December pre-Christmas film roundup

Stage Beauty ** - A film about the end of the era of men playing women's roles in Britain's playhouses and the start of the brave new world of women doing it instead, centred on the relationship between the leading female impersonator of the day and his dresser who, despite being an awful actress, is at least famous for being the very first. Neither Billy Crudup nor Claire Danes are at their best, but Rupert Everett has an absolute ball as the decadent Charles II and Richard Griffiths, as would-be theatrical patron Sir Charles Sedley, steals the screen. The film, which inevitably draws comparisons with the much superior Shakespeare In Love, makes half-hearted attempts to show parallels to the modern day, particularly in the "cult" of celebrity (Danes, having her portrait painted, is encouraged to expose her breast because that's what the punters really want to see). The recreation of London of the era is inadequate and stagey, although perhaps appropriate for a film such as this, particularly one made by a renowned stage director. But ultimately there is a terminal lack of sexual energy between the two leads.

The Majestic *** - Frank "Shawshank" Darabont's ode to an America that has never really existed is not amongst his best work, but does at least prove once again that Jim Carrey can be extremely powerful in dramatic roles. Carrey plays a blacklisted Hollywood writer of the McCarthy era who washes up in a small town where, suffering from amnesia, he is mistaken for the missing son of the town's cinema owner and given a hero's welcome. Darabont handles the story well and evidently has a good handle on evoking the appropriate era, but even in the context of his other films this is pretty implausible stuff.

Crash **** - Described fairly early on in 2005 as "film of the year", this is an ensemble piece about the theme of prejudice in twenty-first century Los Angeles - particularly, but not exclusively, racial prejudice. The interest comes from having an A-list cast in an essentially independent production, many playing against type - Sandra Bullock is a particularly nasty, elitist specimen. Some of the scenarios take on the horror of nightmares in their crushing inevitability. One scene in particular is a masterpiece of emotional manipulation on the part of writer/director Paul Haggis (author of the excellent Million Dollar Baby), leaving this reviewer deeply moved. The film's overall lack of cohesiveness is only a minor niggle: this quite possibly is indeed Film Of The Year.

The Forgotten *** - Bears an uncanny resemblance to an extended episode of The X Files, with grieving mother Julianne Moore investigating the air crash that killed her son and finding mysterious goings-on. A few jolts but, ironically, rather forgettable.

The Chronicles Of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe *** - Suffers, as most adaptations do, from damaging comparison with the novel (or even the BBC television serial). Some ropey graphics makes it occasionally hard to care about the CGI-based characters and consequently Aslan's death, which is extremely moving in other versions the story, is curiously uninvolving. The New Zealand-shot battle scenes are highly unlikely to convert anyone who didn't appreciate The Lord Of The Rings. But some of the acting is rather fine, particularly Tilda Swinton, who relishes her role as the evil White Witch, and newcomer Georgie Henley as young Lucy, who, at only ten years old, provides an astonishingly mature performance.

Perfect Day (TVM) ** - While it's great that Five are investing in original drama, this is a bit of a dud, not only covering ground seen elsewhere a hundred times before, but doing it in a rather plodding manner. Set on a couple's wedding day, it's essentially a will they / won't they situation with the ending never in any doubt. The comedic elements are never as funny as the likes of Four Weddings even though they are often much the same, occasionally wandering into uncomfortable territory (there's a recurring "gag" on the idea of underage sex).

The Chorus  (Les Choristes) **** - This is, in essence, a French version of Dead Poet's Society with slight overtones of Mr. Holland's Opus, a smattering of Billy Elliot and spiced with the counter-authoritarian attitude of The Shawshank Redemption in which the inmates take delight in small victories over the oppressive regime. In this case, it is music that provides redemption for a bunch of orphaned and disruptive kids in an austere reform school in rural mid-twentieth century France. Despite all these antecedants, though, and despite the modern-day framing story, the film remains realistic and unsentimental. While the outcome is predictable, the journey there is entertaining and moving enough to keep the audience involved throughout. The memorable performances are all the more remarkable for the fact that the young actors do all of their own singing.

November film roundup

Tim Burton's Corpse Bride **** - It's frustrating to try and review this. I want to give it *****, because it's a brave project and, in its own way, a remarkable achievement. But I feel I ought to give it ***, because the story is weak: love triangles can never be resolved both happily and satisfactorily, and Corpse Bride ducks out. Neither the story nor the songs are as effective as Burton's earlier Nightmare Before Christmas, but the romance is sweeter and the animation inspired. If, in five or ten years time, Burton makes another animation combining the best elements of both films, then it will certainly be brilliant.

Mystic River *** - Clint Eastwood directs this rather depressing tale of three friends torn apart in childhood by terrible circumstances, then thrown back together as adults under equally appalling conditions. It's well made and brilliantly acted, but it is never clear what the overall message of the film is and offers no hope of redemption for its ultimately tragic hero.

Ghost In The Shell *** - An animé that pushes all the proper Japanimation buttons - cyborgs, violence, hi-tech futurescapes. The animation is, occasionally, stunning, but the plot, which draws obvious parallels with The Matrix, is too confusing and lacking in heart to be truly memorable.

October film roundup

Cowboy Bebop: The Movie *** - Fun, cool and sassy animé that seems to be drawn most obviously from Batman and, more specifically, The Joker. The only bum note is the computer whiz Ed who manages to be annoying in every single scene.

Office Space *** - A bit like Falling Down, only with fewer bazookas. Wish-fulfilment comedy that doesn't quite strike the right chord. (Is an intelligent, articulate computer programmer really going to feel more valued doing manual work salvaging fire-damaged goods?)

The Dukes Of Hazzard ** - Fun while it lasts, but instantly forgettable. Hopefully (but not obviously) the role of Daisy Duke - who exists solely to elicit vital information from male characters by wearing tiny denim shorts and / or exposing a lot of midriff - is a recurring joke rather than appalling cliché.

Swimming Pool *** - Enigmatic and mysterious, but beautifully shot, this is either patent stereotyping or brilliant subversion.

Somersault ** - Slow-burning drama about a teenage girl finding herself through running away and experiencing casual and not-so-casual sex. Well-acted but overall rings false.

Tokyo Godfathers *** - One of the least "animated" animations I've ever seen, this is an unusual way of celebrating the spirit of Christmas (complete with its own Holy Trinity and miracle baby) with doses of high humour and gritty realism.

Wallace And Gromit In The Curse Of The Were-Rabbit **** - Sounds a bit daft to say this about a film whose central character is a plasticene dog who knits recreationally, but somehow this film doesn't seem quite as "real" as W&G's earlier adventures. The animation, acting and script are all first-class.

The Castle Of Cagliostro *** - Hayao Miyazaki's first film is as beautiful as one might hope, allowing for the fact that it was made twenty years before Spirited Away. It also includes many of what would come to be regarded as the director's hallmarks: Young girl on the cusp of adulthood; flying machines; a European location.

Hotel Rwanda **** - Harrowing and shocking (and true) account of the atrocities in Rwanda that shows that the appalling treatment of one human being by another is not a feature limited to historical cases, but for some people is still a threat today. Inviting inevitable comparisons with Schindler's List, a more interesting parallel is The Pianist: in that film, one man is helped by dozens of people (who place themselves at massive risk, for no apparent reason) whilst in Hotel Rwanda, one resourceful and brave man uses every avenue open to him to save as many people as possible. Directed by Terry George, the author of The Boxer, which also invites speculation that he is comparing the situation in Rwanda with that in Northern Ireland and asking: If we can let this genocide happen, even under the watchful eye of the UN, what does this say about us as human beings? And are we not close to monsters ourselves?

Minireview - Napoleon Dynamite ***

The title character is a geeky, freaky high school kid who lives with his older brother (and whatever assorted relative can be bothered to look after the pair of them) in some kind of 1980s timewarp, where life is simpler, fashions are naffer, but the Internet still exists. He has one friend at school and, perplexingly, a girl who may or may not be interested in him - but otherwise, he lives in an isolated bubble, in which he even appears to be mostly free of the kind of torment that one might expect of an uber-geek in an average American high school.

Honestly? I have no idea whether or not I liked this movie. In fact, since I started reviewing every film I watched, I have seen and had an opinion (one way or the other) on more than 300 movies. Until Napoleon Dynamite, I have never come out of a film feeling quite so bewildered. I don't know whether I like the character or whether I'm supposed to be rooting for him. I'm unsure whether I buy the story.

Tacked onto the end of the closing credits is a significant coda - shot some time after the rest of the film - which subtly shifts the perspective we have on several key characters. It's a self-consciously odd thing to do at the end of a film that is inherently basking in its own oddness. For this reason alone, it fails to work effectively as either a comedy or a drama.

Minireview - Ghost World ***

Based on a graphic novel - what "cult" films coming out of America these days aren't? - this is a rather slight film about two misfit teenagers leaving school and starting to explore the wider world. While one tends towards a more conventional life - finding a steady job and spending the proceeds shopping for housewares - the other is determined to remain resolutely outside mainstream society. To that end, she strikes up a bizarre relationship with a weirdo older man, a jazz obsessive who she sees as being similarly marginalised by a society so demanding of conformity.

For the most part, despite the bizarre relationships, it's quite a believable film and engrossing in its own way. The performances of Thora Birch and Steve Buscemi, in particular, are compelling. However, a few points niggle. Scarlett Johansson and Thora Birch aren't quite weird enough - or weird-looking enough - to seem plausible as social outsiders. Birch's character, Enid, is broadly unpleasant rather than simply counter-culture, making it hard to empathise with her; she treats strangers, her friends and her admirers with the same contempt.

Some cameo appearances and throw-away references to other comic books start to grate after a while - it starts to feel like an incestuous comic-book love-in. (Not surprising, given that the director's previous film was Crumb, about the graphic novel author Robert Crumb - who also cropped up as a character in American Splendor. Evidently, the world of graphic novels is a small and close-knit one.) But the main difficulty with the film is that there is no plot to speak of; rather, a series of occasionally self-destructive vignettes. That may well have been the raison d'etre of the original novel - the celebration of a tiny slice of a tiny life - but it makes for a frustrating motion picture experience.