.

Donnie Darko (2001)

Richard Kelly’s deeply enigmatic, fascinating film straddles psychological thriller and horror-tinged mind-bender. Donnie is a troubled teenager who encounters a creature in a rabbit costume. This creature tells him that the world will end in 28 days, 6 hours, 42 minutes and 12 seconds. As that countdown progresses, he continues to visit the boy and advise him on his actions, which become increasingly extreme. 

Meditations on the nature of time, reality and identity are set against the backdrop of an American suburb. The film develops several other strands: Patrick Swayze is the too-good-to-be-true motivational speaker Jim Cunningham, who has a polarising effect on the town, while Drew Barrymore is a school teacher too open-minded for the culture of the school. There’s also lots about Donnie’s family, who love him without understanding him. 

The ending can be taken multiple ways and I’m not sure you’re even meant to fully “understand” it. Instead, you are left with a glimpse into a powerful, multilayered world beneath or behind the one we take for granted. 

Jake Gyllenhaal is superb as the main character. His face has to convey menace, fear, amusement and confusion, and does so brilliantly. Katharine Ross is excellent as Donnie’s psychiatrist, Dr. Lillian Thurman. But, as with all great films, there’s not a single performance that could be improved upon.

Casino (1995)

Lengthy, sometimes dense and extremely violent Martin Scorsese crime thriller. 

Robert De Niro and Joe Pesci play mafia men sent from Chicago to Las Vegas, scamming money off a casino’s profits for the bosses back home. They become rivals and enemies, which is a problem because Pesci’s character is essentially a psychopath. Meanwhile, Sharon Stone is an ex-prostitute who marries De Niro but is still attached to her pimp boyfriend played by James Woods.

It’s similar to Goodfellas in terms of subject matter and tone, but that film is far more appealing because it has a character you can relate to. There’s no one in Casino that you can identify with at all. Also, the violence is really disturbing – especially the head-in-a-vice and buried-alive scenes. I’m not sure I will ever get those images out of my mind.

The use of music was a little excessive. Countless great songs are jammed in, which is fun, but sometimes it's at the expense of light and shade. I craved a little more space.

De Niro is as good as ever, but it remains a flawed film that seems like it could have been a masterpiece and somehow didn’t turn out that way.

A Star Is Born (1954)

Problematic yet enjoyable melodrama starring Judy Garland and James Mason. He’s Norman Maine, a successful actor with a drink problem. She’s Esther Blodgett, an up-and-coming singer. He makes her famous and they get married, but both of those life changes quickly become complicated. 

There are several odd things about it. Certain scenes have been lost and are represented on the DVD simply by on-set stills backed by the original audio. It’s very difficult to absorb these parts as part of the narrative. 

Also, Judy Garland’s fame as a singer means that the film-makers took every opportunity to cram in more of her singing. The extended “film within a film” interlude doesn’t really work, but it could have done if they’d simply cut back to Norman and Esther’s reactions as they watched the show from the theatre. 

Too little happens in the first hour: her talent and his drinking are established in the very first scene, then there’s a lot of filler before that story is picked up again. It’s oddly unbelievable as a romance, and there's very little chemistry between the pair.

On the plus side, the two leads are superb. Mason has just the right mixture of charismatic appeal and troubled “dark side”. You can see and feel his pain as his character declines. And it’s extremely colourful and vivid, with a particular emphasis on red and pink shades. But I was surprised to find that overall it was far less compelling than the Gaga/Cooper remake.

Beverly Hills Cop (1984)

Highly likeable crime comedy. 

Eddie Murphy stars as the endlessly cool, magnetic Axel Foley, a Detroit cop investigating his friend’s shooting. His enquiries take him to a Beverly Hills art dealer who turns out to be dealing in other things too. Steven Berkoff is genuinely menacing as the villain, which is a surprise because he was so awful as General Orlov in Octopussy.

There are a lot of laughs, but it still works as a thriller. Murphy’s presence is so powerful that he’s just a pleasure to watch, and the film has wisely been constructed around his huge, warm personality. It’s worth seeing just to hear his laugh.

The theme tune, “Axel F” by Harold Faltermeyer, keeps popping up and is a welcome inclusion.

Water (1985)

Michael Caine plays the Governor of the (fictional) Caribbean island of Cascara. The generally quiet, happy life on this remote British colony is interrupted when it’s discovered that there’s a potentially lucrative natural supply of mineral water beneath the ground. Suddenly, everyone from US oil magnates and the British Prime Minister (Maureen Lipman as Margaret Thatcher) to Cuban guerrillas and a French water business want a stake in Cascara’s future. 

The cast features many actors known from TV roles, including Billy Connolly, Leonard Rossiter (in his final performance), Fulton Mackay, Ruby Wax and Fred “Herman Munster” Gwynne. 

I’m not a fan of Connolly, but thankfully he’s fairly restrained in this part – partly because his character has vowed to communicate only via song. On the down side, there’s a long, cringeworthy scene in which he plays on stage with a band including George Harrison, Ringo Starr and Eric Clapton. Half of the Beatles and the world’s most famous living guitarist, and all they could come up with was a snug, dreary, tepid mess. 

That aside, it’s a playful, good-natured comedy that’s both intelligent and very silly. I like the way the various plot threads come together. At its best it recalls a less subtle and sophisticated version of Local Hero, particularly for the strong sense of community it develops.

Trading Places (1983)

John Landis comedy starring Dan Aykroyd as Winthorpe, a wealthy commodities broker, and Eddie Murphy as Valentine, a poor street hustler. The social positions of these diametrically opposed individuals are switched because of a wager – hence the clever pun in the title. Valentine rises up in the firm while Winthorpe becomes a down-and-out. This cruel bet is staged by the Duke brothers (Ralph Bellamy and Don Ameche), who own the business and treat their employees as mere playthings. 

Denholm Elliott is the smart butler who is initially in on the scam, but who then helps Winthorpe and Valentine to outwit the Dukes. Jamie Lee Curtis is a “hooker with a heart of gold” character who helps Winthorpe when no one else will.

It turns briefly ludicrous when we get to the gorilla episode, but otherwise the plot plays out in a very satisfying way – until the ending. I was slightly disappointed that when our heroes get their own back, they merely enjoy their millions. They don’t do anything to reject the privilege, injustice and racism that determined their fortunes. Instead, Trading Places takes a lazier path and observes the usual 1980s film tropes in praise of upward mobility. 

That point aside, it’s sharp and funny. And all of the leads are superb.

Shiner (2000)

Tough Brit crime thriller about a boxing promoter, Billy “Shiner” Simpson (Michael Caine), whose fortunes are hanging in the balance. Billy has gambled his (and his daughters’) financial future on a match that happens to feature his own son, the “Golden Boy”, against a tough US fighter. And his son is absolutely terrified.

A gritty, violent drama that quickly escalates into something harrowing, Shiner tackles issues of class, the meaning of family, and American versus British ways of life. It also works as a sort of Shakespearean tragedy.

The film was poorly received and that’s a great shame because Caine is stunning in the lead role – completely convincing as a tough guy whose life is beginning to unravel.

Without a Clue (1988)

Amusing and intelligent spin on Sherlock Holmes, starring Michael Caine as the famous detective. The twist is that this Holmes is a total buffoon – merely an actor hired by Dr. Watson (Ben Kingsley), and it’s Watson who has to do all the hard work of solving mysteries. But of course Holmes wins all the public adoration anyway, causing a degree of tension between the two. 

The plot deals with arch villain Moriarty's scheme to print fake bank notes. It’s mainly set in London but there’s an inconsequential detour to Lake Windermere, possibly just to get in some “tourist brochure” scenery.

Lysette Anthony is reasonably appealing as the young woman both Holmes and Watson are attracted to, but of course Leslie isn’t quite what she seems.

It’s very amiable and surprisingly funny, with quite a few laugh-out-loud moments based on Holmes’ ineptitude.

The Statement (2003)

Directed by Norman Jewison, this drama was adapted from a novel by Brian Moore, which was itself based on events relating to real-life Vichy French police official Paul Touvier. 

Pierre Brossard (Michael Caine) was a Nazi collaborator, and has been at large in France for nearly 50 years. He has been protected by loyal Catholics and others, but when a lawyer (Tilda Swinton) and a colonel in the National Gendarmerie (Jeremy Northam) start to pursue him he’s forced to take more extreme measures.  

Caine is absolutely excellent as a man plagued by guilt and wracked with psychic pain, yet someone who is also still a self-interested racist bigot. I could totally believe his character as he lurches – with his fervent faith and his heart problems – from one crisis to another. 

The narrative works well, with some fairly dramatic moments. The only unsatisfying element is that it’s never quite explained why so many people go to such lengths to defend the indefensible. Yes, the various priests were worried that their own crimes might be revealed, but how does that apply in a wider sense? It seems like there’s a joined-up conspiracy to protect him, involving the Church, members of the police force and government officials, some of whom have little connection to the events of 1944.

The diverse cast also includes Alan Bates, Ciarán Hinds, John Neville and Charlotte Rampling.