Reviews

Is it a crime to confess that Lucille Ball is my favorite "Mame"? There is a sincerity, sweetness and heart to her performance that I find more affecting than Roz Russell's ardency or Angela Lansbury's acidity. Lucy's version of Mame is the one I'd most like to dine with: a touch more human and not merely a bangled monument to "joie de vivre." Many have eviscerated her vocal performance, but I find her husky, talk-singing style well-suited to Jerry Herman's lyrical wit and uncomplicated melodies. "We Need a Little Christmas" brought me to real tears, something I had not experienced in many plays of the cast album.

Others have roasted "Mame" for its old-fashioned quality, but that's what makes this handsome, expensive production stand out in the context of its time. It feels like the last gasp of a dying art, an ultra-grand Hollywood studio musical defiantly emerging from the self-serious New Hollywood era. It's also simply *well done*: the choreography is lithe and beautifully executed, and Theadora Van Runkle's costume work positively gleams. Balls gets a few wonderful physical comedy bits, and even roller skates! The two-hour plus runtime flew by. This one deserves a serious reevaluation.

"Sitting Target" is a bit like "Cape Fear" if it were made from Max Cady's perspective. Oliver Reed plays an amoral convict staking out a quest for vengeance against a wife who, quite understandably, left him during a long prison stint. It's a brave choice to make the protagonist so thoroughly detestable. Early on, we learn he murdered a postman because he "wouldn't let go of the bag." One of the most unnverving scenes in the movie involves Reed splish-splashing in a luxurious bath: seeing him slip so quickly into childlike play accentuates his unstable nature.

The movie opens with an exceptionally well-executed prison escape sequence that is tightly constructed and beautifully shot. When I looked up the director and cinematographer, I expected to see names far better known than Douglas Hickox and Edward Scaife. Reed really gets to show off his hulking strength in the escape, particularly when he suspends himself from his cell's water pipes. Fresh-faced Ian McShane makes for an interesting foil as his cunning criminal partner.

This astonishingly brutal and blood-soaked picture still has the power to shock. This is one of the finest British crime films of the 1970s, and would make a great double bill with something like "Villain."

"Fear No More" is a nifty little B-movie sure to please fans of the woman-in-peril subgenre. Mala Powers plays a young woman recently dismissed from a mental health facility, only to be ensared in a devilish plot to frame her for murder. One-time filmmaker Bernard Wiesen really keeps things moving, never giving the audience a chance to get bored. Apparently, Wiesen worked on the set of "The Trouble with Harry", and one imagines he picked up a thing or two from the master.

What really elevates this for me is the presence of Jacques Bergerac. I've seen him in a number of these low-budget affairs, and he always classes up the joint with his (extremely) thick French accent and his manful, Gallic charm. The guy's simply a joy to watch, and he gets to play a genuinely decent person here. John Harding, recognizable from his many TV roles, is a nice contrast as a hatable slimeball who just barely keeps it together when his plans are threatened.

This is adapted from a 1940s mystery novel by Leslie Edgley, so the script is a touch more intelligent than a typical production of its kind. This would make a good double bill with "Woman in Hiding", another tale of a gaslit woman helped out of impossible circumstances by someone believing in her against all evidence.

"Dreamin' Wild" is an artful, lovingly wrought tale, enchanting in its wistful melancholy and profound love of music. The film's defining feature, and also its main flaw, is the inherent smallness of its story. The key key facts about the Emersons are revealed in the movie's first few minutes: two Washington farmboys poured their heart and finances into producing a privately pressed album in the late 70s, which decades later is rediscovered and championed by a boutique rock label.

We're treated to extensive flashbacks of the making of the album, but not much really happens from there in terms of plot. Casey Affleck and Noah Jupe give pitch-perfect performances as the adult and adolescent versions of Donnie. The support is excellent, with Beau Bridges disappearing into the role of a self-sacrificing father. Affleck and Bridges together are a delight to watch.

Much of the film's narrative conflict revolves around Donnie Emerson's difficulty accepting sudden vindication after decades of thwarted attempts to break into the music business. His bitterness and reticence to embrace his good fortune can be frustrating at times, but it does feel psychologically authentic. The sheer acting firepower given to these small conflicts can feel a bit overwrought.

The best part of the entire film is when we get to witness the adult, real-life Emersons play a small live gig. Donnie Emerson's voice has matured into a wonderfully soulful instrument, and their performance wraps up this small but tender tale very movingly. Here's to more forgotten artists like the Emersons getting their chance to shine!

"The Crystal Ball" is a screwball that's genuinely *hilarious* for much of its runtime. In fact, I'd venture to say this one's a good bit funnier than many critically acclaimed top-tier comedies of the period. I'm puzzled by the middling reception it's gotten over the years. Every single actor is cast perfectly and the script, courtesy of the ingenious Virginia Van Upp, remains whip-crack through its brief runtime.

In fairness to the movie's detractors, the plot really is ludicrous beyond words. Things kick off when a maid hides the emerald ring of her dizzy society dame employer, advising her to visit a fortune telling psychic who's aided in retrieving similar objects. Things just progressively wackier from there: we get to spend time at carnival shooting gallery manned by Cecil Kellaway (of all people) and watch Ray Milland get genuinely crushed in an avalanche of watermelons!

All the scenes with Gladys George in her fortune teller's tent are pure gold. I loved that she had a small arsenal of "Who's Who" books to assist in her hot readings of society matrons, somewhere near the side room where she keeps her ectoplasm handy! Paulette Goddard, who's been hired as George's assistant, affects a terrific Southern belle accent when she's in a spirit trance (her character's from Texas).

The best scene has Ray Milland bringing Goddard home to a random apartment because she doesn't want to reveal she's living with a fortune teller. It happens to be the home of a bitterly feuding alcoholic couple, with poor Paulette quickly getting caught in the fray. The wartime propaganda in this one is kept to a minimum, although there's a cute bit where Hitler, Mussolini and Tojo serve as targets at the shooting gallery. When hit in the right order, they trigger a musical number and kick each other in the rear!

I can't rave enough about this one. That "The Crystal Ball" is so good yet so comparatively unheralded is a reflection on how accomplished the Hollywood studio system was at this time. They were making so many great pictures at such a fast clip that gems like these get lost in the shuffle.

"BAB" is one seriously distinctive science fiction film, certainly one of the best blind buys from a dollar bin I've made. The grimy, bombed out environs reminded me a bit of the "Fallout" games, but the vibe here is artier and bleaker. The eccentric world building also brought to mind 1989's "Sonny Boy", sans the comedic absurdity. Although budget limitations are frequently apparent, the production design and visuals are quite strong, nailing the dingy, lived-in locales. The casting is very well done, with the actors all having world-weary visages that bespeak their troubled pasts.

In an alternate history 1959, Minston County is ruled over by brutally repressive local despot Bascum, a hypocritical puritan known for conducting impromptu amputations of defiant citizens. He's particularly vicious towards local sex workers, conducting cruel treatments and experiments to "correct" their bad behavior. Bascum lives in a small fortress protected by a gaggle of misfit guards. His increasingly resentful mistress Rhoda is required to indulge his fantasies. Donnie, the son of one of his victims, works with gifted tactician Milt to end Bascum's brutal reign.

Sterling Macer, Jr., practically steals the show as Milt, the mystery man who convinces Donnie to seek revenge for his mother's mistreatment. Veteran actress Suzan Crowley is also striking as the jaded, Dietrich-like Rhoda. Things slow a bit in the final act once the revenge plot has concluded, but the film's last moment ends up being its most powerful. It's a real shame "BAB" hasn't found its audience. I hope it can find attain some kind of cult status eventually. Thanks, Echo Bridge!

I watched "Cold Moon" immediately after completing Michael McDowell's source novel, a Southern Gothic ghost story so gripping that I devoured it in a single evening. Given this adaptation's poor reception and the director's directorial pedigree (his other works include "Arachnoquake" and "Trailer Park Shark"), I was certainly not expecting what I got.

It turns out "Cold Moon" is a *very* faithful adaptation of McDowell's masterful tale of guilt and revenge, including a great deal of the book's original dialogue and all its major characters. Given the novel's fairly simple plot, little had to be excised, with all the major haunting sequences being recreated with respectable fealty. Even the cars models were roughly comparable to the book.

This is admittedly a tonally shaky production that dips into camp at times. Christopher Lloyd hams it up big time, but even that makes sense given the book's description of as him affecting a whiny old man demeanor to annoy his sons. Tommy Wiseau (!) even shows up for a cameo as a snake handler! The film suffers from an annoyingly loud and quite generic soundtrack that belongs in a lesser film.

Those flaws aside, this low-budget sleeper is a more interesting and compelling horror film than the vast majority of its more expensive peers. This is another case where it makes sense to ignore the ratings and come to your own conclusions.

"The Perfect Tenant" is a taut, well-constructed little TV thriller with Maxwell Caufield slipping once again into the role of a steely psychopath. Blue-eyed, impossibly photogenic Caufield makes for such an unexpected villain that you can't help but delight in all the havoc he wreaks. There's some genuinely nasty stuff here that wouldn't make it into a similar production today: we get a forced potassium chloride injection, a staged recreation of a Christmas suicide, and some pretty intense trauma flashbacks. I was surprised several times by the approach this film took: it packs up enough fake-outs and feints to keep any made-for-TV thriller addict satisfied.

I appreciated that all the major twists were largely out of the way by the halfway point, allowing us to revel in the mayhem rather than waiting for a big reveal. "The Perfect Tenant" is solid stuff, although one would be advised to check out Caufield in the terrific "Mind Games" first. That movie also features him as a family-disrupting psychopath, but with more of a darkly subversive bent.

I knew I was in for a treat when the crunchy new wave title track for "La balance" started playing, and the next 100 minutes didn't disappoint. I'm accustomed to French crime movies with a bit of an arty or philosophical bent, but this one is all pulp, all action. Proudly wearing its influences on its sleeve with several references to Steve McQueen, this will greatly appeal to fans of movies like "Bullitt" and "The French Connection." It must be said that the cops here are seriously ethically dubious: they're misogynistic, xenophobic and constantly pushing the limits of legality to get their man, but these aspects are presented matter-of-factly rather than in a purely glamorizing light.

Nathalie Baye is superb as always as a kind-hearted but guarded sex worker pushed into an informant role, but her character leans too heavily on cliché. More interesting is the smaller role of Galia Salimo, a trans actress who makes a major impression in her scenes as a local wheeler and dealer trading in stolen goods. This is a punchy, well-constructed crime tale that warrants another look.

I'm a real sucker for movies about fake psychics and occult scammers, and "The Mind Reader" makes for a very fine entry in that sparsely populated genre. Warren William really gets to muck it up as a skeevy huckster who makes his money as a traveling fortune teller. Always one one step ahead of the simple-minded authorities, he never stays long enough in one whistlestop town for his parlor tricks to get exposed. When he falls for Constance Cummings, he begins to seriously question some of his life choices.

Although the tone is rather jaunty compared to something like "The Spiritualist" or "Nightmare Alley", there are a few dramatic moments showing the moral peril and self-centeredness inherent to psychic swindling. William has one great dramatic moment where he breaks down on stage in Mexico, drunkenly abusing the crowd while showing a truly hideous side of his personality. It's one of his finer bits of acting. The film also looks great, with plenty of imaginative angles and vivid lighting that emphasize Chandra's crooked nature.

It didn't take long for "Junior Miss" to hook me in. The dialogue in this light family comedy is unusually lively and laugh-worthy, likely owing to its origins as a play adapted from Sally Benson's autobiographical short stories. Peggy Ann Garner is perfect as wannabe matchmaker Judy. She's a very natural actress for her age: although precocious, she knows knows when to keep it low-key and is never overly spunky in that grating kid actor way.

The movie's best bits are Judy's scenes with her best friend Fuffy Adams, played by Barbara Whiting. Fuffy is a total hoot, reeling off endless movie references and snappy lines while scheming with Judy. Although Fuffy fits the "homely best friend" stock character typically played by someone like Nancy Walker, the movie never mocks or derides her. Fuffy just gets to be Fuffy!

Set during Christmas and New Year's, there's plenty of fun seasonal content, making this a nice addition to any Old Hollywood Christmas playlist. It's puzzling that this this forgotten gem has managed to avoid finding an audience for so long!

"Sombra verde" certainly starts off with a bang. Ricardo Montalbán plays a Mexican businessman taking a jungle trek to scout locations for a milling operation. When his inexperienced guide reveals they're totally lost, things get desperate quickly. The manful Montalbán is quite strong in these harrowing scenes, doing his best to keep his humanity in a rapidly deteriorating situation. In addition to being a good actor, he looks absolutely amazing. With his broad shoulders and pectorals etched in marble, he's truly a sight for sore eyes.

Things really go off the rails in the film's the second half, a romantic melodrama presumably inspired by "The Tempest." Ariadne Welter plays a free-spirited girl who's spent her entire life in a small jungle compound, but she somehow sports an ultra-fashionable 1950s Italian-style haircut and a slinky party dress. The romantic scenes were a total dud for me, and I found Welter's childlike dialogue and naiveté off-putting. There are also a few shots of animal cruelty, as mules are depicted struggling rushing against fierce river tides. It's hard to recommend this one plainly.

Although marred by its broad racism, "West of Zanzibar" is a feverish, sadistic conte cruel that haunted me after viewing. Lon Chaney's physicality is as astonishing as ever: the scenes where he's crawling on the floor after being paralyzed below the waist are amazingly realistic. No one can manifest menace like Chaney, even after he's confined to a wheelchair. Poor Mary Nolan is put through absolute hell as the chess piece in his decades-long revenge plot, and the moment where Chaney's reduced her to total desperation for alcohol is quite disturbing. This also the first time I've seen Lionel Barrymore looking remotely young before, although he's not given much screen time.

This isn't as good as "The Unknown", another Tod Browning/Lon Chaney collaboration it has much in common with. Too much of the story takes place in a single room, and there's a distinct lack of exposition in the film's first half. Still, this is a remarkable work and we're very privileged it survives.

Let's start with the most important fact: Naomi Ackie kills it as Whitney Houston in "I Wanna Dance with Somebody." When her casting was announced, some were put off by their lack of close physical resemblance. No matter: Ackie handily disappears into the role. She is particularly expert in capturing the cadence of Whitney's speech, conveying her fiercely independent personality in all its charisma and occasional prickliness.

This is a movie that puts Whitney's career front and center, with a special emphasis on her relationship with Arista records founder Clive Davis. Stanley Tucci makes for an impressively spot-on Davis, although perhaps his portrayal is a bit too reverent. The scene where he confronted her over her spiraling drug addiction was tough to watch. I appreciated the lack of cheap psychological gimmicks to explain away her troubles.

Whitney's important, long-lasting lesbian relationship with creative director Robyn Crawford is finally given its fair shake here. Crawford is a deeply fascinating figure in her own right, and their scenes together pop. Apparently, Crawford has written a book on her experiences and I'm very curious to check it out.

The musical highlight is the near superhuman medley of "I Loves You Porgy", "And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going" and "I Have Nothing" from the 1994 American Music Awards. Whitney's original voice is thankfully used for the singing parts, as if any other choice was possible for the greatest vocalist of the 20th century!

Music biopics do seem to bring out a special kind of snobbery and faux-cleverness from critics at times. Were you really not expecting to see Whitney singing in church or signing her first record deal? These are the facts of her life! They are told beautifully and compellingly here.

The plot of "La volante" will be familiar to anyone who's spent time watching Lifetime movies, but predictability doesn't harm this delicious morsel of a French thriller. Nathalie Baye delivers another masterful performance as the mother of a car crash victim who's now seeking revenge against the driver and his family. She ingratiates herself into his world without his knowing her identity, slowly becoming a critical figure in his life.

Baye is great in this, expertly conveying quiet rage simmering underneath a calm exterior. It's hard not to root for her at first, especially given how much of an uninteresting schlub the man she's pursuing is! The psychological insights may be a bit shallow, as is often the case in this sort of film, but Baye's performance adds more than enough depth and interest.

As a devotee of sleazy 90s thrillers, I ought to have liked "Blind Side" a lot more than I did. Rutger Hauer reprises his "Hitcher" persona, stalking an immoral yuppie couple after they flee a hit and run in Mexico. Hauer's scenery chewing excess is certainly the main attraction, but his character makes no sense. He's somehow both an evil genius and incredibly easy to manipulate, with his aims remaining totally inscrutable throughout the film.

The script is terribly weak, never generating any sense of urgency or threat in an interminable stream of fights, confrontations, aborted seductions and confusing twists. I had serious thriller fatigue by the end. The Brian May score (not *that* Brian May) is all over the place. I was particularly puzzled by the smooth jazz elevator music in the credits. Watch "Unlawful Entry" instead!

"Jericho Mansions" is a seriously eccentric indie thriller with a surprising amount going for it. Acting heavyweights James Caan and Geneviève Bujold are both featured in inspired late career turns. Caan gives a nuanced, intricate performance as the mistreated handyman for an apartment building. Bujold reaches for the rafters as a wrathful landlord that despises Caan and wants to see him put away. They're really fun to watch together, with the always welcome bonus of Jennifer Tilly to add to the camp and surreality.

In addition to the strong performances, this arty film sports an elaborate visual style that punches way beyond its meager budget. There's even unusually effective use of CGI to explore the building's cavernous interiors. There's probably a little too much going on in this very ambitious movie: it can be tough to keep track of the apartment dwellers and their significance to the story. Still, things wrap up with a bang (!) and I was thoroughly satisfied.

"4D Man" starts off a little bland, but the bombastic jazz score with its screaming horns and wailing bongos kept me engaged. I'm glad I stuck with it, because there's some pretty wild stuff waiting in the second half. This fairly rote sci-fi tale takes a dark turn, opening up in a horror direction with elements of vampirism. There's even a really solid jump scare that made me jump back in my seat.

As someone who only knows Robert Lansing through his extensive TV career, it's a real joy to watch him do his thing in a proper feature. His Dr. Nelson is riddled with ennui, anguish and disgust with a world that's taken him for granted. You really feel for the guy, although he perhaps doesn't respond to his troubles in the most productive way!

There's a scene in "Miss Annie Rooney" that ranks among the most awkward I've ever seen in a movie. Poor high school girl Shirley Temple is at her wealthy boyfriend Dickie Moore's birthday party, having just won over his snobbish friends with her dancing skills. Unexpectedly, her father William Gargan bursts in, determined to demonstrate to Moore's industrialist father a system of converting millweed into rubber. He practically burns down the whole place in the process. The level of cringe is so off the charts that I had to pause the movie to collect myself.

That scene exemplifies the strange divide in the movie. Half the scenes are lighthearted fun with Shirley Temple and her teen gang, the other half is a really depressing kitchen sink drama centered around the constant family crises caused by her dad's impulsivity and flightiness. The upbeat scenes are much better and less contrived, with plenty of 1940s jive talk, jitterbugging and jury-rigged jalopies. There's a nifty swing dancing scene where Shirley really gets to really let loose, although Moore is obviously doubled. Unfortunately, there's a rather silly happy ending tacked on that will make you roll your eyes.

The main novelty in "Guilty as Sin" is Don Johnson playing a sort of "homme fatal", an inversion of the murderous temptress trope found in so many 1990s thrillers. Johnson is such a ridiculously charismatic and attractive actor that I practically cheer when he pops up in this sort of movie. He's great as sadistic gigolo David Greenhill, but this movie is no match for his much stronger thriller projects like "The Hot Spot" and "Goodbye Lover." Rebecca De Mornay, playing Greenhill's defense attorney, largely goes through the motions and never matches the vibrancy of Johnson on screen.

The Larry Cohen script is ridiculous, easily straining and bursting the limits of credulity. Although it does go in a few interesting directions, there's too much borrowed from "Jagged Edge." Cohen telegraphs all his punches a mile away. As soon as we're introduced to Jack Warden as De Mornay's best friend Moe, we know exactly what's going to happen to him. Maybe I've devoured way too many sleazy 1990s thrillers, but I found myself able to predict exactly what would happen in the next scene at several points.

"Mute Witness" is an absolute *blast*, a sheer adrenaline rush of suspense and menace that managed to make gasp multiple times. This one has a really unusual premise: while working on a low budget horror film in Russia, a mute special effects artist witnesses the after hours murder of a woman on set. Unfortunately for her, she's noticed. The stealth sequence that ensues is a truly bravura slice of De Palma-influenced movie making: I applauded when it ended. The movie doesn't really let up from there, never letting the audience catch its breath.

Russian actress Marina Zudina is superb as Billy Hughes: despite the film's on-the-nose title, her disability is handled with surprising intelligence and care, especially given this was released in 1995. "Mute Witness" is one of the great unsung thrillers of the 1990s. We even get the nice bonus of Alec Guinness as a Russian mafia boss!

The difficult mother-daughter dynamic in "The Night Digger" instantly put me in mind of "Grey Gardens." We have Patricia Neal as the caretaker for her elderly mother, Pamela Brown, living live together in a dilapidated mansion. Brown is superficially friendly but often caustic, intolerant and manipulative, seizing on her daughter's guilt and self-doubt to keep her at home.

Neal has become increasingly regretful of the years she's spent tending to her mother's needs, as she thinks back on lost loves and missed career opportunities. The scenes between Neal and Barker are meaty enough to make up their own film, and Neal delivers a real master class in film acting. She's utterly believable in her every word and mannerism.

Like "Grey Gardens", the pair take in a young handyman to fix up their property. Despite Neal's initial hesitation, she grows increasingly fond of and attracted to the young man. Unfortunately for her, he turns out to be a *deeply* troubled individual, and the movie takes a macabre and progressively disturbing turn. Ultimately, this movie left me utterly heartbroken, despite occasional relief provided by screenwriter Roald Dahl's famously perverse humor.

"The Night Digger" is one of one of those boundary pushing, perverse psychodramas that the late 60s and early 70s provided us in ample supply. Although imperfect, this sits nicely alongside the likes of landmarks like "Reflections in a Golden Eye" and "Secret Ceremony."

Soap actor William R. Moses really gets a chance to show his off acting chops in "Alone with a Stranger", playing a dual role as an evil twin scheming to take over the identity of his more successful brother. This is a bit more violent and nasty than your typical Lifetime movie: Moses is a calm, collected psychopath who kills without hesitation. The scene where he threatens to shove his stepson's hand into a garbage disposal is positively nerve-wracking.

Moses has to carry the whole thing on his sturdy shoulders, though: wife Barbara Niven barely makes an impression, while coconspirator Nia Peeples is wasted in an underwritten role. Barely anything happens in the sideplot with Peeples and the captive good twin, and it throws off the film's pacing quite a bit. Still, this has plenty to please connoisseurs of TV thrillers.

It's almost cheating that Brett Morgen chose David Bowie as the subject for "Moonage Daydream." It's hard to imagine someone more magnetic, hyper-articulate and visually compelling than Bowie. He's practically the perfect documentary subject, and it's nearly impossible to make him boring. Bowie's innate fascination does cover up for some of the odd choices made in this visually and aurally striking phantasmagoria.

Morgen has created an incredibly insular, almost solipsistic documentary, one that exists entirely in the headspace of David Bowie the artist and musician. This is achieved by near exclusive reliance on old interview clips of Bowie, interspersed with live performances, snippets of music videos and photoshoots. Bowie talks a great deal about the creative process, art's relation to everyday life, and much more. I found his insights on aging to be particularly insightful. Artists and musicians will be particularly drawn to this documentary.

Although a loose chronology is followed, a non-fan would have a hard time piecing together any kind of timeline from this. There's also no effort to contextualize Bowie in music history. You won't hear the phrase "glam rock", nor any references to Bowie's contemporaries or legions of followers. Critical aspects of Bowie's life, like his years of drug addiction, are only vaguely alluded to. Considering this movie is being released in IMAX format all around the country, I do think Morgen could have taken a few steps to make this friendlier for neophytes.

Although this isn't quite the all-encompassing documentary I had hoped for, I have a feeling David would have really liked it. Morgen lets Bowie speak for himself as an artist. He gives space and weight to overlooked aspects of his life that were clearly important to him, such as his spirituality and lifelong love of painting.

How in the world did I miss "Deathtrap" all these years? It's like this movie was designed in a lab for me! If mysteries with a perverse, black comedy bent are your thing (think "The Last of Sheila"), then you'll be in heaven with this one. The screenplay, adapted from an ingenious Ira Levin play, is brimming with wonderfully acidic dialogue. Sidney Lumet directs gracefully, keeping things visually interesting and well paced, something never easy to do with play adaptations.

Michael Caine plays a self-absorbed, amoral playwright who's just suffered another massive flop. Caine is emotionally and financially supported by his neurotic but very tolerant wife, Dyan Cannon. When a young theatre student, Christopher Reeve, sends Caine a promising draft of his first play, Caine sees the opportunity to finally achieve another hit. The twists and turns start keep coming from there, and your enjoyment will be greatly enhanced by knowing nothing else in advance.

All three leads are pitch perfect, with Cannon practically stealing the show in her lovably manic turn as Myra Bruhl. Caine is so deeply despicable that you come to respect his playwright's gift for plotting evil deeds. Reeve gives one of his best performances: he's knowing, relaxed and appealingly low-key while Caine is flaming mad. It also must be said he's unbearably attractive in some breathtakingly tight pants.

"Deathtrap" is a true gem in the wonderfully idiosyncratic catalogue of Sidney Lumet. I'm looking forward to digging deeper into his eighties output.