Buckling under the weight of expectation inherent in all 'New Latin Cinema' (this isn't City Of God), El Crimen still has another deft performance from movement poster-boy Gael García Bernal as the eponymous priest in forbidden lust scandal. The film also has a keen eye for the ritualised sexualisation at the heart of Catholicism (the Virgin Mary, the semi-naked Christ etc). Familiar, but intriguing.
Compilation of documentary, videos and live footage marking the 35th anniversary of the Krautrockers. Though their backgrounds were in jazz and classical, they blasted rock into the future via its first principles through repetitive, improvised sessions. This DVD has live material from Cologne and a '76 slot on TOTP playing their one hit, "I Want More". The live footage is irretrievably '70s in its visual mixture of the garish and dismal but the music's way out and beyond. Interviews confirm the cerebral underpinning of this most deceptively primal of bands.
Chaplin's work is a strange blend of clinical perfectionism and cloying sentimentality, and though there's no denying that his timing is impeccable and his constant quest for innovation is impressive, whether you find him funny or not is another matter. This box contains all 10 of his feature films, plus a lengthy new documentary.
The versatile Stephen Frears merits much praise for presenting a side of London life which is usually swept under rugs. Illegal immigrants work demeaning jobs round the clock to stay afloat, and are routinely exploited—right down to their internal organs. The heroic Chiwetel Ejiofor and an arguably miscast Audrey Tautou lead this worthy, intriguing drama with a macabre twist.
Patchy, visually flashy remake by Neil Jordan of his favourite film, Melville's classic Bob Le Flambeur. Its art-robbery-scam story's all over the place, in truth, but Nick Nolte proves to be a wildly compelling force of nature as he kicks heroin, woos a young girl and beats casinos at their own game, all the while looking like he hasn't slept for a very taxing fortnight.
This strange, haunting film follows a middle-aged man who arrives in a remote Mexican village where he plans to commit suicide. Heavily indebted to Tarkovsky, the film strains for arthouse credibility with pretentious religious symbolism and achingly slow pace. Still much of the imagery is arresting, and its glimpses of rural life are raw and underpinned by an earthy comedy.
The definitive Hollywood western, George Stevens' Shane has inimitable narrative momentum, rolling effortlessly from the introduction of Alan Ladd's buckskin dandy to the initial saloon tensions ("You talking to me?") and the epic punch-up, through the homesteader murder and the final confrontation with Jack Palance's beguiling assassin. Magnificent.
Insane collision of thriller and farce, with a kidnapping plot played at volume 11 and cast by a person on amyl. Kevin Bacon and Courtney Love are the bad couple, Charlize Theron and Stuart Townsend the goodies. Charlize attacks Kev with a scalpel hidden down her knickers, but is still less raving bonkers than Courtney. Gloriously dreadful.
Terry Gilliam's epic 1991 fable has both admirers and detractors: it now seems ambitious, unique and charming. The superb Jeff Bridges is a burned-out DJ who's at first irritated then revitalised by oddball visionary tramp Robin Williams and his hallucinatory Arthurian quests. The latter's hyper-babbling (like the director's flourishes) holds because Bridges is so magnificently solid and believable.
