My Top Ten Movies of 2017

2017 has been on balance a rather grim year out in the real world, ending up on a sad note personally for me. So rather than dwell on that - back into a darkened room I go. Here’s my nobody-gives-a-damn top ten movies list of 2017 (UK releases what I saw - for anyone feeling pedantic).

10: Free Fire: Ben Wheatley’s absurdly funny, loud, brutal, crowd-pleasing 70s shoot-out-a-thon. I like Wheatley when he’s being difficult and obtuse (A Field In England), but I like him even more when he’s letting a deranged Sharlto Copley off the chain in a downtown Boston warehouse (actually Brighton, naturally – where they had to re-assure shoppers next door when the gunfire kicked off), with a couple of IRA nutters and an arsenal large enough to stage a military coup in a South American dictatorship. Barnstorming and hilarious.

9: Blade Runner 2049: Regular readers will be aware of my difficulties with Blade Runner 2049. I’ve seen it three times already and I’m still not sure that I like it. But I am sure that I admire it. Beautiful, thoughtful, precise, elegant filmmaking. Whether Blade Runner 2049 goes on to become a beloved classic (remember Blade Runner was largely considered a failure in its time) is something of which I’m far from certain. But I do feel that we got a movie made by smart, dedicated people who genuinely love and respect the original, and worked extremely hard to preserve the subtlety and mystery present in source, while expanding and taking the story in interesting new directions. It’s probably too long, it’s definitely too slow. But it does nothing to dishonour my all time favourite movie – and for me that alone is little short of miraculous.

8: The Death Of Stalin: It is probably equal parts a measure of the satirical genius of Armando Iannucci and a reflection of the absurd and ghastly political times that we are living through right now, that a true story about the death of a terrible dictator and all the nasty, duplicitous, backstabbing, murdering, cowardly, fearful and near-genocidal activities that swirled around this awful period in history contained more belly laughs than any other movie I saw this year – including Captain Underpants.

7: Paddington 2: …and in such dreary days (not to mention my personally downcast state of mind a few weeks ago) what a wonder that a small animated bear with a marmalade fixation could deliver such a perfectly judged and joyfully received reminder of how we can still find and bring out the best in each other – if that is what we look for. Had me crying by the end with joy and laughter - for the second time running. That’s just rude.

6: Moonlight: Possibly the most remarkable film of the year. A black-cast urban-set deprived-background, drug and dysfunctional family themed, coming of age boy-to-man drama comes with a whole heap of ghettoised stylistic and genre expectations - and Moonlight confounds every single one of them with filmmaking of utterly poetic and elegiac grace and brilliance. Such accomplished, original and tender work from only a second time director is extraordinary in itself. That Naomi Harris filmed her entire superb performance as the drug-addicted mother spanning nearly twenty years in just three days work due to visa restrictions is just one example of the incredible sure-footedness of Barry Jenkins’ direction, and the dedication to honest, deeply-felt storytelling of everyone involved.

5: Raw: Speaking of tough coming-of-age experiences. It’s also pretty tricky being a strict vegetarian teenager developing cannibalistic tendencies after a savage hazing in a veterinarian collage. This French-Belgian drama-horror is wonderfully dark, unsettling, touching, sensual and brutal. With a wry smile just perceptible among the grue.

4: Get Out: Blimey! Part horror, part social-satire, part Stepford-Wives-esque mystery chiller, part unsettling racial drama, part dark comedy - All original and gloriously accomplished entertainment from first-time feature writer / director Jordan Peele. Brilliant and refreshing.

3: The Handmaiden: Three hours of twisty, Korean whodunit, whosdoingit and whoswhodoingittowho period-set psychological drama might sound like it’s going to be hard work. It isn’t. It’s funny, it’s thrilling, it’s gorgeous… and it’s very very very very sexy. What more do you want?

2: Manchester By The Sea: One of the quietest, most understated, almost inertly introvertedly performed dramas I’ve seen. And one that punched me in the gut harder than almost any I can remember.

1: Dunkirk: Christopher Nolan’s habit of making my favourite film of the year is getting almost too predictable by this point. His brilliance with intricate, ingenious, precision-tooled plotting and gargantuan but lovingly honed visual prowess is deployed so seemingly effortlessly and with such regularity that it might become easy to overlook. But here he’s put all that interwoven multi-timeline brilliance, that painterly IMAX palette, that artistic care with massive commercial clout at the service of his most simple, direct and powerfully honest tale yet. Dunkirk dispenses with historic sweep, CliffsNotes audience hand-holding, revisionist political analysis, or indeed even the need for something as seemingly essential to any thrilling war movie – an actual present enemy – to reduce this powerful and honourable tale of one of the most audaciously heroic defeats in military history to one simple, driving, intense and universal experience: The desire to get home.

My Top Ten Movies of 2015

10: Star Wars: The Force Awakens.

Truth be told, this may only be in my top ten due to affection and nostalgia. I'm still waiting for J.J. Abrams to direct a film that is truly brilliant in its own right rather than efficiently riffing on his adoration for the movie adventures of his, and my, childhood. Star Wars: The Force Awakens is a perfectly decent caper but one which feels so much more because of the weight of cultural significance that we have invested into this world... and the sense of sheer relief that it's NOT another Phantom Menace. I've always maintained a sneaking admiration for what George was trying to achieve with those prequels: Something operatic, politically rich and mythically grandiose, an ambition mostly undone by his tin ear for dialog, leadenly delivered by poorly directed actors at a loss to find their feet in his CGI imaginarium. This new Star Wars has, so far, less of that epic sweep and scope, and many of its delights are recycled from the originals. But crucially what is does have, in spades, is FUN. Sprightly, seemingly effortless wit and action, delivered by real people, often in real locations, actually interacting with a real environment around them. It's hard to overstate just what a welcome feeling that is. A tribute act compared to the original it may be, but those are still some fine tunes.

9: Sicario.

A phenomenally tense thriller centring around a shady US drug enforcement task force attempting to take out a Mexican cartel, Sicario tackles familiar and often clichéd narrative territory with fresh verve and complex amorality. Featuring a clutch of superb, understated performances (with the marvellous Emily Blunt front and centre) from a principle cast essaying assorted FBI, CIA, special forces and other individuals with even murkier pasts. Many with shifting, hard-to-read agendas. Features possibly the finest stationary car chase in cinema.

8: The Tale Of Princess Kaguya.

With the future of Studio Ghibli in doubt, it's been a particularly painful two year wait for this, possibly their last masterpiece, to make it to these shores. But if it is to be the end, what an end. The very definition of a true fairy tale, this is a slight and gentle story, animated with the most delicate of brush strokes. Pastel watercolour beauty bleeding to white at the edges of the screen as if lifted straight from some museum preserved manuscript of a forgotten time and place. The running time and gentle pace may try the patience of some. But tune out the world and you can lose yourself in its beauty and wish never to return.

7: Bridge Of Spies.

Spielberg, Hanks, The Coen Brothers, a true story (mostly). You know you are in safe hands. Bridge Of Spies is no great revelation, rather it's exactly as expertly crafted as you would expect. It is however, rather wittier than you might imagine. And the brilliantly authored inertness of Mark Rylance's potential agent playing against Hanks' fast-talking, yet noble lawyer (remember those?) is an absolute joy to behold.

6: The Martian.

Ridley Scott's best film in some years. Exciting, funny, and shot through with old-fashioned heroic stoicism as Matt Damon's astronaut is marooned alone on Mars and has to survive on his smarts and his wisecracking soliloquisms. Shot through with a rare uncynical "Yay For Science!" motif. It's as if Castaway had been directed by Carl Sagan. Which is a good thing.

5: The Diary Of A Teenage Girl.

This bravura coming of age tale follows the travails a fifteen year old girl in 1970s San Francisco as she embarks on a sexual relationship with her mother's boyfriend and a heap of other complex, broken family and growing up issues. Bold and honest filmmaking that is nothing like as harsh to watch as you might imagine because it is also empowering, delightful and laugh-out-loud funny, and is visually as full of brio and invention as its creatively imaginative lead character. A refreshing delight.

4: Song Of The Sea.

Tomm Moore's second animated feature (following The Secret Of The Kells) is a beautiful, sweet and heartbreaking piece of Irish folklore fantasy that manages to dig deep into rich and whimsical mythology, while absolutely grounding its emotions in the story of a young girl dealing with real and tragic family drama (rather like Pan's Labyrinth... but with less torture). On top of this, the animation is a gobsmacking mixed-media masterpiece, as if Michel Ocelot, Hayao Miyazaki and Sylvain Chomet had all collaborated on the one movie.

3: Mad Max: Fury Road.

The most full-on, knock you flat, non-stop, crunching, brutal, old-school action movie of the year. Mad Max's first outing in three decades retains all the strange, colourful, insane elements that made the originals so iconic, and (unlike Star Wars) it doesn't feel like it's trying to simply live up to past glories. This one kicks the previous movies (not to mention the whole Fast and Furious franchise) in the face and drags them kicking and screaming though the post-apocalyptic waste in its dust storm wake. Director and creator George Miller is now 70. No, really. No-one else can quite believe it either.

2: Ex Machina.

Alex Garland, long-time writer / collaborator on many of Danny Boyle's movies, graduates magnificently with his directorial debut. A chilling, twisting sci-fi chamber piece set in clinical Kubrickian isolation. Four actors. One house. Humans and machines testing and deceiving each other. Morally murky, powerfully intense and superbly performed.

1: Whiplash.

It may be no more an accurate depiction of life in a prestigious music college than Black Swan was an honest tale of studying in an elite dance academy. What Whiplash is, is a fun, triumphant, indie-spirited maniacal howl of a movie. A study of artistic obsession, abuse of power and the drive to succeed against all odds. It boasts a riotously funny script, genuine heart, freewheeling performances (actorly and musical), and in J. K. Simmons' band leader, a thermonuclear full-leather-jacket onslaught of verbal abuse that is hilarious and terrifying in equal measure(s). Quite my tempo.

Apocalypse Now... and Again.

Great news. Pacific Rim 2 is confirmed. Reports of it being made according to Dogme 95 rules still TBC.

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire (2013)

Picking up some months after the events of the first movie; Catching Fire finds our heroine, Katniss Everdeen, back in her home district and re-kindling, perhaps, her nascent romance with Gale (who was somewhat pushed to the sidelines of the first instalment) while struggling to walk a fine line of conformity and performance in her new, dangerously high-profile existence.

Incoming helmer Francis Lawrence, with relatively little big-budget movie experience, directs with a steady hand, keeping the look and tone consistent with the first movie. The opening act here is particularly strong, laced with political manoeuvring, surreptitiously tightening the screws and gently deepening even some of the more seemingly garish characters (the delirious Effie Trinket is particularly well-served this time round). This slow-burning first-half also allows Jennifer Lawrence, once again, to remind us all why she is one of the finest upcoming young actors of her generation, delivering duct-troubling eulogies from even the most threadbare material.

Things do however take a minor turn for the ho-hum once the new games get underway. Co-champion Peeta gets less to do this time and mostly just follows in Katniss's footsteps, which is a shame after his stronger showing the first time around and further undermines the love-triangle backdrop theoretically still being toyed with. More problematic though is the amount of repetition and familiarity, with many of the same beats being played as we experienced in the previous competition. For a near two-and-a-half hour movie, Catching Fire rather struggles to do what it says on the tin, taking rather too long to find its way out of the pitfalls of having to play out another set of games with a more-or-less matching dramatic arc to the first. Until, when finally the first really startling new development hits.... the credits role.

Reputation has it that the third and final book (being adapted, a-la Harry Potter, into two upcoming movies) is the weakest of the three, and so, while this central episode is a mostly solid outing that doesn't significantly squander the good work done by the first, it is nonetheless something of a concern then that it does have a touch of a holding pattern about it, teasing us that all the real fireworks are being held back till next year.

Rating: 3/5

Gravity (2013)

A masterful, lean, and utterly gripping action-thriller. Alfonso Cuarón further proves himself to be one of the most exciting and innovative directors working today. Sandra Bullock knocks it out of the park with a long-overdue starring role worthy of her talents, and 3D reaches a new zenith in a totally mesmerising, immersive and staggeringly beautiful FX tour-de-force. It is, ultimately, popcorn. But it's Michelin three-star popcorn.

Rating: 5/5

Elysium (2013)

Kinda like District 9, only kinda like not quite as good. Neill Blomkamp STOP WAVING THE FUCKING CAMERA AROUND!

Rating: 3/5

The Wolverine (2013)

Hugh Jackman and Walk The Line director James Mangold make a modest... ahem... stab at rescuing The Wolverine from bloated too-many-mutants boredom with this stand-alone adventure that owes more to Clint Eastwood's man with no name than it does to the Stan Lee back-catalogue.

Logan, once again alone and wandering the wilderness, is summoned to Japan by a man from his distant past and becomes caught up in a power struggle between the dynastic family of a powerful corporation, Yakuza gangsters, and some shadowy ninjas (are there any other type?).

On the plus side, for at least two thirds of the movie this keeps The Wolverine grounded amongst real people; vulnerable, disorientated, and in grimly emotional turmoil. Hugh Jackman doesn't have to work very hard to pull this off, his powerful presence and comfortable familiarity with the role playing to the strengths of a tale that commendably cuts free of mutant hi-jinks for most of its running time, and indulges in some fairly obvious, but pleasingly underplayed culture-clash elements inherent in this setting.

It's kind of a shame then that the film takes a jarring turn into the third act, feeling duty bound to deliver some big FX silliness. The tonal wrench feels deeply uncomfortable and also leaves great gaping holes in the arcs of previously intriguing characters.

Not the disaster of his previous solo outing. There is good work in the brooding western-influenced tale and for the most part things coast along nicely on Jackman's effortless charisma. If only they could have held their storytelling nerve through to the end.

Rating: 3/5

Pacific Rim (2013)

Pacific Rim: a review: GIANT MONSTERS FIGHTING GIANT ROBOTS! MORE GIANT ROBOTS FIGHTING MORE GIANT MONSTERS!!!!! EVEN MORE GIANT MONSTERS, EVEN MORE GIANT ROBOTS, EVEN MORE FIGHTING!!!!!!! (something something rubbish dialogue and cheesy characters) SORRY I DIDN'T CATCH THAT, IT MUST HAVE BEEN THE FUCK-OFF GIANT ROBOTS FIGHTING THE FUCK-OFF GIANT MONSTERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and that concludes my detailed academic analysis of Pacific Rim.

Rating: 4/5

Man Of Steel (2013)

The writing and producing team behind the impressively gritty and twisted Dark Knight trilogy here tackle the long touted reboot of DC's premier be-caped hero, and then hand their dour-toned opus to the director of the daft but enjoyable "300" and barely watchable mess "Sucker Punch". About 50% of a great movie emerges somewhat dazed from the collision.

While Batman was a natural fit for a grimy, shadowy approach, Superman has always been a hero painted, literally and emotionally, in primary colours. How to give this icon some dramatic depth was always going to be a problem, a problem that the classic 1978 movie solved by the miraculously fortuitous casting of Christopher Reeve. The most likeable, heartfelt, honest-to-goodness heroic lunk that ever graced the screen. In the midst of cartoon silliness he gave his every last ounce of charm, wit and stoic integrity to the role. Making it his own for a generation to come. So much so that poor old Brandon Routh in "Superman Returns" was reduced to having to deliver a very creditable but rather distracting facsimile of Reeve's performance. Man Of Steel does not make this mistake. Gone are the bumbling doltish mannerisms of Clark Kent. Henry Cavill plays it straight and moody. Not always entirely memorably perhaps, but certainly free of unhelpful associations.

Act one is where this latest version scores most highly. Krypton is a stunningly realised world, full of beautiful organic technology. A triumph of design, and, admirably, Zach Snyder slows his frenetic camera down a touch to let us luxuriate in its majestic scale. The set-up of Kal-El's birth, and the circumstances of his departure, along with his home-world's fate and Zod's pursuit are all given a thorough reworking and feel far more effectively integrated into this origin story than in previous iterations. Top marks so far.

The quieter middle act is where this new work had perhaps the toughest act to follow. I'll make no bones about it, I consider Richard Donner's "Superman" to be about as near perfect a true comic book movie as we've ever seen. and its finest, most richly satisfying elements are those tied to Clark's childhood mid-west upbringing. The quiet moments that he shares with his adoptive parents (supported of course by John Williams' most heart-wrenching strings) and the understated loss of Glenn Ford's "Pa" bringing the realisation of the limits of his powers in the face of human frailty. Kevin Costner does fine work in the same role, and all these scenes are well handled, emotive and restrained. But somehow it still doesn't quite match up.

So, finally it's on to the inevitable smack-down. Michael Shannon's Zod is white-knuckle intense, and the action is certainly immense, but boy-oh-boy does it drag on. About twenty minutes of excess noisy destruction could have been trimmed and all of it is far, far too serious. "Man Of Steel" may be the most humourless superhero movie to date. There is but one (superb) visual gag at about the half-way mark, and by two-hours plus, my brain was aching for a wisecrack to leaven the tone.

Nonetheless, it's a mostly impressive and creditable whack at a surprisingly tough nut. Cavill acquits himself well and hopefully sets up a role to grow into. But a lighter touch next time would go a long way.

Rating: 3/5

Nausicaa Of The Valley Of The Wind (Kaze no tani no Naushika) (1984)

Take one from anime legend Hayao Miyazaki in laying out his trademark spiritual fantasies and captivating ecological fables. Nausicaa has plenty of charm and a beautiful design to delight the senses. However it does feel somewhat a dry run for higher achievements to come. Thematically he covered the same ground again, with greater richness and depth in Princess Mononoke. The ideas are here, and, it must be commended, were somewhat ahead of the game, cropping up again and again in later western films such as Ferngully and Avatar, as well as much of Miyazaki's subsequent work. However the storytelling and character development is clunky. Heroes are po-faced and humourless, and even though the plot is simple, I frequently had to remind myself who was doing what to who and why, as motivations are not well defined. Worth seeking out, especially for fans of studio Ghibli. But not quite the early masterpiece sometimes claimed.

Rating: 3/5

Cloud Atlas (2012)

Tom Tykwer and the Wachowskis' ambitious joint-undertaking to bring to the screen David Mitchell's multi-stranded, epoch-straddling tale, has produced a striking but unwieldy behemoth of a movie. Long on invention, melodrama and scale... Perhaps shorter on discipline and a clear through-line of narrative purpose.

Pulling apart the symmetrical structure of the source novel and re-integrating its six storylines in a complex but still clearly delineated collage of characters and events is one of the project's more successful elements. There is a singularity of vision at work here that belies the portmanteau directorial approach, with the Wachowskis surprisingly tackling the quietly mannered tale of a 19th century sea voyage alongside the more obvious home turf of the two future-set sci-fi sections. Meanwhile the more art-house predisposed Tom Tykwer makes a solid stab at a dirty '70s thiller as well as the more restrained tones of his delicate inter-war period love story.

The film's major talking point has been the many multi-role performances by nearly all the principle cast. It is at once one of its strongest, and yet most flawed features. Let's get one non-issue out of the way: The minor controversy stirred up around a predominantly white cast playing other races is entirely bogus. There is a clear, one might even say vital, thematic purpose (even if narratively a tad obscure) to this decision, and it should also be noted that this is equal opportunities trans-ethnicity, with Black playing Asian and Asian playing Caucasian in the mix, before we even get started on the gender and age switching. It's a logical and often entertaining device that ties the disparate threads together. However, it is also highly distracting. Some of the more extreme make-over's are frankly just not very good. Fake, stiff and sometimes am-dram silly. Surprisingly poorly executed for a film with a substantial budget and directors experienced in period work and fantasy. This, coupled with some very shoddy accents results in the viewer frequently being pulled out of the drama for a few minutes of "oh its him again, you know, what's-his-face from that other chapter". Hugo Weaving gets a particularly short stick, bouncing from pantomime Nurse Ratched, via Mr Spock eyebrows to a painted, top-hatted shamanistic apparition that will incite guffaws of disbelief from anyone familiar with The Mighty Boosh. Possibly the first time in history that a film has sequelled its own spoof.

Not surprisingly then the most affecting segments are those that allow the actors to work largely free of such novelty. Halle Berry's intrepid San Francisco reporter, Doona Bae's tragic future-world slave replicant, and perhaps most touching and subtly played, the distant, clandestine affair of a young composer and his physicist lover provide the movie with at least some of the emotional centre of gravity it needs to hold the wilder elements in place.

The joy and frustration of Cloud Atlas is that when it is good, such as in those segments above, it has to abandon the threads too swiftly,  leaving you craving to be immersed more in those characters and stories. When it is bad, (Tom Hanks' geyserish gangster and buck-toothed surgeon, Post apocalyptic Mad Max juju speak, Last Of The Summer Wine antics in a Scottish bar), it just leaves one bewildered at the point of it all.

In spite of all this. There is something both endearing and admirable about the scale, bravery and vaulting ambition of Cloud Atlas. It's as entertaining as it is awkward, and as breathtaking as it is daft.

A Magnificent folly.

Rating: 3/5

Looper (2012)

In the near future, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, suspiciously made up to resemble a young Bruce Willis, is living a grimy, hollow life as a low-grade hit man, offing mob targets pushed under his trigger from a further, time-travel enabled future, when who should show up at the wrong end of his cannon than... bugger me, it's Bruce Willis!

Take one dollop of Source Code, mix in some 12 Monkeys, add a dash of Terminator, and then serve with a somewhat unexpected side order of Stephen King-style paranormal chills, and you're some way towards concocting Rian Johnson's pacy and highly entertaining science-fiction adventure. JG-L is pretty impressive in the lead role, channelling a young John McClane in a leather jacket and ending up more than half-way James Dean, which is just about right for the noirish '50s undertones of the heavily narrated first act. What follows doesn't stand up to too much close analysis, but this really doesn't matter once the chase kicks off. Looper delivers solid thrills, without going overblown and losing focus on its engaging central characters. Not the smartest temporal tale out there, but terrific fun while it lasts. Note: Also features Jeff Daniels in beard.

Rating: 4/5

Dredd (2012)

Karl Urban gives good chin in a pleasingly grimy, ballsy, UK independent production that obliterates the rotten memories of Stallone's badly misjudged '90s take on this cult comic favourite. Dredd the movie, like Dredd the character, is not particularly smart, and somewhat heavy-footed, but gets by with an effective mixture of substantial brutality, wry, underplayed humour, and a healthy dose of scathing totalitarian dystopia. It may not live up to the very best of its kind, but when, at around the half-way mark, the writers steal an iconic line from Robocop, I had to admit, "yep, fair play, it's earned the right to do that". And that's pretty high praise in my view.

Rating: 4/5

The Andromeda Strain or: How I Learned To Start Worrying and Love Dystopian Science-Fiction of the 1970s

What is science-fiction? What constitutes a good definition of the genre? Ask any random selection of people off the street, and you'll get wildly differing responses and examples. This is rarely the case with the thriller, romance or western, for example. The setting may change (although naturally rarely in the case of the western) and the style may evolve over the years, but we all have a pretty solid idea of the core themes of each of these genres, and apart from the odd left-field experiment, we'd rarely be wrong in our assumptions.

For many people science-fiction is practically synonymous with fantasy, tales of romantic adventures in far off made-up places with silly sounding names. For some the genre is, uniquely, tied up with the hardware on-screen, requiring the presence of spaceships, robots or lasers to qualify for the breed at all. Go back to the 1950s and many people would be unable to distinguish it from horror. As the b-movie monster genre, which mashed up the pulpiest elements of both, was the dominant form.

All this changed in 1968, when the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey utterly rewrote the rules and presented, almost for the first time to a mainstream cinema audience, what was already well established in literature, that science-fiction is a genre of ideas. One of the cornerstones of proper science-fiction is simply to look at the world we inhabit from a new angle, and ask ourselves "what if?"

For a few brief years in the wake of that 1968 watershed, science-fiction (at its best) strove to match its literary counterparts, and asked big questions about the nature of existence, the future of humanity, and ruminated, usually pretty negatively, upon the big concerns of the day, of nuclear annihilation, of world overpopulation or the end of scant resources. Granted, not all of these were entirely successful, and many of the movies from that era are as bound to the post-Watergate and Vietnam sense of disillusionment and late-hippy, early-ecological social background of the day as those '50s monster pics were to the all-American apple pie family and red menace politics of their time.

But while the quality may have varied, what they usually shared in common was a gritty, downbeat style, mature writing with a believable and un-romanticised treatment of their subject, and a harsh, sometimes nihilistic world view. For the uninitiated, some better examples of the era, beyond that Kubrick masterpiece, include eco-parable Silent Running, THX-1138 (a kind of rewrite of 1984, and an astonishingly bleak work from one young George Lucas), Soylent Green, Solaris (the hard-work but rewarding Russian answer to 2001), a couple of classics in the form of A Clockwork Orange and Planet Of The Apes and, less well remembered now, but still very strong after all these years, The Andromeda Strain.

In a nutshell: A returning space probe crashes to Earth in modern-day America, leaving the population of a small town mysteriously wiped out. As the military prevaricate around how to act, it's up to a group of scientists, sequestered covertly to an underground bunker, to figure out the cause and avert a potential disaster.

The Andromeda Strain was the first filmed adaptation of a work by author Michael Crichton, later the creator of ER and author and/or screenwriter behind mainstream mega-hits of variable quality from Jurassic Park and Westworld to Congo and, ahem, Twister, and while he may have sullied his name somewhat with his more ludicrous later stories, this early work from his hit 1969 novel benefits enormously from his years as a medical student, and the believable, procedural detail that he brings to bear.

This is not to say that we don't get a fair helping of the "stuff" of science-fiction. There's plenty of futuristic (for 1971) hardware, a form of alien life (although unlike any seen in cinema before) and even a few lasers near the climax. But the meat of movie lies elsewhere, principally with the drama going on between our band of lab-coat technicians who are, uniquely for that most short-changed breed, real people. Complex, difficult, tired, argumentative, largely unattractive, and totally believable as they struggle to deal with the situation they have found themselves dumped in. Particularly wonderful is the sharp-tongued, dour-faced, chain-smoking researcher essayed by Kate Reid, who brings a much needed but entirely natural sardonic wit to the otherwise dry proceedings.

Also effective, and again reflecting the changing attitudes of its time, is the largely negative impression the movie gives of the politicians and military commanders on its periphery, who are either incompetent or untrustworthy to some degree. It's a common stance to a modern audience, but must have been pretty coruscating at the time and reflects a sense of malaise that feels very much appropriate to its era and yet still rings true today.

Marshalling the project is director Robert Wise, who has often been looked down upon somewhat as something of a journeyman, a studio man... or to put it harshly, as some would, a hack. Generally a director for hire, who rarely, if ever, autered personal projects, I suspect he'd have no problem with that description of him, but that should not lead us to underestimate his rare skill as a filmmaker. In a remarkably varied career that began in the 1930s as film editor on, amongst others, Citizen Cane no less, he has directed several stone cold classics, from The Day The Earth Stood Still (1951, and the only science-fiction to rise above the pulp b-movie nonsense of its day), West Side Story, The Haunting (1963, and still one of the most effectively chilling ghost stories ever filmed), and The Sound Of Music. Yes! Hate it all you like, the third most successful movie of all time. He was quite some hack then.

Nearly forty years into his career by this point, Wise brings a freshness and daring to the project. The visual look is bleak, almost documentary like. The research centre that the film spends most of its running time inside looks and feels wholly believable in spite of a fairly modest budget. He recruited FX guru Douglas Trumball, who had worked not long before on 2001, and together they ensured a rigorous authenticity in the design of the technology involved, such as the communication screens, which actually worked for real, rather than being post-production optical effects as would have been the norm for the day.

There are some remarkable visual flourishes. In particular the use of split screens (back in vogue recently with its (over)use in the series "24"), which, as well as adding to the documentary look, are deployed, quite unexpectedly, in dream sequences which are at once both stark and abstract and infinitely more authentic feeling than a thousand misty dissolves that had previously been the visual shorthand for almost as long as cinema itself. In a few seemingly effortless, but intellectually rigorous moves, Robert Wise showed just how effectively he could make a film absolutely modern in look and feel (at a time when a young, hungry breed of independent spirited filmmakers were turning the old Hollywood studio system on its head) , yet completely without drawing attention to itself.

It's not a perfect movie to be sure. The obsessive procedures used during the "descent" into the complex drag on rather too long, and the finale indulges itself the venerable cliché of a countdown race that was rather clearly signposted from the off. But despite these minor flaws, The Andromeda Strain delivers in bleak, taught tension with a satisfyingly paranoid atmosphere and effectively essays a disturbing vision of an all too plausible disaster scenario.

And so it was, that for a few brief years science-fiction cinema seemed to have grown up and come of age, matching the new grimy realism that pervaded so much American cinema of the time. That is until May 25th 1977 in a galaxy far, far away....

Rating: 4/5

The Hunger Games (2012)

Occupying the familiar milieu of one of science-fictions' most well worn conceits, the dystopian future society, in this case an impoverished set of states ruled over by a decadent totalitarian elite, teenager Katniss Everdeen hunts and scrapes to keep her family alive until fate forces her to volunteer as "tribute" for the annual Hunger Games, a form of brutal gladiatorial combat designed to keep the masses in their place. Twenty-four youngsters will enter but only one can come out alive.

With Harry Potter now done and dusted, and the finish line of Twilight just around the corner it's no surprise that studios have been hunting for the next big teen-lit franchise to bring to the screen, or that Suzanne Collins' mega-selling sci-fi adventure would be one of those in the frame. But in spite of the driving linear narrative, featuring plenty of set-piece thrills and a love-triangle backdrop, adapting The Hunger Games, with its sullen heroin, extensive internal monologue, bleak atmosphere and brutal violence, may not have been the safe bet one might assume, and director Gary Ross and colleagues have trodden a tricky balancing act to a surprisingly effective outcome.

Crucial to their success is Jennifer Lawrence; already a rising star after her Oscar-nominated performance in "Winter's Bone" and who, as Katniss, delivers just the right combination of introspection, steely determination and just a touch of vulnerability. But much credit too must be given to the support of Woody Harrelson and Elizabeth Banks as her drunken mentor and absurdly coiffured escort respectively, both of whom carry roles that could easily have tipped into parody with much restraint. Indeed restraint could be the watchword for the whole production. On the page, the description of Capitol City's preening, rococo fashionistas seemed worryingly likely to translate to the screen with Fifth Element style campery. But this is kept firmly in check by an atmosphere of quietly unsettling disconnect from reality, always underplayed, and always taken seriously, underscoring the juxtaposition of the hollow, vacuous lives led by these privileged bourgeoisie against the spartan hand-to-mouth existence that is the only way of life our protagonist has ever known. Indeed these act-one sequences contain some of the film's best moments, effectively pulling the audience into Katniss' isolation and dreadful predicament with minimal fuss.

Once the games themselves kick into action, the need to achieve a target-audience friendly 12A rating does start to assert itself somewhat. The Hunger Games does not need graphic violence to deliver the thrills, but it does need things to become truly desperate, and in this regard the film seems to pull a few too many punches, with some deaths passing perhaps a touch inconsequentially, and little visible signs of the physical stresses of exposure, hunger and injury showing on the always clean and presentable contestants (or even evidence of stubble on the male team members after several days in the game). It's here also that the film makes its greatest departure from the book. Rightly judging the difficulty of relating some events via the first-person internal narrative of our heroine, fresh scenes are introduced depicting the power-brokers and puppeteers behind the games. It's a logical departure from the source structure that just occasionally falters by delivering a few ham-fisted Basil Exposition moments, but, by way of compensation, adds to the implicit parallels with modern-day TV and the trend towards ever more ghastly and extreme "reality" entertainment.

Much has been made of the similarity of Hunger Games' concept to that of "Battle Royale", and clearly a debt is owed. But while that Japanese subversive cult favourite is very explicitly an adult piece of satire that happens to feature school-kids bludgeoning each other to death, this is by intent a much more straight-ahead adventure, and the setting owes at least as much to the classic dystopian visions of "1984", particularly the impressively monumental authoritarian architecture. But as the downtrodden citizens watch on helplessly and those in charge manipulate the results for their own ends, I began to recall another movie that is perhaps the most interesting and unexpected antecedent: "The Truman Show", and like that brilliant work, The Hunger Games ends a touch ambiguously, leaving you with a lingering and disturbing question "would you watch too?".

Rating: 4/5

Cyborg Girl (Boku no kanojo wa saibôgu) (2008)

Ho-hum. Another month, another Korean directed human / cyborg rom-com.

Jiro is just your standard issue shy and nerdy student until, one lonely birthday, a kick-ass robot chick from the future drops in and turns his life upside down. Director Jae-young Kwak, who had already scored a massive hit with the more conventional romance "My Sassy Girl", here directs in Japanese in a wholly more ambitious project, but still feels at his most comfortable when on familiar ground. Keisuke Koide as the gobsmacked Jiro is initially a tad irritating with his dumbstruck jaw-on-the-floor performance, but gradually settles into a likeable and more rounded character. While Haruka Ayase as the beautiful machine from the future is not half as bad-ass as her Terminator-homaging introduction would like us to believe, and is all the more charming for it.

For most of its running time, Cyborg Girl (aka: Cyborg She) is sweet and gently amusing as this odd couple figure out their relationship and get involved in a bunch of life-saving scrapes, before proceedings climax quite unexpectedly in a massive set-piece with surprising emotional punch. Had things been tidied up around this point I would have nothing by praise for this unconventional but sweetly satisfying genre hybrid. However at around the ninety minute mark, Jae-young suddenly remembers he's also making a science-fiction, and we get a largely superfluous extended denouement involving A.I. style departures to new time zones, additional secondary characters and time-looping repeated scenes. It all goes on a bit and makes little sense, but fortunately doesn't completely undo the goodwill generated earlier. Nonetheless a tighter edit would have probably earned it an extra star.

Rating: 3/5

Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes (2011)

Much better than I had hoped. Surprisingly dark and gritty, it feels tonally well placed in relation to the classic 1968 original and is anchored by magnificent performance capture work from, of course, Andy Serkis in the lead ape role. The film has less time for some of its human characters, of whom a couple of cliched supporting turns represent the films' only significant missteps. But these aside this is a solid piece of proper sci-fi with thrills, genuine emotional weight, and a stunning climax that is intense without ever feeling overblown.

Rating: 4/5

Cowboys And Aliens (2011)

Simple comic book adventure mash-up that is precisely as good, and bad, as the title concept suggests. There's little in this to really surprise or thrill. The story is perfunctory and motivations are minimal. But it does have James Bond and Indiana Jones striding around being cool and tough and gruff. Does exactly what is says on the tin.

Rating: 3/5

Super 8 (2011)

Great fun, warm and nostalgic tribute to childhood adventures from a simpler time. Endearing performances, effective slow build of thrills. Not so engaging once the big mystery has been fully revealed, resulting in the final denouement being rather less emotionally impactful than the 80's kids adventure masterpiece it so clearly wants to be. But it delivers plenty of old school charm and thrills along the way.

Rating: 4/5

Paprika (Papurika) (2006)

A trio of scientists are working on the psychiatric possibilities offered by a remarkable new device that can record patients dreams. When the device is stolen their own subconscious minds begin to be invaded and hijacked by an unknown assailant and the boundaries of reality and imagination start to blur. With the help of the mysterious alter-ego Paprika, and a police detective who is himself a patient, the team try to infiltrate this unconscious world to track down the missing machine and the person controlling it.

While Miyazaki may have the lions' share of international recognition for his masterful Japanese animation; in the west, science-fiction anime is for the most part still the reserve of a particularly geekish brand of teenage boys. Twenty-odd years on, Akira still dominates this violent and neon-lit landscape and a tendency to  excess has marred much of what came after and disguised the fact that genuinely brilliant and original work has been quietly going on.

Director Satoshi Kon, whose career was tragically cut short by cancer earlier this year has been responsible for several vibrant, feverish slabs of dark but mature storytelling since his minor breakout hit debut Perfect Blue in 1998. Paprika was only his fourth feature as director and sadly will now probably be his last (there is an unfinished fifth currently in limbo), but he's left behind a stunning piece of work. Spritely creative; at times madcap and surreal, with armies of dream monster toys crashing through the walls of reality, time stopping, physics distorting, characters running through alternate films playing in their own mind. It's a bit of a head rush in parts, but still takes the time to establish meaningful characters with complex motivations.

Sci-Fi stories of dreams and subconscious have of course been around for years, and in the concepts and visual ideas present here, one can detect hints of Strange Days, Brainstorm and Blade Runner. But Paprika takes these several steps further and creates a dizzying sense of multi-layered reality. Its most recognisable aspects are those that it has itself gone on to influence, because if any film might hold a candle to the creative invention on show here, it's Inception, and director Christopher Nolan has made no secret of the dept he owes to this obvious forbear.

Compared to the clockwork precision engineering of Nolan's masterwork, Paprika is a touch freewheeling and can occasionally loose the viewer during some bizarre left turns. Plus some dialogue comes across a little awkwardly, although this might just be an issue of the subtitle translation. But these are very minor quibbles. This is grown-up animation of dazzling invention and well worth seeking out.

Rating: 4/5