TRADING PLACES

1983, John Landis, 117 mins.

A film about life-swapping.

John Landis’s comedy is an interesting example of how a film can change personality during its running time. The first two-thirds is an elegantly structured satirical comedy which charts the parallel rise and fall of Eddie Murphy and Dan Aykroyd. Then, during the final forty minutes, it changes into a screwball farce complete with disguises, silly costumes and a gorilla. Most people frown upon this development but I find it thoroughly satisfying, and its firmly in the tradition of the 1930s comedies which obviously served as the model for Timothy Harris and Herschel Weingrod’s script. The two stars are marvellous – this is before Murphy’s self-indulgence got the better of him – and there's great backup from Jamie Lee Curtis, Denholm Elliott, Ralph Bellamy and Don Ameche. One thing though – it’s one of the most badly photographed studio films I’ve ever seen.

MILLER'S CROSSING

1990, Joel and Ethan Coen, 115 mins.

A complex tale of love and betrayal among gangsters.

The peculiar talents of the Coen brothers were in evidence right from the start in Blood Simple but they were refined to perfection in Miller’s Crossing. It’s a period gangster movie which crackles with their characteristic style of dialogue   – slightly over-literary, self-conscious, unfailingly witty – and looks sensational thanks to Barry Sonnenfeld’s autumnal, achingly nostalgic cinematography. The plot twists and turns in a most satisfying manner but what makes this distinctive is that it’s not merely clever, it has a genuine emotional pull captured beautifully by Carter Burwell’s rich orchestral score. Great set-pieces abound but the one you’ll remember involves Albert Finney, a machine gun and a recording of “Danny Boy”. Gabriel Byrne and Marcia Gay Harden are memorable leads but the fun is had by the supporting talents of Finney, Jon Polito, J. E. Freeman and a weaselly John Turturro.

THE LIVING DEAD AT THE MANCHESTER MORGUE

1974, Jorge Grau, 93 mins.

Zombies bring chaos to the North of England.

A smashingly effective zombie movie which is distinguished not only by an intelligent screenplay and strong characterisations but also by atmospheric location filming in Manchester, the Peak District and the Lake District – although the Manchester Morgue sadly doesn’t make an appearance. It’s slower paced that some genre films and takes more time to establish characters which gives strong opportunities for a good cast amongst which Arthur Kennedy really shines as an extremely right-wing policeman less concerned with the living dead than the long-haired hero who keeps getting in  the way. Director Grau’s insistence on an ecological subtext is, at the very least, distinctive with much emphasis on various kinds of pollution. The horror takes a while to get going but once the zombies are on the loose, Gianetto De Rossi’s make-up effects come into their own to utterly stunning effect.

TASTE THE BLOOD OF DRACULA

1969, Peter Sasdy, 91 mins.

Dracula is reborn in Victorian London.

One of Hammer’s most interesting films; less a Dracula movie than a study of Victorian repression and hypocrisy which has the Count rather awkwardly shoe-horned in.  The first half is quite marvellous as we follow the descent of three thrill-seeking Victorians into blood-drinking Satanism, instigated by rather arch acolyte Ralph Bates whom they subsequently beat to death in an abandoned church. The performances of Geoffrey Keen, Peter Sallis, and John Carson are excellent and Peter Sasdy creates a memorable atmosphere of decadence. Unfortunately, the second half drifts rapidly into incoherence as Christopher Lee turns up, looking bored, and is given virtually nothing to do while the children of the thrill-seekers kill their fathers. The baffling climax, during which Dracula is destroyed after having a funny turn as the church is mysteriously re-consecrated, is an unworthy end to an interesting film.

SCROOGE

1970, Ronald Neame, 114 mins.

A musical version of the Dickens classic.

This attempt to cash-in on the success  of Oliver isn’t in the same league, largely because Leslie Bricusse isn’t Lionel Bart and Ronald Neame isn’t Carol Reed. However, the material is just about impossible to spoil and the film, while wildly inconsistent and boasting a mediocre song score, has numerous virtues. The chief one is Albert Finney whose performance as Scrooge is serious and thoughtful, which is essential if the material is going to work and make his eventual transformation dramatically satisfying. There’s a strong supporting cast amongst which Edith Evans, Kenneth More and Alec Guinness stand out – the latter’s camp take on the role is particularly good value in the added scenes in hell towards the end – and the best musical number features Anton Rogers making the most of “Thank You Very Much” as he dances on Scrooge’s coffin.