Reviews

Two brothers - both gay - grow up in a single parent household with their father. One - "Todd" (Frankie Valenti) moves away to live his gay life in the open. When their father dies, he returns to find his more reserved, stay-at-home brother "Chet" (Mark Strano) running their family hardware store. The film depicts their relationship - both current, and through flashbacks of their childhood, and endeavours to investigate what fuels their love/hate situation. Nothing at all new here, the performances are OK - the usual character stereotypes - and the ending is pretty much as expected. The production standards are quite high, and their is some interesting comment on attitudes and assumptions - but they might have been more interesting had this been set in the middle of Iowa rather than the far more liberally minded California. Gregory Marcel provides some welcome eye-candy, but otherwise this is all forgettable family reconciliation stuff with a gay theme.

Though this is a bit hit and miss, and I do wonder just how many editions of the BBC's "'Allo 'Allo" director Emir Kustrica had watched, this is still quite an entertaining look at the evolution of Yugoslavia from it's wartime Chetnik phase through until the dismantling of the country following the death of Tito. It's split into three distinct parts, and the start reminded me a little of the beginning of "Hannibal Brooks" (1969) with a zoo getting bombed and keeper "Ivan" (Slavko Stimac) rescuing one of his charges - a chimp this time, not an elephant. What now ensues follows how he, his brother "Marko" (Pedrag Manojlovic) and his best pal "Blacky" (Lazar Ristovski) as they try to keep their families safe during the Naxi onslaught whilst, at the same time, making a few extra dinars dealing on the black market. Only "Marko" gets to go above ground, the others remain below for their own safety - but as the war concludes, the former doesn't enlighten the latter - and so like a bunch of unaware moles, they continue to manufacture their munitions oblivious of the changes up top that see their new focus being anti-Communist activities as the regime of Josef Tito becomes firmly entrenched. The final phase deals with a sort of messy reconciliation of the first two parts as well as addressing the more raw issues faced as their country disintegrates into an abyss of civil war with profiteering and treachery rife, they lose touch and chaos reigns - despite the presence of the light blue berets of the UN troops. It's quite a long old watch, this, and there are times when you could easily take a razor blade to it, but the characterisations are quite enjoyably zany and entertaining whilst leaving enough substance to their principled behaviour in defence of their country and their communities to provoke some thought, too. The comedy isn't really sophisticated, it's actually pretty slap-stick for the most part (there's a scene at the end with a burning electric wheelchair that does rather sum the whole thing up), but that humour is used to quite potent effect pointing out just how traumatic it was for anyone growing up in this part of the Balkans in the last half of the 20th century, and at how stoically and energetically many took up that challenge. I can't say that any of the acting particularly stood out (except maybe the monkey having great fun inside a fully armoured tank), it's more of an ensemble effort that mixes farce with history quite engagingly.

This is told by way of the reading of a letter that explains the story of how "George" (John Carroll) has frittered away his family inheritance and is now dependent on his half-brother "Barry" (Robert Paige) - a situation which he bitterly resents. A solution to his predicament presents itself when he suggests that his girlfriend "Carlotta" (Vera Ralston) take up the position of nurse to the ailing "Barry". Their plan is quite simple, really. She befriends him, gets him to fall in love with her and then they marry. Once married, "Barry" will meet his end and she will be free to marry "George" and inherit the family fortune. It's not so much a flame this as a flicker. It's pretty obvious what's going to happen, and but for a few scenes with the scheming "Ernie" (Broderick Crawford) and Henry Travers as the well meaning "Dr. Mitchell" this story proves to not quite have the courage of it's convictions. It's all just a little too formulaic in the end. Blanche Yurka does her best impersonation of Queen Mary as his aunt "Blanche" - no fool, herself and Hattie McDaniel livens things up, sparingly, too - but sadly this all just goes the way of the damp squib after a promising start.

This could be allegorical about almost anything buried in the imagination of man. With a lively and evolving soundtrack, we see people assembled in a well lit building above ground before descending to the depths of the metro where the trains speed along. People are like ants milling around, packed in, being ferried about. Their facial, almost alien, expressions basically and fluidly defined with as pallid a complexion as milk. It's very randomness is what makes it interesting. Shapes are distinguishable but the motions seem to defy logic, gravity - you name it. Ever tried smoking a cigarette whilst doing a cartwheel in a two piece suit? It's ten minutes of eccentricity, very slightly sexually charged, that I thought might inspire us to look about us more.

I never really rated Alan Ladd but he's quite decent in this wartime thriller. He's the gangster "Lucky" who finds himself drafted! Despite the best efforts of his lawyer "Higgins" (Lloyd Corrigan) to get him off, he is duly posted - and promptly absconds. Not before, though, he encounters "Jill" (Helen Walker) who disapproves heartily of his unpatriotic attitude. She ends up his hostage and the briefcase she was carrying becomes the hottest property in town. We discover it contains some top secret army designs and that there's a group of Nazi fifth columnist's out to retrieve it. Now "Lucky" has to make some tough choices (and a fairly impassioned speech at the end) before their secrets fall into enemy hands. The drama itself is quite well put together and decently paced. There's a solid, if unremarkable, effort from Walker and a few scene stealing quips from Mabel Paige's rather astute "Annie" - the sharpest, shrewdest and wittiest of the bunch. It's all fairly standard fayre, but is an easy watch as it sows the seeds for US involvement in WWII.

Hugh Sinclair does a workmanlike job here as the enigmatic "Simon Templar" who just wants to take a peaceful holiday. There's not much chance, though, when he becomes embroiled with a mysterious plot to obtain a rather plain looking musical box. When he discovers that it's none other than his arch-foe "Hauser" (Cecil Parker) who wants the thing, his interest is piqued. What's so special about it? With the help of his stalwart "Monty" (Arthur Macrae) they are soon on it's trail - despite the frequently irritating interventions of pushy journalist "Mary" (Sally Gray). It's that latter effort that spoiled this for me. Her character is so annoying that I'd cheerfully have thrown her over-board. If you are eagle-eyed you might spot Felix Aylmer here, and there's a decent enough dynamic between Parker and Sinclair when the drama is left to them on screen going through the predicable but watchable motions. Sadly though, there's just too much of Gray as it develops, and I lost interest.

There is something almost Discobolus-like about the animated depiction of the eponymous gent who was no stranger to hard labour. It's the expansive railroad building programme that provides his work, regardless of the natural obstacles that stood in their way - and that includes a mountain! He determines to finish a tunnel, but when progress is a little slow the bosses bring in a steam-powered drill. The race is on - can his brute strength work more quickly that this machine? I thought there was something of the "Jesus Christ Superstar" to the descriptively written musical accompaniment from Roberta Flack here. The whole story is sung, with tenderness and determination, telling a story that symbolises quite powerfully the efforts and dangers of those who help America grow. The style of almost painted animation shows the muscles flex and you can almost see the beads of sweat too as his man perseveres. Original and well worth ten minutes.

Poor "Pulcinella" just wants to be left to sleep, but his wife has other plans. He is turfed outside for his ablutions and taking a leak against a rather grand statue, finds himself pursued by the soldiers guarding it. He makes it home, just, climbs up onto the roof and resumes his slumbers, he hopes, in peace. Sadly, though, as Rossini's lively version of the story accompanies his dreams, he experiences a series of adventures that never see him escape from the soldiers or his wife. Nightmarish or what? I liked the abstract nature of the animation sequences and I also enjoyed the mischief in the characterisation of the man as he encounters just about everything - delivered ballet style - whilst simply trying to get some kip. He might be the laziest man in the village, but I did empathise and I also quite enjoyed this quirky and vivid ten minutes of quickly paced fun.

Whilst certainly not demonstrating the most politically correct nor scientific of rationale, this is still quite a stylishly depicted dance through the Hindu mythology of the Creation. God creates animals, plants and man - then realises that he has little left from which to create woman. Inspired, he combines some of the most delicate and beautiful elements together and so allows man to have a companion. After a week, though, he returns to God begging for her to be taken back. She never shuts up! God agrees to take her back, but soon man pines for her and requests her back. Again God agrees, but when man reaches the end of his tether once more and wants shot of her, God tells them to stop whinging and get on with it! Though it's a little on the slow side, there is some fine and intricate dancing here and the costumier has excelled at dressing these dancers beautifully. Worth a watch, I'd say.

This was part of Paramount Studio's "Sport's Illustrated" series and combines some documentary style footage with a series of airborne and ground angles to show us these parachutists jumping from heights in excess of 2,500 ft over Massachusetts sand - after they have been schooled for three hours on the health and safety elements - especially learning how to land! Though the narration does try it's best, the gentle gliding of these chutes as they come into land doesn't really convey very much of the exhilaration of the free-fall stages of their jumps. Even the helmet camera and their baton swap doesn't really give us much of an impression of the speed of their fall - even when they start above 7,000 ft. The slightly jovial score doesn't really help either. It's worth a watch, but a touch underwhelming.

This is quite a quirky documentary, produced by BP, that follows a morning in the life of the eponymous girl who is a bit bored, so watches the customers come and go through her dad's petrol station because he won't take her to the nearby fair! He tries to convince her of just how much fun she can have staying put - but she's unconvinced and for the first five minutes, so was I! The the oil tanker delivers - but he only stays for a few moments to top up his coffee... More birdsong the a hunter on his bike, a couple of Vespa-riding clergymen. Finally, a swanky big saloon car. Dad can't find the petrol cap but at east she gets her photo taken (about two thousand times!) and he gets a big cigar. Then some unlucky newlyweds arrive, all suited, booted, oily and sweaty, but with a puncture on their tiny little car - dad gets to fix that and she gets to replace the bride's long gone corsage. Fun day, eh? Wait, there's even more excitement as one of those Morris Travellers - remember with the wooden framed rears, well it's got engine trouble so the (British) owners must stop and have some civilised afternoon tea whilst they wait for a new spark plug to be fitted. They don't even ask her to join them though, miserable gits... Eventually a sleek Mercedes convertible arrives and it's guitar playing passenger gives her a chance for a quick dance before lunch. The snag with this is that except for the few seconds of liveliness in her day, this is as dull to watch as it is to live through and the pace really doesn't have much gas either. Quite what or who BP made this for is anyone's guess, but it does have a charm to it as we watch the quiet life of a rural community where roads were still shared by donkeys and dreycarts, bikes and classic looking sardine tins with wheels and 500cc engines.

Four hundred international students attend this unique college. At the time, it was the only one in the world exclusively for the deaf. Gallaudet College uses lip and sign language techniques to first prepare their students for advanced learning then to offer a standard curriculum for BA and BSc degrees. It has an hearing and speech centre where each person is encouraged to try to enunciate the simplest of sounds so that they may eventually try to formulate their own words but it's no mean task. Otherwise, things are kept as regular as possible with studying, recreation and examinations just as taxing as for anyone else! It's not just education in a traditional sense that's offered, but also some training to try and better prepare them for the employment world when they leave. The teaching is patient and the teachers dedicated to trying to improve, whilst also ensuring that there isn't such a thing as failure for these kids either. The narration is all a bit dry, but there's some mischief in the soundtrack as the students remember that they are young too!

Germaine Dulac has created a monster here... Not in any kaiju sense, but by taking a surreal swipe at just about every element of the masculine-driven, religiously flawed environment of the world in the 1920s. The eponymous priest - Alex Allin harbours none too subtle desires about the mistress of "le général" (Lucien Bataille) - the beautiful Genica Athanasiou, and the next half hour illustrates some of the complex ramifications of this infatuation. Now I have watched this many times, each time thinking as I get older, that the penny may drop and that I shall discover a deeper meaning... Each time, I thoroughly enjoy the intimate, creative imagery and the truly characterful performances, but am still really none the wiser. I think that's what is enthralling about this short enigma of a feature. It stimulates questions, but doesn't answer any of them... Clearly, the director has an agenda, and a political point to make - but we are left to imagine a healthy amount of what this might be about. Is it erotic? Is it about frustration, excess...? I still don't really know....

Yikes, talk about self-indulgent. It does start off quite frighteningly as a girl is ambushed in an office by a group of colleagues and stripped on what looks like a sacrificial table! Then we discover that it's nothing more than a bunch of bored and wired students who have nothing better to do than play their own version of psycho-cleudo. Then they encounter the enigmatic "Duchemin" (Pierre Zimmer) who regales them with stories of his time in North Africa and of a special powder that could change their lives for ever. Gullible as they are, off we head to some beautifully pristine Tunisian seaside adobe homes where the rest of this plays out. Surreal is putting the rest of this mildly, so don't be looking for anything akin to a traditional plot as the group start to hallucinate and partake in some real Marquis de Sade kind of stuff. Perhaps it's meant to be erotic - but nudity in itself (almost exclusively female) is not necessarily sexy nor provocative. For the last half hour or so, you could easily be forgiven for thinking you're watching a "Playboy" shoot. To be fair, the randomness and unpredictability does work at times and the whole thing keeps you on your toes for a while, but as it gets towards what passes for a conclusion, I felt that perhaps I'd have volunteered for one of the venomous little scorpions that may (or, of course, may not) have featured earlier. It's far too long, far too slow and no attempt is made to develop any form of characterisation amongst these pretty introspective young folks who are easy pickings for their new mentor. It's was showcased at the abandoned 1970 Berlinale and though I am glad I watched it, I shall never bother watching it again.

I maybe just wasn't in the right mood for this, but after about half an hour I really didn't much care what happened to "Christian" (Claes Bang), or pretty much anyone else. He runs one of those galleries that puts a glass of water on a dusty shelf and calls it art. You know, emperor's new clothes kind of stuff. His latest "exhibition" is designed to remind the public of their responsibilities to each other but his focus is diverted when he is the victim of a pickpocket. No phone. No wallet. He devises an unique way to get them back by putting a note through all of his neighbours' letter boxes delivering an accusatory ultimatum. Curiously enough, that's not the only stupid idea he has as this rather plodding drama meanders it's way from one bad decision to another for 2½ hours. It reaches it's most bizarrely surreal when the entertainment - "Oleg" (Terry Notary) - at a very fancy fund-raising dinner goes quite spectacularly wrong, but there are plenty other daft scenarios as he tries to sort out a marketing campaign, manage a curiously sterile relationship with "Anne" (a dreadfully wooden Elizabeth Moss) and deal with an increasingly exasperating kid (Elijandro Edouard) who seems to think his own family think he nicked the stuff! To be fair to Bang, he does manage to imbue quite a decent degree of insufferable arrogance as his pompous character finds all of his comfort blankets taken away and himself exposed to a society that couldn't care less, indeed is even openly critical, of his obvious double standards. I did like the premiss, but auteur Ruben Östlund indulges himself too completely for me, and I was frankly bored by the end. Maybe a tightening edit could help refocus the humour and the moral of the story? Sorry - not for me.

The big "Goliath" can only thinly disguise his disappointment when his son is born and is barely knee high to a grasshopper. Luckily, little "Goliath" is the apple of his mother's eye, and she has faith in him! That faith is well tested, though, as the scrawny looking tiger "Raja" eyes himself a little snack! This titchy elephant is quite literally bite size, and almost every other hungry critter in the forest has an eye on him too! When the little one gets lost, mum goes mad but the others sense dinner... Everyone knows that the one thing a pachyderm is scared of is a mouse - and when one terrifies the bejesus out of his giant family, it's only little Goliath who stays to face the dangers - and an acrobatic combat ensues. It's not really very original, this - with shades of "Jungle Book" meets "Winnie the Pooh" and "Dumbo" threading through it, it has a certain familiarity. It's got a friendly enough narration from the instantly recognisable tones of Sterling Holloway and the score is very typically George Bruns so it's easy to watch, just probably as easy to forget, too. (PS - I don't think there's a film called "Goliath I")

It's a sunny day on the beach when two egg-characters mime their way onto the sunniest hotspot. Neither are really up for sharing, and playfully at first they begin to bicker about who gets the warmth. Then it's pretty much open warfare. One is expelled and finds solace in the sea but they both continue their squabble with neither realising it's dark and they are both now a bit chilly. Their conflict now gives way to the need to warm up and maybe they should shake hands rather than their teeth? It's quite an enjoyably quirky animation this with an excitable score to complement the message that we might all be better together?

It's been a while since seeing Charles Dance's name on a cast list has suggested anything compelling to follow, and here is just another story that allows him to don a wig, doublet and hoes and help us solve a time-shift mystery. "Eva" (Lotte Verbeek) is studying the history medicine at a remote facility where "Dr. Anmuth" (Dance) is her supervisor. As she delves deeper into the mysteries of her science, she discovers that he was also an 18th century physician at the cutting edge (depending on your perspective) of clinical practise diverting from that hardly evolved since God was a boy and leeches were ten for a pound down the apothecary. Her research uncovers the eponymous piece of literature and that's when we all start to experience the parallel timelines of this story as her 21st century, pregnant, character shows startling similarities to that of an 18th century counterpart "Elizabeth" - a wealthy woman in the care of "Anmuth". Facing modern day pressures from colleagues and latter day pressures from family and friends entirely suspicious of any kind of new thinking, she must walk a perilous tightrope. Verbeek is not a very imposing actor, and here she is supported by the equally unimpressive Sverrir Gudnason ("Lindgren") and though, admittedly, Dance does bring a little gravitas to the proceedings, he too struggles to get what could have been quite an intriguing story off the ground. It looks quite good, cash has clearly been spent, but not on the writing and the talent and that's disappointing.

"Flowers" (Ben Gazzara) reckons there are easy pickings to be had setting up a brothel in Singapore and feathering his nest for a life of luxury back in the USA. Upon his arrival he alights on a collection of ex-pat Brits and befriends "William" (Denholm Elliott) - a decent man, an accountant, with little interest in the goings on in an whorehouse besides balancing the books for it's owners. Needless to say, the local Triad gang don't look too kindly on his interfering enterprise, but events in Vietnam might just provide for the most unlikely of supporters for his increasingly risky venture. Initially I thought Gazzara too lightweight to hold this together, but coupled with quite a poignant effort from Elliott and relying on a solid cast of familiar British faces, the story develops into quite an interesting observation of a man who does, indeed, have some scruples and standards of his own - even if he doesn't mind so much just quite how he makes his fortune! As events proceed, even those priorities begin to be re-thought. It's a bit of a slow starter, this, but to watch the naive cynicism of "Flowers" evolve, mature even, is worth a watch.

It probably didn't help my enjoyment of this thriller that every time I saw Dustin Hoffman I kept thinking he was Jack Klugman! The intriguing story follows the tale of the recently liberated "Samantha" (Valentina Bellè) who has emerged after some fifteen years of captivity in what she describes as a fairly malevolent labyrinth. It demanded that she complete tasks set by her rather more menacing version of a Rubik's Cube if she is to eat, or sleep - and all of this is now being discussed with "Dr. Green" (Hoffman). Meantime, much to the chagrin of the police, private investigator "Genko" (Toni Servillo) is also trying to find out just what happened, and he believes she is not the only victim of this horror. As the story develops, we begin to suspect that somethings aren't right - is she making the whole thing up? It seems so fantastic; we can't really tell fact from fiction either. Sadly, though, Donato Carrisi doesn't fare so well at directing this Benicio del Toro style of dark mystery. At just over two hours long, the film meanders all too often. The plot isn't delivered in anything like a concentrated enough fashion to sustain the interest, and thought it does build well at times, the denouement is rushed and weakly delivered leaving too many new characters til last minute to complete the jigsaw. The acting is all pretty lacklustre and though I thought Servillo did try hard to create a puzzling sense of menace, the rest of this all just fell rather flat.

This isn't really a film - indeed it probably shouldn't be on here at all, but once we get the opening bars of Morricone's "Big Gundown" followed by a slew of fantastic cinema scores from himself, Bernard Herrmann's memorable "Taxi Driver", Nino Rota's "Godfather" and even a bit of Sonny Bono, it becomes one of those concerts that any film fan can just sit back and wallow in. No "Gabriel's Oboe" was curious, but the Danish National Symphony Orchestra and it's choir do justice to the powerful efforts of the likes of acclaimed mezzo-soprano Tuva Semmingsen. I wonder if it's easier to sing words or just to emanate tuneful sounds - like in "Ecstasy of Gold"? So many movies are brought to life by their soundtracks and the original works celebrated here are well worth a listen, more than a watch, to illustrate that well.

A "No fishin" sign isn't going to stop "Goofy" and his grasshopper pal "Wilbur" from trying to catch some fish! The latter critter is the bait to lure the fish to their doom and at first, things seem to be going to plan - but for how long before the fish decide to turn tails on the dog and his increasingly cocky little friend? There's some good animated, all-action, synchronicity here with the increasingly menacing fish, the cheeky bug and even an hungry frog. "Goofy" shares the limelight a bit more than usual with the characters in what's a more substantial and entertainingly scored story, too.

Mixing some sea-shanties into the score, we explore the relationship between mankind and water. What will float and how to propel it? Logs become boats, paddles, oars then sails... Navigation? Maybe the stars can help? Progress shrank the world - but was it really flat? Could you sail off the end, get eaten by a monster, captured by menacing pirates or drowned when Poseidon throws a strop! "Goofy" becomes an expert in semaphore, too - and horn-piping! He will be as fit as a fiddle by the end, and able to stand up straight in choppy waters tying all kinds of interesting knots. Metal ships illustrate the ultimate in maritime mastery as the 1944 wartime message is brought home at the end. It all knits together quite well here with an engaging narration and though a bit repetitive, is quite enjoyable.

In a town where almost a third of the population are "aquamaniacs" we are introduced to "Mr X" ("Goofy/George"). Now a while back, he was just a normal working man, but after he espies a boat shop, his head turns to maritime mush. Water on the brain perhaps? Anyway, he decides that he has to have one for him and his family, and so with water-skiing lessons in mind for "Junior", these land-lubbers head for the nearest lake (along with the rest of his seagoing neighbours) and some daft regatta-style antics ensue. I'm not sure this does the US car industry many favours but there are some fun facial expressions as the water-borne activities become more like a perilous form of water-jogging. We get our own version of a chariot race where even the octopuses aren't safe - but can they win the race?! It goes on a bit long, but is good fun, this.

As the ducks are migrating, they come under some heavy fire each time the approach a watering hole. Then they alight on the one patrolled by "Goofy" whom we just know couldn't hit a barn door with an Howitzer. It doesn't help that he can't tell the difference between his plastic lure and the real thing either! Pretty soon it's clear that he's no match for these ingenious feathered critters and if I'd been him, I'd just have gone home before pneumonia set in or he did himself an injury with his own shotgun! It's fine, this, but a bit too much predictable slapstick, dialogue and kazoo work for me. I reckon the ducks will come back next year!