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I would have completely passed this film over if not for the fact that it was written and directed by the brilliant Paul King of "Paddington" and "Paddington 2". In anyone else's hands, it would have become yet another lifeless, overstuffed, unnecessary origin-story prequel. But in his, it becomes, like the Paddington films (albeit with a bit less slapstick bear humor and far more music) an equally whimsical, quirky, wondrous, and warm film about how one person, just by being themselves, can change the world around them, as long as they remain positive and don't give up on their dreams.

I've always felt that Roald Dahl's 1964 novel, while not without its dark moments, was more joyous than many of his later books, a wondrous ode to his love of chocolate and a giddy exploration of the wish-fulfillment of being handed the keys to your own candy factory. King has tapped into and run with this sweetness, but he keeps it tempered, just as Dahl did, by following the mantra that adults are not to be trusted and make the best villains via his (and co-writer Simon Farnaby's) introduction of just enough grotesque, menacing, yet somehow funny grown-ups to keep things from becoming too easy for the protagonists without making the story too grim.

Speaking of protagonists, as the title suggests, this story is all about the man himself, Willy Wonka, and while it took a few scenes for me to get used to seeing anyone but the incomparable Gene Wilder in the role, Timothee Chalamet gives a wonderful performance that definitely grows on you. By the end of the film, he literally moved me to tears. As a sort of amalgam of Chaplin's The Little Tramp and a young Harry Houdini, his youthful, wide-eyed Wonka definitely leans more towards the warm-hearted, twinkly-eyed side of Dahl's incarnation and Wilder's interpretation than the nonchalant candy maker who calmly accepts the possibility of naughty children being boiled into fudge or thrown down a garbage chute. All young Willy wants to do is make the world a better place with his chocolates. Yet Chalamet still manages to capture the eccentric, energetic, excitable, reckless, inventive man of the 1971 film version and Roald Dahl's novels without letting his quirks become overpowering (yes, I'm looking at you, Johnny Depp) such that it isn't a stretch to imagine that his Wonka and the man he will eventually become are one and the same.

Timothee Chalamet also pleasantly surprises with his singing and dancing skills, which come in handy considering that, in spite of what the trailers will tell you, "Wonka" is an unabashedly old-fashioned movie musical courtesy of Neil Hannon's fun, catchy, and tuneful original songs. While Chalamet may not be Josh Groban, he has a sweet, natural voice with lots of color and personality, not to mention a gorgeous vibrato. For my money, I would much rather buy a record of his over Nick Jonas or Harry Styles any day, and I hope that he continues to be given the chance to further develop and show off his skills.

In short, "Wonka" is a wonderful and unexpected surprise in more ways than one. King's childlike view of the world and his deftness at telling stories that are neither too clever for children yet too inane for adults matches perfectly with the world and words of Roald Dahl, a feeling clearly shared by Dahl's grandson Luke Kelly, co-producer on this film and guardian of Dahl's estate, who allowed "Wonka" to be the first time Roald Dahl's characters have ever been used in an original story. Worlds away from Tim Burton's nightmarish 2005 "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory," "Wonka" instead meshes beautifully with Roald Dahl's original 1964 novel and the 1971 film, giving fond nods and Easter eggs in abundance for those paying attention, while also managing to stand on its own feet as a great film, whether or not you've ever heard of Oompa-Loompas or let yourself explore a world of pure imagination before.

I've loved "A Simple Wish" since first watching it as a kid in the 90s, and even 25 years later, I continue to find it just as funny, inventive, and entertaining as ever. For anyone who's ever wanted a fairy godmother or believed in the magic of a wish, "A Simple Wish" hearkens back to the best of the classic fairy tales but with an imaginative twist for the 20th (and 21st) centuries.

In a nutshell, the story concerns Anabel (Mara Wilson), who wishes for a fairy godmother to help her father Oliver (Robert Pastorelli) land an audition for a new Broadway musical at the Palace Theatre in New York City. But as she soon learns from her well-meaning but comically inept fairy godfather Murray (Martin Short), wishes are anything but simple, not all fairy godmothers have good intentions, and magic can come from even the most unlikely of places.

While "A Simple Wish" has plenty of slapstick humor and action for kids to enjoy, mostly courtesy of the incomparable Martin Short, it steers clear of the wildly inappropriate 'humor' that so many supposed family films feature nowadays. In the tradition of the best Disney films, the script neither talks down to nor panders to children, with enough wit to make it an enjoyable watch for those of us who are rather children at heart (i.e., adults) as well. Take, for example, the conceit of the original in-movie musical "Two Cities," based on Dickens' "A Tale of Two Cities," with wonderful songs composed by Lucy Simon (sister of Carly Simon) and lyrics by "A Simple Wish" director Michael Ritchie. Composed in the film by Lord Richard (a thinly-veiled spoof of Andrew Lloyd Webber), it takes off on the explosion in the 80s of the British mega-musicals based on works of classic and perhaps overly-dramatic literature, making it a nice little in-joke for Broadway buffs and fans of literature alike.

I've never quite understood why this film wasn't more of a hit, as it truly has everything: a fun yet moving script, an inventive story that turns the traditional fairy-tale tropes on its head, an all-star cast, great acting performances, a gorgeous musical score, excellent production design, and fabulous location shoot in New York City. If you love Martin Short and Mara Wilson as I do, you're virtually guaranteed to love this film. If you like movies that subvert the traditional fairytale genre while still staying family-friendly, you're probably going to like it, too.

With so many of Disney's sequels and live action remakes from the last decade ranging from underwhelming to just plain bad, I confess I went into this film with low expectations. Yet I came out pleasantly surprised, delighted, moved, and above all entertained, which is all you could ask for in a good movie. "Dial," while not abandoning the fun, escapism, and derring-do that makes the series such great entertainment, also brings to the table some genuine heart that makes it more than just mere entertainment.

While I was initially disappointed that Steven Spielberg didn't return as director, hats off to James Mangold, who, as director and co-screenwriter, manages to give audiences everything they'd expect from an Indiana Jones movie (dizzying action sequences, gross-out creature scenes, slightly hokey humor, Nazis, etc.) while keeping it fresh and surprising with unexpected plot twists, new locations, a thought-provoking, fact-based McGuffin, and a surprisingly deep emotional thread.

Mangold avoids the pitfalls of "Jurassic World: Dominion," which offered fan-service yet faltered when too much of the story was focused on the weaker Jurassic World characters versus the original Jurassic Park trio. Nostalgia comes naturally rather than being forced, and he never lets the audience forget that the title of the film is "Indiana Jones", focusing on Indy in nearly every scene and leaving the supporting characters to support him rather than hijack the narrative.

The entire cast give wonderful performances, but Harrison Ford, like always, is absolutely at the top of his game. At 81, he is still as handsome (just take a look at the scene of him in his boxer shorts!) and capable a stunt-man as ever, punching out Nazis, racing a horse through the streets of New York, and skin-diving with the best of them. But he also gets to take a deeper dive into Indy's character, showing us a man who has been beaten down by life and who is effectively alone in a world (1969) that he no longer recognizes. In other words, we get to see Indiana Jones as a real man, not just an unbeatable superman.

Comparisons will inevitably be drawn between this film and the previous four entries in the series. Is it different than "Raiders," "Temple of Doom," "The Last Crusade," or "Crystal Skull?" Yes. But each of those films were distinct from each other, despite having the same director, Steven Spielberg. And that isn't necessarily a bad thing.

While I enjoyed the tongue-in-cheek, B-movie vibe of the first two films, I've always found them emotionally hollow, with the characters written too one-dimensionally to make me really invest in them or the films themselves. "Dial," continuing the tonal shift started by "Crusade," allows the characters to be more fully fleshed-out human beings whose problems, foibles, and motivations move the story forward, which makes it perhaps the most emotionally satisfying film in the series.

I honestly don't understand all the negativity for "Dial of Destiny." If there are any faults with this film, they're the same that could be leveled at any other entry in the series. I suppose for those who deride men for being too masculine and believe that bad guys are merely misunderstood, a film where men have the physical and emotional strength to fight against their enemies and villains are truly bad people may not be their cup of tea. For myself, "Dial" is old-fashioned filmmaking at its best, and if this is truly Indy's last outing, it's quite the high note to go out on.

In spite of being a massive Harry Potter fan (books and movies), I admit that it took me until my second viewings of both "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" and "The Crimes of Grindelwald" to fully appreciate and enjoy them. As different beasts (pun intended) to the Potter series, not having precursor novels to give viewers a roadmap to follow while watching them for the first time, I, like probably a lot of fans, was so caught up in trying to absorb every detail of the fantastical new world that J. K. Rowling was creating on screen that, in comparison to the Potter films, they felt slow-moving and slightly hard to follow. By the second time around, I knew each film's rhythm and storyline, and came to love the 1920s Wizarding World and the characters of Newt Scamander, et. Al just as much as the more familiar Potter world.

As such, after viewing "The Secrets of Dumbledore" for the first time and feeling a bit let down, I watched it a second time with an open mind. However, upon my second viewing, my opinion did not improve, and this is the one film in the series I don't care to revisit, regardless of whether the series is ever finished up.

I know that the pandemic caused the shooting and release of this film to be delayed, which may have disrupted the availability of several actors who may have originally been given more screen-time, such as Katherine Waterston as Tina. There was also the issue of criminal charges being brought against several actors, necessitating their elimination or recasting, including Johnny Depp as Grindelwald and Kevin Guthrie as Abernathy.

However, that doesn't explain why this film is the longest in the series, yet has arguably the least happen as far as both story and character development. "Where to Find Them" managed to build the world and tell a complete three-act story in 2 hours. And while "Crimes" had admittedly less plot (excepting a huge red herring) than the first film, not having the same burden of world-building, it at least made up for it by both building on the story and further developing the characters. "Secrets," unfortunately, does not develop the characters so much as use them as pawns in a giant, overlong, and not particularly compelling chess game. In 2-hour-and-20-minutes, it somehow barely manages to resolve the problems left open at the end of "Crimes" (Credence's true background revealed, the destruction of the blood pact, and a long-awaited wedding) in scenes that take up probably all of five minutes. The rest feels like pointless, dreary filler. I can't help but feel that whatever plot points J. K. Rowling had planned for the fourth film could have very easily been combined into this film without any negative result.

Eddie Redmayne is a brilliant actor and totally embodies the quirky, loveable character of Newt Scamander. His performance here is wonderful as always. The problem is, in spite of supposedly being the hero of the series, in "Secrets," he is given precious little to do. Aside from sending him 'out in the field' in the opening of the film, his talents as a Magizoologist, which helped save the day in the previous two films, are squandered. It also doesn't help that the beating heart of the "Beasts" films, the main quartet of Newt, Tina, Queenie, and Jacob, are split up until the very end of the film, so none of them have the opportunity to bounce off or support each other as Harry, Ron, and Hermione do in the Potter films, leaving the film feeling empty of emotion and giving Eddie no real opportunity to show off his acting talent.

Another disappointing element is the recasting of Mads Mikkelsen as Grindelwald. While he may be a great actor in other roles, in comparison with Johnny Depp's quirky yet compelling portrayal, he's just boring. Grindelwald, being a Wizarding World stand-in for Hitler, needs to be both evil and charismatic, neither of which Mikkelsen gets across. He's low-key, but not in an insidious way like Ralph Fiennes' Voldemort. With so much of this film riding on Grindelwald and so much screen-time spent on him, not having a villain you love to hate drags the film down even further.

Finally, for a film with "Fantastic Beasts" in the title, this film is lacking in magic and fantastic creatures. While the other films had their dark moments, there was still enough wit, whimsy, and wonder to lighten them up. Aside from Newt's manticore dance and Pickett and Teddy's teaming-up to rescue Newt, the sense of fun that made the other two films special is missing. The only new creatures introduced, the mystical Qilin and the creepy Manticore, are overshadowed by scenes of unnecessary violence and gore.

If this truly is the last film in the "Fantastic Beasts" series, it is a shame. While this film was miss storywise, it would be sad to squander the wonderful characters, phenomenal actors, and amazing team of filmmakers behind the series. Hopefully one day the series will be finished out, if only to give Newt and Tina closure and to reach Dumbledore's defeat of Grindelwald in 1945 that kicks off the Deathly Hallows and starts off the Harry Potter series.

In spite of being a massive classic movie fan, "Bright Victory" wasn't one I had ever heard of until I caught it on Turner Classic Movies a few years ago. While I've seen and enjoyed other well-known wartime readjustment films like "The Best Years of Our Lives" or "It's Always Fair Weather," I can't understand why this film isn't better known other than that 1951 was an exceptionally crowded year for new movies and it was simply lost in the shuffle.

While the title and subject-matter (WWII soldier Larry Nevins is blinded on the front lines and must come to terms with his disability in order to live out the rest of his life) would seem to promise a heavy, ponderous, depressing film, "Bright Victory" is anything but. While it's hard to think of any wartime film being considered a 'feel-good' picture, "Bright Victory" is the closest I've seen to one, and in my opinion it holds up better than any of the better-known WWII films as both a snapshot in time of life for soldiers returning to civilian life and as quality entertainment.

If "Blind Victory" were being made today, no doubt we would be given countless angry, angst-filled scenes of Larry and those around him as they struggle to accept and adjust to his blindness. And certainly the racial sub-plot would be magnified in order to soundly beat the audience over the head with it. But director Mark Robson, who worked early on in his career as an editing assistant to Robert Wise, doesn't do that. His touch is refreshingly light and understated, letting the story unfold in a very naturalistic way. While not ignoring Larry's struggles, the film is less about self-pity and more about Larry's (and the human spirit's) ability to triumph over adversity and move forward. With consultants taken from and much of the film shot at the Valley Forge General Army Hospital in Phoenixville, Pennsylvania, the rehabilitation scenes add another layer of authenticity, something that is usually missing from films like this.

While the subject-matter is moving and emotionally gripping, Robson never lets the atmosphere become too heavy or melodramatic. There is enough sentimentality and positivity to avoid becoming cynical the way many films of the 1950s tended, but it's not so much that it becomes maudlin. I also appreciate that he gives his actors the space to emote and act rather than just read lines. While ironic in a film with a blind lead character, some of the film's most moving moments come from simply watching the actor's facial expressions.

Bolstered by a fine script by writer and producer Robert Buckner, the entire cast give sensitive, affecting performances, but particularly the two leads. Arthur Kennedy was a name I'd always known but who I'd never really seen in many leading roles. In the physically and emotionally demanding role of Larry Nevins, he is absolutely brilliant, believably portraying the pain and frustration of a man whose entire world has been turned upside down. While Larry is not a totally sympathetic character, having to overcome a figurative blindness about race as well as his literal blindness, Kennedy's Irish charm makes Larry compelling and keeps the audience rooting for him even in his most unlikeable moments. I'd always known the exceptionally beautiful Peggy Dow from her turn as Nurse Kelly in "Harvey." Here, as Judy Greene, the girl who falls in love with Larry after he's blinded, she's finally allowed to show her true talents as an actress. Even in scenes where she has few or even no lines, I can't think of anyone who could more convincingly portray Judy's devotion to Larry and her heartbreak at having to give him up to the girl he left at home.

Given that "Bright Victory" was produced by a major Hollywood studio (Universal), featured a talented cast and crew, and addresses subjects that are just as timely now as they were in 1951, it's still a mystery to me why this film is considered somewhat obscure rather than a classic. With Kino Lorber's beautiful 2022 restoration and Blu-ray release, I can only hope that this wonderful film will finally find the wider audience it deserves.

Hocus Pocus (1993) has been an integral part of my family's Halloween celebrations every year since its release. We watch it multiple times a year, and not just during the Halloween season. I spent part of my childhood in New Hampshire, and having visited Salem (the filming location for much of the film) many times, it is one of the few films that accurately conjures up the magic, excitement, scariness, mysticism, and fun of Halloween night. While over-the-top at times, underneath the broad humor and zaniness is a moving message about familial love and sacrifice.

Hocus Pocus 2 (2022), which has no real connection to the 1993 film beyond a score by original composer John Debney and the characters of the Sanderson Sisters and Billy Butcherson, is lacking the special magic that made Hocus Pocus so great. The writing is abysmal, with dull, on-the-nose dialogue; forced, unfunny humor; flat, annoying characters; and a thin plot entirely devoid of either tension or focus. Original characters and plot points are crudely retconned for no apparent reason, creating massive continuity issues and plot holes.

But the most egregious alteration is the complete desecration of everyone's favorite witches, the Sanderson Sisters. As crazy as it sounds, the 20-minute Hocus Pocus Villain Spelltacular stage show at Walt Disney World stays truer to the original characters' wackiness and menace. It's ironic that a film that feels the need to state that they were "ahead of their time" and "misunderstood" goes out of its way to water down eccentric, charming, and potent villains into a trio of inane and ineffectual ninnies. Even bringing back the original actresses isn't enough to save them.

While this film may look good visually, the direction and acting are as poor as the script, and it was a struggle to keep my attention all the way to the end, something that has never happened during the dozens of times I've watched Hocus Pocus, Honestly, this ludicrous mess feels more like either a cheesy teen Disney Channel Original Movie from the 90s with the Sanderson Sisters awkwardly shoehorned in or a cruel and overlong Saturday Night Live parody.

The only good thing I can say about this film is the lovely score by John Debney, which reuses many themes from his equally wonderful score for Hocus Pocus. It was truly a wasted opportunity, and could have been so much better with a stronger script and the return of original director Kenny Ortega and original cast members Omri Katz,Vinessa Shaw, and Thora Birch. Maybe then they could have recaptured some of the old Hocus Pocus magic. Rather than watch this dreadful film, do yourself a favor and just go rewatch Hocus Pocus.

Being an admirer of both Daphne Du Maurier and Matthew Rhys was enough to get me to watch "The Scapegoat" (2012). While nothing from either of these two artists is ever second-best, I was unprepared for just how much I enjoyed this film.

In a sort of dark twist on the "Prince and the Pauper" tale (a connection that is further emphasized by setting the story 1952 England ahead of Queen Elizabeth's coronation rather than France) "The Scapegoat" concerns two men, John Standing, a decent ex-teacher, and Johnny Spence, a dissolute businessman from a wealthy family (both played by Rhys), who, by a strange coincidence, are almost carbon-copies of each other. The happen to meet in London, and after a night of drinking, John finds that Johnny has swapped clothes and run off, leaving John to take his place among his dysfunctional family.

From the first twenty minutes or so, I expected "The Scapegoat" to be nothing more than a diverting manor-house fish-out-of-water romp. But further in, I was pleasantly surprised to find it instead a very moving, engrossing drama, with an inspiring message to boot. While it has its share of darkness, unlike most modern British dramas, it never got to the point of being oppressive. I also appreciated the comparatively light touch of director/screenwriter Charles Sturridge in regards to the film's language, violence, and sensuality, which have become so overused nowadays in British drama. It was nice to see story and character emphasized over shock value for once.

The entire cast is superb, but the true standout is Matthew Rhys, who, in the dual roles of John and Johnny, is nothing short of perfect. His mesmerizing stage presence and emotive yet subtle acting style draws you in from his very first scene and helps make even such an unlikely story seem possible. Rather than go into full Jekyll and Hyde mode, Rhys plays his doppelgängers with nuance, using the smallest of gestures, attitude, and inflection to differentiate the two; it really is a performance that has to be seen to be believed.

While I almost never say this about book-to-film adaptations, this 2012 version of "The Scapegoat" is, in my opinion, much better than Du Maurier's original novel, not to mention the 1959 film with Alec Guinness, which followed the book very closely. Without giving too much away, let me just say that the changes made to the plot give this film a much more fitting and satisfying conclusion. If you enjoy well-acted, entertaining period British drama, then don't hesitate to see this film!

In this day and age of cynical, apocalyptic CGI-fests, it's rare to find a movie that still puts storytelling, character development, and entertainment at the forefront. Old-fashioned in the best possible way, "Stan and Ollie" is one of those rare films, a lovingly-crafted little gem that shines a tender light on the legendary friendship of Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy during the latter years of their careers.

While the opening prologue of "Stan and Ollie"' shows the team at their peak in 1937, the bulk of the story takes place in 1953, during the pair's UK musical-hall tour, a time when their futures in comedy were uncertain, and their partnership, both on stage and off, was being sorely tested. Unlike your typical biopic, "Stan and Ollie" doesn't vilify its subjects, nor stoop to inventing outlandish situations for the sake of sensation and box-office dollars. Rather, it does exactly what a good biopic should do: Tell their story in an authentic yet entertaining way, while showing what it is about them that made them so special. Laurel and Hardy's lives and personalities are handled respectfully, and while their flaws aren't glossed over, they're not dwelt on, which keeps the film from ever sliding into soap-opera territory. Jon Baird's masterful direction and Jeff Pope's brilliant script weaves off-stage drama and on-stage comedy seamlessly together into a film that, while not afraid to go in darker, more serious directions, is at its core a sweet, utterly charming love story, with delightful dashes of trademark Laurel and Hardy humor mixed in.

The acting performances are strong throughout, but the real standouts are the two leads, Steve Coogan (Stan Laurel) and John C. Reilly (Oliver Hardy). While Coogan and Reilly share many striking physical similarities with their real-life counterparts, with the help of some very effective prosthetics, costuming, and stellar character acting, their transformations are so thorough it's almost uncanny. They don't merely caricature or impersonate; they ARE Stan and Ollie. There movements, mannerisms, voices, everything, are so perfect, I had to keep reminding myself that I wasn't watching the real Laurel and Hardy on screen. Their comedic timing is impeccable, and it was a magical if somewhat surreal experience to see them recreate a number of the duo's routines almost shot-for-shot. They perfectly capture the special chemistry between Stan and Ollie, and provide the film with the tender beating heart that makes it so much more than just another biopic.

While "Stan and Ollie" hasn't gotten the awards recognition that it so rightly deserves, it is a film that everyone involved should be very proud of. I can't think of a more affectionate tribute to Laurel and Hardy, both as comedic geniuses and as human beings. For my money, it's easily the best picture of 2018, and both Coogan and Reilly give what I think are unquestionably the best performances of their careers. It might not push political agendas or stir up controversial social topics, but what "Stan and Ollie" does do is far more important: in less than two hours, it tells a compelling human story about friendship, love, and hope; gives us an excuse to laugh, to cry; and makes us feel just a little bit better about humanity. It's everything that a good biopic and a good film should be, and whether you're a fan of Laurel and Hardy or not, this is one film you absolutely shouldn't miss.

It continues to astonish me that one of the Western world's most beloved novels has yet to be given a proper film adaptation. Having slogged through the previous film and television adaptations of "The Woman in White," I hoped that this 2018 miniseries from the BBC might be an improvement. Sadly, I was sorely disappointed yet again.

I never understand why screenwriters always feel the need to "improve" on Wilkie Collins's stories or tweak them to be more "accessible" to modern audiences. All his novels, particularly "The Woman in White," have more than enough plot and dialogue to make up an excellent film, and only need to be streamlined to better suit the medium. While the novel's original plot is followed more faithfully than either the 1997 or 1948 versions, rather than allow it to unfold in a linear fashion and let the mystery blossom before both the audience's and the main characters' eyes, the script jumps back and forth in time, using a frame story of various character giving their testimony to a lawyer investigating the case of Laura Glyde's death, a surprise that is ruined with the very first scene. A nice nod to Collins' use of multiple narrators, but the way it is used here disrupts the story's flow and saps any chance of mystery or suspense in the telling of it. I especially disliked how it was used to explain to the audience what they had just seen or were about to see, as if they were too stupid to understand otherwise. While a goodly amount original dialogue is left intact, too much is watered down into more modern-sounding language, which really ruins the sense of historical authenticity. Additionally, many of the story's most memorable moments are cut down or removed entirely in favor of new scenes that add nothing to the story or the plot but distraction.

While I suppose it is a result of today's generation having no understanding of history or any kind of appreciation for subtlety, the production overall feels too modern and more telegraphed than I was hoping for. All the characters blurt out exactly what they are thinking, and even translate the subtext of the other character's dialogue. Talk about spoon-feeding your audience! The costumes are a terrible mix of clothes from the entire Victorian period, and the less said about the hairstyles the better. And when will filmmakers get it through their heads that "The Woman in White" is not a horror story? I agree with another reviewer that the constant "atmospheric" music and sound effects in the background are annoying, as is the insistence of maintaining a constantly creepy tone both visually and story-wise. Wilkie Collins was a master at creating suspense and tension by contrast, balancing big, dramatic events with small, more lighthearted moments. None of that is present here. With the tone unsettling and grim from the outset, and with no comic relief or breathers, the more shocking and suspenseful moments lose their impact, leaving the film limp and feeling much, much longer that it really is.

But what I found most galling was the complete desecration of the characters. Part of the reason "The Woman in White" has endured for almost 160 years is that Wilkie Collins created some of his most indelible characters for it; you grow to love them and genuinely care about what happens to them, even the bad ones. In some combination of bad screenwriting and bad casting, all the life has been sucked out of them, and they are neither engaging nor interesting. I know Marian as written is a modern woman with uncommon looks and intelligence, but the sight of Jessie Buckley, who seems to spend most of her time scowling, prancing around in trousers and drinking was just too much. Ben Hardy is simply too young to play Walter, and I couldn't believe it when I saw him lolling about in his shirt-sleeves, sans waistcoat and tie. Dougray Scott as Sir Percival is boring but marvelously unsubtle, with his every vice telegraphed from his first scene, which in destroying the mystery as to who will be the villain of the piece creates another: why is Marian so insistent that Laura marry him, a man who drinks and makes lecherous advances on women? And while I like Olivia Vinall as Laura, having her dressed in almost nothing but white negligees and running around with her hair constantly undone got on my nerves.

But the worst insult of all is the "reenvisioning" of Count Fosco. As a fat scoundrel, for lack of a better phrase, the Fosco of the novel is an entertaining contradiction who provides as much comic relief as he does menace. While I understand the decision to make him a bit younger and thinner in order to play up his attraction to Marian (something Collins so deftly alluded to in the book but that is made far too explicit here), Riccardo Scamarcio is dull and totally charmless, and far less compelling than he should be. He no longer has his animals, his fondness for tarts, and in Scamarcio's hands he is tone-deaf as well. Wilkie Collins must be turning over in his grave.

Boring, overlong, miscast, and far too modernized for my taste, I'm sorry I wasted five hours watching this travesty. While those unfamiliar with Collins' novel might enjoy this, anyone who loves the book should stay far away. The definitive adaptation still has yet to be made.

I've recently become a big James Cagney fan, and have been making my way through the films made by this wonderful actor during his prolific 30-year screen career. Having just finished reading his excellent autobiography, I've come to the sad understanding of how he, like all other actors working in the studio system under seven-year contracts, was more often than not forced to squander his talents on production-line pictures with anemic scripts that offered little in the way of plot or characterization, with ad-libbing often the only way to turn a dreadful film into one that might be almost watchable. When a good one resulted, it was almost purely by accident. For me, "Taxi!" is one such accident.

As a refreshing contrast to the downbeat, ponderous gangster films that made up the bulk of his oeuvre, "Taxi!" is an entertaining, briskly-paced film that is impossible to describe as anything but an ubergenre film: While gangsters play a pivotal role in the plot, crime is not the main focus. Rather, there is a little bit of everything: Romantic comedy, drama, action, and even an opportunity for Cagney to dance. I personally find these types of films more interesting and more realistic, as real life is never just one mood at a time.

It saddens me that James Cagney was and continues to be pigeon-holed as a ruthless, gun-toting tough-guy, an image that obscures the charming, intelligent man who brought a special sincerity and humanity to every role he played. In "Taxi!" thankfully, we get to see Cagney at his best, playing Matt Nolan, a young New York taxi driver, who, in an almost affectionate spoof of the tough-guy, gangster characters he typically played, is just an ordinary guy, who does his job, takes his girl to the movies, and gets himself into more than his share of fights due to his spit-fire temper. When one fight inadvertently leads to the murder of his younger brother, Matt sets out on the path to revenge. Nolan is a more relatable, sympathetic character than Cagney's usual heavies, and gives him the opportunity to inject some real pathos, comedy, and even show off his impressive dancing skills, not to mention his fluency in Yiddish!

The plot itself is fairly simple and straightforward, yet kept my interest all the way through. I liked that the filmmakers avoided padding-out or overstretching it; the spare 69-minute runtime feels just about right. The script has some genuinely witty one-liners, and really helped define the characters and set the appropriate rhythm. I was also really impressed with the way 1930's New York was depicted through the set design. Whether it was a busy street, a moving subway, or a cramped tenement, everything looked and felt authentic, and lent a lot in the way of atmosphere.

While Cagney does handle a gun in one scene, the majority of the film deals with Matt's often rocky relationship with his sweet but plucky girlfriend Sue Reilly, played by the always-beautiful Loretta Young, who, at only eighteen, manages to hold her own opposite Cagney masterfully. Their chemistry is wonderful, and I loved seeing Cagney as a romantic lead, even one with such a short fuse!

For Cagney fans or anyone who enjoys seeing a little slice of life from the 1930's, "Taxi!" is one film not to be missed!

I was born a few years too late to enjoy the so-called "Disney renaissance" films from the late 80's and early 90's anywhere but on home video, but they played an important part in my childhood and remain beloved favorites, particularly "Beauty and the Beast." At any age, I could appreciate the top-notch, often cinematic animation; the witty and rousing music; the excellent voice cast; and the timeless, moving and almost operatic story.

Yet as near-perfect a film as it was, I recognized where it could be improved; mainly the spare 84-minute runtime, which precluded giving sufficient backstory for the main characters, as well as the development of Belle and the Beast's relationship beyond a mere scene or two. It was also clear that animation, as limitless as the medium can be, was constraining to a story with such scope and detail. Needless to say, I was extremely excited about this live-action remake, and am pleased to say my excitement was entirely justified.

Comparisons between this film and its predecessor are inevitable and just a nature of the beast (pun intended). Is it a cut-and-paste carbon copy of the original? No, and nor should it be. But it isn't a reimagination, either. In one sentence, it's the same film told in a new medium, touched up very gently with influences from the whole history of the Beauty and the Beast story. While staying true to the original film, the small enhancements make this film something fresh and vibrant that fans, both old and new, can enjoy.

The main improvement is the generous 129-minute runtime, which allows time for exploring the backstories of Belle and the Beast, their burgeoning relationship (which here grows out of a mutual love of literature and is given the extra screen-time that it deserves), and the furthering of the development of just about every character, elements that were either missing completely or glossed over in the original film. Rather than slowing this film down, they help add another dimension to the characters and overall story and make it a more satisfying experience.

The Brits lead the pack when it comes to fine acting, and the decision made on this film to have a nearly all-British cast could not have been better. Emma Watson is perfect as the bookish, determined Belle, and while her soprano is more pop-sounding than that of Paige O'Hara, I couldn't picture anyone else but her in the role. Dan Stevens brings a dry wit to his haunted yet equally bookish Beast, while his melancholy baritone and piercing blue eyes recall Robby Benson's Beast from the original film. The chemistry between them is palpable, and provides the beating heart necessary to carry off a story as romantic as this. While it is hard to match the passion and anguish of Glen Keane's animated Beast, the double motion-capture technology employed to bring Stevens' performance to life is a worthy effort.

Luke Evans is an excellent Gaston, equal parts panache and sadism, with a soaring heroic tenor and a handsome physique that disguises the character's cruel heart within. The supporting cast of luminaries like Emma Thompson, Ewan McGregor, Ian McKellen, Audra McDonald, Kevin Kline, Stanley Tucci, and Josh Gad are excellent in their own ways, and bring fresh outlooks on the beloved characters without straying too far from their animated counterparts.

Alan Menken's expanded and revised score is beautiful and thrilling, and the new songs written with Tim Rice, while not quite up to the level of his collaborations with Howard Ashman, work well in their places in the film. My particular favorite is "Evermore," sung by the Beast in the final act. A haunting, Phantom-esque ballad, it gives expression to the Beast's realization that he has come to love Belle, even as he willingly lets her go. The original songs are freshened up with unused lyrics by Howard Ashman, and sound great when sung by this wonderful cast.

Visually, the film is a Gothic-Rococo masterpiece, with sumptuous set-pieces and staging that would not be out of place in a golden-age Hollywood musical. The costumes, while more period-appropriate than the original, pay homage to the original, and strike the perfect balance between fantasy and reality. While the animated film is in some ways more striking, the fact that almost all of what is seen on screen was created as a physical set and not later in CGI is quite astonishing.

All together, "Beauty and the Beast" was everything I expected it to be and more. It moved me to both laughter and tears, and as I left the theatre I found myself wanting to see it again. What better recommendation is there than that?

For those who question this film's very existence, I have a very simple answer: The message contained in "Beauty and the Beast" to look beyond appearances to see the goodness within has captivated humanity for thousands of years, and should have expression in some medium for every generation to enjoy and learn from. We've been blessed in the past thirty years to have three masterworks: Andrew Lloyd Webber's "The Phantom of the Opera," Disney's original "Beauty and the Beast," and this glorious live-action remake. While it's not a perfect film, if you can stop quibbling over superficial details and instead consider how well it delivers this core idea, than it is nothing short of a triumph.

Despite what the trailers will try and tell you, "Victor Frankenstein" is in fact a fairly straightforward, character-driven drama about the relationship between mad scientist Victor Frankenstein (James McAvoy) and his hunchbacked assistant Igor Strausman (Daniel Radcliffe) that just happens to have a few monsters.

Rather than remake the classic story (or should I say monster), "Victor Frankenstein" is a prequel revealing the origins of Dr. Frankenstein's most famous experiment. Effectively filling the gaps provided by Shelley's novel, this film provides a ghastly look at his first hideous, soulless attempts at creating life, which predate the sympathetic, flat-topped creature as portrayed by Boris Karloff that we all know and love. That being said, this film owes much more to the film adaptations of Frankenstein than the book itself. A tip-off is the prominent inclusion of Igor, an invention not of Shelley's but of Universal Studios, who cast the incomparable Dwight Frye as Fritz in James Whale's "Frankenstein" (1931), which morphed in Ygor and finally Igor in subsequent sequels and adaptations.

Bearing a somewhat misleading title, the film is really Igor's story. Working as a nameless freak in a circus due to his physical deformity (which Radcliffe portrays brilliantly; he could be the next Lon Chaney Sr.), he is a stranger to kindness until he meets Victor, who recognizes his brilliant mind and vast medical knowledge. Igor is given a new appearance, a new name, and a new life by his generous benefactor, on the condition that he work as Victor's partner and assistant, bringing his expertise to animating individual body parts for use in the highly-strung medical student's unholy enterprise. Victor, in his megalomania, as the "creator" of Igor, demands his complete loyalty, something that is easy for the grateful younger man to give until he strikes up a romance with Lorelei, the aerialist he worshiped from afar during his time at the circus. Slowly, he begins to see beyond his unwavering devotion to the disturbed madness of Victor's mania for creating life out of death.

To add to the conflict, Victor and Igor find themselves being pursued by the Javert-like Inspector Turpin (Andrew Scott), who, as a man as consumed by his religion as Victor is by his rejection of it, refuses to rest until he and his ungodly experiments are brought to an end. This gives the film a chance to explore the cautionary message present in Shelley's novel about trying to control to forces of nature in further depth than simply showing the misbegotten monsters alone.

Visually, "Victor Frankenstein" is a treat. Turn-of-the-century London is portrayed in equal parts glittery and grimy, with period-appropriate costumes and hair adding to the effect. You can't have a "Frankenstein" movie without a few dead bodies, and this film is not shy about showing the various viscera, though it is all for a purpose and is far from excessive, with much less blood, gore, and grotesqueness than I was expecting. Much more is implied than actually shown in detail. As someone who avoids modern horror films for their indulgence, I applaud the filmmakers' restraint. The action scenes, which number precisely four and take up less than a quarter of the film's one-hour and forty-nine minute running time, are brief but intense, though rather tame when compared with your average action movie. They give Radcliffe a chance to utilize his gift for physicality, which he plays to the fullest.

Yet for all its trappings as a horror film, the heart of "Victor Frankenstein" is the relationship between Victor and Igor. Both social misfits, they find themselves appreciated for who they are for the first time in their lives. It soon becomes very clear that Igor is the only real friend Victor has in the world, and that the latter, for all his grandiloquence, needs his lowlier creation more than Igor needs him. The chemistry between Radcliffe and McAvoy is there and is what makes the entire film tick. They both give equally strong performances individually, with McAvoy perfectly capturing the monomaniacal, socially awkward mad genius, a sharp complement to Radcliffe's soulful, loyal, levelheaded partner, but together they are a powerhouse, bringing delightful touches of humor and pathos to an otherwise rather serious film. More than once I felt myself growing teary-eyed. How many horror films can do that?

As to the many negative reviews, I don't believe the critics and I watched the same movie. The pacing and focus was tight, the acting good, the film itself a rather straightforward drama with dashes of horror and action thrown in rather than a mixed bag, and the various subplots, rather than distracting from the main plot, came at the appropriate times, and helped to move it along. The only faults I found were the slight overuse of slow-motion in the action scenes, the rather quirky choice of superimposing anatomical drawings over various characters, and the script's occasionally on-the-nose dialogue (though Radcliffe and McAvoy's sincere performances made them less noticeable), but these are small qualms. Overall, there is much more to like than to dislike.

My only explanation for all the hatred is that "Frankenstein" is a revered novel with a strong literary following; critics came in expecting a remake of the classic monster story, and after they were disappointed at what they saw as a desecration of Mary Shelley's 1818 novel, they took their vengeance out on this film, which never pretended to be an adaptation of that story in the first place. It goes without saying that if you're expecting a faithful facsimile of Shelley's novel or a 360-degree reinvention, you're in for a disappointment, because "Victor Frankenstein" is neither. But if you want to experience a well-acted, entertaining prequel to the classic story, you're in for a real treat.

While most live-action re-imaginings of classic Disney films fail to capture the same spark of wonder as their source material, "Cinderella" is a rare case of reinvention that is actually more satisfying than the original.

Created during the tight post-war years, Walt Disney's "Cinderella" (1950) never quite reached the same pinnacle of fairy-tale story and style achieved by gems like "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs" or "Sleeping Beauty." Director Kenneth Branagh's live-action confection is the film Walt Disney would have made if he had had the budget.

Rather than attempt to modernize the story à la "Frozen" or "Maleficent", Branagh instead looks for inspiration in Perrault's original tale, lending the film an appropriate storybook look and feel. For all the criticism being leveled at him for sticking to the traditional path, the truth is that the world loves a good fairytale, and when you've got a timeless story like Cinderella with five-hundred years of love behind it, there's really no need.

With that being said, "Cinderella" is anything but stodgy in its presentation. While the basic story isn't fundamentally changed (aside from the removal of the songs), the presentation is so fresh that it's like seeing it for the first time. The combination of screenwriter Chris Weitz's excellent script and the top-notch British cast allow the characters to be properly fleshed out and emerge as much more than the usual cardboard archetypes. It would be hard to find someone better suited to play the titular character than Lily James, who retains Cinderella's optimism without becoming saccharine. Richard Madden is appropriately dashing and handsome as the Prince, while Cate Blanchett is equally sinister as Lady Tremaine. But my favorite of all is Helena Bonham Carter, who brings a wonderfully dotty, doting presence to her woefully small yet spot on portrayal of the Fairy Godmother.

While this is the first film version of Cinderella I've seen that wasn't a musical, I can't say it's a bad thing. Patrick Doyle's regal and romantic score more than adequately fills the void, and the lack of character's suddenly bursting into song allows more time to develop the characters and storyline, something that further grounds the story into a more serious kind of reality. Following Walt Disney's maxim that "for every laugh, there should be a tear," it is virtually impossible to get through this film without shedding at least one tear.

Visually, "Cinderella" is one of the most lavishly beautiful productions I've seen in a long time. The whimsy of the animated version is kept well intact, yet magnified to an impressive scale. From the gilded splendor of the palace to the otherworldly beauty of a moonlit garden, there isn't a single shot that doesn't succeed in taking your breath away. The transformation scene is a major highlight, as is the ball scene, which showcases Sandy Powell's gorgeous costumes to perfection.

Far more timeless and enjoyable than most 21st century attempts at fairy-tales, "Cinderella" is a more than worthy addition to the Disney canon, and one that I hope will be appreciated by generations to come.

With so many mediocre films being released each year, it's refreshing to see a picture that values good storytelling, strong character development, and a meaningful theme over the standard cop-outs of violence, profanity, and little left to the imagination. "The Theory of Everything" may lack the typical blockbuster trappings, but it more than makes up for it with its incredibly beautiful and bittersweetly uplifting story, handled with great subtlety and sensitivity by director James Marsh.

Adapted from Jane Hawking's memoirs of her life with her husband Stephen Hawking, the film elegantly and honestly chronicles their triumphs and struggles together following his diagnosis at age 21 of a debilitating motor-neuron disease (ALS), which doctors predicted would kill him in two years. Much in the spirit of "The King's Speech", it is a story of going up against the odds, no matter how high they are stacked against you, and still emerging victorious. Neither a straight-forward biopic nor strictly a love story, the result is something that gives a somewhat deeper portrait of its subjects than most films based on the lives of real people usually show.

Anthony McCarten's excellent script is bolstered by the two very capable leads of Eddie Redmayne as Stephen Hawking and Felicity Jones as his wife Jane. Neither seem the least bit daunted by the reality of playing real-life figures who, contrary to the norm for biographical films, are still living, and ably match each other in sincere, emotional performances. A pivotal moment where Hawking has lost the ability to speak and literally can't find the words is made all their more heartbreaking by their combined talents.

Jones is a powerhouse, bringing a strength and determination not typically seen in female roles. She does credit to her real-life counterpart, a young woman who single-handedly saw to it that nothing would stand in the way of her husband's reaching his full potential, both in his career and his life, yet had her own demons to fight as well. In my humble opinion, her performance puts her as real contender for the Best Actress Oscar next year.

Eddie Redmayne, who happens to be a dead-ringer for the famed physicist, gives a fearless turn as Stephen Hawking. His performance is neither affected nor clownish, and at all times deeply moving. He emulates the effects of the disease so convincingly it's hard to believe it is just an act. As Hawking's ALS progresses, his motor function becomes more and more limited, yet Redmayne never lets you forget the brilliant mind inside. He allows Hawking's indomitable spirit and quirky sense of humor to shine through; merely a sly smile, a twist of the head, a glance, and you'd swear you were looking at the man himself. This complete habitation of a character is the kind that has to be seen to be believed, and coming from someone so young makes it doubly impressive. I know it's a tired cliché to say that actors who play disabled characters deserve all the awards, but if anyone has earned a Best Actor Oscar this year, it's him.

I found myself profoundly impressed by "The Theory of Everything" for many reasons. In an era where we can so easily lose our perspective on life and take so much for granted, it makes you genuinely count your blessings and be grateful for what you have. It also serves as an inspiration to believe that anything is possible, especially in view of the fact that Hawking continues, fifty-odd years after his diagnosis, to defy all odds. I feel it will be an important film not only in an artistic sense, but also for bringing to the public consciousness the inner life of one of our century's greatest minds. If only a handful of people go out of the theatre understanding Stephen Hawking as more than a man in a wheelchair, then I believe it will have accomplished at least some of its purpose.

With that being said, it isn't a film for everyone. For those used to quick cuts and continuous action, the powerfully character-driven storyline and lengthy close-ups with stretches of little to no dialogue may make it seem overlong, but if you appreciate a well-crafted film that gets you to think and feel as only a good film can, then don't hesitate to appreciate it for all it has to offer.

Like many fans of Harry Houdini, I wanted to view this with an open mind. To my dismay, "Houdini" follows the pattern set by the previous string of disappointing Houdini biopics, the most major sin being that invented situations are favored in place of actual fact. With a screenplay based on a 1976 book that sought to psychoanalyze the great magician rather than tell his story, this film is perhaps the most disrespectful and historically inaccurate attempt yet, and is not only an insult to Houdini himself, but also to anyone who knows anything about his life.

While the screenplay leaves much to be desired, filled with more fiction than fact and inanely on-the-nose dialogue that never even tries to capture the cadence of the time-period, this could have been a fairly good film, if not for the filmmakers' preoccupation with giving every scene some psychological double-meaning. To this end, there is an overabundance of frankly weird and slightly trippy effects: fast, jerky cuts, an intrusive voice-over that dominates the first half of the story, and a melodramatic, oft-repeated gut-punch every time something traumatic happens to Houdini that, through the help of CGI, goes so far as to show the muscles and organs themselves. John Debney's electronic-heavy and unsettling score also adds to this slightly nightmarish atmosphere.

As entertainment, "Houdini" might appeal to some, but overall, it is simply too much of a fantasy to qualify as a true biopic. The most interesting, important, or character-building events of Houdini's life and career are changed, shifted around in time, or thrown out altogether in favor of giving precedence to completely invented scenes and situations. While every screenwriter has the right to invent, the problem you are bound to encounter when you start rewriting history is that eventually people start believing it. No doubt this film will only add to the already long list of Hollywood-created misconceptions about Houdini. Oddly enough, although this is the first film to depict his death accurately (from appendicitis, not drowning in the Water Torture Cell), they pander to this myth by including a scene showing Houdini nearly drowning while practicing and having to be axed out, with the afore-mentioned gut-punches acting as a remarkably unsubtle bit of foreshadowing.

With a script that doesn't try very hard to be true to actual fact, it should come as no surprise that this holds with the characters as well. With almost no time for character development or even insight into their motivations, it is hard for them to emerge as much more than window-dressing. The final scene between Houdini and his wife should be moving, but because no time was spent building their relationship and personalities, it doesn't have the impact that it should.

Adrien Brody might be a good actor in other roles, but as the great illusionist he is something of a mismatch. With his lean face and puppy-dog expressions, it's hard to equate him with the slight, smiling showman that Houdini really was. His nasally Brooklyn accent makes him sound more like a member of the mob than a Hungarian-born kid who spent his formative years in Wisconsin and New York, and his sleepy, brooding demeanor doesn't gel with Houdini's legendary passion, charisma, and almost hyper-active energy. Most of the fault is, again, due to the script, which takes great liberties with Houdini's personality, leaving how Brody's Houdini managed to achieve the success he did as the greatest mystery of all.

Kristen Connolly as Houdini's wife Bess is the closest match physically to the real Bess we've seen on film (again disregarding the height discrepancy), but her performance also leaves much to be desired, once again a consequence of the abysmal script. Most of the problem is that you don't see her enough. When you do, she comes off as a nagging, unsupportive, and slightly dim-witted woman who doesn't seem to love him very much, which leaves what ought to be the major emotional thread of the film hanging.

Screenwriter Nicholas Meyer's preoccupation with giving Houdini a complex on everything is most flagrantly apparent in the exaggeration of his relationship with his mother, Cecilia Weiss. Suffice to say, you couldn't get much more Freudian with it, and the scenes that result are, in a word, disturbing. This, predictably, creates tension in his relationship with his wife, Bess, who resents her mother-in-law with emotions verging on hatred. If he had cared to do a little more research on 20th century culture and Houdini himself, he might have better understood that while he was deeply devoted to her, in that period, being a "mama's boy" was expected and could exist without Oedipal undertones, and that she and Bess were not mortal enemies.

But the unkindest cut of all is the filmmakers' decision to do a lurid expose in vivid CGI of all of Houdini's escapes. Besides being in poor taste, it also effectively breaks the code of any magician's society, and amounts to something near sacrilege. While most devoted Houdini fans have a rudimentary idea of how he effected them, do we really want to know? These intermittent forays break up the flow of the story and strips the film of any magic or wonder it might have had, the only exception being the Vanishing Elephant which is, thankfully, not explained.

What disappoints the most is that despite all the reverence and admiration still felt for the master mystifier almost 90 years after his death, no one seems to be able to bring themselves to make a decent film about him. If you don't know a thing about Houdini, this film isn't going to help you, as most of it is complete poppycock. If you do know something about him, don't sport with your intelligence by watching it. Just pick up a book, or watch Harvey Keitel's amazing performance as Houdini in "Fairytale" (1997).

As everyone knows, it is hard to face up to the fact that our idols, especially idols who existed long before we did, were flawed, something that just comes from being human, despite how immortally perfect we'd like them to be. So, as a great admirer of Charles Dickens, I approached this film with some trepidation. While his life was relatively short, he did so much with it, so my first question was why in the world did they choose THIS part of his life to focus on (his meeting and life with eventual mistress Nelly Ternan). Ultimately my excitement about this film and seeing Ralph Fiennes portray the great author won out, and I watched it at last.

While I'm not a fan of the spate of biopics in the last few years that don't exactly show the subject at their finest hour (The Queen, the Iron Lady, etc,), based on Fiennes age, choosing to set the film in earlier decades before he met Nelly seems illogical. Despite expecting to dislike the film and hate Dickens even more for his cavalier and tumultuous personal life, Fiennes allows Dickens to come off as a man who did some morally reprehensible things in his personal life yet with enough humanity in him that we almost forgive him for it. He presents a very human portrait, and while there might not be a strong moral value in the story, it at least gives us a glimpse of a very complex and intriguing personality.

Ralph Fiennes always gives a beautifully acted and perfectly nuanced performance in every film that he is in, and this one is no exception. He is a master at losing himself in his roles and making you forget that he is only an actor, and as Dickens he is at his most convincing. Having read a lot about the real Dickens I feel qualified to say that he is the only person alive today who could possibly manage it. Physically, he looks so much like the man that it is almost uncanny. From the glint in his eye to the high, noble forehead and bushy beard, it really is quite amazing. He brings Dickens' manic energy and lively spirit so perfectly to life that the first time we see him in the film was quite a surreal experience for me. Talk about bringing history to life! Due to the subject matter, I expected that the only view of Dickens would be his darker side, but I was happy to see his good points touched on as well, such as his crusades against the poor and his fun-loving, playful side. He shows Dickens as a real person, not a caricature, and I honestly believe the reason he was passed over for an Academy Award was for the fact that he makes it look so natural and effortless.

Felicity Jones is also a real stand-out as Nelly Ternan, Dickens' young love interest. She effectively pulls off playing a character from age eighteen through thirty-seven (though in real life Nelly claimed she was only twenty-three), and gives a compelling performance as the young, untalented actress in awe of the great older man, whose mother was willing to let her youngest daughter become the mistress of a rich man to help secure her comfort and happiness. I surprised myself by actually feeling greater sympathy than I expected for her, due in great part to Jones' great performance. She is shown struggling, both with her growing feelings for a married man, and the moral implications that acting on those feeling will have, rather than giving right in, a refreshing contrast to today's modern-day female characters who do just the opposite. She is especially powerful in the scene were she is forced to face Dickens' cruel treatment of his wife Catherine, who delivers the bracelet mistakenly sent to her but is really for Nelly, and later on when Nelly confronts him and even rejects his first hesitant advance.

While their relationship is one that most people wouldn't approve of, at least it is actually shown to develop, unlike today's films where men and women know nothing about each other before being involved romantically. She and Dickens are drawn to each other out of sympathy, and come together more out of an emotional attraction than a physical one. Fiennes has refreshingly a light touch regarding Nelly and Dickens once they become lovers, not lingering as much as most modern-day movies often do on the tawdrier aspects. All in all it was much less sensationalized than I expected, and showed more of their mutual support for each other than anything else.

Tom Hollander likewise makes for a wonderful Wilkie Collins, not only in appearance but in character as well, and was another great addition to this film.

Fiennes directs with much of the same touches he gives his acting performances: intense, emotional, slightly gritty, accented with slight whimsy, and is the most powerful in moments of quiet. He curbs overacting and allows the unspoken feeling to come through the eyes, making for a quiet yet moving film with superb, naturalistic performances.

The color and style of the period is perfectly represented in colorful yet muted set design and costuming, which Fiennes as director took great pains to remain faithful to. The string- heavy yet sparingly-used soundtrack, played mostly at the emotional high points, is beautiful and evokes the Victorian era perfectly. All in all, this film felt less like a movie, especially a modern-day one, and more like a true window into the world of the 19th century. Hats off to Fiennes for pulling this off so effectively.

To sum up, despite the subject matter, I liked it in spite of itself, and found it to be a very good film, with great performances, great production values, and incredible direction, and I highly recommend it to anyone who appreciates history or good acting.

A wealthy man (Charles Laughton) is dying, and his last request is to meet his son's (Robert Cummings) fiancée. Unable to comply with this wish, Cummings asks hat check girl (Deanna Durbin) to accompany him and pose as his fiancée for the last hours of his father's life.

Doesn't sound very much like a good plot for a romantic comedy, does it? Without giving too much away, an unexpected turn of events leads to the necessity of continuing the charade, and the two lead characters falling in love. "It Started With Eve" is a rare treat in that it mixes comedy, romance, and truly moving drama into a single film that is nothing but a joy to experience.

So what is it exactly that makes this film so special? In my opinion, one of the major flaws of most romantic comedies both then and now is the over-reliance on stock characters. One goes into these types of films expecting the same sorts of people: the boy and the girl who either hate or love each other from the outset, and the interfering ex-girlfriend or parent intent on keeping them apart. In this film, these stereotypes are turned on their heads. The two leads neither hate nor love each other, but are simply thrown together and their relationship develops from there. The typical unwilling parent is replaced by a father who admires Durbin's character so much that he works to bring her and his son together.

The style in which this film is directed also sets it apart. While most movies of this type usually veer towards either broad farce or melodrama, the feeling here is something in between, which results in that the acting is more realistic and makes the film more believable. The stellar casting is only enhanced by the great performances and genuine chemistry between the three leads (Cummings, Durbin, and Laughton). Laughton and Durbin especially seem to get along so well that in the scene where they burst out in uncontrollable laughter, you can't help but join in with them.

While this film is not as well known now as it was in its day (it just had its premiere on TCM this December), it is one that should be better known, simply for the fact that it is truly a cinematic gem.

Being a great fan of Gaston Leroux's original novel, the 1925 silent version of The Phantom of the Opera with Lon Chaney is one of my favorite films. The only thing missing is the sound. So when I got the chance, I viewed this 1943 adaptation with Claude Rains, expecting it to be fairly good, with a star like him in the lead. Instead, I found it confusing and disappointing.

I hate when screenwriters feel the need to justify their existence by rewriting a story that is already fine as it is. The film bears little resemblance to the book, with insipid subplots and overly-long scenes of invented operas taking up the bulk of the story (apparently, the film makers couldn't secure rights to well-known operas, which explains the absence of the vitally important excerpts from Faust). Because of this, the film becomes a showcase for sound and Technicolor, not the magnificent Gothic Horror/Mystery story that Leroux imagined. It isn't mysterious or romantic, just a mixed bag of silly characters and a meandering plot that is much too predictable.

The one redeeming quality of this film is Claude Rains as the titular character. The few brief moments he is on screen, he gives a beautiful portrayal of a tragic genius driven to murder for the woman he loves--the only problem is, you don't see him enough! Rains is an excellent actor, but isn't given the chance to become a really great Phantom due to his lack of screen time and the significant changes made to the plot. You see his character before he becomes the Phantom, which robs the viewer of feeling any tension of wondering who this cloaked figure is, something that was almost overwhelming in the silent version; and after that, he becomes almost a secondary character to Susanna Foster as Christine and her two (two!) adversarial suitors, whose incessant squabbling add nothing to the plot. He is given a few scenes of passion, but they are mostly toward the end, and due to the fact that in this story, he becomes disfigured by an accident and not born with his deformity, his aching for love and acceptance is far less compelling.

Do yourself a favor, and go out and watch the Lon Chaney version instead. It stays much closer to the original story and is highly watchable, despite its age. This film, not so much.

As someone who loves Charles Dickens and the work of director Mike Newell, I have been eagerly anticipating this film since its release in England last fall. I was fortunate enough to attend its Arizona premiere at the Scottsdale International Film Festival on October 7th, and I have to say that all my anticipation was well justified. It is more than just a good film or a faithful adaptation of one of the 19th century's greatest novels; it is a masterpiece.

I can't understand why so many reviews, both critics and the public alike, are so negative. It is a good watch whether you've read the novel or not. Literary purists will enjoy it for the fact that it stays so close to the book, and casual film buffs will appreciate that the twisting Dickensian plot is made comprehensible enough so that they can follow along as well. Having watched other adaptations including the much-lauded 1946 Lean film version, which was, incidentally, the last time this story made it to the silver screen, others pale in comparison. There is not a thing about it that I would change or want any different. It is probably the best film I've seen all year.

Hats off to screenwriter David Nicholls, who manages to successfully translate a 450+ page novel into the perfect 2-hour film. He kept it to just the right length--long enough to avoid feeling butchered, but short enough so that things weren't dragged out longer than necessary. The pacing was good, and I never felt like something had been "cut out", a rare feeling in a production like this. The preservation of Dickens' own dialogue and his occasional touches of humor lends an authenticity rarely felt in adaptations of his work (ref. BBC's disastrous 3-hour miniseries).

The visual look is lush of the film is lush and gorgeous, with evocative landscapes of the Kentish coast and Gothic interiors looking equally appropriate. The choice of costumes and hairstyles is intriguing, a stylized mash- up of 19th century with a pseudo-theatrical flair, particularly those of Estella's, which was the only element that seems out of place in the story's time period, but overall it works in this film.

What I found to be the most pleasant surprise was how well acted this film was. So many actors seem to fall into the trap of allowing over-the-top theatricality and quirkiness overpower the human side of their performance and all but ignore the fact that Dickens intended his characters to come off as real people, but that trap has been cleverly avoided. The entire cast is ideally suited to their respective parts and give real, moving performances. Jeremy Irvine and Holliday Grainger as the older Pip and Estella gave better performances than I expected from the trailer, and look out for Toby Irvine, Jeremy's real-life younger brother, as Young Pip--he's a scene-stealer! Helena Bonham Carter simply is Miss Havisham, and plays her as she should be played, slightly dotty, but with a reason for her madness. Robbie Coltrane is excellent as the less-than-trustworthy Jaggers, and Jason Flemyng as Joe is literally an exact replica of the character as I imagined while reading the novel. The real standout, though, is Ralph Fiennes as Magwitch. His beautiful eyes carry the character to perfection, and along with a believable but intelligible North Country accent, it's hard to imagine anyone but him in the role.

To sum up, Mike Newell's "Great Expectations" is unquestionably one of the best Dickens adaptations ever made, certainly the best of feature-length, and I recommend it to anyone.