Action emperor John Woo raises hell in the Pacific for this noisy WWII epic, which is grounded in real events. The grand-canvas battle scenes rule, but Nic Cage's hammy turn as an emotionally scarred hero charged with guarding a Navajo code-talker lets the side down. Still, the battle sequences are up there with Sam Fuller's best.
DVD EXTRAS: Several backstage documentaries, commentary by a genuine Navajo code-talker, shared chat between Cage and co-star Christian Slater.
An immaculate, determinedly unsentimental Marc Forster film, with breathtakingly honest performances from Halle Berry and, especially, Billy Bob Thornton. Death Row prison guard Thornton's family are traditionally racist; Berry's husband (Sean "Puffy" Combs) is executed. In a pit of despair, an unlikely, colour-blind love blooms between the two. One of 2002's best.
DVD EXTRAS: Extra footage, cast and film-makers commentaries, isolated soundtrack.
Director Peter Watkins' mid-1960s work for the BBC still shines. Culloden recreated the famous battle as if covered by a modern news team—a radical approach for the time. More controversially, The War Game showed that nuclear war was an unwinnable nightmare, and was consequently banned by the Beeb, though it picked up an Oscar when released theatrically in 1966.
Despite the presence of the hapless Josh Hartnett, Tim Blake Nelson (him from O Brother, Where Art Thou) stirs up a sprightly, sinister revamp of Othello. Mekhi Phifer's fine as the school basketball hero who blows his future when jealous Josh, in the lago role, convinces him Julia Stiles is a duplicitous Desdemona. All this and Martin Sheen trying to look non-presidential as the sports coach.
In his final starring role, Richard Harris glowers impressively as the Irish underworld patriarch in Don Boyd's inspired relocation of Shakespeare's King Lear to contemporary Liverpool, Sadly Boyd directs with a low-voltage energy which flattens out intense emotion and visceral violence into brightly lit, blandly shot TV cop drama.
Atmospheric 1967 Norman Jewison thriller, and its weaker 1970 sequel from Gordon Douglas. The first, which won Oscars for Best Picture and Rod Steiger, is dryly observed, with Steiger's bigoted Southern sheriff warming to Sidney Poitier's detective as they solve a murder—a big anti-racism statement in its time. The second takes Poitier's Tibbs character to San Francisco, for no pressing reason.
Two years before GoodFellas, Jonathan Demme nailed the comical backstage soap opera element of modern-day mobsters and their brassy womenfolk in this cheery 1988 farce. Michelle Pfeiffer is the blousy Mafia wife who wants out, while Matthew Modine plays the FBI agent on her trail. It feels a little too clean and lightweight today, but the roots of The Sopranos are buried in here somewhere.
Jane Campion's second film (1990) tells the life story of Janet Frame, a New Zealand author who overcame poverty, chronic shyness and (misdiagnosed) schizophrenia to achieve international acclaim. Kerry Fox stars, while Campion hones her own stylistic match of trippy fantasy and gauche intimacy. Earnest, with detours into the ethereal.
DVD EXTRAS: Three interviews with Campion, filmographies, trailer, biography of Janet Frame.
Why 511? Because, on June 2, 2002, New Order performed in front of 10,000 rain-lashed revellers at Finsbury Park, and their 16-song set list comprised five Joy Division tracks and 11 by the band they became following the suicide of Ian Curtis.
Leaving aside the Paul Williams soundtrack and Jodie Foster's performance (which aren't bad), Alan Parker's 1930s kiddie gangster musical, which dates back to 1976, combines a dozen bad things, including clunky dialogue, child actors, obvious sets and dull direction. Kids would probably find it patronising, and to the rest of us it falls somewhere between cloyingly cute and downright dodgy.
DVD EXTRAS: Trailers, storyboards, trivia, character notes, photo gallery.