Beat Girl, known as Wild for Kicks in the U.S., was another entry in the juvenile delinquent sub-genre started by the likes of High School Hell Cats and Teenage-Age Crime Wave, which took a look at the 'troubled' youth of the post-World War II generation when rock 'n' roll was moulding the clean-cut teenagers into misanthropic tearaways. Directed by Edmond T. Greville, Beat Girl is far too silly and melodramatic to leave any lasting impact, but there is a joy to be had with watching a bunch of pretty 1960's teenagers mope and complain in what would likely be classed as acceptable rebellious behaviour nowadays, and to see Swinging 60's London in all its glory.
The story concerns Jennifer (Gillian Hills), the 'beat girl' of the title, and her struggle to accept a new addition to the household. Her rich and rather liberal father Paul (Black Narcissus' David Farrar) dotes on his young, beautiful daughter, but remains concerned about her late night partying and dead-beat friends. Her behaviour takes a downturn when he brings home his new young and gorgeous French wife Nichole (Noelle Adam), who Jennifer takes an instant disliking to, as most children of divorce do. Nichole makes all the effort to bond with her new step-daughter, but Jennifer would rather be hanging out at the local jazz dive with her friends (including real-life musician and teen idol Adam Faith). After a chance encounter reveals Nichole's past life, Jennifer becomes intent on revealing the big secret to her work-obsessed father.
My main issue with Beat Girl is that it isn't totally clear whose side we're meant to be on. On one hand, the parents are shown as forward-thinking and modern while the youngsters (including a baby-faced Oliver Reed) squabble on a dusty floor over a half-drunk bottle of gin. On the other, the apparently misguided youth act out for good reason, and ultimately pose no actual threat ("Fighting's for squares, man!"). The film improves when it dabbles in the sleazy side of London, particularly as Jennifer's curiosity over strip joint Les Girls leads to shady club owner Kenny (Christopher Lee) trying to recruit the jailbait as one of his main attractions, which also leads to the sight of some surprisingly revealing routines. This is exploitation after all, and there's a wonderful sense of grime in these moments. Ultimately, Beat Girl suffers from long periods of off-putting melodrama and silly dancing, but there is a tremendous raunchiness to the film also.
The biggest obstacle faced by a studio looking to cash-in on a surprise success that resonated well with both audiences and critics is the direction in which to take it. The seemingly obvious call would be to study the original and pick apart the ingredients which helped form, in the case of Alien, an instant science-fiction classic. While the sequel faced trouble getting the greenlight as Fox procrastinated over a project they felt was a costly risk, this delay in production was only leading to the sequel rights falling into the hands of the perfect guy for the job. Production on The Terminator was facing a lengthy delay due to scheduling conflicts, so director James Cameron found himself some spare time to pen a script. Only this wasn't to be called Alien 2, but Aliens, as Cameron sought to embrace the scope and ambition he would later become famous for.
While Alien features gruff space truckers, Aliens is led by a band of buzz-cut space marines, and Cameron's idea was not to continue with the slow-burn, show-little approach of the original, but a relentless assault on the senses. It's certainly isn't that Cameron doesn't know how to generate tension (the slow beeping of the motion tracker and the moment trapped inside a room with a face-hugger is clear evidence that he does), but he has a different method of pay-off. A long build-up following by a genuinely terrifying jump-scare made you hold your breath in Alien, but when the indecipherable blobs turn into a huge hoard of the remorseless, slimy killing machine, it's difficult to catch it. It's incredibly long, with a climax that seems to go on forever. But Aliens truly puts you through the wringer, to the point that, by the end, you loathe the xenomorph just as much as Ripley (Sigourney Weaver).
After spending 57 years in stasis, Ripley is picked up and rescued by her employers the Weyland-Yutani Corporation, the very company that sent the crew of the Nostromo to their doom. Her wild claims of a perfect alien hunter are dismissed, mainly because the planet it was originally discovered on was colonised years ago, and her flight officer license is revoked. When communication with the colony is inevitably lost, shifty company representative Carter Burke (Paul Reiser) convinces Ripley to join an expedition back to the alien planet to investigate and exterminate any alien lifeforms discovered. She reluctantly agrees, and finds herself on a mission accompanied by a rag-tag squad of marines, who all seem trigger-happy but incredibly naive about the dangers they will face. When they arrive, the only survivor is a little girl named Newt (Carrie Henn), who speaks of monsters who mostly come out at night... mostly.
Sigourney Weaver is so terrific in this film that she received Academy Award nomination for Best Actress, something almost unheard of in the sci-fi/horror genre. Having learned that her daughter had died of old age just two years before she was rescued, her relationship with Newt and her eventual showdown with the alien queen is given a whole new layer. She is backed up by a supporting cast who help distinguish themselves in the platoon of grunts, with special mention going to Michael Biehn, Jenette Goldstein and, of course, the late Bill Paxton. They help elevate the film from an exciting sea of bullets and spattered alien carcasses to an engrossing thriller featuring characters you genuinely hope will make it out alive. Of course, they all don't, but Cameron makes almost every death memorable and occasionally oddly powerful. I still prefer the quiet horror of Alien, but I can completely understand why many prefer the deafening terror of Cameron's vision, but it can quite rightly take its place among cinema's greatest ever sequels.
Before the stream of sequels, spin-offs, video games, board games, and it's own incredibly underwhelming origin story, and before this year's shameless yet occasionally entertaining rip-off Life, there was Ridley Scott's Alien, a masterclass in how to create an A-picture out of a B-list idea and budget. Even before that of course, there was Mario Bava's Planet of the Vampires, but Scott infuses his film with such elegance, sheer horror, and it's very own mythos (which would be tirelessly explored in the aforementioned extended multi-media universe), that to label the seminal sci-fi classic as plagiarism of Bava's interesting, if schlocky, 60's space opera would be preposterous (although it clearly draws inspiration). As a favourite of most children growing up in the 80's and 90's, Alien joins the likes of Jaws, Back to the Future, The Goonies and Close Encounters of the Third Kind as one of the untouchable genre classics.
The crew of the Nostronomo, a starship freighter owned by the Weyland-Yutani Corporation are awoken from hypersleep by an urgent message from the on-board computer, Mother. A signal has been detected coming from a nearby planetoid, and by the terms of their contract they are obligated to investigate. The crew are a rag-tag bunch of what can only be described as working-class space truckers; scruffy, chain-smoking, and constantly complaining about pay. Many of them, including Warrant Officer Ripley (Sigourney Weaver), object to the unnecessary risk, but Captain Dallas (Tom Skerritt) overrules. Touching down on the dark, desolate planet, they quickly come across a crashed alien ship containing the dead body of a large, unknown species. Executive Officer Kane (John Hurt) probes further, eventually discovering what appears to be a nesting area. One of the eggs opens, and a spider-like creature attaches itself to his face, rendering him unresponsive but alive.
It's isn't difficult to work out how things unravel from this point. After the shock of the 'chestburster' scene (which I still recall seeing for the first time as a youngster), Alien follows the tradition of the slasher flick. But one of the many things that separates the film from the formulaic tedium of the slasher genre is the care Scott takes with showing you very little. The brief glimpses of the xenomorph, growing rapidly as the film progresses, are terrifying enough, but it's the long moments between the kills that makes Alien so engrossing. The design of the ship's interior is dark and dank, almost reptilian in appearance, purposely sculpted to make it seem that the creature could pop out of any corner of the screen, at any time. Our fears are confirmed in one particularly effective sequence involving the search for the ship's cat Jones, where what appears to be some harmless tubing in the background suddenly turns into an oozing, snarling face..
Now one of the most iconic monsters in cinema history, the xenomorph is a clever accumulation of our worst fears. A creature of pure survival, it serves only to prolong the existence of its species, whether it be to wipe out any possible threat, or using its victims as hosts for its offspring. James Cameron's admittedly excellent sequel threw more of them at the screen, and the subsequent films opted for CGI. But there is nothing scary about special effects, and Bolaji Badejo's performance inside the suit proves that practical effects can stand the test of time, and completely terrify when employed correctly. The alien isn't the only star of the show however, as Sigourney Weaver's badass survivor Ripley is one of the silver screen's most recognisable and much-loved heroines, in a role that could have been a simple 'last girl' routine in the hands of a lesser actor. She is backed up by a fantastic cast that also includes Veronica Cartwright, Ian Holm, Harry Dean Stanton and Yaphet Kotto, all making their archetype characters feel alive. But the real star is Scott who, having gone off the boil in recent years, reminds us of a time when he was capable of delivering pure cinematic magic.
The decade following the release of Quentin Tarantino's two-punch of Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction saw many independent filmmakers clamouring to try and recreate the magic of those crime movies, which catapulted the one-time video store clerk to directorial super stardom. Stripped of his ear for witty dialogue and everything else that made them stand out, most of these imitations simply consisted of bad men pointing guns at each other whilst talking pop culture. This craze has since died down, but based on Ben Wheatley's latest venture Free Fire, there are those still longing to recreate the magic of those 90's classics. Free Fire is the cinematic equivalent of pillaging your toy box as a child and have the most colourful figures shoot it out with one another for the flimsiest of reasons. However, this isn't entirely a bad thing.
In 1970's Boston, a bunch of mean-looking men and one woman meet at an abandoned warehouse to finalise an arms deal. IRA members Chris (Cillian Murphy) and Frank (Wheatley regular Michael Smiley) meet with intermediary Justine (Brie Larson), and eventually with charming connect Ord (Armie Hammer looking very comfortable rocking a 70's beard). Arms dealer Vernon (Sharlto Copley) has some bad news in that he doesn't have the guns ordered, but the Irishmen push ahead for the deal anyway. A rocky introduction seems to be heading towards peaceful resolution, until Vernon's associate Harry (a hairy and bespectacled Jack Reynor) recognises junkie Stevo (Sam Riley) - one of Chris and Frank's gang - from a violent confrontation the night before. Negotiations quickly escalate into a stand-off between both parties, and a huge shoot-out ensues. With a briefcase full of money and a truck load of guns there for the taking, everyone's motivation and loyalty is quickly under scrutiny.
After tackling the lofty concept of socioeconomic commentary in messy misfire High Rise, Wheatley has fallen back on a simplistic and indulgent crowd-pleaser. With many an object to hide behind in the expansive warehouse setting, the witty dialogue of the opening thirty minutes becomes a cycle of leg-and-shoulder wounds and ricocheting bullets. It's a rather childish concept, but it manages to entertain by refusing to take itself seriously. Fracturing loyalties and double-crosses play second fiddle to guessing who will die next and just how they will meet their doom, backed by an impressive line-up of character actors. Outside of a couple of gruesome deaths, the script by Wheatley and long-time writing partner Amy Jump offers few surprises. Perhaps the couple needed to recuperate after their ambitious but ultimately disappointing attempt to bring High-Rise to the big screen. Whatever the reasoning for tackling a project so knowingly lacking in scale and originality, I enjoyed it, and hopefully now it's out of their system they will be capable of delivering a film as masterful as their jewel in the crown, Kill List.
Alex Kurtzman's The Mummy marks the arrival of Universal's 'Dark Universe', the studio's attempt at re-branding its flagpole monsters from the archives as a kind of flawed superhero team who will no doubt be brought together to face off a big bad sometime in the future. With a plan to introduce the likes of Dracula, Frankenstein, The Invisible Man and The Phantom of the Opera, The Mummy seems an odd choice to start, given the recent not-so-well received trilogy starring Brendan Fraser that kicked off as recently as 1999. It's a humongous task, but one need only look at the success of Marvel to learn that billions of dollars can be raked in if enough care is taken when building the expansive world from the ground up, teasing the characters and events to come while telling a satisfying self-contained story at the same time.
But one can also looks at DC's venture into universe-building to see how it can fall flat on its face, although it now thankfully seems back on track after the success of Wonder Woman. The Mummy makes the grave mistake of laying all of its card on the table, trying to be everything from a horror to an old-school adventure to a Tom Cruise blockbuster, while never convincing as any. Tying this new world of gods and monsters together is Russell Crowe's Dr. Jekyll, the Nick Fury who will eventually unite the team under a secret society called Prodigium, the Dark Universe's version of S.H.I.E.L.D. Shortly after he introduced, he fails to get to his drugs on time and turns into Mr. Hyde, a type of evil Ray Winstone only with super strength, in a scene that verges on the downright embarrassing. Is it not enough to simply mention the name and let the audience generate their own excitement? No, as The Mummy aims to be nothing more than a show-all, CGI-reliant Michael Bay movie that throws so much shit at the screen that it becomes impossible to care about anything you're seeing.
Tom Cruise plays Nick Morton, an unconvincing cheeky-chappy antique hunter-cum-thief who also works for the U.S. Army in some capacity. He's in Iraq with his assistant Chris (comic relief Jake Johnson), and it isn't long before the town around them is torn apart in a hail of bullets. In a stroke of luck, they uncover a massive Egyptian tomb for Princess Ahmanet (Sofia Boutella). Nick just wants the loot, but as eye-candy archaeologist and exposition-machine Jenny Halsey (Annabelle Wallis) informs us, the discovery is big news. Nick's impatience gets the better of him and he accidentally releases the tomb in a splash of mercury and CGI spiders. It's love at first sight for Ahmanet, who takes an instant liking to Nick's botoxed face and wants him as a vessel for the return of Egyptian God Set. And so begins her vague plan to destroy London with an army of CGI monstrosities and fart clouds, as she sets out to recover a ruby found in a recent excavation.
The Mummy is made all the more frustrating by offering tiny glimpses of the film it should have been. A stand-out plane crash set-piece and an impressive performance from Boutella (who was a badass in Kingsman: The Secret Service and stole the show in Stat Trek Beyond) hint at an exciting and modern adventure-horror movie, but the script by David Koepp, Christopher McQuarrie and Dylan Kussman seems more concerned with pandering to a mainstream crowd and bending the story to the strengths of its lead actor, despite this being one of his worst performances. It switches between horror, comedy and action, often within the same scene, cramming in baffling exposition and universe-building on top. 1999's The Mummy had many of the same problems, but the first film at least had a goofy charm. What this means for the franchise going forward is anyone's guess, although things to seem to be moving forward despite this film's critical and commercial failures. But will anyone seriously want to see a stand alone film about this interpretation of Dr. Jekyll?
Sleepless, or to give the film its original Italian title, Non ho sonno, was a commercial success in its native country and marked the return of legendary director Dario Argento to the giallo sub-genre after a long hiatus. Essentially a slasher at heart, Sleepless does see the return of the director's popular trademarks, making this a formulaic and unsurprising serial killer movie elevated by some stylish camerawork and a thumping, energetic score. Taking place decades after Turin was left shaking following a series of killings known as 'The Dwarf Murders', it was assumed that the killer was dead after its main suspect disappeared and the crimes came to an abrupt halt. Yet when people (women) start to turn up dead in the same style as those committed back in 1983, it would seem that the one responsible is back and thirsty for more bloodshed.
A young boy, Giacomo (Stefano Dionisi), witnesses the horrific murder of his mother. The lead investigator, Moretti (Max von Sydow), promises the shell-shocked youth that he will catch the killer if it takes him the rest of his life. Fast-forward seventeen years later, and the case of The Dwarf Murders remains officially unsolved. Paying the bills by working as a waiter in restaurant, Giacomo, now living in Rome, is pulled back to Turin when his friend offers him a place to stay as the murders start to pile up. With the police clueless and familiar with the notorious murders years before, they turn to the now-retired Moretti for assistance, but his memory has deteriorated so much that he remembers little about the case. Reminded of his promise, Moretti hooks up with Giacomo in an attempt to solve the murders themselves. Is giallo novelist Vincenzo de Fabritiis, the dwarf who emerged as the prime suspect before seemingly passing away, actually alive and eager to finish the job?
With sightings of a little person made at almost every murder scene, it appears that the answer is yes. But like most of the greatest gialli, Argento's script (co-written by Franco Ferrini and Carlo Lucarelli) throws in more red-herrings than you can count and will leave you guessing until the very end. With a running time of just shy of 2 hours, Sleepless is overlong, and doesn't offer enough in the way of originality to justify the slog. It may just catch you off guard though, as Argento throws in a set-piece on an empty train with only a potential victim, a conductor and the unseen killer on board, which ranks as some of the greatest work he's ever done. With the return of Goblin on the soundtrack, the movie often feels like a return to form for the Italian filmmaker, but slasher tropes dominate while the giallo nods often feel like a side-note. This means that there is perhaps more than just a hint of misogyny, and the narrative is repetitive in nature. Still, it was the best work he had done since 1987's Opera, until he regressed again into a series of movies that varied between the mediocre to the downright terrible.
Despite the critical and commercial success of Mamoru Oshii's Ghost in the Shell, an adaptation of the equally-popular manga by Masamune Shirow, it took a whole nine years for a sequel to arrive. Without Oshii's involvement, a spin-off series entitled Stand Alone Complex was launched, which satisfied fans despite having very little connection to the movie, but shared many of its themes of cyber-punk futurism, perilous technological advancements, and philosophical pondering. Oshii's sequel, Innocence, which picks up the story of the original some years later, was what the fans really wanted. But does it live up to the legacy left by Ghost in the Shell, a film now considered a classic of the sci-fi genre, animated or not? It's focus is slight, but the ambition remains lofty, however Innocence certainly cowers in the presence of its towering predecessor.
Huge advancements in cybernetics now mean that the line between human and technology is more difficult to decipher than ever. Humans utilise robotics to increase their physical and mental potential, and your soul (or 'ghost') and memories can be downloaded, stored and transferred. Batou (voiced by Akio Otsuka), more cyborg than human, works for Section 9. One of his few memories is that of his former partner Major Motoko Kusanagi (Atsuko Tanaka), whose ghost disappeared into cyberspace at the end of the previous film. Now partnered with the mostly-human rookie Togusa (Koichi Yamadera), the bickering cops start to investigate a series of murders committed by malfunctioning gynoids, or sex bots. The trail leads them from the yakuza to a popular robot manufacturer, who provide a certain service for those with the money to pay for it.
The plot is be relatively straight-forward and carries the tone of a buddy-cop noir for the most part, although there's an occasional detour into mind-fucking 'ghost-hack' territory. But Oshii is less interested in the narrative driving Batou to get where he needs to be than the philosophical questions raised by this beautiful, terrifying future. The dialogue, which pulls quotes from various obscure philosophical texts, becomes increasingly difficult to keep up with, especially when the majority of the characters spend more time debating their place in the world than doing their actual job. And if you're watching with subtitles, like I did, then good luck to you. To compare it to The Matrix Reloaded may be somewhat harsh, as Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence boasts some stunning animation (a blend of hand-drawn and computer animation), and a collection of well-staged, bone-crunching action scenes. Some of the imagery is genuinely haunting, and it's in these moments that this sequel feels like it may live up to its predecessor.
Say what you will about Netflix, the multi-million dollar streaming service used the world over that has come under intense scrutiny in the past year for its debatable participation in the Cannes Film Festival, but its ability to fuel water-cooler chit-chat has done wonders for the documentary genre. The 10-part true crime series Making a Murderer became a phenomenon, proving so popular that it managed to cast doubts over the guilt of its subject and on the American justice system as a whole. The service's most recent conversation-starter is Icarus, directed by amateur cyclist Bryan Fogel, which started out like a Super Size Me expose on the world of doping but evolved into something else entirely. While it certainly has its flaws, it's an astonishing tale that would have been missed by most on a limited cinema run, but in the wide-reaching hands of Netflix, it has a chance to cause a stir.
Director Fogel's only previous directorial credit is 2012's little-seen Jewtopia, a gross-out comedy which does little to suggest he is a natural fit for a crusading documentary filmmaker. But, in the early stages of Icarus, he proves himself adept chronicling his journey from amateur cyclist to doped-up competition-winner. Hoping to replicate the process adopted by the likes of exposed drug cheat Lance Armstrong, Fogel spends much of the films first half-hour injecting testosterone and God-knows-what-else into his thighs and buttocks, and hitting the gym to prepare to win a gruelling seven-day cycle across France. He seeks guidance from Grigory Rodchenkov, the head of anti-doping in Russia, who seems to know every trick in the book on how to cheat the drug tests and avoid detection by WADA (World Anti-Doping Agency). Yet while his tests show a huge improvement on his physical prowess, he struggles to make any impact on the race, with a huge margin remaining between him and the top 10 racers. It seems his entire documentary is crumbling around him.
Then the news breaks of Russia's participation in a doping operation that dates back decades, and Rodchenkov starts to worry for his life. When his friend and colleague dies under mysterious circumstances, Rodchenkov flees to America to turn whistle-blower, and Fogel, having formed a close friendship with the charismatic, larger-than-life filmmaker's dream, gets the scoop. The director wisely relegates himself into the background as Rodchenkov's story and personality take over, and the film takes on the tone of a thriller. It's a story you have no doubt read about in the media, but Icarus boasts the opportunity to hear it directly from the horse's mouth, and Fogel is happy to let his subject talk. Having stumbled upon a goldmine, it's a wonder why Fogel chose to keep so much of his original narrative in the movie. While his lack of vanity in accepting his failure is admirable, it would have worked better with 15 minutes or so shaved off, and the film feels baggy and overlong as a result. Still, Icarus has the ability to shock, revealing that the scandal goes all the way to the very top, and may have been employed as a politic tactic by Putin to justify his invasion of Ukraine.
Kill the Messenger, director Michael Cuesta's re-telling of journalist Gary Webb's expose of the CIA's illegal funding of Nicaraguan Contra rebels and its links to the crack epidemic sweeping across the country, has all the ingredients for a gripping, fact-based drama centred around a story everybody should know more about (at the time, people were distracted by Bill Clinton's White House antics involving Monica Lewinsky). Seminal movies such as All the President's Men and Zodiac portrayed the dangers that come with investigative journalism and managed keep a real-life story suspenseful despite many knowing the outcome already. Kill the Messenger sadly doesn't achieve much of this, and although the movie is competently made and solidly acted, it struggles to hold the attention it should demand by playing things frustratingly formal.
Jeremy Renner stars as Webb, the goateed, informally-dressed San Jose Mercury News reporter who carries more than a whiff of anti-establishment about him. While investigating the government seizure of drug dealer's property, even when they've been found innocent, he is handed court papers which seem to reveal that a major drug runner is actually a CIA operative. It's a revelation that will change Webb's life, and he is soon on the government's radar when he follows leads to kingpin Rick Ross (Michael Kenneth Williams) and eventually to Managua to meet with cartel boss Norwin Meneses (Andy Garcia). Everything he uncovers seems to suggest that the CIA, committing high treason in the process, is indirectly funding the wave of crack decimating entire neighbourhoods throughout the U.S. Webb reports his findings in a three-part series entitled Dark Alliance, which quickly becomes one of the internet's first viral hits, before the CIA decide to turn his world upside down.
In many ways, the story of a little guy being cruelly picked apart by higher powers is comparable to the one told in The Insider. Yet Michael Mann's masterpiece also demonstrated that a film can be grounded in fact and procedural while keeping the audience engrossed in the story it's telling. Kill the Messenger wisely reserves a large chunk of the running time for what Webb went through after breaking the story, but much of this is bogged down in cliched domestic squabbles, with Rosemarie DeWitt finding herself criminally underwritten as the nagging wife whose feelings drastically change from one scene to the next. However, it has its moments, especially when showing how Webb was surgically discredited while his bosses (played by Mary Elizabeth Winstead and Oliver Platt) slowly distanced themselves from the negative attention. Renner manages to carry the film despite not being given a whole lot to do apart from exchanging a few "I'm right, you're wrong," arguments with his colleagues. The real-life story alone is shocking enough to make the film worth a watch, but there's a emptiness at its core.
Back in 1980's and early 90's, the threat of nuclear war still played on many people's minds. With the umpteenth Cold War kicked off by the rise to power of Mikhail Gorbachev in the USSR, an arms race commenced between the Soviets and the US under president Ronald Reagan, until the Soviet Union eventually collapsed in 1991. Miracle Mile takes these fears and ponders what the knowledge of an incoming nuclear strike and imminent death would do to a person while everybody goes about their business none the wiser. By leaving it until the very end to confirm whether or not World War III has officially commenced, or if it's all in the mind of its increasingly paranoid and desperate protagonist, Miracle Mile is a tense and often funny end-of-the-world (or not) thriller.
The film begins with a meeting between two singletons, trombone player Harry (Anthony Edwards) and coffee shop waitress Julie (Mare Winningham). It's love at first sight and they agree to meet up again later after Julie finishes her shift to grab a bite to eat. Harry oversleeps however, and by the time he makes it to the coffee shop, Julie is nowhere to be found. As he nervously waits outside, the phone rings in the nearby telephone booth. The man on the other line, who believes he is calling his father, informs Harry that an irreversible nuclear strike has been set in motion, and the U.S. has approximately one hour before complete annihilation. The man is cut short by machine gun fire, before another voice tells Harry to forget everything he has heard. After a bit of further investigation, the outlandish claim start to ring true. Deciding he would rather spend his last moments with the woman he loves, Harry begins his search, always clinging to the belief that they can somehow escape with their lives.
With much of the action dedicated to Harry's panicked dash across a sleeping Los Angeles, where he encounters many offbeat characters played by the likes of Mykelti Williamson, Denise Crosby, Eddie Bunker and Brian Thompson, Miracle Mile brought to mind the enthralling aimlessness of Martin Scorsese's After Hours, and the eerie emptiness of a nighttime city of Paul Thomas Anderson's Magnolia. There's real tension in the events leading up to the possible apocalypse, and even more so when word begins to spread and downtown turns into sheer chaos and lawlessness. At the film's centre is the romance between Harry and Julie, and there's a sweetness to the irony of meeting your true love on the day the world will be reduced to rubble. It's played nicely by the two leads, with Edwards reminding us that he is a solid character actor deserving of more movie roles. A true forgotten gem that leaves you wondering if you would rather be given the chance to make the most of your last moments on Earth, or remain blissfully ignorant.
Train to Busan, Sang-ho Yeon's hugely successful South Korean zombie movie, may just be the most effortlessly enjoyable action movie to feature the brain-hungry undead in years. Taking inspiration from the maestro who created the 'zombie' we know and love today, the late, great George A. Romero, as well as Danny Boyle's faster and scarier flesh-eaters, it's a wonderfully constructed and nail-bitingly tense piece, which manages to mix action, horror and a bit of family drama into two hours of pure entertainment. It also finds time to deliver a message amidst the carnage, and one that is perhaps more relevant than ever in these unpredictable times. In the most hopeless of situations, we must ultimately look out for one another if we are to stand a chance of surviving. Train to Busan condemns those who are willing to sacrifice others to save their own necks.
Workaholic fund manager Seok-woo (Yoo Gong) is the kind of father who always seems to be on his phone at important family events. Divorced and single, he occasionally looks after his young daughter Soo-an (Su-an Kim) in the apartment he shares his mother, but pays such little attention to the girl that he buys her a Nintendo Wii for her birthday, forgetting that he got her the same present the previous year. What she really wants for her birthday is to see her mother in Busan, but Seok-woo is so busy at work that he is unable for find the time to accompany her on the 2 hour round-trip. After taking some advice from his mother, he eventually agrees. They arrive at the train station safe and sound, but it's clear that something isn't quite right. Police and ambulance sirens whizz by, people are running in the street, and the news reports show mass unrest and rioting across the country.
Before the train doors shut however, a sickly woman gets on board. She soon collapses and starts to convulse, only for a poor train attendant to tend to her and wound up bitten. It's a big train however, and Train to Busan starts to clearly establish the collection of characters on board. There's a tough husband and his pregnant wife, two elderly sisters, a young cheerleader, a rich and selfish corporate type, and an entire baseball team, who are handily packing many bats in their luggage. Panic soon sets in as the realisation of a zombie apocalypse dawns on the passengers, and with much of the country either in quarantine or overrun by the military trying to fight off the unstoppable hoard, its unclear just where and when they can stop. Seok-woo's intentions are to look out only himself and his daughter, and teaches the seemingly wiser Soon-an the same. But as the situation becomes increasingly dyer, it becomes clear that they are stronger together.
The atmosphere and tension are turned up to the max during some incredibly inventive set-pieces, which often make the most of the most mundane of locations. These are the running, screeching zombies of Danny Boyle's 28 Days Later, so cramped train carriages are quickly turned into narrow isles of death. As the passengers learn the zombies' weaknesses, such as their inability to work out a door handle or how they quickly forget about you once you're out of site, the darkness of long tunnels become their ally as they journey from A to B. Sang-ho Yeon is careful to keep the social commentary at the fore, highlighting how fear can turn the nicest of people into selfish, despicable monsters, and how important it is to fight out primal instincts in moments of terror. After a fast-paced first hour, the events become somewhat repetitive and the running time could do with some trimming, but it all pays off with a gripping climax. In a time of zombie overkill, Train to Busan still manages to feel fresh.
Based on the manga comic by Kazuo Koike, 1973's Lady Snowblood is a simplistic rape-revenge thriller, pitting one woman with a mastery of swordsmanship against a hoard of faceless and disposable foes standing in her way. Opening with snow falling on darkness, Toshiya Fujita's film is also incredibly beautiful, offering a variety of strikingly colourful images, more often than not spattered with blood red. Stills from the movie could be framed and hung on your wall, but the main joy to be had is with its narrative simplicity and thrilling swordplay. The sight of Meiko Kaji slicing down one baddie after the next combined with her thirst for revenge propelled Lady Snowblood to exploitation royalty.
The sequel came the very next year, and like most successes in which the hero achieves their goal and nicely wraps up the story, the only option going forward is to broaden the scope and give the protagonist a new mission. This approach is rarely successful, and Lady Snowblood: Love Song of Vengeance struggles to recapture the magic of its predecessor. With Snowblood a wanted woman, she is mercilessly pursued by the police until she eventually throws down her sword to prevent further bloodshed. Sentence to death, she is saved from the noose by Seishiro Kikui (Shin Kishida), the head of the Secret Police, and given the task of infiltrating anarchist Ransui (Juzo Itami) to locate a document that will convince the people to rise up against the government. When her allegiances change, the deadly assassin finds herself on the run again, and soon out for further revenge.
The fight choreography is once again startling, with buckets of blood spurting from the unlikeliest of places. If anything, it improves on the first and certainly delivers more of it, with an early beach massacre and a climactic battle on a row of steps being the standout set-pieces. It moves at a fast pace, and offers historical context in snippets of black-and-white news footage (although some, if not all, were made for the film) and narration. Yet this also means that we're hit with a rather convoluted plot involving many characters, each with their own personal turmoil and ambitions. This takes away the sense of personal fury of the first film, with Kaji given few lines and little to do other than fight when called upon. She does shine when given the chance however, and hardcore fans of the genre will no doubt lap the balletic carnage.
Horror maestro Mario Bava always had a unique talent for producing the most extraordinary films on the slimmest of budgets. He made Danger: Diabolik, one of his greatest works, for way less than the budget handed to him by super-producer Dino de Laurentis. Kill, Baby... Kill!, also known under the less enticing title of Curse of the Dead, is no different. With the budget provided by small-time Italian production company F.U.L. Films already microscopic, the movie was almost scrapped all together when the budget dried up just days into filming. However, Bava prevailed, and somehow managed to convince the cast and crew to work for next to nothing, and in some cases, for nothing at all. Using his skill for improvisation with camera and lighting, Kill, Baby... Kill! is rich in atmosphere, even offering the odd fright, and is now considered a masterpiece by some and one of Bava's finest achievements.
After a woman mysteriously flings herself onto a set of spikes in an abandoned church, Dr. Paul Eswai (Giacomo Rossi Stuart) is called to a remote Carpathian village to perform the autopsy. He is immediately met with hostility, as the highly superstitious villagers are used to the more primitive practice of burying the body without medical examination. Already investigating the case is grizzled detective Kruger (Piero Lulli), who warns Eswai of the villagers belief in a ghostly presence around the time that places a curse on a person who always turns up dead shortly after. When Kruger goes missing while paying a visit to the secretive Baroness Graps (Giovanna Galletti), the young daughter of an innkeeper sees the ghostly apparition of a young blonde girl and believes she will be next to take her own life. Questioning everything he sees and hears, Eswai turns to village sorceress Ruth (Fabienne Dali) to try and understand these medieval practices.
While I disagree that Kill, Baby... Kill! even comes close to being Bava's best film, this is without a doubt his greatest achievement. Working with very little, Bava somehow manages to conjure up an incredibly spooky, Gothic atmosphere, with beautifully decorated interiors and stunningly framed exteriors, complement with elegant camera movements. When the action moves away from the lushness of the sets and the story starts to emerge, long periods are spent with Eswai simply wandering from one place to the next. Rossi Stuart is hardly the most charismatic actor, although he certainly isn't helped by the questionable dubbing, and his romance with Monica (Erika Blanc), a native who returns to the village to claim her inheritance, proves to be as equally plodding. Still, while this is relatively routine, formulaic stuff in terms of narrative, Bava more than makes up for it with a sumptuous colour palette, and some of the most striking imagery to be found in horror.
The story concerns Jennifer (Gillian Hills), the 'beat girl' of the title, and her struggle to accept a new addition to the household. Her rich and rather liberal father Paul (Black Narcissus' David Farrar) dotes on his young, beautiful daughter, but remains concerned about her late night partying and dead-beat friends. Her behaviour takes a downturn when he brings home his new young and gorgeous French wife Nichole (Noelle Adam), who Jennifer takes an instant disliking to, as most children of divorce do. Nichole makes all the effort to bond with her new step-daughter, but Jennifer would rather be hanging out at the local jazz dive with her friends (including real-life musician and teen idol Adam Faith). After a chance encounter reveals Nichole's past life, Jennifer becomes intent on revealing the big secret to her work-obsessed father.
