Bovie Movie

Daniel Craig effortlessly makes James Bond his own, and the 21st movie in the series goes back to basics for this resoundingly entertaining spy adventure. GoldenEye director Martin Campbell has obviously been watching the Bourne franchise, and here he gives the superspy a gritty makeover, upping the violence content (the opening sequence, shot in grainy black and white, is particularly brutal). He also strips Bond of much of the slightly camp humour — thus no appearance from gadget-man Q. The plot is essentially an origins story, as a rough-around-the-edges Bond gains his two zeros (the two authorised kills he needs for his infamous licence) before tackling villain Le Chiffre (a splendidly thin-lipped Mads Mikkelsen) in a game of high-stakes poker. Craig’s humanised, more flawed interpretation of the role balances Campbell’s physical direction and co-writer Paul Haggis’s sparing wit, while Eva Green provides an alluring love interest. Apart from a chaotic and overlong last act, this is a triumphant new beginning. 

Poverty and repression have rarely looked so picturesque as in this glossy and well-meaning, but self-important and grotesquely naive melodrama. Clive Owen’s maverick relief worker throws himself into aiding the destitute of Ethiopia, Cambodia and Chechnya, ranting at every opportunity, but never discussing the causes of Third World misery in any depth. By offending friend and foe alike, he only succeeds in alienating an audience whose credibility has already been strained by do-gooding socialite Angelina Jolie, as she periodically abandons husband Linus Roache to lend Owen some moral and romantic support. 

Antonio Banderas and Catherine Zeta-Jones return for this playful sequel to 1998’s The Mask of Zorro. The action, once again directed by Martin Campbell, is set in 1850, with the pair now married and parents to a ten-year-old boy (an irritating Adrian Alonso). It’s far more tongue-in-cheek than its Saturday matinée-style predecessor, tinkering with US history as Zorro swoops in to help the people of California who are being prevented from becoming the 31st state of the union by a mysterious medieval organisation. However, Zorro’s exploits cause a domestic crisis, resulting in his wife divorcing him. The caped hero’s drunken mooching that follows is tediously wasteful, slowing the pace and diluting the excitement generated during the spirited opening scenes. But even when the action resumes, it’s undermined by too much cheesy slapstick. Consequently, while the film is colourful and entertaining, it’s not quite the relentless swashbuckler it should be. 

Snapped ropes, dislodged boulders and crumbling ledges are just some of the perils facing mountaineer Chris O’Donnell in this predictable but watchable adventure from Mask of Zorro director Martin Campbell. Now working as a photographer, O’Donnell is still haunted by memories of the harrowing climb that ended in his father’s death. When an expedition to scale K2 (the world’s second-highest mountain) goes badly awry, a group that includes O’Donnell’s estranged sister (Robin Tunney) and reckless airline boss Bill Paxton faces imminent death. O’Donnell makes a decidedly uncharismatic hero, but some enjoyable action sequences almost make up for the clichéd characterisations. 

Zorro may wear a mask, but there’s no disguising the fact that this is an absolutely splendid swashbuckler. Anthony Hopkins plays the original righter of wrongs, who hands over his rapier, and his mission, to the younger Antonio Banderas. Catherine Zeta-Jones, as the fiery heroine, proves she’s a match for the men in the action sequences. Director Martin Campbell (following on from the success of blockbuster Bond movie GoldenEye) makes the most of the dramatic swordplay and paces the film perfectly to its explosive conclusion.