Set at the death of the samurai age, Japanese master Nagisa Oshima's first feature in 13 years charts the disruption of a militia barracks by the arrival of Ryuhei Matsuda's androgynously beautiful young swordsman. A partial return to the erotic obsession of In The Realm Of The Senses, it's a bleak but mesmerically beautiful movie where realism balances with dreamy stylisation.
Sean Penn has done many good things, and none of them can be found in this sentimental guff. As Sam, he's an autistic who, with the help of saintly lawyer Michelle Pfeiffer, tries to prove he's a fit father to his daughter. It's manipulative, dishonest, and wreaks carnage on The Beatles' songbook. Penn was Oscar-nominated. You have to laugh.
Golden boy Sam Mendes' less-than-feelgood follow-up to American Beauty suffered a critical backlash, but its daringly gloomy photography (by the late Conrad Hall) is often breathtaking. An unsmiling Tom Hanks' hitman-with-a-heart is underwritten, but a wrinkly Paul Newman still oozes charisma and Jude Law's credibly sinister. A surprisingly bleak, long dark night of the soul.
New Yorker Carter Burwell scored Velvet Goldmine, which would be a coincidence (see above) if I didn't diligently plan these things ahead. He's also done most of the Coens' movies and, as he beautified Being John Malkovich, lands the return gig on the new Jonze-Kaufman headfuck. His new-school, indie sensibilities show from the dark opening title piece (remixed by Fatboy Slim), and he relishes working with titles like "The Slough Pit Of Creation" and "The Unexpressed Expressed" (who wouldn't?).
