Paul Verhoeven | 108 mins | TV (HD) | 18 / R
Post Inception, it feels like we should be seeing a revival of interest in all things Total Recall, concerned as it is with dreams, fake memories, and what’s real and what isn’t. On the other hand, aside from an ambiguity about whether the lead character is dreaming or not — which adds texture but, arguably, is unimportant to the film’s primary thrills — there’s not that much to read into it.
For me, the joy of Total Recall is in discovering another ’80s blockbuster (ignore the fact it was released in 1990), the kind of thing I grew up watching on rented videos and BBC One Bank Holiday schedules; films like the Indiana Joneses, Back to the Future, Ghostbusters, Burton’s Batman, and all the rest (I feel I’ve used these examples before; I must have some others), whose practical effects and general style and tone — not a conscious effort by these filmmakers, I’m sure, but instead just How Hollywood Films Were Then — vividly recalls that era for me; films that at the time were, to my young eyes and understanding, enduring classics of cinema that had always existed… despite the fact most were just a few years old.
I suspect it’s for this reason that my top note on Total Recall is “fantastic effects”. But, still, they are; from the wide shots of a Martian landscape and its complex of buildings, to the mutants, disguises, and blood ‘n’ gore. That it all becomes slightly cartoony — albeit the nastiest, gruesomest cartoon (apart from, y’know, some of That Japanese Stuff) — just adds to the charm. Similarly, a lot of the ‘science’ is utterly implausible or impossible — which, 
depending on your point of view, either supports the “it was all a dream” reading or is just a case of artistic licence, hardly uncommon in SF cinema.
Also very much ‘of the era’ is the star, Arnold Schwarzenegger (as if you needed telling). He really isn’t cut out for any role more demanding than the Terminator, though his laboured delivery and awkward presence injects a certain amateurish, humorous charm to any scene he’s in — ergo, much of the film. Conversely, Michael Ironside makes an excellent villain. Though his death is suitably dramatic, it’s a shame he’s not The Big Bad Guy — the film follows the blockbuster rule of dispatching villains in order of importance well enough, but Ronny Cox doesn’t come close to the commanding presence required to create a memorable villain in such little screen time. It leaves the viewer longing for Ironside to be featured during the final climax instead of Cox’s limp boss.
I suppose Total Recall endures in that way successful films do, because they provide a point of shared cultural awareness. I feel its influence has diminished with time — this is entirely subjective, but it doesn’t seem to come up as much as it used to — and presumably will continue to do so, as its not-unjustified absence from Best Of lists means fewer new viewers come to it and so its cultural cachet diminishes. 
Perhaps it’s ultimately destined for an afterlife as a film representative of its era; the kind of thing that comes up as a footnote or personal favourite in texts & documentaries specifically discussing things like The Sci-fi Cinema of the ’90s. Or perhaps I’m doing it a disservice. We shouldn’t really try to predict these things too much, it’ll only lead to embarrassment when the opposite happens.
So, Total Recall. Good fun. Quite funny. Bit gory. I liked the effects.
Total Recall is on Syfy (UK) tonight, Monday 10th November 2014, at 9pm.
Part II, eh? A continuation of the same story from Part I, theoretically; like 
The screenplay is by James Cameron (yes, that one) and Stallone. Cameron says he wrote the action and Stallone added the politics. I don’t know who wrote the dialogue, but on the whole it’s typically straightforward and/or laughably weak. You can see why these days people get hired to do a “dialogue polish”.
if the film is vilifying those who didn’t care about soldiers who fought in Vietnam (which it is), the characters who abandon Rambo and the other PoWs are an embodiment for this disdain.
Notorious for having numerous cuts forced upon it by censors, over 40 years after its initial release Witchfinder General — now uncut — seems almost tame. But gore and sadistic violence certainly aren’t the main attractions — there’s a lot more to the film than that.
shot against Reeves’ wishes, featuring needlessly topless wenches. This is the cut shown by the BBC.)
Witchfinder General is more action-adventure than horror.
Best of all is the witchfinder himself, excellently portrayed by horror stalwart Vincent Price. Indeed, all the credit may lay with him, because it’s his line deliveries and uncertain looks that make the character conflicted early on, a man who may believe he is genuinely doing good for Christian values, but is seduced down darker paths by money, power, lust, and the prospect of revenge. When he allows himself to be lured to Sara’s bedroom as payment for leniency on her uncle, we’re uncertain if he’ll take what’s intended or use her loose ways as proof of witchery. That it’s the former quickly indicates how seriously he takes his espoused Christianity.
to near-silhouette levels of blackness. It’s even less convincing than that fake blood. I enjoyed the score too. A completely new one was written for the US release, but I presume this was the original because it was slightly calmer and more haunting than one might expect from an action-adventure-horror movie (which I presume was the reasoning for the replacement).
Infamously, on its release in America the much-hyped Rodriguez/Tarantino double bill was an almighty flop, so much so that it wasn’t properly released in its full form outside the US. Which is a bit ironic, if you think about it, because the US is the market least likely to respond to something a little bit experimental.
Chances are, if you don’t find this opening salvo entertaining in some way the rest of the film is going to prove a struggle.
It probably works better in context than described on the page, but Rodriguez has marshalled every disparate element to create a cohesive whole that’s exciting and funny. At this point, Grindhouse is firmly headed for a full five-star conceptual success.
though Roth can’t resist adding his own especially twisted brand of humour (I shan’t describe the final shot here).
But it’s not just the increasing lack of dilapidated print quality that prevents Death Proof from selling its concept. The screenplay is clearly a QT work, much more so than most of 
and if he chooses to create some more action-centric pictures in the future it would be no bad thing.
In fact, it might’ve played better if the films were the other way round, as it means Death Proof must be set before Planet Terror. I’d approve of this switch not only for chronological reasons, but because seeing one-scene bit-parters turn up in the-same-but-larger roles in the second film seems like it would be more satisfying as a viewer, rather than re-encountering these (in any case, minor) characters the way we do.
But Tarantino’s entry lets the side down by seeming to fail in its execution of the film’s conceit. I’m not convinced it would be any better viewed as a standalone Quentin Tarantino Film, but in context it certainly disappoints.
Many years ago, back when both the shows I’m about to mention were still on the air, someone drew a comparison that I felt summed up the whole of ’90s/’00s 
Actually, this is when Insurrection is at its best. Action-adventure undoubtedly has a place in science-fiction, but so do wordier stories — when they’re done right, and when they’re where you expect them to be. You shouldn’t expect them from Star Wars; you should from Star Trek. (That doesn’t make Voyager’s attitude better than Farscape’s, incidentally; not if it was boring or implausibly honourable considering their situation. But that isn’t the matter at hand.) And so the first 45 minutes or so are mostly enjoyable. Critics say even this isn’t as deep as 
There’s a greater array of fan-pleasing nods and winks this time out. As with First Contact, they have to find an excuse to get Worf back on board (at the time, in universe continuity, he was on Deep Space 9 in 
Most negative reviews — so, most reviews — accused the film of being essentially a TV episode (or two, of course), not earning itself a spot on the big screen. They may have a point. The subject matter isn’t at fault — a planet with the ability to make everyone live forever has suitably large potential — but the execution of it is frequently low-key. This isn’t too bad in the first half, which maintains the interest as it unfurls the story, but when it degenerates into action in the second half it falls apart. It’s no longer interesting and, ironically, looks made-for-TV, lacking inspired direction or suitable scope. Perhaps it would’ve been better served as a TV episode; or, as a film, better served by a writer and/or director and/or producer with greater vision.
“Even ones good, odd ones bad.” So went 
For all that, I still got the sense of it being a bit like two or three episodes of TV stuck together, albeit two particularly epic stories with a slightly bigger budget. The story on Earth is a bit of a sideline, for example, the kind of thing that’s added to give half the cast something to do. Perhaps that’s unfair — it’s a decent enough tale, with significant relevance to the Trek universe, but it’s also low-key and, aside from being kicked off by a Borg attack, entirely unrelated to the goings-on on the Enterprise. Visually it’s even more of a mixed bag. Borg costumes and effects are at times impressive — the Queen being lowered into her body, robotic spine dangling, still looks good today, and her makeup is exemplary — but other drones seem to be clad in cheap bodysuits… which the actors surely are, but it looks it.
For a newbie, or a viewer light on Trek knowledge, it all works fine. There’s an awareness one’s missing out on something — Picard’s previous encounter with the Borg is alluded to often but not explained in full; even for me, as someone well aware that it’s one of sci-fi’s Big Stories, but who has never actually seen it, there’s a certain lack of explanation. Featuring a couple of new characters from hundreds of years before TNG’s regular timeline helps, because the crew occasionally have to tell them things everyone else would know; the downside is they’re not meant to be telling them everything, so some stuff still passes us by. But, importantly, none of this ever swamps the story; they’re just touches and moments that I know I’m not getting.
early on Picard explains that they won’t be noticed until they seem a threat… but they’re all carrying whopping great guns. And surely the very fact the humans have turned up deems them a threat? Also, why don’t the Borg recognise Picard? And later, during the largely fantastic sequence on the Enterprise’s hull, Picard, Worf and Hawk are clearly up to something nefarious and yet the Borg let them carry on. One or two Borg stop to intervene; Picard & co dispatch them; the rest of the Borg just keep working. Surely the fact these humans have just done away with several of your compatriots qualifies them as a threat that needs to be dealt with? It’s all a bit too convenient.
Daylight is a disaster movie; the kind they apparently made lots of in the ’70s, and has seen a revival (to some degree) thanks to Roland Emmerich and his brand of apocalypse-bringing. This was made in the ’90s though and, lacking any self-aware qualities, might be seen as a throwback. Whether that matters is probably an issue for more well-versed disaster movie fans than I.
Which Characters Would It Be Most Tragic To Lose and started to work his way through them until he reached the end of the screenplay. I suppose it’s flat-out good advice for a disaster movie, but, try not to get too attached.
inadvertently overshadows the whole film. I suppose any shot of the Center calls up those memories now, but it’s unfortunate that this one comes at the end of a disaster movie.
Origin stories are, as we well know, all the rage at the moment, and so Ridley Scott follows in the footsteps of 
a likely-fictional creation, and so the style is suitably believable, whether it be precisely factual or not.
Mark Strong in a villainous role (it might be nice to see him play a good guy sometime, I’m sure he’s capable). Danny Huston’s King Richard is a nicely revisionist take — not the flawless hero we’re used to seeing — which sadly gets too little screen time. Oscar Isaac’s Prince/King John is suitably brattish and inconsistent, but by playing the part fairly straight he doesn’t come close to being as memorable as Alan Rickman, Keith Allen or Toby Stephens in the key villain’s role.
after numerous scenes of them doing stuff, they just are. King John ums and ahs about various things, and if we’re being charitable his chief characteristic is ‘changeable’; and if we’re not, he’s a weakly-written, inconsistent character. Do I believe he’d go charging into the fray during the climax? No, I don’t. If he’d gone in when it was virtually over, just so he could later claim he had? Yes, that would fit.
I wanted the reviews to be wrong; for Ridley Scott’s Gritty And Realistic™ take on Robin Hood to be worth the potential of the concept. In places, it almost is — the era is evoked stylishly, the battles are largely well-staged if not perfect — but it drags, and ultimately Robin only becomes Robin Hood proper at the film’s end. (In fact, a surprisingly large amount of the trailer was taken from the film’s closing minutes, obviously to imply the usual Robin Hood story.) It’s copied Batman Begins and Casino Royale too precisely in this respect, perhaps. It also makes it feel like nowt but setup for a sequel, over-explaining how (this version of) Robin came to be where he was. As the final card says, “And so the legend begins”.
Back when he was still directing 
Vermithrax Pejorative is a long time coming, however, wisely kept off screen by director Matthew Robbins. It’s not that the monster shouldn’t be revealed, just that, like 
and giant monster than character development. Similarly, an interesting subplot about the move from The Old Ways of magic and superstition to The New Ways of Christianity feels like a good idea that hasn’t been fully integrated, made up of little more than a couple of passing nods and a negatively-inclined inclusion in the coda.
Terminator Salvation begins with a title sequence that displays the film’s title twice. I know you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover and all that, but somehow it just doesn’t bode well.
sequences that could benefit from a wider perspective, for example Connor’s helicopter crash. That said (again), I’m a little torn what to think of that example: keeping the camera on Connor produces an unusual spin on a potentially familiar sequence, but it’s also a bit disorientating and, as I say, compounds this sense of watching someone else play a game.
And even if you hadn’t seen it on the box or heard about it in all the film’s publicity, it’s obvious pretty early on that Marcus Wright will turn out to be a Terminator. To McG’s credit, he plays the ultimate reveal quite well — for those who know, it just about functions as a scene in its own right; for those who still hadn’t guessed, it works as a reveal — but if any filmmaker genuinely thought they’d kept it covered up they were sorely mistaken, and the first half could’ve done with a more knowing rewrite to compensate. Or just delete the prologue.
He’s fine as ever, though his accent seems to waver between American and his native Australian. The same can’t be said of Helena Bonham Carter’s brief turn — her voice hits a constant fake American. Meanwhile, Arnie’s digitised cameo is just that. On the one hand it’s a nice touch, on the other it’s ultimately pointless — Connor doesn’t even react to the familiar face.
More interesting than these slight tweaks is the behind-the-scenes story of a very different film, which I alluded to earlier. I don’t want to discuss it at length, but 
100Films.co.uk 