Venus (2006)

I haven't been very good with my film watching of late but I did find time for Roger Michell's 'Venus', which revitalised the career of Peter O'Toole as a roguish aged actor, whilst simultaneously discovering Jodie Whittaker, who gives a fine performance of what is a fairly confusing character.

The basic story is that of two old actors, Maurice and Ian, who once had success but now struggle to find any parts beyond corpses. Ian optimistically agrees to accomodate his neice's daughter, Jessie, as a nurse, but is shocked to discover her lack of interest or sympathy. On the other hand, this intrigues Maurice, who enjoys the challenge of seducing a woman some sixty years younger than himself. Amazingly, Jessie reciprocates his interest, taking advantage of his desire for her own benefits whilst also sharing a unique friendship with him.

There are moments of brilliant comedy, particularly between O'Toole and Leslie Phillips as Maurice and Ian respectively, as they argue and complain about their old age, whilst tenderly caring for one another. Juxtaposed with this are the shocking scenes of lust and exploitation between Maurice and Jessie, culminating in physicality and overt sexual exposure. Whilst the scenes between the old friends are touching and emotionally powerful, the scenes with the younger girl are quite disturbing and confusing. We gradually learn why Jessie needs the attention of Maurice, and hence why she allows his perversions, but it's never really explained why she is so sympathetic towards him. The audience is able to feel sympathy for a man who is a shadow of what he formerly was, but Jessie does not see this side of him. Instead he presents himself as an amiable sexual predator, able to explicitly pronounce his intentions because he is so harmless as an old man. Jessie always seems to retain control and is never too uncomfortable, even reaching out to Maurice through her sexuality, but it's an uncomfortable relationship that seems to hold much more benfits for the male participant whilst simply exposing the female for scant reward.

The performances are all great (even if the dialogue is occasionally a little trite) including peripheral performances from Vanessa Redgrave and Richard Griffiths, but the film somehow undermines them with an inappropriate atmosphere. The soundtrack is completely unsuited, featuring pop songs from Corinne Bailey Rae which fail to provide a connection to either Maurice, Jessie or the narrative. The feature very uncomfortably, particularly over the final credits where it seems to suggest a completely different mood to the story we have just experienced. Elsewhere, the film supports the elderly status of its characters, rather than allowing them to appear as characters still with a youthful vitality at heart, despite their physical failings.

Sometimes the humour is too easy, simply placing copious swearwords in the mouths of the elderly. I didn't feel there was much respect in the film for either those older characters, or the females. Some of the dialogue suggests a gross misunderstanding or women: "A naked woman is the most beautiful thing a man will ever see." "What's the most beautiful thing a woman will ever see, do you know?" "Her first child." I'm sure there are many women who would protest against being defined either by their sexual physicality or potential as mothers - which is what the sexually permissive nurse, Jessie, is - but then this is a film written and directed and seen through the eyes of men.

It's a slippery slope to try and sympathetically portray the relationship between an old man and a young girl and it begins badly. Peter O'Toole can never seem less than perverted, especially when his success means he is more than an unfortunate pensioner making a fool of himself. Jessie's character is disinterested and uncultured; why would she be interested in going to the theatre and art galleries with Maurice? It's far more interesting when we begin to understand how she is exploiting him, along with Maurice's own realisation. But he can't resist her and there's always a sense that he is benefiting from her abuse, which borders on prostitution. I was generally left feeling a bit unsure of who we're supposed to feel sorry for, and a bit worried by the politics of the film.

I think, due to the brilliant performances and chemistry of the elderly friends, this could have been a film focusing exclusively on the difficulties of being old and no longer as powerful and dynamic as you once were. The dialogue is generally better in these scenes, which have a lively improvised feel to them, and they are more engaging for the audience. A film like that would still have an appeal to a wide audience, rather than the unnessecary discomfort of watching a teenager inserting her finger into her vagina before a man almost five times her age tries to suck it, but Roger Michell has preferred psychological confusion in his previous films, such as the poor 'Enduring Love' and the brilliant 'The Mother', also written by 'Venus' scribe, Hanif Kureishi. 'Venus' is worth seeing for the performances, but watch it with an open mind and you might be able to buy into its story.

Snuff-Movie (2005)

There seems to be such a large amount of directors out there who feel that by combining gruesome visual effects, blood, sex, nudity, and a little bit of voyeurism they can create something both horrifically entertaining and profoundly meaningful. Bernard Rose is the latest of many to get this wrong.

The confusing narrative begins in Victorian times, when a doctor arrives to treat a pregnant woman but finds she is dead and performs a caesarean instead. This operation is very gruesome, as is the midwife with a poker through her head for no apparent reason at all. The woman is then placed ikn a coffin in the family vault, only to come back to life and come after her baby. It soon turns out this is just a film, by shock director Boris Arkadin (Jeroen Krabbe), which he is watching with his wife (Lisa Enos) and some friends. Suddenly Arkadin is called away to the editing room and upon his departure a group of bizarre militant killers arrive and cause carnage, whilst filming themselves, cutting out Arkadin's pregnant wife's baby from inside her.

We cut again to Wendy (Lisa Enos again) with her boyfriend, watching a documentary about Arkadin. Wendy is an actress and is cast in Arkadin's first film in years, telling the story of that fateful night. She attends a special audition at his house along with some other actors, and gradually the story acts itself out without anyone knowing if it's real or not, but with the whole thing being filmed by omnipotent cameras.

The film is clearly trying to be clever and make a point about the darkly voyeuristic nature of sex and violence in horror films. The lines between fiction and fact are constantly being manipulated and we never really know where we stand. Along the way there are several pretty gruesome moments, some sex and nudity and a lot of trite dialogue and apparent meaningfulness. The fact that Rose is making a film to parody badly made horror films ensure that his own film ends up just as bad as them, and by the end manages to surpass them in its absurdity. Some attempts at repsectability are made, such as Nick Broomfield's appearance as himself making a documentary about Arkadin, but looking very uncomfortable and embarassed (he and Rose both studied at the National Film and Television School).

The film has a very cheap look to it, shot on video, probably partly because most of the action is caught on videos around the house, but also mostly because of a lack of money. The acting is poor, inexplicably featuring several American actors in a British set film, and boasting a Playboy bunny in its ranks, all working with bad dialogue. There is no visual flair making interesting use of the video and everything about the film suggests amateurishness. The meaning behind the film is lost in the sensationalsim of blood and nudity and even this isn't enough to maintain any interest. The story isn't even particularly original - the murder of the friends at the beginning is an exact copy of the murder of Sharon Tate and friends by members of the Manson family, and several times have we seen attempts at clever comments being made about voyeurism, exploitation and immorality in the media, only for the vehicle for those comments to become totally hypocritical and becoming voyeuristic, exploitative and immoral itself. It's simply pretentious and absurd.

Absolutely do not bother with this film, it's simply a waste of your time, with no redeeming factors. Rose received a fair bit of critical acclaim for his 'Ivansxtc', which is worth seeing but isn't anything special. He's also known for 'Paperhouse' and 'Candyman', neither of which I've seen, but I can't say I'm especially keen to.

My Blueberry Nights (2007)

This is easily one of the most disppointing films I have ever seen. Wong Kar-Wai ranks amongst my favourite directors for his films in the past, particularly 'Happy Together' and 'In The Mood For Love', and his first English language film should have been quite an exciting prospect, particularly considering the impressive cast he assembled. Unfortunately, this film is all style and no substance, incredibly contrived, cliched and corny.

The bare story begins in NewYork with Elizabeth (Norah Jones), who at the film's opening has just discovered her boyfriend has left her for someone else. She befriends Jeremy (Jude Law) in a nearby cafe and they become close, meeting each night to talk and eat blueberry pie. Suddenly she leaves, deciding to travel America. We jump to Memphis where she is working two jobs in a cafe and bar. She meets a harmless drunk, a cop (David Strathairn), whose life has been destroyed by his wayward wife (Rachel Weisz). After some rather harrowing scenes here, the action jumps to Nevada, where Elizabeth now works in a casino where she meets a gambler (Natalie Portman), with whom she strikes an alliance and travels to Las Vegas with. Finally she arrives back in New York, apparently changed, with Jeremy.

It's hard to know where to start when listing the problems with this film. Like Wim Wenders, Wong Kar-Wai seems to have become enthralled by the prospect of shooting in America and has lost touch with any of the themes and characters with whom he would normally be associated, instead focusing on arresting images and tales of Americana. The dialogue is literally the worst I have ever encountered in a mainstream film. The characters speak entirely in metaphors, dripping with symbolism and apparent depth. For example, a jar of keys left by customers in Jeremy's cafe is constantly referred to as having the power to open or close doors forever and this point is laboured upon repeatedly. An exchange between Jeremy and his estranged girlfriend (Chan Marshall) goes back and forth about how throwing away the keys would "lock those doors forever" but how "even when you open those doors you might not find the person you were looking for".

No one in reality talks like this and the lack of subtlety regarding the blueberry pie; which nobody wants to eat, just as nobody wants Elizabeth; is a further example of dialogue and metaphors that are too apparent for real life. The acting deosn't help, or isn't helped by, the poor dialogue. Jude Law is utterly terrible and wooden. Rachel Weisz looks stunning, making a cheesy slow-motion entrance, but is hysterical in almost all her scenes but one, where I almost drifted off. David Strathairn is on auto-pilot. Natalie Portman is almost alright, but doesn't really engage with the character. It almost seems Kar-Wai chose the actors he wanted to work with without any consideration of whether they were suitable for the parts or not. The only actors who escape with any dignity are Norah Jones and Chan Marshall, simply because they're not actors but singers, and so impress simply with their ability to hold their won.

The characterisation is perhaps particularly poor. We are supposed to identify most with Elizabeth but we are thrown into her world without any contextualisation. We have no history and know nothing about who she is, only that she's been dumped and seems pretty upset about it. When she leaves to travel, we have no more sense of who she is. She is just as enthralled by these new characters in her life as Kar-Wai is by America. She observes as other lives are played out, but we only get snapshots of these people too, living in isolation from anything else. This constant shift from one character to another leaves no time for any indetification. When Elizabeth returns to New York apparently a different person we can't know for sure if it's tue because we have no idea what she was like before or during the journey. The only progression we see is how her name changes from Lizzie to Betty to Beth - which doesn't tell us much about the actual change at all.

This isn't helped by the lack of establishing shots, which have been removed entirely in favour of constantly moving close-ups. Despite all the scenes in Jeremy's cafe the geography of it is fairly unknown to us. Similarly, even though Elizabeth has apparently travelled across America we get no sense of an actual voyage - we just jump from cafe to cafe, bar to bar, with nothing inbetween. The close-ups ensure we know nothing about person or place.

Having said that, the film looks great. Iranian cinematographer Darius Khondji has the freedom to experiment considerably with lighting and camera movement to provide a visual treat, but this significantly distracts from the story - it's almost as if Kar-Wai opted for visual flair over narrative. Jeremy's cafe is lit entirely by multicoloured neon lights, giving it a very unique glow and vivid colours, but this also has the effect of making it look unreal and more like a set of a cafe than an actual cafe. Elsewhere, the constant use of a drop-frame effect to slow the action becomes irritating and meaningless due to its omnipotence. Examples such as Rachel Weisz's sensual entrance, or a practical advertisement for Natalie Portman's Jag, seem to have no other purpose than to sensationalise the image. The general effect is that even the beautiful images become tiresome with the lack of substance to back them up.

Usually, Wong Kar-Wai writes and self-edits his films during the shoot, often filming entire storylines and characters which will eventually be completely cut from the film. The contrast here is that he didn't seem to edit at all, and everything has been left in; every characters story; when really less would have been more. The truth is he did edit the film rather heavily after a poor reception at Cannes last year, but he was unable to save this dire film. I thought perhaps the system of filmmaking in America would have been unsuited to his preferred way of making films, but his producers are the same as the ones in Hong Kong, just as his art director and costume designer and much of his other collaborators have made the transition across with him. This means that rather than getting a real sense of America and American characters, we have Wong Kar-Wai's America - the parallels with Wim Wender's ill-advised slices of Americana are incredible. Two great directors destroyed by their wish to explore a community and society completely unrelated to their own.

I knew this was going to be bad but nothing prepared me for quite how bad it was. I understand his next film, 'The Lady from Shanghai' will also be in English. I just hope this time it's a story and themes and characters he can work with - otherwise bring back Hong Kong, Tony Leung and Christopher Doyle. Their shared films are excellent.

At least the music was good.

Arven (Inheritance, 2003)

I stumbled across this film on late-night television and found quite a little treat. Coming from Denmark, 'Arven' continues in the Dogme 95 tradition of handheld video cameras and naturalistic lighting to create a very intimate little drama about a man who's pressured into taking over the family company after his father commits suicide. Gradually, the pressure sees his life unravel and his relationships disintegrate with great emotive power.

Starring the great Danish actor Ulrich Thomsen, perhaps most well known for the excellent 'Festen', the film jumps between Denmark, Sweden and France, and across several years to reveal the story of a man, Christoffer, forced to give up his own dreams (he owns a restaurant in Stockholm and is married to a beautiful theatre actress) to support the survival of his family's steel firm. Along the way he is forced to fire his brother-in-law, who spread rumours about the company after missing out on the top job, and as a result, alienating his sister and wife who, despite their having a child together, is pushed further and further from him as his work priorities take over from his personal happiness.

The acting is great on all fronts, with a slight theatrical style rather than exact naturalism, but this suits a story which so closely resembles a Shakespearean tragedy. Christoffer's mother is very Lady MacBeth-like in her ambitious drive and constant urges for success and brilliance from the reluctant Christoffer. She shows little remorse when his sister decides never to see them again, and is even colder towards his wife, Maria, who distracts him and pleads for their life back in Stockholm. The main pressures on him concern an essential merger with a French firm, which coincides in his full breakdown and his drunken attempted rape of a housekeeper and self-injury from falling into a glass table. The rocky road to this point is conveyed with great tension and drama, and the characters are all brilliantly developed.

Danish cinema is very strong at the moment, even after the initial success of the Dogme films has passed. Director Per Fly is definitely worth investigating for anyone interested in Danish cinema, and 'Arven' won several awards, although by the looks of it, his other films won even more so I'll definitely be investigating further. If you liked 'Festen', a highlight of Danish cinema, then you'll also love this, another emotional family drama. If you haven't seen 'Festen', you really, really should.

The Jerk (1979)

There is a clear forerunner in American comic films at present. Surrounded by a core group of fellow comedians, Will Ferrell is the towering presence at the centre of many of the best comedies of this millenium, but go back almost 30 years and you'll find the secret to his success and the clear influence on his characters and films. Steve Martin, as 'The Jerk', is the blueprint for the modern trend of good-hearted simple folk who find success, fame or wealth, before realising that love is all they really need.

The story is that of Navin R. Johnson, a white man raised by a black family (believing he was himself black, just the wrong colour). One day he decides to leave and seek his fortune and manages to hitchhike his way to a gas station where he finds a job. One day he helps a customer by adding a handle to their glasses to make them stick to his nose. After coming under attack from an arbitrary gunman, he accidentally runs away with a carnival and gets a job guessing people's weight and driving the mini train, as well as becoming the female stuntbiker's sex slave. He meets a sweet girl, Marie, who he seduces but she rejects him as unable to meet her high standards. Determined to make something of himself he goes in pursuit of her, with the good luck of making his instant fortune when the entrepeneur whose glasses he fixed gives him his share. He lives the high life with Marie in a large mansion, before a suit led by the film's director, Carl Reiner, against Johnson for sending him cross-eyed with his invention robs him of his money and leads him to become a bum on a street.

Just as it seems, the film is incredibly random, with the oddest plot twists and tacked-on jokes. It almost seems that they made it up as they went along. The glue at the centre of the film is Johnson, but Steve Martin's peculiar performance is rather inconsistent and sometimes I couldn't be sure if Johnson really was stupid, or just acting stupid. He is often endearing, but then will suddenly be infuriatingly irrational in terms of the character's inner journey. One example is when he is discussing his properties with some shady gangster types (who have suddenly appeared with no explanation) and takes offence to their discrimination against blacks. Suddenly he strips down to a karate outfit and unleashes kungfu on everyone before kicking one of them between the legs and coming up against his Iron Balls. It just doesn't seem so funny when it's entirely irrational and inconsistent with the plot. One character, played by M. Emmet Walsh, is almost entirely irrelevant, as a madman who picks Johnson's name at random from the phonebook (which has just provided him with such joy for finally being somebody) and then tries to kill him, before returning as a reformed private eye, delivering him his saving grace of millions of dollars.

I acknowledge that that kind of randomness can be very amusing, but usually within a context that is designed for such digressions from the plot, but at the heart of 'The Jerk' is a very simple, linear narrative that requires development. It would be much cleverer to tie in any jokes with the plot, rather than stick them in from time to time. The inclusion of Carl Reiner as the deus ex machina, bringing around Johnson's downfall, is both intriguing and absurd. Potentially, it's cinematically daring, breaking down the fourth wall and revealing the artificiality of the comedy, but within the context of the film it's hard to see it as much more as an easy laugh with Reiner just joining in the fun.

Don't get me wrong, it's funny, there's some brilliant oneliners in there; "There's something about the blues that always make me feel so sad"; and some great visual comedy too; when Johnson believes the gunman is shooting cans he tries to run away only to find various cans all over the garage, and the shots following him. But this comedy always works best when it's a natural progression of the character and the typical position for his stupidity to place him in.

I think where Will Ferrell has been more successful, with films such as 'Anchorman' and 'Talladega Nights', is that the ignorance of his characters has always been more subtle and intriguing, rather than simply mentally retarded like Johnson. The closest relation to Johnson is Ferrell's Ricky Bobby from 'Talladega Nights', a simple guy with one passion, to race, who becomes a huge success and lives with great wealth, before it crashes down around him and he discovers his friendship and the love of a good woman is the true key to happiness. Anyone who loves the films of Will Ferrell, or even Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson and the rest of the current gang would be strongly advised to watch this film as part of the original collection of films by the Saturday Night Live graduates that includes 'Animal House', 'The Blues Brothers' and 'Trading Places'. No doubt you'll find it entertaining, I did, even if it was totally stupid.

The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada (2005)

Tommy Lee Jones' directorial debut is a rich, multi-layered story both subtle and touching. Written by his friend and fellow Texan ranch-holder, Guillermo Arriaga, 'The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada' focuses on the strong friendship between a Texan, Pete (Jones), and an illegal Mexican immigrant, Melquiades (Julio Cedillo), and the promise the Texan made to his friend that he would return his body to Mexican soil should he die. The premise is relatively simple but several problems are encountered along the way and we uncover a small collection of other characters on the peripheries of the narrative that enrich the story and introduce new themes.

The most significant of these characters is Mike Norton (Barry Pepper), a Border Control guard newly arrived with his young wife, Lou Ann, both of whom are loveless and disillusioned. Norton responds with over-agression towards the Mexican immigrants he dedicates himself to stopping, whilst his wife befriends the promiscuous waitress at the local cafe, who is sleeping with both Pete and the local sheriff, Belmont. It is Norton who accidentally shoots Melquiades when he hears gunshots he mistakenly believes are directed towards him. These interweaving narratives are typical of Arriaga's scripts, which include '21 Grams' and 'Babel', but the film never becomes so oppressive or heavily thematic as those others, and both Jones' direction and performance have created quite a little treat.

The film is very much of two halves, even though it is actually separated into four chapters. The first part takes place in Texas, the narrative cutting back and forth showing us the growing friendship of the two ranchers, Pete's investigation of his murder, and Norton's disinterest in little beyond the pornographic magazines he reads when he should be doing his job. There is a strong sense of a Texan identity, with the camera lingering across the dramatic landscape, much like the more recent 'No Country For Old Men'. The main plot twist, when Norton shoots Melquiades, could only happen in the midst of an empty landscape where gunshots could be coming from anywhere and directed towards anyone. Also prevalent in this first section is the use of country and western music, often intruding on the film quite loudly from car radios with their tales of love and loss, placing us firmly in a Texan environment and gaining an insight to the isolation felt by the characters.

The second part of the film is moderately more linear; Pete kidnaps Norton and forces him to dig up Melquiades' body and travel with him into Mexico, on the run from the law and the Border Control. This dark twist brings much more explicit aggression and Norton is subjected to beatings, digging up a decomposing corpse, being dragged through a river by lasso and a rattlesnake bite. There are also some darkly comic moments, such as when Pete sets fire to Melquiades' head and fills it with antifreeze to rid it of ants, or when Norton's desperate escape attempt is accompanied by Pete, silently taunting him on horseback. The gradual decomposing of Melquiades' body parallels the gradual sink of Pete into desperation and juxtaposes Norton's development from selfish and emotionless anger, to sensitivity and understanding. This transformation is never contrived or sentimentalised, however, and we have to wait until almost the end of the film to realise just how far both characters have come.

These changes are characteristic of the heavily metaphorical script. Norton is devoted to preventing the flow of humans from one place to another, and is emotionally blocked himself. But as he crosses the border in the reverse direction, he himself opens up to other people, and is ultimately saved by someone he attacked earlier in the film. He is also punished by his wife's suggested infidelity towards whom he is sexually aggressive, just as the xenophobic sheriff is unable to perform with his mistress, whilst the more transnational Pete (he speaks Spanish with Melquiades) seems to be the favourite with the waitress, although she won't run away with him to Mexico. It's interesting how the characters' abilities to relate to others, particularly other nationalities, is manifested sexually in a what is cast as an infertile environment. The film suggests that the sharing of national identities and cultures, as seen by Jones and Arriaga, is seen as a rewarding cross-fertalisation, and that message is conveyed in an excitingly richly symbolic and artisitc way for an American genre film.

The final twist of the film is fascinating but under-exploited, although it still marks an interesting development in the script which has gradually been pared down, with the sheriff giving up the chase and Norton's wife leaving town. As the film progresses it becomes more and more rewarding, and further from reality, sinking us into an emotional journey for the two men. Jones won the Best Actor prize and Cannes and the film revitalised his career with an Oscar nomination this year for 'In The Valley of Elah'. It is this film, however, that is perhaps the most rewarding film of his I have seen recently. It may be because I simply didn't have any particular expectations and was pleasantly surprised, or maybe it's just a great film. I'm inclined to believe the latter, and I eagerly await Jones' next directorial effort.

Viaggio in Italia (Voyage to Italy, 1954)

Roberto Rossellini was a central figure of Italian Neo-realism (perhaps the most innovative and influential movement in cinematic history) after his film, 'Roma, citta aperta' kickstarted the movement in 1945. 'Viaggio in Italia', however, is quite a different film to the Neo-realist projects that had dominated Italian cinema for several years, and it featured a Hollywood star in Ingrid Bergman, whom Rossellini had conducted a controversial affair with before marrying.

The story is that of a wealthy English couple, Katherine and Alexander (Bergman and George Sanders), as they travel to Italy to sell the house of his uncle. During the course of their journey they discover the uneasy discomfort at the centre of the marriage and their actual disinterest in one another. As they follow their seperate paths, she explores Italian history, connecting with the country and the remarkable historical and natural phenomena of the area surrounding Naples, whilst he stays in Capri in pursuit of a French woman with her own marital problems, before their marriage disintegrates entirely and then almost as suddenly, begins to rebuild itself.

What's good about the film is its story - a subtle exploration of two characters and their relationship, not only with each other but the world that surrounds them and places varying pressures on them. Unfortunately, on a technical level the film was rather disappointing and I was left slightly confused by the film's strong reputation.

George Sanders' acting, firstly, is fairly unevocative and unengaging. To be fair, he plays an emotionally detached man with a sense of arrogance and disinterest that isolates him within this foreign environment. But we've seen Marcello Mastroianni play this sort of character so much better in 'La Dolce Vita' by Rossellini's counterpart, Federico Fellini, and I can't help thinking the film would be much stronger with a performance like that. Bergman's performance is better but she is still not an appealing character, rather vague and emotional, betraying the melodrama the Neo-realist films could sometimes be guilty of. Neither are particularly helped by the dialogue, which is not quite as subtle as the story itself, and doesn't really portray anything of interest. I've read much about the great chemistry between the two of them and the intensity of their relationship falling apart, but I just didn't believe in in that much and felt unmoved. I was much more struck by the scenes they spend apart.

Technically the editing is very poor, with the poor continuity seemingly betraying poor planning or control from Rossellini. One scene in particular, taking place in a car, features several uncomfortable jumps, not following the accustomed rules of editing but not used in an innovative way, say as in Godard's later 'A bout de souffle', either. These peculiar edits sit uncomfortably within the rest of the film, which, unlike the earlier Neo-realist films, strives for a rather polished look. Having said that, the camera movement is often brilliantly fluid with complex tracking shots and overall the effect and atmosphere is not lost.

The film has several moments of intensity and effectiveness. Katherine's visits to various places of interest are always powerful, from the catacombs of the dead where the locals adopt a skeleton to care for as though it were their own lost loved one, to the volcanic openings that swell with steam when softly blown upon with heat. These remarkable moments metaphorically suggest the inner workings of organisms, relationships and love, in a much better way than any narrative would, and they are beautifully photographed, making this an aesthetically pleasing film focusing on the most special (and exotic) aspects of Italian and Neapolitan culture.

The film is heralded as brilliant for its depiction of 'nothing', simply a sense of boredom and emptiness which pervades its character's lives. It's particularly evocative of Antonioni's films in the 60s, and the relationship between characters and their surroundings, suggesting an emotional affinity, is very much an Antonioni trait. Also, as before mentioned, its influence can be seen on Godard, or even on Jim Jarmusch's 'Stranger Than Paradise'. I feel, however, that all of those films that followed also surpassed 'Viaggio in Italia'. Why should 'Stranger Than Paradise', Jarmusch's first proper feature, be so much more technically assured than Rossellini's twentiy-fourth? And how does Antonioni convey emotional detachment with so much more interest and intelligence? Even earlier Rossellini films have been better technically, even if the thematic power of this film makes it one of his best.

I won't say the film is bad, it's not, in some ways it's incredible, but I will say it was a disappointment considering the reputation afforded it. I would definitely recommend the films of Antonioni, Godard and Jarmusch, as well as other New Wave directors who clearly loved and were inspired by the film. I acknowledge the film would also have seemed much more fresh and exciting at the time of its release, but now it does seem a bit of a relic and not really as timeless as Antonioni's 'L'eclisse' or Godard's 'Le Mepris', which can easily be compared stylistically and thematically to 'Viaggio in Italia'. It's still worth seeing mind, it's just personally I didn't find what I was hoping for...much like Katherine and Alexander.

The Elephant Man (1980)

David Lynch is unquestionably one of the world's most distinctive, original and challenging directors, making a very particular kind of film that combines surrealism, sex and suspense with the effect of producing the most unsettling thrillers of cinema. 'The Elephant Man' is an altogether different prospect. Telling the story of John Merrick, the remarkably deformed man who was rescued from a life as a freak and became the latest craze of Victorian London, the film is a very tender portrayal of a man seeking acceptance from a society he can't fully understand, having always existed on its peripheries. Meanwhile, the doctor who saves Merrick questions himself as to his own motives and ambitions to be gained from his association with the Elephant Man. This relatively conventional film demonstrates the impact Lynch might have had on mainstream cinema if he hadn't taken his individualism quite as far as he did.

Lynch was working with a mainstream cast, including John Hurt in an astounding performance as Merrick; Anthony Hopkins as Treves, his conflicted saviour; Anne Bancroft as his admirer and friend, the fashionable actress, Mrs Kendal; and Sir John Gielgud as Carr Gomm, the head of the London Hospital. On the technical side featured cinematographer Freddie Francis, director of countless Horrors in the 60s and 70s; John Morris, composer for Mel Brooks' comedies; production designer Stuart Craig, who went on to build an incredible CV including the 'Harry Potter' films; and editor Anne Coates, who has worked on a variety of films from 'Lawrence of Arabia' to 'The Golden Compass'. In stark contrast, Lynch himself had only made one film, the extremely bizarre and experimental 'Eraserhead', which he had made almost entirely by himself over several years. How he assembled such an experienced cast and crew is unknown to me but the results are spectacular, with a brilliantly acted, technically excellent film that won several awards and was nominated for 8 Oscars. John Hurt has never been so stunning, still able to make an incredible human connection beneath mounds of make-up and prosthetics.

The film begins in typical Lynch style with an abstract, dreamlike montage featuring the events that allegedly led to Merrick's deformation - his mother being trampled by an elephant - only the way Lynch shoots the scene we can't be entirely sure she isn't raped. The rest of the film is fairly settled in comparison, but the trademark experimental soundtrack of 'Eraserhead' (where there was never a moment of silence but a constant barrage of industrial noises and unnerving creaks) is also present here, only this time the heavy breathing of the chronically bronchitis-infected Merrick is juxtaposed with the puffing of steam engines and the hissing of gas lamps. This, we understand, is a film that examines the relationship between an increasingly industrial world with the purely physical nature of humans - after all, Merrick's affliction is only skin deep and we find a very tender and loving man beneath. The beautiful cinematography shifts from traditionally framed establishing shots to unbalanced, high-angled pans and the editing often intercuts one calm, tender scene with a tense build-up of violence, creating a constant restlessness and menacing air to the film. The director's hand of Lynch is masterful and confident.

Whilst we follows Merrick's gradual acceptance into the company of normal people, we see a collection of characters around him looking to exploit his uniqueness. There is his 'owner', the bullying but weak Bytes (Freddie Jones), who fears losing his livelihood after his most valuable 'freak' is taken away from him. Then there is the hospital's night porter (Michael Elphick) who takes advantage of his position to take paying, and often drunk, visitors to Merrick's room at night where they terrorise him. Finally, there is Treves, who initially takes in Merrick to present him to his peers and make a name for himself, before later allowing the most privileged members of society access to him in an altogether more high-class form of freak show. These character's come to various ends and these issue are resolved in different ways, but throughout, Merrick remains powerless, constantly relying on the help of those more fortunate than himsalf, and believing he has found friends among those that are simply intrigued of egotistic. His presence in London even interests Queen Victoria, who intervenes in order to ensure he has permanent residence in the hospital.

Ultimately, the film resembles a fairytale. The ugly duckling who gains love and friendship from others through his own innocence. He is reminiscient of Dostoyevsky's 'Idiot', unaware of his clumsiness and unsuitability for society, but charming and delightful in a childlike way. His physical exceptionalness is almost second to his remarkable incorruptibility, the tragedy of his situation combined with his stoic attitude often moving both characters and audience to tears. Only Lynch's similarly conventional, 'The Straight Story', would feature a character so unquestionably good, whilst the rest of his career has focused on the much darker aspects of the human psyche.

Don't get me wrong, I deeply admire Lynch's other films, with the head-fuck of 'Lost Highway' being a personal favourite, but I can't help but wonder what might have been if he had been much more subtle and plied his trade from within more conventional cinema. 'The Elephant Man' still presents many opportunities for experimentation and the film is no doubt much richer for Lynch's vision, just imagine what other topics he could have handled in a similar vein...

Papillon (1973)

The remarkable story of Henri Charriere, aka Papillon, was just dying for the Hollywood treatment. A French convict sent to a prison colony in French Guiana, Papillon adamantly sought to escape again and again, despite the near impossibility of doing so. In the process he spent a total of seven years in solitary confinement, slowly losing strength and sanity, as well as befriending and helping various other prisoners.

Steve McQueen gave one of his best performances as Papillon, the tough and confident man slowly destroyed by a system determined to crush his spirit and resolve, whilst Dustin Hoffman plays Louis Dega, the mild mannered counterfeiter who hires Papillon to protect him against the fellow prisoners determined to get their hands on the money lodged inside him for safekeeping. It's a sign of how Papillon's singlemindedness made him both heroic and desperate that he doesn't realise how his constant escapes take their toll on Dega, who funds his escape attempts or tries to protect him with bribes when he is caught.

Although the film was made in the Seventies it comes from an older tradition of epic stories, and director Franklin Schaffner was best known for 'Planet of the Apes' and 'Patton' - grand heroic tales rather than intimate portraits of its flawed characters. The casting of McQueen and Hoffman also presents the conflict between the two styles. Although the actors were only 7 years apart in age, McQueen represented the classic heroic leading man, whilst Hoffman imbued his character with an improvisational humanity and a more interesting weakness. Nevertheless, as the unstoppable Papillon, McQueen is perfect for the role and gives a sensitive portrayal of a man trying to ignore the plight of his fellow prisoners and fight against those who try to crush him. By the end of the film, looking incredibly aged and weakened, escape has almost become an instinct for him - even when he has a perfectly pleasant existence with an allotment on a Carribean island.

Given the subject, it's nice that some moments of comedy can be found, such as in the butterfly-catching scene, and the film also doesn't shy away from presenting the horrors of a highly classed society where the prisoners are powerless against the guards and forced into slave labour to help colonise the country. But the film is also fairly light throughout. Papillon is supposedly innocent (of killing a pimp) but then none of the favourable characters are really shown to have evil tendencies, only the prison guards who keep them in check, or those who take advantage of their desire to escape and betray them. Papillon is never explicitly portrayed as a hero but we're definitely on his side and its suggested we should marvel at his physical and mental strength, as well as sympathise with his misfortunes. Ultimately, Degas is the easiest character to sympathise with as he is entirely defeated by the end, whilst we know that Papillon will always be ok.

Given the style of the film there's no real cinematic flair but rather a focus on the story, which is handled well, with the lengthy story condensed efficiently, particularly in the extended sequence showing the time Papillon spent with an indigenous tribe, when not a word is spoken. The film is still rather long though, and is an engrossing story to be taken in by. It's a timeless classic really, cementing the reputation of McQueen and firmly establishing Hoffman as a great character actor and master of transformation. I saw this when I was a lot younger and enjoyed it now just as much as I did then, and am sure I will again.

Cidade Baixa (Lower City, 2005)

This steamy film carefully balances slick action with well developed characters and thoughtful emotion. Telling the story of two best friends who fall in love with the same woman, 'Lower City' follows on from 'City of God' in showing aspects of life in the lower regions of Brazilian society. Writer/Director Sergio Machado uses a handheld camera to capture the energy of the characters lives; strip joints, commiting crimes, fighting; and extreme close-ups to convey the intensity of the three leads' love for one another and their inability to handle these feelings.

Typically, the two friends, Deco (Lazaro Ramos) and Naldinho (Wagner Moura), are street smart and confident, happily gambling, drinking and seducing women, until they encounter the wandering strip-dancer, Karinna (Alice Braga). Her initial lustful charm captivates the men until soon all three are feeling something much deeper. Despite the friends' best attempts, their desire and apparent love for Karinna, drives a wedge between the two of them are they are pushed firmly apart. Karinna herself doesn't seem able to distinguish between the two and can't stop herself pulling them further into conflict. The film constantly shifts its focus from one character to the other as we see the emotional toil they go through, and their attempts to involve themselves in distracting activities - boxing, robberies and prostitution.

The three meet when Karinna is in need of a ride to Salvador in Bahia, a poor region of northeast Brazil. They accomodate her on their boat in return for a little cash and some sex. The next night, one of them is stabbed and Karinna is drawn into helping them, and gradually becoming more attached. First, she sleeps with one, then to even the balance she sleeps with the other, without initially giving much thought to the other's feelings. Both Ramos and Moura convey their growing jealousy well, with the characters responding with different attitudes before finally openly competing with one another. By this point it's too late for anyone to stop it.

The film is well shot, with a strong modern style, through the use of handheld cameras and bright colours. The editing is sharp and the film has a lot of energy. Despite this, there are touches of neo-realism placing the film firmly in a time and place, with scenes often occuring in the street whilst the public look on. The perfect example of this would be the ultimate fight between the two (by now former) friends in an alleyway, intercut with shots of the locals silently watching on from their windows, unsurprised by this explosion of violence outside their frontdoors. We get a good sense of the economic environment and the possibilites open to young people in this society with their only opportunities for finding money coming from robbing pharmacies, throwing fights, or sailing out to harboured ships to prostitute themselves to sailors.

The story is definitely familiar, but by transposing it to the particular environs of Bahia we get a special experience. Also, the intense sexuality of the film, not only in the explicit sex scenes but also in those tense moments between, strongly conveys the lust and desire of the characters. Not only do they lust after sex, but they lust after greater opportunities, constantly discussing getting away and starting afresh. Right at the beginning fo the film, Karinna is seen setting off almost to seek her fortune, but is immediately thrust into an existence where she relies on her body and the desires of frustrated men.

This is the ideal film for those interested in world cinema without wanting to get bogged down by anything arty. Just like 'City of God', in which Alice Braga again played the desired woman, this is a distinctly Brazilian film with international appeal. If you like sexually charged, violent, aggressive films (all the bad stuff then) with a strong humanity and sensitivity at its core - you'll definitely like this.

Junebug (2005)

There's been a definite trend in American independent cinema, post-'Royal Tenenbaums', to focus on the eccentricities of the family unit and the conflict and camaraderie that arises from such groups. 'Junebug' presents us with a simple family of simple folk, viewed through the eyes of outsider, Madeleine (Embeth Davidtz), an art dealer with a history far removed from the God-fearing family of her new husband, George (Alessandro Nivola). What unfolds is a humourous and touching tale of the problems faced by these people who can't always understand the situations they find themselves in, but who are never potrayed in a condescending or overly-comic way. They are not all entirely likeable, and can be frustrating, but in a short time we come to care for them all.

When Madeleine is required to visit a reclusive artist in order to sign him to her gallery, she and George take the opportunity to visit his family who live nearby. We meet his mother and father, Peg and Eugene (Celia Weston and Scott Wilson respectively), his resentful brother Johnny (Ben McKenzie) and Johnny's heavily pregnant young wife, Ashley (Amy Adams). Madeleine tries hard to ingratiate herself and become a part of the family but her best efforts are often misunderstood or unappreciated. Peg is resistant of this woman so different to herself and almost seems to want to protect her family from such an outsider, unwilling to give her a chance. Eugene, alternatively, is very quiet and hard to read, but always appears to have a profound situation of everyone's relationships with one another. Ashley is optimistic and upbeat about Madeleine and keen to befriend her, but this enthusiasm really hides the truth of her insecurities surrounding her pregnancy. Perhaps the most intriguing character is Johnny, hateful of his high achieving brother and frustrated with his life already mapped out for him with a baby at such a young age, but also displaying moments of thoughtfulness and love for Ashley and enjoyment with his co-workers. Often questions are raised about the relationships that are never answered, or characters behave in ways we don't understand - I believe this is because the characters don't always understand why they act the way they do, or how do deal with their relationships. Just as in reality, no one has all the answers.

In terms of plot, the film doesn't progress all that much until a powerful finale, but is instead more concerned with discovering the characters and the world in which they reside, as well as the contrasts between the two worlds that George (who, ironically, is probably the most insignificant character) inhabits. Director Phil Morrison displays a distinctive style which balances brilliantly between a human drama and a more distanced art film, allowing the audience to get a sense of the space that comprises the families whole world - their home. On several occasions, in the middle of a scene, the camera will wander off around the house, perhaps finding another character involved in their own activities, before returning to the scene again, with the sound of the dialogue in the background all along. This ensures we feel the closeness of the family and the lack of space and privacy from one another. Other times, this serves to remove us from the main action and focus instead on something that is important to one other character, such as at the end of the film when Madeleine and George leave, although we miss the departure because we're listening to Johnny on the phone. Even if we see mainly through Madeleine's eyes, we understand that each character has their own concerns and issues.

The performances are all great and often suprising. Although a lot of roles would appear not to be too demanding, they are handled by the actors in such a way as to increase their effectiveness. For example, Madeleine is a fairly straightforward, warm character trying to befriend these people who are important to her, but the physicality Davidtz brings to the role - always touching whoever she's talking to, often inappropriately embracing people - makes us feel her awkwardness and aware of the discomfort her presence causes. The greatest revelation for me was Ben McKenzie who I've only previously seen a few times in The OC and felt was fairly non-descript. Here, however, he brings a subtle broodiness that goes beyond just looking grumpy, and tackles possibly the most complex character with a mixture of animosity and tenderness. Amy Adams was nominated for an Oscar for her portrayal of the upbeat but unintelligent Ashley, which, although on the surface apears to be a fairly basic comic role, should be applauded for her ability to portray her without condescension and reveal the insecurities and feelings within. When the film reaches its most serious point and the emotion pours forth, Adams is astounding. Obviously, a lot of credit should also go to the great writing of Angus MacLachlan who, with his first script, really tapped into the inner workings and complexities of most families.

I was expecting something more lighthearted and potentially vacuous, like 'Garden State' but what I got was something much more layered and affecting, in the vein of 'The Squid and the Whale'. This is because ontemporary independent American cinema can be tricky to pull off and is also, inevitably, a matter of taste. I, for example, didn't think 'Little Miss Sunshine' offered much beyond clichés and jokes. But for me, 'Junebug' is one of the successes, along with 'The Station Agent' or 'You, Me and Everyone We Know'. I'm not sure I could give a convincing argument as to why some work when others don't but I definitely think 'Junebug' is worth investigation and will probably pleasantly surprise most.