127 Hours (dir. Danny Boyle, 2010) I'm still so impressed Danny Boyle made a feature length film about Aron Ralston - because you know what happens. And well, everything but nothing happens. Aron gets his arm trapped under a rock and waits five days before he amputates it. There, I have ruined it for you. But 127 Hours never slows down. Somehow I still feel there was something missing and it wasn't the epic that I was in part expecting, but there are some exsquisitely composed visuals, gorgeous colour palettes and the soundtrack is typically Boyle.
Jackass Number 2 (dir. Jeff Tremaine, 2006) It's ironic I recorded this and found it on my Sky+ the day one of the crew members is reported dead. What can you say about this other than it's Jackass and if you have even the slightest weak stomach, give it a miss. I noticed a number of the stunts are exactly the same to Dirty Sanchez, I'm not however sure which came first. Dirty Sanchez remains my favourite though.
The Wicker Man (dir. Robin Hardy, 1973) An ex-tutor recommended this as one of the best British horror films. The Wicker Man tells the story of a stauntly Christian police officer who travels to a small, self-contained island in Scotland, investigating the reporting of a missing girl. Sounds simple enough, but it quickly turns nothing short of surreal with pagan-esque anthems, naked women dancing around fires chanting for virgin births, and children being taught how maypoles are phallic symbols. One of those completely non-graphic horrors that still manages to engage the hairs on the nape of your neck.
The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes (dir. Billy Wilder, 1970) Yes, I am a raging Sherlock Holmes fangirl so you might not take this seriously, but this is one of the best films I've seen for a long time. The Private Life is not based on any Conan-Doyle original story, but travels a typical "investigation" narrative thread and uses it to parody and explore that relationship between Holmes and Watson. Hilariously funny and it never takes itself too seriously, but all those Holmesian ticks are kept warm by the brilliant Robert Stephens and Christopher Lee. This satisfied everything I love about Sherlock Holmes - "Watson this is a very small flat, we don't want to clutter it up with women!"
Bonnie & Clyde (dir. Arthur Penn, 1967) Bonnie & Clyde is notorious as having one of the bloodiest death scenes in film. The death toll of the film as a whole is nothing to be sniffed at either. Bullet holes and face shots. Faye Dunaway's style is flawless.
The Astronaut's Wife (dir. Rand Ravich, 1999) Johnny Depp is quite honestly the only redeeming factor of this. I felt confused by the fact all the real action happens in the first 10 minutes and even then you don't see anything. But it appears this is the point. You then have to spend the next 90 minutes bored, staring at Depp's beautiful but psychotic face, wondering along with his wife who the hell he is supposed to be. This seems to be a drama film, with the odd sci-fi bit throw in. Felt disjointed. Bored.
Smithereens (dir. Susan Siedelman, 1982) Female director - sold. Main protagonist 19 year old Wren is obsessed with fitting into the rock and roll scene of 1980's New York, but she has a problem - she doesn't really know anyone, she's utterly selfish and abrupt, and she can't play instruments or write songs. She is a walking creative draught. Maybe that's why I kind of liked her - she represented that typical angst of just not knowing what you're meant to do with your pathetic existence. Not having the means or knowledge to make your dreams come true...
Submarine (dir. Richard Ayoade, 2010) Richard Ayoade, just when I thought you couldn't do better, you go and make this lovely British independent film. Good work. With that boy from Tracy Beaker. And an original Alex Turner soundtrack. Welsh accents and secondary school tales. These things will never get old.
The Godfather (dir. Francis Ford Coppola, 1972) I apologise in advance here because from what I understand, I am currently residing within a minority. I am so disappointed with The Godfather that is pains me. It may just be the Mafia theme which I've never had the slightest interest in in my life. Not even the "greats" Marlon Brando and Al Pacino could make that 2 hr 55 min easier for me, not that there performances weren't admirable. I was bored. I couldn't keep up with the death toll and random Italian-American characters who walked in and then disappeared again, not to be seen for the rest of the film. There seemed to be unexplained jumps in time without any proper signifiers. Maybe I just didn't concentrate enough, maybe this needs a second viewing, but I can't think of anything less appealing right now. I am so sorry. Did I really miss something? edit: my dad aged 19 thought kind of the same thing. My opinion is legit.
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