Review #1,467: 'SS Experiment Camp' (1976)

Much of the outrage drummed up by so-called 'moral crusaders' concerned with how violent and tasteless movies were affecting our impressionable youth during the 1980s was based primarily on how these types of film advertised themselves. The rise of VHS led to home media companies taking full advantage of highlighting how grisly and amoral the film supposedly was, and this led to the now-iconic covers of The Driller Killer, which depicted a man receiving a nasty drill to the head, and Cannibal Holocaust, which splashed the image of one of the titular flesh-eaters chowing down on some human intestines on its casing. These films were placed on the infamous 'Video Nasty' list in the UK, and the two aforementioned titles are indeed pretty nasty. Others that found themselves on the banned list - that did nothing but provide free promotion - were actually hiding a cheaply-made and laughably executed production underneath. Sergio Carrone's SS Experiment Camp, one of the lesser-seen titles on the list, is one such example.

The eponymous camp of the title is a base constructed by the Nazis during World War II to conduct shocking experiments involving attractive Jewish women and some of the Fatherland's most dashing studs. Before being entered into the programme, the women must swear their allegiance to the Fuhrer, otherwise they face torture and eventually a trip into the ovens. Those wise enough to agree to their captors' demands are led to a dorm complete with bunk beds, so the girls can chat like teenagers at a sleepover, and are watched over by a lesbian (what else?) commander. When they are eventually called into action, they must have sex with handsome German men - sometimes even underwater! - while a sympathetic Jewish doctor carries out more sinister experiments with ovary transplants. German officer Helmut (Mircha Carven) ends up falling in love with one of the inmates, and in exchange for her safety, he rather stupidly agrees to take part in a highly secretive experiment with the Colonel von Kleiben (Giorgio Cerioni). Helmut doesn't know it, but von Kleiben has recently lost his balls during the war, and is finding life without intercourse a little hard to take.

Yes, this is a movie set during one of the greatest tragedies in human history about a guy who loses his gonads and can't have sex with the woman he loves. With a video cover showing a dying woman hung upside down while a smirking Nazi officer looks grimly on, Mary Whitehouse and her cronies likely called for the film to be banned for the gruesome horrors that surely lurked beneath that poster. If they had actually taken the time to watch it, they would probably laugh as dead bodies jerk unconvincingly while dodgy-looking flames bounce in front of them, or be puzzled at why a unit of German soldiers look and act like Italian footballers cracking wise in a changing room. Tasteless? Certainly. Most of the increasingly silly torture scenes focus on the victim's jiggling breasts. Horrifying? Well, yes, but not in the way the film intended. For a film that can boast a scene in which its lead character bursts into a room and asks "what have you been doing with my balls?", SS Experiment Camp is a tedious and repetitive experience. It has some unintentional humour, but then there's 90 additional minutes of atrocious acting and awkward dialogue to wade through. The nazisploitation genre is pure trash but it can occasionally offer the odd guilty pleasure, but this is no Ilsa.


Directed by: Sergio Garrone
Starring: Mircha Carven, Paola Corazzi, Giorgio Cerioni, Giovanna Mainardi, Serafino Profumo
Country: Italy

Rating: *

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,440: 'Eye of the Needle' (1981)

Ken Follett's novel Eye of the Needle was a huge hit for the Welsh author when it was first published in 1978, mixing spy thrills and an unlikely romance as the Allies were preparing for D-Day during World War II. The film adaptation, which followed just three years later, simplifies Follet's text to fit a more comfortable three-act structure, and to deliver a more exciting thriller to audiences who were, at the time, being hit with spy movies left, right and centre. Eye of the Needle isn't your typical adventure yarn however, placing a dead-eyed Nazi spy at the centre of the story and throwing him into the arms of a lonely wife. The result is a thrilling, if often contrived film that is happy to toss logic out of the window as long as it offers the chance for another tense stand-off. The plot eventually lays the outcome of the entire war at the feet of the two leads alone on a remote Scottish island, and somehow gets away with it.

It's London, 1940, and an easy-going Brit named Henry Faber (Donald Sutherland) chats with a friend as young men around them head off to war. Nobody yet knows it, but this charming Englishman poses a greater threat to the Allies' war effort than any enemy overseas, as he is actually Heinrich Faber, a Nazi spy known as 'the Needle' who is transmitting information back to his superiors in the Fatherland. When his nice old landlady accidentally catches him speaking German into a radio, Faber brutally stabs her in the belly with a stiletto, the weapon of choice that earned him his nickname. Fast forward four years later, and British Intelligence are finally on to him, and must track him down before he reveals their country's biggest secret to the enemy. Faber has obtained photographs of an airfield full of fake plywood planes, designed to convince Hitler and his spies that the invasion will arrive in Calais, and not the beaches of Normandy, giving the Nazis a chance to end the war swiftly and brutally. However, on his journey back home, Faber's boat is smashed onto the rocks by high wind, washing him up on the nearby Storm Island, which has a population of 4.

The early scenes are juxtaposed with the happy wedding of Lucy (Kate Nelligan) and David (Christopher Cazenove), a young couple whose special day comes to an abrupt end when they crash their car on the way to their honeymoon. The accident results in David having his legs amputated, causing him to grow bitter and angry, choosing to spend most nights getting drunk with the alcoholic lighthouse keeper as his wife looks after their son and longs for affection. It's here that the two stories meet, with Faber washing up on the island and playing the role of mysterious stranger. There's an erotic scene between Faber and Lucy that is now dated and rather awkward, but mostly their dangerous romance is developed with care. They are stripped down as two lost souls both physically and mentally trapped, and the two leads are terrific. Faber is still dedicated to the cause however, and, as he coldly dispatches anyone that stands in his way, director Richard Marquand never lets us forget his evil nature. Yet the way the plot is forced into place to allow these strangers to cross paths is clunky to say the least. It seems strange that Faber couldn't simply radio the information back to Germany before he sets out to deliver the physical evidence, and seemingly clever characters do incredibly stupid things to allow themselves to be stuck with the needle. It's worth seeing for the fantastic central performances and the down-and-dirty atmosphere, but Eye of the Needle doesn't do quite enough to stand out in the plethora of spy movies from the same era.


Directed by: Richard Marquand
Starring: Donald Sutherland, Kate Nelligan, Ian Bannen, Christopher Cazenove
Country: UK

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,422: 'Outlaw King' (2018)

For all its thrilling battle scenes and quotable dialogue, Mel Gibson's Braveheart was hardly a textbook of historical accuracy, particularly with the way it seemed to promote William Wallace as Scotland's one and only saviour, and relegated the future king, Robert the Bruce, to coward and turncloak. A movie to set the record straight always seemed inevitable and necessary, but it took a long time coming. 23 years after Braveheart took home 5 Academy Awards, David Mackenzie's biopic of Bruce, Outlaw King, has finally arrived. It almost works as a quasi-sequel to Gibson's crowd-pleaser, beginning with the King of England gathering various Scottish nobles to sign a peace treaty that will signal an end to the fighting and climaxing with a bloody battle at Loudoun Hill. Times have changed since 1995, and Mackenzie seems intent on infusing the story with a gritty realism and greater attention to historical fact, meaning that there'll be no defiant final cry of "Freedom!" here.

Premiering at the Toronto International Film Festival and released on Netflix two months later, this sullen tale of bearded men going at each other with huge swords sets out to impress from the very get go. The likes of Robert the Bruce (Chris Pine), his father (James Cosmo), and their main rival for the Scottish crown John Comyn III (Callan Mulvey), have been summoned to the tent of Edward I (Stephen Dillane) to metaphorically lay down their swords and accept the invading English as their rulers. The camera glides across the room as they exchange pleasantries between gritted teeth, before moving outside for an impromptu sword fight between Robert and the Prince of Wales (Billy Howle). Filmed in one continuous take, the scene ends with the King demonstrating his power with his newest weapon, a ginormous catapult, which he fires into the besieged Stirling Castle. Both Edward and Mackenzie are showing off here, but its a thrilling moment nonetheless, and if anything is a sure sign of Netflix's intent to flex their own industry muscles. It propels the film into a breathless first half, as Robert defies the English by crowning himself King after Wallace is executed, and takes his threadbare army off to war.

The story moves at a relentless pace, with Robert suffering catastrophic defeats at the hands of both the English and rebellious Scottish clans, and his following grows increasingly smaller. Following these early skirmishes, Outlaw King struggles to fully engage, and this is mainly down to the portrayal of Robert himself. Pine is a highly charismatic actor with some serious chops (just look at Mackenzie's previous film, Hell or High Water), but the film never really seems sure of how to portray him. He leads his men from one battering to the next, and we never really understand why his troops stick with him. He marries Elizabeth de Burgh (Florence Pugh) for political reasons but they end up falling in love, with the outspoken Queen of Scots clearly seeing something in her husband that we cannot. The same can be said for one of Robert's most fearsome warriors, James Douglas (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), who amps the testosterone levels significantly in a foaming-at-the-mouth performance that borders on cartoonish. The highly engaging first hour is still enough reason to give Mackenzie two hours of your time, and fans will at least be treated to a Chris Pine full frontal. Just don't expect Outlaw King to subvert the historical drama in any way and try to enjoy it for what it is: a bruising adventure that school kids can enjoy when it's movie day in history class.


Directed by: David Mackenzie
Starring: Chris Pine, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Florence Pugh, Stephen Dillane, Billy Howle, James Cosmo
Country: UK/USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,421: 'Mulan' (1998)

Based on the Chinese folktale of a woman who disguised herself as a man in order to battle against the Hun and help protect her homeland, Disney's Mulan came at a strange time for the juggernaut studio. While still riding the wave of its own 90's renaissance in the wake of smash-hits Beauty and the Beast and The Lion King, it was also watching another studio, Pixar, emerge as its greatest competition, and Pixar's use of computer animation was in danger of rendering Disney's traditional hand-drawn pictures obsolete. Of course, Disney would go on to gobble up its rival and take the studio under its sizeable wing, but back in 1998, Mulan, although a box-office hit, didn't leave the same mark as Pixar's effort that year, A Bug's Life. As a result, Mulan was remembered as one of Disney's lesser 90's efforts, but time has aged the film incredibly well. It doesn't feel like one of the last of a dying breed to be pushed out before computer animation took over completely, but a joyous reminder of how timeless and splendid hand-drawn animation can be.

The Huns, led by the fearsome Shan Yu (Miguel Ferrer) have breached the Great Wall and invaded China, causing the Emperor to hand out conscription notices that demand one man from every household. The elderly Fa Zhou (Soon-Tek Oh) has fought his country's wars before, but he nevertheless tosses aside his cane and dusts off his old sword and amour. His daughter, Fa Mulan (Ming-Na Wen), doesn't want to see her withered father march off to his death and so steals the armour and heads off to the join the army in his place. Her country doesn't allow for women to fight, so Mulan ties up her hair, deepens her voice, and puts on her most manly stance for her new commander, the handsome and formidable Li Shang (BD Wong). The spirits of her ancestors summon a tiny dragon named Mushu (Eddie Murphy) who they hope will convince her to return, but the gong-ringer decides instead to help Mulan battle against the Huns. With Li Shang's training and guidance, Mulan and her unit are transformed into warriors, but are they ready to face off against the mighty Shan Yu?

Mulan distinguishes itself from the rest of the Disney back catalogue with its wartime setting and location in a foreign, ancient land. While it may still carry familiar themes of finding your inner strength and being true to yourself, there's no doubting that a darker and more serious tone runs through the story's centre. The violence is kept to a minimum so it's all still family-friendly, but the stakes feel higher, and there's a real sense of dread when Mulan and Li Shang first lay their eyes on the charging Hun. This weightier atmosphere is also helped by Mulan herself, who is less a traditional princess longing to meet her true love than a fully-formed, believable character who is learning to adapt at all costs in a world that will do everything it can to try and stop her. Disney still couldn't resist a tacked-on ending that seems to go against everything that was said and suggested before, which is a shame, as Mulan is evidence that Disney was tackling issues of diversity and gender equality long before it became a social media revolution. This doesn't have the catchy tunes of Beauty and the Beast or the adorable characters of The Lion King, but Mulan has its fair share of moments, packed with elegant animation and compelling action.


Directed by: Tony Bancroft, Barry Cook
Voices: Ming-Na Wen, Eddie Murphy, BD Wong, Miguel Ferrer, Harvey Fierstein, Gedde Watanabe
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,418: 'Ivan's Childhood' (1962)

Many films have depicted the horrors of war and the loss of innocence that comes with it, but it's no coincidence that the very best tend to be viewed through the eyes of children. The big Hollywood productions tend to shy away from this angle for the simple fact that recent wars haven't been fought on their turf, leaving it to Europe and Asia to explore how war not only devastates the childhoods of youngsters, but destroys the development of their personality. Russian master Andrei Tarkovsky, making his feature debut, was keen to explore this idea in Ivan's Childhood, and the result was a work of art that can sit alongside the likes of Come and See and Grave of the Fireflies as one of the finest films to take this approach. We open in a dream, although we don't know it yet. Young Ivan  Bondarev (Nikolay Burlyaev) is enjoying happier times with his mother as birdsong plays in the background. There's a huge noise, and the expression of Ivan's mother's face suddenly changes.

We wake, with Ivan, from the dream and into the stark reality of life on the front during World War II. Ivan stumbles out of the windmill attic he's slept in and make his way across a battle-worn Soviet landscape, eventually reaching a swamp. Dodging enemy fire, the child makes it all the way across in near darkness, making contact with a small Russian platoon commanded by the young Lieutenant Galtsev (Evgeniy Zharikov). The brash and short-tempered Ivan insists that Galtsev contact headquarters to announce his arrival, while the inexperienced leader eyes the battered young soldier before him with curiosity. Eventually making the call, Galtsev is told by Lieutenant-Colonel Gryaznov (Nikolay Grinko) to give the boy a pen and paper so he can make his report on the positions of German soldiers, as well as giving Ivan a much-needed bath and hot meal. Having grown fond of Ivan, Gryaznov and his fellow soldiers aim to move him to military school, where he'll be safe from the fighting. But Ivan, after watching his family murdered before him, burns with the desire for revenge, revealing that if he is sent away he will only escape and join the local partisans.

Like all of Tarkovsky's work, there isn't really a definitive plot driving Ivan's Childhood. Instead, Tarkovsky uses the characters and setting as a means to explore deeper themes, like war, fear, rage, loss and, of course, childhood. The film flicks between dreams and reality, often leaving the viewer unaware of which state they're in, as Ivan is spurred forward by the traumatic events he has endured. He is cynical and battle-hardened like the men around him, but he is still a boy, leaping into the arms of an officer and friend like a son greeting his returning father. As Ivan, Burlyaev is tasked with playing a character torn in half, often having to switch between the two sides of his personality in the very same scene. He pulls it off miraculously, cementing his place as one of the most powerful child performances of all time. Burlyaev is able to retain a youthful demeanour while possessing the look of someone much older and wiser, the most difficult feat faced by any young performer looking to play a child forced to grow up too fast by the adult world around him. At the end, Tarkovsky leaves us haunted by images of endless death and pointless savagery, making Ivan's Childhood one of the most devastating anti-war pictures ever made.


Directed by: Andrei Tarkovsky
Starring: Nikolay Burlyaev, Valentin Zubkov, Evgeniy Zharikov, Stepan Krylov, Nikolay Grinko
Country: Soviet Union

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,345: 'The Inglorious Bastards' (1978)

Not to be confused with Quentin Tarantino's deliberately misspelt men-on-a-mission movie Inglourious Basterds from 2009, Italian director Enzo G. Castellari's correctly spelt The Inglorious Bastards from 1978 is pure exploitation, featuring a number of familiar faces from the genre and plenty of humour, explosions and dick-measuring to appease fans. The World War II setting is almost an afterthought, merely an excuse to round up a collection of colourful characters in one setting and provide an endless roster of faceless bad guys to be blown away without the need of explanation. The Inglorious Bastards is one of the most fun B-movies around, boasting some impressively staged action in spite of its obvious budget constraints.

Taking its cue from The Dirty Dozen, our heroes are a rag-tag bunch of rebel soldiers whose crimes include everything from theft and desertion to murder and mutiny. They are transported to a camp near the Ardennes in France where they are to be executed, but their vehicle is soon attacked by German bombers and only a handful escape with their lives. These include Canfield (Fred Williamson), Tony (Peter Hooten), Nick (Michael Pergolani), Berle (Jackie Basehart), and the proud Lt. Yeager (Bo Svenson), who attempt to put aside their differences to make it through hostile territory to the safety of Switzerland. They may be roughnecks but they are still ready and willing to fight, proving themselves efficient at it when they tear through various bands of Nazis along the way. After they accidentally gun down a squad of Americans dressed as German troops, the bastards have no choice but to complete the fallen soldiers' mission to steal a weapon from an armoured train.

Barely ten minutes go by without a slice of action, making Castellari's movie one of the most fast-paced examples of the genre. Of course, its bloodless and mostly without any real consequence, with many of the actors firing their guns into the ground, but it's fun and exciting nonetheless. If you're looking for historical accuracy or realistic warfare then this isn't the movie for you, but if you appreciate over-the-top exploitation with a sense of humour and an overbearing sense of machismo, then there is plenty to enjoy here. Williamson and Svenson get most of the screen time, with Williamson clearly enjoying being the only black face in a relatively all-white war, but supporting players Hooten and Pergolani are most impressive as two of the most ethically-questionable members of this strained band of brothers. It isn't difficult to see why Tarantino swiped the name for his own project (even though the two films share little in common), as The Inglorious Bastards is just as entertaining as its title would suggest.


Directed by: Enzo G. Castellari
Starring: Bo Svenson, Peter Hooten, Fred Williamson, Michael Pergolani, Jackie Basehart
Country: Italy

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,342: 'Hearts and Minds' (1974)

Although Western involvement in the Vietnam War ultimately drew to a close over 40 years ago, the spectre of the bloody, brutal and still divisive conflict still looms over the U.S. and the country's current involvement in foreign affairs. The title of Peter Davis' highly affecting documentary is taken from a quote by then-President Lyndon B. Johnson: "the ultimate victory will depend on the hearts and minds of the people who actually live out there." The film opens with archive footage of this speech, and proceeds to show a country eventually devastated by napalm, Agent Orange and an assortment of other weapons designed to inflict maximum damage. The people became an afterthought in the quest to distinguish the 'Commie threat'. Hearts and Minds is blatant propaganda, but its raw power is undeniable.

The film had a difficult road to winning the Best Documentary prize at the 1974 Academy Awards, namely due to Columbia Pictures withdrawing their desire to distribute the feature after one of the interviewees, former National Security Advisor Walt Rostow, claimed that his participation had been misrepresented and his words taken out of context. The producers eventually purchased back the rights to the film, and ran it for just one week in theatres (the minimum time required to be eligible for awards season). It's legacy understandably invites mixed responses, with many criticising the one-sidedness of the film's views, the clever film-making techniques, and the lack of context given to those who may defend U.S. involvement in Vietnam, or be actively in favour of it. This is particularly noticeable when documenting former POW George Coker's return to his home country, where his vocal disdain for the Vietnamese race is documented without taking into account the terrible treatment he no doubt suffered at their hands.

Davis clearly has an agenda, and uses propaganda tools to make his point. The most powerful of which is the rather sickening view of General William Westmoreland that life on the Orient is cheap, while images of a grieving wife attempting to throw herself onto her dead husband's coffin are juxtaposed with the interview. Soldiers who went into the war with a hatred for the enemy they didn't know soon lost their hunger and started to question their involvement, especially after seeing many of their comrades lose their lives and the grisly effects their chemical weapons were inflicting on innocent children. Hearts and Minds succeeds in capturing the turning point in the war for the people at home in the U.S., when attitudes started to shift as it became clear their government didn't have a clue how to win it and the pro-peace movement erupted across the country. The archive images pack incredible power, and the interviews with veterans are undeniably moving, especially when the camera reveals the lasting effects the conflict has had on them. This is documentary film-making at its most complex and admittedly biased, but regardless of your opinion going into the picture, it will certainly leave you questioning events and wondering if any lessons have been learnt.


Directed by: Peter Davis
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,309: 'Darkest Hour' (2017)

2017 saw cinema give us the complete Dunkirk experience: first with Christopher Nolan's ground-level, soldiers-eye view of one of the main turning points of World War II, and later with this, Joe Wright's Darkest Hour, told from the point-of-view of the stuffy politicians back at home shouting at each other in dark rooms. While over 300,000 brave men waited for evacuation as the German army closed in around them, Winston Churchill had just been sworn in as prime minister and was left with the unenvious task of dealing with Adolf Hitler, a man Churchill's predecessor Neville Chamberlain had been hoping to strike a peace deal with. As history tells it, Churchill knew the futility of trying to reason with a murderous tyrant and that the only outcome was war, but he had to rally his cabinet and deal with the Dunkirk situation at the same time.

Simply put, Darkest Hour is pure Oscar-bait. Ignoring the question of why yet another biopic of one of Britain's most iconic historic figures is needed in a year that had already seen the Brian Cox-starring Churchill, this is another shameless entry into the ongoing series of middlebrow British period dramas which also include fellow awards-favourites The Queen and The King's Speech. Sparing us the full biopic treatment, Darkest Hour starts in 1940 just as Churchill is chosen to lead the country in the wake of Chamberlain's ousting. Played by Gary Oldman in heavy prosthetics, the man who enjoys champagne with his breakfast and dictates his letters still dressed in his pyjamas charges into the situation like a bull in a china shop, out-shouting those who attempt to fast-track peace talks or undermine him. It's a good performance, and one that will almost definitely win Oldman an overdue Best Actor award. But it still feels like an impression, and despite some attempts to humanise the man with moments of self-doubt, we never break the tough, saggy surface.

Joe Wright has touched on the events of Dunkirk before with 2007's Atonement, a surprisingly moving and powerful love story that featured an impressive tracking shot along the battered beach. Atonement felt like it was created by a film-maker, while Darkest Hour feels like it was sculpted by a committee hoping to overcrowd their posters with lists of their awards nominations. It feels artificial to the point of patronising, with long shots of the smiling working class going about their business as Churchill cruises by trying to get a feel of the public's mood. This is later taken even further he ventures into the London underground on his own to chat with the common folk in a scene that is so out of place it feels like nails down a blackboard. Even worse are the brief moments of battle. CGI bombs are dropped and followed by the camera in a scene that harks back to Pearl Harbor. Impressive supporting turns by Ben Mendelsohn as King George IV and Ronald Pickip as a sympathetic, terminally-ill Chamberlain lighten the mood, while Kristen Scott Thomas, Lily James and Stephen Dillane do the most with what they are given as supportive wife, framing device and sneering villain, respectively. In these times of political uncertainty, Darkest Hour should have had me waving my fist with patriotic pride, but I could barely muster a twitch of the eyebrow.


Directed by: Joe Wright
Starring: Gary Oldman, Kristin Scott Thomas, Ben Mendelsohn, Lily James, Ronald Pickup, Stephen Dillane
Country: USA/UK

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,280: 'Dunkirk' (2017)

There are countless stories of courage and bravery that made their way out of World War II, but perhaps none more famous or as inspirational (at least to us British) as the story, or miracle, of the Dunkirk evacuation. Following the six-week long Battle of France, Allied forces found themselves holed up on the beaches of Dunkirk and surrounded by German forces. Over the course of eight days, over 300,000 troops were rescued by a hastily assembled civilian navy of fishing boats, yachts and lifeboats called into action from Britain. Although Churchill was quick to remind the people that "wars are not won by evacuations," the incident became a symbol of British stiff-upper lipped stoicism and a powerful propaganda tool.

Many movies have covered the event, from 1942's Mrs. Miniver to 2007's Atonement, as well as Leslie Norman's underrated 1958 film Dunkirk. But none have managed to capture the sheer horror of the situation these troops found themselves in as Christopher Nolan's latest, which is an out-and-out masterpiece of technical wizardry and raw, grinding sound design. Long a passion project for the director, Dunkirk drops you into the thick of the action from the get-go with the welcome assumption that audiences will enter the film with at least some prior knowledge, and doesn't let up until the very end of its relatively short 106 minute running-time with the constant ticking of what feels like an ever-present clock. Nolan is determined to put you through the wringer, and does so by placing you up close and personal with the men on land, at sea, and in the air.

The closest person we have to a leading character is Tommy (Fionn Whitehead), a young and resourceful grunt who stumbles onto the beach after evading the Germans. He quickly plots his escape by attempting to board a boat carrying a wounded soldier, and later teaming up with a young soldier played by Harry Styles (who is absolutely fine) as they try desperately to survive the growing carnage. At sea, proud mariner Mr. Dawson (Mark Rylance) sets sail from Britain to rescue "our boys" and do his part in the war. Picking up a shell-shocked soldier played by Cillian Murphy on the way, Dawson must navigate oil-soaked waters with burning ships all around and avoid the German planes screaming in the sky. Battling the Luftwaffe in the air are Spitfire pilots Farrier (Tom Hardy) and Collins (Jack Lowden), the former having to carry out his duty without the aid of his fuel gauge.

These stories do not take place chronologically, a gimmick now something of a Nolan trademark. While this works wonders in a film like Memento, it adds an unnecessary layer of confusion to the unfolding narrative in Dunkirk, occasionally removing you from the action as you try and establish where we are in the story. With Nolan's decision to do away with any backstory to the characters - who are still fully realised and wonderfully performed - there's also a lack of emotional investment. Yet it could be argued that this approach only adds to the fog of war and the terrifying randomness of combat, and this is the most thrilling depiction of battle since 1998's Saving Private Ryan, only without the spatter and gore. Nolan also avoids flag-waving patriotism and finger-pointing, something that Spielberg's Oscar-winner failed to do. Although it's not the complete masterpiece many of us hoped for (although I suspect the majority will disagree), Dunkirk is one of Nolan's most accomplished and dazzling pieces of work. It may not move you, but it will leave you in awe.


Directed by: Christopher Nolan
Starring: Fionn Whitehead, Mark Rylance, Tom Hardy, Kenneth Branagh, Jack Lowden, Harry Styles, Tom Glynn-Carney, Cillian Murphy
Country: UK/Netherlands/France/USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,273: 'The Year Of Living Dangerously' (1982)

Peter Weir's The Year of Living Dangerously is now an Australian classic and, along with the likes of Panic at Hanging Rock and Gallipoli, helped establish Weir as a film-maker to watch our for and eased his inevitable transition to Hollywood. Living Dangerously may now be a more obviously flawed film in 2017 than it was back in '82, but it still retains a sense of raw power stemming from an uncanny sense of place and danger. The setting is Indonesia, 1965, and President Sukarno's grasp on power is quickly fading. It's the eve of his overthrowing by the military and the communist purge that quickly followed, and journalists in Jakarta huddle in sweaty bars, feeding on scraps thrown to them by Sukarno, knocking back beers and chasing tail to pass the time.

The last guy left in a hurry, so young Australian foreign correspondent Guy Hamilton (Mel Gibson) arrives in Jakarta without a single informant or friend to lean on. The diplomats and fellow journalists who inhabit the same bar every night take no pity on him, but sympathetic Chinese-Australian dwarf named Billy Kwan sees something in the handsome, chain-smoking young man and decides to help him. Kwan believes strongly in Sukarno, the President his own people has dubbed the 'Puppet Master' due to his ability to keep the peace between the Communist Party and the military, and that he will save his poverty-stricken people from starvation. As well as setting up a key interview for the young journalist, he also introduces Hamilton to Jill Bryant (Sigourney Weaver), a beautiful assistant working for the British embassy. As the conflict heats up and the stories become juicier and more perilous, Hamilton must choose between his job, his lover and his close friend.

The flaws of The Year of Living Dangerously are more apparent now, 35 years after its release, as the idea of cinema's tendency to 'whitewash' is now more openly discussed. It becomes clear very quickly that the most interesting character in the film is Billy Kwan. He has a much more personal attachment to the events playing out, and proves a more charismatic screen presence than Gibson's blander outsider. He is also played astonishingly well by Linda Hunt, the only actor to win an Academy Award for the playing a character of the opposite sex. When Kwan retreats into the background around the half-way mark, the focus shifts to the blossoming romance between Hamilton and Bryant, and the film becomes far less interesting in the process. However, there are some terrific individual scenes. The initial excitement of shooting a violent protest quickly gets out of hand, and a horrifyingly tense slow-drive through a heavily-armed road-block will leave you holding your breath. Yet it's difficult to shake the feeling that Weir's movie would have been far more absorbing with Kwan as the driving force at its centre.


Directed by: Peter Weir
Starring: Mel Gibson, Sigourney Weaver, Linda Hunt, Bill Kerr, Michael Murphy
Country: Australia/USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,266: 'We Were Soldiers' (2002)

After Steven Spielberg's Saving Private Ryan reinvented the way the brutality and chaos of war was depicted on the cinema screen back in 1998, Hollywood went slightly nuts for all things World War II. At one point, it felt as though we were getting one every other week, and fatigue naturally kicked in, especially since none measured up to Spielberg's visual masterpiece (if very flawed film), other than Terrence Malick's superior The Thin Red Line released the same year. By 2002, attention was moving towards the Vietnam conflict, an unjust and borderline psychotic war that resulting in heavy losses on all sides. It was a favourite topic for many filmmakers in the 1980's, and produced a few greats, but interest seemed to wane as we moved into the 90's. In 2002, We Were Soldiers was supposed to rekindle our fascination with Vietnam, but has since faded into a long list of half-forgotten war movies.

Based on the book We Were Soldiers Once... and Young by Hal Moore and Joseph L. Galloway, Randall Wallace's film attempts to cover the Battle of Ia Drang from three perspectives: the 400 American men fighting at the front, the 4,000 Vietnamese troops they're up against, and the wives at home fearing the arrival of a taxi cab bringing them unwanted news. The bulk of the action follows Moore (Mel Gibson), then a lieutenant colonel, through training his troops and eventually onto the front line, where intelligence is so sparse that they have no idea what they are up against. It turns out that the Americans are greatly outnumbered, and so begins one of the bloodiest battles of the entire war. He is later joined by reporter Galloway (Barry Pepper), who captured much of the conflict on camera as well as picking up a rifle himself. At home, Moore's wife Julie (Madeleine Stowe) intercepts all the letters informing the devastated wives of their loss to hand-deliver them herself.

We Were Soldiers feels like more of a complete overview on the battle thanks to this unique perspective, while the action is some of the toughest and most unflinching in the genre. Perhaps down to its more observational approach - apparently the events take place almost exactly how it played out in real life - the film often gets criticised and labelled as a pro-war movie. I don't feel that what we see is glamorising or promoting war in any way. On the contrary, it refuses to really to take a stand, and this is what makes Wallace's movie far less interesting than it should be. It all boils down to 'war is Hell', but most people know this already whether they have experienced combat or not. The battle scenes are intense, horrifying and well-staged, and demand to be admired from a technical point of view. But it's nothing we haven't seen before. Despite Chris Klein's failure to really convince as a human, We Were Soldiers features many impressive performances, most notably by Sam Elliott as Sgt. Major Plumley, a gruff Sam Elliott-type who mows down his enemies with a revolver while the rest of his men pack automatics, and Gibson himself, who helps tug on the heartstrings during quiet moments of reflection.


Directed by: Randall Wallace
Starring: Mel Gibson, Madeleine Stowe, Greg Kinnear, Sam Elliott, Chris Klein, Keri Russell, Barry Pepper
Country: USA/Germany

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,264: 'The Beguiled' (1971)

As the opening titles of The Beguiled flicker by with a collection of grainy photographs from the brutal American Civil War, it would seem we're in familiar tough, manly action territory, especially when the names of Don Siegel and Clint Eastwood flash on screen. These feelings appear to be confirmed as Eastwood grizzled Union officer John McBurney comes into shot, clearly wounded and hanging on for dear life following a bloody battle with Confederate soldiers. He is discovered by Amy (Pamelyn Ferdin), a 12 year old student at the nearby Seminary for Young Ladies, who quickly takes a keen interest in the handsome but battered young man. As some bloodthirsty Confederate soldiers trot by and they are forced to hide, John plants a lingering kiss on the child's mouth, which immediately cause feelings of discomfort for the viewer. No, The Beguiled is not your typical Siegel tough-guy actioner, but something all the more fascinating and complex.

John is eventually smuggled back into the school run by Miss Martha Farnsworth (Geraldine Page), a woman with a secretive past of her own. She wants the Union soldier gone immediately, but the soldier is charming and badly wounded, so she and the fellow ladies of the school tend to his injured leg and give him a bed. He is kept under lock and key, but he is often visited by the curious ladies, including virginal teacher Edwina (Elizabeth Hartman) and precocious 17 year old student Carol (Jo Ann Harris). With Martha still insistent on turning him over to Confederate troops once he has regained his strength, John seizes the chance to seduce as many of them as he can, taking full advantage of their time away from men and natural curiosity towards the opposite sex. He becomes unnervingly comfortable with his methods of manipulation, and is soon playing the women off one another. But these ladies have seen it all before, whether it be a father, a sibling or a drunken soldier stumbling onto the school grounds with cruel intentions.

The Beguiled is a film about jealousy, sexuality and bitterness, so it's no surprise that it flopped and didn't go down well with fans of Siegel's tougher, more straight-laced output. The film also threatens to venture into horror territory, as emotions begin to spill over and John's scheming becomes apparent. There were cries of misogyny upon the film's release, but although the claim is certainly open for debate, this is not a film by a director who hates women. To label the film misogynist would be to cruelly over-simplify it, as the likes of Martha and Edwina aren't just coy women to be easily taken advantage of, but incredibly complex characters both scarred and enlightened by past experiences with men. John is clearly the most loathsome character, an evil man who uses his physicality and charm to worm his way into their lives and gain their trust, and Siegel makes little attempt to make him sympathetic. It's an incredibly claustrophobic and intense experience, with career-best performances from Page and Hartman. It is Siegel's favourite of his extensive filmography, and it isn't difficult to see why.


Directed by: Don Siegel
Starring: Clint Eastwood, Geraldine Page, Elizabeth Hartman, Jo Ann Harris, Pamelyn Ferdin
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,244: 'Wonder Woman' (2017)

It's incredibly sad to read about how many milestones Wonder Woman touches on, especially in this day and age where a high-profile Twitter user must consider every message they post to the world in fear of being racist, sexist, homophobic, or just plain insensitive. Despite the influx of superhero movies since Marvel kicked off their Cinematic Universe in 2008 with Iron Man, and despite the abundance of long-standing and hugely popular female superheroes existing in the comics, and despite audiences calling out for a female-led superhero film ever since Scarlett Johansson donned the leathers as Black Widow in Iron Man 2, studios have failed to deliver one in 12 years. Perhaps the studios were scared they would have another Elektra on their hands, but that movie failed because it was terrible, and was a spin-off from the also-terrible Daredevil.

The DC Extended Universe, in the face of the critical mauling they received last year with the double-whammy of Batman v Superman and Suicide Squad, can only be applauded for taking the much-overdue 'risk' of launching a female-led franchise with Wonder Woman, a movie that not only represents so much in terms of moving cinema out of a stone-age mentality and into the modern world, but surpasses all expectations in a time of superhero overkill. Wonder Woman is, above all, charming, funny and exciting, and will hopefully help steer the DCEU back on track after an incredibly wobbly start. Making her introduction in Batman v Superman and emerging as one of the few positive things to be said about Zack Snyder's overblown and poorly-constructed smack-down, Wonder Woman begins in the present day but flashes back to the time glimpsed in the black-and-white photograph sent to her by Ben Affleck's Batman, when World War I was in full flow and her heart was won by a spy named Steve.

The young Diana grows up on the island of Themyscira, a beautiful hidden paradise created by Zeus to be a home for the Amazons, a tribe of fierce female warriors tasked with protecting the world from the Greek God's evil, warmongering brother Ares. Diana's mother, Queen Hippolyta (Connie Nielsen), attempts to shield her from the horrors of war and forbids her to practice combat, while her auntie Anitope (Robin Wright) realises her potential and trains her in secret. Zeus left the islanders a gift, a weapon called the 'Godkiller', which will prove decisive when the battle with Ares finally stirs. Cue the arrival of Steve Trevor (Chris Pine), an Allied spy who stumbles on the island while fleeing the Germans. He brings death and war with him, and the Amazons want to kill him before Diana intervenes, revealing he saved her life. The tribe want nothing to do with a war waged by man, but Diana suspects Ares may be puppet-master behind the conflict that has taken millions of lives. Against her mother's wishes, she travels with Steve to London, where he reveals to his superiors German plans to release a devastating new mustard gas created by General Ludendroff (Danny Huston) and Spanish chemist Dr. Maru (Elena Anaya).

The word 'man' carries a special significance, and director Patty Jenkins carefully weaves this idea into the film without rubbing it in your face. As well as the violent, dangerous 'world of men' lurking across the waters, there is also No Man's Land, the stretch of mud and rubble separating the two warring fronts. This is a place that no man can hope to survive, and this sets up the triumphant moment seen in the trailers in which Diana deflects machine-gun fire with her bracelets and shield before taking out anybody daft enough to stand in her way. This scene is made all the more powerful by Gal Gadot, who puts in a terrific performance despite her lack of acting experience and puts all the doubters to rest, proving to be just as savvy with comedy as the action. The fact that we care so much about her also means that the CGI-heavy climax, which seems to be trend with DC, can almost be forgiven. Thanks to well-written character development and some charming chemistry between Gadot and the ever-brilliant Chris Pine, there is a real emotional investment that was lacking in DC's previous misfires. In terms of origin stories, this doesn't rewrite the rule-book, but the importance and significance of Wonder Woman should not be underestimated.


Directed by: Patty Jenkins
Starring: Gal Gadot, Chris Pine, Connie Nielsen, Robin Wright, Danny Huston, David Thewlis, Elena Anaya
Country: USA/China/Hong Kong/UK/Italy/Canada/New Zealand

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,224: 'Kundun' (1997)

Kundun, Martin Scorsese's beautifully realised story of the Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th Dalai Lama, is possibly his most divisive amongst fans. Directed by the guy whose specialities are wiseguys in sharp suits and dazzling camerawork, Kundun is a remarkably subdued tale. Scorsese had tackled religion before with the controversial The Last Temptation of Christ, but his version of the story of Jesus also came with a recognisable edge. Yet even his roughest and toughest movies come with a sense of spirituality - Mean Streets in particular - and Kundun has this in abundance, so Scorsese isn't exactly far from safe ground. Spirituality is woven into the movie's very fabric, as is the idea of watching a ready-made saint in action.

A saint is precisely how Scorsese views the Dalai Lama, and Melissa Mathison's script paints him like a key religious figure whose teachings can now only be read in scripture. As of 2017, Gyatso is still alive and reigning, although the film begins in 1937. This almost mythical presence does work in the context of Buddhism however, as if their beliefs in reincarnation are true, then Gyatso is just another body containing a soul hundreds of years old. As a young boy (played by Tenzin Yeshi Paichang at 2 years old), he is shown various objects, some of which belonged to the previous Dalai Lama, by some Tibetan monks. He chooses correctly, and is taken away to lead, but as to whether this was the expression on the monks face as he fondled the items or genuine reincarnation, Scorsese lets you ponder. He grows old and wiser, and faces difficult decisions as Imperial China invade to claim Tibet as their own.

This is undoubtedly Scorsese's most beautiful picture, and he takes his time to admire the lavish golds and reds of the ceremonial robes, as well as the intricate creation of Bhavachakra and its inevitable destruction, all backed by Philip Glass' haunting score. The decadence comes at a price however, as although we spend near enough the entire screen time with the Dalai Lama, we learn little about Gyatso. He must suffer his decisions in relative silence, or in hushed utterances to his trusted council. The refusal to follow a traditional narrative makes for a slow-moving if never boring movie, with the drama punctured by a powerful sequence depicting Gyatso standing in a sea of slaughtered monks. While it may leaving us questioning who this man truly was, I can only admire Scorsese's insistence on making the movie he wanted to make. Movies like Kundun are the reason why the director will always be remembered as a true master of his craft.


Directed by: Martin Scorsese
Starring: Tenzin Thuthob Tsarong , Gyurme Tethong, Tulku Jamyang Kunga Tenzin, Tenzin Yeshi Paichang
Country: USA/Monaco

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,216: 'Overlord' (1975)

Stuart Cooper's Overlord is a meditation on the mechanics of war and the young souls swept into it. After winning the Silver Bear at the 25th Berlin International Film Festival, the film became incredibly obscure until recently, when it was given the restoration it deserved by the lovely folks at Criterion. Beginning in a quaint English home and ending on the beaches of Normandy for 'Operation Overlord' during World War II, it's a simple yet hypnotic story of a young private named Tom (Brian Stirner) and his slow journey to a death he feels is inevitable. The very first scene shows an out-of-focus soldier running from or towards an unknown threat before being shot down, only to be revealed as a dream sequence. This vision plagues Tom's thoughts, but he nevertheless remains somewhat chipper about it.

What makes this very personal journey so incredibly powerful is the sense of impending doom. Tom always seems to be on the move, be it on a train or an army jeep, as if he is making a slow trek towards his fate, and he chooses this time to daydream. Despite not knowing where the war is heading or if he'll even see combat, he somehow knows he is going to die but remains nonchalant about it. A nice boy, well spoken and slight, Tom is not built for the army, but he does what he is told and makes friends. The only time we really see his personality come to the fore is when he meets a pretty young lady (Julie Neesam) and the pair enjoy what little time they have together. He tells her they'll meet again, but we know they won't. In making Tom such an everyman, Overlord studies the anonymity of battle, and celebrates the millions of unknown soldiers who have charged into certain death without really understanding why.

Starting out life as a documentary, Cooper later made the bold decision to use the startling archive footage provided by the Imperial War Museum and weave a narrative through it. Cinematographer John Alcott (who collaborated with Stanley Kubrick on the likes of 2001: A Space Odyssey and Barry Lyndon) employs grainy black-and-white photography for the central story so it is interchangeable with the stock footage. The result is staggering. By adding sound, scenes of devastating city bombings become hellish nightmares, and a beach landing turns into something out of science-fiction. In a bizarre scene, a water wheel device powered by mini rockets rolls across the water and onto land, hoping to detonate any landmines or unexploded bombs before mightily toppling over. It's World War II like you've never seen it before, and it's real. It's a winning combination of observational and personal, making Overlord one of the most innovative and devastating humanist war films ever made.


Directed by: Stuart Cooper
Starring: Brian Stirner, Davyd Harries, Nicholas Ball, Julie Neesam
Country: UK

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,165: 'The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp' (1943)

Colonel Blimp started life as a satirical cartoon for the London Evening Standard by Sir David Low. An ageing, plump, pompous and eternally red-faced blowhard, Blimp was Low's idea of the militaristic upper-classes; the kind of chest-puffing Jingo who would voice his frequently contradictory declarations from a Turkish bath wearing nothing but a towel. At first, it would seem that Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger's The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp is directly adapting the political cartoons, as the old man Colonel is rudely disturbed from his sleep in a Turkish bath by a group of youngsters who have arrived early for a planned war game, to declare that such chivalry in war will not be practised by the enemy. We then go back 40 years, and any hint of satire makes way for a story of romance, friendship, and growing old.

During the Boer War in 1902, the young Clive Candy (Roger Livesey) receives a letter from Edith Hunter (Deborah Kerr) in Berlin, who warns him that a known rogue named Kaunitz is spreading anti-British propaganda. Going against orders, Candy travels to Germany and ends up causing a scene by provoking Kaunitz. To settle matters, a duel is arranged with a randomly-chosen German officer, who turns out to be Theo Kretschmar-Schuldorff (Anton Walbrook). While recovering from their wounds in a military hospital, the two men hit it off and begin a friendship that will last for more than 40 years. Moving through the First and Second World Wars, we follow Candy as he rises through the military ranks, fails and succeeds in love, before finding himself an old man, greatly outdated and socially displaced.

It's astonishing that this film got made at all. On top of being rather experimental in terms of tone and narrative structure (it feels very much like the English equivalent of Citizen Kane), Colonel Blimp was shot in glorious - and expensive - Technicolor during wartime, running at almost three hours when most films wouldn't dare to push 100 minutes. Winston Churchill tried to ban it, believing it to be an anti-war propaganda piece poking fun at the idea of 'British-ness', when it is anything but. Instead, the film deliberately gives out mixed signals, lovingly embracing the idea of gentlemanly conduct during a bloody war, while pondering the necessity of brutality, especially when faced with an enemy who play like the Nazis did (and were doing at the time, of course). While British propaganda was making sure to send a clear and strong message about the enemy, Colonel Blimp makes one of its main characters a sympathetic German, and is clear to highlight that these nations will be friends again in the future.

Livesey is staggering as Candy (who later becomes Wynne-Candy). The make-up work is absolutely flawless, easily trumping the big Hollywood productions we get these days. The man genuinely ages before our eyes, and Livesey manages to entirely convince as a man gaining experience and weariness through the years. He may be a man whose values are slowly becoming obsolete, but he remains a good man, and a thoroughly lovable one. Walbrook delivers an understated performance, and brings a tear to the eye during a monologue in which tries to convince British officials why they shouldn't deport him back to Nazi Germany, and Kerr juggles three roles - as Candy's lost love Edith; his wife Barbara; and his driver 'Johnny' in his later years - with absolute ease. It has remarkable scope yet is incredibly intimate, and it's a film that should have been branded across every cinema screen in the country by the War Office. Quite possibly the finest film ever to emerge from our rainy shores.


Directed by: Michael Powell, Emeric Pressburger
Starring: Roger Livesey, Deborah Kerr, Anton Walbrook, John Laurie
Country: UK

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie