I like films.
A jolly good show: crisp, succinct, witty and given extra gravitas by Alec Guinness in the trademark Ealing studios way. It gets some good jabs in at capitalist greed early on, and if the satire ultimately turns out to be as woolly as the film's subject, the fun you've had along the way will mean it doesn't quite feel like a letdown.
A lot better than "The Sound of Music", but then what isn't?
Still, Robert Wise is a plain bad director of musicals, and despite the help of Shakespeare for plot he quickly runs into trouble and way out of his depth in any scenes that require a bit of drama or romance (the love scenes in particular are excruciating).
With the exception of a spirited effort from Rita Moreno, the cast are all blank slates, with the gangsters failing to…
Like "Dunkirk" which I watched yesterday, a visually splendorous survival story with little else going on beneath the surface. Only with less cheesy dialogue (at least until the last third), a more likeable hero(ine), and some of the boldest imagery comparing space to the vacuum of both the womb and the grave since "2001: A Space Odyssey".
I've read a lot of sensible, well-argued critiques of this film, decrying it for sentimentality, skirting around the truth (Oskar Schindler went back to his womanising ways after the war, for instance, as Thomas Keneally's book makes clearer), and for Englishifying the main characters. Smart filmmakers such as Godard and Haneke have attacked Spielberg for these points and even accused him of seeking to profit from tragedy.
Well, all I can say is I acknowledge these points, am perturbed a…