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.

Quicksand (2003)

Martin Raikes (Michael Keaton) plays an American bank investigator who is framed for murder by ruthless thugs using a Monaco film studio to hide their various crimes. Lela Forin (Judith Godreche) is a naive employee of the crooks, while Jake Mellows (Michael Caine) is a past-his-prime actor they are using to keep up appearances. 

For a direct-to-video thriller, it’s pretty good. The two Michaels both deliver to a reasonable standard. There’s drama and tension, and the plot offers a few surprises. Caine seems underused, but his increased presence in the final quarter adds humour and depth to proceedings. 

Kathleen Wilhoite is strong as Keaton’s pregnant PA. On the down side, the villains weren’t given much in the way of character.

I was hooked throughout, even if there were occasions when it was necessary not to ask too many questions of the plot.

Cabaret (1972)

A stunning musical drama.

The rise of the Nazi party forms the backdrop to the relationship between a couple who meet at a boarding house in Berlin in 1931 during the Weimar Republic. She (Liza Minnelli) is a talented cabaret singer who dreams of becoming a film star. He (Michael York) is an English academic. Then they encounter a wealthy businessman (Helmut Griem), who changes their whole dynamic and sets them each on a different course. 

Minnelli is radiant and magnetic. She inhabits every scene so fully that it’s impossible to imagine anyone playing the part better than she does. 

It’s brilliantly directed by Bob Fosse, with the musical numbers often cleverly juxtaposed with jarring images – such as someone being beaten by Nazis. 

The characters are sympathetic and three-dimensional, and there's really nothing you could add or remove to make this film any better.

Serena (2014)

Gripping drama that becomes progressively more hair-raising. 

It’s 1929 and George Pemberton (Bradley Cooper) runs a timber business in North Carolina. When he falls in love with a forthright young woman named Serena (Jennifer Lawrence) and brings her into the company, everything changes. She’s haunted by a tragedy in her past and also by the existence of George’s child with another local woman. He is haunted by a crime she encourages him to commit. Before long, everything falls apart. 

This film got heavily criticised for various reasons, none of which I would recognise as being flaws. The characters are perfectly drawn and their motivations are made clear. The storytelling is lucid, thanks to Susanne Bier’s solid direction. The remote location looks great, too, despite the use of the sort of filters I usually find distracting. The film does become melodramatic, it’s true, but that seems entirely in keeping with their situation as their problems swiftly escalate.

The International (2009)

Satisfyingly unformulaic thriller. 

Clive Owen and Naomi Watts play the cutely named investigators Salinger and Whitman, who try to bring down the International Bank of Business and Credit (IBBC). 

It’s fast-paced and very nicely shot, with a stylish take on locations in Berlin, Milan, New York and Istanbul. In the case of Istanbul, the exact same area – the rooftops of the Grand Bazaar – would later be used for a motorbike chase in Skyfall (2012). The most dramatic section is an extended shoot-out in the NYC Guggenheim Museum, painstakingly replicated just for this film. 

The script avoids cliché and it’s refreshing that the lead pair do not end up becoming a couple. Both in terms of their personal lives and the corruption their work exposes, there are no easy solutions offered. But the very existence of the film emphasises the immense, insidious power of global finance and the way banks drive the behaviour of governments and determine the outcome of global conflicts. 

Watts is always reliable, and impresses throughout. Owen, meanwhile, surprises with a blend of toughness and vulnerability that’s just right for this particular story.

An Ideal Husband (1999)

Charming and entertaining adaptation of Oscar Wilde’s 1895 play starring Rupert Everett, Jeremy Northam, Cate Blanchett, Julianne Moore and Minnie Driver. With source material and actors that strong it would be difficult to go wrong, and sure enough director Oliver Parker makes the most of both. 

Moore is especially good as the scheming Laura Cheveley, intent on blackmailing a government minister. Driver is appealing as Mabel Chiltern, although for some reason she seems too “modern” to fit into the era that was being evoked. Everett gets it just about right, pitching his character somewhere between affable buffoon and trusty good sort.

It’s wittily and nimbly constructed. It works both as a piece of lighthearted froth and as a fairly engaging study of human nature in its various forms.

A Star Is Born (2018)

Highly watchable drama that remakes and subtly updates the 1937, 1954 and 1976 versions of the story. 

Struggling singer Ally (Lady Gaga) falls in love with a famous musician (Bradley Cooper, who also directs). He’s on the way down, career-wise, and is struggling with tinnitus and drink/drug issues. She’s on the way up, helped by him but quickly becoming a superstar in her own right. 

It’s touching because Gaga and Cooper seem to convey real love for each other. I found it highly believable, even if he’s given greater psychological depth than she is. They both offer a touching vulnerability and plenty of charm, and so the scenes in which they appear together are always compelling.

There’s a lot of music in the film – perhaps too much for it to work as a “serious” drama – but the performance segments are all thoroughly enjoyable in themselves.

North by Northwest (1959)

Enjoyable Alfred Hitchcock thriller starring Cary Grant, Eva Marie Saint and James Mason. 

An advertising executive is mistaken for a dangerous agent, and ends up being pursued across the USA by a ruthless team of criminals.

As usual, Hitchcock makes the most of shadows and unusual angles to enhance the drama. But those tricks are slightly undermined by the unusually artificial-looking brightness of some of the scenes. Also, the silly “comedy” moments with Cary Grant’s mother (played by Jessie Royce Landis, who’s clearly too young) fall flat and stand out as awkwardly jarring. Likewise, a drink-driving scene ends up being oddly comical and you’re left unsure quite how you are supposed to take it.

The iconic Mount Rushmore is an inspired choice of location for the place where the action plays out and the ending is genuinely thrilling.

Seven Years in Tibet (1997)

Drama based on real events. 

Brad Pitt plays Austrian mountain climber Heinrich Harrer, who abandons a pregnant wife to summit Nanga Parbat. But then World War II begins and he is held in a prisoner-of-war camp. His wife files for divorce, so he has little to return home to, but he escapes and makes it to the Tibetan capital city of Lhasa. There, he becomes tutor to (and friend of) the 14th Dalai Lama. The film details his gradual shift to a more caring, sharing kind of guy after years of living fairly selfishly. 

It’s rich and colourful, but there are flaws. Pitt is oddly unconvincing. Maybe it’s his accent. Or maybe it’s his haircut. But I struggled to believe he was an Austrian climber, and struggled further to believe the spiritual development the film told us (rather than showed us) took place. Also, the “action” moves too slowly. Parts of the narrative look nice but just aren’t very interesting. 

For much of the story, Heinrich is accompanied by colleague Peter Aufschnaiter – first a rival and later a friend – but that part too fails to come alive in the hands of David Thewlis, and their relationship never gains the gravitas it’s supposed to.

Given that Harrer’s actual life story seems fairly remarkable, it’s a shame that this account somehow fails to capture the essence of what makes it so notable.

A Shock to the System (1990)

Graham Marshall (Michael Caine) works as an advertising executive in New York. After losing out on a promotion, he sets off for home and ends up accidentally killing a man in a minor scuffle by pushing him onto the subway tracks. No one else witnesses what happens, so he walks away from the scene without repercussions. This is a moment that profoundly changes his outlook, offering him a strange kind of liberation. Before long, he’s considering murder as a way to get what he wants in his personal life and also in terms of his professional ambitions. 

Caine is suitably creepy as a seemingly reasonable man who turns into a killer. Elizabeth McGovern is believable as the naive, admiring girl who ends up getting a little too close to him. And Peter Riegert convinces as the cocky, competent boss who takes the job that Graham assumed was his. 

There’s both a delicious kind of grim black comedy and enough dramatic tension to keep you hooked. The film also makes a point about the difference between the wealthy and the very poor, and between the young and the old. 

The ending isn’t what you might expect, but it does satisfy.

The Romantic Englishwoman (1975)

Lewis Fielding (Michael Caine) is a successful novelist. When his wife Elizabeth (Glenda Jackson) takes a trip to Baden-Baden to “find herself” and meets a thief and drug smuggler named Thomas (Helmut Berger), Lewis experiences intense jealousy. Then after Elizabeth returns to England, Thomas invites himself into the couple’s home and slowly but surely begins to interfere with various aspects of their lives. 

Directed by Joseph Losey and co-written by Tom Stoppard and Thomas Wiseman, it’s a brilliant, play-like drama focusing on the relationships between three characters. Thomas is brilliantly ambiguous. We learn almost nothing about him other than how he affects the family he moves in with. At times it felt like it could turn into a sort of horror story, but it was too subtle and nuanced for that. It’s partly about gender roles. It’s also about how the veneer of a wealthy middle-class existence can hide discontent and despair. 

Caine is as watchable as ever, while Jackson is superb as a mother and housewife who seems to have everything and yet feels hopelessly trapped in her world of luxury.

Silver Bears (1978)

In this mildly amusing banking thriller adapted from a novel by Paul Erdman, Michael Caine stars as a monetary wizard who creates a Swiss bank to finance a silver mine in Iran. But all is not as it seems and he ends up having to out-scam the crooks who are attempting to scam him. 

It’s flawed but entertaining. On the down side, a couple of the characters are misjudged and could have been cut completely – for example, Jay Leno is awkward and almost entirely pointless as Albert Fiore. It’s also a little slow to get going, and for a so-called comedy it could have been a lot funnier. 

On the plus side, Cybill Shepherd is excellent as the kooky wife of an accountant. The film improves from the moment she steps into it. And Charles “Blofeld” Gray is easy to like as a millionaire precious-metals dealer. Louis Jourdan and Joss Ackland are also fairly strong. The Swiss locations look good, and there’s a nice soundtrack by Claude Bolling.

King Kong (2005)

Peter Jackson’s epic remake of the monster classic is every bit as big and bold as its subject. 

The generally underrated Naomi Watts is superb as the woman captured and then befriended by the giant gorilla. The empathy and understanding between the two forms the emotional core of the film. Both are lost and misunderstood until they find each other. Jack Black seems miscast as Carl Denham, the ambitious, canny film director who has the map to Skull Island and wants to achieve fame and fortune by filming the extraordinary mysteries there. He’s not quite right for the role, somehow, and there are too many close-ups of his face looking “perturbed”. 

The visuals are impressive, even if I don’t really like the garish/ugly aesthetic style Jackson adopts. Some of the CGI scenes – such as Kong fighting dinosaurs as they tumble into a valley – are remarkable, even if he sometimes favours an ugly “high style” that doesn’t even try to be “realistic”. It’s more like a homage to a cinematic golden age that embraces its own artifice. 

Kong himself is motion-captured from Andy Serkis, who would provide the same function for Rise of the Planet of the Apes (2011) and its 2014 and 2017 sequels. You instantly relate to his predicament, and it’s heartbreaking to see him ruined by the greed and selfishness of the humans who seek to exploit him. 

The famous Empire State Building sequence (faithfully reconstructed from the 1933 original) is terrifying and genuinely disturbing.

Fast & Furious (2009)

Silly thriller based around flashy cars being driven fast, probably designed for young boys who’ve recently grown out of playing with Hot Wheels. It’s the fourth in the popular franchise, despite a confusing name that makes it sound like the first. 

A “lovable” crook (Vin Diesel) and an FBI agent (Paul Walker) team up to catch a drug baron (John Ortiz). Vin Diesel isn’t very expressive when he delivers his formulaic dialogue, so he acts with his muscles. His character’s sister (Jordana Brewster) and girlfriend (Michelle Rodríguez) also feature prominently. 

The action is slick. The violence is sanitised (not a drop of blood). The emotions are simplistic (not a smile nor a tear). It’s all constructed around high-speed racing. If that’s your thing, you will love it.

Half Moon Street (1986)

Awkward thriller that completely fails to make the most of its talented stars. 

An American scholar named Dr. Slaughter (Sigourney Weaver) works for a pro-Arab think tank in London. To supplement her meagre pay, she takes on work as an escort. Even more improbably, she only starts doing this because someone anonymously sends her a videotape about the escort industry. Incredibly, she doesn’t even adopt a fake name. (She might not have minded people knowing about her dual career, but the sexist snobs at her institute surely would have done.) Through this new line of work she meets Lord Bulbeck (Michael Caine), a diplomat brokering a peace deal in the Middle East and a man with dangerous enemies.

The disjointed, badly plotted narrative lurches from scene to scene. It hints at a complex web of interconnected threads, but the “big reveal” – when it finally arrives – turns out to be disappointingly simplistic. 

Many of the scenes seem to have been invented as an excuse to get Sigourney Weaver to take her clothes off – such as her sitting in the bath and calling in the landlord to tell him that the shower doesn’t work. Yet the film tries to have its cake and eat it by giving her lines about gender equality and being “in control”. You wonder how the iconic star of Alien, Ghostbusters, Working Girl and Gorillas in the Mist could possibly have been happy accepting this role. 

On the plus side, there’s a certain chemistry between Weaver and Caine. Most of the acting is reasonably strong, and the script avoids cliché. But Half Moon Street falls flat because director Bob Swaim seems unable to handle basic storytelling or plot logic. Instead, he creates a muddled mess that feels both half-baked and exploitative.

Return to Me (2000)

Chicago architect Bob Rueland (David Duchovny) loses his wife (Joely Richardson) in a car accident. Her heart is donated to an artist named Grace (Minnie Driver), who would otherwise have died. A year later, Bob and Grace meet by coincidence, and – without realising what connects them – begin to fall in love. 

It’s a strange film – not quite a rom-com and not really a drama, either. There are too many extra characters of little consequence. For example, Grace lives with her Irish grandfather (Carroll O’Connor), who owns an Italian restaurant and socialises with his friends. There’s quite a bit of these elderly men sitting around playing cards and talking about Frank Sinatra or Dean Martin. We also get to see a lot of Grace’s friend Megan (Bonnie Hunt, who also directed) spending time with her husband (James Belushi) and their children. There’s also too much about Bob’s dog (and even the boy who helps look after Bob’s dog). Plus, there are threads about painting, gardening and antique bicycles. A further dimension comes from the gorilla sanctuary that Bob’s wife worked at and which he helps to expand and redevelop to honour her life’s work. 

All of these bitty elements don’t add up to much. But when Duchovny and Driver are on screen together, it works. You just wish they had been allowed more screen time as a couple, and with less of the unfunny silliness that surrounds them.

Paris, Texas (1984)

Emotional drama directed by Wim Wenders. 

A drifter named Travis (Harry Dean Stanton) walks out of the desert and appears unable to speak. His brother Walt (Dean Stockwell) travels from Los Angeles to collect him. We learn that he’s been wandering for four years without contact, presumed dead, and has clearly undergone some kind of psychological trauma. In L.A., he’s reunited with his son (Hunter Carson) and begins a sort of rehabilitation. But that recovery process cannot be completed without Travis facing up to – and finding – his estranged wife (Nastassja Kinski).

It’s a sort of road movie, and the landscape shots always look stunning. Ry Cooder’s iconic slide-guitar soundtrack helps to make it even more atmospheric. It’s a painful exploration of the characters’ feelings, and in some ways quite upsetting. The climactic scene towards the end doesn’t quite satisfy, however: it changes the pacing and feels self-consciously “theatrical” compared to what’s gone before. On the one hand that magnifies the impact, but on the other hand it jars slightly with what’s come before. 

That point aside, it’s a poignant story about families and the damage they can do to each other.

The Wrong Man (1956)

Enthralling thriller directed by Alfred Hitchcock and based on a true story. Oddly enough, Hitchcock himself shows up at the start to explain this in a brief monologue at the beginning. 

Manny Balestrero (Henry Fonda) is a New York musician who is wrongly arrested for a series of robberies. He is identified by several witnesses who seem to recognise him. He and his wife Rose (Vera Miles) seek to prove his innocence, but events take their toll on both of them in different ways – especially Rose, who suffers a mental decline. 

It’s a noir-ish crime drama that – like all Hitchcock tales – takes on an additional psychological dimension and keeps you guessing until the very end.

Manhattan (1979)

Woody Allen plays a 42-year-old TV writer who is dating a 17-year-old girl (Mariel Hemingway). But when he meets his best friend’s mistress (Diane Keaton), he falls for her. 

It’s shot in black and white, so the shots of New York (often at night) look stunning – elegant vistas of architecture and light. These scenes are given an additional stately grandeur by the music of George Gershwin. 

There are funny lines, as you’d expect, and the usual, masterfully handled tangle of interconnected relationships. Given the various allegations about Woody Allen’s private life, the age-difference narrative stands out as being awkward. It appears that he’s deliberately playing with taboo. And to his credit, he certainly doesn’t write a very nice character for himself. 

All of the acting is remarkable. Meryl Streep is excellent as one of Allen’s two ex-wives. Keaton is funny as a self-conscious intellectual. And Hemingway is quietly magnetic as the emotional centre of the film – the one character you really care about and who seems motivated by love rather than personal gain.

Masked and Anonymous (2003)

An awkward, over-stylised mess. The “plot”, what there is of one, details a future North America in which society has partly broken down. An iconic rock star named Jack Fate (Bob Dylan) is released from prison to play a benefit concert. 

There are too many actors. None of them have much to do but they all look a little too pleased with themselves for being in a film with Bob Dylan. As usual, John Goodman plays an annoying fat crook. I find him unbearable – exactly the same persona in every role. Jeff Bridges plays a journalist and Penélope Cruz is his strange girlfriend. These characters have the annoying names Uncle Sweetheart, Tom Friend and Pagan Lace.

The all-star cast also includes Jessica Lange, Luke Wilson, Val Kilmer, Chris Penn, Mickey Rourke and Christian Slater. It’s remarkable that you end up not caring about a single character, as none of them are remotely developed. They are all merely mouthpieces for self-consciously cryptic speeches and pseudo-profound utterances that add up to very little. Even Bob Dylan gets annoying, and he was the only reason I watched the film. Yes, he’s enigmatic and charismatic – he can’t be anything else  – but nothing is ever done with those qualities. 

The music is the most interesting element: Dylan performs a few songs “live” within the film and every other song featured on the soundtrack was written by him but performed by another musician. 

The political angle is another missed opportunity. We learn that totalitarianism is bad. 

I found it difficult to get to the end, but I ploughed on out of misplaced loyalty to Bob.

What’s New Pussycat? (1965)

Deeply unfunny farce directed by Clive Donner. 

Peter O’Toole is a playboy who can’t stop chasing after women in Paris. Peter Sellers is a lecherous therapist with his own problems. Woody Allen is in love with O’Toole’s fiance. It’s all over the place, both in terms of storytelling (a potentially interesting love triangle idea is quickly forgotten) and morals, which seem informed by a curious mixture of Carry On-style English repression and clichés about “European” looseness. In the world of this film, men are portrayed as womanising beasts and women exist only to please them. 

The only laughs come from Woody Allen, who is naturally funny in his scenes – although he does have to take the blame for writing such a poor script overall. Peter Sellers is once again wearing a silly wig and doing a silly accent, but neither of those generate any hilarity. The final section – Ursula Andress literally parachutes into the film and everyone runs around after each other in a country hotel – seems muddled and desperate, as any notion of “plot” is completely abandoned for cheap visual gags that fall flat.

I don’t like the theme song sung by Tom Jones, either.

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964)

Cold War black comedy.

Apparently losing his mind, a US Air Force general (Sterling Hayden) orders a nuclear attack on the Soviets. This, we learn, will trigger a “doomsday machine” response so vast that will render Earth uninhabitable. With the clock ticking to call off the strike, we follow the story in three related threads – the struggle to retract the order from within the air base where the general is stationed, the progress of the B-52 plane that’s on the way to drop its bombs, and the discussions in the war room where the US president considers the options. 

Stanley Kubrick directs, and there’s a beauty to some of the black and white shots. Unfortunately, the film is constructed around Peter Sellers, who – for no apparent reason – plays three different roles. If you don’t find him hilarious (I don’t), you’re in trouble. Some of the satire hits the spot (a British RAF exchange officer not being able to call the president and avoid Armageddon because he doesn’t have sufficient spare change in his pocket), but a lot of it falls flat. It taps into a potentially rich seam of material regarding the futility of war and mutually assured destruction, but it’s too uneven and simply not funny enough to make those points in a satisfactory manner.

24 Hour Party People (2002)

Michael Winterbottom’s vivid and highly entertaining biopic of Tony Wilson, boss of Factory Records and founder of the Hacienda nightclub. Wilson is perfectly evoked by Steve Coogan, who really captures the flamboyant brilliance of the man. 

The film is witty and fairly innovative. At times it breaks the fourth wall with speech direct to camera. Real footage is woven in with recreations so, for example, you “see” Coogan as Wilson in the crowd of a Sex Pistols concert. It makes a strong case for Manchester as a thriving centre for culture from the late 1970s (punk) to the early 1990s (“Madchester”). 

Along the way we get the story of Wilson’s TV work for Granada Reports, his relationship with wife Lindsey (Shirley Henderson), and the rise and fall of Wilson-promoted bands Joy Division, New Order and the Happy Mondays. It’s very funny in places, and even the fantastical sequences such as sightings of a UFO and a conversation with God himself – the sort of gimmicks I usually hate – work well in this context, such is Winterbottom’s masterful juggling of the various threads of fact, fiction, myth and reality.

Man on Wire (2008)

Documentary directed by James Marsh that details Philippe Petit's iconic 1974 high-wire walk between the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center in New York City. Adapted from Petit’s own memoir, To Reach the Clouds, it reconstructs the complicated plans and schemes leading up to the big event. The narrative is presented like a crime story, introducing the various characters who worked with him – often against the law – to gain access to the towers and help make the carefully plotted sequence of events come together. 

Petit’s descriptions and recollections are fascinating, but he seems prone to a degree of self-mythologising. Perhaps surprisingly, it’s the accounts of his colleagues that really bring this story to life. It’s especially notable how emotional they feel about the wire walk – a moment that clearly took on symbolic significance beyond mere hair-raising spectacle.

Hidden a.k.a. Caché (2005)

Brilliant French thriller. 

TV presenter Georges Laurent (Daniel Auteuil) and his wife Anne (Juliette Binoche) start receiving mysterious video cassettes at their front door. These VHS tapes show footage of their own home being spied on and are accompanied by childish drawings of violent imagery. They are also subjected to mysterious phone messages. This premise becomes more creepy still when it becomes clear that whoever is watching and threatening them seems to know everything about Georges’ life from childhood onwards. The police aren’t interested, in the absence of an actual crime, but the situation intensifies as it begins to draw in their son (Lester Makedonsky as Pierrot) and a key individual from Georges’ personal history (Maurice Bénichou as Majid). In trying to unravel the mystery of what’s going on, the couple instead begin to unravel their marriage. 

I love the way that you think you’re watching a scene in the usual way, but then it becomes clear that you’re watching the surveillance tape of it instead. This is a neat innovation in a film that’s otherwise unfussy and straightforward in terms of its sets and direction. Indeed, a lot of it is deliberately humdrum.

It’s superbly unsettling. As the plot escalates, you expect to get closer to the truth of the events. But this enigmatic film deliberately keeps you guessing and refuses to offer simplistic solutions. As such, it presents bigger questions that stay with you.

The Godfather (1972)

This came with all the baggage of being a celebrated “masterpiece”. Maybe that’s why I didn’t enjoy it as much as I was supposed to. The mafia plot threads are engrossing, if complicated, and Al Pacino is terrific as Michael. Also, James Caan, Robert Duvall and Diane Keaton are all persuasive in their roles. However, I found Marlon Brando slightly ridiculous as Vito Corleone. His almost indecipherable speech didn’t help (it’s obvious he has something stuffed inside his cheeks), and clarity is unnecessarily sacrificed for “character”. 

Surprisingly, Francis Ford Coppola’s direction doesn’t seem especially notable. I far, far prefer the vision he brings to Apocalypse Now and Peggy Sue Got Married. 

The drab, washed-out visuals are presumably deliberate, but these are another turn-off.

My loss, I know.

La La Land (2016)

Remarkable musical directed by Damien Chazelle. 

Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling are just perfect as the young, ambitious Los Angeles dreamers who fall in love. He’s a jazz pianist who wants to open his own club. She’s an actress who writes a one-woman play and hopes to be a film star. 

The singing, dancing and choreography are a joy. I love the long shots that seem not to have any edits. The colours are bright and vivid. And the on/off relationship plot is strong. 

It’s not perfect. Arguably the “magic realism” goes too far on a couple of occasions and takes you too far out of the story, such as when they seem to start flying at the Griffith Observatory. And the two songs packed into the first 10 minutes set it up to be more of a musical than it ends up being, which makes it a little uneven. 

It’s certainly more emotional than a standard musical. It’s hugely romantic and ultimately a little sad, while also somehow being uplifting. It was incredibly fresh when it came out and it still feels just as fresh five years on.

Predator (1987)

Bunch of tough guys in a Central American jungle hunt an invisible alien. It’s a bit like a B-movie, but with a bigger than usual budget – and Arnold Schwarzenegger.

A shoddy script offers one-dimensional characters that are hardly fleshed out at all. They issue stupid one-liners to accompany scenes of gratuitous violence. You get to see lot of oiled muscles, almost fetishistically presented. 

The “rules” about the Predator’s invisibility seem to come and go. It’s difficult to take a monster seriously when it is revealed to have boots and dreadlocks. Likewise, why does its hi-tech heat-sensing equipment fail to “see” Arnie when he’s smeared with mud?

I’d heard this film talked about a fair bit over the years, but didn’t realise how disappointingly mediocre it would turn out to be.

Starship Troopers (1997)

Stunning hybrid of sci-fi, horror and war film that cleverly masters those genres while simultaneously pastiching them. Directed by Paul Verhoeven, and based on Robert A. Heinlein's 1959 novel, it also works as ultra-black comedy in the way it satirises military propaganda. 

Earth is at war with a devastating species of bugs. A young soldier named Johnny Rico (Casper Van Dien) enlists to fight, and moves up through the ranks. He’s involved in different ways with two colleagues – “Dizzy” (Dina Meyer), who fights alongside him in the Mobile Infantry, and Carmen (Denise Richards), who is a gifted pilot. Blandly handsome and obedient, they perfectly epitomise the patriotic ideal. 

The effects are extraordinary, and they don't seem to have the slick veneer of CGI. It’s extremely violent, with plenty of bloody dismemberment presented in a semi-cartoonish manner, but it’s also a hugely entertaining romp that's both intelligent and memorable. I liked it even more on second and third viewings.

The Big Blue (1988)

Strange and profound drama written and directed by Luc Besson. It tells the story (only loosely based in reality) of Jacques Mayol (Jean-Marc Barr) and Enzo Molinari (Jean Reno), childhood friends who have grown up as rival freedivers. Jacques is virtually half-dolphin and continually feels the pull of the sea, despite – or perhaps because of – the fact that his own father drowned while diving. When Jacques meets the devoted Johanna Baker (Rosanna Arquette), he is torn between a life on land and the world he is truly drawn to. 

I really liked the love story. Arquette has a goofy, ditzy charm that seems incredibly natural and charming. Barr, meanwhile, has a peaceful, zen-like presence on screen that makes him special and magnetic. The freediving competition stuff is interesting, as are the swimming and communicating with dolphins. 

On the down side, the horrible soundtrack of 1980s synth and fretless bass simply doesn’t fit. Also, the film is extremely long and could have been improved by editing. 

I found the humour around Enzo awkward and misplaced. There’s a whimsy to it and a peculiar tone that doesn’t always resonate for me. But the film becomes progressively more serious and compelling as it goes on. Ultimately, it’s able to make sophisticated observations about the value of life in ways that will stay with me. The closing moments are touching indeed.

The Runaways (2010)

Highly entertaining biopic of the 1970s all-girl rock band adapted from Cherie Currie’s autobiography (Neon Angel: A Memoir of a Runaway). It charts their rise to fame, aided by producer Kim Fowley (here played flamboyantly by Michael Shannon) and the group’s inevitable decline into drug hell and internal bickering. Visually and musically, it’s spot-on. Dakota Fanning and Kristen Stewart paint sympathetic portraits of Cherie Currie and Joan Jett respectively, and it’s their relationship that forms the heart of the story. Oddly, guitarist Lita Ford has been completely minimised to just a few lines. 

Like their records, it’s brash and loud – full of vitality and not especially subtle. But the storytelling is strong and the characters are convincing. I felt it skipped across events somewhat – you’d never guess from watching this that they recorded four albums – but perhaps that’s inevitable when a band’s career is squeezed down to a time that’s roughly equivalent to one of their gigs. 

The only slight criticism is that the seedier 1970s locations don't look dirty or grungy enough. Everything’s a little too clean – even when Joan Jett urinates on a guitar backstage. And the girls look like film stars (because they are) rather than ordinary kids in an extraordinary situation.

The Queen of Versailles (2012)

Remarkable documentary made by Lauren Greenfield about former billionaire David Siegel, who made a fortune selling time-share apartments, and Jackie Siegel, his wife. The couple have lots of children and dogs and live in a huge house, but plan to build an even bigger house, styled after the Palace of Versailles, which turns out to be the largest home in America. Then the global financial crisis hits and they risk losing everything. 

It’s a powerful study of wealth and its effects. There are fascinating scenes of excess in which you see Jackie shopping at Walmart or going through the antiques she keeps in a storage facility. It’s impossible to imagine having this kind of wealth. Yet being obscenely rich doesn’t seem like much fun. Their dogs foul the carpets frequently. Their eight children seem to barely know their father. Their pet lizard dies through complete neglect. And the Siegel marriage seems strained. 

The documentary shows all of this without making judgement, but the Siegels nevertheless sued to prevent the film’s release. That the filmmakers won the case only confirms how skilfully and impartially they presented the story.

127 Hours (2010)

Dramatisation of the true story of Aron Ralston, based on his wittily titled memoir Between a Rock and a Hard Place.

Hiking in Utah, Aron became trapped under a boulder in Bluejohn Canyon and was unable to free his arm. After five days, about to die of dehydration and organ failure, he hacks off his arm to free himself and then walks to safety. 

Directed by Danny Boyle, it’s shot in an exciting “pop video” manner. It uses split-screen techniques to juxtapose his thoughts, hopes and memories. This adventurous approach enables Boyle to have fun conjuring the hallucinations and visions that start to plague Ralston as his situation becomes more desperate. 

James Franco is engaging as the resourceful but foolishly impulsive Ralston. It’s extremely moving as he gets closer to death and then overcomes it.

Doc Hollywood (1991)

Uneven romantic comedy. 

Dr. Ben Stone (Michael J. Fox) is driving to Los Angeles for a job interview as a plastic surgeon when he takes the wrong road and crashes his fancy car in the small town of Grady, South Carolina. He’s forced to stay there for a few days, working a punishment of community service in the medical centre, and slowly comes round to the locals’ way of life.

It’s a good idea, but some of the characters fall flat (such as Woody Harrelson as a crazed insurance salesman) or completely fail to convince. Ben starts falling for Vialula (Julie Warner), the town’s ambulance driver, who improbably first greets him by stepping out of a lake naked. 

Another flaw is that the comedy isn’t as sharp as you’d hope. Michael J. Fox is excellent, as usual: a very sympathetic hero with some good lines and some amusing moments. He does the “running around” escapades extremely well. Also, I really liked Bridget Fonda as Nancy, the mayor’s daughter. If only she was in the film more.

The small-town atmosphere begins to come together in the later stages, although not nearly as well as it does in films such as Local Hero or Roxanne, and there are a few laughs and a couple of touching scenes. But that’s not enough to make it truly satisfying.

The Sand Pebbles (1966)

China in the 1920s. Steve McQueen plays Jake Holman, an engineer on a US gunboat patrolling the Yangtze river. It’s an unusual ship in that the Americans employ a Chinese crew, who effectively do all the hard work in an uneasy master/slave relationship. 

Richard Attenborough is a sailor named Frenchy who becomes attached to a young woman he saves from a life of prostitution (Marayat Andriane as Maily). Candice Bergen is Shirley Eckert, the pretty missionary McQueen falls for. 

It’s incredibly long (over three hours), but a lot happens. It’s also the sweatiest film I’ve ever seen. Everyone seems to be perspiring all of the time. Steve McQueen is the usual monosyllabic anti-hero. He seems to struggle with what little dialogue he does have, with an oddly wobbly mouth on the sentimental scenes. 

I did wonder why The Sand Pebbles ever got made. It’s a strange story and it doesn’t have any obvious hook. Director Robert Wise had just worked on The Sound of Music, and the showdown in the missionary courtyard did partially resemble the abbey crypt scene from that superior film.

United 93 (2006)

Extremely harrowing account of what is believed to have happened on one of the four planes hijacked on September 11th, 2001. Whereas the other three reached their targets, this Boeing 757-222 was downed in a Pennsylvania field on its way to Washington, D.C. after the passengers confronted the Al-Qaeda terrorists who murdered the pilots.

It’s filmed in a “documentary” style that’s horribly convincing. It’s to the great credit of writer and director Paul Greengrass that he doesn’t sensationalise the events. Nor does he create “hero” characters among the doomed passengers or flesh them out with speculative material. Instead, the narrative stays faithful to what little is known about what actually took place. The air-traffic control personnel are also portrayed well, and it’s grimly compelling as we observe them realising that events are spinning out of control.

The tension is almost unbearable. You feel what you are seeing is real, which makes you ask yourself why you are watching it at all. The closing minutes are incredibly dramatic and painful to watch.

Educating Rita (1983)

Hugely charming comedy-drama written by Willy Russell and directed by Lewis Gilbert. Rita a.k.a. Susan (Julie Walters) is a 26-year-old working-class Liverpudlian who begins an Open University course. Frank (Michael Caine) is her middle-aged tutor who feels jaded about his life and career, with a failing personal life and a drink problem. As they start to get to know each other by discussing literature, the pair begin to change each other in various ways. 

The storytelling is superb. It’s funny and poignant. The two leads are perfect in their roles and they have great chemistry together. When they are both on screen, there’s not a single misjudged moment, and every element either contributes to the development of the plot or deepens the extremely well-drawn characters.

The only aspect that seemed a little out of place was Maureen Lipman as Rita's Mahler-loving "bohemian" friend. She's funny, but seems almost a pantomime caricature. A pretentious student mentor would have better served the narrative.

There’s a superb semi-electronic soundtrack by David Hentschel, too.

It was interesting to see how much the respected film critic Robert Ebert got wrong about this film: "The movie stars Michael Caine as a British professor of literature and Julie Walters as the simple Cockney girl who comes to him for night-school lessons. She has problems: She is a working-class punk with an unimaginative husband." She's not a "Cockney" and she's not a "punk". 

Maybe it just doesn't translate to American audiences.

Sophie's Choice (1982)

Alan J. Pakula’s adaptation of William Styron’s 1979 novel starring Meryl Streep. 

My experience of the film was dominated by the fact that this newspaper freebie DVD somehow omitted the subtitles. The extended flashback sequences spoken entirely in German therefore made no sense at all. Given that this dealt with the crux of the film – Sophie’s actual choice – that pretty much ruined it. 

That hurdle aside, Meryl Streep is fantastic: you see and feel her pain because she's able to make it seem incredibly real. Kevin Kline is convincingly scary as her paranoid psychotic boyfriend. It was difficult to see Peter MacNicol as "Stingo" because I recognise him as the silly art-gallery villain Janosz Poha from Ghostbusters II, but he did capture the ambiguity of a character we’re unsure whether we’re supposed to like or not. 

There’s something a bit lumbering and stilted about the way it’s filmed, and the flashbacks could have been cut altogether. It would have been enough just to watch Sophie telling her story. We certainly didn’t need the washed-out/sepia look applied to the concentration camp sequences. These reservations aside, it's worth seeing for Streep's performance alone.