Bovie Movie

Comic Strip supremo Peter Richardson’s blunt satire on Hollywood’s habit of rewriting history stars Christian Slater as the “real” Winston Churchill, a gung-ho American GI, and Neve Campbell as a spirited Princess Elizabeth, heir to the British throne. The Anglo-American twosome team up to foil a dastardly plot by Hitler (Antony Sher) to topple the monarchy via a backdoor deal with Britain’s traitorous aristocrats. It’s an amusingly bizarre notion, but Richardson’s film fails to deliver on the promise of its premise, despite game performances. Churchill has its moments but the humour is wildly erratic, and the one-joke plot rapidly runs out of steam and sinks from being a giggle into being downright silly. And as a satire, this misses the easy target of the US’s historical self-centredness by a country mile. 

In this western sequel, Billy the Kid, as portrayed by Emilio Estevez with scene-stealing shamelessness, comes across as little more than a violent show-off. Kiefer Sutherland and Lou Diamond Phillips also return from the first film, but this time round the tone is less certain, wavering uneasily between a serious appreciation of the western (in particular the grand visual punch of John Ford) and an in-joke with the audience. There are bumps in the script that should have been flattened in pre-production, while attempts at earnest comment largely slip by unnoticed. 

Buckles are truly swashed and derring-do effectively done in this 12th-century adventure, which simply sets out to entertain handsomely and does so with a great deal of dash, flash and panache. Kevin Costner is more “Indiana Hood” than the Locksley lad of yore and Alan Rickman is a joy to behold as the panto-styled Sheriff of Nottingham, while Morgan Freeman’s cultured Moor — Robin’s early saviour — is a commanding, though unlikely, medieval presence. But it’s director Kevin Reynolds who deserves the most praise for disguising such overfamiliar events with imaginative staging and a constantly roving camera, and turning in such an enjoyable popcorn epic. And, yes, this is the film where Bryan Adams sings (Everything I Do) I Do It for You during the final credits. 

John Travolta hoped to star in it to shatter his Grease image, and Elton John was even asked to turn it into a Broadway musical, but when this highly anticipated movie version of Anne Rice’s cult novel finally came to the screen it was a decidedly anaemic affair. All sumptuously dressed up with nowhere really interesting to go, director Neil Jordan’s lavish adaptation is a stylised horror tale that lacks the emotional depth and jet-black darkness of the doom-laden tome. Too many other similar ideas have since come down the undead path, seriously undermining this stark vision of the hellish torture of being cursed to live for ever. Still, Tom Cruise is fine as the vampire Lestat, whose close relationship with handsome Brad Pitt forms an erotic twist on the Dracula legend. Kirsten Dunst impresses as the child adopted by the pair, but it’s Antonio Banderas who gives the most full-blooded performance as the bisexual Armand. This is a beautifully mounted production that’s low on divine decadence and Rice’s celebrated charnel house morbidity, but high on glossy Grand Guignol and evocative elegance. 

This booming and bloody Second World War drama could have illuminated a little-known aspect of the conflict, in which native Americans used their language as a military code that couldn’t be cracked by the Japanese. Yet this fascinating angle is explored with the heaviest of hands by director John Woo. There’s a nicely performed relationship between genial Navajo Adam Beach and cynical sergeant Nicolas Cage, but it’s buried beneath a barrage of gargantuan explosions and melodramatic skirmishes, orchestrated with a surprising scarcity of excitement or energy. Following their moment of Hollywood magic with Face/Off, Woo and Cage seem to be going through the motions — or worse, taking themselves too seriously. 

The second directorial outing of screen legend Robert De Niro ambitiously charts the secret history of America’s Central Intelligence Agency, from the beginning of the Second World War to the Bay of Pigs invasion in 1961. There’s little chance here for star Matt Damon to reprise his Jason Bourne-style superspy heroics in his role as Edward Wilson, a patriotic desk jockey who sacrifices everything (his marriage and perhaps even his soul) to become an automaton in this vast bureaucratic machine. Concentrating on the humdrum reality of paperwork, files and folders, Eric Roth’s well-researched screenplay strips the spy movie of its glamour, while telescoping history through one man’s personal tragedy. It’s a bold narrative move that succeeds only fitfully — not least because De Niro’s ploddingly competent direction robs the drama of the impact it deserves. Terrific supporting turns from William Hurt, John Turturro and Angelina Jolie (as Wilson’s wife) add gloss, but they can’t prevent the film from feeling as coldly dispassionate as its protagonist. 

Demian Lichtenstein utilises the brusque visual and verbal style of Reservoir Dogs in this tired crime comedy thriller. He also over-indulges in the camera pyrotechnics that characterised his time as a director of commercials and pop videos. Kurt Russell (who played Elvis Presley in the 1979 TV movie Elvis) gets to dress like the King once more, as the leader of a gang planning a raid on a Las Vegas casino. Kevin Costner, meanwhile, attempts to rekindle his career, playing determinedly against type as a foul-mouthed sociopath. On the whole, this is a crass and calculatingly excessive bid for cult kudos. 

This independent production find New York cab driver Glenn Atkins (Fred Dennis) finding a valuable piece of paper in his vehicle at the end of the day. The paper is a map that leads to $400,000 of stolen money hidden near the Hudson River. Glenn makes love to his wife, a fellow employee and the wife of the man who planned the robbery of the Florida bank. The longer he holds on to the map, the more danger he encounters in this drama of a man who risks his life for the hidden money.

Down in the forest something stirred — the sound of critics giving the bird to this eco-worthy cartoon adventure, because many felt it force-fed its tale of planet-saving too strenuously. The criticism was a bit unfair, however, as the story of a fairy, a fruit bat and a tiny lumberjack battling a malevolent spirit bent on destruction is well-meaning and thoroughly entertaining for youngsters. Its target audience won’t mind the preachiness and adults, even though they may be a little bored with it themselves, can be sure of the film’s good intentions. 

Sean Connery is in majestic form as the Franciscan friar who, with novice Christian Slater, investigates a series of murders in a remote 14th-century abbey, incurring the wrath of vicious inquisitor F Murray Abraham in the process. Director Jean-Jacques Annaud has decoded Umberto Eco’s cryptic bestseller with an eye-blinkingly ornate visual style. While the inhabitants of the abbey are mostly as grotesque as gargoyles, the Holmesian figure of Connery dominates and elucidates with the kind of deductive brilliance that Conan Doyle’s sleuth was to display centuries later — though Watson would have found this riddle not at all elementary.