FRIGHT NIGHT (1985)

1985, Tom Holland, 102 mins.

A teenager has to contend with a vampire moving in next door.

Although slightly burdened by period trappings such as the most tasteless nightclub in cinema history and a dire soft-rock soundtrack, Tom Holland’s vampire film is a lot of old-fashioned creepy fun which depends heavily on a superb performance from Chris Sarandon as the vampire who moves in next door to William Ragsdale’s annoying teenage hero. As the bloodsucker begins to cut a swathe through suburbia, the only solution turns out to be calling in movie vampire killer Peter Vincent, played with immense charm by Roddy McDowell. The film works so well because while it’s often very funny, it takes the monster seriously and creates a credible modern vampire myth. Tom Holland, who wrote the brilliantly ingenious Psycho 2, provides witty dialogue and plenty of nods to classic Gothic movies. Richard Edlund's special effects are skilfully achieved and incredibly imaginative throughout.

EVIL DEAD (2013)

2013, Refe Alvarez, 92 mins.

A group of teens have problems with the occult in a remote cabin. 

Now this is just rather sad. Sam Raimi, Bruce Campbell and Robert Tapert return to the scene of their first triumph and comprehensively screw it up. We’re used to appalling remakes of classic horror films of course but Evil Dead gets everything so comprehensively wrong that it should act as some kind of negative example. It contains endless bloodletting and lots of lengthy set-ups but no scares, no imagination and, most disastrously of all, no sense of humour. There’s an air of almost pious solemnity here which reminds one of the lesser religious epics of the 1950s. Add to this the most annoyingly dim set of characters this side of an Eighties slasher movie and an over-enthusiastic score reminiscent of The Omen and you have a disaster. Only a climactic dismemberment captures the EC comic book style of the original.

DR. NO

1962, Terence Young, 109 mins. 

James Bond investigates nefarious deeds in the Caribbean.

The first Bond movie is a brisk and enjoyable spy thriller with a star-making performance from Sean Connery as our favourite spy and iconic turns from Ursula Andress and Joseph Wiseman as the archetypal Bond Girl and Bond Villain. It’s noticeably more grounded in some kind of reality than later films in the series and it’s lacking several elements which would later become indispensable – notably the theme song and the pre-credits teaser. But it’s already looking like the beginning of a franchise thanks to Ken Adam’s extravagant designs, Ted Moore’s colour cinematography and the insolent wit of the dialogue. It’s really Connery’s show though and he’s irresistibly watchable, whether trading bon mots with Miss Moneypenny, growling seductively at Sylvia Trench or performing unusually believable tradecraft in his Jamaican apartment. Not forgetting the wonderful James Bond theme played by John Barry.  

THE LOVELY BONES

2009, Peter Jackson, 135 mins.

A young girl is murdered and tells her story from the afterlife.

Peter Jackson’s best film since Heavenly Creatures, this is an adaptation of Alice Sebold’s novel which is distinctive for quite sensational visuals from cinematographer Andrew Lesnie and an astonishing performance from Stanley Tucci as the banal but deviant neighbour who murders the fourteen year old narrator of the film, played with immense confidence by young Saoirse Ronan. Tucci captures a sense of evil which is genuinely disturbing and allows Jackson to be relatively discreet in the portrayal of the murder. In fact, the film underplays both the potential for both horror and sentimentality, and the result is something very unusual and distinctive. A slight misstep is Susan Sarandon’s quirky performance as the lush of a grandmother but this is compensated for by the fine, understated work by  Mark Wahlberg and Rachel Weisz as Ronan’s parents trying to cope with grief. 

ROLLERCOASTER

1977, James Goldstone, 117 mins.

American amusement parks are stalked by a maniac.

Connoisseurs of the art of screen acting sometime have to look in the most unusual places – Rollercoaster for example. It’s a ho-hum suspense movie which is never anything other than predictable and is shot in a flat TV movie style which makes it visually indistinguishable from the average cop show of the 1970s. The supporting performances by the likes of Richard Widmark and Henry Fonda are strictly for the money and Timothy Bottoms is peculiarly mannered as the bad guy who likes to blow up fairground rides. But it’s worth it all for George Segal’s quite sensational performance in the lead. It’s not a great part and the dialogue is generally mediocre but he adds grace notes and gives the character so much wit and style that he stands out as a credible, complicated person in the midst of banality. 

TRANCE

2013, Danny Boyle, 101 mins.

An auctioneer becomes involved with an art robbery. 

The problem with Trance is that it twists about so much that it eventually coils its way up its own rectum. It’s a clever enough film which uses hypnosis with a lot more intelligence than you might expect, although it does depend on the idea that the central character, played by James McAvoy whose performance which is unfortunately reminiscent of Ewan McGregor at his most unappealing, is the most suggestible hypnotic subject in the history of the discipline. The plot, in which he gets involved with sexy therapist Rosario Dawson at the behest of gangster Vincent Cassel, hangs together  well until the last half hour when a string of daft revelations pile up and characters behave in ways which are wildly contrary to the way they have been developed. Danny Boyle’s stylish direction just about keeps it watchable. 

VILLAIN

1971, Michael Tuchner, 94 mins. 

A mother-fixated gangster is involved in a disastrous robbery. 

Although ostensibly a gangster movie, Villain is actually most interesting as a state of the nation film which portrays Britain in the early seventies as a country going rapidly down the drain. Nothing works properly, the system is corrupt, sex is degrading and you can’t even pull off a decent payroll robbery because the unions are going out on strike. Richard Burton is pretty good as Vic Dakin, the villain of the title - clearly based on a combination of Reggie Kray and Cagney in White Heat – and Nigel Davenport is splendid as his nemesis, the only honest copper in the Met. The location filming is fantastic, especially a botched heist on a Bracknell factory, and the cast is packed with familiar faces, ranging from  Donald Sinden to James Cossins. Not quite on a par with Get Carter but close.

DRACULA

1958, Terence Fisher, 82 mins.

An evil vampire directs his attentions to a bourgeois family.

Bringing colour and sex to the vampire movie, Terence Fisher’s Dracula is a riveting horror film directed with immense economy and acted with visceral ferocity by the iconic, although surprisingly rarely used by Hammer, team of Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee. Jimmy Sangster’s screenplay streamlines Bram Stoker’s novel - for budgetary reasons – but keeps the atmosphere and much of the horror while focusing on the sexual subtext which, according to Christopher Frayling, went largely unnoticed until this screen version. Numerous memorable images – none more so than Lee’s Count appearing in a doorway like a wild animal, fangs dripping with blood – and technical credits which typify the very best of Hammer; Jack Asher’s rich colour photography; James Needs’ pacy editing; Bernard Robinson’s lush production design; and Fisher’s direction which never puts a foot wrong in an incredibly fast-paced eighty two minutes. 

SITTING TARGET

1972, Douglas Hickox, 92 mins.

A convict escapes to get revenge on his unfaithful wife.

Sitting Target is a violent, grim, and compelling thriller which offers a sensational performance from Oliver Reed as an escaped convict obsessed with getting revenge on his cheating wife. Reed was always a powerful actor but here he turns the intensity up to eleven and keeps you compelled even while you’re appalled at his brutality. He’s well supported by Ian McShane as his more cheerful accomplice and there are effective cameo turns from a typically colourful Freddie Jones, Frank Finlay, and Edward Woodward as the copper on the case. The London locations are a delight and there’s one particularly good chase through the sheets and knickers of some tower block washing lines. It’s dated in some respects, particularly a lot of casual misogyny which sees the women uniformally treated like dirt. But it’s constantly riveting with an effective plot twist. 

JEREMIAH JOHNSON

1972, Sydney Pollack, 116 mins.

A mountain man becomes a legendary Indian fighter.

Robert Redford’s iconic presence dominates Sydney Pollack’s Jeremiah Johnson, a mountain-man Western, and adds immeasurably to its success. Johnson is a man of few words and only an actor with Redford’s charisma could carry off this decidedly oblique character.  The narrative, told against the backdrop of epic vistas, proceeds largely through encounters with Indians and various eccentrics, including the great Will Geer as an old-timer. John Milius wrote the screenplay for the film and although it was revised, it still contains numerous Milius touches – notably the nature of myth and the primal need for man to prove himself against nature. The attitude to the Indians is ambiguous and this was apparently deliberate on the part of the filmmakers. Sometimes the film becomes sentimental, particularly in the scenes with the squaw wife, but on the whole it’s compelling, entertaining and memorable.

HITCHCOCK

2012, Sacha Gervasi, 98 mins.

An engaging but fanciful account of a year in the life of the Hitchcocks

Based on Stephen Rebello’s book about the making of Psycho, Sacha Gervasi’s Hitchcock is most successful as a portrait of a marriage between two creative individuals, one of whom is renowned as a genius while the other is, mostly, content to stay in the background. Alma and Alfred Hitchcock were devoted to each other and the film plays around dangerously with fact in suggesting that there might have been rifts in the relationship, particularly as regards the possibility of Alma nearly having an affair because s she feels neglected. But Anthony Hopkins and Helen Mirren are delicious with Hopkins, as in Nixon, capturing Hitch’s essence rather than doing a straight impersonation. The stuff about making Psycho is fun, if not always particularly accurate, and the best scenes involve Hitch’s sly ability to dance nimbly round the studio and the censor..

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.

SINGIN' IN THE RAIN

1952, Gene Kelly, Stanley Donen, 103 mins.

The coming of sound in words and music.

Often cited as the greatest of all Hollywood musical comedies, Singin’ in the Rain is particularly notable as a historical reconstruction of the early days of sound cinema and the crisis it brought about in the industry. Many of the funniest set-pieces are based on the various problems of recording sound, the biggest joke of all being that the gorgeous leading lady of the silents, deliciously played by Jean Hagen, has a voice that could strip paint at fifty yards. So the comedy works a treat but what most people remember is the music and dancing, both of which are top-notch. Gene Kelly is at his most creative and least pretentious, particularly in the iconic title number and the Broadway Melody  ballet, and Debbie Reynolds is simply radiant. The sensational Technicolor photography, courtesy of Harold Rossen, is to die for. 

SPIRITS OF THE DEAD (HISTOIRES EXTRAORDINAIRES)

1968, Roger Vadim, Louis Malle, Frederico Fellini, 121 mins.

Three Poe stories by three directors.

Spirits of the Dead was made towards the end of the 1960s vogue for multi-part films from voguish directors. It collects together three Edgar Allen Poe stories with varying degrees of success. Roger Vadim turns Metzergerstein , Poe’s first published story, into a highly amusing riot of Freudian symbolism featuring the leather clad Fonda siblings and a big black stallion. Louis Malle demonstrates a Sadean bent in William Wilson as Alain Delon, plagued by his seemingly omnipresent and omniscient double, subjects Brigitte Bardot to a whipping which is not in the original story. Finally, and most satisfyingly, Fellini offers us Toby Dammit, a funny and deeply disturbing fantasia set in 1960s Rome during which an alcoholic Shakesperean actor, memorably played by Terence Stamp, makes a decidedly unwise wager with the Devil – the patter personified as an unforgettably creepy little girl. 

COUP DE GRACE

1976, Volker Schlondorff, 97 mins.

A story of obsessive love set in the Baltic during 1919.

Few readers will be familiar with this German film but it deserves your attention as a tremendously powerful piece of cinema. Set in 1919 during the fag-end of the Russian Civil War, it portrays a story of obsessive love set against a land in turmoil. Shot in steely monochrome by Igor Luther and designed with impressive authenticity by Jurgen Kiebach, it is distinguished by a combination of radical politics with a strong narrative drive. Margarethe von Trotte is astonishing as Sophie, an aristocrat whose unrequited love for an officer leads inexorably to her own willed destruction as she plays sexual games and, when these fail to satisfy her, becomes a Bolshevik revolutionary.  The script and direction are unerring in their psychological accuracy, and the final scene – a tracking shot which sums-up the tragic themes of the film – is sublime.

The best way to get hold of this is on Criterion’s excellent DVD.

ON HER MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE

1969, Peter Hunt, 142 mins.

The first Bond movie without Sean Connery sees Bond battle Blofeld in Switzerland.

My favourite Bond movie and one of the best films of the Sixties. It’s got just about everything; wit, charm, astonishingly visceral action, a pounding John Barry score, gorgeous location photography, and classic villains in the shape of Ilse Steppat’s Irma Bunt and Telly Savalas’s definitive Ernst Stavro Blofeld. Admittedly, it’s also got George Lazenby but, personally, I like him – he does very well in the action scenes and has genuine presence, while his engagement with proceedings is a vast improvement on Sean Connery’s efforts in his later Bond movies. He has a lot to carry too – a more emotional storyline than usual which allows the role of the Bond girl, in the shape of Diana Rigg, to be fully developed; and an ending which hits you like a hard blow to the gut even when you know it’s coming.