Intermezzo (1939)

Tepid and mostly uninvolving drama about a celebrated violinist (Leslie Howard) who falls for his young daughter’s piano teacher (Ingrid Bergman). It’s only an hour and nine minutes long, racing through scenes and events in a way that seems unsubtle and even childish.

Bergman is believable enough as a young woman getting out of her depth. She had already appeared in a Swedish version of the same film in 1936, and she appears entirely comfortable reprising the role. Leslie Howard, however, completely fails to convey the passion or confusion he is supposed to be experiencing. There’s a lack of nuance throughout and this prevents you engaging with the characters. Indeed, the family dog is given more personality than the violinist’s wife Margit (Edna Best).

Everything is resolved far too easily, suggesting that the emotional stakes were never very high. Even the one moment of true drama – a car accident – is quickly dealt with and made as unremarkable as all the other events.

Room (2015)

Extremely moving drama about a mother, Joy (Brie Larson), and her son, Jack (Jacob Tremblay), who are held captive in a tiny outhouse by an abductor. Joy was kidnapped seven years previously and later impregnated by her captor. This room is Jack’s entire world as a result of his being born and confined there. It is his only reality, but – thanks to Joy’s ingenious efforts to protect him from the true horror of their situation – it has become a sealed universe of play and learning. Every object in the room (or “Room”, as he calls it) takes on huge significance because space is so limited but time is so abundant. This is the opposite of the world beyond, of which Jack later observes: “I guess the time gets spread very thin like butter over all the world, the roads and houses and playgrounds and stores, so there’s only a little smear of time on each place, then everyone has to hurry on to the next bit.”

Room was adapted from the brilliant novel of the same name by Emma Donoghue, who also wrote the screenplay. The transition to screen is skilfully handled. The book is narrated by Jack, so we learn via his youthful perceptions how abusively they are being treated, and the child’s view of a miniature world is enthralling. The film doesn’t have this option, generally opting to show rather than tell, although you do hear occasional sections of Jack’s narration. Surprisingly, however, it does manage to recreate the oppressive feel of the novel.

Room is unbearably sad, especially since Jack demands so little from life beyond the love of his mother. You find yourself desperately rooting for the pair.

Ultimately, their story is both life-affirming and profound.

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.

Young Man with a Horn (1950)

Kirk Douglas stars as a gifted trumpet player in search of the mysterious “high note” of life that eludes him. It’s based on a novel by Dorothy Baker, which was inspired by the life of Bix Beiderbecke.

Hoagy Carmichael (who was real-life friends with Beiderbecke) and Doris Day play a pianist and singer who befriend him and also perform with him. And Lauren Bacall plays the trumpeter’s restless, troubled wife who cannot decide what she wants and envies his focus and sense of purpose.

It’s engaging and moving. On the down side, some important moments are glossed over: Douglas meets and marries Bacall so quickly that their mismatch seems inevitable from the beginning and it’s never clear what they saw in each other.

The ending feels particularly rushed and superficially resolved, but there’s still much that’s good about this drama. Harry James’ music is a delight. Doris Day may be as squeaky-clean as ever, but there’s a noir-ish element to the film that gives it an edgier dimension.

For a Few Dollars More (1965)

In Sergio Leone’s spaghetti western sequel to A Fistful of Dollars (1964), Clint Eastwood is once again the “man with no name” – although confusingly he’s also now called Manco. This is a more sophisticated attempt to do something similar to that first film, with several of the same actors appearing in different roles.

This time, there’s a rival bounty hunter played by Lee Van Cleef. My favourite scene involves the two men shooting each other’s hats in a macho display of one-upmanship. But then they team up to defeat a ruthless band of bank robbers (led by the unconvincing Gian Maria Volonté and also including a hunchback played by Klaus Kinski), and we eventually learn that they have very different motivations...

The music is again brilliantly scored by Ennio Morricone.

On the down side, there are some “comedy” moments that don’t work at all. These add a surreal weirdness to a story that is actually fairly brutal.

The commentary by film historian Christopher Frayling is insightful and well worth watching.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958)

Elizabeth Taylor and Paul Newman are both superb in this adaptation of the Tennessee Williams play. As you’d expect, there’s real dynamism in the script and these exceptional lead actors make the most of it.

Burl Ives plays “Big Daddy”, the father who never showed Brick enough love.

It’s moving and ultimately uplifting, with a strong thread of comedy and satire running through it as the various family relationships are examined and explored.

Thin Red Line (1998)

Ensemble film about WWII adapted from the 1962 James Jones novel. It presents multiple narrative perspectives. Unlike The Longest Day, it actually works. The all-star cast includes John Cusack, George Clooney, Nick Nolte, Sean Penn, John Travolta and Woody Harrelson, although Clooney and Travolta are barely there beyond brief cameos. Jim Caviezel and Ben Chaplin are especially strong.

It can be confusing at times, as the interior monologue switches between characters depending on who’s being shown on screen. Plus, the signposting of the wheres and whens of certain scenes can seem muddled.

It’s epic and expansive, also demonstrating a strong love of nature: there are long, lingering shots of wildlife and the long grass blowing in the wind. The action sequences are harrowing. And it builds up a philosophical depth as it goes along.

On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969)

After five films of Sean Connery as James Bond, George Lazenby steps in as 007 – smugly confident but not especially sparkly – for one time only.

The story gets off to a slow start with a fair bit of pottering around before the action kicks off. What is great in this film, however, is the girl Bond ends up falling for and even marrying. Unlike most of the females cast in these films, Diana Rigg is given a properly written role and a developed personality.

There are ludicrous moments, as always. The most absurd of these must be Bond walking around Blofeld’s secret base wearing a kilt and carrying a book on heraldry.

Telly Savalas is excellent as the villain: creepy but also oddly likeable. He brainwashes a bunch of young women wearing psychedelic clothes. And the action scenes – ski chase with machine guns, bobsleigh  chase, car chase in stock car race track – are exciting.

The tragic ending is so un-Bond-like that it seemed genuinely shocking.

Platoon (1986)

Oliver Stone’s first Vietnam war film seems trashy in places (the script could have been stronger), but it does a good job of storytelling. There are three main threads: the young soldier who loses his innocence (Charlie Sheen), two feuding sergeants (Willem Dafoe and Tom Berenger), and a wider narrative about the US forces being out of their depth in a conflict that made no sense to them. It’s gory and harrowing at times. Watching it so soon after Apocalypse Now meant it was difficult not to compare them, and Platoon has none of that masterpiece’s poetry or visual flair. It’s rather surreal that the star of this film is the son of the star of that film, almost as if Platoon is the sequel.

If you believe Full Metal Jacket, all new soldiers had their heads shaved. Why, then, did Charlie Sheen have long, 1980s-style hair?

Despite its flaws, Platoon builds to a satisfying resolution, and as an anti-war film it very effectively shows you how desperate and horrible it was for these young men.

The Hurt Locker (2008)

Jeremy Renner stars in an extremely suspenseful tale of bomb disposal set during the Iraq War in 2004. Unlike his predecessor, he recklessly ignores the protocols of his role and puts his colleagues in even greater danger. But he appears to be a genius at his work, functioning under the most intense pressures imaginable.

I like the way the film features a couple of big-name stars (Guy Pearce and Ralph Fiennes), only for them to be quickly done away with. I certainly wasn’t expecting that.

Anthony Mackie and Brian Geraghty are both excellent as the other parts of the bomb-disposal unit. Seeing their fear and panic close-up adds to the hair-raising spectacle.

As the film unfolds it increasingly takes on deeper, more profound questions about life and death. Perhaps wisely, director Kathryn Bigelow refrains from passing moral judgements and lets the actions speak for themselves. That said, there’s an inevitable US bias to the storytelling.

An incredibly gripping film that won’t easily be forgotten.

Elizabeth: The Golden Age (2007)

The sequel to Elizabeth is both trashier and more entertaining than that first film. Cate Blanchett and Geoffrey Rush successfully reprise their roles as the queen and her spymaster. And again Shekhar Kapur directs, shooting several scenes from overhead for no apparent reason.

It’s very “loose” with the facts. Why make up events when the real story is so interesting? And if you do invent a new plot, make sure it works. You see an assassination attempt on the queen that was foiled because Anthony Babington (Eddie Redmayne) didn’t have bullets in his gun, but this failure is never explained. Had Walsingham removed the bullets? Was Babington just careless? In reality, he was just one of the plotters and he never pointed a gun at her. So they invented this plot strand only to leave it unresolved.

The other big flaw is Clive Owen as Sir Walter Rayleigh. His motivations are unclear. Is he there to impregnate the queen’s handmaiden (Bess Throckmorton, played by Abbie Cornish) or does he have some deep connection with the queen herself? Or, given his made-up importance in defeating the Spanish Armada, was it all “for England”? Again, bearing in mind that the truth has been embellished, the least they could have done is to make his character work. There’s a “Sunday night TV” quality about him, and I kept thinking of David Essex in some old programme or other.

These points aside, it’s an enjoyable romp. And Cate Blanchett is always worth watching.

Elizabeth (1998)

Biopic of Queen Elizabeth I of England (1533–1603) detailing her ascendance to the throne and the various challenges to it that she overcame. It also details the workings of her inner circle and her private life alongside the progression of her public face as she fends off an endless stream of potential suitors and ultimately becomes the “virgin queen” of legend.

Cate Blanchett has a commanding presence in the title role, while Geoffrey Rush has menacing charisma as her adviser and spymaster Francis Walsingham. The all-star cast also includes Lily Allen, Richard Attenborough, Kathy Burke, Eric Cantona, Christopher Eccleston, Joseph Fiennes and John Gielgud. And Daniel Craig shows up as a murdering monk.

It’s enjoyable, even if it does sometimes lack context. You will get more out of it if you know your history.

Shekhar Kapur’s direction was sometimes conspicuous. He has a thing for overhead shots and these were used too often.

Apocalypse Now Redux (2001)

Francis Ford Coppola’s astonishing film deserves all the acclaim it has received. Set during the Vietnam War, but not really about the conflict as such, it details a mission by Captain Benjamin L. Willard (Martin Sheen) to locate and kill a rogue officer named Colonel Walter E. Kurtz (Marlon Brando). Kurtz has built an entire religion around himself and is seen as a threat to US forces. The story picks up on Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad.

It’s a stunning piece of cinema. The visuals are remarkable – again and again I was left wondering how something was filmed and how it could look so realistic.

The acting is terrific. Sheen is great as the troubled captain becoming obsessed with tracking down Kurtz. Robert Duvall is fascinatingly bonkers as the lieutenant colonel who just wants to go surfing, despite the explosions going off around him that he doesn’t even seem to notice. His scenes have rightly become iconic, from “I love the smell of napalm in the morning” to the moments when his men blast out Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries” from their helicopters as they invade the Viet Cong.

The soundtrack is also remarkable: I love the spooky electronic sounds that so perfectly set the ominous tone of the trip upriver.

You get to see a young Harrison Ford as Colonel G. Lucas – a nod to George Lucas, who nearly ended up directing the film. Thank goodness he didn’t. And Dennis Hopper plays a photojournalist who has been inducted into Kurtz’s cult.

I haven’t seen the original 1979 edit of the film so I can’t tell how different the Redux version is. But you can see that certain scenes – such as meeting the French colonials – weren’t needed for narrative purposes. That said, I do like the way they further enrich the experience of the film. It’s so rich and compelling that there’s space for additional material.

Certainly the best war film I have seen. It hammers home the point that no one is left undamaged by conflict.

Sylvia (2003)

Engaging biopic of Sylvia Plath, mainly focusing on her relationship with Ted Hughes and the decline of her mental health. Gwyneth Paltrow is fairly strong as the American writer in the lead role. Daniel Craig is pretty good as her famous husband except that the Yorkshire accent tends to come and go and it’s difficult to see “James Bond” as a poet. Also, both film-stars are too good-looking to seem like struggling writers.

It’s appropriately grim and grimy in its depiction of England in the early 1960s. Everything seems dimly lit and rather grubby.

I like the way the film presents poetry as such a powerful force. The scenes in which they read out their work and are urged by their friends to do it even faster help to position it as a raw and vital pursuit that’s full of life and energy.

Hughes emerges as a major contributing factor in the depression that led to Plath’s suicide. I don’t know how fair or accurate that is, but the film certainly took Sylvia’s side.

As the story leads to its inevitable conclusion you are left feeling sorry for this young woman who simply needed help (the kindly neighbour played by Michael Gambon wasn’t enough) and for the two children she left behind.

Boyhood (2014)

Dazzling drama written and directed by Richard Linklater (who also made the excellent Before... films). It was filmed across 12 years, so you see a family literally growing and growing older before your eyes. It’s uncanny and very powerful.

Ellar Coltrane plays the boy, who we get to know at various points from ages six to 18. Lorelei Linklater (the director’s daughter) is his smart, pushy sister. Patricia Arquette and Ethan Hawke play their divorced parents, trying their best in life and love and finding that just as difficult as we all do. All four of them turn in stunningly believable performances.

It’s very touching indeed – heartbreaking, funny and enthralling. There are so many threads and it’s an incredibly rich narrative, although never complicated. Each time-snapshot segment works like a short story in its own right, but then we leap forward a few weeks, months or years and see how each episode feeds into the next.

I can’t imagine how a project this ambitious could have been planned and executed so skilfully, but Linklater pulls it off.

Gilda (1946)

Rita Hayworth is hugely charismatic in the title role of this noir-ish melodrama. Glenn Ford is the small-time gambler she shares a love/hate past with, while George Macready plays the sinister new husband who tells her “Hate is the only thing that has ever warmed me”. (His best “friend” is a dagger-tipped cane.) It’s an intense love triangle set against a backdrop of the wealthy Argentinean underworld.

The script is perfect, with characters often cleverly conveying double meanings in their lines.

Hayworth singing “Put the Blame on Mame” in a slinky black dress is seductive and almost disturbingly magnetic.

Carol (2015)

Compelling drama set in the 1950s and adapted from Patricia Highsmith’s 1952 novel The Price of Salt.

Carol is going through a divorce and becomes besotted with a young female shop assistant. The two become friends and then more than friends. After Carol is denied custody of her daughter over Christmas, the pair take off on a road trip. But Carol’s estranged husband has other ideas...

Cate Blanchett is mesmerising in the lead role, making every glance or smile or gesture count. Rooney Mara is perfectly cast as the slightly awkward object of her desires. It’s both romantic and uneasy.

Todd Haynes’ film is beautifully shot, with several moments filmed through glass or given a dreamy, luxurious quality. Despite that, it functions as a gritty drama.

Diana (2013)

Unfairly savaged biopic of the Princess of Wales, dealing with the last two years of her life. During this time she gave the famous BBC interview that spilled the beans on the royal family and how unhappy she’d been. This was also the period in which she had an intense relationship with heart surgeon Hasrat Khan, and their love story forms the main narrative thread.

Naomi Watts is believable as Diana, expertly replicating mannerisms such as the eyelash flutter and tilt of the head. She successfully depicts a ludicrously famous icon who is both insecure and cocky, willing to play with her position of power. Naveen Andrews is charismatic as her lover. And as a love story it works well. On the down side, the character of Dodi Fayed (her new boyfriend, who died with her in the Paris underpass on 31st August 1997) is entirely undeveloped. He barely gets a line of dialogue.

Critics were right to point out that there's a “Sunday night TV drama” aspect to it – mainly visually. It lacks “cinematic” qualities and doesn’t give off the lavish feel you would expect from a story about a princess. But it certainly doesn’t deserve the trashing it received.

Diana was directed by Oliver Hirschbiegel. I realise I’m in a tiny minority by far preferring this film to his more celebrated Downfall.

Frantic (1988)

Tense, constantly gripping thriller directed by Roman Polanski. Harrison Ford plays an American doctor in Paris whose wife is kidnapped from their hotel. In the absence of any help from the police or the US embassy he sets out to find her himself, aided only by a pretty young drug smuggler called Michelle (Emmanuelle Seigner).

It’s a taut and exciting narrative, with the mystery steadily deepening as Ford's character begins to learn what’s happening. There are moments of black humour, too, as his situation becomes more and more dire. The scene in which he scrabbles around on a slippery rooftop is a highlight.

Music is by Ennio Morricone, excellently judged as ever, with additional tracks by Grace Jones.

A Fistful of Dollars (1964)

Spaghetti western directed by Sergio Leone and with music by Ennio Morricone. Clint Eastwood, the “man with no name”, rolls into town and discovers two warring family factions. He cleverly plays them off against each other, initiating a cycle of escalating violence.

The film is entertaining and enjoyable, despite the major distraction of all the dialogue (including Clint’s) being dubbed on afterwards. It’s visually striking and surprisingly gory for the time. Eastwood is effortlessly stylish as the poncho-wearing gunslinger, even after being badly beaten up.

Bullitt (1968)

Steve McQueen is detective Lieutenant Frank Bullitt, tasked with protecting a witness for US Senator Walter Chalmers (Robert Vaughn). But of course things don’t go to plan. McQueen, as usual in his films, looks good and is a powerfully brooding presence without having to say much. He rarely seems to spark off other characters, and he never gets much dialogue.

I liked Jacqueline Bisset as his girlfriend Cathy and wished she had been in it more.

It’s a nice drama with a spectacular car chase in the streets of San Francisco, but the ending is oddly flat and disappointing with nothing really resolved. I understand that they wanted to keep it downbeat, but it felt very unsatisfactory.

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?!