Sleepy Hollow (1999)

I really should have written sooner how chuffed I am to be amongst this week's guest editor's recommendations -- and welcome to any new readers!  Tommy has been one of my most consistent commenters since early on, probably because we both have a penchant for weird and not so weird foreign movies -- although he is FAR more tolerant than I am.  Then again he wonders how I put up with watching so many crappy mainstream films -- and believe me I don't even comment on a lot of them, but I consider it all part of my ongoing education and seeing everything provides me with the tools (I hope) to really differentiate the exceptional from the mediocre.  Or that's my excuse.  If you want to discover who else Tommy reads, use my link on the right to his journal.

Anyhow back to the business at hand.  When there are no new (to me) films seeking my attention, I fall back on my own collection to watch certain favourites, often  for the third or fourth time -- and for some real favourites, more often than that.  In the last few days I have revisited "Duel to the Death" a seminal Hong Kong film from 1983 with the spectacular fights and wirework now receiving a wider audience through movies like "Crouching Tiger..." and "Desperado" from 1995, the middle film in Rodriguez' Mariachi trilogy -- both suitably escapist.  (You might ask from what am I escaping.)  And a third look at the film named above.  By and large I appreciate Tim Burton's gothic sensibilities and can even forgive his mistakes like the Apes re-make (or re-imagining as he would have it).  This one is his tribute to the Hammer horror films of the '60s and includes a number of British faces in the cast.  Of course the fact that Ichabod Crane is played by Johnny Depp is sufficient in itself to guarantee a good time for all. And Christopher Walken's razor-toothed Hessian is the stuff of nightmares -- tell me, does Walken ever play normal?  

On the way down?

It's always a little sad when favourites from the past seem to be trying just that little bit too hard to salvage what may or may not be left of their careers.  Two cases in point over the last few days:  Michael Keaton so very sure of his persona in the past, but looking weary and out of it in "White Noise", a not uninteresting study of a grieving widower trying to contact his late wife through electronic images, but also making contact with malevolent spirits.  Probably a lot of hooey, 'though not badly done, but hardly the vehicle for gaining a return to A-List status.  And then there is Sandra Bullock, never a great actress but a likeable screen presence and always a good sport.  Now that she is over 40, she can't really get away with her girl-next-door image, even when she tries to re-visit a previous hit with "Miss Congeniality 2", reprising the role of a tomboyish FBI agent given a makeover to a beauty queen. It was pleasant enough viewing and even had a few laughs, but in no way will it resurrect her career.  More's the pity since I like both actors.

The Edukators (2004)

I tried very hard to like this German film for which I'd seen the trailer some months back -- and it did seem interesting as the "revolutionary" young people of the title broke into homes to rearrange the furniture into artistic heaps, but not to steal, and to leave their message to the rich that they had too much money or that their days were numbered.  So far so good since I guess we all passed through a stage in our lives where we believed that we were the chosen generation and that only we were capable of putting the world to rights.  However coming to this movie as one past that stage, I know that people do alter and that idealism usually gives way to practicality.  The three main characters, two young men, friends from childhood, and a girl -- originally the lover of the one but increasingly attracted to the other -- were not the easiest characters to take and reminded one just how self-centred and blinkered the young can be.  On one escapade the owner of the house returns unexpectedly and not knowing how to deal with this, they kidnap him to earn the time to put their thoughts into perspective.  However it transpires that he was an even bigger rebel than they in his day some thirty years before; while he can agree with many of their beliefs, his view is tempered by the realities of the world.  The final message of the film underlines the youngsters' belief that genuine and politically-motivated people never change -- but they do, oh they do. 

Les Choristes/The Chorus (2004)

I had expected this French film to be overly manipulative in wringing an emotional response from the viewer, but this was not as it happens a bad thing and my reaction to the film felt both real and moving.  A big hit in France and an Oscar contender, it is the story of how the new principal at a school for awkward boys (not quite a reform school) manages to break through their hostility to the school's staff and the world through the magic of music.  As played by Gerard Jugnot -- a veteran of many films but a new name to me -- a physically uncharismatic man managed to reach all but the hardest nuts with his warmth and sincerity.  And the music!  I shudder to think what an American remake might employ, but here we were given the sound of angels.  While his time at the school was brief, his influence on the main characters is the stuff of legends and goes a long way to re-instating one's faith in humanity.

Duelle (1975)

The National Film Theatre is doing a season of films of the French director, Jacques Rivette, and since I have only previously seen a few of his (with mixed reactions), I thought I should further my education.  I chose the above picture because it sounded interesting -- but there is a fine line sometimes between interesting and idiotic.  From the programme it read as if it might be some sort of fantasy film and I am normally a sucker for fantasy; it was, but the struggle between the goddesses of the moon and the sun to obtain a special diamond that will enable them to spend more than their annual forty days on earth was so obscurely presented that I spent most of the film trying to work out what was going on before I even worked out which of the various female characters were the goddesses and why other characters were being casually murdered as tainted by their exposure to the stone.  It was a silly tale poorly told, although I can see some cineastes hailing it as a masterpiece simply because it was so obscure and non-linear.  The most interesting bit of business from my point of view was the pianist who kept unexpectedly appearing in scenes where he had no business appearing and who provided background music to the action, much as a silent film accompanist might. But don't ask me to explain this without getting all pretentiously philosophic.  

Side by Side (1988)

It's not that I haven't viewed any recent films in the last few days -- I have -- but there is nothing much I feel like saying about any of them.  In particular I saw "Constantine" with Keanu Reeves and Rachel Weisz and couldn't make head nor tail of what was going on -- or for that matter care; maybe if I were familiar with the graphic novel it would have had more appeal, but I doubt it.  I also viewed "Hotel Rwanda" which falls into the "worthy" category, cataloguing noble behaviour in ignoble circumstances; however it managed to put me to sleep of which I'm not particularly proud! Add to that a Canadian TV movie about a young cancer patient being taken to the Brazilian rainforests to find a blue butterfly which will immediately cure him (supposedly true) and a Australian effort from 1993 called "Love in Limbo" which featured an early role for Russell Crowe playing a 20-year old Welsh immigrant to Oz -- actually a reasonably jolly coming of age movie set in the Fifties -- but not one liable to come to a TV set near you. 

So why have I chosen to write above the above equally obscure television movie?  Well mainly because it was a warm and charming comedy of old age (perhaps I am feeling my years!) and brought together three American television icons for the first time: Milton Berle, Sid Caesar, and Danny Thomas -- all well-known names from long ago.  The gist of the tale was that Thomas is let go from the clothing company where he has worked since he was a lad as he is approaching his 65th birthday and experience and devotion no longer carry any weight.  So he and his two childhood cronies decide to set up their own business manufacturing clothes for seniors.  Caesar is actually the right age for the role but Berle was 80 when the film was shot and Thomas, the widower and Lothario of the three, was 74.  Never mind, it manages to be a heartfelt and satisfying story as the trio overcome all of the obstacles that could be thrown their way and ends on an uplifting note without becoming hopelessly twee.

Jolson Sings Again (1949)

What they say about lightning not striking twice is probably true, but this sequel to "The Jolson Story" (probably the only sequel to a biopic in film history) was nearly as successful as the first movie, but to my mind much emptier.  Everyone concerned with the first movie is present and correct in the second with the exception of Jolson's love interest, now played as a down-home Arkansas nurse by Barbara Hale, who nursed the ailing Jolson when he broke down while entertaining the troops abroad.  This entry covers our Al as nearly the forgotten man, encouraged by his new wife, his old papa, and his faithful manager, until such time as the first movie came out and resurrected his popularity and his career.  However here we are given big chunks from the first film and the somewhat surreal spectacle of Larry Parks playing the older Jolson being introduced to the actor Larry Parks who will play the younger Jolson.  Try getting your head around that. The songs though are still something special in their old-time way.

The Jolson Story (1946)

This is about as whitewashed a biopic as Hollywood ever produced, but still a slick bit of entertainment, as long as one is prepared to forget about the truth.  From what I have read, Al Jolson -- the "greatest" entertainer of his day -- was in life something of a bastard in his single-mindedness, and the so-called love story as portrayed here was ultimately so bitter that his first wife, Ruby Keeler, refused permission for her name to be used for the character played by Evelyn Keyes.  Also, parenthetically, I somehow doubt that his religious parents would have so openly welcomed a "shiksa" to their family.  But let's forget about all that and concentrate on the mainly feel-good story of how the young Jewish boy stands up and sings at the vaudeville show, runs away to join the circuit under the tender care of William Demarest (giving a wonderful performance), seizes the opportunity to shine as a minstrel performer, and ultimately conquers Broadway and Hollywood.  He was, you will recall, the star of the first talkie and the person who laid the ground for the modern movie.  But even here one is given some idea of just how obsessed and egocentric a performer he was.  Larry Parks (before he was sent to Purgatory during the communist witch-hunts) does a first-rate job in the title role mouthing to Jolson's voice, and the latter can be seen in long-shot during the "Swanee" number.  However I have little doubt that when the film was first mooted Jolson would have contended that only he could play the role, despite being way too old for the movie.  And of course modern sensibilities do shudder a bit at the thought of performers in blackface.  Despite all of the above reservations, it is still a fine bit of hokum.

The Ladykillers (2004)

It is virtually impossible for me to totally dislike any Tom Hanks performance, even if I can't abide the film in question, and indeed he is the best thing in this ill-conceived remake of the Ealing classic.  However what possessed the Coen Brothers to remake the movie in the first place is a very good question.  Their films up to "Intolerable Cruelty" were, to use a single adjective, brilliant and their riffs on various genres were consistently interesting.  However they began to lose me as a fan with the Clooney/Zeta Jones effort and this movie nearly slapped the lid on their coffin.  However, I am a forgiving soul and hope for better from them in the future.  Despite a likeably fruity performance from Hanks, nothing whatsoever has been gained by relocating the action to the US South and the home of a religious black lady (a good enough performance by Irma Hall) and the balance of the gang particularly a toilet-mouthed Marlon Wayans add virtually nothing to the mayhem.  And does any adult audience need a character who suffers from irritable bowel syndrome?

L'Inhumaine (1924)

As you may have gathered by now, I have a real interest in silent film and try to see as many as opportunity allows.  However, let me confess that not all of them are worth the effort and this one is a case in point.  Or to be fair, it was worth seeing as a rather splendid example of 1920s art and design with stage sets by Leger and other avant garde artists; it even had the occasional interesting filmic effect.  What it didn't have was a story that was ever anything but idiotic nor talented actors.  I subsequently learned that the film was largely financed by an American singer called Georgette Leblanc who also took the lead, the inhumane female of the title.  They obviously had vanity pictures even then, as she was too old, too fat, and too unattractive to play the femme fatale -- and even worse she couldn't act.  At one point, I am convinced, her right breast popped out of her gown briefly and that was pretty off-putting too.  To add insult to injury, the film (at the National Film Theatre) was late starting as the person employed to do a voice-over translation of the French intertitles (!) was late arriving -- and a pretty grotty job of translation she did as well.  It was a very long two hours, not helped by the inanities of the plot.

The Animal Factory (2000)

Since neither terrestrial television nor satellite have deigned to show this movie, the sophomore directing effort from character-actor Steve Buscemi, I finally watched the DVD, although I was not exactly swept away by the tale.  Based on the novel of ex-con Eddie Bunker (Cf: "Reservoir Dogs"), it is a gritty prison story, but no "Shawshank Redemption".  It is anything but a "feel-good" film and follows a young and recently-arrived convict Edward Furlong (what has become of him?), a middle-class drug-dealer who has been sent up as an example.  Before he can become the plaything of the various hard men, he is taken under the wing of lifer Willem Dafoe who more or less runs the joint and who protects him according to his own particular code of honour; some explanation for Dafoe's interest was given, but not really understood by this viewer. Finally an escape is planned but pans out somewhat differently than one has been led to believe.  While watching this movie I kept looking for Mickey Rourke who was credited but who didn't seem to be in evidence.  It wasn't until the end credits that I discovered that he played the cross-dresser with whom Furlong first shared his cell; it certainly fooled me.  This was Rourke's first role at the start of his so-called current comeback and it was a doozy.

Buffet Froid (1979)

Black, black, black is the colour -- not of my true love's hair but of this French comedy (also known as "Cold Cuts") which is one of several unusual films that the young Gerard Depardieu made with the director Bernard Blier.  They actually star together in this one which concerns itself with what can only be described as casual death and murder.  It opens in the Paris Metro where Depardieu accosts a mild accountant whom he later finds murdered with his own knife; however he doesn't think that he did it.  Soon his wife is found murdered and her killer ingratiates himself into the casual circle which includes Despardieu and Blier -- the only two tenants in a high rise block.  Blier is a police inspector but is far more concerned with crimes other than murder, which is just as well as the dead bodies continue to pile up.  All of the characters are 100% sociopathic or at least completely distanced from what normally constitutes modern morals and all the happier for so being.  By the end there is no one left bar a young woman only recently arrived on the scene as each character falls victim to some sort of perverse justice. 

Mysterious Skin (2004)

The earlier films from the director Gregg Araki concentrate mainly on nihilistic teenage angst and remain something of an unacquired taste on my part.  While this film might be considered more of the same, it is considerably more maturely told and in its own way, moving.  The story follows the development of two teenaged boys, both of whom had been abused when they were eight years old by the same paedophile/baseball coach.  One of them, remarkably brought to life by the ex-child actor Joseph Gordon-Levitt, may feel something of an outsider being raised by his single mother, but he has accepted the past (or thinks he has) and raises petty cash as a willing hooker for sad, sad Johns.  The other boy, an equally accomplished Brady Corbet (not an actor I can recall seeing before) has sublimated his experience into believing that he had been abducted by aliens.  However the status quo can not remain.  Gordon-Levitt moves to New York to join his childhood friend, Michelle Trachtenberg, and soon discovers that not all paid encounters involve pliable repressed men.  (I wish to mention here the very brave performance by B-movie villain Billy Drago playing a gentle AIDS sufferer).  Meanwhile Corbet has flashes of recalling his young baseball team mate, tracks down the now-chastened Gordon-Levitt and faces the true facts of his own odd behaviour and black-outs.  What one doesn't know is whether either character will find the strength to face the future.

The Ten Commandments (1956)

Hard as it may be to believe with the hundreds of films I see each year, there are some "classic" movies that I have never seen and this is one of them -- I just couldn't be bothered previously.  But what a hoot...a veritable camp cavalcade.  It was Cecil B. DeMille's last hurrah, a remake of his 1923 silent and being the ultimate showman, everything had to be bigger and more epic than anything that had come before.  There is a well-known conversation between Harrison Ford and George Lucas when the former read the "Star Wars" script; Ford said, "You can write this sh*t, but I can't speak it".  Well the script here is from the same school with lines that are laughable in the mouths of most of the actors.  Oddly enough, only Charlton Heston as Moses and Yul Brynner as Rameses manage to inhabit their roles believably; most of the other actors seem totally anachronistic.  In particular Anne Baxter as Nefretiri looks as if she is still trying out for a part in "All About Eve" and the various dancing girls come across as escapees from a Busby Berkeley musical. But it would be churlish to fault DeMille's vision, as long as one is prepared to admit that this is his very personal view of the biblical tale.  The scale of the production and the special effects are still impressive and I now regret that it has taken me this long to see this incredibly well-done but hilarious movie.

Finding Neverland (2004)

While it may have been inspired by actual events, the story of the author James Barrie and his relationship with the Llewellyn Davis family has been a little loose with the facts.  For a start there were five boys who were the children of friends (not come upon in Hyde Park) and Mrs L D, as played by Kate Winslet, was not a widow at the time.  But never mind; the changes serve a moving dramatic purpose and help explain the child-in-the-man of Barrie as he befriended them.  Johnny Depp gives another virtuoso performance as the playwright, although his fastidious Scottish accent was beyond the call of duty -- it would have played just as well without it.  Winslet too was very moving as the Earth Mother doomed by illness.  The imagined sequences that illustrated the youthfulness of Barrie's imagination were more than well done, as was the genius of his installing children at the first performance of "Peter Pan" to ensure its acceptance by an adult audience. The near-end scene where a private performance is staged at Winslet's home as she is about to enter Neverland is guaranteed to produce waterworks from all but the most cynical.  My only other comment is that Radha Mitchell as Barrie's angry wife and Julie Christie as Winslet's sceptical mother were in fairly thankless roles.

Hitch (2005)

Will Smith is no slouch when it comes to choosing entertaining and profitable roles, and he does it again here as a "date doctor" teaching social misfits how to win the girls of their dreams.  His current client, Kevin James, (only known for a TV serial not shown in the UK) was in pursuit of an heiress played by ex-model Amber Valetta.  Both of them were remarkably good in their roles and I actually found myself rooting for the success of their relationship.  I was a little less concerned whether Will would manage to link up with Eva Mendes, who is a little abrasive for my taste, but of course love will out.  It was the sort of movie where the viewer could turn off his brain cells, but still have a good time.  Which is all that is needed sometimes!

Tristan+ Isolde (2006)

I had tickets for a preview of this film and while I sat through its interminable length, I kept thinking that it probably would have been less painful and less time-consuiming to attend the Wagnerian opera of the same name.  Well, probably not...but it did seem to go on forever in its ponderous and overblown way.  While it is meant to tell of one of the great love stories, it was all a bit too well-meaning to compensate for all of the very brown battle scenes.  We have the hero and heroine "meeting cute" when his Viking funeral boat washes up on the shores of Ireland to be discovered by her, and of course, realising that he is not dead, she and her handmaiden immediately strip off to keep him warm!  Alas she must marry Lord Marke, the future unifying King of England, played remarkably well by Rufus Sewell, and her forbidden love for Tristan, Mark's right-hand man, can only end in tragedy.  Sophia Myles and the American actor, James Franco, fill the title roles attractively, but I can't help but feel that it was two hours of my life that I will never regain.

Good Friday and bad movies

Yesterday must have been Bad Movie Day on Sky, at least for me.  I thought I would catch up on some recent releases not viewed previously, but what a dispiriting effort.  I started off with a kiddies' cartoon series called "Land Before Time" which is now (believe it or not) up to part eleven or in movie parlance "XI" -- the mind boggles.  Actually this is a rather sweet little series suitable for the under fives about baby prehistoric animals and their escapades -- but maybe not too suitable for your writer.  But my theory was that I had seen the first ten...  I know, I'm sad!

This was followed by "Son of the Mask" a very belated sequel to the Jim Carrey film from 1994 but needless to say without Carrey.  It starred a singularly talentless actor (there seems to be an endless stream of these in US so-called comedies; they must come off equally unfunny TV shows) and a convoluted story that was heavily dependent on CGI.  The first film certainly had its moments; this one had only the occasional amusement.  The movie also suffered from casting Alan Cumming (who must be one of the most mannered and annoying actors available) as Loki, God of Mischief, and an unrecognizable Bob Hoskins as an oversized Thor.  Good grief.

I had higher hopes for M. Night Shyamalan's "The Village"; after all, "The Sixth Sense" was pretty intriguing and "Unbreakable" was interesting, if not as good.  The fact that I hated "Signs" should have prepared me for this disappointment.  To put no finer point upon it, the movie was appallingly bad with little believable mystery, only one or two jolts, and very indifferent acting.  Ron Howard's daughter in her first lead had good notices for playing the blind heroine, but I had all I could do to put up with her mumbling.  She was matched mumble for mumble by Joaquin Phoenix as her love interest who is stabbed by the village idiot, played by an over-the-top Adrien Brody.  As for William Hurt and Sigourney Weaver playing the elders, they both seem to have wandered in from other movies in search of an elusive paycheque.

I tried to round out the day with a DVD of  "The Strong Man", a Harry Langdon silent comedy from 1926.  I had seen this before and I thought it might cheer me up; however it was nowhere near as good as I remembered and Langdon hardly deserves the "rediscovered genius" tag on the cover.  An occasional chuckle, but nowhere near the versatility or appeal of a Keaton or a Harold Lloyd.

Vital (2004)

Having seen most of the Japanese director Shinya Tsukamoto's previous films which include the two extremely weird "Tetsuo" movies, I was expecting something a little unusual, not the very small and fairly slow film presented here.  Tadanobu Asano, probably the leading Japanese actor of his generation and something of a chameleon in his roles (think back to "Ichi the Killer" if you've seen it), plays a young medical student who is suffering from partial amnesia after a car crash in which his girlfriend was killed and where he was driving.  She has donated her body to science and as chance would have it he is to spend the next four months leading a team in dissecting her body.  Gradually he begins to recognize her and to remember some of what has happened, although much of what he recalls is only taking place in his mind.   To the disgust of a very neurotic co-student who fancies him and wants him to share her own death-fantasies, he is in love with a dead woman.  The film has a lot to say about the nature of memory and the meaning of death, but by and large it speaks quietly, but movingly.

The Interpreter (2005)

When this film was released the big news was that the director, Sydney Pollack, had received permission to actually film the story at the U.N. where it is set.  Well, big deal...this doesn't make it any better or any more believable.  The story concerns Nicole Kidman as a U.N. interpreter and among her many accomplishments is the ability to understand an obscure African dialect (spoken by about eight people!) in which she overhears a death threat to an about-to-visit head of state.  In comes Sean Penn as the State Department investigator who at first disbelieves her story.  Eventually he learns that some evil doings are afoot but also that Kidman has another agenda as well.  I can't say that I found the procedings particularly gripping and while both actors performed well enough, the overriding feeling was that this was only in pursuit of another paycheque (particularly for Penn).  At least the film had the good grace not to make them fall in love or seek a future together, despite the growing affection between them.

5x2 (2004)

I see that AOL have downloaded a new header which has set the counter back to zero and which now tells me that only three visits have been paid to this site in the last ten and a half months.  Pretty good going AOL.  Or maybe I should be less neurotic about how many people visit and how few comment, since I really keep this blog for my own amusement!

Back to the business at hand, my reaction to this French film from Francois Ozon, one of the current star directors of French cinema and something of a miserablist if one treats "Eight Women" as an anomaly in his work -- since I find that all of his other films have a mean streak lurking underneath.  This particular movie is from the "Memento" and "Irreversible" school and starts with the end of the story; what we have are five scenes from a relationship, starting with the couple's divorce and working back through the everydayness of marriage, the birth of their child, their wedding and their initial attraction.  While each of these episodes is nicely realised, one is really none the wiser as to why they have divorced (or for that matter why the wife has agreed to a post-divorce final shag).  And the strong impression that I took away is that the husband was a right bastard throughout the relationship -- even in the final tender shot of their wading out in the surf at the Italian resort where they found each other, one is aware that he had arrived there with his girlfriend of five years.  Yes, life doesn't always or even usually produce happy endings, but do we need our noses rubbed in it? 

A Very Long Engagement (2004)

Anyone who hopes that the re-pairing of the French actress Audrey Tautou with the director Jean-Pierre Jeunet is going to result in another "Amelie" is going to be disappointed, as this film is a very different kettle of fish.  Set during and after World War I, she plays a lame young lady who refuses to believe that her childhood sweetheart and now lover is dead, despite his having been arrested with four other army misfits and having been sent to certain death over the enemy line.  She retains some of the optimism of her Amelie character but without the quirky ingratiating quality; here Tautou plays determined and persistent, and one is caught up in her obsession until the movie reaches its not-quite-expected ending.  The period and battle scenes are beautifully recreated, but the film is probably a little too long and with too many characters to fully absorb the viewer.  I have a lot of time for the director since his early films "Delicatessen" and "City of Lost Children" rank amongst my favourites, and it is his incredibly visual eye which is the strong point of this film, rather more so than the generally fine acting.

Calvaire (2004)

I've been sufficiently distracted of late that I've been lax at posting new reviews and considered doing one of my periodic catch-ups, however there is sufficient to be said about a number of recently viewed films that I will try to post some individual entries as time allows.  This Belgian film intrigued me when I first read the reviews and I hoped to see it in the cinema, but it seemed to disappear as quickly as it arrived.  In a way this is not too surprising as nasty art house films for the horror brigade do not have much of a ready audience.  The story concerns a self-absorbed professional singer, but not one of any great talent or career, since the film opens with his entertaining at an old folks' home.  While driving South in deep fog his van breaks down and he is led by a very weird man who is searching for his lost dog to a nearby inn.  Here the nightmare really begins as the seemingly genial host (the inn, incidentally, is no longer in business) promises to arrange the repair of his van in addition to a good meal and a bed for the night.  Needless to say he has no intention of letting him go since in his insanity he has decided that the singer is his errant wife returned.  And the local villagers are no use either since they seem to be refugees from the nearest loony bin and ready to indulge in a touch of the "Deliverances".  One feels that not just our hero but the viewer as well has wandered into some kind of hell from which there is no escape.  So far so good, but against this weird storyline one has the annoyance of the occasional hand-held camera shots which add nothing, plus the fact that the film literally just stops without any meaningful clues to possible resolutions.

The Hitcher (1986)

Last night I watched the Bruce Willis vehicle "Hostage", but can't work up the enthusiasm to post a review, other than to say that he periodically began emoting like crazy, as if acting awards were given to drivel like that.  So I'll comment on the above movie instead and it's hard to believe that it is now nearly twenty years since I first viewed it.  In the meantime it has become something of a cult favourite and understandably so, as Rutger Hauer portrays a vicious and nearly unstoppable killer.  I wrote of him recently that his career has taken something of a downward spiral, and while his American roles were never as powerful as his early Dutch ones (like Spetters, Keetje Tippel, and Turkish Delight), he was something of a whirlwind force back in the 80's.  Here he plays against C. Thomas Howell as the young driver that he terrorizes; Howell too had the makings of a career back then, but it has subsequently gone down the toilet.  It doesn't pay to look too closely at the logic of the story, but the terrifying symbiosis between the two leads draws one in.

Long before the "Kevin Bacon Game", we used to play our own game linking any male and any female actor, like say Mary Martin and Steve Martin, minimising the number of links.  Any pair with more than one film in common was a "oner" and "The Hitcher" reunites Hauer with Jennifer Jason Leigh (before she got all affected) -- the previous pairing being "Flesh + Blood".  It's fascinating how Hauer moves from having forced his lust upon her the year before to tearing her in quarters here.  But that's our Rutger for you.

Crainquebille (1922)

To maintain my record of trying to introduce you to some real obscurities, I present this silent from 1922 which is based on an Anatole France short story and which has apparently been made three times -- not that I have ever seen the other two.  It concerns an old vegetable seller who is sent to jail for proportedly telling a policeman  "Death to the cows" -- I guess Paris cops are cows, not pigs.  The fact that he never said this and that on his release from 15 days in jail he is no longer able to earn a living since none of his former faithful customers will have any truck with a convict is the sad result.  He tries to get sent back to jail where he had a comfortable time by actually saying the phrase, but the kindly cop he accosts just feels sorry for him and tells him to be on his way.  Since you are not likely to find a copy of this movie at your local Blockbuster, I can tell you that it does have a fairly happy ending.  What I particularly liked about the film directed by Jacques Feyder, was the imaginative use of camera tricks; for example, in court our man was shown in miniature surrounded by overwhelming lawyers, judge and jury.  A most delightful discovery. 

More Studio Ghibli

FilmFour have finally shown the two missing animes from Ghibli and keeping up their pathetic record, they managed to show both of them in dubbed versions.  By the way for anyone who cares about these things, FilmFour will cease to be a subscription channel in June and will go on to Freeview.  What this means in practice is that they will start to show their films with ad breaks and probably a horrid logo as well.  So much for their saying that they project movies as the director intended!  It wouldn't surprise me if their scheduling becomes even more mainstream than it is at present (they've even showed "Police Academy"), so I guess I'll be less reliant on them for my viewing pleasures come the summer.

Anyhow, back to the two films shown.  "My Neighbour Totoro" from 1988 is one of Miyazaki's classics which I have seen before, and while it may appear pitched to the youngest denominator, there is still much for the adult eye to appreciate with his painterly style.  The story concerns two sisters whose mother is in hospital and how they are befriended by woodland spirits (that only children can see) and a 10-legged cat-bus (really).  The other was "Whisper of the Heart" from 1995 and like most of the Ghibli films concerned a teenaged girl.  She is absorbed by books, finds magic in an imagined world, and reluctantly finds love with a young man who wants to create violins in Italy.    There is also a mysterious cat which weaves in and out of the tale which seems to be another Ghibli obsession.  Not your typical Hollywood animation then.

Raising Helen (2004)

Well I didn't hate this movie as much as I thought I would since Kate Hudson has always seemed over-hyped to me and her co-lead, John Corbett, has annoyed me ever since I first spied his airy-fairy, hippy character in TV's "Northern Exposure".  She plays a feckless young career woman lumbered with three children on her eldest sister's death and he plays a Lutheran pastor running the school they attend, and despite everything she learns to cope and "lurve" blooms.  The whole shooting match was ever so twee but saved from complete nausea-inducement by some smart dialogue and by just-about-standable child actors.  The best part of the film was the presence of Joan Cusack, playing the super-mom middle sister who wasn't given custody; every one of her line-readings were remarkably brittle and real and helped make the film all the more watchable for a cynic like me.

13 (Tzameti) (2005)

Well, I'm back and while I usually start with in-flight movies reviews, I can't on this occasion.  Why, you ask (or not)?  Well I usually prefer to fly Virgin to and from New York, since they have the best entertainment system.  However the whole system was up the spout on the outward flight and all they could do was to run a single film with no soundtrack (unless you could put up with crackly static -- and it's amazing how many idiots had their headphones on!).  I know that the second of the two they projected was "Mrs. Henderson Presents" which I could get the gist of without sound, but for the life of me I can't now remember what the first film was (yes, it must have been that good!)

However all systems were functioning on the short return trip (when I tend to fall asleep) and I watched most of a new Jackie Chan -- a Hong Kong one, not one of his feeble US ones -- called "Myth" (I think) in which he played two characters, a modern archaeologist and an historic general charged with protecting a princess, and where there seemed to be some time travel between the two personas.  Maybe it would have been OK if I managed to watch it all.

However I did see all of "13" which I had considered going to see in the cinema and mighty glad I am too, even if it ended on a low note (like life, Tommy would say).  The film was in black and white (fine with me) and in French (also fine with me), but directed by a Georgian (that's Russian-Georgian) director, son of another well-known director and starring his brother as an immigrant worker in France.  He overhears his most recent boss talking about some scheme that will net lots of cash, and when the latter dies of an overdose, our protagonist manages to take his place.  What he does not realise that he has agreed to participate in an extreme form of Russian Roulette from which there is no backing down.  He is participant number 13 and during the intense and horrific action that follows, one must decide if 13 is a lucky number or not.  I won't give the game away here, but the ending is both expected and hideously unexpected.  Good stuff, so maybe I can partially forgive Virgin.