Film Reviews by Steve

This adaptation by James Goldman of his own stage play imagines a power struggle between Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine as they plot for succession between their three sons in 1183. What it most resembles is a medieval variation on Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? And the history is fictionalised into a star vehicle for Peter O'Toole and Katherine Hepburn.

Both actors give big, boisterous performances as the battling Plantagenets, as they manoeuvre for control. Hepburn creates one of her signature roles and won a deserved Oscar. While it's more of a comedy than a serious historical document, the locations, sets and costumes make the period feel unusually authentic and lived in.

The three sons each represent a key characteristic of the King. Anthony Hopkins as Richard (the Lionheart), is a warrior. John Castle as Geoffrey, is a schemer. And Nigel Terry as John, is a grotesque. Though the constant internecine intrigue is elaborate, it's easy to follow, and entertaining.

O'Toole gives a more irreverent interpretation of Henry than he does in Becket. Though he's palpably the same man, but older. The dialogue is intentionally anachronistic and stacked with great lines and memorable insults. Everything is exaggerated. Maybe it struggles to sustain the pantomime all the way to the fade out, but it's still a lot of fun.

This spectacular historical epic from AEW Mason's popular Victorian novel arguably trumps golden age Hollywood on its own terms. This is among the great action adventures of the thirties. The attitudes to the empire and class are dated, and probably misguided, but purely as an example of cinematic storytelling, it is a masterpiece.

John Clements plays a young officer from an aristocratic family with a tradition in the British military. He brings shame upon the ancestral name when he resigns his commission just as his unit leaves to join Kitchener's army in Sudan. Three of his comrades send him the white feather of cowardice. The deepest cut is when his beloved fiancée (June Duprez) does the same.

 So the maligned civilian travels to Africa to heroically save his friends in the war against the Dervishes. Much of this now provokes memories of Ripping Yarns, and is unintentionally comical, especially when Ralph Richardson, suddenly entirely blind in the desert from sunstroke, still leads the charge against the anti-British uprising.

Yet, it will take a hard heart not to be roused by all this ill-advised bravery and sacrifice. The action was actually shot in Sudan in splendid Technicolor. There's a huge, elaborate production with a fine score. Clements and Duprez lack personality, but the cast is spirited. This premiered the day after Britain declared war on Germany. Its impact must have been immense.

This low budget naval drama about the War in the Atlantic covers similar territory to The Cruel Sea, which was released the following year. It's not as good, but it does capture a particular point about WWII better than any other film; the impoverished unpreparedness of the British in the first days of the conflict.

The Gift Horse is a name given to the donation by the US government of battleships left over from the Great War. So the British were forced to face up to the German Kriegsmarine with a fleet of surplus destroyers. The film is based on the Campbeltown and actually shot on another gift horse, the Leamington.

The narrative is divided between action at sea and events on the home front. Most of these are standard situations. The crew are divided and have no respect for the captain who is trying to impose discipline. In time they develop an unshakable bond which sees them through many hazards, including the raid on the German dock at St Nazaire.

The film's strength is the realistic portrayal of conditions on the Atlantic. The understated performances are all excellent, particularly Trevor Howard as the complex, burdened skipper. And it's an interesting, little told story from before the US joined the fight, when the British forces had little else to fall back on but audacity and excessive risk taking.

Low budget reboot of the eternal literary legend. With the previous year's The Curse of Frankenstein, this revived the horror film across the world and made genre stars of Peter Cushing as Dr. van Helsing, and Christopher Lee in the title role. This is a long way from the rodent-like Max Schreck in the original Nosferatu (1922).

This Dracula is an erotic figure. When a repressed suburban housewife (Melissa Stribling) comes home to her husband (Michael Gough) with bite marks in her neck, she is glowingly post-coital. She never knew it could be like this! These women leave their windows open for the Prince of Darkness. So he is a threat to christianity and suburban values...

The film begins with the open pages of Bram Stoker's novel and a narrative voice. But this isn't remotely faithful, especially compared with FW Murnau's classic. Though it doesn't take the liberties of some of Hammer's sequels. Most of the changes are to accommodate the budget, but many of the most famous episodes are lost.

Apart from the schlock of the flesh and the Technicolor blood, this is a film about addiction. Dracula's desire is always described as a drug. There is actually quite a lot of exposition, describing the rules of the vampire film, which everyone now already knows. It's a stripped down sexy romp, and while not the definitive version, still a landmark in UK cinema.

Hugely ambitious and influential biopic based on Seven Pillars of Wisdom by Thomas Edward Lawrence about his experiences in co-ordinating nomadic Bedouin Arabs to fight the Turkish empire during WWI. With its Super-Panavision, extensive cast of stars and extras, big orchestral score and massive production logistics, this is the ultimate example of the cinematic epic.

Its extreme length presents a challenge, spread out over nearly four hours. There is an abundance of unhurried photography of the desert. But the narrative drive rarely falters and even the slightest interest in the history is amply rewarded. The politics strikes a balance. The Arab fight for self determination is portrayed as fanciful, but the British motives are avaricious and mendacious.

The characters all express an opinion on Lawrence, but it's Peter O'Toole's phenomenal portrayal which most impacts how we appraise him; a strong willed fantasist with a god-complex. While the photography and the production design are magnificent, it's the star who makes the exotic feel real. Freddie Francis' camera establishes Lawrence as a mythic figure.

There were ten Oscar nominations and seven wins including for best picture and director. It looks astonishing. There is nuance, but mainly this is a spectacular realisation of a broad sweep of political history. It is overwhelming both in terms of its enterprise, and the demands it makes of the viewer. It's also among the greatest and most imposing historical epics ever made.

This made news on release as Boris Karloff's first role back in UK after his success in Universal monster films. So a supernatural subplot was inserted into a crime story about assorted crooks in pursuit of a priceless diamond. Karloff plays a dying Egyptologist who seeks eternal life by being buried with the enchanted jewel.

So he is the ghoul who returns from his crypt to track down the robber who steals it. There are the usual archetypes of early horror films, with the gaunt solicitor who reads the will, a bickering but intrepid couple who fall in love, the ominous Egyptian collector, the idiotic comic relief and, in his screen debut, Ralph Richardson as the imposter.

Best of all is Ernest Thesiger as the sinister, faithful servant. Boris is only in the film for the opening 15 minutes and briefly at the climax, but he does give the film stature. This is a much more interesting story than The Mummy which Karloff starred in a year earlier. And the production holds up well too. It's splendidly photographed with excellent sets.

This is a kind of horror-pantomime; an old dark house story in which the actors give broad, melodramatic performances. It's quite spooky, and creaky, and not at all scary. It was presumed lost for many years. Often those films turn out to be not much when rediscovered, but this is great fun and a significant entry in the Karloff legend.

The last of the post 1945 cycle of black and white British World War II films which established the popular image of a generation of male stars. In this case Kenneth More as the super-brain behind naval intelligence, fighting the German navy in the Atlantic, and of course, plotting the demise of their famously unsinkable battleship.

The bulk of the film takes place in the underground nerve centre in London. Most of the scenes away from HQ are with the German officers on the bridge of the Bismarck. This saves money, but the action scenes, when they come, are extremely well realised. At times the realistic, procedural style of the film is a bit dry. And means a lot of talk.

This is principally a flagwaver that celebrates one of the crucial achievements of the war, and recognises the contributions of those involved. More's (fictitious) character is officious, but working for the right side. His adversary on the Bismarck (Karel Stepanek) is a sentimental Nazi who undermines his cause with his stubborn, irrational hubris.

Neither is likeable. They are promoted because in war, the outcome is everything. Scrape off enough superficial patriotism, and this begins to feel like an antiwar scenario; the skirmish seriously damages both sides. The real hero is Dana Wynter as a key backroom facilitator. Other than the spies, she is one of the few female role models in this era of WWII films.

Delirious melodrama set in a swanky hotspot in the West End. The film's stature among critics is possibly enhanced relative to the poverty of British silent films generally, but this is still an unusual and striking curiosity. And principally because of the performance of it's star, the Chinese-American Anna May Wong.

She plays a dishwasher in the Piccadilly, who becomes a sensation when she gets to perform a sexy, exotic dance number in front of the jaded, well heeled patrons. Which upsets the resident dancer, a fading jazz babe played by Gilda Grey, especially when the new girl attracts the interest of the boss (Jameson Thomas).

There are fascinating similarities with GW Pabst's Pandora's Box, starring Louise Brooks, released the same year. Both are about a femme fatale who destroys men through naive sexual allure. The director of Piccadilly, EA Dupont, was also German, as were his cinematographer and set designer. And the film looks spectacular.

Anna May, like Brooks, became famous overnight, before soon fading into obscurity. But both are indelible in their brief moment of stardom. They even share the same hairstyle! Piccadilly isn't quite in the same class. And it is poorly edited and implausible. But it's a landmark British film photographed with an abundance of style.

After 1945 there was a wave of thrillers about a US veteran going back to Europe to chase up some loose end from the war and invariably fall in love. This came towards the end of the cycle and is among the more entertaining. Ray Milland returns to Britain to investigate the mystery of his brother's death, and dally with Patricia Roc.

Jacques Tourneur had his own style, but there is a strong impression of Alfred Hitchcock here, maybe because the producer Joan Harrison was a close associate of the Master. The plot is standard. Milland basically confronts the survivors of the special operation in which his brother was shot. But this is a well put together suspense film made on a small budget.

The remainder of the running time involves the cute flirtation between the determined, disoriented American and the high maintenance British working girl. Milland played this part many time. Patricia Roc's role is mostly decorative, as an English rose, but with a thorn. Among the support cast, Naunton Wayne stands out as a slippery car salesman with a secret for sale.

This should appeal to fans of film noir, though there isn't any visual expressionism. Or a femme fatale. It's not as good as Tourneur's more celegrated UK film- Night of the Demon- but still a compelling mystery-thriller directed by a real craftsman.

The final part of Hammer's early seventies trilogy of sexy vampire horrors is a return to form after the disappointing Lust for a Vampire. It's mostly remembered for casting identical nineteen year old twins who had been featured in Playboy a few months earlier. Mary Collinson plays the pure, obedient sister. While Madeleine is the vampire.

I think. They're not easily identified, even without clothes. Actually, there's little nudity, but as a gimmick, this stunt casting really works. Otherwise there's a pretty good gothic horror story. Peter Cushing is quite compelling as a witchfinder who tortures and murders the powerless villagers while averting his gaze from the Satanic aristocrat (Damien Thomas) in the old castle.

Which of course the villagers storm in the rousing climax. The film really scores with the beautiful sets and authentic-seeming costumes, which must be among the best Hammer ever put together. There's a thumping score which often feels like it's about to drift off into a mariachi number.

While there's no gore, there is a sadistic edge to some scenes which is horrific and subversive. Neither god nor the devil is much help to the poor. The trilogy is supposed to be based on the stories of Victorian gothic writer Sheridan le Fanu, but this has strayed far from the source. There's occasional narrative drag, but the production alone makes it worth seeing.

An instant remake of the German musical-comedy Viktor und Victoria (1933) which was later adapted as a vehicle for Julie Andrews in 1982. Admittedly, the theme of gender fluidity was probably more congruous to Weimer Berlin than thirties London, but it still works and it's interesting to see British attitudes to sexuality in the period.

Jessie Matthews plays another starving, out of work showgirl in the depression. She finds success when filling in for Sonnie Hale's female impersonation act when he loses his voice. So she is a girl pretending to be a boy, pretending to be a girl. And there's plenty of opportunity for Jessie to exhibit her diverse talents for dancing, singing and light comedy.

Sonnie Hale was her husband in real life, and they make a fine double act, occasionally slipping into the kind of broad comedy routines typical of Laurel and Hardy. Anna Lee in particular offers quality support as a waspish aristocrat who wants to expose the deception. She's actually quite broadminded, unlike her fiancé (Griffith Jones) who resents his attraction to the fake boy.

He eventually gets the girl- it's the same thing!- so he is not punished for his prejudice. The film doesn't have an agenda, it's just an entertainment. Though it is quite liberal. While there are some good songs and choreography and decent gags, it principally survives because of the star quality of Jessie Matthews, who again delights with her offbeat screwball x-factor..

Charming social comedy which once in motion achieves a kind of sublime, friction free state of entertainment. It draws upon the public persona of its big box office star Rex Harrison, who had a reputation as a womaniser. He plays an amnesiac who finds himself in Wales without memory, only to discover that his condition has resulted in six marriages and no divorces.

Harrison actually was eventually married six times and his philandering led to real tragedy. But this is a light comedy. They all want him back. The ballbusting lawyer (Margaret Leighton) hired to defend the bigamist, falls in love with him, as do the women on the jury. In a case of life imitating art, Rex began an affair with his co-star, Kay Kendall.

This might be overkill if it wasn't for the sublime touch of everyone involved, including Harrison, who is brilliant this kind of cheerfully ludicrous fluff. There's a genuinely funny script and an experienced comedy director in Sidney Gilliatt. The lovely Technicolor adds a little sweetness. Cecil Parker as the dismayed psychiatrist is just a bonus.

It's possible that in the era of #MeToo some will find this indulgence of the male ego a turn off. But watched in the spirit of the times there is one of the wittiest British scripts of the decade. And the cast squeezes all the laughs out of every line. This is is the comedy of manners made by experts; the kind of grown up frou-frou that Lubitsch used to make.

Tough, low budget heist drama which upends the moral code of fifties British WWII films and anticipates the anti-establishment values of the sixties counterculture. Two disaffected combat veterans team up with a Polish explosives expert to raid an army safe stocked up with cash to pay for an operation overseas. Something like Suez.

The trio break into barracks while the soldiers are leaving. As former grunts themselves, they know how to salute, but they are the foreign body which jams normal army machinery. No one stops them, but they keep breaching regulations. Stanley Baker is the leader with the sort of improvisational daring which would be invaluable in wartime.

He and Tom Bell are fuelled with the resentment that leads them to take on the system, but also makes it difficult to co-operate with each other. The two leads are excellent. German actor Helmut Schmid has less to do as the safe-breaker. It'd be interesting to know whether the makers considered him as a former Nazi soldier, but maybe that would be too subversive...

This is a really thoughtful, brooding crime story, which is given a touch of class by Baker's star quality. Three years earlier, The League of Gentlemen touched on similar themes, but this is a much angrier film. When Baker walks through the army camp burning it down with his flame thrower, it's not just a dramatic visual image, it's also a metaphor. Welcome to the sixties.

Landmark black comedy which is one of the key films of the sixties. Stanley Kubrick audaciously satirises the nuclear arms race between the cold war powers just two years after the Cuban Missile Crisis. And in particular, the strategy of Mutual Assured Destruction, which theorises that the outcome of a nuclear exchange would be so destructive it could never happen...

But there were near misses... Sterling Hayden plays a crazy, anti-communist US General who unilaterally launches H-bombs at Russia. This will trigger the Soviet Doomsday Machine which responds via a computer without human intervention. Yes it's a comedy... and it is genuinely funny mostly because of Peter Sellers' performances.

He plays three characters, including the ineffectual American President and a rather self-effacing RAF officer. But most sensationally, he is Dr. Strangelove, a sinister former Nazi now working in the Pentagon. Presumably the character's barely suppressed insanity is intended to suggest that US politics is slipping into fascism.

This is still a fine picture, though it doesn't feel as subversive as it once did. What is now most unsettling is that Hayden's certifiable extremism is no longer a joke. In the Age of Internet, fake conspiracies are central to American politics. How dystopian can the film seem once Donald Trump has been in the White House for real.

WWII submarine drama made during the Battle of the Atlantic. The propaganda is unusually realistic. The perilous pursuit of a battleship called the Brandenburg is fictional, but the film gives a potent impression of what combat in a submarine must have been like, but backed by the comical make-do typical of British war films,

It also informs the home front of the incredible risks which are routinely being taken by ordinary people. And to expect those who fight to come home changed. John Mills is the skipper, but the most prominent role goes to Eric Portman, a resentful loner who ultimately saves the crew through an act of selfless bravery.

This isn't a prestige production, but Anthony Asquith's accomplished direction makes it a cut above the glut of low budget action films made during the war. While the episode when Portman almost singlehandedly seizes a Nazi fuel depot with his practical German and a lot of pluck is unrealistic, the skill of the cast and creatives make us want to believe.

The crew represents a cross section of regions and classes. These are ensemble roles, though the credits list the cast in order of rank! The home lives of the men are a turmoil which they occasionally revisit on leave, but are unable to resolve. They walk away to execute extraordinary acts of courage. Asquith acknowledges their sacrifice.