jamie-rowlands1 Reviews

Don't Look Now (1973)

A film that stays with you

[10/10 · 12 December 2020]

The only Nicolas Roeg film I'd seen, up until a couple of years ago when I sat down to watch Don't Look Now, was The Witches. It petrified me as a child, one of the most chilling films I'd seen and I've never been able to look at Angelica Huston in the same way since. Don't Look Now made me feel, as an adult, now with an appreciation of what a good film could do, how I felt as a child.

Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie play a couple who end up in Venice for his work, a short while after the untimely and shocking death of their young daughter back at home - an opening scene that immediately draws you in and instantly tells you what sort of film you're about to watch. Their grief lingers in every shot, their relationship convincing and delicate. The cinematography is striking - Venice itself is like another character in this film. And it always keeps you guessing, right up until *that* famous scene near the end where you finally learn the truth behind the fleeting visions of a small hooded figure in that, now iconic, red Mac.

I've watched it once since. The same feeling crept over me, that uneasy tingle in the pit of my stomach. It's scary, it's thrilling and at times it's quite romantic. Don't Look Now is a film, like it or loathe it, that you'll never be able to forget.

Die Hard (1988)

The greatest action movie ever made

[10/10 · 6 December 2020]

Die Hard has everything a good action movie should have - impressive stunts, well-paced sequences and a story that keeps you hooked. But there are many things that make it great, the best, so much more than just good.

The characters are well-drawn, the cinematography is stunning, the editing and the score grips you to the screen, and the dialogue is endlessly quotable. There are moments of great humour and pathos amongst the high octane action scenes. And, if you want a bit more, Bruce Willis has never been better, Alan Rickman plays one of the best baddies in cinema, and I dare you not to root for Reginald Vel Johnson's Sergeant Al Powell outside the building. Plus, it's set on Christmas Eve so you also get a few festive vibes. It's got everything.

No doubt Die Hard is firmly and happily in my top ten films of all time, if not top five.

Falling in Love (1984)

Underrated 80's romance

[8/10 · 29 November 2020]

I came across this film by accident one night. I'd never heard of it but it starred Meryl Streep and Robert De Niro, so I stuck it on. A more modern take on Brief Encounter, this film sings because of the chemistry between its leads and it quickly became clear to me that it'd be a film I'd revisit.

Sometimes you've just got to go with a film for what it is - Falling in Love won't change your life and it doesn't push any cinematic boundaries, but it's a classic love story that brought together two of the best actors of its time. It's now one of my (not so) guilty pleasures.

Misery (1990)

One of my favourite films

[10/10 · 21 July 2020]

Sometimes a film is remembered for a single performance, or for a particularly memorable moment, or for the expertly crafted score. For me, Misery ticks all those boxes and more. It's one of the most underrated thrillers, and movies, of the 1990's, packed with great dialogue, interesting shots and a killer ending. Rob Reiner's magnum opus, I'd go as far as saying. Some would argue it edges slightly too far away from the source material by Stephen King, but as I haven't read it, I'm going to judge solely on what I've seen, and William Goldman's script is brilliant.

I could write for hours about Kathy Bates in the role of Annie Wilkes, but I'll endeavour to be succinct. It's a big, bold, brave performance that occasionally veers towards the more animated, but never, not for a single moment, loses its core of truth. Many other actresses would have toned it down, made Annie quieter and more inwardly intimidating, but the film would have been poorer for that. James Caan, usually the epitome of charisma, is more restrained here, physically and emotionally, which allows for Bates to really go for it. The result is, in my opinion, one of the most unpredictable and fascinating performances in film.

There's a creeping sense of dread running through Misery from the beginning, though it's occasionally pierced with dark and often cheeky humour, almost used to disarm us. The camera shows things from everyone else's point of view, rarely, if ever, from Annie's, adding to that growing feeling of unease and making the whole thing so watchable. Makes you wonder what she'll do next. There are a lot of scenes inside the Wilkes house, but there are some beautiful and picturesque shots of the surroundings and nearby town, as well as Paul's agents office in the city, much needed to break that earlier referenced claustrophobia.

The first ten minutes will hook you in, and the last ten will wear you out. As for all the bits in between, well... your ankles might jump a bit, you'll find new meaning to the phrase "number one fan" and you'll witness one of cinema's most captivating and disturbed characters come to life.

The Godfather Part III (1990)

Third time unlucky - but still stuff to admire...

[7/10 · 19 July 2020]

I'd always heard about the third Godfather film. "It doesn't even come close", some would say. "It's rubbish", others would add. So naturally I was tentative about watching it, given how I felt about the first two films. So often a sequel can ruin your perfect image of the film (or films) that have come before it, and I didn't want that to happen here.

The first thing to say is, yes, it's true, it's not as good as the first two, arguably it doesn't even come close. But there's still a lot to admire. The cinematography is gorgeous - not as intimate and lurking here as it's previously been, but nonetheless. Talia Shire, I'd say, also gives her best performance as Connie in this film - it's less animated, there's a stillness to her, she's slightly hardened now and almost like Michael's consligiere in the absense of Tom Hagen. Andy Garcia brings a level of charisma to the role of Vincent that's sorely needed, the very thing that James Caan brought to the first film. The music, as ever, is brilliant - that haunting and operatic score returns and creeps around you like a sinister figure spying on you in the darkness. And the story, for the most part, works, although the execution of it falls short. Michael's older now, haunted by his actions in the previous two films, his family disbanded and his relationships with those around him deeply fractured - they all know what he's done. So he looks for redemption, a man who felt like he had no choice in the first film to go to that restaurant and shoot McCluskey and Sollozzo, because he cared so deeply about his father, starting the chain of events that led him to where he is now. Fredo's murder, in particular, understandably and rightly so, haunts him. He ordered the killing of his own brother, and nothing can justify that.

A big problem I have with the third film is Al Pacino's performance. It's hammier here than it ever was before. What made Michael so intriguing, and almost scary, to watch was his stillness, his cold and dangerous eyes, how he moved slowly but with purpose. Here, he's a wounded animal just waiting to die, he's slouched over and gruff, and although that's where the character should be after everything he's done and experienced, Pacino goes big and generally misfires. It doesn't feel like he's Michael anymore. Sofia Coppola, too, as Mary Corleone, is miscast - it's not because she doesn't look the part, but she can't just act it. The relationship between Michael and Mary is often the focus, making some scenes difficult to get through. Although the power of Mary's murder, and Michael's silent scream, is the best scene in the film, a shocking yet inevitable way to end the saga.

Then we go forward in time even further. Michael's alone, Pacino plastered with some dodgy looking make-up, very old now, with nothing and no one, only a lifetime of regret to fill his mind. He slumps over, falls off the chair and dies. And so bringing the story to an end. A decent way to bring the story to a final close, yet it could have been so much better. I wouldn't say I'm disappointed the third film exists, there's enough in it for me to defend it, but it fell too short of the quality of the first two. It lacked the power those films eminated, the structure that made them so watchable, and the performances that made them so riveting. A good film, all in all, but far, far from perfect.

The Godfather Part II (1974)

Continuation, conclusion and consequence...

[10/10 · 19 July 2020]

A good sequel should do two things: continue the story of the original, but also be a story in its own right. Most sequels try this and fail - sometimes it's made because of the financial success of the first film, and the studio wants to cash in; sometimes it's because the first film said everything that needed to be said and the original idea's been thinly exploited. Often, it's a mixture of both. The Godfather: Part II is a rare example of a sequel having the same power as the first, expanding the world we already know, adding context to things we've already seen, but also telling us a story (well, two actually) that can, proudly and confidently, stand on its own. In fact, it's almost unfair to label this film a sequel given the slightly negative connotations of the word, because it scarcely gets done this well. It's another work of art from Francis Ford Coppola.

The debate rages on amongst film fans - which Godfather film is the best? Well, it's not the third, although there are moments of brilliance in it, and it could well be the second (filmically, it might just clinch it), but for my money it's the first. That's not to detract from the achievement of this film, it's just personal preference, and I've rated it a ten so it's clear how highly I admire it. There's really not a lot in it.

The cinematography in Part II is stunning, some of the very best I've seen in a film, and possibly the Academy's greatest failure (in its entire history) is the lack of nomination here for Gordon Willis. Fredo, underused in the first, is also given more to do in the second film - he becomes an integral part of the story and we also get to understand what makes him tick. The scene, my favourite in the film, where he finally lets rip at Michael, following his discovery that Fredo's the family traitor, is staggeringly good - years of resentment comes pouring out of him after being passed over for his younger brother. Another Academy Award failure - where was John Cazale's nomination? Diane Keaton, too, as Kay, for me a character so integral to the whole saga, when she tells Michael the miscarriage she suffered wasn't that at all, it was an abortion. The fear and sadness in her eyes, knowing he'd hate her for it (spoiler: he does), but the absolute conviction in her decision, makes it another hugely underrated performance in the film, and in her career. De Niro as the young Vito, Lee Strasberg as Hyman Roth, Pacino again as Michael - all great work. The music too, again, is haunting and operatic, adding so much. There really is so much to love about this film.

But, for me, the thing that puts the second just slightly below the first is the journey of Michael as a character. The first film took him from being the vulnerable war hero who had shunned the family business, by all accounts a good man, all the way to Mafia kingpin who ordered the deaths of those who tried to destroy his family. In Part II, he does the unthinkable (poor Fredo), but he starts off as a man warped by his own importance and hell bent on protecting his family, and he ends the film that way too - even though, as it turns out, the thing his family might need protection from is Michael himself (poor Fredo!). It's a small thing, and the character does subtly change in the second film, but the journey of Michael in the first is what made it so fascinating and captivating to watch. It's also, the second film, just a tad too long and the story's slightly harder to follow.

It's a work of art, though. No doubt. And it delivers a gut punch in the final few minutes that's become one of the greatest and most shocking endings in film history. Poor, poor Fredo...

The Godfather (1972)

The greatest film of all time

[10/10 · 19 July 2020]

The word masterpiece is bandied about a lot, freely and, in my opinion, too often used to label films that aren't worthy. It's true, however, that my idea of what a masterpiece is could well be different to that of another film fan - at the end of the day, it's all about the relationship you have to what you see on screen, it's all subjective, isn't it? The latest CGI-laden blockbuster or socially relevant indie may be hailed as a genius piece of work, but surely it can only sit comfortably marked that way once some time has passed, once posterity has spoken, so we can see it if stands up. It might be considered a masterpiece now, but what about in ten years time when the world's changed a little bit?

The Godfather is, for me, a genuine work of art and a film that gives something new each time you watch it. It stands up, a timeless story, almost fifty years on, as powerful and as epic as it's ever been. It's a film about family, about love, about revenge and power, themes used in most modern movies but never more effectively than here, all deftly strung together into a three hour saga that hooks you in from the very first words, "I believe in America", and transports you through time and continent to that final iconic shot of the door shutting on Kay Corleone's doubtful, fearful face.

The first time I saw it, I remember so clearly being transfixed by the world Francis Ford Coppola and Mario Puzo had created, by its characters, it's cinematography, by the haunting and operatic score, by the dialogue. The scene of no return for me, when I knew this film was really something I'd never forget, and watch countless times more, came right in the middle, that now infamous restaurant scene. Michael, the war hero who until now had shunned involvement in the family business, emerges from the bathroom and opens fire on the two men who have gravely injured his father. I remember my heart was in my mouth. I didn't want Michael to do it. I wanted him to keep hold of his goodness, to continue to shun that world, to be happy with Kay. But he did do it, and it devastated me, because his life was forever and irreparably changed. As a teenager who, up until that point, hadn't really ventured into what you'd call classic cinema, it became a milestone moment for me and ignited my love for what a film could truly be. It instantly became a favourite.

It's an obvious answer to the question "what's the greatest movie of all time?", and again it's all subjective, but for me The Godfather reigns supreme and nothing really comes close. It's a film I'm always up for watching, and a story that never fails to break my heart. It is, there's no doubt in my mind, a twenty four carat bona fide masterpiece.

El Camino: A Breaking Bad Movie (2019)

Not necessary, yet fulfilling

[8/10 · 18 July 2020]

I was sceptical when I heard a Breaking Bad movie was coming, but nonetheless intrigued. Although I felt the show was perfectly wrapped up, and said pretty much all it needed to say, my trust in Vince Gilligan and his team following the success of Better Call Saul, a prequel I avoided for ages and then ingested as if it had an expiry date, gave me the confidence that it would be worthwhile. And, for the most part, it didn't disappoint.

It feels like a Breaking Bad episode, a feature length one at that, but it also tells us something new and gives the same closure to Jesse's story that Walt got in the final episode of the main show. This is Aaron Paul's moment to take full centre stage without Cranston's shadow looming over him and he grabs the opportunity - he gives a fine, layered performance here and one of his very best.

If Breaking Bad left you with a few questions, then El Camino answers them. It might not have been necessary and some fans would rather it didn't exist, but I'm glad it does. I always wanted to know what happened to Jesse Pinkman and now I've found out. Just go along for the ride and enjoy being in the company, again, of one of television's most popular characters.

Breaking Bad (2008–2013)

The greatest television drama ever made

[10/10 · 18 July 2020]

The Sopranos, The Wire - you could make a case for both of these shows being the greatest television drama of all time. Game of Thrones, Boardwalk Empire, Mad Men - perhaps. But nothing, for me, comes close to Breaking Bad in terms of characterisation, story and consistent quality. It's a show that takes you on a long, often slow (but always captivating) journey towards a crescendo of catastrophe in its final eight episodes, an ending that's a series of gut punches and shock twists, satisfying and inevitable to it's last iconic frame.

Bryan Cranston's portrayal of Walter White, Heisenberg, The Man who Knocks, whatever you want to call him, is nothing short of sublime. The clumsy, academic family man who's never reached his full potential, the kind of guy who's invisible in a crowd, who's been underestimated by everyone around him for far too long, slowly but surely, piece by piece, becomes a different kind of man - a hardened and ruthless drug kingpin who gradually destroys the lives of his loved ones and all those who dare to belittle or underrate him. For me, Breaking Bad isn't simply a show about a man turning to the dark side (trust me, it gets very dark), it's about a man who's finally given the opportunity to prove his doubters wrong, a man who resents how people see him and heads down the wrong path because he needs to and, eventually, chooses to. The death sentence he's given in the pilot forces him to do the unthinkable, and by the time his health situation has improved, it's too late - he gets a kick out of who he's become, life finally means something for him.

There are many great episodes, too many to name here, but I'll never forget how I felt after watching Ozymandias - I was stunned into silence for the rest of the night. And it's not just memorable for *that* moment, it's scene for scene, word for word, one of the greatest pieces of television ever made. You'll wait a long time to get there, but it's worth the wait and you'll witness some other, equally fantastic, episodes along the way.

One last thing: I like Skyler. From what I gather, she's not a fan favourite and I understand why, but Anna Gunn's portrayal of the wife trying to hold everything together, whether she's aware of Walt's sins or not, is brilliant. And I feel sorry for her. There, I said it. Jesse, Hank, Gus, Mike, Saul - all fantastic characters. I even grew to like Marie by the end. Who'd have thought?

Dog Day Afternoon (1975)

The greatest heist film of all time

[10/10 · 18 July 2020]

Dog Day Afternoon is more than a simple heist film. For me, it's unrivalled in the genre because it genuinely has something to say about the world but it also delivers us a captivating story. It's also a triumph in film naturalism - it's clear it's based on a true story, but it's also a movie at the same time.

By the ten minute mark, you're already inside the bank watching Sonny and Sal brandishing weapons, haplessly demanding what they've come for, right in the thick of the action, surrounded by a cast of relatable and interesting bank employees. The rest, as they say, is history. The slow, sometimes painful to watch, and at times hilarious, unravelling of their plan, as well as their desperation growing into fear as the media circus outside the building explodes into a frenzy, makes this film endlessly riveting and hugely entertaining.

Al Pacino, who should have won the Academy Award for this film, has never been better and leads with unpredictability and intensity. John Cazale, who I've no doubt would be considered one of the great film character actors if he were alive today (he can wear that title even so, in my opinion), was robbed of a nomination for his role as the vulnerable Sal. The smoking scene alone should have clinched it.

My favourite thing about Dog Day Afternoon, and there are many to choose from, is the sound. There's no soundtrack, only a few diegetic songs included, and the very careful use of gunshots. You think of a heist film, you hear gunshots. That's the way most Hollywood movies work now - to go in "all guns blazing". But Sidney Lumet (I think this is his finest piece of direction) uses only a few in the entire film, and you have to wait a while before you hear the first. When it comes, it rings out with enormous power and it becomes a key moment.

What else can I say? As a very keen film fan, I often struggle to answer the question "what are your favourite movies?" because I love so many, but Dog Day Afternoon is one that always comes to mind. Top ten, definitely. Top five, almost certainly.

Oh, one more thing: Attica! Attica! Attica!