dharmendrasingh Reviews

Aguirre, the Wrath of God (1972)

Cannibals, Incest and Gold

[6/10 · 8 July 2013]

Here's a 'must-see' film, which after a long-awaited but anticlimactic screening I would rebrand as 'see if you must'. The one awe-inspiring fact about Werner Herzog's much-admired 'Aguirre, Wrath of God' (1972) is that it got made at all.

As messianic as the maker himself, the film charts an ill-fated 16th Century Spanish Crown expedition to Peru and the Amazon in search of the fabled gold of El Dorado.

Tranquil wide shots belie the true nature of the place. The heat stifles, the raging river demoralises, the paucity of food consumes. The nobility are quickly overpowered by the unforgiving environment.

Capitalising on the band's resignation from their quest, a rebel soldier, Don Lope de Aguirre (Klaus Kinski), inspires a mutiny and assumes leadership. He pushes the men to their limits, forcing them to go further, faster. Meanwhile the 'Indian' slaves free themselves of servitude and periodically resurface to arrow their former captors to death.

The expedition doesn't enervate Aguirre as it does the others. It enlivens him. As his sanity declines, he declares that he will marry his daughter before conquering other places and then overthrowing the monarchy.

Kinski was one of those die-for-your-art actors. Steely-blue eyes set among an intense, rough face gave him the look of a noble hobo. He might well have come closer to the crazed characters he played than any other international star. Herzog often used him, though theirs was love-hate relationship, and their fights are the stuff of legend.

There are many memorable moments in 'Aguirre'; indeed I best remember it as a series of quite dazzling set pieces. Take the raft scene where a horse loses control and dives into the river. Or the superbly edited shot of a head being lobbed clean off. Or the final scene, featuring an army of common squirrel monkeys.

The opening long shot remains the most breathtaking: the entire crew slowly snake their way down an imposing mountain; a visceral metaphor reflecting their insignificance – a sequence that would only be done with CGI today.

Throughout, the film is visually arresting and remarkably static, except for occasional paroxysms. It's an arduous watch and I think overrated, but you may genuinely not see anything quite like it – except for other Werner Herzog films.

The Great Gatsby (2013)

F. Scott Fitzgerald would have approved

[8/10 · 14 June 2013]

F. Scott Fitzgerald would have loved this film. Baz Luhrmann stays true to the spirit of the book whilst preserving his directorial integrity. In some ways it's a perfect marriage. Both are men of style and lyricism, of romance and passion.

I read the book only a few days before my screening – the first time I have ever done so. I was expecting a tawdry adaptation but Luhrmann has actually made the best film of his career. I needed his imagination to fill the blanks in mine.

I quickly realised, as I followed every single detail with childlike awe, that this adaptation is piously faithful to the book. Perhaps it's better described as a literal translation. Words and precise sensory details – not just scenes – are lifted from page and pasted to screen, as when Nick Carraway first sees Daisy in her East Egg mansion. The 'coloured' references are appropriately kept in, and the party scenes are faultless.

The players are sensational. Carey Mulligan simply IS Daisy. Waiflike, elegant, beautiful, innocent – which man wouldn't devote his life to her? Amitabh Bachchan does much to bring Bollywood closer to Hollywood with his brief but key turn as shady 'businessman', Meyer Wolfshiem (a bold but brilliant casting decision).

Joel Edgerton also perfectly embodies his role as the macho philanderer Tom Buchanan. He's never been better really. Tobey Maguire is likewise excellent as Nick Carraway, the narrator from whose perspective the story is told. To be truthful it's a thankless role because he has only to look awestruck every time he sees Gatsby. Fortunately, Maguire and DiCaprio are real life friends, so the awe does not have to be feigned.

Highest praise is reserved for DiCaprio, one of the few great actors yet to receive an Oscar. His take on Gatsby wouldn't have been out of place in the time of Bogart, Cagney and Lancaster. Indeed his entrance is as memorable as the quick pan upwards to Bogie's face in Casablanca, or Welles's chair spin in Citizen Kane. When reading the book I struggled to see who could play Gatsby. Two seconds of DiCaprio's movements made it obvious.

Some question if the book is indeed a classic. Whatever the merits of the book (I think there are many) I believe the story of a boy who dreams of greatness, then pursues it to validate the love of a woman, only to die vainly, pitifully, should resonate with anyone with a heart.

Lana Del Ray's angelic vocals help to evoke pathos, particularly her moving track whose lyrics 'Will you still love me when I'm no longer yours' encapsulate the story beautifully. On the other hand, Jay Z's music, presumably only used because he's oddly an Executive Producer, is an awkward juxtaposition, but luckily it is too brief to be a major distraction.

In some places there is a bluntness to the storytelling which undermines the power of the book. The beginning feels very rushed as the camera darts from one shot to the next. But these are mere peccadilloes in what is otherwise a glorious film, which masterfully captures the wild hedonism of that enviable era.

The Reluctant Fundamentalist (2012)

The War on Ignorance

[8/10 · 14 June 2013]

What a shame, though how predictable, that the multiplexes chose not to show Mira Nair's brave and provocative political thriller about the intricacies of fighting extremist Islam.

Nair uses Mohsin Hamid's fictional novel to explore very real Western attitudes towards the East in the ongoing 'war on terror'. She has directed a film of huge cultural, political and moral significance at a critical juncture between the Muslim and non-Muslim world.

Rising star Riz Ahmed (Four Lions) gives a memorable lead performance as Changez, a Pakistani immigrant in New York, who has an identity crisis in the wake of 9/11. He returns to live in Lahore when an MIT professor has been captured and held ransom there by terrorists, who use him as leverage to make demands of the US.

Posing as a journalist, Secret Service Agent Bobby Lincoln (Liev Schreiber) visits Lahore to interview Changez, who has developed a reputation for being anti-American. The US authorities believe that Changez, if not a terrorist, at least knows something about the kidnapping. They exert pressure on him by harassing his family, a move which only deepens his hatred.

During their interview, Changez asks Bobby to make a judgement about him only after hearing his entire story, and Changez's reminiscence allows for the film to unfurl as a flashback of epic proportions.

Raised in a secular, literate Muslim household in Pakistan, Changez finds it easy to break the covenants of his religion. He consumes alcohol, eats pork and sleeps with non-Muslims, everything Islam forbids. He wins a scholarship to study at Princeton in the late 90s, where he claims never to have scored a B.

There he is headhunted to work for a prestigious valuation firm where he ensures a rapid promotion by impressing his boss (Kiefer Sutherland). On the day of his promotion the towers come down. He tells Bobby that instead of feeling sadness, he felt awe. 'David had struck Goliath'.

Ahmed gave his most famous performance in Lions, but this is his greatest. As an 'Asian' (I abhor the term but include it for your convenience) man myself, I have long had to suffer stereotypical performances by brown-skinned actors, who are used by ignorant directors to add colour and Schadenfreude to their ignorant stories. Ahmed transcends all that. This time we're analysing the reactions of White actors.

Changez's hatred of America germinates slowly, against his will, as his life slowly falls apart. Colleagues turn on him. The bond he had with his widowed girlfriend Erica (Kate Hudson) withers. Ordinary citizens view him as the enemy. His choice to move back to Pakistan is made for him.

Nair purposely shows much of Changez's life back home, as one of her clear aims is to challenge some key stereotypes. Changez's father (Om Puri) is a distinguished poet, not a farmer or rickshaw puller. The family is quite well off, not destitute. And the country is generally shown to be colourful, vibrant and civilised, instead of corrupt, backward and dangerous, as we normally see.

The horror of the recent Woolwich (London) terrorist attack may do something to restrict the impact of this excellent film. Paradoxically, the attack serves to reinforce the arguments of the film. It makes several points, makes them powerfully and forces you to in future question what you are told.

Mud (2012)

Helluva Film

[8/10 · 5 June 2013]

With only three features Jeff Nichols has cemented his reputation as a writer-director to be reckoned with. Mud is a skillful blend of love, coming-of-age and revenge story which takes place in Arkansas, an old- fashioned part of America where the young still call their elders 'sir' and just about everyone can tie a bowline or fix a car.

Building on his superb performances in Killer Joe and Magic Mike, Matthew McConaughey stars as the eponymous Mud, a mysterious fugitive marooned on a Mississippi island, where he dreams of reuniting with his beloved Juniper (an authentically trashy Reese Witherspoon).

On one of their boating adventures two intrepid boys, Ellis and Neckbone (Tye Sheridan and Jacob Lofland), stumble upon a speedboat which is somehow stuck up a tree. They discover that it belongs to Mud, and after a nervy initial encounter the boys form a clandestine bond with him. They make a deal: the boat in return for food.

We know that there must be sinister reasons for someone to be out here alone. But the boys, barely teenagers, come from unstable backgrounds and are lone children in their homes. Mud treats them like adults and endears himself to them. The boys are easily charmed and therefore have no reason to be suspicious.

Nichols's film, as with his Take Shelter, develops the story gradually. The plot is revealed sparsely, incrementally, which keeps us guessing. And then follows one of the most sudden and heart-pounding endings you're likely to see. Another great American director, Sam Peckinpah, was famous for the same technique.

We first suspect then learn that Mud is on the run for a cold-blooded murder. The way he justifies his action is especially chilling. Instead of condemning him, he makes us – or at least me – sympathise with him. That's the genius of McConaughey's performance – he has to be simultaneously hateful and likable.

There are vestiges of his Joe Cooper from Killer Joe. He whispers dialogue through an Arkansas accent, and is no less arresting despite a dirty constitution and chipped front teeth.

Nichols was overjoyed with the two boys. With good reason. Both deliver prodigious performances, particularly Tye Sheridan, who assumes the lead role for much of the film and clearly has a future in movies. He is moved by Mud's love for Juniper, and helps them to reunite to give meaning to his own precarious life.

Dressed in a palette of autumnal browns and yellows, the film has an authentic quality. Nichols directs with a keen eye for detail and mood. There are frequent shots of eels and crawling insects – animal metaphors, another Peckinpah trademark.

I have a small criticism. We learn that Mud's dreamy perception of his relationship with Juniper is a delusion. It is implied that he is as violent as the many men she has been with during her time with him, and that her departure from him is a recurring event. I found it difficult to believe that somebody as selfish and deceitful as Mud would be this 'committed' to anyone.

Promised Land (2012)

A Fracking Good Film

[8/10 · 5 June 2013]

Gus Van Sant's Promised Land is an eco film with a difference. Rather than simply condemn big business for any one of its practices, it makes a more constructive point by suggesting that profits do not have to trump ethics. The two can go together.

Matt Damon and Frances McDormand are two middling employees of Global, a $9 billion natural gas company. Their job is to go to towns across America, where there is shale gas, to buy people off in return for their precious resource.

The key to their job is to fit in with the locals – dress, socialise and act like them – so that they can win their confidence. Once they do this, they usually find that people sign their dubious contracts, promising them unimaginable wealth, with gullible gusto.

Their latest victim is an antiquated farming community with a particularly lucrative quantity of gas underneath their lush fields. Unfortunately for Global, despite their backward façade, the people are far from ignorant.

Hal Holbrook plays and is perfect as the wise old voice of opposition. It's amazing how many times he has played this role without it once being uninspiring. As a retired professor, he assertively points out the environmental flaws of fracking (drilling for gas) to Damon, who finds the professor's knowledge and integrity too much to handle.

What makes this challenging viewing is that Damon and McDormand are essentially good people, McDormand more obviously so. They aren't two of Global's heavies; they're small fry. Indeed, they come to this latest town without even knowing the full facts. Damon has trouble reconciling his job with his own background, as he grew up with the sort of townsfolk he's now bamboozling.

Damon is back to the kind of role he does best – cerebral, dialogue- driven and thought-provoking (Good Will Hunting, Dogma, The Talented Mr. Ripley, etc). McDormand gives an atypical performance because she is allowed to be more than simply Damon's female counterpart. Her character is developed and given a story. A nice distraction in the film is seeing her flirt with the local gun store owner (Titus Welliver).

It's a good role for Democrat Damon. He co-wrote and co-produced the film, and it was at one stage meant to be his directorial debut, so this wasn't merely 'a role' for him. The story must resonate with him. The point it makes is to give people facts and choices, not BS and threats.

The otherwise hackneyed story of greedy corporations steamrolling people to maximise profits is given a clever twist (though you'll predict it before the reveal) involving a sprightly young man called Dustin, who rallies the town into opposing Global's onslaught.

A lovely little scene nearing the end makes a wonderful moral point. A young girl is selling lemonade at 25 cents a cup. Damon buys a cup for higher the price, telling the girl to keep the change. The girl refuses the extra change. Damon asks why. The girl points to her sign and says the price is 25 cents. A fair deal is a clear deal. Big business can learn a lot from that little girl.

Olympus Has Fallen (2013)

Preposterous paranoid propaganda. But fun!

[6/10 · 28 May 2013]

Why not cut the pretence and call this film, 'We Hate North Korea'? That's really all this film is: a childish warning from the ever- paranoid US to the Hermit Kingdom to tone down its bravado. It's the kind of film George W. Bush would call a masterpiece.

Aaron Eckhart stars as US President Benjamin Asher, who turns his back on his friend and trusted Secret Service Agent, Mike Banning (Gerard Butler) because he saved him and not his wife in a fatal car accident.

Banning is relegated to a desk job, which he hates because he's much more productive when executing people in as few moves as possible. Luckily for him, his pencil pushing doesn't last long, as the North Koreans turn rhetoric into radicalism by mounting a full-scale surprise attack on Washington DC.

While a sophisticated fighter plane (which impressively blasts out a halo of rockets to defend itself against attack) causes mayhem from the sky, a well-ordered, precipitous assault takes place at ground level. Refuse trucks park in front of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue and open fire on the gates. Citizens emerge out of panic-stricken crowds and detonate bombs to allow entry onto the lawn. Then a small army shoots its way into the White House to continue the carnage until the President and key members of his staff are captured. It takes just 15 minutes for the White House (codenamed Olympus) to fall.

That sequence is the single most impressive part of Antoine Fuqua's paranoid propaganda piece. I never once questioned the plausibility of the attack because we've seen too much to question what's possible. What I did question was Mike Banning volunteering himself as essentially the only form of resistance against this unprecedented terror attack.

Honestly, an invincible comic creation would take more care. Banning strolls into the White House amid a rampaging gun battle, totally oblivious to the prospect of a pointless death. I just thought he was arrogant.

And then I fell asleep. When I awoke 30 minutes later, my wife kindly assured me that I had missed nothing of importance. Banning had moved from one wing to another, surreptitiously executing a few goons along the way, while Asher and co. were toyed with by Kang (Rick Yune), the head terrorist as he made impossible demands of Acting President, Speaker Trumbull (Morgan Freeman).

Never mind why Kang is putting himself out like this - it's preposterous. First timers Creighton Rothenberger and Katrin Benedikt wrote this hogwash. Is it a coincidence that their first names sound a bit like the word 'cretin'? Angela Bassett, Melissa Leo, Robert Forster and Dylan McDermott are reliable in their bit parts but why add to the production invoice?

For those who won't sympathise with the President's plight, his son Conner is used as the secondary victim. He cleverly conceals himself in the White House walls, and Banning has to rescue him before he saves the world from being blown to pieces. As if he didn't have enough on his plate.

I'm So Excited! (2013)

Almodovar's farce-gone-wrong

[1/10 · 15 May 2013]

The film begins with the line, 'Everything in this film is fiction and fantasy; any resemblance to real life is purely coincidental'. This is acclaimed Spanish director Pedro Almodovar's opening conceit, his attempt at irony, for what is undoubtedly his worst film to date.

Billed as 'A feel-good celebration of human sexuality', it neither perks you up, nor entices you to pop a cork. It is devoid of wit, originality and skill. I laughed not once. I came away feeling low and full of regret.

The story – if one can honestly call it that – is this. A technical fault causes an aeroplane to fly around in circles until a clear runway is found for a safe landing. Meanwhile the all-gay crew entertain the eccentric passengers – everyone from a former Dominatrix called Miss Take (hah hah), a virginal clairvoyant who claims she can smell death, a disgraced business man, a Mexican hit man and a drug mule.

The crew's awful burlesque of the famous Pointer Sister song (which the film usurps for its title) – meant to be the film's pinnacle – turns out to be its nadir. But no. Lower depths are found, thanks to the stream- of-consciousness plot, which is a stream of banality and embarrassment. One of the crew has the bright idea of spiking passengers' drinks with the drug mule's mescaline pills – but not without first nosing to check how well they were smuggled.

Ennui becomes too much for some who decide – I think influenced by the pills – to let carnality take over. I should have joined the elderly gentleman who left as soon as the clairvoyant did what she really ought not to have done to the sleeping man. But, like a man determined to confront a phobia, I stayed to endure the nightmare.

Please do not think this is one of those so-bad-you-must-see-it films. In case my diatribe has still not convinced you to stay away, tell me if you find this funny. A steward wipes something from the lip of another steward who has just visited the bisexual pilot. Disbelieving the reason for his disappearance, he licks his finger to confirm what he thinks it is. (Let me provide a clue: it isn't milk.)

Any fool knows that a joke is not always funny in another language. So, if nothing else, Almodovar proves that the worst of American humour is a whole lot worse in Spanish. Worst of all, 'I'm so Excited' manages to be something which most films, no matter how immoral or subversive, cannot be: pointless.

www.moseleyb13.com

Spring Breakers (2012)

Makes you want to be young again. Not.

[5/10 · 11 May 2013]

Somewhere in Harmony Korine's tenuous tale of teenage angst there's a point. But for some reason all I seem to remember are all those slow-motion shots on a sun-kissed beach of rowdy teenagers, drunk and highout of their minds, acting up in nothing but their birthday suits. It's 'Kids' all over again.

The film follows a fearsome feminine foursome on their mission to do whatever it takes to get enough money to enjoy spring break, that supposedly special time for American youths which sees them forget their studies to concentrate on the more important part of school life – getting absolutely wasted.

Chubby-faced cherub Selena Gomez and voluptuous Vanessa Hudgens swap the Disney channel for the Adult one, as they prowl around half-naked with two other girls on the streets of Florida's neon night time. Cash strapped, they decide, inexplicably, to hold up a diner – with water pistols! They triumph in their daring raid but are quickly jailed for forgetting to remain inconspicuous.

A gangster-rapper named Alien (James Franco) bails them out on the condition that they be his personal playthings. This is where the story gets carried away with itself. The girls' transition from independent women to teeny-bopping slaves is so sudden and incredulous that I felt cheated.

Two girls become scared of Alien's violent, excessive world and decide to go home. The other two stay and become his bodyguards as well as lovers. Alien plans to takeover the Florida coast underworld but knows this will require killing his former boss (Gucci Mane).

At this point the story dies and gives way to random horseplay, involving armed robberies, wanton murders and Alien wooing his two slave girls, in one example by singing a Britney Spears song. Other distractions include scene repetition, and Alien's incessant mouthing of 'spring break' in voice-over.

Franco, buff and braided, gives a towering performance that excuses him for the shambles that was 'Oz'. It must have been a very difficult character to get right because of how idiosyncratic it is. Every bad choice could have led to disaster. Not sure he gets the accent totally right, though, unless 'y'all' is meant to come out as 'you all' in a Southern drawl.

One pivotal scene instantly repelled me. Alien shows off his awesome arsenal in his beach house ('look at all ma she-at' he repeats) while the two girls feign interest. Suddenly they have him at gun point and force him to do what no man should have to do to his own gun. They scare him, ridicule him and take pleasure in doing so. But then there's more incredulity: they give up the act and allow themselves to be fondled by him.

If the story had courage and respect for its feminist tone, it would have been much better to run with a story of how the two girls use Alien to live a life of excess and then turn against him at his most vulnerable moment. That would be a spring break to remember.

One Mile Away (2012)

Never too late to grow

[10/10 · 13 April 2013]

The violence arising out of the infamous rivalry between Birmingham's two most prominent gangs, the Burger Bar Boys and the Johnson Crew, whose postcodes – B21 and B6 – separate them by only a mile, has blighted the city for years.

Millions of pounds have been spent trying to address the problem. Communities have been divided. Innocent lives have been lost, while others have been irrevocably shattered. One Mile Away may well be the most significant attempt to resolve this historic problem once and for all.

Winner of the Edinburgh Film Festival's Michael Powell award for best British film, Penny Woolcock's documentary is a milestone. It transcends the medium by not just highlighting a problem, but by actively trying to tackle it. As proof of her commitment, she was able to persuade former MP James Purnell and key Northern Ireland peace architect Jonathan Powell to back this project; James as a Producer, Jonathan as an adviser.

While the main aim is to broker a truce between 'Burgers' and 'Johnsons', the film also acts as a clarion call to young boys and girls to repel the lure of gang life and choose a more auspicious path.

Dylan Duffus, aka D-Boy, and Matthias Thompson, aka Shabba, are the two very brave young men who take a big but necessary risk in bringing their respective gangs together. Initial efforts to enlist support for peace are met with great suspicion. Gang members on both sides accuse the men of having ulterior motives. But they persevere in spite of their odds.

It would be wrong to judge this documentary solely in terms of its cinematic merit, though it is very well made. It is engaging, impeccably researched and deeply moving. The national resonance it is sure to have will be down to the fact that it has been made by a film maker who is really operating as a compassionate social activist.

www.moseleyb13.com

Django Unchained (2012)

For once the black guy doesn't die!

[8/10 · 20 March 2013]

QT rewrote history in Inglourious Basterds to give Jews some poetic justice, and now he empowers the black male with a Western that presents the horrors of slavery whilst still being a rootin', tootin' revenge flick that ranks with his best.

As the titular protagonist, Jamie Foxx is appropriately subdued as the freed slave, who strategically accepts Dr King Shultz's offer of a bounty-hunting partnership in order to buy his wife from sadistic plantation owner, Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio). He doesn't have a lot to do other than represent black oppression, which he does by – well, being black.

The role of Shultz required a German, so Christoph Waltz was the obvious choice. He is unquestionably brilliant, as he was in Inglourious, and though he's not playing a Nazi this time, you get the sense that he's Col. Landa's saintly twin. It's touching that he helps Django because he views him as Siegfried in the famous German myth: a man who goes through hellfire to rescue his beloved (a tender, affecting Kerry Washington), who completes the myth by having the name Broomhilda von Shaft.

DiCaprio is the film's biggest surprise. He had serious misgivings about playing Candy, his first (and possibly last) out and out villain. What will audiences think when they see him give the order for a runaway slave to be ripped apart by wild dogs? QT warned him to go all the way, otherwise audiences wouldn't forgive him; a very apt directive, which DiCaprio has firmly adhered to. His superb performance comes almost entirely from his character's pomposity. QT describes him wonderfully as the petulant boy king, the Louis XIV who is so bored with his inheritance (the fourth largest cotton plantation in Mississippi) that he gets his kicks from brutal Mandingo fights.

QT's dialogue is, as always, sensational. Lyrical, eloquent, witty, playful, ingenious – that's always been his most impressive contribution to cinema. This is the least QT-looking film of his repertoire, but only because this is his most conventional (or least unconventional). A Western, as this is, has fixed associations and images. QT is careful not to impose his knack of creatively subverting genre (too much) to detract from the serious message which he clearly wishes to make.

For all the flak QT gets for his approval of cinematic violence, I don't think this is a particularly violent film. We're talking here of the antebellum South, two years before the Civil war. It would be an injustice not to show violence, and an even bigger injustice not to show a true depiction of violence. In fact, the implied violence (Django hanging upside down, waiting to be castrated) is more unsettling than the comic book violence we mostly get.

QT wanted to avoid making this a historical film with a capital 'H'. To do so, he said, would have defeated the purpose. Samuel L. Jackson's character, Stephen, exists to prove this. He runs 'Candyland' (superb writing) as proxy lord of the manor, but resents any other free black. He treats his house slaves with a deeper contempt than Candy would, perhaps because it's a way of assuring his own longevity. He's more grotesque than Candy and would be a memorable villain if he didn't make us laugh so much with his bespoke jive.

The soundtrack is terrific and the pacing is astonishing considering the 165-minute length. Some of the influence from Sergio Leone Westerns has found its way into this film. Is this one of QT's best? No. Should you see it? You must. QT has made his political points loud and clear; he's got us all talking about America's forgotten holocaust. But has he given cinema the mythical black hero he intended to?

The Imposter (2012)

True or False?

[6/10 · 17 March 2013]

If every detail of this didn't actually happen, it would be a fictional best-seller. Nicholas Barclay, a 13-year-old blonde-haired, blue-eyed Texan boy went missing in 1994. Three years later, on a rainy night in Spain, a person made a call to the police, claiming to be that boy. That person was in fact mentally afflicted con artist Frederic Bourdin, an Algerian orphan, who had a history of impersonating missing and fictional children.

What an intriguing story, I hear you say. There's no question that it is. It might have been even more intriguing if the US media hadn't presaged this documentary, and therefore limited its potential impact, by covering the story in minute detail at the time of its unearthing, only 15 years ago.

Filmmaker Bart Layton chooses the annoying reconstruction technique, more at home in TV than in cinema; and yet he had the material for a heart-pounding thriller. Frederic Bourdin is allowed too much screen time, which he uses to gloat about how he ingeniously fooled the authorities and Nicholas's family into believing the implausible reason for his radical physical transformation, memory loss and new French accent. This over-familiarity with the villain and his modus operandi helps sanitise him and makes him appear less dangerous.

'The Imposter' was not made purely for entertainment purposes. The documentary asks whether Bourdin's actions were acceptable; after all, he was an orphan whom the authorities didn't care much for. This was his way to be 'reborn' and to be loved by a family who Bourdin still maintains never truly believed he was their son, but nonetheless accepted him because he was willing to be accepted.

The twist in the tale came when Bourdin made a full confession to dogged Private Investigator, Charlie Parker (who looks so much like a film PI). Bourdin claimed that the family murdered Nicholas, and embraced him as a way of closing the case. I admit that a cold chill ran down my spine every time Nicholas's mother is interviewed. The black t-shirt she wears with a blank expression, denying her guilt with verbose but carefully delivered sentences, does cause the question to hang.

With all their power and their reputation, the Federal Bureau of Investigation fell for a trickster. It beggars belief. FBI agent Nancy Fisher talks at some length to defend her actions. Despite reservations about his true identity, Frederic's correct identification of some family photos (coincidentally showed to him by Nicholas's sister a few days prior) was apparently enough for them to send him to the States. And yet we're reminded of how rare it is for missing people to reappear (they're usually assumed dead).

The family may have had their own reasons to be taken in by Bourdin, but the authorities - they couldn't have truly believed Bourdin was Nicholas, could they? Is it not just conceivable that this 'reunion' was allowed to happen because it allowed America to once again be the world's greatest country? Who knows? What we do know is that Nicholas Barclay is still missing, and Bourdin now lives happily in France with a wife and three kids.

Hitchcock (2012)

Murder He Wrote

[5/10 · 10 March 2013]

If you're going to do a biopic, do it out of love for the subject, not yourself. If this was meant to pay homage to the Master of Suspense, a documentary would have been better than a selfish, rather dubious portrayal. It isn't a portrayal; it's a parody.

Anthony Hopkins, usually a great actor, focuses so much on perfecting Hitchcock's distinctive voice and mannerisms that it kills the artifice. Hopkins looks like he gained weight for the role, but I never once thought I was watching Hitch. I was always conscious of Hopkins playing Hitch – playing him rather badly.

Hitch's wit is compromised because Hopkins delivers his lines very theatrically. Hitch never uttered his witty quotes quite as emphatically; he did so matter-of-factly and it was up to you to detect the wit.

The film has the same central pitfall as Spielberg's Lincoln: the plot is too thin. Here the entire film is about Hitch's battle to get his most famous and most successful film, Psycho, made (resistance from Paramount forced him to finance it himself).

Toni Collette adds nothing in her unrewarding role as Hitch's secretary. Then again, neither does Michael Wincott as Ed Gein's phantom, meant to represent Hitch's inner voice.

The biggest insult to Hitch's memory is that the film doesn't even agree that he was a genius. It implies all the way through that his tolerant and assertive wife, Alma Reville (Helen Mirren), was the true genius. It says she did the directing – both of Hitch's films and of Hitch - while Hitch succumbed to alcoholism and comfort eating. The film becomes a story of the great man in front of the even greater woman.

As much as I enjoy watching Mirren, I am noticing a decline in her standards. Maybe she knows she has nothing left to prove. I get the impression when watching her on TV interviews with much younger guests that she's in denial about her age. In a scene she shares with Scarlett Johannson, who is delightful as Janet Leigh, Mirren is supposed to act jealously as Hitch fawns over her. Her envy is so credible that you realise she might not be acting in that moment.

This is a tawdry and cynical reminiscence of Hitch's insecurity about becoming a fading star, despite dazzling audiences with a string of classics, including North by Northwest, Vertigo and Rear Window. Hitch felt enormous resentment for not ever winning a competitive Oscar and being recognised for his genius; why wasn't this story shown? Why is he being denied his due credit even in death?

Flight (I) (2012)

No one says you shouldn't drink and fly

[8/10 · 2 March 2013]

'It's not what you know; it's what you can prove'. Remember that great line? Denzel Washington said it in Training Day, his last Oscar-nominated (and Oscar-winning) performance, 11 years ago (that long!). It's a line equally relevant in this film, in which he plays Whip Whitaker, an alcoholic pilot who is hailed for a miracle crash landing, but then vilified as his addiction is exposed.

I had my reservations. I thought DW looked again to be masking his genius in another Unstoppable-type debacle, until I found out that Robert Zemeckis, not Tony Scott, was directing. DW has rarely been better. He delivers one of the most visceral portrayals of alcoholism I've ever seen, right up there with Jack Lemmon in Days of Wine and Roses and Nic Cage in Leaving Las Vegas. Booze is filmed in such a way as to seem demonic.

The CGI isn't dominant; merely assistive. The famous inverted plane scene is quickly forgotten; not because it's unmemorable, but because the plot, acting and stylisation smoothly take over.

Some story elements are contrived, for example Whip's relationship with fellow drug abuser, Nicole (Kelly Reilly), and the references to God aren't too credible. John Goodman provides wonderful comic relief as Whip's hippy drug dealer, who's such a good friend that he waltzes into hospital, to the tune of 'Sympathy for the Devil', to supply Whip with smokes, booze and stroke mags.

Don Cheadle has an easy role as Whip's criminal lawyer, as does ex-pilot, Charlie (Bruce Greenwood), who looks exactly like a pilot, both of whom do all that they can to prevent Whip from going to jail.

Zemeckis – that chaste genius behind Forrest Gump, Cast Away and the Back to the Future films – opens with a very unorthodox shot: the heart- stopping naked beauty of Nadine Velazquez, who has a minor role and later a posthumous pertinence. Ostensibly designed to reflect Whip's wantonness, it turns out to be the most titillating opening scene since Philip Seymour Hoffman gave Marisa Tomei a bit of the old canine preferential in Before the Devil Knows You're Dead. It's a cheap shot but why else did I want to watch the film again?

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (2012)

An unexpected mediocrity

[7/10 · 23 February 2013]

Returning to Middle Earth felt a bit like a school reunion. I was pleased to be back, but slightly embarrassed and curiously unconcerned about former acquaintances. Two screenings caused me to wish they had left Tolkien's book well alone.

Peter Jackson can't be blamed. Or maybe he can be. He adapts the book so faithfully (or at least the first 50 pages I've read) that you wonder why he bothered.

The truth is The Hobbit is an inferior story to the Lord of the Rings. It's that simple. Compared with the grave prospect of the race of Men's extinction in Rings, this is kids' stuff – as Gandalf says, 'an adventure'. I could not watch it as a separate, distinct film. I saw it, and I'm sure others did too, as a direct prequel to Rings.

Why didn't Jackson make The Hobbit first? That he didn't, I think, is significant. Perhaps 15 years ago he didn't feel it was worth putting on the screen. Perhaps he didn't then feel the story was epic enough. Perhaps three billion reasons forced him to reconsider.

Whilst my second viewing (from a better vantage point) impressed me slightly more, nothing is new or improved. That's the paradox. How many sequels and prequels do we rue because of their deviance from the original? My complaint isn't that Jackson doesn't give us what we want; it's that he gives us what HE wants. Is this a director at the height of his creative ability producing something just because he can? The 1:3 book-to-film ratio would indeed suggest so.

Yes, the Orcs are scarier; yes, some of the fighting is bloodier; and yes, the Pale Orc Azog is truly menacing, especially with his improvised left arm, but compare these things to what's not so good. All 13 dwarfs are bereft of any character. At least Gimley was funny. The film felt desperately dragged out, despite some stunning sequences, including an exhilarating fight with goblins and a stunning bout between rocky mountains! The often dubious CGI cannot, however, be excused.

I am not optimistic about the next two films. Sure, I'll see them. I don't mind being proved wrong. But if this is to happen, some serious tweaking needs to be done before December. At the very least they ought to make Smaug look like he isn't from Mike the Knight.

Lincoln (2012)

Fails the goosebump test

[6/10 · 20 February 2013]

Spielberg misses the mark with his long-anticipated take on one of the US's most beloved presidents. Daniel Day-Lewis gives an almighty performance based on morsels of historical information, but is let down by a surprisingly narrow narrative. The film fails, or rather does not triumph, because it is a condensed epic, based on the book 'Team of Rivals: The political genius of Abraham Lincoln' by Doris Kearns Goodwin, and dubiously adapted by Tony Kushner.

Seldom boring, but often mundane, Lincoln, like the book, is about the arduous and uncertain process by which slavery was abolished. We see the political machinations needed to cover up Lincoln's personal abhorrence of slavery with the pretence that ending it would end the civil war.

Spielberg should have kept to the title and made a straight up bio of the great man's life. Perhaps then, the 150-minute run time would be justified. The film ends up being a run-of-the-mill political drama with moments of cringeworthy triumphalism, notably in the closing scenes, where votes are cast to pass the thirteenth amendment.

Pursuing DD-L for the lead role was Spielberg's smartest directorial contribution. No one – no one – could have played Lincoln other than the master craftsman. It takes a genius to play one. The startling Noam Chomsky-esque voice, pensive gestures and body language control all conspire to evoke the supreme intelligence and acumen of this exceptional man. DD-L's physical likeness is a happy coincidence.

Sally Field is noticeable in a minor role as Lincoln's wife. I liked the scene where she undermines Tommy Lee Jones's character, a profane, wig-wearing republican, by reminding him how powerful her husband is and how impotent he is. It isn't necessary to state but I feel compelled to remark just how beautiful she is for a lady in her mid sixties who, incidentally, has been acting since the mid-60s.

In a brilliantly written and played scene, DD-L intellectually justifies ending slavery by recalling Euclid's first common notion of mechanical law: things which are equal to the same thing are equal to each other. Sadly, the theory cannot be applied to the film. DD-L's force far outweighs that of the material. (It won't stop him from making history by winning his third 'best lead actor' Oscar.)

My recurring thought was: why make another guilt-ridden film which attempts to absolve the white male for slavery? Why not do as Tarantino has done and make a film which empowers the black male instead?

Zero Dark Thirty (2012)

So that's why it took ten years

[6/10 · 19 February 2013]

Originally meant to show the unsuccessful 10-year hunt for Osama bin Laden, Katherine Bigelow's film was hastily rewritten to include his execution. The rationale for this film, so soon after the event, was to explore the effects that history's greatest manhunt had on the woman who led the chase. That's what we were told. After watching two-thirds, you realise that actually this is – and I don't necessarily have a problem with it – a celebration of bin Laden's death.

That said, there's no overt triumphalism in the dramatisation. A good thing, too. This unique story in America's history has inherent significance, which any trace of Hollywood jingoism would cheapen.

Jessica Chastain assumes the daunting lead character Maya, the CIA op who pursued 'UBL' (the US gives cool nicknames even to its enemies) when everyone else lost faith. There are dangers in being too true to your character. It's a very reserved performance. I didn't notice much acting, and I suspect it is the character, not the characterisation, which is drawing attention.

ZDT deals with the same subject matter as Bigelow's directly previous film, The Hurt Locker. But whilst THL took place in the field, where Jeremy Renner was intrepidly disabling bombs as we prayed for him not to explode, ZDT takes place mostly in CIA 'black site' locations, makeshift offices and soulless boardrooms.

Flashing through key milestones in the hunt – meetings, interrogations, suicide bombings – the one insight you come away with is why it took the most advanced military nation in history 10 years to do the job. This mission wasn't a priority. Perhaps that's why there was such a small team with inadequate financing. Maya suggested dropping a bomb on the Pakistani compound despite their uncertainty that UBL was there, but the powers that be demurred due to changing politics.

The torture scenes – the big talking point – are underwhelming. The guy committing the waterboarding, played by Jason Clarke, is a hip young Doctor, uncomfortable in meting out pain but only does so as a last resort. 'If you lie, I hurt you' he tells a suspect, in a pleading not pleasure-seeking tone. The suggestion that showing them somehow condones the practice is absurd. These scenes are necessary for drama and realism.

Despite my overall disappointment, I felt the last half hour, a step-by-step re-enactment of the 12:30 a.m. attack, was the most palpably tense and suspenseful sequence I saw last year. And the sound was absolutely deafening. I'll be buying the DVD for that part alone.

Although never boring, ZDT is often draining. It is over-hyped and overrated, securing its box office success solely on the premise. But the award ceremonies, the ultimate judge, are giving the film the lukewarm reception it actually deserves.

The Master (2012)

There will be Oscars

[8/10 · 20 January 2013]

The exclusion of Paul Thomas Anderson's film from the best director and best picture short-lists at this year's Oscars is nothing short of scandalous, though perhaps predictable, given that it is about the growth and lure of cult as well as an exploration of madness. Way too tough a subject for an Academy which fawns over such mediocrities as 'The King's Speech'.

That said, Joaquin Phoenix and Philip Seymour Hoffman are deservedly nominated in the best actor and supporting actor categories. They deliver career-best performances. Hoffman as Lancaster Dodd, the autocratic 'master' of a nascent cult called 'The Cause', and Phoenix as Freddie Quell, a mentally afflicted sailor who becomes Dodd's guinea pig.

If the characterisation of cult is a fair one, then it is quite disturbing. The main aim of 'The Cause' is to remove man's animal nature and thereby perfect humanity. Dodd gives Quell the love he's never had in return for his life, which includes subjecting him to extreme experiments which do nothing, except increase his insanity.

Phoenix appears to have sunk into his own skeleton. Sinewy to the point of masochism, he stomps around ape-like, snarling and talking out of one side of his mouth. Repulsed though I was, I couldn't bear to look away. He has clearly invested every reserve of emotion to play this disturbed, venal character. It would be a shame for him not to win the Oscar based on sheer commitment alone.

Amy Adams, also nominated, plays Dodd's brainwashed wife and aide. She unhesitatingly helps implement Dodd's master plan, even subjugating herself to being naked with all other females at a party for members of The Cause. It is an ominous reverse of the docile nun she played in 'Doubt'.

The film's title should also refer to Anderson. You get a sense of an artist in complete control of his material. You needn't be attuned to the technical wizardry at play, indeed this may be a distraction; however, the effect proves the skill. You are seduced into this nightmarish world, believing no other reality.

'The Master' arrives five years since Anderson's magnificent 'There will be Blood'. It was worth the wait. It pulverised me. It thrilled, scared and saddened me. I doubt I will forget it anytime soon.

Sightseers (2012)

A Black Country Black Comedy

[6/10 · 22 December 2012]

Against her lonely mum's wishes Tina, a nice but dim dog psychologist, joins her fellow Black Country lover Chris on an 'erotic odyssey' through Yorkshire. A romantic idea until we see that this amounts to bad weather, deserted heritage sites and caravan rumpy-pumpy. Oh, and wanton serial killing.

No one can doubt that such a bizarre set up is original, but writer-director Ben Wheatley's third feature chooses these details to form his central gag: Chris and Tina are about the most unlikely Bonnie and Clyde rip-offs imaginable. So, when innocents start to drop off, we're meant to laugh, not only at the brutality of the executions, but also at the constant reminder of who's committing them.

There are definitely some laughs in the black and dry comedy, and there's one brilliant sight gag featuring potpourri, but the central gag wears thin as the death toll mounts. Chris's bloodlust is down to his redundancy (I found this funny), yet Tina kills because she's no good as his muse and thinks it's what he wants from her. But of course this simply heightens Chris's insecurity. Chris calls Tina 'a negative person; a liability'.

The two ne'er-do-wells are played with brutal honesty by Leicestershire lad Steve Oram and Coventry's Alice Lowe (of 'Garth Marenghi' fame), but 'Sightseers' didn't feel like a complete experience. Something lacked. I suspect it was the plot itself. The jokes are well written, but suffer when spoken (nothing to do with the accent). The ending tries to be natural but seemed illogical, and far from being funny, I actually found it quite sad.

As much as I am enthused that this home-grown film exists and has received widespread acclaim, I didn't laugh anywhere near as much as I should have. 'Sightseers' is somewhat funny, not LOL - and whilst a far cry from unmissable, is just about worth watching.

Silver Linings Playbook (2012)

Hilarious, heartbreaking and heart-warming

[8/10 · 5 December 2012]

Bradley Cooper characteristically charms in David O. Russell's hilarious, heartbreaking and heart-warming story about an asylum-dodging manic depressive who eventually finds a silver lining.

Pat (Cooper) radically alters his lifestyle, even promises to manage his anger without medication, in the quixotic hope of reuniting with his cheating wife. But then he meets Tiffany (Jennifer Lawrence), a young widow and self-confessed loose woman who challenges Pat's assumptions about her, leading to an unbreakable friendship. Lawrence's headstrong performance I hope ensures her career will not be mired by the monstrosity that is the 'Hunger Games' series.

Robert De Niro and Jacki Weaver are noteworthy as Pat's parents, especially De Niro who gives a rare performance requiring emotional depth and comedic flair. With a film this impressive, it isn't necessary to mention that Danny Elfman composed the score (but he did).

However derivative O. Russell's script (based on a novel by Matthew Quick) becomes, I cannot condemn any of it. It is transcended by acting that is so honest, you find yourself focusing not on the clichés but on cheering for Pat. The poignancy in his quest to win back his wife frankly had me almost blubbering.

If ever there was a film to illustrate Joni Mitchell's famous line about not knowing what you have until it's gone, this was it.

Argo (2012)

An incredible true story

[8/10 · 11 November 2012]

'Argo' was the title of a fake sci-fi film used by the CIA as a subterfuge to rescue six US embassy workers during the 1979 Iran hostage crisis. Ben Affleck's accomplished third feature as director (in which he also stars) avoids being a dull reconstruction by being rather incredibly among the funniest films I've seen all year.

Affleck plays the lead role of Tony Mendez, the CIA op who led the audacious rescue and whose book prompted the film. He portrays Mendez as I imagine he really was – as a quiet American. Less the flag-waving brand of patriotism than an innate and unquestioning loyalty to the stars and stripes.

Although the taut hostage narrative is the epicentre, it is mercifully overshadowed by the comedy arising from the film production difficulties. John Goodman stars as John Chambers, the legendary Hollywood make-up artist and Mendez's adviser. But it is Alan Arkin's wickedly funny and cantankerous Hollywood producer (the only one depraved enough to go along with the caper) who steals the show. It's his grandpa character from 'Little Miss Sunshine', only about a million times funnier.

The film was criticised for its portrayal of Iranians, but I didn't think it was overly harsh. Militants can hardly be sanitised, can they? Affleck has the courage to admit to his country's (and the UK's) culpability in draining Iran of its oil in the chilling opening sequence, and he gives one of his characters the line, 'We did it to them first'.

'Argo' is a deliriously energetic and compelling 'declassified true story', even if it shows a patent disregard for historical facts. I can hear Arkin say 'Argo **** yourself!' if we don't like it.

Sinister (I) (2012)

Don't play the films!

[8/10 · 20 October 2012]

Scott Derrickson. Get used to the name. As we speak he's got five horror projects on the go, including a 'Poltergeist' remake. His 'Sinister' deftly sidesteps most clichés of the genre and manages to be genuinely frightening. Filmed using only the barest light, Derrickson ratchets up tension and knows exactly when to press the 'scare' button. He doesn't waste time with false alarms. If he means to scare, he does so at the first attempt. And boy does he succeed.

Ethan Hawke plays Ellison Oswalt, a struggling true-crime writer desperate to equal the success of his magnum opus, 'Kentucky Blood'. He persuades his English wife (RADA-trained Juliet Rylance) and two kids to move into a house with a macabre history which, of all people, the local Sheriff urges them to leave.

Oswalt discovers a box of old 8mm films in the attic. Curiosity gets the better of him and he plays them. Each starts innocently enough, showing a family playing or swimming, but end with them being horrifically murdered by a faceless killer. Although what he sees is enough to turn him into an alcoholic and destroy his family, he sits through all the films, believing that the (unsolved) murders provide the material to write 'the best book anyone has ever read' (I noticed he doesn't say 'ever written').

Technology, that bane of every modern filmmaker is manipulated superbly here. Oswalt resourcefully learns how to edit a film reel after one catches fire, and, with a hacker's dexterity, uses his laptop to piece together information about the murders. While editing images from the scenes, he notices a chilling figure, resembling a much scarier version of 'The Crow'. My heart stopped when the figure turns its head towards us.

The inclusion of Ethan Hawke, a solid but underused actor, is a reason why this film eclipses most horrors of the past decade. He conveys fear so well, and acts brilliantly when confronting supernaturalism. Vincent D'Onofrio has an excellent cameo as the occult expert, who provides Oswalt with information on paganism via Skype.

Not since 2004's 'Saw' have I been this impressed with a horror film. It's perhaps the most difficult genre to get right because, as Scott Derrickson knows only too well, we just aren't scared of anything anymore. Apart from 'Sinister', that is.

Killer Joe (2011)

Kentucky (Fried)kin

[8/10 · 18 October 2012]

'Killer Joe' is an excessively dark and disturbing imagining of Pulitzer-prize winning Tracy Letts' 1993 play and screenplay. This great film marks a (long overdue) return to form for William Friedkin.

Trailer-park inhabitant Chris Smith (a visceral Emile Hirsch) desperately needs cash to pay his gambling debts, or else the sharks will settle for his blood. Chris hatches a plan with his degenerate dad Ansel (Thomas Hayden Church) and younger sister Dottie (an unforgettable Juno Temple) to kill his mom, whom they have hated ever since she left them, to claim the $50K insurance money.

As they lack the courage to pull off the stunt themselves, they commission 'Killer Joe' Cooper to carry out this sordid scheme. Detracting from his typically saccharine roles, Matthew McConaughey gives a career-defining performance as the eponymous Dallas police detective who kills people for money.

Assisted by Friedkin's fetishistic filming, Joe oozes magnetism. He dresses all in black and is a remnant of cowboy-era America. He'd be a perfect villain in a Sergio Leone film – provided it was rated 18. Debonair and chivalrous on the surface, Joe is actually a sadistic creep who can dish out the most precipitous violence (you won't believe the stomach-churning scene featuring a piece of fried chicken!).

Things turn ugly when Joe learns of a set up. He appropriates Dottie as his 'retainer', and moves in with the family to ensure he gets his $25K fee. As dim-witted as the Smiths' are, they're smart enough to know they're dead if they don't cough up some dough. These scenes resemble ones from Friedkin's 1968 film, 'The Birthday Party'. They're meant to contain dark humour, which they do, but aren't all that funny. They serve instead to make the film more creepy.

What we get is just what the ad posters proclaim: A totally twisted, deep-fried Texas redneck trailer park murder story. And I loved every minute of it.

Taken 2 (2012)

When did he have time to buy a leather jacket?

[5/10 · 17 October 2012]

Liam Neeson's cult hero, ex-CIA Agent Bryan Mills returns with his leather jacket to terminate another band of scumbags, who are seeking revenge for the zillions he dispensed with Steven Segal-style in 2008's 'Taken'.

This time the ethnic cleansing occurs in Istanbul, where Mills invites his daughter, Kim (Maggie Grace) and his ex, Lenore (Famke Jannsen) to escape the stress of their lavish lifestyle. When mum and dad are abducted, Kim (who has admirably recovered from the trauma of being sex-trafficked in the first film) takes surreptitious instructions from dad about how to find them so that he can 'do what he does best'.

Luc Besson and Robert Mark Kamen stay on as screenwriters, but Olivier Megaton, whose claim to shame was that he helmed 'Transporter 3', replaces Pierre Morel as director. First mistake. The second mistake these three men make is to hint that Neeson is too old. True, he turned 60 this year, but with moves like his you wouldn't accept anyone else as back up.

The third mistake is the substitution of explosions for emotions. My heart sank when they reduced the certificate from '15' to the dreaded '12A'; a clear signal that the violence would be softened and the death tally lowered. You can bet your life there'll be more sequels, so why not leave this mushy plot for number five?

Spurred on by songs from the 'Drive' soundtrack, Kim intrepidly goes in search of her parents, but not without blowing up half of Turkey and its denizens in the process. I was so proud of her. She hadn't yet passed her driving test, or got to make out properly with her boyfriend and look what her security-conscious father was making her do. This is the fourth and most inexcusable mistake.

www.moseleyb13.com

Looper (2012)

A time-travelling loop-the-loop

[6/10 · 9 October 2012]

Writer-director Rian Johnson's sci-fi action film is complex and original but not necessarily clever, and only marginally entertaining. Upholding the script's integrity is discarded in favour of maintaining its crowd-pleaser status.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt plays Joe, a mob killer known as a 'Looper', who takes out the trash from the future by shooting them in the present (2044). Time-travel rules have to be broken when his latest target – his future self – escapes at the point of execution. Bruce Willis plays the older Joe. He evades his younger self every time Execution day arrives, as he intends to find The Rainmaker, a mythical Looper who kills his wife in the future.

Instead of explaining his impressive concepts, Johnson resorts to the easy cliché of making his characters ignorant of their own world. The closest we come to time-travel exposition is a line by Looper manager Jeff Daniels, 'It fries your brain like an egg', or better still Willis's line, 'I don't wanna talk all that time travel crap; we'll be here all day making diagrams with straws'. Those are funny lines, but when you stop chuckling you know you've been had.

Gordon-Levitt is easily upstaged by the doyen of action cinema. With intense make-up he looks nothing like a younger Willis, and his characterisation is even less convincing. He doesn't have the presence of prolific actor, and yet he is one. Paul Dano has a small role as a fellow Looper, which he quivers through as is his custom. Emily Blunt convinces as the independent farm girl whose precocious toddler, Cid is key to the plot.

I figured out the twist long before the reveal. It is so obvious, that I thought it was dramatic irony, where the audience is intentionally privy to something the characters aren't. I can't prove this of course, but be in no hurry to find out for yourself.

The Intouchables (2011)

Next Year's 'Best Foreign Film' Oscar Winner

[8/10 · 4 October 2012]

After missing last year's 'The Help' on principle (the principle being: black people have moved on; why can't Hollywood?), I couldn't help but approach 'Untouchable' with similar trepidation. My preconception was a misconception: It is one of the best films I've seen all year, and is by far the best foreign one. It's about platonic love between polar opposites. It's about hope and happiness.

Set in Paris, Olivier Nakache and Eric Toledano's heart-warming film stars François Cluzet (a dead ringer for Dustin Hoffman) as Philippe, a wealthy quadriplegic widower and Omar Sy as Driss, a brutish ex-offender from a Parisian project.

Looking for someone who will not pity him, Philippe hires Driss as his carer. Driss almost leaves until he sees his lavish quarters – and Magalie, Philippe's sexy auburn-haired secretary, who Driss makes it his mission to bed. Driss does pity Philippe, but never makes the mistake of showing it. Instead, the two make jokes at each other's expense and a bond very quickly (and believably) develops. They introduce each other to their worlds. One is replete with operas, art and literature; the other with girls, spliffs and street knowledge. By the end of the film they are inseparable.

This could easily have been a tale of race, like 'The Help' was, but that is inconsequential in this film. It is purely coincidental that Philippe is white and Driss is black. When Philippe's personnel look disapprovingly at Driss, they do so because of his rough manner, not his colour. One of the film's strengths is that it doesn't mention this detail, which is after all as irrelevant as it being set in France. One thing that ought to be mentioned is that Omar Sy is not just the help in this film; he's the star, commanding the screen with confidence, charm and credibility.

What cautions me from classing this as a perfect film is the few but prominent clichés. Philippe has a daughter who's so much the stereotypical spoiled little girl, and Driss's own family hates him. Also, the setups are overly familiar. Driss scoffs at Philippe's love for classical music and abstract art, but then learns to love Vivaldi and Bach, and then, astonishingly, creates a painting of his own which sells for 11,000 euros! This film is based on real people (Philippe Pozzo di Borgo and his carer Abdel Sellou), so these things may be accurate, but this isn't a documentary of their actual lives.

However, I can easily forgive these clichés because they are outnumbered by the many wonderful laugh-out-loud moments. Returning from a hiatus, Driss insists on shaving an unkempt Philippe. He snips away leaving Philippe looking more absurd upon each stroke, leaving him with a hitlerian moustache!

Already 'Untouchable' has achieved a phenomenal level of success. It is making and breaking records across the globe, and is beating such films as 'The Artist' to awards. It has rightly been entered as France's entry for next year's Oscars. It is sure to win.

www.moseleyb13.com