Most films have a reputation of one kind or another, even if it’s only in certain circles and you have to go searching to find it. I suppose Conan’s is best summed up by its status on iCheckMovies: it appears on one official list, the 500 Essential Cult Movies; a list of films so cult-y, I’ve only seen 98 of them. So it’s not a film of great critical acclaim, or box office success; heck, it’s not even on the Empire 500, which surprised me because I’d always thought it was fairly popular — I mean, they bothered to remake it!
You may recall I didn’t care for the remake. Nothing new in that. Unfortunately, I didn’t much care for the original either.
Actually, that’s a mite unfair. I watched the film in two halves, and while the first almost bored me (to be blunt, I fell asleep halfway through; though it wasn’t wholly the film’s fault), the second was more entertaining. The first is episodic, a series of near-disconnected sequences telling Conan’s life story. Towards the middle, the last few of these coalesce into a series of events that drive the film into a proper narrative, which takes us through to the end.
John Milius, directing and co-writing (with, of all people, Oliver Stone), chooses to play much of the film with very little dialogue. It’s a striking effect that often pays off, both creating a sense of an epic story passed down the ages (how often, if someone tells you a tale from myth or legend, is there dialogue?), and minimising the potentially negative effects of his cast. For all his skill as an action man, Arnie is hardly a great actor. 
The guy doing the voiceover narration is godawful though, and there’s far too much of him. It’s never made clear why he’s the one telling the story either, unless I missed it.
Telling the story visually allows Milius to conjure up some fantastic visuals on occasion. The murder of Conan’s mother is a particularly striking moment, as is the way Conan is aged from preteen moppet to muscly Arnie mere minutes later. A giant temple teeming with disciples offers multiple instances for impressive shots, the huge set and numerous extras creating a sense of scale that CGI will never match. Then there are the action sequences, again somehow heightened without people yelling meaningless nothings at each other. Conan and friends raiding the temple to rescue the princess, and the subsequent graveyard battle, are two particular standouts.
In places the film has aged badly. It looks more ’70s than ’80s, which considering it’s from the start of the decade shouldn’t be a surprise. Not that that’s a problem, just an observation, albeit one that perhaps emphasises age. Much of it looks good, but for every expertly-realised giant snake there’s the two villainous henchman who look like Spinal Tap rejects.
Most of the film is actually a well-realised fantasy landscape (shot in Spain, which I think helps — America always somehow looks like America on screen, whether it’s doubling for a fantasy world or an alien planet or even just another country), but those two kicked me out of it every time they showed up.
My initial assessment of Conan was possibly a bit harsh, born of finding the first half of the film a struggle. The second half, while not perfect, has much more to commend it. The film ends with a “there’s much more story to be told” epilogue (even though the film tells a complete tale in itself — take note, present franchise filmmakers!), which does lead me to want to see the sequel, even if those who love even this hate it. We’ll (and by that obviously I mean “I’ll”) see.
* There are goodness-knows-how-many different versions of Conan. I watched one of them. (I think it was fairly uncut though). ^
Time flies: this is 13 years old! Originally a Jim Carrey vehicle (feels obvious once you know), Ben Stiller is the prospective son-in-law meeting Teri Polo’s parents (Robert De Niro, Blythe Danner) for the first time. Disaster ensues in a riot of unfortunate events targeting our hapless hero.
John Cusack stars as literary giant (figuratively) Edgar Allan Poe in this wannabe-Victorian-
That they didn’t tone it all down just a smidge to match, and so go for the box office-friendly PG-13, is a surprise in these days.
The rest of the cast are from Hollywood’s usual go-to for period tales: Brits; if not entirely then mostly so. (The film was shot in Hungary and Serbia, so I suppose our thesps have the additional advantage of being geographically favourable to Americans.) You know you’re getting a level of quality there, then, though for me Kevin R. McNally lets the side down (again). He’s only a supporting character and is fine most of the time, but there’s one bit when he’s talking to the lead detective and just rattles off his line… It’s not the world’s greatest speech, but you can hear there was meant to be more nuance and quiet in there.
Se7en is probably my favourite film ever made, but criticisms that it’s quite a standard detective mystery are not invalid. It’s enlivened by Andrew Kevin Walker’s writing (great dialogue, engrossing structure, etc), some top-drawer performances (Freeman, Pitt, a loopy-calm Spacey), and, probably most of all, David Fincher’s inestimable touch. In making such a comparison it’s easy to see that The Raven lacks any of these, which renders it a solid period mystery, but no more.
Bill Murray presumably needed some money, otherwise why else voice the titular food-loving sort-of-fourth-wall-breaking moggy in this juvenile adaptation of the long-running newspaper strip? Offering little in the way of laughs, the film’s main success is the cute (real) dog who co-stars as Garfield’s competriot, Odie. The real wonder is how they got him to interact with the CGI cat. Elsewhere, animals are live-action with CG mouths, giving an unsettled presentation of the film’s four-legged characters. Meanwhile, humans Breckin Meyer and Jennifer Love Hewitt engage in a charmless romantic subplot. Oddly, one for dog lovers (with fast-forward to hand) only.
Batman movies have a habit of provoking strong reactions. 
One of the main reasons the film succeeds is that look back at Bruce Wayne’s early days as a crime fighter. Batman’s origin is oft told — too oft, truth be told — but they thankfully don’t rehash it here. Instead, early in Batman’s career Bruce falls in love and finds happiness, causing him to question whether to continue down the path he’s already dedicated his life to. The scene where he talks to his parents’ grave, expressing his guilt at potentially finding happiness after so much mourning, is one of the most powerful, emotional moments in all of Batman’s many iterations.
But instead of falling in some nasty halfway-house, Phantasm turns up trumps on all fronts.
Shortly after I watched Tinker Tailor, it was announced that they (“they” in this instance being Working Title, I think) are planning a new film adaptation of Daphne du Maurier’s perennially popular novel Rebecca. This news was greeted (at least on the websites where I read it) with cries in the comments along the lines of, “you can’t remake Hitchcock!” Such is the power of 
Yet, for all that, the film is excellent. It may not match the TV series in places, in my subjective opinion, but in its own right it shines. Gary Oldman does the impossible and offers a Smiley that is neither an imitation of Guinness’ nor a deliberate counterpoint, but stands apart as an equally proficient rendering of the character. The rest of the cast are equally up to task, with the exception of Kathy Burke, who stands out like a sore thumb in my opinion.
Another noteworthy advantage of the film is that it’s gorgeously shot. The TV series actually has its own appeal in this area, with a realism that is quite pleasing. The film occasionally goes grander (look at the depiction of meeting rooms in The Circus for a major example — while the TV series goes for any old room in Whitehall, the film offers stonking soundproof ‘pods’), but it works in its own way.
From the director of Oscar Wilde adaptation 
Two of them are very nearly inspired: a 
Apparently Ben Miller, English’s sidekick from the original adverts and first movie, filmed a cameo that was ultimately cut. A lot of people seem moderately upset about that on forums. I like Miller, but to be honest I’d forgotten he was in the first one.
#17 Final Destination 5 (2011)
This honour was widely seen as recognising the whole trilogy, and really my inclusion is for the same reason — I love all the Lord of the Rings films, but if I had to pick a favourite it would be Fellowship. That The Hobbit didn’t get anywhere near the Best Picture nods this season gives it a faint ring of The Godfather Part III: belated and misguided. Though even Coppola’s threequel got a nomination.
Speak of the devil… I really need to re-watch the Godfather trilogy, so I can’t offer much insightful comment, but I’m one of those people who sides with Part I being better than Part II. I found Michael’s descent into the family more engaging than… what, his consolidation of power? Is that what happened? (I really do need to re-watch them.) Plus, you can’t beat a bit of Brando.
I love an epic — indeed, the average length of my three choices so far is 2 hours 34 minutes — and in many respects Gone with the Wind is the ultimate epic, a tale that sprawls through time and across locations, but with the relationship between two individuals at its heart. And it beat The Wizard of Oz to the prize, which is a bonus.
As with The Godfather, I need to re-watch this. It was one of the first Westerns I saw and I think it would benefit from the improved understanding of the genre I now have. Equally, it was instrumental in transforming a type of film I’d previously ignored (not through any conscious effort) in to one I enjoy. (There’s a whole article to write on modern mass perception of Westerns, but that’s for another day.)
For all the talk of the Academy always getting it wrong, there are numerous times they’ve got it right. Or, at least, near as dammit. Which made choosing just five hard, but I’ve chosen this to try and balance things out — I don’t only like epics that mostly feature some kind of war (this was very nearly Schindler’s List). Woody Allen on form is great fun, and this is that. I liked Manhattan more though.
There’s a lot of love for this movie in some circles — it’s ranked 
We’ve had the Saint in New York, in London, and in Palm Springs; soon we’ll have the Falcon in Mexico, in Hollywood, and in San Francisco; but here, he’s just in danger. He’s also in perhaps the best film either series has offered to date.
Though the Falcon clearly agrees with everyone else’s assessment and shrugs her off as often as he can, to our benefit.
