Film Reviews by Steve

Oddball survival adventure which seems to combine the action genre with the theatre of the absurd! The pitch should have been to imagine a novel by Alistair MacLean adapted for the screen by Samuel Beckett. So two handcuffed prisoners in an unnamed country (it was shot in Spain) attempt to escape a military government in the pursuit of an illusory freedom...

... while chased from above by a sinister black helicopter. Actually, there is hardly any exposition at all. This is a head movie and anything resembling a MacGuffin has been stripped out. Essentially, these people are running away because they are running away. The men (Robert Shaw and Malcolm McDowell) have contrasting personalities, but their motives are mysterious.

Shaw gives a charismatic performance, but his character is a cypher. The enemy is menacing, but obscure. The film is about the action, and vaguely about human entrapment. Of course, many will find this pretentious. But those who buy into it may particularly be rewarded by the incredible Spanish landscapes that the fugitives are pinned against.

Howard Hawks eventually decided that a logical plot doesn't matter and punters just want dialogue and action. This takes that premise as far as it can go. And while the lack of motivation makes the film feel empty, that void just deepens the theme of human futility. It is too long, but it is encouraging that such an abstract film got made, and is still watched.

Michael Powell's final release is an adaptation of a banned autobiographical novel by Australian painter/sculptor Norman Lindsay. So it belongs in a group of the director's work about the psychology of the artist. James Mason is a nonconformist, a middle aged bohemian who searches for inspiration in the tropical backwater of the Great Barrier Reef.

He finds his muse in a wild girl who has grown up uneducated on the remote island. She is played by Helen Mirren in her first significant film role. This child of nature is uninhibited and awkward, but when swimming down among the coral and the fish she acquires a primal grace. The story reflects upon their freedom, and how it is compromised.

Like most of Powell's films, there is a strong, spiritual undertow to the flow of the narrative. This one is more comical than most, with some knockabout comedy, including an astonishing performance from Godfrey, the dog. It looks stunning, capturing the exotic grandeur of the Queensland coast, particularly the spectacular underwater photography.

Mason's Aussie accent comes and goes and Mirren doesn't even try. It was a big hit in Australia, but a flop elsewhere, and sadly Powell's final project was for the Children's Film Foundation. But this is a typically offbeat venture from the great director, both personal and magnificent. And it captures a way of living which has been lost.

A boy and his pet film, with a difference. It is a critique of an education system which is complicit in the failure of the child; who will be just another kid sent down the mines. David Bradley plays a lonely, neglected working class kid from a Yorkshire mining town who finds self worth through his relationship with the wild kestrel he raises from a chick.

The teachers do not engage with him. His father has gone and his mother does not love him. But through the falcon he develops a capacity to understand, nurture, and be more fulfilled. This isn't like Disney, where the boy's dreams would come true. He is destroyed by others who are just as damaged as himself. He exists in a hierarchy of bullying.

At the apex is the disinterested headteacher who aimlessly hands out corporal punishment. Or more comically the resentful, intimidating games coach (Brian Glover) who act's like he's Bobby Charlton. Loach shoots this in a social realist style: the cast are amateurs; scenes are improvised in real locations; action is shown in long shots without montage.

This environment is absolutely real and Bradley is enduringly authentic. Sometimes momentum is lost while the director spells out what he presumes is unfamiliar to the audience. But Ken Loach's polemic, adapted from Barry Hines' classroom classic, connected with the British public more than any of his other films.

Funny, flashy relationship drama set in a gorgeous touristic France, which plays out over 12 years. A young, attractive couple meet on the Newhaven-Dieppe ferry, fall in love and marry, then have a daughter, while drifting inexorably apart. This is staged over five driving holidays. Episodes from these are shuffled together so the scenes move freely between each trip.

So experiences from different times of life are contrasted to comical or wistful effect. The dialogue which starts as flirtatious develops an edge. They acquire more money but have less fun. Their passion gets run down. And they have affairs. It's an old sad story.

Albert Finney as the husband is inscrutable, but Audrey Hepburn as his wife is hugely sympathetic and charming. The ostentatious, modernist style which once made it chic is now dated, but it has acquired enormous nostalgic appeal, including the cars and Audrey wears groovy Carnaby Street fashions. And the tourist sites are blissfully uncrowded.

The film ends with a romantic crisis, but it doesn't exhume their disappointments to much depth. Part of the problem is Finney doesn't give the impression he has much to lose. This is a light, entertaining film which is more comical than tragic. There is stylish direction, a clever script and Henry Mancini's lovely easy listening score applies plenty of surface gloss.

This kind of macabre, rural melodrama came to be called folk horror, but it isn't really a scare film at all. It's based on a historic public figure, Matthew Hopkins who ran witch trials during the English Civil War, principally for his own enrichment. It is mostly fictional. There is no supernatural theme. If this is a horror film at all it is because of the grotesque depravity of the period.

Vincent Price plays the witchfinder and he called it his greatest performance. It's still pretty unsubtle, though he does dial down the histrionics. Robert Russell is as effective, as Hopkins' (real life) strongarm John Stearne. Though the protagonist is Ian Ogilvy as a member of Cromwell's army, driven to revenge after the duo murder his father in law and rape his wife.

And he is handsome and virtuous and Price is corrupt and degenerate. As a moral tale, it's uncomplicated. This has become a huge cult item, partly because of the interesting fusion of real history and fantasy, though this is a mix which runs all the way back to Dracula. There is plenty of decadent wickedness. Best of all is the period atmosphere and East Anglian locations.

It's compelling, but the prurient violence makes this feel like a voyeuristic guilty pleasure. It's nowhere near as explicit as a modern horror film, but the cruelty is so creative that it eventually gets to feel unpleasant. This was legalised atrocity. Of course, many go to horror exactly for this. And at least it all ends unfavourably for the bad guys.

Charming coming of age comedy about the sexual experiences and daydreams of a teenage boy in the long summer between school and college, and his search for the ideal girl. This story has been told many times, but there's an artlessness here which is poignant as well as funny. It's a record of a time and a place; the English new towns during the sixties sexual revolution.

Barry Evans lacks charisma as the virgin in need of experience, but maybe that's appropriate. He pursues a variety of contrasting archetypes. My pick is Angela Scoular as a sexually precocious posh girl with emancipated parents. The film often echoes Billy Liar, particularly when Judy Geeson is running through her Julie Christie mannerisms.

It was shot on the streets of Stevenage with Evans on his bike setting out his teenage philosophy on life and love. This may now seem naive but it all adds up to sweet nostalgia. There are inserts of psychedelic montage and a groovy original soundtrack by Spencer Davis Group and Traffic. The girls wear trendy gear from Carnaby Street.

The film is winsome rather than sophisticated, though there is unexpected nudity. Some of the appeal is that it is so British. If this was an American B film in '68, all the kids would be cool and driving cars and tuning in and turning on. But this unpretentious time capsule has an innocence, and is probably nearer the real experiences of sixties teenagers.

Droll British caper which (maybe) features the first cybercrime on film. Peter Ustinov plays a socially awkward computer programmer who has just served time and then fraudulently takes a senior post with a big American corporation. While falling for a lonely secretary (Maggie Smith), he sets about diverting cash into bogus business accounts.

It's one of those London films of the period which opens with a shot of a red bus passing a famous tourist destination. It was made with the American market in mind. Sadly this didn't lead to greater opportunities for Maggie Smith, who is superb. If the British film industry hadn't collapsed around this time, surely she'd have become a huge film star.

And this impression of national malaise is the principal theme of the film. This is a Britain surviving on foreign money, carrying a defunct aristocracy. A country of defecting idealists and the brain drain. What else is an enterprising hacker going to do but but shake the last few coins from the pockets of the body? Which makes the film feel quite contemporary.

But while there's a mood of cynicism, it's still a funny, modest film; and the slight bitterness is sweetened by the optimism of these two isolated people coming together. Ustinov does his usual bumbling schtick, but he and Smith make an adorable couple. And everything turns out for the best in the end, because it's a comedy.

The definitive film version of William Shakespeare's immortal tragedy of doomed young lovers from feuding aristocratic families in Renaissance Verona. It's an abridged adaptation, but faithful in spirit. There is gorgeous set design, and location photography around Tuscany. It all looks far too pristine to be realistic, but still magnificent.

The film is most famous for casting actors closer to the age of the characters in the play than was usual. Juliet is 13 in the text, and Olivia Hussey was 16 during production. Leonard Whiting, playing Romeo, was 17. And while their acting is quite raw- for which director Franco Zeffirelli must take some responsibility- this production is made extraordinary by their performances.

The enchantment of their romantic scenes is thrilling and inspiring, particularly their meeting at the Capulet's masked ball, and of course, the balcony scene. While the subplots involving long scenes of bawdy crosstalk can get tiresome, there is always magic when this Romeo and Juliet are on screen together, accompanied by the lovely, romantic score.

Those indifferent to Shakespeare's poetic verse are unlikely to enjoy this, because although the speeches are edited, there's still plenty of talk. The long sword fighting scenes are well choreographed, though not for everyone. But there is also spectacle, with Oscars for cinematography and costume design. Most of all, it's Leonard and Olivia who breath new life into their 400 year old infatuation.

Absurd but ridiculously entertaining World War II action spectacular. It's one of the many productions of the sixties which took the model of the post war special operations film and then remade it with a huge budget, in colour with a wide screen format. Richard Burton and Clint Eastwood are the stars, but their stunt doubles get more screen time.

And there must be more explosions than in any other film. The two leads break into a German castle fortress in the Alps to free an Allied General and for Burton to deliver a ludicrous plot twist. Then the laconic, unkillable Eastwood basically blasts them back to London. The real purpose of the raid alters about every 15 minutes, but, who cares...

As this is a sequence of stunts and explosions, it might be argued that it should be eclipsed by modern action films with more evolved effects. But it still works. The climax on board a cable car is justly famous. It helps that the stars are legends of the cinema. Mary Ure is sympathetic as an imbedded British spy and Derren Nesbitt reliably odious as a Gestapo officer.

The Austrian locations are a plus, especially the imposing Hohenwarfen Castle. Most of all, the story has unstoppable momentum. There''s a long running time of 160m, but it passes in a flash. It's all extremely improbable, but many special operation missions during WWII really were! Maybe it's a low bar, but it's easily the best screen version of a novel by Alistair MacLean.

For many years, Up the Khyber was rated as the best of the Carry On series. There's a decent location shoot, with Snowdon, Wales standing in for the North West Frontier, Afghanistan, and reasonable production values. The plot is typically absurd, but more robust than usual.

While there's the standard barrage of smutty double entendres, a few still raise a titter and they are not as threadbare as some later entries. The cast of regulars isn't quite at full strength- Kenneth Connor is always missed- but most of the key names are present and Joan Sims is in good form as the vulgar wife of the Governor (Sidney James).

It's a spoof of those historical adventure films about the British in India during the height of the empire. Which would have been fair game to the cast and crew at the time, but now will be problematic to some. So there are silly puns made of Indian names, with Bernard Bresslaw as Bungdit Din. Half of the cast is in brownface.

So what was once the jewel in the crown of the Carry On series, now feels among the most compromised. If all that is set aside... this is genial, unpretentious stuff which really doesn't mean to offend. It seems unlikely that these films are still being watched half a century on. But compared to other lowbrow comedies of the period, this one stands up fairly well.

Sweet romance about the first love of two inexperienced, lonely teenagers in an isolated village in rural Gloucestershire. Hayley Mills is a wild local girl whose prospects are limited by her learning disability. Ian McShane is an uneducated Romany traveller who is camped in the adjacent countryside.

And they fall in love. The film isn't realistic. It's a fanciful daydream which is made poignant by the heartfelt performances of the two leads, and not undermined by the cutes of the nonprofessional contributions by the local children. There's an aura of guileless optimism which admittedly wouldn't stand up to more cynical scrutiny.

This was a family affair for Hayley. Her mother (Mary Hayley Bell) wrote the sentimental story and script. It has something of the feel of her Whistle Down the Wind. And her father (John Mills) directs with sympathy for the solitary, rootless sweethearts. Though is susceptible to the odd visual gimmick.

Credit should also be extended to Hamlet the dog. The story conveys an impression that, in the context of the mysteries of life and the universe, all of us are like trusting children. And we should preserve our sense of wonder. It's a simple film, but with plenty of compassion for the lives of others.

Expansive historical epic based on the Siege of Khartoum in 1885, with Charlton Heston as Charles Gordon almost singlehandedly resisting the army of a Sudanese warlord, played by Laurence Olivier. There will be differences of opinion on the politics. The film positions the Governor General as a hypocrite but the would-be Mahdi as a psychopath. So it expects us to take a side.

Heston is a natural for this kind of man of destiny, a Victorian adventurer with a mission. Those who are offended by traditional casting methods will be not appreciate Olivier as the Islamic warrior, but he certainly wins the charisma contest. Though he is in a support role, Charlie is the star. But even he orates in the shadow of the amazing, panoramic spectacle.

There is a huge cast of extras performing the sweeping battles across the ostentatious breadth of the Ultra-Panavision. Costumes, sets and locations (in Egypt) are all magnificent. And they are matched by Robert Ardley's Oscar nominated script which conveys historical depth and ideas without ever being pompous or long-winded.

It looks amazing. Basil Dearden normally made small progressive protest films, but is equal to a more epic scale. Perhaps surprisingly for a liberal director, Khartoum isn't critical of the Empire. Heston's General Gordon is nuanced, but ultimately a hero. In some ways it is dated, but certainly the vast scale of the action would never be recreated now, without CGI.

Though this melancholy spy thriller was made under the obvious influence of John le Carré, it isn't a cold war story. British intelligence attempts to shut down a subversive organisation in West Berlin. And it's not obvious why they would interfere in internal West German politics at all... but it employs all the motifs of the cold war mystery to good effect.

The big error was casting an American star as the agent sent by the repressed, unscrupulous bureaucrats of Whitehall to infiltrate the neo-Nazis. George Segal is engaging enough, but this character only really works if played by a resentful Brit. His strategy is unsubtle... He makes a big bloody fuss and waits for the dissidents to chase him!

But any fan of the cold war genre will find plenty to love. There's an authentically chilly score from John Barry. Harold Pinter wrote the laconic, pessimistic script. And there's a quality support cast playing a gallery of archetypes. Santa Berger is the beautiful and enigmatic Berliner who may not be all she seems. Alec Guinness is our man in Berlin. Max von Sydow makes a flamboyant villain.

Though aside from killing and torturing British agents, it's not clear what are the objectives of his organisation. The plot is relatively uncomplicated for this genre and at times it loses momentum. There's a scene at the Olympic stadium of 1936 and other touristic sites which contribute local atmosphere. Most of all, it's the aura of fatalistic despair that stays in the memory.

Handsome and intelligent account of the English Reformation under Henry VIII from the point of view of his Chancellor Thomas More, who became its martyr. This was a huge Oscar winner and not just for its sumptuous production design but for many of the big ones, like best director for Fred Zinnemann, best actor for Paul Scofield as More, and best picture.

And crucially, Robert Bolt for his adaptation of his stage hit. While the early exchanges dawdle, once the legal hostilities erupt between More and Thomas Cromwell (Leo McKern) the scenes crackle with cerebral vitality. Scofield is convincing as the erudite, resolute More, who is presented as a flawless hero. But despite his Academy Award he is eclipsed by the more charismatic support roles.

Robert Shaw plays Henry as a shifty, malevolent toddler. A sociopath. But with enough charm to suggest why he might be indulged as well as feared. Susannah York makes an impression as More's shrewd, educated daughter. And McKern is equal to the star. But credit to Scofield, he is up on screen for the entire running time.

The production makes excellent use of real locations, like More's rural mansion, and especially the River Thames. But for all of its richness of detail, it doesn't stray far from the theatrical source, which draws on contemporary records. The politics is fascinating, but it is a sedate, scholarly film more likely to appeal to those interested in the period.

Grand but realistic adaptation of the Thomas Hardy classic is one of the greatest films ever made from a Victorian novel. Without the meticulous profundity of the author's prose, instead we get an epic romance, quite brilliantly cast as three contrasting suitors pursue the independent young mistress of a working farm.

The four stars have something of the 1960s about them, as well as the 1860s. This is most true of Julie Christie who plays the proud but well intentioned Bathsheba Everdene. Peter Finch best absorbs the period as a reserved, middle aged landowner destabilised by her youth and beauty. Terence Stamp is charismatic as the flamboyant, capricious Sergeant in scarlet red.

Best of all is Alan Bates as the steadfast Gabriel Oak, one of the great heroes of Victorian literature. The script does a fair job of taming Hardy's long novel, though the conclusion is fluffed. Unfortunately, Gabriel is offscreen for much of the last third. It's a romance but mostly about unrequited love. Even when Gabriel and Bathsheba finally marry, there is an impression she is burned out by tragedy.

This is a beguiling experience. Some scenes are heavy with enchantment, like the harvest supper when Miss Everdene sings to the labourers. There is evocative use of period ballads. The film captures the ambience and appearance of Hardy's Wessex. But also his sadness; that fate is malign for most and happiness just a fleeting release from adversity.