Film Reviews by Strovey

Although ‘Departures’ was made to highlight a seemingly taboo Japanese topic it really is broader than that. Here in the so-called ‘west’ we tend to treat films about death and how the bodies of our nearest and dearest are treated in a much broader comedic style. Even in stories where an undertaker or the profession is not the topic, characters involved in that trade are usually treated with a dose of comedy, often dark and foreboding – Still Game anyone?

Departures treat the profession of ‘encoffinment’ with a more serious and dignified tone than many other films. It does not shy away from comedic moments, almost farcical but mixes these in with dignified professionalism and sentimentality, all seamless in the approach. The themes of reconciliation and redemption are often never far from death and here is the underlying theme to at least Diago’s tale as he struggles with the guilt of how he failed to fully look after his mother and his disdain for his estranged father, who he had not seen since he was six years of age.

Dealing with the death of many loved ones through the running time it would have been easy to become overly sentimental and maudlin but Kundô Koyama’s screenplay whips us through laughter, a beautiful scene of relatives smothering their deceased relative in lipstick from kisses to violence and anger, a girl who has died in a motorcycle accident and acceptance and love, his son is buried as he lived his life as a girl.

Equally as interesting is Diago’s conflict with his new role, dealing with the dead, he does not want to tell anyone, he is almost ashamed of what he does, but eventually, the dignity he can give to those in their final send-off, breaks down his resistance.

It would not be a Japanese film without the ‘double take’ comedic moment and histrionic anger to show passionate emotion, both in my view just a tad too much but they certainly do not distract from the overall story.

Ryôko Hirosue as Diago’s loyal wife is a less satisfactory role, at times simpering and there to highlight to the audience the cultural view on working with the dead and death in general. Pregnant and admiring the cherry blossoms director Koyama could not be more on the nose with death and rebirth and the never-ending circle of life in one scene, perhaps not the subtlest you will ever see. Initially repulsed to the point of even leaving her husband by this trade all we the audience want her to see is the professional dignity that Daigo gives those that have died and Takita does not leave us disappointed, in a moving final preparation in the final scenes.

Departures is not a ‘deep’ film but because of the topic, it does not have to be. A profession that people around the world take part in that the rest of us prefer not to think about, and in this case actively ignore or even despise, is treated with emotional dignity the same as Masahiro Motoki’s lead character does.

The acting is on a par with any I have seen in Japanese films, and although the running time is ten minutes over two hours Departures does not outlive its welcome. You truly would have to have a heart of stone to not shed a tear at some time during the viewing and even though you are right there amongst death, Departures leaves you feeling uplifted and positive.

Certainly, a film I would recommend about something many prefer not to watch.

Although Hopscotch was based on Brian Garfield’s novel you would be forgiven for thinking the entire enterprise had been written specifically for Matthau. Miles Kendig is sharp, witty, kindly, and ambles through life with a knowing glint in his eye and thus the ambling and witty Matthau easily slips into his shoes bringing the ‘old hand’ CIA agent to life immediately making you care about him and like him. Nothing other than a joy to watch regardless of the story.

The story itself is familiar a rogue agent goes up against friend and foe to give information to ‘Joe Public’ that neither would rather have out there. Mostly these are played seriously with great peril and often death for most of the participants. In Hopscotch we are in this for the laughs and know full well that although Kendig’s former bosses would actually bump him off, he is so far ahead of the game and clever enough for it never to be a possibility. Therein lies the rub, it is fun as his admiring friend played by Sam Waterson, tries his hardest to capture him with a wry smile whilst all the others, led by Ned Beatty, pompous and unctuous, along with his other charges get angrier and more frustrated the longer the Kendrig continues. It is fun and funny. Hebert Lom even turns up as Kendig’s adversary who admires him and works more like him than his CIA colleagues..

Along for the ride, and possibly shoe-horned in, is Matthau’s old film partner Glenda Jackson, as she helps and advises his character and rekindles an old romance, being a retired British spy and former beau. This does feel as if Jackson is in the film so we can have that chemistry between her and Matthau, but why not?

The story whips along with no real peril for Matthau, you know full well he is going to succeed and you get the impression it was a relaxed set and everyone enjoyed themselves and had fun. In the worst cases this translates terribly to the screen, when the viewer gets no fun, but in this film the fun and enjoyment are infectious and we all get to partake.

With a British director, Ronald Neame, he of The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, The Poseidon Adventure and similar but differently toned The Odessa File, we get some UK locations and proof that Walter Matthau has driven a Ford Escort and Rover SD1 and acted alongside ‘Bullet Baxter’ of Grange Hill fame and late and venerable George Baker.

Credulity is stretched to breaking point near the end but the film wraps up as it proceeded, whimsical and enjoyable. The acting by all involved is exactly what you need for this type of romp, although the good actors are not stretched, the locations and incidental music, different and interesting.

Overall, it is a Walter Matthau film, near the top of his game, playing a role made for him.

Hopscotch is a fine way to spend 106 minutes of anyone’s time.

Whether it was entirely deliberate or not Psycho Goreman is a long and detailed love-letter to cheap horror/gore films of the 1980s. The practical effects are not poor but equally not quite realistic enough to be brilliant, likewise idiosyncratic acting that is fun, memorable, and not poor, signposts the 1980s to viewers of a certain age. The main characters are both likable and unlikable at the same time but investing yourself in their lives and fates of them is not the hook the makers are hoping you hang your hat on. In fact, and this is not a criticism, if I had watched the film from the beginning without knowing anything about it all I would have guessed it was made around 1985 to the 1990s.

Much like those long-lost films of that time period, this film seems to dish out reasonably gruesome and very much bonkers deaths and bloodshed without it ever seeming unpleasant. Heads pop off and arms, liquefication, and bathtub loads of blood assail you regularly but unless you are young and should not be watching this film, or very sheltered and nervous, somehow this is just not going to really upset you and certainly not scare you.

The tone throughout is very light-hearted with the makers' tongue rammed firmly in their cheek. For the nostalgic viewer this makes the entire film enjoyable in a completely 'locked in the attic' way.

The practical effects and costumes give the whole feel of the film as solid and real and although it means some protagonists seem a tad cumbersome and inelegant that is the charm of what you are watching. CGI and filming effects are amazing but often can be sterile.

The acting, whilst never getting into the awards territory, is perfect for what is placed in front of you. I loved the direction Mimi takes, basically a spoilt, horrible child, it can be said that Nita-Josee Hanna is very stage-school in her performance, I like to think it was what she was aiming for as brat-like and probably worse than, or at least as bad as, Pyscho Goreman in her personality. The parents are nowhere in the Disney ballpark, with the father lazy beyond belief and the mother just putting up with it. I liked them.

I also had a soft spot for the gang of Psycho Goreman’s opponents who reminded my forcible of Power Ranger baddies, albeit baddies whose actions had real-world consequences including death and blood, but as I have said before the film was better for it not worse.

We bumble along to the end, with the joke of Psycho Goreman being trapped under the control of a sociopathic little girl stretched out for too long but the story wraps up cleanly and neatly with again everything not quite ending up Hollywoodised.

Once more a plus point.

If you are looking for a truly terrifying horror story with gore-filled horrifying monsters then Pyscho Goreman is not the film for you. But if you used to watch the ‘churn them out by the week’ horror films of the video-filled eighties then I am convinced that this 21st-century film was made with you in mind and with a huge dose of nostalgic enthusiasm.

I could be wrong – but it is how I viewed the film and how I enjoyed it.

Don Siegel famous for his hard-boiled and at that time ‘realisitic’ thrillers that often featured Clint Eastwood directed this hard-boiled and ‘realistic thriller in the seventies but instead of Eastwood, who turned down the role of hitman Mr. Molly, his main character was the mainly comedic actor Walter Matthau. It should not have worked but somehow the film and story do.

Made in 1973 and watched through the lens of 2023 there are many faults and hokey parts within but the film is not without charm and thrills and due to some good acting from the main actors it certainly drags itself above other fare from that time.

Matthau, who famously did not like the film, does not let this show in his performance and plays to his strong suit, he is laconic, easy going and intelligent. What you do not expect from world-weary-looking actor is a great deal of double-crossing and while actually not violent, the threat of violence, and menace which do lead to death and murder.

The casting and acting perfectly counterpoint this by having his major protagonists all being awful human beings, Andrew Robinson, so convincing as Scorpio in Dirty Harry that he got death threats, here is dialled down from that to ‘just’ being unthinking, greedy and selfish, traits which means he pays the ultimate price. Hunting down the robbers is Joe Don Baker who is pitch-perfect as the psychopath mafia hitman Mr. Molly. He plays it straight, no eye-swivelling over-the-top histrionics, the type of well-dressed, pipe-smoking large chap you would hardly notice walking down the street. After all if you are noticeably mad and behaved like a killer all day, it would not be hard to find you.

Top it all off and we have another former Siegel go-to the late great John Vernon, as the slimy, double-dealing, president of the bank and mafia frontman. Playing to his acting strength he steals every scene he is in and plays down, quiet, confident and realistic. A joy to watch.

Even the supporting characters, sheriffs, the weak-willed bank manager and double-dealing photographer Jewell Everett played with great skill by Sheree North are all at their best. Proving casting supporting characters is important and if your cast is good it will elevate any story you have on screen.

The film is based extremely loosely on The Looters novel (which does not focus on any one character and has no happy ending) is nothing original involving small-time crooks crossing the mafia. Charley Varrick was focussed on to give the audience someone to root for but herein lies that particular rub, Varrick, even played by Matthau, is not nice and I for one did not particularly care if he lived or died by the end. His wife and partners shot two policeman and a septuagenarian security guard just for what they thought was a few thousand dollars. Just because their adversaries were more corrupt and murderous than them does not make them ‘better’.

All-in-all the tale whips along and is fairly realistic and believable, especially for early 70s cops and robbers, but what was probably thought as a great twist and exciting denouement is the film’s weakest point and took me out of the story. Without spoiling it for any who have not seen this film I would say it looks as if the final act was written by an excitable 16-year-old boy in a hurry. Too easily wrapped up, formerly thoughtful and professional characters suddenly become dunderheads to allow a ‘happy’ ending.

A reasonably enjoyable film with a disappointing ending. Very 1970s so do not expect enlightened attitudes

Despite the quirky daftness of the film the overriding driver is friendship and loyalty. Wrapped up in oddity and utter silliness, after all David Earl, a staple of many Ricky Gervais productions, where he often plays disgusting, near-perverts, is the titular Brian but this time his oddness is a lot nicer. From this point all things in the tale grow. The underlying strength of the story is demonstrated by Charles, basically a pair of legs poking out of a huge square washing machine shape topped off by a virtually immobile mannequin head, who becomes a character that you invest in and care about. A fine skill by the actor and co-writer Chris Hayward.

It is clear director Jim Archer and the writers' Earl and Hayward, who play the main roles, invested seriously in the film so that you are effectively charmed and not alienated by it being utterly daft which to an extent it is. Then to top it off just to add some more charm, maybe even ladle some on, adding into the mix Hazel, sweet and socially awkward like Brian, played with some skill by Louise Brearly.

The drama in what would definitely be a slight and odd tale comes from the antagonists Eddie, his wife and twin daughters, embodying meanness, dishonesty and an external ever-present threat. Refreshingly it is this pressure that puts a strain on the ups and downs of Brian and Charles’ relationship and not the usual contrivance of a romantic partner doing this.

The film is neither taxing on your emotions or going to cause you to cry with laughter but making you gently smile for the majority of its runtime at the silly shenanigans framed amongst some stunning and inventive shots of remote Welsh countryside means, to be frank, it is a hard heart that sets against Brian and Charles.

Perhaps the faux documentary style is the weakest point and if you pay attention you have to ask – is this a faux documentary or a straightforward tale and what are the documentary makers filming and why? Throughout the film I was constantly ruminating that this was a construct so that David Earl could use his trademark fourth wall-breaking asides that are a trademark of his work with Ricky Gervais.

I concede this is a churlish point to make about a film such as this, when all we should take from this is no matter our disagreements, no matter our lifestyles, all are valid and none can override or overshadow true friendship. Being someone’s real friend is as close to choosing your family as you can get.

If that is not a good message to pass on to the masses I do not know what is.

Brian and Charles is slight, enjoyably silly and has the best robot since Twiki first looked at Gil Gerard and said 'biddie-biddie-biddie'.

The western world as we call it and in particular the USA and the UK are currently in the middle of a mawkish, naval gazing, nostalgia-fest. It is therefore completely understandable that art and in particular storytellers on the screen, both big and small, reflect this.

This time we step back into the seventies with distinctive and talented director Paul Thomas Anderson much in the same vein as Tarantino but without the dark and unpleasant streak that runs through his work. Anderson here has a lighter touch with a sense of fun and verve that only comes with the young who are not really sure about themselves or their direction in life.

Apparently drawing on the real-life stories of producer and sometime actor Gary Goetzman it is immediately striking that in general Anderson’s two main protagonists Gary and Alana are more confident and purposeful than many young lover types in this genre of films. It makes a refreshing change as, the spookily like his dad the much-missed Philip Seymour Hoffman, Cooper Hoffman, takes to the role convincingly in his big screen debut. Cheeky, full of confidence, and some swagger, this type of young character could be tremendously annoying in the wrong hands, in writing, directing and acting, but to everyone’s credit he is as likable as he is daft. No one is frightened of showing his jealousy and anger, not great characteristics in anyone, but to my mind, it balances him out as a normal if a little pushy human being.

Likewise, Alana, played by Alana Haim, apparently, a successful pop musician with her sisters is sketched out as a confident strong young woman who still shows weaknesses in her character by having her head turned by smarmy actors or getting unreasonably jealous of someone who ‘isn’t her boyfriend’ but this never diminishes her character. You feel, or indeed know, by the film's conclusion she will be okay.

Populate your film with accomplished actors in cameos, such as standouts Sean Penn as Jack ‘not William’ Holden and Tom Waits as Rex ‘not John Huston’ Blau and you have typical PTA fare.

The seventies are recreated in both the presentation and the looks in set design and clothing, as someone from that ear, albeit in the UK I admit, I would say that the folk involved in this should take a bow. Never once did I think – this is them pretending, it was the 1970s for me.

I never read other people’s reviews of films I have just watched until I have at least watched the film, and often after I have written my piece, but in this case, I did read some almost immediately after viewing. Why? Because I just knew most people would say ‘it doesn’t do anything’ or ‘there’s no story’ and on the whole I was completely correct.

For me that is the entire point, it is the film’s strong point. No one in this film, looks or behaves like an actor playing a role, looks perfect or has great hair, except the people playing film stars. To me the whole Rom Com conceit is laid low here, it is never easy or even fully clear cut and there is no story, just hundreds of little ones that add up and make your life. You can stop anywhere you want, your viewing stops, and the story goes on. Perfect for me.

The age difference between Hoffman’s and Hiam’s characters could be problematical if you are looking for something to really pick at, he being fifteen and Alana 25 and if it were reversed, a 15-year-old girl and a 25-year-old man – yikes, but Alana does question it, try to change and move away and at no point is it creepy. My wife is 12 years older than me but it has to be said we did not meet when I was at school.

Overall Licorice Pizza is a slice out of two people’s lives in their formative years. Neither cynical nor lyrical it sits in just the right place for me. I can see why some would baulk at the ‘romance’ between the two characters and the lack of narrative drive but the overall film pushes these concerns to the back for me.

It is entertaining fun.

Whilst the Lost City (of D) might have been elusive and hard to find the romantic, opposites attract story it is wrapped in is familiar with nothing you have not seen before over many years. Here is the problem, no matter your age and film-watching experience you have seen this done, many times. In fact, many times over the years starring Sandra Bullock who is the female lead and executive producer of The Lost City.

The brothers Adam and Aaron Nee jointly helmed the film, it would be fair to say this would be their biggest film with some serious A-listers in the cast. They also shared screenwriting with Orien Uziel and Dana Fox, so for good or bad their fingerprints are all over this film.

The film garnered some very positive reviews when it arrived in cinemas and some good PR so with the Blu-Ray dropping onto my doormat, I was looking forward to a light entertaining romp that would put me in mind of Romancing the Stone.

Perhaps it is my age, the specific time in my life, or just my increasing grumpiness but the overwhelming feeling of familiarity certainly diminished my enjoyment.

Comically the film is at its best when it introduces the main protagonists, Bullock playing the serious academic widower who wanted to write important serious works but ends up making a great living from trashy romantic potboilers is in her cinematic comfort zone, too comfortably if truth be told, and Channing Tatum increases his portfolio of dumbos-muscle bound jocks who turn out not to be – all safe and cosy. Supporting these main two we have Daniel Radcliffe bearded, suited and booted, the pleasant face of unapologetic nastiness, easily the best thing in the whole film, closely followed with a knowing wink and nod by Brad Pitt as the super-hero ex-special forces hippy Jack Trainer - a personal trainer. So far so good and it would seem great ingredients for a fun romp.

There is fun to be romped but it is all too familiar and where the laughs do come early these slowly turn into chuckles and snorts as we progress. Da'Vine Joy Randolph rolls up as, I am not kidding, the sassy black friend, well agent, who is really Loretta’s friend. Honestly, is this as far as we have got? There was no sassy gay friend I suppose. The role was pointless and purposeless and frankly Randolph’s comedic talents could have been used better. We also were treated, yet again to Channing Tatum’s buttocks once more, and ho-hoo Sandra Bullock’s character Loretta then has her breath taken away when she sees (we don’t) his presumably massive shlong when he forgetfully turns around sans trousers – it was sooooo funny I wondered why other film’s had not used this comic event in their stories….I will not touch on the chemistry between the leads either, because there was very little.

Although fun could be found throughout the running time, I was thinking do we really need another perilous situation romantic comedy again, and also does Sandra Bullock need to muscle in on male-movie-star-trope that does not need muscling in on? At 58 years old with a good catalogue and no mean influence in the industry does the well-established actor need to be playing a role like this?

If I am being a little mean, but ultimately honest, I was disappointed in the film and especially in the star who can turn her hand to most roles going back down a well-worn path to make a film that has to be exceptionally good to stand out from the thousands of others in the field.

It does not.

Recently I have seen a couple of films similar to this and I have to say from a British film viewer's perspective as a country we do seem to make these types of films very well. A plucky but eccentric underdog who goes up against the system and although they are not perfect, they somehow seem to win against all odds at least partially, despite setbacks and sometimes making themselves as much a barrier as those that really oppose them. All done with an underlying sense of fun and silliness – and then you find out it was based on real life.

Artistic licence will always come into play but it seems, usually, that the most ridiculous and unlikely sections of the film turn out to be closed to the fact. The real truth behind the story is perhaps not so poetic, Flitcroft only ever played in the qualifiers not the full Open but the ridiculous names and anger of the golfing establishment were too real. Regardless of this with Mark Rylance and Sally Hawkins as a pitch-perfect loving couple in your lead roles and an underdog does good and cocks his nose at the stuffed shirts.

The whole cast is having fun from the get-go with Rylance playing Flitcroft as an easy-going quiet man and his wife, the admirably Sally Hawkins is the loyal support behind the man regardless of his circumstances. To be balanced Flitcroft is not shown as entirely benign and wonderful, for instance, he upsets his upwardly mobile son and ends up living in a mobile home with his wife after losing his house. We have to be honest though the story is there to make you smile, laugh and feel good and this is what it does.

Simon Farnaby, who guests as a French professional golfer, co-wrote the original book and converted it into a screenplay. He is well known for Ghosts, Horrible Histories and is an actor who makes me laugh whenever he appears on the screen. I would go so far to say that his take on the story has injected his sense of fun and joy of absurdity along with a rebellious streak, it was already there in this tale but Farnaby along with the director and actors highlighted these components from beginning to end.

Happily, the story moves along at a quick pace, set pieces are economical and purposeful and we reach a joyful and emotional climax in a timely manner. That makes a nice change if nothing else.

No film is perfect but the writing, directing and acting here are effortlessly top-level meaning that we have another enjoyable and worthwhile daft story about true British eccentrics that deserves to be told and chortled at.

It is not historically accurate, it deliberately tugs at your heartstrings but at the final reckoning is it fun, will you like watching it for what it is, a daft character-driven piece about an obscure tiny period in British golfing history? The answer has to be yes.

How do I describe The Phantom of the Open?

It is the naughty twinkle in the eye of those who are messing with us and we know they are but just do not care.

For me it was hard to believe that this film was made in 1989, if you had said the early seventies on a low budget maybe, but when I think I was nearly 30 years old when this was made and it came well after some amazing science-fiction blockbusters? Such is the world of moviemaking.

I would hazard a guess that a majority of the budget went on Koenig, Campbell and Lombardi’s salaries because there is not a lot else on the screen that justifies any money being spent. Some have made a big thing of the practical effects but much like Dr. Who in the said seventies creating a great big ‘it is really there’ robot-monster on a minuscule budget means that it always, and when I say always, I mean always, stands still in an area whilst the actors prance around it to give the impression of kinetic energy. The Smash Mash Potato robot’s head moves jerkily as it supposedly ‘tracks’ the defenders, the arms moved up and down like a wind-up toy and the actors deliberately run into the superimposed lasers. Some effects are a little better but being cheap there is no feeling of life in them, nothing solid, real or scary. They are slow, Meccano-like and you feel if you skipped around behind one of them fast, pushed it hard it would collapse into a pile of nuts and bolts and bent metal pieces.

The protagonists are mainly the three bigger names with Koenig of Star Trek who at 52 was playing a rather unconvincing younger man, and Bruce Campbell, Bruce Campbelling his way through until about halfway when he probably got a better offer and left the project. Leigh Lombardi is the best of a poor three despite the paucity of material she was given and rather ludicrously becomes the love interest to the creaking Koenig.

Why ludicrous? Not because she was 20 years younger than Koenig, not because there clearly was no chemistry of that nature between the actors, or because she was an alien cryogenically frozen for thousands of years but mainly because in the middle of an invasion by a species that wanted to you use them and everyone on the nearest planet as a spare-parts bin getting it on with the first man you meet, even if it is Chekov from Star Trek, would be the last thing on your mind.

And herein lies the rub, everything is on this scale of silliness, you certainly can find it entertaining and I did laugh aloud at several moments but in the end you have the feeling that the makers' imagination and ambition far outweighed their budget and rather cruelly perhaps their ability.

Even with a much bigger budget Moontrap needed about three rewrites and some judicial editing to give it some semblance of any exciting, scary and action-packed sci-fi that it so desperately was trying to be.

As I said earlier I watched it and laughed but afterward, it did make me feel a little sad.

This film on paper must have seemed an easy hit. Nicolas Cage the actor more talked about in film circles than any other it would seem, a feature of many memes, a veteran of great films and awful films, playing himself in an action/adventure/comedy? Cannot miss the target.

Somehow in some way the makers did. Clearly, self-aware Cage has fun being ‘himself’ with a great element of film-star self-deprecation as he happily plays himself as a somewhat sad, egomaniac, but also endearing and trying his absolute best. This part works from my point of view, but the vehicle it is given to travel in is less than new and has a few faults, to say the least.

Everything works better when ‘Nic’ is being a bit of an unaware plonker to his daughter and ex-wife, Sharon Horgan moving up the ‘greasy pole’ I see,’ and being stuck with a mega-fan that he slowly comes to like but only because he likes the stuff Nic does. Everything falls down when we get the criminal underworld action adventure added to the mix. People are apparently tortured and die for goodness sake.

Nic is a self-centered conflicted actor, and just that, but by the end he is an action hero that saves the day. I may have misunderstood but seems to pander to a need to show the actor in the best light – it is almost as if meta is trying to be a meta of itself here.

The problem was the premise and indeed the trailers I saw for this film had me really looking forward to watching it but mediocrity far outweighed anything really groundbreaking.

Nicolas Cage clearly liked playing this version of himself and it works, there is clearly chemistry and a sense of fun playing alongside Pedro Pascal whose star has risen recently and deservedly so, he is easily the best thing in the film and lifts it to a level it does not deserve if I am being brutally honest.

Horgan the star of many British comedies in both acting and writing is not given enough to do here which is a shame and Sheen in her first film showing does as well as she can in a role that any young actor could have filled.

Filmed at beautiful locations with good actors in a fun premise it was never going to fail entirely and the first third, possibly two-thirds were fun, comedic and even a little believable if in a writ-large type of way. The let-down comes in the problematical action end of the film where everything gets so familiar and then neatly tied up.

A good effort, a great idea but overall, after getting into a great position the team shot well wide of the goal.

Nic Cage’s many fans and admirers will undoubtedly disagree with me.

Tatie Danielle is an interesting film, having no discernible stars works to its advantage proving a point I have made many times over the years, we all love to see a charismatic star taking us on a story but sometimes the opposite works. With Taite Danielle this is the case. With a list of unknown French actors – at the time - there is no distractions, the performance are as good as established stars and the ‘whole’ is strong. Tsilla Chelton gives a perfect show as the irascible and unpleasant Danielle with a young and relatively ‘unknown’ Isabelle Nanty showing her acting chops as her eventual foil.

The story presented here could easily have been a set of interlinking scenes of relentless unpleasantness with Chelton deliriously getting away with every over and over again. In fact, a recipe for eventual boredom. It is to Etienne Chatiliez’s credit that laughs are eked out from some frankly horrible situations. There is more than a passing nod to social satire and surprisingly tender and credible back story to a malicious and seeming irredeemable character. Admittedly you have to search for the ‘tender’ and I appreciate some will never find or see it but it is subtly weaved into the strands of the tale.

Building up the tension as good as any serious thriller the viewer can be forgiven for thinking perhaps Tatie Danielle will fizzle out but instead, we take a least a slight left bend in the road, if not a turn. A tragedy spoken of only once is the driver for a woman who lost her only love and thereby wants no love in her world, deliberately driving it out as much as he can, using cruelty, subterfuge and disdain. Nothing you can really like unless you like treating people badly as a hobby – I am fairly sure some people do.

I am not educated enough about French culture or family dynamics but it seems that Chatiliez and scriptwriter Florence Quentin taking digs at the middle-class French family and even though I did not fully understand it I did appreciate the humour in the situations. I did notice nearly everyone in the family is called Jean and as much as they behave kindly towards Danielle underneath they can be as crass and unthinking as her, if not deliberately.

Taite Danielle is by no means perfect and the ending seems a bit rushed and lakes the sharper edge of the early acts but overall this is black, black, mean-spirted comedy that has more heart than it is letting on, much like Tatie Danielle herself.

Directed by the late Roger Michell The Duke is a fine example of the type of film the British film industry makes well. Not so much nowadays but every now and then one of them pops up for our entertainment. A true story, that usually is in the spirit but not necessarily entirely accurate, about an event or person who fought against overwhelming odds to somehow win the day or at least the hearts and respect of the audience. Often infused with comedy throughout the story our hero will be flawed but charming and likeable and generally funny. It sounds cliched and awful written like this but when it is crafted well with a director, writers and actors who know what they are doing it nearly always works.

Such is the case with The Duke. The events shown happened, in fact a lot of the court case dialogue is true and the outcome of the case and the postscript confession is more or less how the story played out. Events have been compressed, Bunton was undoubtedly not as charming and lovable as skilfully portrayed by Broadbent and his wife was not around until the 1970s so we would have missed the hard-bitten working-class women turn from Helen Mirren if the film had been completely factual. Let us be honest where is the fun in that?

This rendition of an interesting footnote in sixties crime and obscure family story was approved by Bunton’s great-grandson, it is fun and likable and a wonderful way to spent 95 minutes of your time.

We are treated throughout the run time of glossy sixties-style side swipes to get us into that time period and alongside the drab grey aspect of the tiny house the Buntons lived in this works more than it fails. Jim Broadbent is on top form as the film focuses mainly on his cheerfully agitative character for most of the running time meaning he has to carry a lot of the film, luckily it is Jim Broadbent so all is safe. Ably supported by a very much ‘yang’ character of his wife played by Helen Mirren we get a possibly more realistic portrayal of the poor working class in that time period. Hardworking, proud, worn-down and tough Mirren just about saves what could be a relentless miserable character by showing a lighter more loving side to her persona as the film nears its end.

Matthew Goode and Anna Maxwell-Martin are in good form as another main staple for this style of film, the upper-middle-class toff who is surprisingly okay. You can justifiably shout ‘trite’ but somehow it feels comfortable and familiar yet not in an annoying ‘seen it all before way.’

CGI, Bradford and I believe Leeds fill in for 1960s London and Newcastle as filming on location in 2020 in those places just would not work any longer. Not being from the North I could not spot any errors or anything looking out of place and although the effects for London were a little obvious it was still decent work to get the feel for the settings.

The whole story whips along at a nice pace, never sags or gets baggy and is a welcome reminder of that well-made and entertaining stories about British eccentrics based on surprising truth are still being made and very well too.

Roger Michell is no longer with us but others will accept the batten and every now and then a slight but enjoyable gem will surface.

If nothing else The Duke is worth viewing for peak on-form Jim Broadbent and the court case dialogue which was apparently mostly what was actually said at the time. Recommended.

This is the original French version of The Man with One Red Shoe, or at least it strongly influenced the Tom Hanks starrer that I freely admit I cannot remember.

Certainly, going into the film with no preconceived ideas and not really knowing the type and style of film it was helped. What I found was a spoof of Le Carre-style espionage stories that funnily enough if you took out the comedic elements would have made an intriguing tale. As it is the comedy is there mainly from Richard’s Perrin whose gormlessness and accident-prone moments are surprisingly underplayed and do not spoil the broth.

This is not to say when Richard winds up to the physical comedy we do not get its magnificent pratfalls and silliness but they are self-contained and do not overpower the film or story for the entire running time. Mixed in with the more subtle relationship between the word weary Perrache, the excellent Paul Le Person, and his prissy and devious boss Toulouse, an equally lively and fun Jean Rochefort and your smile rarely leaves your face throughout the running time.

As I said though underneath the daftness there is an interesting if slight, spy story playing out that would have made a cool espionage movie. So much so the makers do not hide from death and the utter bastardy of the Secret Service. The beautiful Christine, played by the alluring and ultimately tragic Mirelle Darc is there to seduce and then hand over the unknowing Perrin to a sticky end. That she does not is part of the story.

Of course, we do get to see the much vaunted and now museum piece ‘bum cleavage’ dress which admittedly draped over Darc looks fine but really is very silly indeed.

The strength of this film, like so many I give my opinions on, is not the story or the writing, although that helps, it is the actors. Everyone involved give their best with Colonel Milan and Toulouse’s various hit and henchmen and women all playing straight and fleshing out what could be cardboard characters. In particular Perrin’s orchestra colleagues, and lover, played by Collette Castel and Jean Carmet compliment Richard as his ordinary and unknowing colleague, Carmet's comedy chops are on full display here, never too straight nor over-the-top but fully balanced as the cuckolded best-friend Maurice.

Overall The Tall Blonde Man with One Black Shoe is surprisingly fun for a slapstick spy comedy from nearly 50 years ago, Richard out-Benignis Benigini by dialling back from eleven and with dead-straight thriller threads weaved throughout the film, we have a good mix.

Certainly good enough to sit back, relax, take a look at French fashions and cars from decades back and laugh definitely strong enough to withstand a viewing many years later.

Simon Bird brought to the attention of the British public from The Inbetweeners and Friday Night Dinner amongst others, makes his directorial debut with Days of Bagnold Summer a slight, understated tale based on a popular graphic novel adapted by Lisa Owens. To say this is a typical comedic kitchen-sink coming-of-age drama is in itself an understatement. If any budding film reviewers or aficionados want to see the difference between a ‘typical’ British coming of age film and a US film then watch Days of Bagnold Summer with your favourite US film on the same topic.

Not only does the film underline the difference between the two filmmaking styles but in a broader more pompous sweeping statement you could say it does so for the countries' attitudes to a degree.

Nowhere in this film does anything huge or life-changing happen to any character. There is no big romance or broken-hearted schmaltz and syrupy sentimentality. Thus, some people viewing the film will say it is boring and ‘nothing happens’ but for me, that is the whole point. Relationships evolve organically and not at pivotal moments no matter what we are told in fiction and here Bird does this without explanation or signposting. It just so happens that Daniel and his mother have a different relationship than they did at the start of the story. Admittedly it seems a bit rushed and neatly packaged but let us face it where in 90-minute film territory here.

The sense of isolation is presented in the film with Bird using the house location interiors well, the ever excellent ‘very sensible’ Monica Dolan or convincingly miserable Earl Cave in the background framed by a door or window and the other in the foreground. In the same house but apart in so many ways. For a first-time and young director this is a confident and clever approach. There are some lovely long rang shots showing the characters as small and incidental to wider and larger backdrops which is a well-used film trick but here against the magnificent sweeping vistas of Bromley and the south London suburbs it brings a wry smile. It has to be appreciated the director and cinematographer, Simon Tindall, are working with a limited available palette and they do an impressive job.

The acting is British realistic if that were a style. Nothing flashy and each character has their own traits and personality that, as in real life, are stuck to. It could be said that Dolan’s Susan is a bit too sensible but from personal experience I would say not, I can remember teenage girls who were as sensible as that when I was a young lad. Equally, Cave’s Daniel could be said to be over the top although we have all probably either been that morose and miserable or have known pretentious kids who were like that, they may not necessarily have been our friends but I can conjure up a few like that from my memory as I sit here. So not as writ large as it seems.

Bobbing in out of the action are a roster of well-known British comedic talent with the peerless Alice Lowe dropping in as Susan’s more upbeat sister and Rob Brydon as a sort of love-interest teacher (I will not spoil the plot on this) and a brief but not unforgettable small cameo from the quirky and always strangely funny Tim Key.

Days of Bagnold Summer may not be ‘kitchen-sink’ realistic in its portrayal of middle-class suburban life but neither is it eye-rollingly dramatic and silly. Simon Bird shows an admirable restraint with sentimentality and audience handholding, some pet lovers may be taken aback, and even if the story semi-resolves a bit too easily and without an epiphany for any character I would say this slight tale is worth 90 minutes of your time.

The first two-thirds of this film are obviously a pastiche of gangster gang movies and musicals. It is clear that Takashi Miike does not want you to take the dance routines or gang-fighting seriously and as such overall it works, even for me, although I found it hard to see the humour in some of the set pieces thinking them just cheesy but not intentionally cheesy, so to my thinking that means Miike got it wrong - well for my sensibilities anyway.

The huge hump in the road though is that the musical numbers and parody seem to disappear in the final third of the film which becomes an anchor around the running time and sucks any fun you might have been having from the film, making it dull and a bit grey to watch.

The fight sequences, whilst never meant to be realistic, start to become a porridge of ‘ooffs’ and ‘aaahs’ as various folk queue up to get battered – again. The ragged choreographed dance sequences are few and far between as the film progresses and although camp and bit bizarre the absence of them as the film winds down takes what sheen there is off the film.

Like a lot of Takashi Miike films there is a huge element of self-indulgence and definitely a certain sense of humour that he works with, if it misses you then the chances are you will be bored to tears shortly after the start, if you can tolerate the self-indulgence you will watch to the end, and if you love Miike’s output you will love this addition.

As a parody of certain Japanese genres, I will admit I was mainly baffled as my knowledge of these topics is not strong. Was the leering almost upskirt shots of the women in the standard Japanese schoolgirl uniforms and statement or just standard? The dangerously paedophilic atmosphere at the ‘bar,’ was that a statement or just the norm for these types of films? It got a bit too voyeuristic for me and close to up-skirting at times. Clearly, the lack of understanding of where the director’s intentions lie is with me, but I did feel uncomfortable at times in sections that were meant to be quick plot points and just there for laughs, not controversy.

The acting is overegged for the type of story although I did feel that Satoshi Tsumabuki was not charismatic enough for the role of the bad-boy, generally though everything was fine in this department. The choreography was loose, but I believe this was deliberate with the director not wanting perfect tip-top dance moves, the songs were interesting and odd and obviously added postproduction in ADR which adds another surreal level to the viewing.

The settings were so chalk and cheese and on the nose that it had to be satire. The prep school being as preppy as possible and the college looking as if it was a surplus set from Mad Max. A bit too over the top for me, a sledgehammer to crack a nut.

For Love’s Sake is not a film for everyone, perhaps it is for a narrow band of manga and Miike aficionados but for the average movie watching it might be a Japanese step too far. For me, I am glad I watched it, but I would not go out of my way to watch it again.

A Takashi Miike film that is a tad quirky and strange? Surely not!