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Pan Nalin's debut takes us on an ambitious ride through many facets of man's life. I do not like to be spoon fed. The films visuals, its art direction, its costumes, its set decoration are really TOO MUCH. TOO PERFECT. They go beyond National Geografic, and end up near an ethnic VOGUE fashion shoot. The 'starring couple' are gorgeously repellent. The female lead is a local (?) answer to 'flavor of the decade' Angelina Jolie. The secondary characters are so expertly cast that you feel manipulated. This is a movie made for Americans. It is a Californian's daydream of exotic proportions. We are transported to something Disney would have loved to concoct, had he allowed sex to creep into his book-of-rules. what the film DOES succeed in, is in giving us a worthy 'finale'. A message which, after such a rally of clichés, comes as a welcome surprise. We hear a WOMAN's view-point! We learn a lesson. "You can and will find your spiritual path amidst people, in nature...just by LIVING." it is not necessary (or healthy) to retire to a temple, as a yogi, or a monk, in order to fulfill your spiritual aspirations. So, it comes as a pity that such a good message should be served up with cynical, glossy manipulation by the director. Bertolucci gave us a typically Italian visual overkill with 'Little Buddha', but Pan Nalin just couldn't resist giving the Indian Tourist Board a brisk business boost. All I felt is..."Oh God! More hordes of tourists will be squirming at home, desiring a slice of all that exotic, stylish Nepalese decor. More authentic plates, mirrors, instruments etc. will be sold off to N.Y. lawyers' wives for good $$$.... and , goodbye to what little is left of this wonderful corner of the planet.!" And Pan Nalin is , no doubt wondering how to pay his Mulholland Drive rent. His next film may give us the answer.

Injustice. This film deals with it, this film suffered it. Leone and his team never saw a single Oscar for what is, undoubtedly, one of the GREAT movies of film history. Supposedly the reason was that HIS version was far too long, and 'unapetizing' for the American public. Years later, this seems ridiculous. American cinema has topped the record for gore and 'unhealthy' material. And DVD finally gave us O.U.a T. in A. in its glorious entirety. And complexity. Yes, because this script is so perfect, so stimulating and so bewitching, that although I have seen the movie 3 times in the last 30 years, it still surprises me...adds nuances and revelations to it's original story. truly admirable! The facade of good ole, healthy America is severely battered by this story of unhealthy ambition, betrayal, revenge and power. 'Noodles' De Niro (the nick-name of our 'positive' protagonist reminds us that Leone was the king of 'spaghetti' westerns), returns, twice, to the site of past crimes... risking his life and ideals in the process. The savagely bitter finale remind us that he does so, simply because he is 'curious'. Because he NEEDS the truth. And this need, although painful, is necessary. Guilt, it is implied, is a powerful corrosive agent, however icy James Woods' character may be. There is , whatsmore, a sub-text which Sergio Leone works on here, and it is the role of DRUGS in society. In order to bear the injustice and treason, the violence and solitude that life has dealt out, Noodles resorts to Opium, as a source of relief; of contemplation. Could it be that the director is reminding us that Heroin's reign in Italy and in the U.S. during the 70ies and 80ies may closely reflect 'modern' Society's degradation? As always, Leone blends his political criticism of the American way with a strong misogynist vein. His women are few and far between in the westerns, but in the two 'Once upon a time..." movies they are increasingly present, and increasingly foxy. The are either prostitutes or cock-teasers with a strong masochist element. And it seems he prefers the 'honest whore'. This film could be reviewed by a psychoanalyst, a priest, a gangster or a politician , and all, I'm sure, would offer a different reading, as in Kurosawa's 'Rashomon'. But Leone is NOT a subtle film-maker. And maybe this reputation of his as something of a gangster in the, very selective Italian league of the 60 ies and 70ies, cheated him out of the credit he receives only now. Somewhat like Ken Russell in the British panorama, Leone's stylish but brutal approach to the realities of life, hurt the shyly hypocritical sensitivities of public and censors alike... let alone the distributors' in Hollywood. Technically the movie is breathtaking, especially Pescucci's wardrobe, Rochetti's make-up (the aging jobs are almost all superlative, and fundamental in helping us deal with such a complex game of 'flash-backs'), the Greg Tolland-style photography and shots by Tonino Delli Colli, the sets, editing and...of course, dulcis-in-fundo, Ennio Morricone's timeless score which, once again, is part and parcel of the film, an emotional bomb which Leone knowingly 'drops' in all the right moments. Deborah's theme is crushing. And the brilliant use of music and silence in Noodles' visit to his friend's mausoleum... comic and audacious. So, it's 9 out of 10, given that the perfect film may not exist (Jean Vigo's 'L'Atalante' ?), and the nearest thing to reading a GREAT novel, but with the whole 'caboodle' of the art of our time. Il Grande Cinema.

p.s. It is absolutely extraordinary that an Italian,a ROMAN, with a VERY limited grasp of the English language, should endeavour, and pull off, such an ambitious American fresco. His great talent, and that of Mr. Brian Freilino (who helped him coach and survey the realism of nuances in both languages), and of the dialogue writers, greatly surpass the occasional hiccups that we encounter, especially in the childhood scenes. and by the way, ALL praise to the young actors who unjustly precede De Niro and Woods, but only chronologically.

As the film unfurls...the viewer (this viewer) wonders..."Who put SO MUCH MONEY into a biblical film, these days?". The answer starts to appear. The film is a 'set the records straight' operation, funded by Jewish Hollywood, and is flying under a Spanish flag to avoid perception. Interesting. "But Christ WAS a jew!" is a highlight moment...and is screamed by the rabbis. True. What is actually amusing is just how virulent an attack on Cristianity the movie is. The Christian hordes are portrayed as ancient 'bikers', Hell's Angels (forgive the pun). The admirable costume designer, a very talented Italian lady, has opted for 'bandoleros' for the heavies... so that they sub-consciously remind us of the Spaghetti- western villains of 'For a fistful of Dynamite' and its likes... and I'm sure that if the Christians had received access to a fistful of such explosives, the film would have been a riot! The sets are breathtaking. Great taste and research. The Heraclium/Pompeii inspired palace frescoes, the Egyptian columns etc. etc. Stunning and VERY expensive. But the film's lack of subtlety is an insult to our intelligence, and makes us truly doubt that its script-writers have told us the REAL story. They have tried to cram a two hour box with hundreds of years of socio-political evolution. They have tried to write off the Jewish phenomenon as something that hinged on a specific day in the distant past. Quite childish. And then there is the casting. Abominable! Especially the males. Maybe the intent was to grab a young audience by using plastic faces more akin to the latter years of Disney than to facial characteristics akin to the era. Rachel Weisz does her very best to imbue her role with value. But, maybe, she is too pretty. Too 'Pretty Woman'. Her class would be drooling, not learning. A more believable , if less obviously 'becoming' actress would have given her character credibility. As I say, surrounded by such males, her plight as an actress must have been very arduous. I would have laughed, the secretly cried.... In short: a dubious, manipulative, ethically ambiguous subject, offered up in a sumptuous chocolate-box.

It is a joy to be able to review one of the most lovable movies in history. BUGSY MALONE lingers in memories of childhood, but it is only by seeing it again, MANY years later, that it's greatness is revealed. As a movie buff, and a member of the movie world myself, I am awestruck by the amount of plundering that this film has received , by GREAT directors! Scorsese has been lauded for his use of 'innovative' STOP-FRAME in 'Good Fellas'. Watch the first 3 minutes of Bugsy M. and you will see how Alan Parker was his inspiration. There are pot-shots at Coppola and at old-time movie classics like Scarface (the original entry, not Al Pacino's rendition), but even Sergio Leone's sets and plot are chock full of Malone's inventions. I refer to 'Once upon a time in America' and its childhood hoodlums. Parker is a inconsistent director. His specialty is casting. Many of his films revolve around this aspect of show-business. From Bugsy Malone (the glorious casting scenes reminiscent of Mel Brooks' in The Producers) to 'Fame', to 'The Commitments'. What is rather thin in this movie, as though the money ran out when it came to this stage, is the orchestration of the music. The songs are catchy, and although rather weird (as they are clearly sung by adults), they feel tinny, thin, bare... It's a pity since many stuck with me after only ONE viewing in a cinema in London, many years ago (proof of their catchiness). A special mention must go to young Martin Lev, as the very bad Danny D. He really understood his part to a tee! And WHO didn't fall in love with sultry Talullah! Long live Bugsy Malone. And CHEERS to all involved in a movie which makes me dream of an alternative Hollywood, where ALL films are acted solely by children!

In a sense this film has two great merits. It is a 'period piece', perfectly capturing the Zeitgeist of the USA in the end-of-the-sixties/start-of-the-seventies. But it is also a map to where the US went wrong, if we watch it nowadays. The script, acting sensibility, and directorial prowess make this film a true icon within North American cinema. The feeling is that this film, like Nicholson's character in fact, has no place amidst the bombast, hypocrisy and garish vaudeville of mainstream Hollywood. It is crude but sophisticated, rebellious but focused. And perfectly filmed by Lazlo Kovacks, the man who gave 'Easy Rider'its visuals. The male and female psychologies are brilliantly handled and portrayed. It comes as no surprise, therefore, that a woman has written the script. Nicholson portrays his character with strength and ambiguity, and his suicidal drive is creative, desperate and coherent DESPITE the many paradoxes within. He is our true anti-hero. We root for him despite his flaws, and when he returns to his family home, we truly sense the suffocating backdrop to his former life. Never condescending, the script allows us to discover all the subtleties, all the bitterness, all the hate, resentment and tenderness which float in that house. And now we understand HIM better. So the film's harsh but 'open' finale comes as no gimmick. And the final scene is like a signature at the end of what is, undoubtedly, some sort of American masterpiece.

An interesting choice. Prostitution amidst university students. Rich old men who spend their money on flesh. Modern 'dettachment'... separating the body from the heart, the soul, the mind. Most of the critics of this film seem to dwell on complaining that "our world is not like that! All the people here are horrible...!!!" Of course they are missing the point. We are watching crude realities, but also dreams, symbols, Freudian/Jungian fetishes... A woman is directing. Jane Campion is producing. This is also a 'clue' that MAYBE there is more to this film than meets the eye... Behind the veneer are MANY hidden truths.( Behind the Twin Towers, behind the choice of a black president after a guy like Bush jr.) Separation from the truth. We are all 'anaesthetised'... so Lisa is NOT so strange, after all. Money rules. Maybe we are victims of our society, of our times. We are 'dead', as T.S. Eliot wrote some years ago. Of course the world is full of wonderful, hearty, passionate and generous people. But this film aims elsewhere, and I myself feel grateful to its director, scriptwriter (and , why not, actress) for taking the plunge, and re-floating Pasolini's 'Salò' in a more digestible (maybe more intelligent?) guise. Kubrick? His last movie may still reveal something in the future (ALL his films age very well), but he was an elderly man, and this young director seems to have the upper-hand in as much as hitting the nail on the head with the 'ésprit-du-temps', the 'Zeitgeist' or, more plainly,(and painfully), the new age our youth are forced to grow up in. Somewhat puzzled at first, I gave this film a chance...let it 'breathe', in my conscience and intellect. I'm glad I did. It contains more than one morsel of food for thought.

Boredom. In a sense this film, based very faithfully on Fenoglio's book, is a philosophical study on life as a sequence of periods of boredom, shattered by sudden action. And WAR seems to depict this condition perfectly. Viewers seeking traditional war-movie gimmicks, beware. This film embarks on another, far more realistic, depiction of 'action'. It reminds us that true ethics in war (in this case the Partisan's Anti-Fascist cause), come with severe sacrifice. Hunger, fear, cold, and... boredom. The movie centers on 'Johnny'...partisan codename for our intellectual protagonist... and on the fellow fighters who come in and out of his personal sphere during the German occupation of northern Italy. Here, 'the enemy' is not only foreign, but (most bitterly) local; Italian. Much dialogue and voice-over is dedicated to Johnny's musings, doubts and convictions about the whole affair. It is an intellectual's movie.But that doesn't make it an élitist film. It stays by the side of the common man, straight to the end. And it doesn't shun sudden outbreaks of action. As a spectator I was constantly made to 'feel' the biting cold of the 'langhe' region where,(all the more realistically), the true events portrayed actually took place. Death appears in a burst of sudden gunfire amidst the bracken, and just as promptly all is calm and bucolic again. Chiesa's direction is dry, maybe a trifle stiff in interiors... but on the whole he is able to maintain the balance between literature and film which "Il Partigiano..." requires. All acting is very effective. On seeing Steven Soderbergh's approach to filming the two CHE GUEVARA films a couple of years back I was instantly convinced that THIS movie was viewed by Del Toro or Soderbergh first, and used as a guideline for how 'guerrilla' movies (as a pose to fully-fledged 'army movies') should be shot. It is no small achievement that this film has paved the way for a truly realistic approach to the 'existential' tangle of war, putting aside the flamboyant, adrenalistic, gung-ho style of the various 'Platoons' or 'Apocalypse Nows'. If you can find it...see it. And pore through it as you would a good book.

Nowadays the French have come up with a renewed 'cinemà verité' formula , but it's based on social issues...ordinary folk, factory workers, union struggles, and the unemployed. Director X.Giannoli is foxy, but NOT as intelligent as he thinks. We are spoon-fed a story which becomes increasingly improbable, but which is sold to us with all the ability of... a con man. In this case, the director himself. Judging by a comment I have just read in this Data Base, he has found at least ONE dupe.... Con-Man stories can be very intriguing, in literature and in movies. Giannoli's skill is in the 'feel' he gives the movie... a truly 'documentary' cut, jerky but subtle photography; unusual actors...mainly the two lead female roles... and , of course, Depardieu whose now customary flabby, and 'whogivesadamn' look and attitude make us believe, and hope, we're in for some serious, provocative cinema. But, alas, things go downhill fast. Chance, and a vaguely comic misunderstanding, lead us up the garden path to a sequel of highly unlikely events (justified by the usual 'based on a true story' prologue). Far from wishing to spoil the potential viewer's curiosity, I shall only say that, as the film draws to a (flimsy) finale.... I, and I am sure , many others, start mentally collecting the highly improbable 'plot points', and end up feeling , well.... frustrated and somewhat cheated. Giannoli has done a variety of good things, but one too many smart ass tricks. The female protagonist is a courageous choice, given her not too graceful appearance. Mr. Cluzet is fine, until he,literally 'bares his teeth', luckily well into the story. The 'rescue scene' is strangely 'Hollywood'; out of keeping with the otherwise fairly austere style chosen by the director. Maybe the first sign that something is awry, comes with the whirling carousel of construction machines, trucks and 'catterpillars' which suddenly spring out of nowhere. Not only do they torment the protagonist, they warn the expert film-buff that he/she is in for a few, not too credible, surprises. Or Rip Offs. And Depardieu? One suspects he was doing the director a little favor here. His two appearances are all too brief and his celluloid 'au-revoir' is downright embarrassing. On an ethical level, too, the film is lost at sea. And those typical printed lines which appear on the black screen as an epilogue, seem to mop up the messy floor that director Giannoli leaves us with, A few sloppy and weak 'explanations'. Have I been too harsh? Maybe. But you see, I don't like being 'conned'.

Every now and then a true gem pops out of the past... that is, if you are a keen cinema-goer (or movie-viewer...as, nowadays, only kids go to the movies). The day of The Locust is what John Schlesinger had up his sleeve after the huge success of 'Midnight Cowboy'. It was his 'pot shot' at Hollywood. It was his Guy Fawkes beneath Parliament. It was his warning that the Twin Towers story COULD just be a sordid masquerade...although, of course, he didn't know it yet. They say that Hawthorne's book is far more engrossing. Sure... books take up ten times more time to unravel. His characters are mean-spirited, calculating, 'cold fish'...and what they get is what they deserve. But I feel Schlesinger and his script-writers made a worthwhile effort to imbue even these squirming serpents and cold-blooded insects with a breath of pathos, and humanity. And rightly so... the story GAINS points. 'Locust' sometimes feels more like Bergman, Fassbinder or (even) Fellini than like an American film. It reminds us of Grosz. Of German decadence between world wars. We are, often sub-consciously, led down grim corridors of analogy.... Nazi hysteria... Hollywood Boulevard madness. We are voyeurs... we watch a giant Dream Machine which spawns future mutants... frustrated maniacs. And literally DEVOURS its pathetic 'extras' and hopefuls. That is why the overtones of the film seem ,somehow, biblical. David Lynch's source-material is suddenly openly revealed. THIS MOVIE! We have Twin Peaks themes and characters... Mulholand Drive, even more so... Blue Velvet...and so on... But hey! Let's be fair.... anyone who has ever REALLY known Hollywood can only nod and say..."Yes...It's all true.... And if I'm still here, in the industry,.... I'm either a hypocrite, a victim, or a pervert of sorts." ALL the characters are crazed atoms of the American Dream Factory. And Schlesinger opts for a finale worthy of another British, but surprisingly hot-bloodedly so, director... Ken Russell. Madness on the rampage. But is he only a fine line away from exaggeration? Is he not symbolically 'spot on'? That's for you to decide. Meanwhile, the film has done the job it came to do. Maybe even better than 'Chinatown'. And, believe me, the HEY DAY of Hollywood may seem far away and long ago... but the manic drive and sexual black-mail we observe in this reptilian display is all too contemporary to our time. Bon Apetit! (If your digestive system is up to it).

Negative reviews are mainly a waste of time. Watching all this film was also a waste of time. The director treats his characters like morons, his women like dross and the public of radio listeners as 11 yr. old Beatles fanettes... Worst of all, is how he treats US, the spectators. I've been a radio buff for years, host my own program, have a large and very special collection of material, mostly on vinyl, and was brought up secretly listening to John Peel, under my cushion.... so, as the film kicked off, and a schoolboy does just what I used to do, I was... well... expectant. But the frenzied locomotive that the director thinks he's cleverly conducting, soon goes off the rails. We digress to stupid, senseless romps with tarts in the dark, and a 'coming of age' theme as hackneyed and un-witty as few which have graced the screen. Only Kenneth Brannagh, as Hitler. made me perk up my curiosity for a while... but then the repetition set in and.... R.I.P. The movie tries to pump energy into a dismal dead whale of a ship. Upper-Class twits of the year, 'cool lady-killer DJs' and awkward lesbians with a last-minute runner-up prize, Thick but Pete Townshendsy cuties and a host of other clichés are scattered all over the place, like chutney splodges on fancy-dress costumes. ANYONE who truly knows the pleasure of radio will feel deeply embarrassed by this storm in a tea cup, where nothing is TRULY felt or considered. Ever since "Trainspotting", British cinema has floundered about with this kind of jerky editing, strident over-acting and hollow artificiality. Give me Spinal Tap's balance and humour. And keep off the Kinks, The Who and Donovan. This film really does Radio and Music more than a bit of a dis-service.

Jesus Aranda portrays a Taxi driver in Lima , Peru. Although an 'ordinary' man, his life is by no means un-complicated, and his energy, passions, and need to survive, get him entangled in a series of complicated situations. His own way of trying to understand and solve his existence is... by reading Tarot cards. For himself, and for others. We visit Urban Peru in its strongest, most colorful and (in the eyes of many a viewer, I suppose) most tacky guise. But Quattrini directs with such fresh compassion, that our desire to 'judge' the characters who make up this rich and tasty meal, simply dissolve. So although our Protagonist spends the money he so humbly earns (or wins!) on booze and prostitutes, we STILL stand by his side as the film progresses.... He is a flawed human being, but he recognizes this. And the frankness and beauty of his relationship with his daughter, the sadness of his doomed relationship with his wife, of his pathetic business deals,of his dependence on whores, all make us know and 'feel' for him the more. This is greatly due to the main character's natural disposition. Aranda is like a ripe plum. Almost the unwilling star of a Bollywood movie. He is a smart-ass but also as disarming as a small child. Excellent casting indeed. The film is crude at times, realistic and never, in fact, 'vulgar'. All its characters are somehow lost in the desperate jungle of this colorful but difficult Third World city. They all try to survive. Some have no dignity, others do. We are taken into this planet, allowed to enjoy its colors, feel its heat, see its sweat and almost smell it. Truly a small wonder of a movie, although at first sight this may not transpire. A tricky rip-off in order to win a football match, a date with a hooker which is disarmingly pure, an Argentine business man who should be working for other people's health problems but has a severe one of his own; all these are but some of the quirky ingredients of this cruel but charming movie. Neo realism, when well employed, can still be an 'eye-opener'. See 'Chicha tu Madre'. I'm very glad I did.

(Mis)Quoting a review precedent to my own. "I pity the fool who enjoys this film". I would like to think that someone who, in this day and age, still turns a blind eye to mayhem, violence and gut-reaction , brainwashing-induced racism, and actually ENJOYS this movie, is only a sick dinosaur. Along with The Blind Side, but WAY more blatantly so... this movie supports all the worst racist, dollar-worshiping, condescending traits of contemporary U.S. culture. It is dismal. It pops along at a 110 million dollar budget speed, celebrating 75 years of 20th Century Fox, and re-creating a Frankensteinesque mixture of 'Kelly's Heroes', 'Mash', and god-knows what else, but ALL turned topsy-turvy on its head... and into a Fascist Manifesto for justified (?) violence. Even Mahatma Gandhi becomes a target for disdain, and our MR T replacement, the token Black American who complies with these sick white men in their childish lust for 'action', adrenalin, and pure murder, is made to feel regret for having had second thoughts about his murderous behaviour!!! AGAIN, a Rumsfeld and Wolfowitz million-dollar production, aimed at recruiting excited numbskulls for US missions abroad. The Film skips from Mexico (REAL BADDIES) to IRAQ (The usual suspects) to Germany (The Euro threat), and kills many by-standers along the way... without explaining a single motive... save the tired old refrain that it's: "A WAR FOR PEACE!!!" (Reminder of Mr. Obama's pathetic, Orwellian speech when accepting the Nobel Peace Prize?!) I can't expect that a single, sensible grown-up outside of the Empire of North Amerika can accept this tricky, contorted and apparently childish movie. Unfortunately (as the occasional IMDb review confirms), more than a few U.S. 'citizens/prisoners' oblige, and, approve. I saw it on a long-range bus ride. It ruined the ride, and kept me from sleeping. Beware! p.s. Shame on Liam Neeson for playing the 'lead'.

Forgive me the flippant title but... The two young Argentine directors behind this movie have served up an interesting, stylish, oddly provocative film using what Argentina is rather good at... a keen interest in all things foreign. The film could well have been a British class-clash movie. It has all the controlled tension and violence of a British movie. BUT... it's more attractive, more quirky, and more cosmopolitan. It seems to tell us that however much mankind tries to adorn the ANIMAL within.... it is ALWAYS there, looming, and ready to pounce. Socialy the film is a slice of 'state.of-the-art' Argentina (a country which is in constant mutation, like a huge anaconda shedding its skin). But a New Yorker or a Londoner, o even a Parisian would undoubtedly feel very well represented by the subject matter and milieu. One protagonist is a '"succesful Modern man", an interior designer, living what looks like a perfect life, but , as the film progresses, reveals itself to be an angst-ridden nightmare. The OTHER is a psychotic freak.... or is he? The way our points of view are manipulated to shift, as the film unravels, is very amusing, and revealing. Are we ALL a bunch of brainwashed bigots? A good question, from Argentina. MUY BIEN, AMIGOS!

The soundtrack reminds one of one's own amateur attempts at 'shooting a home movie' on one's family camera. BIG DEAL. The film is SO GOOD that this 'drawback' becomes a PLUS! We are taken into the heart of our Western wasteland. We are shown what simple sentiments, under duress, under discrimination, under a culture where poetry and playfulness are nearly redundant, can mean. We MEET people we would not usually, have the courage or desire to approach... in THEIR surroundings. But this is not the usual ARTY VOYEURISM that even the best films in the 'social' genre usually put out... This is curiosity, respect and compassion. This film is TENDER. This film is a healing but sad, but beautiful experience. I saw it in Buenos Aires, Argentina where it has been running in a central cinema for...six months! In Italy NO ONE has seen it. This information says it all.

Here is a great opportunity. The chance to discover how human beings were BEFORE getting trapped in the WEB (excuse the pun) of technology. Man's respect and position in/for nature, reminiscent of those ties which still (barely) exist amidst the Maoris and Eskimoes, and the surviving Indios. Africa, the mother of mankind. Magic, NOT as Hollywood sees it. And for N.Y. intellectuals and Viennese literati, a Freudian twist which is as old as Mythology. The Father/Son clash. This ranks alongside the best of Satyajit Ray, and , in some ways, shares his themes. This is Brother Africa as Ray is Sister India. This is the intense celebration of Man's strength, and of his weakness. An African masterpiece. A patient sequence of revelations. A real JEWEL. And if you are here, you are either a lucky newcomer or a lucky viewer. Thankyou Sissé. Thankyou Africa!

Recently skipped through a past Leonard Maltin Film Review 'bible' and was almost disgusted to see the he (or one of his hacks) gave the movie in question 1 1/2 stars! It claims the Music delivers no memorable song, and that the Special Effects stink. I saw this movie back in 1971 in an Austrian Cinema. It was dubbed. The song went "...Hei! Ho! Shitty Shitty Bank bank..." (sic)but still... It was a memorable experience. Since, I have seen the film countless times now, with my two kids and we all adore it, and sing along to its MANY great songs. The 'special' effects are charming, and appeal to children, as their 'collage' quality arouses a suspension of disbelief... which is more POWERFUL.. and just what children want! Anyone who enjoyed Mary Poppins, will find many similarities between the two films, as, much of the cast and crew were shared, as well as more than a couple of Dance routines. The Songs were penned by the same songwriters, too... And James Bond fans will be interested to now that Albert 'cubby' Broccoli produced 'Chitty...' after 'Thunderball' (or was it 'You Only Live Twice'?) and utilized the submarine base set for baron Bomburst's hidden Dungeons where children are kept in dreadful conditions. But more due must go to Roald Dahl's quirky, somewhat perverse imagination when it comes to the 'darker side' of the movie , than to Ian Fleming, as another 'commenter' claims. The film is long, but has many highlights and very few pitfalls. So HOORRAY for courageous Producers,Directors, Art Directors, Actors and Scriptwriters. To Musicians and Directors of Photography... in short to ALL who have the VISION to leave us with real pearls which stand the test of time! Viva Chitty Chitty Bang Bang!

O.K. so there are hardly ANY Rock movies out there, that is... when we consider how big a THING Rock is, and how many movies are made every year on this busy little planet. But BOY, what a downer to chance upon such a string of clichés as this. And all the scenes HAVE to wrap up with some 'comic' tidbit. I stared getting worried when I heard the film soundtrack. Not so much the actual songs, no... the 'filling-in stuff'... that typical schmaltzy crap which was dangerous even to a great little film like FISH CALLED WANDA, and which lurks about in 90% of British TV movies and sundry stuff... SPINAL TAP lovers BEWARE! catching the funny/sad side of Rock 'n Roll is no easy task and the TAP bunch really found the recipe and intelligence to tread this tricky line. Mr. Brian Gibson and his (merry?) bunch go straight through all the classic 'bits' but with the subtlety of a Belgian Bar Girl. Hey! Come on! EVERYBODY wants to be teased into FEELING clever! So why does the poor viewer have to cringe time after time? In short. It's a VERY old British TV recipe being served up. Even "On the Buses" was far better . Rockers can be pompous,childish, twittish,farting, dreamers (God only knows I AM ONE) but... let's get a NEW angle on this miserable list of pathetic 'adventures'. Pity... this fruit COULD have been strange... but somehow turned out being boiled.

Anyone who likes to contemplate and collect SPECIAL moments may want to hastily add COCALERO to their DVD collection. It is a special, simple,moving film. When it starts it is just a trickle... then it gets Flowing.... and before you know it you are trapped in this Human River of hope, strength and (long suppressed) pride which leaves you (or at least ME) wet -cheeked. An AMAZING feat by both EVO MORALES, Bolivia's First Indigenous President, and by the unobtrusive but ever-present Fly-on-the-Wall Director of this poetic-political Jewel. A film to re-kindle the hopes of even the most cynical. (p.s. It is also a point in favour of the director of this documentary that in no precise moment do we feel the , all to often present, hand of the demagogue. No 'preaching' irritates the viewer. We are simply voyeurs of the basics of political mechanics, and we are left to contemplate that if THIS is what the strangely naive Bolivian Indios use as political tools to insinuate themselves in the apparently Air-Tight chambers of Econo-Politics IMAGINE what the highly-funded machinery of G8 countries employs. Best Scene? There are many. I marveled at Morales' "in your face" approach to The Military's preoccupations with their future role in the political chess-board (should Evo win, that is). Comic and Eerie at the same time!

How two talented actors stumbled into this mess, how another got out in time (by the skin of her teeth), and how all was messily (and slyly) resolved in the last minute of the film. So Edward Norton made me feel uncomfortable... but not thanks to his magic skills, as I had eluded myself... Rather I wanted him to take the first plane out of this trashy melodrama and save his screen reputation. Instead he stuck with it, with his flimsy voice, shaky pseudo English (at times Austrian?) accent, and childish plot and direction. Weak. That is how he seemed to feel. And that's no good feeling for an actor in the middle of a film. Something like remembering you can't swim as well as you thought, as a storm whips up at sea. Giammati slipped out of this with only the shame of having been IN this mess. 'Sideways' and 'American Splendor' save him, and will remain his little jewels. Viewers who admire the setting (Prague) and romance can Czec, oops, check out Canone Inverso (Inverse Cannon) a late-nineties Italian Box Office hit which is just as ludicrous as this fare but at least came first. The Illusionist is a copy of this other film with a couple of magic tricks extra. Locations, shots and... even the LEAD ACTRESS are straight out of the Italian movie. We are led to wonder what ever eluded Mr.Burger (yes, the director's name)into thinking he could pull this trick off. Luckily MOST awful experiences have an UP side. The young illusionist's encounter with his first wizard (by the roadside) is actually quite compelling, AND Liv Tyler got out of doing this movie just in time... much to her favour. The Moral IS... Burgers are BAD for your digestion; that is, unlike you LOVE fast-food. (p.s. The best bit was in the End Titles where a relative of the director appears on the crew and, BELIEVE IT or NOT, she is called: Anita Burger!)

When a Peter Sellerish Peasant from an unidentified Muslim country decides to 'visit' Italy ( a country he dreamed of emigrating to), his fantasy is made greater due to a tactical mistake.The vessel that is transporting him and his kin there, has to ditch them on a beach... and, separated from the rest, he unwillingly wanders into a 'Club Med' style holiday resort! From this moment on his Odyssey is just that. Odd! A very pretty teenage blonde falls for him, mistaking his few Italian phrases (which he has learned from T.V. commercials) for wise sayings. Her 40 yr. old, ambitious, Berlusconi-inspired, boyfriend, at first jealous, turns this mishap to his advantage, exploiting the poor immigrant during a Marketing Convention. Confusion turns to Chaos... then to Mayhem. The film is nearly funny, and definitely tries to update the Hollywood humor of "The Party", and of "Being There"... and nearly pulls it off. Ahmet Ugurlu , as a Peter Sellers alias is excellent, as is young Italian 'starlet' Martina Stella. We also enjoyed Prodan's take on Umberto Virgili, the Career Minded snake,and owner of "Millionaire" tourist villages. But sloppy direction,and too much zig-zagging eventually 'down' this pleasure boat.

This movie jumps from one movie-cliché to another. Even a half-hearted movie buff can't avoid wincing at the amount of 'déja-vu' moments the Hughes Bros. chuck at you... There's Scorsese 'moments' galore (even DeNiro film-debut re-makes), and ideas from Lynch's "Wild at Heart" are randomly (and stupidly) used here and there. Oliver Stone is ransacked in the Vietnam sequences, as is Coppola (in sloppy "Apocalypse Now" re-creations). In fact all is told in such a heavy-handed,un-intelligent way, that the viewer is 'turned off' pretty quickly. No one likes to be treated like a moron, least of all a movie-buff... So who was this movie made for? Audiences who have never seen the seminal movies of the last 25 years? Oh! It was a surprise to see the excellent Martin Sheen in the un-billed role of a heartless war-vet judge. At least he managed to avoid being hit by a flying chair. I sat through this and wished I had avoided this graceless BOMB!

What many viewers seem to ignore... DIABOLIK is staple Italian diet to millions of Italian 'fumetto' (comics) readers to this day. The surreal element of the Bava movie, and the immoral/amoral characteristics He and Eva Kant possess are part- and -parcel of the comic's legacy. Check out the slick Italian site and 'read' some original classics, designed and written by the Giussani sisters, the two spinsters (Yep!) who invented the whole saga! Really weirder than you can imagine!

p.s. Lavish Producer Dino DeLaurentiis gave Mario Bava 3 times the money he actually used to shoot the movie. Although it LOOKS lavish , Bava felt the comic's original feel would only be maintained with a suitably 'humble' budget. Go tell Hollywood!

Shot in the Apennines mountains in central Italy, by Italian Box Office breaker Piraccioni and his friend Veronesi, this 'comedy'- of- sorts makes us crave for the days of REAL spaghetti-westerns... Apparently Bowie wanted to 'have fun' and "work with Harvey Keitel, an actor I very much admire...". Unfortunately he/they chose a bummer. This is no "Once upon a time in the West" by 'maestro' Sergio Leone. Egos clashed a few times, and , worst of all, the outcome of this Eurotrash venture is soggy stuff. Such good taste as a musician (Bowie) doesn't guarantee the same when it comes to choosing a script. I hope he enjoyed the Italian cuisine, at least! p.s. Mr Keitel, on the other hand, has a shoddy 'track record' too, with the exception of a handful of 'stand out' films and roles... thank God he hasn't learned to sing!

See this film. Understand why Bertolucci filmed (and botched up) The Sheltering Sky. See why Wenders, the GREAT Wenders remains nothing more than a talented Film Student next to this one... This is the all time Road Movie. The all time 'escape' movie... This is 1970ies Pirandello brought to you via the screen persona of an incredible Jack Nicholson. This film is for 'contemplators'. For addicts to SLOW adrenalin. PLEASE DON'T EXPECT ANYTHING FROM IT. Pick it up like someone who chances upon a cover-less book on a long distance Train Journey and casually starts reading to pass the time... THIS, believe me, is Antonioni's REAL masterpiece. His 'sleeper'. I crave seeing it again. I am waiting for the DVD. I'm not alone in doing so. Mr. Antonioni's analytical eye for visual detail... for the SPACE AROUND THINGS deserves only DVD. The best secrets remain unsolved, and often unseen. Professione: Reporter / The Passenger. A western Tarkovsky... only better!

I won't spend time on the plot, THAT's what the Plot Outline's for... Rather, I'd like to point out a few aspects of this film that struck me. Uno. Considering it's production and directorial source (Italian), this film captures the English/American/Italian cocktail surprisingly well! For a change we're not in Rome or corny Tuscany, but in the austerely handsome Veneto, a far more likely habitat for the cold-blooded likes of Mr. Ripley. Due. Considering the fact that the film's director is a woman, and over sixty, the film surprises for its near Hitchcockian skill in handling violence and suspense. The 'camp' train-murders scene is (almost) an instant classic!* Tre. Considering Signora Cavani's interest in homosexuality, the film handles the subject with subtle ambiguity. Funny and something of a poke at her own personal 'dilemma', the shot of Miss Caselli's bust and Mr.Malkovich's hairy arms playing the harpsichord is a witticism which acts as the director's signature! A man trapped in a woman's body (?)...

To be quite honest I enjoyed the film, especially the up-tempo performance of Winstone as the very British 'spiff', giving the vampire-film a bit of necessary vibrant blood. Malkovich's soft spoken Ripley is a far more subtle, credible, or... well... at least ENJOYABLE variation of the 'sofisticated killer' made world-famous by the 'Hannibal Lecter/Anthony Hopkins Team'. Italian critics have been scathing with Cavani. Critics in general have not been to kind with Malkovich either (they say he's dishing out his reptilian stuff again). May be... But he's better at it now, and the film is his little Puppy. Forget the critics and don't be too critical... Rent the movie. You might be surprised!

* Patricia Highsmith wrote the books.... why shouldn't Liliana Cavani shoot the film! As a matter of fact Hollywood's ghastly "The Talented Mr. Ripley" was an atrociously kitsch stab at the Man and the Country (Italy), a Technicolor 'Roman Holiday' gone wrong.