Reviews

Classic frat-rock spanning 1964-66

Killer whodunnit thriller couples smart noir with plenty of blood

Wim Wenders may be struggling to land a gig these days, but this 1977 noir thriller was his big-screen breakthrough. Adapted from Patricia Highsmith's novel (and remade this month as Ripley's Game, see p145) it finds Dennis Hopper for once understated as art dealer Tom Ripley, who persuades dying Berliner Bruno Ganz to become a hitman.

John Milius' deeply personal take on the surf generation of the '60s is everything you'd expect from Hollywood's last great iconoclast. It's a sumptuous visual feast, an epic journey charting the testosterone-packed lives of three surfing buddies (Jan-Michael Vincent, William Katt and Gary Busey) and an unbelievably heavy-handed extended metaphor, as the ebb and flow of the tide is mirrored in our heroes' lives.

Riffing on early David Mamet or Neil LaBute, writer-director Patrick Stettner's superb three-hander anatomises the airless, amoral culture of top-rank executives. In a faceless airport hotel, high-flyer Stockard Channing plays sadistic sex-and-power games with young business rival Julia Stiles and corporate headhunter Frederick Weller. Sharp, astringent, and proof that complex ideas and strong performances transcend even minimal budgets.

Having met at Leicester Music College in 1998 and formed early last year, The Havenots are Sophia Marshall and Liam Dullingham, two young pups (20 and 22) whose smoke-weary delivery belies their tender years. Informed by Gram/Emmylou, Gillian Welch/David Rawlings and Uncle Tupelo, this is gentle smoulder for the most part, all languid, punt-down-the-river melodies and mountain-air acoustic guitars (courtesy of Samuel Harvey).

Southern soul revived with passion

Over-cooked debut from Robbie Robertson-discovered Southern belle

This full length debut of music box chimes ("Both Mirror And Armour"), sampled Japanese folk songs ("Sakura", "Takeda") and proggy Vangelis-inspired electronics (everything else) has a neo-pastoral charm which, at face value, would align it closely with the output of labels like Memphis Industries and Tummy Touch.

Intelligent heartbreak pop