My Way Home (1978)

Charming.

My Ain Folk (1973)

Poignant.

My Childhood (1972)

Powerful.

The Big Easy (1987)

A sexy, light-hearted crime thriller, The Big Easy now seems a little dated and doesn’t seem to have a strong identity in terms of it narrative or characters. At times, a dark story of police corruption, the next moment it almost touches on romantic comedy territory. Perhaps, though, this is closer to real life in the way crime and romance in one person’s life can produce very different moods within the space of a few hours. But Ellen Barkin as Anne Osborne also comes across as both professionally tough and emotionally fragile – again, an interesting contradiction but a frustrating one.

Perhaps I just didn’t really like it, as I know it has a good reputation. For me it was much like Dennis Quaid’s New Orleans accent – it can’t decide quite what it’s trying to be and so doesn’t commit itself either way.

The Time Machine (2002)

The Time Machine tries its best to update the premonitory science-fiction of H. G. Wells’ original novel but only seems to become less exciting by introducing logical scientific developments such as holographic computers and a world dominated by advertising, and thereby taking the fun out of Hartdegen’s adventures. When he does arrive in the very, very far future the CGI does create an impressive other-world but the performances from a vacant Guy Pearce and try-hard Samantha Mumba can not contribute much to save what is, ultimately, a fairly ridiculous story.

Some attempt is made to create a contemporary relevance condemning war, climate change and even the pursuit of knowledge but the film contradicts itself as, even in the futuristic idyll of 800,000 years from now, there is another race of man that will always force these pressures on peace-loving people.

The most redeeming aspect of the film is the clever use of scenes that combine the past and future at one and the same time.

Rio das Mortes (1971)

I love the idea of Rio das Mortes, in which two old friends in dead-end jobs rekindle their plan to travel to South America and discover lost treasures, only to have their hopes deflated by an intolerant girlfriend – it speaks of the frustrations and dreams of post-War youths in Germany on such a simple level, struggling to raise money and convert their fantasies into reality.

The finished product may not be all that special but it does boast one of the best Fassbinder scenes, when he inexplicably appears to accompany Hanna Schygulla’s great dancing. Considering the amount of films he made in such a short space of time, this made-for-TV movie is still better than anything a lot of other directors could make.

La ley del deseo (Law of Desire, 1987)

Law of Desire is a strong example of a typical Almodovar film, featuring homosexuals, transvestites, jealousy, murder, multiples storylines and the world of performance. It’s also colourful and frivolous, quite entertaining, a bit confusing and sometimes frustratingly silly. It depends if you like Almodovar – I personally would like a little more variation.

Die Niklashauser Fart (The Niklashausen Journey, 1970)

The Niklashausen Journey is one of Fassbinder’s most openly experimental films, combining characters in modern dress with others in medieval costumes, rural idylls and contemporary rock concerts, in order to tell the story of a small revolution surrounding a shepherd who claims to have been visited by the Virgin Mary. Parallels are drawn between the religious fervour of earlier centuries with socialist groups attempting to upset the authorities.

The way in which this story is told can be a little alienating in its lack of conventional narrative but the point is sufficiently communicated to make this Fassbinder’s most explicitly political film.

Der Amerikanische Soldat (The American Soldier, 1970)

A rather brief and inconsequential film, The American Soldier is also one of Fassbinder best-known early works. Bringing a new, German angle to the crime noir of Hollywood, it tells the story of a young man returning home from Vietnam to Munich, where he is hired as a contract killer, and the three bent coppers who hire him then try to destroy him.

The film makes typical use of Fassbinder’s sparse dialogue and set design, suggesting a certain amateurism that makes the true professionalism seem all the more remarkable – the key factor that makes Fassbinder’s early films so accessible yet impressive. A good representative of his early genre films but certainly not one of his best.

The Fountain (2006)

The Fountain is, unfortunately, one of the worst films I’ve seen. After the gritty and experimental Pi and Requiem for a Dream, Darren Aronofsky has opted for high production values, epic special effects and a storyline crossing centuries – only he doesn’t have the money, or the story, to pull it off. The original cast featured Brad Pitt, Cate Blanchett and Johnny Depp, and no doubt would have been spectacular, but after Pitt pulled out to make the equally poor Troy, he reportedly cost the production $90 million, and it never quite recovered.

With an embarrassing plot veering between a conquistador, a scientist and a futuristic Buddha figure, it’s unlikely all the money in the world would have helped, whilst Rachel Weisz and Hugh Jackman struggle with poor dialogue and ludicrous scenes to emerge with any dignity at all.

An upsetting instalment from an otherwise intriguing director, although hopes that he may recover have been let down by the news his next film is about a wrestler and stars Mickey Rourke – proof that some directors are better of never ‘making it’.

Berlin Alexanderplatz (1980)

I went through a bit of a quiet patch with film watching, mostly down tot he fact that my time was taken up with ths epic from Fassbinder. Clocking in at 15 and a half hours, 'Berlin Alexanderplatz' was made for television but is essentially the longest narrative film ever made.

An ambitious attempt to adapt Alfred Doblin's novel, which traces the trials and tribulations of one man, Franz Biberkopf, as he tries to survive the poverty of Berlin between the wars, taking in a variety of themes from crime to true love, a naive sense of good in all people to psychopathic neuroses and the rise of Nazism, the film is a remarkable achievement marking the highpoint of Fassbinder's prolific and innovative career.

The performances are universally superb, aided by the fact that most of the scenes are extended beyond their typical length, allowing events, emotions and themes to be fully expressed and explored, within the stylised framework of Fassbinder's staging. It's not unusual to suddenly realise that one conversation has lasted twenty minutes, without a huge amount being said - with the true extent of the characters' feelings expressed through their behaviour and the development of their relationships with the other protagonists within a single scene. This can become a little too much sometimes, and occasionally, particularly with the often-repeated memories, it can feel like the episodes are being plumped out, but on the whole the film's power increases with each minute.

Gunter Lamprecht, as Biberkopf, is particularly superb, appearing in almost every scene and going through a significant transformation at one point, but special mention should go to Gottfried John's subtle evocation of the terrifying and deadly Reinhold, whilst Barbara Sukowa gives a sweet and humorous early performance.

The film is also a wonderful human map of Berlin, even if the majority of the action occurs around Alexanderplatz. We encounter the various aspects of inter-war life including the variety of options open to those looking for work and the final dependence on crime to make money, the frequent role that bars and prostitutes play in maintaining good morale, and attitudes to sex and relationships. Throughout the film there are various readings from contemporary texts, often dealing with scientific developments in the understanding of sex and relationships, brilliantly recording the changing attitudes of the time and giving an insight into the psychology of the people at the time.

Beyond the thematic content, there's an intriguing and actively exciting narrative tracing Biberkopf's unwavering faith in his friends and lovers, as the pressures of society press down upon him harder and harder. The epilogue, which is basically a film in itself, is a major departure from the rest of the film as it becomes increasingly feverish, dreamlike and symbolic, taking place largely inside Biberkopf's mind. I personally didn't enjoy that element as much as the rest of the film but it's certainly ambitious and well executed.

Nothing I write will fully do justice to this series/film, simply because it includes so much. Unfortunately many people won't take the effort to watch something so lengthy but if you treat like a television series it's really not difficult. I recommend it to everyone but especially to any fans of Fassbinder as, for me, this is his crowning achievement.

Ladri di biciclette (Bicycle Thieves, 1948)

It's a tribute to the power of this film that it has become one of the most highly revered films of all times, despite also being perhaps one of the simplest. Its success may in part be down to its reputation as the quintessential example of Italian Neo-Realism, despite it being neither the first or best of the genre.

Like the vast majority of Neo-Realist films, 'Bicycle Thieves' focusses on the extreme poverty of the working classes in post-war Italy. In this case, an unemployed man is finally offered a job, on the provision that he owns a bicycle. Whilst the first part of the film details his struggle to raise the funds to reclaim his bike from the pawnbrokers, reaching an optimistic climax, the second half sinks back into frustration and disappointment after the bike is stolen and the hero recruits his friends and son to help him recover it.

Thanks to the simplicity of the plot, and the realism of the film's style, shot on the streets of Rome with amateur actors, within real communities, the power of either the most basic scenes shines through, and we feel each injustice and anger at each barricade preventing the hero from making even a small wage. The film's ending is among the most profound, memorable and upsetting in cinema.

I'm almost embarrassed to say that, despite studying film and watching everything I can get my hands on, this is the first time I have seen this film, which many consider an essential part of any education in international art cinema. Due to the role that Italian Neo-Realism played in the history of cinema (in my opinion, it was probably the catalyst for the greatest development in the film industry) by creating an independent method of film-making that left the studios for real locations, I would have to agree that this is a film everyone should see.

Radio On (1980)

Hailed as a classic upon its rerelease, this British road movie doesn't quite live up to the hype, predominantly because it's so deliberately despondent. Focusing on the alienation from one's fellow man that arises from the isolation of motorway travel, the film follows a young man travelling across the country after his brother's death, perhaps unconsciously seeking to rediscover a similar attachment to another person.

Instead, he picks up an intimidatingly aggressive hitch-hiker, briefly relates in a superficial manner with a musical mechanic (played by a young Sting), then becomes involved with a German woman stranded in Bristol with her daughter, all playing their part in his attempts to 'wake up' from his self-imposed stupor.

Throughout, the film boasts an excellent soundtrack of early electronica from the likes of Kraftwerk and David Bowie, further emphasizing the artificiality of the modern age. Inspired and produced by Wim Wenders, in the spirit of his own European road movies, this makes a informed attempt at transposing the genre to Britain but too often feels a little rushed and cheap, without any truly revelatory content.

Andrey Rublyov (Andrei Rublev, 1969)

Considered by many, myself included, to be one of the finest films of all time, Andrey Rublev is a stunningly epic film, with a story that meanders through history, focussing predominantly on the life of the icon painter, Rublev, as well as a conflict between rival twin Princes and Tartar invasions.

It was only Tarkovsky's second film but was hugely ambitious, featuring grand battles, thousands of extras and a whole 15th century town alongside a personal artistic vision that saw early signs of Tarkovsky's style of visual poetry that came to dominate his later films.

The ever-changing focus of the plot can be a little disorienting, as are the jumps in time, but the ambiguity of the elliptical narrative makes this far more interesting than the Hollywood version would be. There's a healthy balance between introspective exploration and exciting action that can only be found in the big budget art films made in the Soviet Union.

For me, the best part of the film is the final half hour, which could easily stand alone as its own film. By this point Andrei Rublev has drifted into the background as we see the young Kirill, son of the greatest bellmaker who was killed in the Tartar attack, charged with the responsibility of casting the replacement bell for the rebuilding of the city. Here we see the young, insecure man attempting to assert himself over his more experienced crew, promising them the secret of bell-clay. It's such an interesting premise for a film, and a great analogy, within this context of Russian history, of the strength and conviction with which the young nation united its various warring factions to create the beauty and culture of the modern Russia - as Tarkovsky saw it anyhow.

The breathtaking cinematography, intense performances, unique narrative, challenging length and theological and philosophical content make this an incredible and engrossing cinematic experience.

Rikos ja rangaistus (Crime and Punishment, 1983)

It would be a difficult task for any director, no matter how masterful, to succeed in transporting what is, for me, perhaps the greatest novel of all time. Kaurismaki decided to go for it with his first film, but also wisely opted to alter the story considerably, reducing the plot and modernising the action.

The result is instantly Kaurismakian, making use of his efficient shooting style and expressionless actors, which succeeds in reducing the complexities of the story into a parable. It means the novel isn't best represented but the story and themes are well understood, establishing a talented director.

The Dark Knight (2008)

Here, finally, is the film to convince me that comic book adaptations can be worthwhile - although I'd still prefer it if the more comic book elements had been removed. The first thing to say is that Heath Ledger is incredible. His Joker truly is the performance of a lifetime and his untimely death will ensure that this film remains legendary for such an incredible embodiment of chaos. Unfortunately for everyone else, Ledger utterly overshadows the rest of the film, despite strong supporting performances from Gary Oldman, Aaron Eckhart and Michael Caine.

The biggest victim here is Christian Bale's Batman who drifts into the background, squeezed out by two many characters and Bale's rather dull performance. For me this is a good thing as, whilst Ledger's performance is believable and terrifying, the character of Batman is cartoonish and ridiculous - with his laughable 'scary voice', CGI motorbike tricks and sci-fi sonar technology.

The film is so rich because of the intelligent psychology that explores the codependent relationship between Batman and the Joker; justice and chaos. Elsewhere, the contrast is between the limits of masked crime fighting and the risks of public justice fighting embodied by the ambitious new District Attorney. These more pensive themes are surrounded by spectacular explosions and chases, which can start to drag as the film grows overlong, but all in all the film achieves the near-impossible of being a serious, weighty action movie.

It's only really Batman that spoils it for me, taking the film beyond an identifiable reality and into commercial fantasy. There are a few occasions when the film goes a bit far but on the whole it's a treat. I'm sure there are many people out there who aren't as cynical or elitist as me and perfectly enjoy comic books and all the extravagant adventure they offer. With 'The Dark Knight', however, even the people like me will be happy.