Dirty Harry (1971)

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You’ve got to ask yourself a question.  ‘Do I feel lucky?’ Well, do ya, punk? When a serial killer calling himself Scorpio menaces women in San Francisco cop ‘Dirty’ Harry Callahan (Clint Eastwood) is assigned to track him down. He’s involved in a cat and mouse chase that sees him racing all over the city in pursuit even dragging a school bus with children into the fray and bringing him into disrepute by questioning suspects’ Escobedo and Miranda rights. This starts by honouring the institution of policing and ends very firmly on a note of critique – with a move by Harry that is replicated by Keanu Reeves in Point Break twenty years later (albeit Harry gets his man). This starts in such an astonishing fashion, with the camera at the killer’s shoulder when he takes aim with a sniper rifle at a woman swimming in a rooftop pool:  it sutures you directly into his point of view and makes you question everything you see. There is an undertow of satire (and a string of murders) that secures your sympathy for Harry’s unorthodox approach. The story by Harry Julian Fink and R. M. Fink was vaguely based on the Zodiac killer terrorising young women at the time (and later the subject of another brilliant film) and was rewritten by John Milius and Dean Riesner (and Terrence Malick did an early draft), and the end result is tight as a bullet casing. Milius said it’s obvious which parts of the screenplay were his – because for him Harry is just like the killer but with a police badge. It’s directed in such a muscular way by Don Siegel (who had just made The Beguiled with Eastwood) and characterised so indelibly by Eastwood there is only one word to encapsulate it – iconic. Much imitated (even with four sequels of its own) but never equalled, with a moody empathetic score by Lalo Schifrin. What’s weird is that the killer was played by unknown actor and pacifist Andy Robinson – who replaced war hero Audie Murphy following the star’s death in a plane crash before he signed on the dotted line.

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Blue Murder at St Trinians (1957)

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A very deftly plotted entry in the Launder and Gilliat series adapted from Ronald Searle’s riotous school stories, this sees Amelia Fritton (Alastair Sim) in prison and with the school under military and police control, the girls contrive to win a bus trip to Europe and the father (Lionel Jeffries) of one of them returns in Ms Fritton’s place when he needs to hide out following a heist at Hatton Garden. With Terry-Thomas romancing Joyce Grenfell, George Cole doing his inimitable best as ‘Flash’ Harry running a marriage agency to get the sixth formers hitched, it’s all systems go for the anarchic crew. Bedlam, in  other words. Great fun.

Bachelor Party (1984)

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Anyone expecting the 1957 kitchen sink realism Paddy Chayefsky mini-epic starring Don Murray is in for a surprise. This is the Eighties ‘remake’ (not really) – with a time capsule quotient of nudity, raunch, lewdness, big shoulders, bigger hair and a lot of pastels. Tom Hanks is the charming bus driver dating the gorgeous shop assistant Tawny Kitaen (remember the Whitesnake videos?!) who happens to be the daughter of a disapproving millionaire who has a much better catch in mind. This is of course all about the suspension of disbelief. I for one have never been driven to school by Hanks. Naturally the guys want a big party before Tom makes the worst mistake of his life and everything but the kitchen realist sink is thrown at making it happen and persuading him to be unfaithful – but the hookers wind up at the girls’ and perform sex acts in front of her mother. Then they go see male strippers and Mom grabs a weiner. As it were. Dad shows up at the guys’ gathering and winds up having his ass whupped by whores and being photographed for posterity and the love rival takes potshots with a bow and arrow in revenge for having his Porsche souped up. There’s a gag with a donkey on cocaine but the best of all is a funny scene at a 3D movie. It’s the little things. Hanks’ winning ways save the day, in more ways than one. And the best thing? Now I never have to watch it again! From the world of Neal Israel.

The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956)

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Hitchcock returned to the scene of his first international success, radically altered it, and put two of the industry’s biggest stars at its centre, doctor James Stewart (the Everyman of American cinema) and singer Doris Day, who gets to trill Que Sera, Sera to their young son, Christopher Olsen, who will be kidnapped. The VistaVision Technicolor action is transferred from Switzerland to Morocco (where Day was shocked by the state of animal health) and the juxtaposition with the film’s later scenes in London is well achieved. Uniquely among the master’s films this is almost entirely predicated on the notion of pure suspense, augmented by Bernard Herrmann’s innovative scoring and concluding of course in a famous concert sequence. Featuring those two chaps Ambrose Chappell and Albert Hall, this was adapted from the original (Charles Bennett and DB Wyndham Lewis) by Hitch’s regular Fifties collaborator John Michael Hayes, with an uncredited assist from Angus MacPhail, the man who had dreamed up the term MacGuffin for the meaningless Hitchcockian plot lure. Beautifully shot by Robert Burks and edited by George Tomasini, there is a nice opportunity to watch French actor Daniel Gelin at work – he was the father of the late Maria Schneider, whom he never acknowledged. And the improvised scene with the food is great!

Hot Enough for June (1964)

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Aka Agent 8 3/4.Dirk Bogarde is a louche unpublished London writer who happens to speak Czech so he’s whipped off the dole queue by British Intelligence and winds up hapless in Prague, trying to bring back a coded message he doesn’t understand, not even realising he’s been hired as a spy. This breezy spoof was one of many films riding on the coat-tails of the James Bond phenomenon and the versatile Bogarde is perfect in a role originally intended for Laurence Harvey, in this colourful mix of homage, pastiche, satire and romance, with buckets of tension as he eventually makes a connection in the Gents’ at a glass factory and makes out with the gorgeous Sylvia Koscina (making her English-language debut) who conceals her role for the secret police. There’s great byplay between spymaster Robert Morley and his opposite number, Leo McKern, and some wonderful dressing up as Bogarde tries to get back to London in one piece. Great location photography (in Padua, since the Cold War was ongoing!) by Ernest Steward distinguishes this attractive time piece. Adapted from Lionel Davidson’s The Night of Wenceslas by Lukas Heller. Directed by Ralph Thomas and produced by Betty Box, this was one of the later of their thirty-plus collaborations.

A Street Cat Named Bob (2016)

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A homeless man getting himself off drugs is befriended by a ginger cat. Great premise for a movie?! But it’s all true, as we know from newspaper stories a few years back, and the eponymous memoir by James Bowen (and his charming friend Bob) in this London-set tale starring Luke Treadaway as the street busker and Bob … as himself! Believe it or not, the cat is just amazing. And I say that as one who spends her life herding them, pointlessly. Mine refuse to wear Christmas scarves or leads and they certainly don’t earn me any money or agree to travel. Treadaway keeps his hair nice and stringy to remind us of his backstory as an emotionally fragile young man (how old is LT?!) whose family breakup when he was 11 has caused his current situation. Bob literally saves his life. There’s a nice romance with kooky Ruta Gedmintas, Anthony Head finally resurfaces from Buffy as his errant and remarried dad and Joanne Froggatt is wearing contemporary clothes as a drugs therapist which takes a bit of getting used to. Treadaway convinces as a musician on a methadone programme but then we know from Brothers of the Head (with his twin Harry) that it’s in his manor. Given the subject matter, and the real-life turnaround by Bowen – his story was turned into a ghostwritten book, this engaging comedy drama thankfully has a happy ending, all dramatised here. (Bowen makes a cameo appearance at the bookstore signing.) Whew. But what about Bob?!!!!! An award-winning feline performance! Between this and Nine Lives I cannot recall a better cinematic year for cats. Adapted by Tim John and Maria Nation (watch out for her name on a building….) and directed by Roger Spottiswoode.

Our Brand is Crisis (2015)

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Taking a comical look at the US’s interfering with the electoral process in South America is a big leap from pure comedy into cutting edge satire:  not something for which either screenwriter Peter Straughan or director David Gordon Green are known. This version of a 2002 election in Bolivia which saw James Carville’s company deployed to get a problematic President Pedro Gallo (Joaquim de Almeida) re-elected is somewhat botched both in concept and execution. Sandra Bullock is the anchor of this mismanaged screenplay as the alcoholic depressive retired consultant drafted in to help defeat Victor Rivera, who’s being advised by her arch-rival, Billy Bob Thornton. They have history. It’s not pleasant. She suffers brutal altitude sickness and believes the candidate is hopeless until she pulls out her Machiavelli handbook and gets to work. There’s some fun – physical and verbal – but it’s not really sharp enough to score points. It substitutes a soft centre for what should have been scathing political commentary. And the cinematography is horrible.

The Graduate (1967)

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It was Mike Nichols’ second film and his second adaptation, this time with Calder Willingham and Buck Henry translating Charles Webb’s brilliant satirical short novel. Willingham did the first draft, which Nichols discarded in favour of a rewrite by Henry. The Writers Guild determined the shared credit. And yet if you read the novel you can see that it’s a pretty straight lift and most of the film’s acclaimed dialogue is right there! Nichols had learned all he knew about making movies from watching A Place in the Sun one hundred and fifty times or more plus three days of tuition in lenses from Haskell Wexler on the set of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?  Billy Wilder gifted him with his supervising editor to put this together but he quit in high dudgeon because Nichols didn’t follow his theoretical scheme – he couldn’t because he simply didn’t understand it. He needed to edit according to where he felt the camera should be. His brother had sent him a copy of an LP by a duo called Simon and Garfunkel and he played it each day in his apartment before he went to the shoot then he had a lightbulb moment and Sounds of Silence became the movie’s soundtrack after he used it to pace the editing, but it needed a new song about Mrs Robinson. The performers huddled in back of the studio for a few minutes and came back and performed their famous paean – it transpired that Simon had been working on something called ‘Mrs Roosevelt’ and they just changed the words. Dustin Hoffman is panic incarnate, Anne Bancroft’s role was offered to Doris Day but she turned it down and Katharine Ross is the lovely Elaine (sigh!). Everything Nichols had learned from George Stevens is on the screen:  the framing, the size of the shots, timing, placement, staging, the immaculately sustained tone, the perfectly judged performances that seem to radiate ordinariness and yet are precisely its opposite, these are all here in just the right measure in the story of returning college grad Benjamin Braddock and his affair with the mother of the girl he thinks he loves. This is so brilliant it simply has to be seen, again and again.

The Planter’s Wife (1952)

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Aka Outpost in Malaya. Colonial pictures can present problems nowadays for the kind of people who wouldn’t dream of exiting their own parish for a pint of milk. But if you know anyone who settled anywhere more than a day’s travel away, you’ll know it’s never easy and it’s often done for reasons that are simply not relevant these days:  duty, opportunity, adventure, a desire for the exotic. Not a gap year, more a life choice. This was originally going to be called White Blood (a reference to liquid rubber) but that title was rejected by the Colonial Office (it was a thing – until 1966) on the basis that it could incite racial problems. It’s not often we see one of these stories set in the Malay peninsula and this is set in the Emergency that started in 1948 between the Commonwealth forces and the terrorist wing of the local Communist Party. Claudette Colbert and Jack Hawkins are under pressure with the local bandits threatening their livelihood – and lives – as rubber planters. Parents to a small boy, Mike (Peter Asher of Peter & Gordon fame), it’s time for him to go back to England to boarding school and Colbert thinks she’ll go with him and leave her husband for good. A local policeman (Anthony Steel) urges her not to bring Hawkins with her or her marriage will really be dead in the water. They give a sympathetic Malay a lift to town and he’s murdered after the Brits arm him;  then the plantation comes under sustained attack, Colbert uses a gun and the tension is non-stop until a lot of people are killed as the family are under siege. A neighbour/rival reluctantly calls for help but it takes a long time to come … A surprisingly violent and engrossing outing with some very exciting scenes, one of the best involving a cobra and Mr Mangles, Mike’s mongoose;  and Colbert using a Bren gun. (A sight I never thought I’d see. She was delighted to get the opportunity, and allegedly became very useful with small arms.) Based on the novel by Sidney Charles George which was adapted by Guy Elmes and Peter Proud and directed by Ken Annakin. It’s well edited by Alfred Roome and the cinematography by Geoffrey Unsworth camouflages the fact that it was most of it was made at Pinewood with a second unit shooting in Malaya, Malacca, Singapore and Ceylon. Bill Travers and Don Sharp, who would become a noted writer and director, have uncredited roles as soldiers.

 

Piccadilly (1929)

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Has there ever been a better-looking London film? Not in black and white. From the titles on the sides of buses and on advertising hoarding and in neon lighting, to the exotic costumes enhancing the performances by kitchen maid turned star Shosho (Anna May Wong) in the titular nightclub, this tale of infidelity, deception, jealousy, murder, sex, race and class remains a thrilling parade. Wong is stunning. Directed by German great EA Dupont from a screenplay by Arnold Bennett, I’ve written about it here:  www.offscreen.com/view/peccadillo-piccadilly.