Up In The Air

This tiresome film looks set to pick up at least a couple fo oscars; it doesn't deserve anyway.
Lets start with the plusses; this is not an utter stinker. George Clooney is still a suave, sophistictated screen presence, with almost literal magnetism holding a soft pull of the viewer towards him. The idea threatens to be interesting at times, with notions of loneliness, modern simulacra and society, the psychological cost of unemployment, and various other modern discourses all rearing their hands at random points. The airport settings are inherently cinematic. This is not a TV movie.
All told though, it's not much of an experience. Firstly, this has to have one of the worst written (non braindead multiplex action category)scripts in recent mainstream memory. Bad lines intrude on the actions, the poor actors pausing at times, stumbling through fragments, as though to convey to the viewer and each other 'this isn't my fault'. Too wordy and unreal at times, utterly predictable, plain cliche. The direction is flabby, scenes go on too long and there's a lot of pointless drawing-the-obvious-out. The interesting settings aren't well shot, no build up is ever sustained to create a specific mood. Music either intrudes or is dreary background fodder.
The ideas are also confused, either lacking in the ability to sustain their arguments or simply reverting to the cracker-wisdom twee when sincerity appears to be aimed for. The film falls apart structurally towards the end, though to be fair this at least gives it a little variety.
All told, it just about holds the attention, but can't ever be categorised as anything but a below par, out-and-out poor movie.

Noi Albinoi (Noi The Albino)

An Iclandic coming of age tale, this is an unrevolutionary but perfectly well structured and charming film. We are slightly unsure why the lead is an albino, apart from that it makes the point that it rather doesn't matter he is aan albino. It has a light tone throughout, whimsical even, and scenes of fine comedy on occasion. The central thrust, if rather ridiculous at the end, is a curious but all the same traditional tale of the end of adolescence and the entrance of real life.
If we were being cruel, we would say it is neither a particularly dramatic (satisfying) drama nor a particularly comedic comedy. Failing to fit into these genre straightjackets is not a fault a priori (though we'd be lying if we didn't mention that it often leads contemporary European cinema to rather pointless blind alleys)however, and the film just about manages, through well paced direction and the beautiful sweeping backdrops of the landscape, along with a healthy variety of twists and subplots, to keep us involved in the ultimately rather surreal tale.

Duck Soup

We suspect a surprisingly small number of people under the age of fifty have actually seen any Marx Brothers films, so the experience of doing so is certainly an exciting novelty, wrapped up in forever images of their representations and parodies across the media landscape where the source material itself is often neglected...
The film is certainly anarchic, profoundly so, far more than any film we have seen in our entire lives. It is almost Beckettian in the sheer pointless flipping and non sequiters and bizarre wordplay and changes and complete lack of narrative structure. The jokes in themselves aren't always, perhaps ever, particularly funny in themselves. Perhaps this is the aspect that has dated the most. It is rather the build up of joke on joke, the endless (non) structuring of chaos across the short landscape of the picture, that builds up its humour. Saying that, we never found ourselves laughing for any moment of the duration; it was more a kind of sick curiousity, a slight feeling of uncomfortableness at the complete lack of structure.
Physically, no performer seems to stand out as particularly talented, the acting is uncertain, Groucho delivers his lines pacily as though not saying anything at all. None is particularly graceful. Some of the tomfoolery undoubtedly required talent, though it is never quite note perfect. I suppose we have been spoilt. Though how they made the horse corresspond to their wishes remains beyond our ken...
Duck Soup surprisied in how much more profound, accidently or not, it is. Beckett is the obvious parallel to draw, the snapping chaos of dialogue becoming twisted and rendering the viewer never quite settled in their own skin. The final scenes are bizarre rather than funny; it so lacks in any kind of thrust, while travelling at such a pace, it attains a sort of spectral poignancy. Truly inexplicable.
Not the most fun to watch, and not a comedy to have one breaking out in laughter. A curiousity though, and one to confound expectations.

Die Falscher (The Counterfeiters)

2008 Foreign Language Film Oscar winner, this is an engaging and snappy story of moral difficulty, characters caught between their own self preservation and wider responsibilities.
Set largely in Sauchausen concentration camp, the viewer is essentially asked to create much of the tension themselves through a (rarely sighted) awareness of the terrors that must be taking place just outside the counterfeiters relatively comfortable quarters. It is a film that demands engagement- and all the better for that. It paints the impossible moral picture well by situating characters rather than symbols in the maze; the acting across the board is terrific, especially from our lead.
We are not spared the view of horrors, and 'commonplace' indignities are, if not disspassionately, faithfully shot. The viewer must learn not to make themselves too comfortable.
The plot fizzes along nicely, not a lot of messing around, even if some of the side-stories don't particularly add anything to what is, after all, pretty much a straightforward one issue tale. Though saying that, the Monte Carlo and liberation scenes certainly do add a level to our appreciation of Salomon as more than just a prisoner; it turns into a fascinating study into the forced degredation of man.
All told, a fine movie.

Gegen Die Wand (Head On)

This German/ Turkish collaboration is a fine entertainment. Without undue characterisation, we are launched into an occasionally hillarious and often entertaingly derivative tale of the growing relationship between the hurt man and the women he enters into on a marriage of convenience.
It is is artfully shot; there are some interesting angles and mis-en-scene, the cuts to the band and singer breaks the action up nicely. It also is succesful in never falling into a lull of genre rules.
All the same, this is in honesty a pretty conventional love story, even if a synopsis of the plot might not give that impression. The action is always enthralling, we come to know the characters (however much we know any of them) through this rather than anything else.
Good fun, keeps the pace up, with a few moments of poignant beauty as little bits of the world crash around our feet. Not metaphysical, but worth watching.

Waking Life

This self conciously odd piece of animation from Linklater is in many ways rather half-cooked, but there are much worse ways to spend ninety minutes.
The camera following our drawn Wiley Wiggins about is shaky and unstable, certainly disoreintating and we are curious to know whther the from of animation made this a necessity. By the time of 'A Scanner Darkly' the part animatory use of actors had improved leaps, and that film is much more succesful at integrating the style to the film it surrounds. It is an arresting technique; the texture and flourishes made us, well, keep our eyes on the screen. It would be wrong to say that it was more than a diversion however.
The film itself can be a little too much like a showcase for the visuals; the (quite deliberate) meandering structure (we look forward to slackers) may not get boring but does leave a certain incomplete feeling. The conversations, especially earlier on, our fitfully interesting but rather shallow. A good introduction for the 15 year old stoner they may be, but when we had knoweldge of the topic the analyses was pretty much artifical or trivial. Though the very raising of the philosophical, scientific and sociological questions ut does should be applauded.
The film is at its best when the script becomes fragmented, the visuals tire the viewer and let them enter a world of hallucination and weightlessness. Rather fittingly, it is a film that both encourages and revels in its soporific qualities.
A film worth seeing if just for the development of the visual technique (though 'A Scanner' would really be the place to go to see this), and for its bravery in at least reaching out for some intelligence. Far from a wonder, however.

A Bout De Souffle

Godard's new-way standrad bearer, this 1960 movie is a good bit of fun. Punchy dialogue, cuts and scene pacing happy to satisfy the viewer and succeed in never falling into traps of boredom or overindulgence.
Not as visually interesting or as considerate of character as, say 'Les Quatres Cents Coups', we generally have pretty ciphers with rather disconnected traits (Lacanian?) gettng caught up in bits of fun or bits of action. It pretty much sums up with its visual improviation and dramatic verve this cinamtic epoch. Don't watch it expecting a masterpiece (unless the innovations especially strike you, which I suppose they could), but it's good fun and the kind of important document we like to study; i.e. entertainment along with your theoretical directorial manual.

Requiem For A Dream

And we come across another film that can't be measured on the good movie/ bad movie scale. Aronofsky, who we like, adapts the Hubert Selby Jnr, who we also like's, novel. In many ways this is not like a conventional film. It is short- just 90 minutes, and the speed in which the narrative moves often made us feel as though we were watching a play.
It is though, the most visual, screeny, if that's a word, type of movie imaginable. Stepping around the pitfall of precocious self conciousness, it uses devices of montage, repitition, and any number of cinematographic tricks to put across the altered states and states of minds of our characters. This is done succesfully, and really the hallucinatory cuts make up the content of the movie far more than a plot does; decentering the audience. It is not an easy experience to view, due to this 'different' nature, but when one engages it is powerful and exciting.
The performances are suitably believable, the earlier comparitively iddylic scenes nicely posed as not glorification, but of understanding. The relations of smack to amphetamines and the TV culture occasionally does verge on the heavy handed. All the same the messages put across are worth repeating, and we should remember that at the time of the film's release (2000) were maybe not so much a staple of the alternative culture.
So, this is a fine piece of work, we look greatly forward to actually seeing (rather than reading sexy interviews) more of Aronofsky's work. He is clearly an innovative director, not afraid to mangle the traditional structures and contents of your well-made movie. These combine to make Requiem feel oddly compelling rather than a straight up classic, but this is hardly a criticism. Righteously good.

La Vie En Rose

The Edith Piaf biopic, it somehow manages to be a perfectly decent, engaging movie, despite the subject matter being essentially dull (in our opinion) and the characters emmeninently slappable.
Marion Cottillard acts her little socks off, slightly too overwhelming for our personal tastes, but she certainly keeps the attention fixed throughout and does not let up for a moment; if you want intensity on screen, here it is. As for Piaf herself, I can barely remember the subject of a biopic we dislike more at the end. From her beginnings we can certainly empathise with 'difficult' behaviour....but when as a fully grown women she continues to act rudely, selfishly, showing no consideration for others, she comes across as an utter brat. A big voice with a small human being inside (we refer to the character in the movie; our knowledge of Miss Piaf outside of this (we do not know how truthful source) is limited).
The script isn't sensational, with some dodgy translations in the English subtitles. The story is oddly undramatic, it lacks any of the usual cliffhangers or dramatic swings. Maybe they should have mentioned the war, or maybe that's a different movie.
So how is this a good watch? As we say, Cottillard is extremely watchable, and most importantly it is directed and structured extremely well. I mean by this things like the scenes are the right length, put in the right order. A good pace is kept through all that happens. I found myself appreciating wuite literally the colour used; perhaps deliberately accentuated. It is a triumph of camerawork, pacing, and adding narrative thrust to the presentation when the plot does not always naturally support it, without false manipulation.
An extremely well made film, slightly hampered by the not always fascinating content. Precisley the opposite of what might have been expectd from the biopic of a life so often cast as outrageously colourful.

Sex and Drugs and Rock and Roll

This film is quite excellent. Andy Serkis is becomes Ian Dury after about thirty seconds, you sympathise, you understand, you stop trying to falsely construct a classical characterisation and instead turly learn how to know someone; watch what they do.
What we really loved about this film is that it doesn't just present the facts; interesting as they are. It really does something. Peter Blake of Sergeant Pepper's etc fame set the titles, and his primary coloured influences steak across a film that gives us frames of mind and the jutting realities of experience rather than documentary evidence. We loved the slight air of silliness surrounding the film; it wonderfully echoed Dury's life and his loves. He is, as we are often reminded, a bit of a cunt, but the film remains a love letter to a man who was, whatever else, magnificent.
Naomie Harris is simply ace as Denise, the side characters (except from the, sorry, always awful Mackenzie Crook) play their parts with gusto and don't let the action slow. Fun and games throughout, a wurlitzer of colours and shapes, great images (especially the gig scenes, then the silences, then the returning bursts). The pathos that always lurks underneath can maybe a little overemphasised in moments, but that is soon pictured and we have the chance to see real people do real things, living real lifes.
A terrific film, that even those not previously interested in Dury's music (i.e. us) will enjoy as an evocation of the human spirit of rapture.

Je Veux Voir

'I Want To See In English', it turns out that this is a documentary, while we watched it as fictional. Though it may not be entirely truthful, at the same time. It's difficult to say. Catherine Deneuve is driven around South Lebanon in an afternoon by a Lebanese actor. They chat away in French, look at the bombed out remains of Lebanon. It's not a beautiful landscape, but tells story's of humanity. Little incidents, a wrong turning, trying to get a permit to film, are interesting diversions.
It's really impossible to know what to make of this film. It's a diverting little time, it makes as aware of the human aspects of the issues, if we had been tempted to ignore them by the neutral reportage and overflow of information we recieve. It's not though really possible to analyse it as a film. Probably worth seeing, maybe.

Good Morning

Tokyo Story's Ozu returns for a fun little film exploring a Japanese village, and the not very much happening of the children and families. Of course, in the daily interactions, little arguments, confusions and domestic happinesses there is much of universal import, the theme of the importance of small talk is stated to us more than particularly illustrated. Yes, it is largely wildly inconsequential and nothing, really happens, but it's a film little film, minimally shot and kept cheeringly simple. The performances are excellent, actors brinking out the fun of the script and the playfulness of the character's as they go about their little interactions. It is really just a portrait of a typical community going about their life, which in itself is more fascinating than any number of high concept blockbusters.
A fun little film, of the type rarely released nowdays, that contains important messages even if the initial impression is of inconsequentiality. Lightweight, but a fine piece of cinema.

The Road

Almost laughably bleak adaption of the Cormac McCarthy novel, the highly thought of post apocolypatic tale touted as wonderfully lyrical. The book had better be, because the plot offers no sense of direction or belief, and the film often lurches into not entirely plausible grimness that makes the whole excercise mildy irritating. The little boys 'pah-pah, pah-pah!' is easy to mock, and visiting violence on all the characters seems like a welcome laugh. Viggo Mortensen with his gruff desperation, barely seems to figure as anything more than a deranged, wide eyed, well meaning but broken man.
Though we don't particulalry find ourselves caring for any of the characters in individual scenes of parable (the whole exercise, for perfectly good thematic reasons, lacks much narrative drive) are well rendered and thoughful (though we wouldn't have ever risked messing with and trying to jack Omar, personally), and the world, though dull and grim as necessary, has some fine framings.
Overall, a not particularly enthralling film, but nor is it brainless.

Bright Star

Jane Campion's biopic of Fanny Brawn, Keats' lover (he obviously features hugely) is a traditionally plotted, but particularly well handled period romance. The language and setting don't get in the way of a fine romance that tightens, constricts the throats of the viewer, the throat heaves as the action must curtail to its inevitable end.
Wishart is suitably wan as Keats, Cornish plays a nicely down to earth Fanny Brawn. It avoids over modernisation, not casting an ironic eye on the mores but simply accepting them as constituent of the films reality. All of this doesn't make it much of a metaphysical experience; it's tied to the story, which is in many ways a largely traditional one in so far as cinematic romances go. Thus, we are forced, in a bizarre way, to follow the sorry to the slightly over wrought end.
However, as said this is a more than solid, occasionally beautiful picture in its evocation of the fields of Hampstead. Not ground breaking, but a fine, chest tighteningly clutching example of its craft.

Sweetie

Jane Campion's first directoral effort, released in 1989, is a funny little film that deserves a bit more thought thatn its surface may imply. The whole style is odd; the character's speak in stilted voices, the dialogue is pretty discontinuous. The narrative is dreamy, and at once grotesque, the portraits of mental illness always remaining funny and routed to the earth, while irredeamably different from the usual screen portraits of such a condition.
The metaphors, of trees and roots, seem initially heavy handed, but in hindsight don't make a lot of sense; which is a compliment, there are layers of forthrightness, not entirely logically explainable, to the character's enigmatic, often highly comic actions. The themes of children, adults acting like them, the ambiguity of the value of this trait, is an interesting exploration.
Well shot, it keeps its energy to the end, and at its best is screamingly funny. Quirky, by in the best way not attempting to be quirky at all.

In The City Of Sylvia

This isn't far from being a masterpiece. A peripatetic view of Strasburg and the continent, a slow burning chance to consider the beauty of the screen itself, this is a welcome antitode to the fast cuts that unthinkly make up the classic cinematic experience.
Everything is beautiful when well considered, which takes time, and thought on the part of the viewer. This film doesn't let the viewer forget themselves; they are thinking, considering what they see, giving the opportunity to truly understand the face and vacillations of the other, this is the true make up of what characterisation should be. Yes, very little happens, and what does happen happens slowly. This does not matter, what we come across is a haunting, slow burning story, so much closer in truth to the realities of fantasy and loss. This treats the viewer as an equal, a partner nearly in the creation of the film. All shot beautifully, leaving us with enough of an elipse to never attempt a false 'grapsing' of the situation.
A film so fine, one wishes as it goes on for it not to compromise itself, to not lost its beauty in pointless endings or even repitious meanderings. It doesn't some of the greatest beauty of the piece lies in the painfully accurate bar room, the look into the tram, the true phenomenology of life.
This is one of the finest cinematic experience one can come across in a long while.

Henri-George Clouzot's Inferno

A film (documentary) that didn't quite no what it wanted to be, a document of a film set and on the man on it descending into pathology, or the showing of an uncompleted film that may well have only fallen off the high wire of masterpiece at the final strain.
It lacked the narrative drive, characterisation, and perhaps raw material to ever really let us know Clouzot (whose earlier works it makes one wish to visit)or any of the stars of the film. The narrative of the chaos is meandering, as the reality was, and we lack much interesting primary evidence, to shock, entertain, or enlighten.
As a revelation of some stunning camera work though, it is vital. Soe of Clouzot's innovations now appear kitsch, but some also still shocks, excites, and makes one indeed wish for the iron fist of a producer. The black and white scenes also contain great momentum and excitment, and it is perhaps in some kind of completion of this project a true great film could lie.
Perhpas lacking the materials to fully side either way, this film is a diverting show of wonderful material, rather incoherently put together. Worth seeing, all the same.

Mugabe And The White African

A stunning Documentary, a proverbial rocket up the backside for the viewer. The finest documentary seen for a long time, and documentaries generally have to be a high quality to be available on the big screen at all.
A beautifully paced and managed narrative is built around firstly the court case for the rights of our subjects to keep ownership of their land. The shocking turns taken were, in the most tasteless way ever, a boon for the drama of the piece, but the beautiful presentation even before this for a fine production from beginning to end.
The real success is that we study peoiple, real humans, not some floating 'idea' above them. The consideration of our white subjects personalised their heroism, gave an understanding of their immense stubborness that the viewer sympathised to such an extent with them to call it nearly foolhardiness.
But this isn't a one sided heroes/villains study. It's people, and it's people. It is recognised that great colonial injustices haunt the present of Zimbabwe. We are shown how Mugabe (the anger engendered is visceral, we want to kick inanimate objects on the way out)isn't just a man trying to, in a horrendous way, right vast wrongs, but his policies have frankly little to do with anything but corrupt personal gain. The film though so considers the subjects so much to ask us to consider the crucial, but perhaps, impossible maxim; hate the crime, not the criminal (the shots of the Mugabe's legal team test the patience of the strongest).
A great film, garlanded with not nearly enough awards, it makes the viewer not only want to, but need to, stand up, do something. As a film, the narrative, characterisation, and use of the Zimbabwean landscape is compelling. As a political document, it stands as a commandment to responsibility.

Seraphine

French biopic of the celebrated painter Seraphine Louis, sticking tightly to her life story through her obscurity and discovery, with the strong performance by Yolande Moreau in the lead role humanising a women whose actions even at the outset are odd, and helping us stay with her as she attempts to understand the changing world around her.
It's an awful task attempting to portray artisitic brilliance onscreen, but this film manages well by focussing largely on Seraphine's daily routines, only allowing us little glimpses as the works are made in her small apartment, at the end of a long days cleaning. It does go on, but we know where we are with it and the length is justified, if a little uncomfortable due to the rather stolid nature of the source material.
Ulrich Tukur is terrific as her German patron, popping up after a fine performance in the White Ribbin a few weeks back.
The film got the major gongs at the Cesars, film and actor, which is pushing it, as it is always at the level of engaging rather than riveting. However, there are some beautiful scenes (especially the very first one), and the portrayal of the not immediately obviously cinematic story of an elderly women's impressionist painting is carried off with intelligence and subtlety.

Tokyo Story

Frequently high in polls of the greatest films ever, for 90 minutes this is a wonderful, thoughtful tale of generational strife, misunderstanding, quiet, heartbreaking sadness. Then it just goes on. And on. And on. And on. And then...on. The same themes are revisted, repeated to us, presumably in case we missed them the first time. We know precisely what is going to happen. Nothing new is added. It becomes tiresome, then almost laughable.
The minimal camera movement fits in with the understated and, to those raised on Hollywood proposed realism, oddly naive acting. We care, and are asked to use our brains, as we notice little snubs and mistakes, small acts of cruelty, embarrasement and dissapointement. The dim lighting of suburban Tokyo is squarely shot, each scene in itself isn't boring, but the same scene 4 times over is.
A film that is beautiful, necessary, and a positive lesson to contemporary filmakers on the overbearing power of understatement. Just excrutiatingly long.

Avatar

The big James Cameron release, which was seen in 2D, isn't entirely awful, but isn't much of a movie either. The dialogue is predictable rather than bad, the action and plot just about help it to justify its 162 minute run time. The characters are it's-a-joke minimally "brought to life", Sigourney Weaver (she's not a quantam physicist, a molecular biolist, she's a SCIENTIST, just one big SCIENTIST, she likes SCIENCE) and her minions explaining the plot to the jock in the lead role. When did it become O.K. for boneheads to become heros again? Post Bush, I suppose. The characters merrily explain the plot to each other, before meeting some lanky smurfs, whose spiritual rituals look like the Lion King on Ice. The fact that we were treated to a scene where the spirituality was explained in scientific terms was a painful add on, and rather a unconconcious dismissal of the very anti-instrumental values it was trying to promote. Though that'll have to be more fully considered when we have our film based on the life of Habermas.
The attempts at political paralleling were pretty incoherent, the message at the end was basically that blowing shit up is bad, but if shit gets blown up, it's perfectly awesome to blow shit up in return. Fine, just don't make a big moral gesture about it.
The world created is oustanding in its detail, though whatever's wrong (apart from for enviromental/practical reasons) with shooting in an actual rainforest with actual spectacular wildlife is beyond me. This scape is though curiously badly shot, with no sense of scale or wonder ever really given. Might've been the 2D, might have been Cameron's inadequacy.
It's a stupid film, a little boring, and all in all, a bad film. It is not, however, an absolute disaster. They meant well.

Up

A perfectly good animated movie aimed at kids that will appeal to adults too. The hoopla over the silent montage is worth it, it's charming and will bring tears if your eyes have ducts (we are jealous of you). The movie is well plotted, a coherent middle section, a beginning and an end. Sure, you can read the plot off beforehand, but the jokes are god, the action's genuinely exciting, and if the kiddiewinks aren't too fussed about a little teetering on cliff tops they shouldn't wet themselves. A good message, nice to see an older citizen as the hero and an obese child as our co-star. Also refreshing that the voices are unknowns, and what difference does that make? Precisely. The animation is smooth and easy on the eye, if not the cutting edge. All the same, this film'll last when your Avatar's are glue.

The Darjeeling Limited

An awful, awful film. Like the gaps in a comedy between the jokes. But with no jokes to break up the monotomy. What the hell happened to Wes Anderson? Fanastic Fox is mildly crap as well. We remember Rushmore as charming, Zissou as delightful, but then....oh dear. The American Indie hipper than thou stable are all out pretending to be pretentious idiots, and succeeding, though the moniker falls to the actors themselves rather than their characters. Owen Wilson is especially annoyingly superior. Thanks for the comic book depiction of India, I know it's an outsider's view, but a little bit of understanding would be nice.
And the short film at the start was excrutiatingly annoying. You have to have a pretty bloody good reason for not explaining what's going on, but this had none.
Non-Hollywood movies ditch the Hollyowood structure as their directors should be artists to the extent they can carry it off. When a Hollywood director does it? 99% chance of disaster.

Slumdog Millionaire

Heavily over-rated, but still fine, proto-Bollywood fable. The colonial mindset is still in place; the horrific torture scenes and tales of grinding poverty can't really be placed in conjunction with the wonderfully exuberant cinematography of the slums. It was a little like being preached to "oh, it's so bad, so sad, look at these poor children, but look, they're so happy when they can be, look at the beautiful surroundings, let's all go to India". It was a shame that none of the main characters seemed to have much lasting damage from the terrrors they were meant to have lifter through (a blinding there, chop off half his leg or something. A scratch on the cheek doesn't count). The love story was formulaic as well, it would have been nice if Latika had been given any characterisation at all. (The Characterisation all around was way simplistic). When the plot holes came thick and fast near the end, they failed the test, I did care about the inconsistencies.
We're being grouchy though, it's a good film. Danny Boyle isn't the finest director, but he lays out the sotry nicely, it's a fine set up given. There is tension at the end, and, hey, it is schmaltz, but this is Bollywood. A little exciting, weak in parts, but worth a look if you've so far avoided the raving hordes.

Inglorious Basterds

Your reviewer hasn't yet walked out of a film before the conclusion, but the drastic step was certainly considered half an hour into this. Not that the film's bad; in fact it's not far from being one of the best films of the past year. Tarantino is a master at unravelling scenes, blocking the action, building up tension through seemingly meaningless dialogue (even if he may never break the habit of having every single character talking like mid-30's white male nerds). The potential walk out was rather over the glorification of violence the film proffers.
For the rest of the movie, even with this consideration in the back of the mind, the film was greatly enjoyable, the long running time skipped by without complaint. The counter argument of course runs that it's obviously a Comic Book style movie, i.e. the violence is deliberately ridiculous, it's nothing more than a revenge fantasy, which would be fine by this reviewer. However, the problem with Inglorious is that it's rather too good to be simply a cartoonish reveller in wish-fulfillment violence. Daniel Bruhl, Christopher Waltz, the Goebbels characterisation, all let us in (largely due to terrific acting, though give Quentin some credit there too) to full believable characters, so the director's denying their rights by promoting their horrendous demises seems slightly off colour. An interesting film to consider, and you can't give much higher praise than that.
And, we need the occasional reminder to counteract all the rubbish surrounding, Brad Pitt is a fine actor.

An Education

Not exactly jump out of your seat exciting, but a perfectly well made slice of 1961 England and the pressures of being late adolescence. Carey Mulligan deserves awards for avoiding the pitfalls of hysteria and tedium, as our lead. It's shot unspectacularly but with grace, the finest scenes focussing on the quiet repressions of the family's mother and blowhard father.
Even our villain isn't cast as entirely reprehensible, which is a step forward, though we have to keep reminding ourselves of the quaint mores of the time to follow the logic of the character's excitements and decisions. And it would have been nice if the "fabulous" lifestyle Jennie falls into was rather more "fabulous" than brown hotel rooms and dog racing. Though I suppose that's part of the point.
So, not earth-shattering, but more than pleasant.

The Stranger

A post World War II relative success story under the direction of Orson Welles, this tale of a detective (Edward Robinson, who we like) discovering a nazi war criminal (Welles himself) playing nice in smalltown America isn't a masterpiece, but is a solid, well-made example of the craft. Welles plays Welles rather than his part, unnecessary lectures thrown in and all, but looks good. There is none of the flair that might be expected from the man who had just made Citizen Kane (well...an unfair comparison), and the mood isn't conjured with much spirit. The story's a good one however, the final scenes have true tension, revelling in interesting considerations of the veils of normalcy used to cover the most heinous sins.
Was this the first 'reds under the beds' movie? The entire film seems to be about how the dangerous Other lies within our very midst. This is obviously a key consideration for all cold war Hollywood thrillers/horror movies, but may well see its foreshadowing here. I doubt Welles would have made such quite obvious allusions a decade or so later, his politics far away from the reactionary paranoia of McCarthy-ist influence in 50's-70's Hollywood.
If it does hammer these considerations home a bit too obviously, we still go along for the ride.

West Side Story

The Classic Musical, the 1950's update of the Romeo and Juliet story set in, well, the West Side of New York. Music by Bernstein, Lyrics by Sondheim Short of a couple of obvious known songs (America etc) the music isn't all too memorable, and the dancing isn't in the same league as your classic old Hollywood musicals. The story is perfunctory, with sweet if not rounded performances from our Romantic leads. The tragedy, for what it's worth, doesn't rise to anything more profound than a tick in the box for those reading along with the Shakespearean lines.
All the same, the story snaps along, the campness of the highly unrealistic gang warfare means there's always a frothy momentum to keep the viewer entertained, and such a mainstream movie exploring themes of immigration and racism from the outsider's perspective is to be applauded. A mildly distracting, if not particularly memorable, experience.