Bel Ludovic Reviews

One Hour Photo (2002)

Precise and ordered production design, measured performances

[7/10 · 25 December 2006]

Relief at Robin Williams in a role that almost wholly omits the saccharine sentimentality that has become his trademark is superseded by a sense of awe at the production design and direction of this low-key thriller. Both are imbued with a sense of uber-Virgoan precision and orderliness that effectively reinforces the sense of emptiness in the life of the Yorkin couple, with their magazine-perfect home and ideal child, of which Si Parish (whose life is more obviously 'empty') so aspires to be a part. Combined with measured and natural performances, these assets more than compensate for any ambiguity of message or sense of narrative anti-climax.

Casino Royale (2006)

The death of a formula

[8/10 · 18 November 2006]

As a Roger Moore apologist, you'd think I'd hate 'Casino Royale' and Daniel Craig's portrayal of 007. But you'd be wrong. That was the Bond that was right for then, and this is the Bond that's right for the times we live in. The utterly dismal retread of the usual formula in 'Die Another Day' demonstrated that the formula simply had nowhere else to go. Freed from its constraints, this film was much more involving - to the relief of an audience that probably wouldn't be queueing up to see the same old same old.

Daniel Craig is the right man for the job and this is exactly the reinvention that was needed. Judi Dench as M is superb, as always, and the opening titles are the best of the series. Only the excessive product placement reminds the audience of this film's predecessors. But that aside, Casino Royale refreshes the franchise admirably. Let's hope this is the future direction of the series rather than a one-off.

Derailed (I) (2005)

A lacklustre, unsatisfactory thriller

[3/10 · 28 October 2006]

This flimsy and lazily plotted thriller offers little but implausible 'twists' in a generally lethargic, hackneyed script. Its already limited entertainment value is stymied still further by the casting of three English actors (Owen, Conti and Morrissey) and an Australian actress (George), all of whom are made to speak in American accents - a practice that bewilders me. Aren't there enough American actors to go round? Will American audiences object to non-American actors using their native accents? Unless, of course, they're villains, in which case it's OK. Case in point: Vincent Cassel, who plays the baddie, and is therefore allowed to be French. His performance makes this film watchable, and Aniston is surprisingly convincing too. But Clive Owen's American accent is all over the place - and mostly absent altogether. Aside from Cassel and Aniston, cast and crew are asleep at the wheel, and there's little attempt to make the audience care about either the characters or the story - which is just as well, given how poorly written both are. Still, at least this kind of thing helps actors pay their bills.

Hostage (2005)

Underwhelming

[3/10 · 23 September 2006]

Having previously enjoyed Constantinos Giannaris's 'From The Edge Of The City', flawed though it was, I imagined this film might represent a coming to fruition of this director's potential.

Alas, this film fails on all fronts. Neither dramatic enough to constitute a drama nor thrilling enough to be considered a thriller, the pacing is lethargic and there's barely a soupçon of suspense throughout. Character development is limited, and, even where attempted, ultimately uninvolving. This is not helped by the director's tiresome insistence on casting Stathis Papadopoulos purely on the basis (it seems) that the actor is extremely buff. I don't know about you, but I often find it quite helpful if an actor can act.

The depiction of the racism and xenophobia that lurks beneath the surface of contemporary Greece is perhaps the most interesting aspect of a film that offers no other message and little by way of entertainment.

City of God (2002)

A film to admire of a subject to despair

[10/10 · 27 September 2003]

(spoilers) It doesn't take long for the irony inherent in the City of God's name to become apparent. This is an unflinching portrait of gang warfare in a Brazilian favela. It is a place crippled by competition for drug turf and in that competition life is shockingly worthless. Gun-squeamish viewers will not enjoy this film, as one of the key protagonists, Li'l Ze, emerges as one of cinema's most evil characters, dispensing with both ally and enemy with the carelessness of a child throwing away sweet wrappers. Any hope gleaned from the narrator, Rocket's, escape into a better world is diminished by the ease with which the baton of violence and worthlessness is passed onto the next generation at an age young enough for them to still be wetting their beds. Taut direction, fearless acting and beautiful cinematography make this a classic, but one that leaves the viewer in despair.

Threads (1984 TV Movie)

The only true horror film there is

[9/10 · 29 April 2003]

I saw this film a week ago and its images, its dark mood, its intensity and its sheer horror have stayed with me in a way that no other film has even approached. This is a deeply unsettling film to watch - more than that, in fact, it is chilling to the bone, more gruesome and terrifying than anything else that can be imagined. Our current-day fears are put into perspective next to the fear of the bomb that characterised the mid-80s. The build-up to the bomb takes place against the backdrop of ordinary Sheffield life - and despite inevitable dating, it's all too recognisable. But it's the aftermath that gets you; the torment is unrelenting and the audience isn't spared even the tiniest detail. Fortunately there's no way of knowing for sure whether this film is realistic, but it seems so - and the credits at the end at least demonstrate that it has been meticulously researched. This film should be watched by all - but brace yourself for a truly harrowing couple of hours.

My Beautiful Laundrette (1985)

Life in 1985

[8/10 · 27 March 2003]

The 1980s were not a vintage era for film - nor, by the looks of this pioneering gem, a great time for race relations, either. That's what this film is about - that, and the main credo of the time: making money. What it's rather not about is (spoiler) the homosexual nature of the relationship between the main protagonist, Omar, and his former school friend, Johnny. The two meet after a while and Omar gives Johnny a job in his new, beautiful launderette. This film bravely featured the two men kissing and enjoying intimacy throughout the film, tenderly portrayed and extraordinarily brave during the AIDS-hysterical homophobic 1980s.

And yet this relationship in itself is almost superfluous compared to the film's other main themes. My Beautiful Launderette encapsulates with eerie veracity the South London of 1985, with the immigrants that inhabit it at a crucial moral crossroads that perfectly reflects the early 80s gloom Britain was just leaving behind and the late 80s boom it was beginning to glimpse; Omar's ill father speaks bitterly of the country and of the government, of being shafted by both, and of wanting to return to his homeland, while Omar's all-embracing uncle sees their homeland as `sodomised by religion' and Britain a `beautiful place' where money can be made, the making of money all-important to progressing in British society at the time. `Get the champagne and let's drink to Thatcher!' he announces at one point. And it's not long before his uncle's desire to make money and to make 'it' spread to the increasingly sharp-suited Omar, who parades absurdly around his neon-lit launderette, which has unwittingly become the centre of the community. But Johnny's violent, fascist former friends care not for his new company, and evoke a past which casts a shadow over his relationship with Omar.

My Beautiful Launderette is about love, violence, entrepreneurship, hope, and hopelessness, community, race, class and, of course, some extremely bad hairdos. This is a cracking film, not necessarily because of the casting, acting, directing or even the story, although all are good, but because of its value as a document of a moment in time. How long ago it all seems - and thank goodness for that.

GoldenEye (1995)

Bring back Martin Campbell

[8/10 · 9 January 2003]

After a hiatus of six years, and with a new Bond and all-round change in personnel, ‘Goldeneye' needed to be good. Fortunately, it succeeds brilliantly, and is far and away and without a shadow of doubt the best Bond film of the Brosnan era. I'm not really a fan of Brosnan – his facial expressions belong to an actor who seems to permanently revel in his own handsomeness, and this would later develop into his style of alternating jaw-clenching over-earnestness with smarmy, glib self-satisfaction – but, unusually given that it's his first outing, it's also his best. Everything else is top notch, too. There's a satisfactory balance between plot development, character development and action; indeed ‘Goldeneye' crackles with sparky, absorbing dialogue, before the sorry deterioration into innuendo overdose seen in later Bond entries – as an example, the legendary `sexist, misogynist dinosaur' interchange between M and Bond is a highlight of the series. Brosnan enjoys good chemistry with Scorupco, the best Bond girl since Barbara Bach way back in '77; Sean Bean is a commendable villain as 006, and the final fight between him and 007 is superbly directed, one of the best fight scenes in the entire series, in which you can really sense the mutual contempt between Bond and his adversary. Ourumov and Onatopp are entertaining henchmen, but Alan Cummings misfires as the computer programmer Boris. Speaking of whom, ‘Goldeneye' is also noteworthy because it marks a measured return to the humour of the 1970s and ‘80s Bond films after the austere Dalton outings, but – thankfully - on the whole it works well. On the minus side, Bond uses the word `yo!' – and really shouldn't. And Eric Serra's soundtrack is inconsistent, and, at times, quite appalling, although the worst is over after the first twenty minutes. All told, though, ‘Goldeneye' is terrific, easily the most enjoyable Bond film for donkey's years. A shame this standard could not be maintained.

The World Is Not Enough (1999)

Third time lucky

[24 December 2002]

The first time I saw this in the cinema in '99, I remember actively disliking it - the first time I'd had that reaction to a new Bond release. I saw it a second time at the cinema, and disliked it less - but still wasn't keen. Now, in the dying days of 2002, and quaking with hatred for - and disappointment at - 'Die Another Day', I re-evaluated TWINE for a second time. And I have to say, compared to this year's farce, TWINE is bathed in a golden glow. In terms of character development, plausibility (always tenuous in Bond films, but still), acting, and script, TWINE is far and away and without a shadow of doubt superior to 'Die Another Day'. Above all, this is a Bond film that does occasionally treat its audience like they have brain cells, rather than a ghastly exercise in sci-fi pretensions with MTV production values.

The opening sequence reveals itself to be one of the very best in the series, taut and exciting, flawlessly directed and perfectly executed. There's nothing else in the film that can quite top it, but some inspired casting helps immeasurably. Sophie Marceau is superb, and it's great to see Robbie Coltrane reprise Valentin Zukovsky, who bags many of the best lines. Judy Dench as 'M' is given a high profile in this entry, which is all to the good as she's clearly the best thing to happen to the Bond films in the Brosnan era. Alas, Desmond Llwelyn makes his final appearance as 'Q' - it would be thus even had he not died the following year - and his exit is well-handled.touching, even. On the downside, Robert Carlyle is not quite convincing as Renard, but it barely matters as Marceau is so firmly in control. Denise Richards isn't as bad as she's been made out to be - indeed, she actually seems smarter and less bland than Halle Berry in DAD.

Plot and action sequences throughout the film are deftly handled, but there are some areas where TWINE seems a little derivative, cheerfully looting the Bond back catalogue, for example in the Caucasus skiing sequence which fuses together action setpieces from YOLT and OHMSS. There are also moments of alarming silliness more redolent of the 1970s and '80s, such as the scene with John Cleese making his debut as future-'Q' and all scenes with Goldie in as Bullion. And for those of us who aren't fans of Pierce Brosnan, there's plenty to annoy - excessive jaw-clenching, lots of posing, inherent charmlessness. I'm sure he's lovely in real life, mind.

Generally, though this is a competent entry in the series, and its attempts at depth just about succeed. It is also the most `how'-and-`why'-proof Bond film since the 1960s, a refreshing change from those Bond films that arrogantly command the audience to suspend their beliefs and do all the maths themselves. Quite why it all went wrong three years later is anyone's guess, but I blame 'XXX' and a continuing adoration of 'The Matrix'.

Tape (2001)

Let bygones be bygones? Not in 'Tape'

[8/10 · 19 December 2002]

With just three cast members and a roster of locations that comprises a single motel bedroom and ensuite bathroom, this must be the lowest budget movie ever. And it's to the good; its very simplicity makes it a surprisingly compelling watch, more reminiscent of a stage play than a conventional film. It's not surprising, therefore, to discover that Tape is indeed a screen adaptation of a theatrical work by Stephen Belber. It's something of a coup for director Richard Linklater that two of the three actors are big, big names – Ethan Hawke and Uma Thurman. Both these actors and Robert Sean Leonard, the third cast member, give natural, grounded, strong performances.

The plot is simple (spoiler alert): Vince (Hawke) is in town to see the premier of a film made by his oldest friend, John (Leonard). John meets Vince in his hotel the evening before to go out for dinner – but Vince seems to have a score to settle. In retrospective mood, drugged-up Vince manages to coax a confession from self-righteous John that in high school he raped Vince's first girlfriend, Amy – who happens to live in the same town, and has been invited to the motel room by Vince.

So begins a bizarre psychological game between the three with many twists and turns that surprise and captivate the viewer. The film is minimalist and more performance-dependent than your average movie, but ‘Tape' benefits from a high quality script with absorbing, flowing dialogue. If there is a criticism, it's only the fact that the players' motives remain unclear thoughout, resulting in a conclusion that may be understated but is still not entirely satisfactory. Recommended, though, if you're in the mood for this kind of thing.

You Only Live Twice (1967)

Top notch Bond is big on Japan

[8/10 · 17 December 2002]

You Only Live Twice is often spoken of as the worst of the first five Bond films, but it's difficult to see why. After the bore that was Thunderball, You Only Live Twice is a fresh, exciting entry in the series, and one whose plot would a decade later be recycled for The Spy Who Loved Me. Future Bond films would flit from one exotic location to another, but 'Twice' picks one country and runs with it: Japan. And it's a highly successful move, imbuing 'Twice' with a unique and distinctive flavour. Tiger Tanaka is one of Bond's most affable allies, second only to Kerim Bey in From Russia With Love, and Aki is my favourite Bond girl, enjoying a good chemistry with Connery's Bond. Connery himself is fine, of course, and this would've been a good one to go out on.

And finally we get to see Blofeld. Well - I do think Telly Savalas was better as Blofeld the following film, but Donald Pleasance's utterance of the words "Goodbye-Meester-Bond!" is enjoyably overplayed. Final rounds of applause go to Ken Adam for superb set design, as always (incidentally there's some good interior design throughout the film, all of it back in fashion!), and John Barry for an exquisite score, reminding the viewer that Barry was just as important part of the Bond tradition as Connery, Moore, Lee, Maxwell and Llwelyn.

A View to a Kill (1985)

All hail Duran Duran

[4/10 · 2 December 2002]

This was the first Bond film I ever saw, aged 9 years old – and back in 1985, I thought it was the bee's knees. But with age comes a familiarity with the Bond back catalogue and an understanding of what makes a good film or not. And with every viewing AVTAK sinks further, to the near-bottom of the stack. Like many poor Bond films, the first 30 to 60 minutes are fine, only to deteriorate when the film's action moves to its final or penultimate setting. (Spoilers ahead.) The San Francisco scenes are simply dreadful, not only because of the ubiquity therein of the worst Bond girl ever, Tanya Roberts as Stacey Sutton, but because the film feels so tired and uninspired. We see Bond bake quiche, we see Bond fall asleep in a chair. Wow. Living on the edge there. The fire at the City Hall scene is terrible from start to finish; Bond's rescue and the over-dramatically heroic music that accompanies it are cringe-making, as is the fire engine escape. I don't generally like it when Bond films are set in America, because, in a world when most major films are set and produced in the United States, Bond films' glamorous locations provide new scenery that make them stand out from the rest. But when they're set in America they somehow feel more mundane and less interesting. And that's what makes me think the whole San Francisco scenes have the production values of a TV movie. That and Tanya Roberts' appalling acting and interminable wailing.

On the plus side, the vast majority of John Barry's score is superb, possibly his best ever, and Duran Duran's punchy, dynamic title track attempted to take the Bond theme tune in a new direction, admirably succeeding in a way that Madonna quite clearly didn't. Together with the inclusion of Grace Jones in the cast, the film is lent a contemporary mid-1980s air that it would otherwise lack. Christopher Walken is a suitably demented villain, but his cabal is fairly humdrum. Roger Moore, despite the advancing years, acts with a measured seriousness, and, combined with a facelift, just about pulls it off. But this 007 yarn is dull and naff, and screaming for a regime change.

Moonraker (1979)

Subtlety and understatement not strong points here

[5/10 · 2 December 2002]

Blame ‘Star Wars'. It could have been so very different, but EON Productions got ideas above their station and decided to send Bond to space, in order to compete with one 1977 blockbuster and outdo the other. The plot might have been sinister were it not so far-fetched, though somehow it is better executed than the equally preposterous Die Another Day. That aside, Moonraker could easily have got away with it, had better editing stripped the movie of some of its more awful moments. (Spoilers ahead). The visual gags are terrible and profoundly unfunny, serving only to lower the tone; the product placement is obscene; the return of Jaws and his ability to survive just about anything is ill-advised, and whoever came up with idea of an amply-breasted pigtailed love interest for the lumbering giant should be pelted with rancid tomatoes. Without these detriments, some of the stronger elements in Moonraker would have stood out more prominently. Drax is an excellent villain who bags all the best lines, delivered with beautifully understated acidity. The scene where Corinne is set upon by dogs for her betrayal is superbly executed, and Roger Moore plays it straight in an early scene where his life is genuinely at risk – he emerges from his vestibule of death too shaken to even murmur a smarmy quip. He's good throughout, in fact, comfortable in the role, but likeable rather than menacing, and not given much to get his teeth into. The special effects in space are fine, considering it was 1979, and John Barry's score during the space scenes are sublime. At times Moonraker is a gloriously escapist travelogue of lush locations - with a seemingly endless bevy of beautiful women draped across the scenery - rather than a gritty espionage thriller, but is it the worst Bond film ever? Well, according to some Bond fans' criteria, it possibly is. But it is guiltily enjoyable, in a vacuous way. There are probably ‘better' Bond films that I've enjoyed less than this one, but I think most people can agree that reigning in the series for the next film ‘For Your Eyes Only' was the only sensible course of action.

The Man with the Golden Gun (1974)

Less is Moore

[2 December 2002]

Strip this film of some of its sillier moments, and it's actually fine. In fact, I think it's highly underrated, despite the fact that it feels hurried and somehow ‘small'. (Spoilers ahead.) The big, big problem with the film, as far as I'm concerned, is the return of JW Pepper, who taints every scene he's in. And frankly how many people go on holiday to an exotic destination halfway across the world only to go about buying a car that you can get at home? Ludicrous. And yes, the slidewshistle during that stunt is regrettable. But despite these flaws, I find The Man With The Golden Gun highly enjoyable, and pleasingly understated. What is often not remarked upon is the fact that Roger Moore's performance as Bond is quite superb, he hits the nail on the head, combining some of the tougher, more serious elements associated with other Bonds with the suave, twinkle-in-the-eye style that he became renowned for. Britt Ekland isn't great, but still better than Tanya Roberts. Title song, enjoyably rubbish, but hey – it was 1974. Plot starts with a refreshing simplicity but, in the tradition of recent Bonds, gets more muddled towards the end. Christopher Lee as Scaramanga is a delight to watch, if only there was more of him in the film (and I don't mean a fourth nipple!). What this Bond outing rather lacks, with the exception of one stunt, is the ‘wow' factor that would make its successor, ‘The Spy Who Loved Me' such a memorable cinematic experience. The Man With The Golden Gun very much seems like an interim movie rather than a grandiose era-defining statement, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. Indeed, it makes it something of a hidden gem, more of a well-kept secret…at least, it would be if JW Pepper didn't spoil the proceedings. One day I'd like to see a new director's cut of this, with Pepper erased from the film altogether, and no slidewhistle during the car stunt. Until that happens, well…goodnight, goodnight.

Diamonds Are Forever (1971)

Oh dear. It's the Seventies.

[4/10 · 2 December 2002]

This is undoubtedly the Bond film I enjoy least. Although the film boasts some cracking lines, Connery is simply going through the motions and picking up a paycheck at the end. Four years after his last one and his age is showing, too. (Spoilers ahead.) The whole screenplay is completely uninvolving, and no explanation is given for why Blofeld suddenly has hair and is not in a wheelchair. The film's kitch, camp quality can be put down to the prevailing flavour of the era, the beginning of the Seventies, and to its credit there's some wonderfully periodic interior design to be witnessed, but a Las Vegas setting cheapens just about any film, including this one.

When I was younger I found Mr Wint and Mr Kidd rather creepy, I think due to the appalling hairstyle and moustache on Mr Kidd. Their portrayal is more than a little homophobic, too; I don't know any gays who go around in public spraying themselves extravagantly with perfume like Mr Wint did, and the way he seemed to enjoy having his arms rammed up his groin before being chucked into the sea by Bond speaks volumes of the prejudices of the time. Better by far are Bambi and Thumper and the scene with them in it is probably my favourite, together with the wonderful fight scene with the real Mr Franks in the Amsterdam lift. Otherwise, Diamonds Are Forever is a dated, grainy, messy stinker of a film, and by the time the climax on the oil rig takes place the film has lost me, as I sit with glazed-eyes in front of the screen deciding what to have for dinner.

Die Another Day (2002)

Licence to Overkill

[4/10 · 24 November 2002]

The first hour or so of Die Another Day is actually great, and the opening titles are the best yet, despite the ropey Madonna song. The scenes in North Korea, Cuba and London were well on their way to signalling this as one of the better Bond films since 1977. But the moment the action moves to Iceland it all falls apart rapidly and with indignity, with some of the most preposterous and far-fetched plot twists - even by Bond standards - and some of the most amateur special effects you're ever likely to see.

There's one action scene that is so, so hopelessly bad - Bond surfing down a collapsing iceberg - that it's worth the admission price alone just to cringe. Meanwhile Brosnan and Berry have little to do as they gallop from one completely over-the-top action sequence to another. There's plenty to suggest burgeoning sci-fi ambitions, too, which is a rather worrying trend.

The last time a Bond movie was this overblown (Moonraker), the producers did a volte-face with the following film (For Your Eyes Only), making it a mor e down-to-earth, gritty thriller. One can only hope the same thing happens again. Bond films cannot keep getting bigger and louder forever. A coherent and involving story, a modicum of suspense, a witty and clever script, and a Bond that has to rely upon his wits rather than gadgetry to get out of ticky situtations - none of this is present in DAD.

That's why the film, despite the highly promising start, ends up being such a crashing bore. But it will still make the cashtills ring, so the producers may see no reason to change, after all.

Whatever (1999)

A morose view of life

[7/10 · 9 June 2002]

Unremittingly bleak and depressing, the film evokes as well as could be desired the legendary misery and emptiness that characterised Houellebecq's controversial novel of the same name. Like many French films, its manner is one of wistful profundity but it is painfully slow - or should that be, slowly painful? While this is an excellent and challenging film, it is not an enjoyable one and its difficult to think of any time when one might be in the 'right' mood to see it.

Large (2001)

awe-inspiringly bad

[1/10 · 8 June 2002]

This film was, quite simply, lowest-common-denominator crap. It was so poorly acted, plotted and constructed that had I been in a cinema I would've walked out - something I have never done. Not much is set in Birmingham, and it's a shame that the little that is, is usually below-par. Here we get to hear a non-stop chorus of fake Brummie accents (which is even more annoying than the real thing, believe me) basically saying not very much. This is a typical Britcom film of the 'Human Traffic' imitation school; aimed at the clubbing generation, it might work after a night drinking, but for anyone else its jokes and gags are woefully unfunny and its plot and characters profoundly uninvolving. Waiting for a bus in the rain is more fun. Avoid, avoid, avoid. Avoid.