Slow-burning, eventually gripping Canadian study of gambling addiction starring Philip Seymour Hoffman. His bank clerk commits massive fraud to fund high-roller trips to Vegas and Atlantic City, while girlfriend Minnie Driver's left in the dark. As comeuppance looms nearer, Hoffman's a junkie for one more roll of the dice. Well worth a flutter.
This storm-tossed 1937 gem was the first flowering of Michael Powell's nearmystical vision of the British landscape. It tells of the death of one tiny, remote Scottish island, as young folk abandon old ways for the mainland, but Powell's cinematic treatment of the scudding light and shade of nature—part raw, heroic documentary, part mythic poem—raises the stakes to infinity and beyond. Magic realism, indeed.
That rarest of things: a film about a racehorse that'll run and run. In the mid-'30s, Seabiscuit was an unlikely loser turned winner, trained by a too-tall jockey (Tobey Maguire), a distressed millionaire (Jeff Bridges) and a jaded cowboy (Chris Cooper). Gary (Pleasantville) Ross, who also wrote, directs the three actors (and the horses) without excessive mushiness.
Oh dear. This blue-chip Stephen King adaptation (written by William Goldman, directed by Lawrence Kasdan) starts well but then transforms into an unwatchable mess. One of those terrible movies you just have to see to figure out where it went wrong. Highlights: fine ensemble work from Thomas Jane, Damian Lewis, Jason Lee and Timothy Olyphant. Lowlight: Morgan Freeman's worst ever screen performance.
As most high-minded critics were correct to point out on its cinema release, Bad Boys 2 is crude, noisy, relentlessly violent and often in the worst possible taste. Did they also mention that it's ridiculously entertaining, with hilarious turns from Will Smith and Martin Lawrence, and that when it comes to putting on this kind of show, director Michael Bay displays an unstinting genius for widescreen mayhem? Probably not.
Confused and rather dull boy-loses-girl story which inexplicably got some pant-wetting reviews. The greatly admired David Gordon Green loosely introduces us to the small-town Romeo and younger college girl who fall in love, only for her brother to kick up a rumpus and for her to break hearts. It's all wilfully vague and indecisive, and her infidelity doesn't make sense. Terrence Malick meets Dawson's Creek.
Angst on the farm in the debut from young French auteur Damien Odoul, a simultaneously harsh and dreamlike account of the coming of age of Pierre-Louis Bonnetblanc, a confused, alienated teen trapped on his uncle's dilapidated spread, where older farmhands introduce him to liquor and mannish ways, with ruinous results. Shot in pristine monochrome, it's a memorable experience, aiming, albeit a little self-consciously, toward a surreal poetry.
This is a workmanlike, halfway-successful attempt to consolidate charmless lunkhead Vin Diesel's status as the action star of the moment. Actually, he's not half bad as the widowed (and therefore vengeful) narcotics agent Sean Vetter, but veteran action director F Gary Gray (The Negotiator) is absolutely treading water. Best saved for a Friday night when you've got nothing else to do.
A collaborative highpoint for director Wong Kar-Wai and cinematographer Chris Doyle. Happy Together's account of two gay Hong Kongers (Tony Leung and Leslie Cheung) adrift in Buenos Aires is one of the most visually striking films ever made, sadly only denied masterpiece status by the vagaries of Wong's leisurely narrative pacing.
