The Orphanage (2007)

Director: J. A. Bayona

This has been described as "the new Pan's Labyrinth" (The Guardian), which, as far as I can see, can only be put down to lazy journalism. Sure, the film's Spanish, supernatural and has something to do with Guillermo del Toro (he co-produced), but there is little similarity beyond these superficial elements, and in any case, The Orphanage arguably packs a greater punch than any of del Toro's work has.

I won't outline the plot, since the gradually building layers of mystery and discovery are one of the great joys of the experience. Suffice to say that, by about half an hour in, almost without you realising it, the film has you gripped like a vice. There are moments of unbearable tension that rely heavily on immediate, sensory devices such as sound and lighting, yet unlike with most horror films, these moments remain with you long after the credits have rolled. This is due in part to a use of implication that really gets inside your head and messes with it, and in part to the devastating emotional weight of the protagonist's plight; the story is a genuinely affecting portrait of loss, desperation and anxiety, with a psychological complexity that recalls Henry James's The Turn of the Screw. To this end, the film is anchored by a superb central performance from Belén Rueda.

It's rare to find a horror film that has the potential for longevity, and value beyond cheap shocks - in short, a good horror film that is also a good film, period. The Orphanage is a good film.

Distant Voices, Still Lives (1988)

Director: Terence Davies

I never would have thought that a film about births, marriages and deaths in a working-class Liverpudlian family in the 1940s & '50s could be unlike anything I'd ever seen before... but Distant Voices, Still Lives is remarkable. A non-linear series of episodes that often seems more like photographs set to music than drama, and yielding some extraordinarily touching moments, Davies's intensely personal, autobiographical film is a lovingly crafted triumph.

Factotum (2005)

Director: Bent Hamer

Based on Charles Bukowski's semi-autobiographical novels (including episodes from Post Office and Factotum), Hamer's excellent, consistently entertaining film follows writer and drunkard Henry Chinaski (a superb Matt Dillon) through a series of dead-end jobs and relationships. Chinaski is a flawed and fascinating character to watch, and while the film doesn't go into quite as unflinching detail as the novels, it revels in Bukowski's dry humour (it consists pretty much entirely of killer dialogue) and even brings out a surprising warmth.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966)

Director: Sergio Leone

The final part of Leone's brilliant Dollars trilogy does its predecessors justice, increasing the dramatic scale to include the American Civil War while retaining strong, outstanding individual characters, a wicked sense of humour, and ingenious plot twists.

The Proposition (2005)

Director: John Hillcoat

This Australian Western is very nicely photographed. Unfortunately, it's also cold, brutal, humourless and ultimately boring. The outlaw Charlie Burns (Guy Pearce) is ordered by Captain Stanley (Ray Winstone) to find and kill his older brother in exchange for his younger brother's life. For a film whose story centres on brotherhood, questions of loyalty and so forth, none of the characters seem close enough for us to care about their relationships and about Burns's central dilemma. Even the relationship between Stanley and his wife Martha (Emily Watson) is drab and unconvincing - most of the scenes the two share seem like a lame attempt on the filmmakers' part to balance out the movie's sadism with a little tenderness. Nick Cave's script aims to tart up the relentless bloodshed with occasional lines of half-arsed half-poetry, but having the guy from Sexy Beast gaze into the mid-distance reflecting, "Australia... What fresh hell is this?" just doesn't work.

Nashville (1975)

Director: Robert Altman

Like his later Short Cuts (1993), Altman's Nashville is an ensemble drama that juggles numerous storylines - here, the strands are centred around a country music festival in Tennessee. Altman's work remains superior to such descendants as Magnolia, Crash and (argh!) Bobby, due to a lack of heavy-handed, soppy melodrama - though there is plenty of emotional depth.

Blow-Up (1966)

Director: Michelangelo Antonioni

A London photographer (David Hemmings) thinks he may have captured evidence of a murder on film. Nice camerawork and Hemmings's performance as a total bastard make this fairly watchable, but overall it strives so hard to be both ultra-fashionable and deep that it succeeds as neither - coming off instead as dated and pretentious. Sex, drugs and rock and roll are all crowbarred in and poorly executed, completely deadening the film's already slow pace.

Big Time (1988)

Director: Chris Blum

It would be reductive to call Big Time a concert movie. Tom Waits indeed performs songs from his classic albums Swordfishtrombones, Rain Dogs and Franks Wild Years, but he does so variously engaged in different roles - manic preacher; soulful crooner; glitzy, wisecracking comedian. Not only that, we see him as the venue's steward, listening to the gigs from outside; the opening scene even shows that he is dreaming the whole thing himself! The stage-show-collage result is utterly surreal, witty, and full of great performances - spoken word narratives such as 'Frank's Wild Years' and '9th & Hennepin' especially benefit from their embellished live renditions, while 'Time' retains its tender poignancy amongst such eccentric company as an hilarious take of 'Straight to the Top'.

The Omega Man (1971)

Director: Boris Sagal

To date, there have been three screen adaptations of Richard Matheson's I Am Legend, none of which have really managed to capture the novel's essence. The Omega Man is the least faithful effort - for some reason, the vampires have been reimagined as a bizarre, hooded cult of pale-skinned mutants - but it's the most entertaining of the bunch, perhaps due simply to its status as early '70s sci-fi.

This film's focus is less on eerie suspense than on badass action sequences, as Charlton Heston lets the mutants have it, usually accompanied by a driving funk soundtrack. Any psychological depth to the character of Robert Neville is completely eschewed, in favour of Heston's relentless quips and trademark blend of the manic and the macho (try counting the number of times he yells/mutters through gritted teeth "bastard", "damnit!", and so on). Though it pulls the film's tone even further from that of its source material, the jarring appearance of a fast-talking Rosalind Cash as a fellow survivor halfway through does inject things with a certain renewed energy, as she starts out by shooting hilarious lines like "if you just have to play James Bond, I'll bust yo' ass" at Heston for no apparent reason. This is before, of course, the two get it together, a process which unfolds in spectacularly corny fashion and carries zero emotional weight when their relationship is threatened later on. Ultimately, then, another missed opportunity, but it's possible to find a few things to enjoy.

Control (2007)

Director: Anton Corbijn

Former Joy Division photographer Corbijn's feature debut is a biopic of frontman Ian Curtis. Whilst it's a largely subdued affair, as befits its title and subject matter, frequent flashes of humour ensure that it doesn't become the out-and-out angst-fest it could have been. As one might expect, the film is visually impressive, but best of all are the energetic live performances, in which newcomer Sam Riley is astonishingly convincing as Curtis.

The Lives of Others (2006)

Director: Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck

It's surprising to discover that this confident, controlled, sombre thriller - about the surveillance of a playwright and his actress lover by the secret police in mid-1980s East Germany - is von Donnersmarck's first feature. It was the recipient of several prestigious awards, including Best Foreign Language Film at last year's Oscars, and deserves such recognition for its excellent performances, stately camerawork and strong script. Though the final few scenes seem clumsily appended, the film is rarely less than engrossing.

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007)

Director: Andrew Dominik

Since I was fairly exhausted when I saw this, term having just come to an end, I fell asleep briefly a couple of times, which was a real shame, and certainly no reflection on the film itself, because it truly deserves attention. Although my memory is inevitably a little hazy at points, definite highlights include a beautiful and startling opening sequence that recalls the work of Terrence Malick; an outstandingly eerie and cinematic night train robbery; breathtaking photography throughout; a score by Nick Cave (who cameos) and Warren Ellis; and sensitive lead performances from Brad Pitt and especially Casey Affleck. I'm looking forward to the release of the DVD so that I can give it another, more focused viewing.

what the?

I'm going to try to remember to post something here whenever I see a film. Because, well, why not.