Not a genre Uncut features heavily, but the previous volume was one of the biggest-selling soundtrack-related CDs of recent years. It's an excuse to bung together top hits from everything from Grease to Charlie's Angels, but the real reason it's here is because by a fluke it includes, among 40 tracks, a run of about 10 which would make my Desert Island Discs—or 31 Songs, as we're now calling the concept.
Slick odd-couple blockbuster which sees secret service grandee Anthony Hopkins forced to team up with street-punk Chris Rock in Prague as a nuclear bomb in a suitcase goes up for sale. Jerry Bruckheimer ensures the noisy pace never lets up; an anarchic Rock plays it strictly for laughs and a horizontal Hopkins looks mighty bored. Great stuff, all the same.
Not as astute or ambitious a satire of "reality TV" as Series 7: The Contenders, but Marc Evans' house-of-horror, shot on webcam, hosts a rattling good scary yarn. If the kids stay in the creaky pad for six months they win a million, but as Davina day looms, things get gory. A superior, if pretentious, genre piece.
Audrey Tautou's wide-eyed, innocent expressions are subverted cleverly in this Gallic romance-mystery. Hints of Hitchcock, but a mention of Memento's inevitable, as we see the story first through her eyes, then through those of the object of her amour fou, Samuel Le Bihan. Doesn't soar, but studded with scenes both picturesque and psychologically taut.
