
a day written in history
a day when innocence died
when truth was sacrificed
and lives were changed forever
Country: UK & Ireland
Language: English
Runtime: 110 minutes
BBFC: 15
MPAA: R

Original Release: 20th January 2002 (UK)
First Seen: TV, 20th January 2002

Stars
James Nesbitt (Millions, The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey)
Tim Pigott-Smith (The Remains of the Day, V for Vendetta)
Nicholas Farrell (Chariots of Fire, Hamlet)
Kathy Kiera Clarke (The Most Fertile Man in Ireland, Cherrybomb)
Director
Paul Greengrass (United 93, Captain Phillips)
Screenwriter
Paul Greengrass (The Murder of Stephen Lawrence, United 93)

The Story
Derry, Northern Ireland, 30th January 1972: MP Ivan Cooper leads a peaceful march to protest internment. British paratroopers observing the march, geed up after previous conflicts, respond to minor rioting by shooting into the unarmed crowd and at fleeing civilians.

Our Hero
James Nesbitt stars as MP and civil rights activist Ivan Cooper, a Protestant who was elected in a mostly Catholic constituency, and the organiser of what was supposed to be a peaceful protest march.
Our Villains
The British Army don’t come across in the best light, with Tim Piggot-Smith’s Major General Robert Ford issuing hostile orders, and the troops eager for a fight. The depiction is tempered by Nicholas Farrell as Brigadier Patrick MacLellan, battling his conscious even as he must carry out his orders.

Memorable Quote
“I just want to say this to the British Government. You know what you’ve just done, don’t you? You’ve destroyed the civil rights movement, and you’ve given the IRA the biggest victory it will ever have. All over this city tonight, young men — boys — will be joining the IRA, and you will reap a whirlwind.” — Ivan Cooper
Memorable Scene
After the day is done, Ivan Cooper delivers the above statement at a press conference. Intercut, at inconspicuous locations and under the cover of dark, young men queue up to join the IRA.
Technical Wizardry
Shot handheld on 16mm by cinematographer Ivan Strasburg, Bloody Sunday looks like news footage. It’s not trying to pass itself off as documentary, but rather it places the viewer in the heart of events. Clever shot selection and Clare Douglas’ editing mean that, even though a sense of confusion is evoked, the chronology and geography of events is maintained.

Making of
“Making the film Bloody Sunday was important for me, not only as an actor but for my understanding of myself as an Ulsterman. It helped me realise that this episode was the watershed, and that the ensuing 30 years of conflict in Northern Ireland were in large part due to what happened that day in 1972. For it was on that night that young men all over the country joined up with the IRA in a sense of rage and injustice at what had happened.” — James Nesbitt, The Independent

Awards
1 BAFTA TV Award (Photography and Lighting)
4 BAFTA TV Award nominations (Actor (James Nesbitt), Single Drama, Editing, Sound)
2 British Independent Film Awards (Actor (James Nesbitt), Director)
3 British Independent Film Award nominations (Best British Independent Film, Screenplay, Technical Achievement (Cinematography))
4 Irish Film and Television Awards (Feature Film, Director, Script, Sound)
4 Irish Film and Television Award nominations (Actor (James Nesbitt), Actress (Kathy Kiera Clarke), Photography, Editing)
Won the Golden Bear at the Berlin International Film Festival (tied with Spirited Away).

What the Critics Said
“you have to remind yourself at moments that you’re not looking at a documentary. […] Filmed in 16mm, with a hand-held camera that seems to be breathlessly attempting to keep up with the chaotic events, the movie has a stunning immediacy. It doesn’t feel as if Greengrass has staged the events, but that his camera (in the expert hands of cinematographer Ivan Strasburg) happened to be there when the tragedy occurred, a witness to the British officers’ planning, to the marchers’ anger and panic, to the soldiers’ gung-ho macho and to the cover-up that followed.” — David Ansen, Newsweek
What the Public Say
“The film has been criticized by some as focusing too much on the Cooper character, encouraging a “great man” view of history. This criticism seems overblown when one considers the breadth of Bloody Sunday, but Greengrass does acknowledge an interest in placing Cooper at the fore as a kind of “man between worlds,” being a Protestant politician campaigning for peace across Northern Ireland and for civil rights denied to his Catholic countrymen.” — spinenumbered, Make Mine Criterion!
(Be advised, the Criterion Collection edition of the film described in this article is wishful thinking rather than a genuine release.)

Bloody Sunday is a tough film to write about in a somewhat frivolous format like this one. It’s a film about a terrible moment in history, a shameful day for the British Army and a tragic one for the people of Northern Ireland, which it presents with documentary realism and an objective perspective, more concerned with presenting the facts as best it can than with apportioning blame. Even given that, it’s an inescapably emotional and affecting film. Powerful moviemaking.


#15 will be… extreme ways.
A woman wakes up on a beach in the middle of the night. Stumbling away, she comes across a beach house with three strangers inside. They establish that the last thing they remember was being in a nightclub when there was some kind of accident, and then they woke up here. Fortunately, they’re not stupid and quickly twig this place is some kind of afterlife, then begin to work out how to get out — not that they’re helped by the lighthouse beam which causes immense pain, or that if they run away from the house they end up back at the house, or the vicious smoke-monster that’s flying around…
AfterDeath is billed in part as a horror, emphasised by the skull imagery used on the poster. It’s not particularly scary though, so if you’re after that kind of thrill then it’s one to miss. As single-location mysteries go, it’s not remarkably original or exceptionally engaging, but the story and its revelations are solidly executed and the whole is decently performed, providing you don’t strain your eyes trying to see what’s happening.

The 24th official James Bond movie had a funny old ride on its cinema release a few months ago. It started well, with near-universal praise from UK critics; audience reaction was more mixed but erred towards the positive; then US critics tore into it, and US audiences (as usual) followed suit. The latter seems to have become the more accepted view, with the consensus seemingly that it’s decent enough, but a definite step down from the high of
Spectre, to put it bluntly, pulls a
retaining the same general thrust. I still don’t think it works. There’s too much of M, Q and Moneypenny sat in an office trying to stop a man typing something into a computer (more on this in a minute), while Bond is busy running around a building and shooting at a helicopter. Personally, I’d’ve thrown it out and started again, but I guess they’d run out of time, and maybe it was better than the alternative.
No, of course it isn’t, and it never was; but the point of Bond has never been realism. And besides, the reason you cast quality actors in minor roles is so they can pop in for a day or two and make their one scene exceptionally good. Bulk their part up if you’ve got a story to tell, by all means, but don’t shoehorn them in just because you’ve got them. For my money, Spectre is too much doing the latter.
Or perhaps they’re just planning to go 


So says Peter Jackson in the special features accompanying this extended cut of his trilogy-closing saga-ending sixth Middle-earth movie, as
Most obvious, and most discussed, is the dwarves’ war chariot action scene, whose bloody decapitations saw the film earn an R in the US and 15 over here. A seven-minute action sequence in the middle of the battle, it’s by far the largest single addition, and is mainly notable for all that blood and its use of the word “jambags”. Somewhat ironically, the sequence was a last-minute addition (the physical chariot was the last thing built for the films), which even as they’re shooting it Jackson acknowledges is an indulgence, and then of course it got bumped to the extended edition for being just that.
Not a sausage, unless I missed something. It didn’t bother me too much because, quite frankly, I can’t quite remember what it was all about; but when I inevitably watch the extended trilogy back to back one day, it may do then. That said, I can’t imagine it’s a major fault, but again highlights the built-on-the-fly, ill-thought-through state of expanding The Hobbit 2 into The Hobbit 2 and 3.
British Academy Film Awards 2016
A British sci-fi movie from a first-time director will tomorrow take a place at the table (well, in the auditorium) alongside 2015’s biggest awards contenders, as it vies for multiple gongs at this year’s BAFTAs — and it stands a very plausible chance of walking away with several of them, too. I hope it does, because, after a year that brought us awards-quality sci-fi bombast (
In truth, it’s not the most thorough deconstruction of what it means to be human and whether artificial intelligence can have that right, but it does touch on these issues and, in so doing, leaves them open for the viewer to mull over for themselves, or debate with friends, or however else one likes to consider their movies post-viewing (like, I dunno, writing about them on the internet or something).
And his dance scene is surely one of 2015’s highlights (there’s an extended version hidden on the US Blu-ray, which is a treat). Garnering the most praise (and awards) is Alicia Vikander’s take on an AI. It’s a tricky role to tackle, because she’s not just a robot — that would defeat the point of Nathan’s exercise — but nor is she fully human. It’s a tightrope of a role, a fine line to walk, and Vikander negotiates it with aplomb. To say too much more would be to spoil it.
Those after a dissertation-like hard-science deconstruction of the meaning and possibilities of AI will likely find Ex Machina slightly lacking, as will anyone after the crash-bang thrills most mainstream sci-fi provides. Viewers prepared for a decently thought-provoking dramatic thriller about near-future tech, however, should be both engrossed, and grateful that movies like this are (for the time being) still getting made.
In the seven-and-a-bit years between 31st March 1939 and 7th June 1946, there were a total of 14 films released starring Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce as Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson. By coincidence rather than design, I’ve spent nearly eight years viewing and reviewing them all for this blog — so yes, it’s taken me a little longer to watch them than it did to make them, which is ridiculous, but there you go.
the story is explicitly referenced in the film, Watson having just had it published; then the film’s villainess turns up, played by Patricia Morison, functioning effectively as an Adler stand-in — and using some tricks she learnt from reading Watson’s story! The series hasn’t featured Adler before, so why not just name this character Irene Adler, have her devise those tricks from her own imagination, and be done with? Who knows.
Arthouse favourite Michael Haneke criticises audience’s enjoyment of screen violence. It certainly achieves its aim of being a grim, brutal depiction of violence in real-life, creating a situation that feels inescapable not only for the characters but the audience too. Some cinematic trickery is also deployed to striking, if divisive, effect.