It is fairly pointless lamenting the lack of hard SF on the big screen as frankly it is unlikely to give the box office returns necessary to sustain more than the occasional oddity in these less artistically inclined times (exceptions like Primer, good as it is, slip well below the big studio radar). But there is some intelligent SF out there that shows the genre can escape from the gee-whiz techno-fetishism of the blockbuster showcase spectacle that (come on, admit it) we all love. Amidst the mediocrity that has defined this year’s big names there have been some surprisingly intelligent entries that also, shock, provide entertainment value. That this year provided as many examples of good sf as it did can only be applauded, even as we lament the more vacuous or self-worthy of offerings plied by the major studios.

Superman ReturnsDonning the costumes and looking serious for the third time comes those mutinous mutants mired in a miasma of moral ambiguity – The X-Men. Will it be curtains for mutant kind as a “cure” for their afflictions is about to be issued? Will two top thesps out-camp each other with serious prognostications of victory and Armageddon? Will the disenfranchised angel-winged son of the anti-mutant executive turn to good(ish) mutantdom or bad(ish) mutantdom? Will Wolverine ever stop being such a pathetic macho bore? Surprisingly Brett Ratner’s “if it doesn’t move, make it move” ethic resulted in a perfectly serviceable piece of film-making. The battles are big, the stakes are high and any deficiencies with the rushed effects are glossed over with the sheer scale and exuberance of the spectacle. There’s time for introspection and a bit of political ambiguity – just not as much had Bryan Singer been at the helm. But Mr Singer had a superhero project of his own – the stupendously expensive Superman Returns. Having dumped Earth to “find himself in the stars” dippy hippy Superman returns just in time for megalomaniac Lex Luthor to cackle his way through another insane plan involving world domination. Lois Lane has given up the thought of having Superman’s kids (insert Mallrats quotes here as necessary) and shacked up with Mr Sort-Of-Alright-But-A-Bit-Boring and had a kid. Singer clearly reveres both the character (bizarrely – Superman is the most rubbish superhero ever) and the original Christopher Reeves outings. This proves to be both the film’s success and its undoing. With all the seriousness going on, the mythmaking, the post-modern adding of angst, you are eternally grateful for Kevin Spacey’s barnstorming performance as Luthor. The film is a truly spectacular event picture of the old (i.e. Superman 1978) variety which doesn’t just bombard its audience with eye-candy but makes them wait a bit between the glorious set-pieces. The downside is that after an hour and a half it seems as though the ideas have dried up. Inevitably as a genre gains mainstream attention the spoofs start rolling in. With effects technology becoming more affordable the opportunity to parody is becoming easier, especially when anyone in spandex automatically opens themselves to a certain degree of ridicule. Previous attempts include the sublimely idiotic Mystery Men and last year’s limp Sky High. With Jack Black donning the stretchy pants in Nacho Libre the superhero has been brought down to earth with a shuddering bump as he tries to work his way through the lower ranks of the Mexican wrestling circuit to fund an orphanage. Less low-key is Ivan Reitman’s hit-and-miss My Super Ex-girlfriend. Luke Wilson is the hapless fellow who makes the error of dumping Uma Thurman – hell hath no fury like a superwoman scorned. Her vengeance is relentless, but only sporadically amusing.

The last decade has seen a remarkable resurgence in the popularity of the horror film but history repeats itself and we are seeing the fruits of success in the inevitable line-up of sequels and remakes (we won’t trouble you with the tedium of The Fog or demean ourselves wittering on about the PG-13 rated travesty The Wicker Man). So we have Grudge 2, a sequel to a re-make and a re-make of a sequel where Sarah Michelle Gellar (soon to be seen in The Return whose poster isn’t exactly the same as The Grudge at all, honest) passes the spooky reigns to another group of creeped-out strangers in a strange land. Hey, at least it’s not dubbed. More haunted houses in An American Haunting which is, well, like The Haunting (1963) but set in America. And not as good. Amiable enough, with a good turn from Donald Sutherland the film-makers were clearly unsure how to market their film so added in a needless bookending device. Final Destination 3, another entry in the guilty pleasure fairground ride of a franchise (this time they even set it in a fairground) where teenagers who escape their pre-destined death face gruesome and elaborately over-the-top demises. Although exceptionally graphic, the sheer loopiness of the set-pieces and the sense of ghost train joie de vivre makes this a great popcorn-muncher. Kate Beckinsale returns wearing her Kate Beckinsale Impractical Tight Black Number (TM) in Underworld: Evolution, an improvement on the first part but still a complete mess. It’s vampires vs werewolves again with our foxy vamp in the thick of the trouble. And then there’s that sick bunny of a film Saw III (so successful that you can guess what we’ll be writing in twelve months time…) – so revolting that they had to call ambulances to cinemas to aid distraught patrons. Well it is exceptionally sadistic, relentlessly nihilistic and misogynist (let’s see, she’s naked and tortured, he’s clothed and tortured…) but ultimately you never get to know any of the characters except by their means of death. The twisty revelations are fun but by the time you get there you’re hoping everyone’s put out of their misery quickly so that you can rush home and make a cup of tea. Eli Roth doesn’t make this mistake in the similarly brutal, borderline xenophobic Hostel. Roth’s ghastly frat boys stomp around Europe in search of cheap sex and drugs, their Animal House (1978) antics resulting in some very messy business in the heart of ex-Soviet Europe. It engages precisely because Roth has invested time (arguably too much) establishing the characters. Sean Bean fans will surely have rejoiced at the thought of not one but two horror films starring the actor. The Dark, set in Wales, shot on the Isle of Man for tax reasons, has the actor living in a remote cliff-top house. His ex-wife and daughter arrive and the daughter begins to see a ghostly girl who wishes to return to the land of the living. Unfortunately her return means that someone else must take her place in the world beyond. The Dark comes into its own because of its menacing monsters – a bunch of surly killer sheep. It almost manages to pull off this most unlikely of threats. Mr Bean also has wife and daughter issues in Silent Hill, a stylish adaptation of everyone’s second favourite Konami video game franchise (the chances of a Dance Dance Revolution film seem surprisingly slim…). Ultimately this is too reverent to its source material (at one point she searches a desk, finds a key and later has to open a door with it – they may as well stick an energy bar in the corner of the screen) and as such comes across as a series of surreal zombie set pieces intercut with Mr Bean looking anguished and helpless. It does, however, look fabulous and is, surprisingly, centred almost entirely on the female characters. But it is very stony-faced in its dedication to being “serious” horror, an accusation that could not be aimed at Snakes on a Plane. The title is the film and as prime a concept as they get with tough guy Samuel L Jackson getting irate about those “oedipal” snakes on this “oedipal” plane. His job is to protect a valuable witness from assassination by a powerful crime syndicate. The syndicate’s way around the problem is breathtakingly stupid and impractical – get the passengers impregnated with pheromones and let loose hundreds of poisonous, randy snakes on a jumbo jet mid-flight. Snakes On A Plane mostly lives up to its B-Movie premise with dumb jumps, scares and crass humour. There’s more fun in the British horror comedy Severance, a sort of Carry On Hostel, as a group of itinerant office workers on a team building exercise in Eastern Europe find themselves lost and under the watchful eye of some very nasty psychopathic killers. Featuring the cringeworthy motivational boss and the usual range of office caricatures (the toady, the stoner, the geek) the twist lies in the bloody demise of these fishes out of water. Slither tried desperately to take the gross horror comedy back to the heights of Peter Jackson’s most famous film Braindead (1992). Unfortunately it missed its mark, but it tried hard. Written and directed by James Gunn (Tromeo and Juliet, Dawn of the Dead remake and, er, Scooby Doo) it stars Firefly’s Nathan Fillion as a hapless police officer in a small town investigating some very strange and sticky goings on. It’s fun while it lasts, with an amiable cast, but the gags are only for chuckles and the gore’s too gross for a non-horror crowd, but not gross enough to put it on par with Braindead. Still, it hit the spot better than Scary Movie 4 or the big screen debut of Ant and Dec in the overlong Alien Autopsy.

The immediacy of the horror film, its very disreputability and links with grunge culture, has given it a distinct advantage when it comes to putting the finger on the pulse of audience expectations, at least at a basic level. Horror has consistently proved to be a highly profitable niche genre and the returns on often modest budgets are solid. The small budgets and high turnaround give horror much of its relevance – note how quickly the trend for creepy 12A horror gave way to the sadistic excesses of Saw III and Hostel post Iraq (an almost identical reaction to that of the Vietnam War in the 1960’s) as horror films mirror society’s fears. Cinematically SF has, by nature of its development time and general reliance on special effects technology, always had to catch up. Last year’s responses started trickling in with Lucas’s declared anti-Bush Episode Three and Spielberg’s twin responses of War of the Worlds and the non-genre but extremely good Munich. Fortunately this year’s offerings are less bombastic, more considered and offer some hope of revitalising the science fiction genre, which has recently been consisting of guys in spandex and big spaceships. This is the dystopian science fiction film where the future isn’t all good guys and bad guys, there’s little in the way of extra-terrestrial interference and the metaphors relating to the current political climate are as clear as a freshly Mr Sheened window.

V For VendettaThree very different films all offered a bleak vision of our near future, but what is surprising given their diversity in tone and style – one is slick, one grimy, one animated – is how good they all were. V for Vendetta naturally attracted the ire of many – any Alan Moore adaptation gets a grilling regardless of quality (LXG was fair bait, From Hell was seriously underrated). But V for Vendetta told its story well, intelligently and packed in some action too, even if Matrix fans wanted more kung-fu and literary sorts couldn’t take the noise. Add the politically radical message favouring a sort of anarcho-communist future for Britain with terrorist acts aimed at the government and the net result is one of the more thought-provoking pieces of popcorn fodder in years. More strife for Blighty in Alfonso Cuaron’s adaptation of P. D. James’s Children of Men offering a world of anarchy and violence as the population descends into nihilist self-interest following the failure of anyone to conceive for nearly twenty years. If there is no future generation why bother protecting anything? Clive Owen stumbles unwittingly on a potential saviour for the future, putting his life in jeopardy and forcing him on the run in a police state on the brink of collapse. Cuaron films his dystopian future with a grimy realistic look that is at times astonishing – the immediacy of events reinforced by some of recent cinema’s most memorable long takes. A bleak future also awaits an animated Keanu Reeves (no sniggering at the back there) in A Scanner Darkly, surely cinema’s finest attempt at adapting Philip K Dick. Undercover cop Bob Arctor must break a drug ring, a ring in which he finds himself the main suspect. A user of the highly addictive Substance D, his hold on reality becomes increasingly weak as the investigation progresses. Richard Linklater uses a rotoscoping technique to disorientate the viewer and place them in a world of hopelessness and paranoia – the drug talk moving from slacker stoner humour (a Linklater speciality) to outright hostility in a few hazy sentences. Any hopes that the ending would be less bleak than the novel are shattered.

Fortunately, as the dystopian films show, there is more to cinematic science fiction than wacky aliens and super-powers. More contemporary forays into the speculative or fantastical fiction have been attempted this year, with varying success. Unfortunately this year’s The Lake House, featuring Keanu again, managed to [re-make a perfectly acceptable modern Asian film in American for no readily apparent purpose and] throw any plausibility out of the window. The principle is loopily charming – two people in the same house, separated by two years, form a slow romance by writing each other, a feat achieved by an apparent time rift in their postbox. Sadly the Euro-art-film pretensions and the way that the characters can interrupt each other mid-letter – how does that work then? – drain any suspension of disbelief. Tony Scott, the film-maker for whom the term intellidumb was invented, returned with another Jerry Bruckheimer produced piece of slickness. Déjà vu gave us a reasonably intelligent (if you didn’t think too hard), yet pacey story as Denzel Washington finds himself travelling back in time via some vaguely defined wormhole gubbins to prevent a terrorist attack, whilst managing to fall in love. Bridging the gap between the dystopian science fiction film and the superhero film was much derided Aeon Flux. Moving along at a pace that shows its roots as MTV’s successful anime homage the film never flags in its inventive visual style and parade of futurist surrealism. Although ostensibly a live action interpretation of Japanese science fiction staples it nonetheless has the feel and design of a European science fiction comic, one where the ideas and vision supersede cohesion. Ultimately it fails because it tries too hard to make everything coherent, but this is a minor point for what is, for the most part, originally executed genre entertainment.

The Great Yokai WarWith the big three franchises off the radar for this year (Mr Potter returns for what we hope is a better outing than the pompous Goblet of Fire in 2007 as do the Narnia crew, while hopes of Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit fade into “what if…” territory) there seemed to be little for fantasy film fans to sink their teeth into. Even Tim Burton took a backseat after the mighty one-two of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and the sublime Corpse Bride. There was Gore Verbinski’s cash cow (more on that later) and some smaller contenders. Eragon told the tale of a farm boy who found a dragon’s egg and fulfilled his destiny defending his homeland from an evil king, played with lashings of ham by John Malkovich. The small British film Mirrormask looked gorgeous, but somehow didn’t live up to its promising beginning. A ravishing triumph of film-making, but where the heart was superseded by the design, this Gilliam-esque fairy tale is still well worth a watch. Speaking of whom, Gilliam himself managed to return closer to his old form and familiar themes with Tideland where a young orphaned girl is left alone in her house on the prairie. Described by Gilliam as “Alice in Wonderland meets Psycho”, Tideland is funny, moving and strange. Pulling a stunning rabbit out of the hat following last year’s insane superhero film Zebraman, Osaka’s most notorious and prolific filmmaker, Miike Takashi, came up with an epic fantasy unlike any other – The Great Yokai War. Filmed for a ridiculously low budget this is free-form imaginative fantasy at its finest. Bullied schoolboy Tadashi becomes the Kirin Rider at a local festival and is set the task of recovering the Great Goblin Sword. This is a required item because there is evil stirring. Tadashi is accompanied by a variety of yokai, spirits that inhabit all things, on a dangerous journey to confront the evil lord and save Japan from destruction. What sets The Great Yokai War apart is the sheer range and diversity of the creatures in its bulging bestiary; rubber necked women that snake around, umbrellas with tongues, walking walls, cuddly rodents, scaly fishmen, bubbling pollutant monsters, there’s probably even a kitchen sink there. Over a hundred unique creatures populate the frames of the film, all of them with distinct personalities. Less suitable for the kiddies is Tsui Hark’s glorious return to form Seven Swords – a fantasy epic re-working of (surprise, surprise) Seven Samurai (1954) where a disparate band of heroes armed each with one of the titular swords do their darndest to stop the dastardly overlord from pillaging the land. This is exhilarating film-making, visceral and energetic, packed with scenes of superhuman endeavour, deep tragedy, betrayal and loyalty. More big blades abound in the (tragically straight to video here) CGI feature Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children, a chaotic mismatch of alternate realities, fantasy and science fiction. It’s a bit of a mess but who cares when it looks this good? There are motorbike chases, demons, giant robots, packs of savage dogs and hardly a moment goes by without some universe-threatening punch-up. Obviously those seeking realistic physics need to steer clear but for sheer entertainment this is in a class of its own.

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest proved to be the year’s most profitable film, indeed one of the most profitable films ever. The original was the sleeper hit of its year but the sequel went, inexplicably, through the roof. You’d have to be pretty po-faced not to have enjoyed every goofy minute of Curse of the Black Pearl and Dead Man’s Chest offers more of the same, only bigger, louder and with larger coffers of doubloons to splash out on the production. But somehow the end results seem a little less enthralling – like coming off the best rollercoaster ride ever and going on again. It’s still enjoyable but a little of the magic is gone. Kiera Knightly goes all bodicey-feisty, Johnny Depp is superbly outrageous and Orlando Bloom still can’t act for toffee. The basic premise seems to be to split everyone up in a convoluted way so that they can get back together in an even more convoluted way. There are some great set pieces, cannibals, kraken and all manner of cod proclamations. A similar tale of all-out set pieces could be levelled at Mission Impossible III, the feature debut for J. J. Abrams, the man behind Alias and Lost. There are more rounds fired than a John Woo film, more big explosions than Bond and lots of gadgetry and techno stuff. The film is worth mentioning for the trailer alone – a brilliant piece of work that totally wrong foots the audience. Sadly, though the towering performance from Phillip Seymour Hoffman is all that there is to recommend it, it’s overblown, overlong and frankly just plain dull. The immediacy of hand-held camerawork that made Children of Men so immersive appears lazy here. If you’ve got a budget, buy a dolly. Far better in the gadgets and hi-jinks genre (Bond’s back to basics approach excludes it from this round up) was the affable Stormbreaker, based on the popular books by Anthony Horowitz. This really is teenage wish fulfilment as schoolboy Alex Rider finds himself capable of avenging the death of his adopted parent because he has inadvertently learnt the skills necessary to be a top British super-agent. Yes it’s preposterous but find a film listed here that isn’t – Stormbreaker is fun, exciting and, more to the point, (Pirates – that’s you) coherent. Meanwhile Déjà vu gave us a reasonably intelligent (if you didn’t think too hard), yet pacey story as Denzel Washington finds himself travelling back in time via some vaguely defined wormhole gubbins to prevent a terrorist attack, whilst managing to fall in love. Far more low-key was The Thief Lord, a nicely understated children’s fantasy shot though an apparently muddy lens around the streets of Venice. It’s an escape fantasy that takes two brothers into an underground world of homeless children under the protection of the self-styled Thief Lord. The way that the existence of magic is kept in doubt places the film ostensibly in the real world but the melting plot of literary homage (Peter Pan, Oliver Twist, Something Wicked This Way Comes) indicates a more fantastical outcome. An ideal Sunday afternoon watch with the kids.

Two lady in the water films vied for our attention. One, the teen-chick-flick Aquamarine, offered Splash (1984) with hunks, the other, Lady in the Water, purported to be a fairy tale. M Night Shyamalan’s latest was not greeted well by the critics or the public. Caretaker Cleveland Heep finds a naked Narf in an apartment complex’s swimming pool. She needs to return to the Blue World in the claws of an eagle but is being hunted down by vicious creatures that dwell in the grass. Shyamalan always manages to make the extraordinary appear ordinary, it is one of the things that makes his work so appealing. The Lady in the Water continues the themes that are present in his other works and has the potential for being a great little film. Unfortunately it never realises this potential – the plot regularly grinds to a halt only to be kick-started by another revelation squeezed out of the knowledgeable but irritatingly tight-lipped Mrs Choi and some of the self-reverence is a touch tiresome

Pan’s Labyrinth Probably the most difficult films to categorise this year were Pan’s Labyrinth and The Prestige. The former, by director Guillermo del Toro, was moving and imaginative in a way quite unlike any other. Set in 1944 during the Fascist overtaking of Spain a young girl, Ofelia, is forced to live with her new step-father; an evil captain who treats human life as nothing more than an inconvenience. However her new home has an old labyrinth where she meets a domineering faun who tells her she must complete three tasks to claim her rightful place as princess of a grand kingdom. The contrasts between the magical realm and the hell of war make Pan’s Labyrinth a fairy tale for adults – at times brutal, at times beautiful. Throughout the film you doubt everyone’s motives bar Ofelia’s, so the tension is mounted high. This is magical film-making at its very best – Gilliam, Burton and Svankmajer rolled into one. More magic in The Prestige, from Christopher Priest’s novel, as two magicians form a deadly rivalry. Assured and perfectly crafted, The Prestige benefits from tight scripting and a superb cast to make another (really, this is too much in one year) intelligent film for adults. Unfortunately the teaser trailers promised Batman vs Wolverine, causing cinemas around the country to be invaded by fidgeting brats to the 12A rating. Add some swearing please, Mr Nolan, and make the next one a 15…

Perhaps the dearth of franchise excess helped things along but, almost in spite of itself, 2007 turned out to be a solid year for genre cinema.

The Winners (and there were many, many contenders):

Best SF: A Scanner Darkly

Best Fantasy: Pan’s Labyrinth

Most Gruesome Horror: Hostel

Another year has whooshed by, like a probe on its way to Titan. Genre-wise we’ve had more of the same: blockbusters, lots of CGI, and remake upon remake. However a few gems have slipped in under the mainstream carpet. So, was 2004 any good?

Amazing Animation

The Incredibles

The IncrediblesBrad Bird, veteran of The Simpsons and the man behind the criminally under-rated beatnik Miyazaki homage The Iron Giant (1999) joins the Pixar stable for his second feature. Superheroes have protected society from crime with their incredible abilities… that is until a series of lawsuits (including one from a suicidal man who didn’t want to be saved) have forced them into retirement. Now Mr Incredible and his wife Elastigirl have to live ordinary lives under a government protection scheme, their superchildren forced to suppress their powers. But when Mr Incredible is sent on a secret mission it becomes clear there’s a new supervillain at large and the time for anonymity has passed. Brimming with excellent visual gags and witty dialogue there really is something for everybody. Again Pixar have created an exemplary rendered universe that is internally consistent in design and execution. Technically the film is astonishing but this proficiency is used as a tool rather than a means to an end – it is the design (at times perfectly reflecting Fleischer Superman cartoons) and execution that make this exciting, witty and intelligent. It is also proof that animation can work beyond the 80 minute barrier if the material is strong enough.

A Shark’s Tale

Scorsese, Will Smith and de Niro in the same film. And it’s a gangster film. In CGI! With fish! What’s more it earned a pile of cash at the box-office. Must be pretty good right? Well, no. It has poorly structured direction, mumbly dialogue and tedious film references that give post-modernism a bad rap. The time when anything CGI is automatically “good” is long gone – something Pixar realised right from the start by concentrating on scripting and coherent cinematic language over look-at-me visuals and a billboard-friendly named cast.

Shrek 2

The happy couple are back in da swamp and ready to enjoy a life of domestic bliss. However there is the slight problem in that hot-headed Shrek has yet to meet the in-laws, so he and Fiona set off, accompanied by hyperactive Donkey, to the land of Far Far Away. Naturally father in-law disapproves of Shrek and wishes to return the princess back to her former, more conventionally beautiful, self. Shrek 2 provides a steady stream of gags, doing its job well because its scattershot (rather than focussed) approach to jokes means that while some fall flat others work well, and are pitched at many different age groups. Antonio Banderas steals the show as Puss in Boots, purrrrrfectly sending up his Mask of Zorro (1998) persona with a wicked streak of amoral, typically feline humour.

Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow

Sky Captain – Angelina JolieLike the strange offspring of George Lucas and Guy Madden, Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow revels in its retro Fantastic Stories look, impressive but deliberately over-stylised machinery and film technique that harks back to earlier eras. Lovers of Saturday morning serials will be right at home as Skycaptain (Jude Law) must save the world from a terrible fate. Quite simply stunning to look at, the design is amongst the finest of this year’s films. The insanity of the decision to make this virtually all CGI works in its favour because the whole film is internally coherent but basically preposterous, the combination of old fashioned and distinctly cutting edge making for ideal bedfellows. Our science fiction yarn was truly ripped.

Looney Tunes: Back In Action

It looked so good on paper. Joe Dante is, after all, the world’s most vocal Chuck Jones aficionado and long time purveyor of irresponsible anarchic entertainment. And modern cinema’s favourite whipping boy Brendan Fraser has taken almost as many knocks as Jackie Chan in the cause of making people laugh. This pairing in a re-run of Who Framed Roger Rabbit? (1988) (let’s forget, please, Space Jam(1996)) but with more violence seemed a sure winner to succeed. Sadly the plot to re-instate Daffy as a bona fide star and Fraser’s search for his dad feels tacked together. Although there are gags aplenty (including a great sequence in the Louvre) Steve Martin exterminates any pleasure from the proceedings. Looney Tunes work best as short cartoons (see the excellent Wizard of Ow! which precedes the film) – stretching them to feature length makes it all seem increasingly tiresome.

If it’s Worth Doing Once…

…it’s worth overdoing. This year has seen huge numbers of sequels and re-makes, particularly horror films, shocking people too ignorant to rent the original. In some ways this is a hypocritical view – Frankenstein and Dracula films are perennial after all – but something about direct remakes seems somehow… well, pointless. Sometimes the originals are bad films (as in Tobe Hooper’s recent remake of the notorious, and still heavily censored, The Toolbox Murders), but re-making a classic seems tantamount to asking for trouble. We await the proposed remake of Argento’s Suspiria with utter dread…

The Grudge

Here’s a remake conundrum – director Takashi Shimizu has virtually remade his own film (Ju-On) in Japan a few times, but here he is doing it again for a Hollywood audience. What is surprising is how much of the low-key, constantly creepy, motiveless shocks and almost total absence of humour has made it into the westernised version. Even more surprising is the sheer amount of money it made in the box office despite no expensive pyrotechnics and half the dialogue subtitled. This is a great scary movie of the kind we have rarely seen since Halloween – not overtly gory but plenty of jumps. When bad things happen at a place, the spirits live on to be nasty to people for no discernible reason. Classic scary camp-fire nonsense. But… what was the point of remaking?

Texas Chainsaw Massacre (re-make)

What, precisely, was wrong with the original? Well, apparently a creepy policeman was needed and, er, there just wasn’t enough gore first time round. Tobe Hooper’s ‘less is more’ approach (hoping the film would get a PG rating – it was banned for 25 years here in Blighty) created one of the most tense black comedies around, but this time prosthetics and shock tactics go straight for the so-called “hard-R”. It’s not all bad, the book-ended grainy footage is a nice touch and there are a few unexpected twists. The decision to keep it firmly in the 70’s manages jumps on the retro bandwagon but frees it from post-Scream (1996) knowingness. Mildly diverting.

Dawn of the Dead (re-make)

Dawn of the Dead RemkeRomero’s classic 1978 sequel (to Night of the Living Dead (1969) which was re-made by Tom Savini before re-makes became fashionable, allegedly as a way of maintaining copyright) relocated the haunted house to a shopping mall in order to criticise consumerism while providing plenty of splattery entertainment. In this version the mall setting is retained… until script-writer James Gunn (Tromeo and Juliet (1996) and Scooby Doo (2002) [dog]) gets bored and runs riot with the characters’ predicaments. The result is less a re-run or re-imagining (uugh.. please let the phrase die…) than a springboard and it’s all the better for it, especially having zombies that can move at pace rather than just shambling about. Realising that today’s popcorn junkies don’t give a stuff for messages we just get a cracking horror-action yarn packed with clichés and imaginative grue. Add a real early 80’s ending and the package is complete – not art but an ideal ‘Friday night with beers’ film. Interestingly the proposed sequel will be Dawn of the Dead 2 and not Day of the Dead.

Van Helsing

Perhaps fearing that milking Universal’s back catalogue of monsters one at a time was going to take a while, Stephen (The Mummy) Sommers has just thrown loads of ’em together in one film. Van Helsing is now an ass-kicker more akin to pantomime gothic pro-wrestler rather than man of medicine. His side-kick for this mission is Kate Beckinsale wearing her Kate Beckinsale Impractical Tight Black Number (TM). The bad guy is none other than Count Dracula who is after Frankenstein’s creative spark in order to give birth to thousands of kids, spawned by his three brides in a huge cave beneath his interdimensionally cloaked castle. And then things get silly. Sommers throws everything at this one, homages to Whale and Polanski, the less obvious Hammer films (Kiss of the Vampire, Vampire Circus etc) as well as James Bond-style gadgets and hair-raising chase sequences. However, there is a problem. Many films can sustain slightly shabby effects, but Sommers’ brand of downright entertaining nonsense requires a certain verisimilitude that is lacking here, with some of the CGI lacking that difficult-to-depict quality – weight. But it doesn’t stop the film being a good laugh.

Alien vs Predator

Alien (1979) – gruesome star of a series of splatterific s-f films splashing the walls with giblets and mutilated acid-scarred bodies.

Predator (1987) – gruesome star of a series of nasty splatterfilms so unpleasant that they remain heavily censored in some countries for their disturbing content.

Alien vs Predator – rated PG-13 (in the US) to get the kids in. Whoever wins, we lose. Ne’er a more apt tag-line.

Resident Evil 2: Nemesis

Paul Anderson’s Resident Evil was a dumb but fun action flick. But he was too busy making Alien vs Predator (hahaha) to make the sequel, so we have this is a dreary affair instead. Stupendously violent but virtually bloodless, this is the antithesis of the Capcom games where stealth and a dwindling supply of ammo make every bullet count and the deaths all have a visceral impact. Carrying on from part one Alice (Milla Jovovich) faces the normal array of zombies with a new group of dumb-talking misfits for company. Those naughty blighters at Umbrella Corp have an über-zombie/hybrid/thing that, it turns out, is actually… no that would be telling (like you care). Waves upon waves of faceless hordes get mown down, our heroes get trapped, they escape, waves upon waves of faceless hordes get mown down, our heroes get trapped, they escape, waves upon… you get the idea. There are no jumps, no scares (the games are genuinely scary) just plodding, senseless, sanitised violence. More second rate schmup than survival horror. Dreadful.

The Chronicles of Riddick

Chronicles of Riddick-ulousWhen, in polite company, say at a little party somewhere, you mention that you like science fiction films a common response implies that you have rabies and a taste for human flesh. Science fiction, you see, is a genre (apparently) that consists of people with stupid names, wearing stupid costumes, travelling to stupid “high concept” planets, talking pish and pontificating cod-Nietzsche while pointing a laser super destroyer ray at you that looks like a tinsel covered twig. If you can be bothered you normally protest, spraying a mouthful of half-chewed twiglets in their direction crying “no, no, it’s not like that”. Then they mention The Chronicles of Riddick and you know you are on to a loser. Pitch Black’s (2000) unpretentious combination of insectoid splatter and low-budget thrills has somehow spawned this high-budget abomination of a sequel – all portentous semi-transparent Judi Dench and clench-jawed macho gibberish from quite possibly the least charismatic screen antihero of the last decade.

Thunderbirds

“Thunderbirds are Noooooooo!!!” Normally the expression ‘no strings attached’ is a positive thing, sadly this is not the case here. Insert additional witty comments as necessary (“Thunderbirds are C.R.A.P.”, “No M’lady”, wooden acting analogies etc), something anyone who reviews Thunderbirds is compelled to do. Jonathan Frakes continues his long and unimpressive run of films devoid of any directorial interest and in the process has created a virtual vacuum of cinematic technique. Good job Commander Riker…

Blade: Trinity

Parker Posey, in full panto Josie and the Pussycats (2001) mode, and her vampire buddies raise the original vampire from his sandy tomb somewhere in the Syrian desert. The purpose? To kill off stony-faced funmeister Blade (scourge of vamps the world over and, of course, part-vamp himself) and turn the humans into living bloodbags. To make matters worse Blade is filmed bumping off a human (wearing fake fangs) so now has the police on his tail. Then Whistler is killed for, oh, about the thirtieth time in the series, and Blade’s forced to team up with a bunch of green-under-the-collar vampire hunters to defeat the new super daywalking shapshifting uber-vamp and develop a vampire-killing virus. Phew! Utter nonsense of course, but who cares? Blade: Trinity marries one action scene after another and a lot of amusing mumbo jumbo. Scenes of carnage follow like clockwork but each set-piece is at least recognisable from the previous one. As vacuous as outer space but entertaining nonetheless.

Spider-Man 2

Superheroes all go through the ‘disillusionment phase’, especially in the acne-spattered angst-ridden world of Marvel. Forget the litigious futurist world of Mr Incredible, Peter Parker has real problems – he can’t hold down his pizza delivery job, is less than attentive at his studies and he’s broke. Why? Because he goes around saving dumb people from horrible people and gets diddly-squat in return. He even lost his girl to some astronaut. But before you can say ‘hang up your fetish wear’, along come a couple of miffed super-villains; the son of Norman “Green Goblin” Osborn and the recently mutated Dr Otto “Doc Ock” Octavius. The joy of Spider-Man 2 lies in the juxtaposition of the mundane and the extraordinary – of holding a lousy minimum wage job and yet fighting a madman with giant metal tentacles, or visiting your aunt but also fitting in time to face a misguided nemesis. It’s these human elements that make the fantastical ones so exciting. Again Raimi has pulled out all the stops visually. While this may not seem so groundbreaking in the light of many recent blockbusters, it’s worth noting that Raimi has been perfecting his camera techniques for over twenty years.

Haunted Mansion

Workaholic estate agent Jim Evers’ (Eddie Murphy) wife Sara receives an offer to view a highly desirable property providing she attends alone. But Jim tags along with the kids anyway. Just as well, sinister butler Ramsley (Terence Stamp) plans to use Sara to revive his dead master. Disney plunder another theme park ride in an attempt to swell the coffers (we await the film version of the one with the spinning tea-cups with some trepidation) but the result as more a series of gentle undulations than a rollercoaster. There are some nice set pieces and the design is suitably overblown. Ultimately though, it is as transparent and wispy as its many spirits.

It’s Like, You Know, For Kids

Around the World in 80 Days

That Phileas Fogg bloke (you know, the guy who invented unusual snacks in the 1980’s) is played by Alan Partridge and his sidekick, Passepartout (or Biyometrik Eyedeecard as he will be known in the 2008 remake) by gurny-faced kung-fu buffoon Jackie Chan. Together they follow in the footsteps of Michael Palin, only a century earlier. Or something. Fogg’s crackpot ideas have led to a potentially career mauling wager in which he must, as the title so succinctly suggests, traverse the globe in less than three months. Chan’s aboard, off for a free trip back to China (save the village, stolen ancient Chinese artefacts – usual JC Macguffins) – so the recipe is set for an episodic travelogue peppered with star cameos, sweeping international vistas and slapstick. The design is suitably unrealistic, the brief fight-scene in a Paris gallery a slight return to form for Chan and, overall, proceedings tick by on auto-pilot… just no more.

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Chris Columbus retains producing credit but hands the directorial reins to Alfonso (Y Tu Mama!) Cuarón, who gave us an excellent version of The Little Princess (1995). The Prisoner of Azkaban is a far more morbid affair than its predecessors – not only with the first appearance of the Dementors (a great scene aboard the Hogwarts Express) but even in the more overtly humorous sequences such as Harry’s breakneck journey on the Night Bus. Given that The Prisoner of Azkaban started the climb into phonebook page counts that turned (particularly) the fourth book into a cumbersome bore, it’s amazing how much they’ve crammed into the running time. Primarily the Harry Potter films are aware of their target audience and play to it – they look great, are exciting, occasionally scary and show the tribulations of school friendships and rivalries in an fantastical context. The Prisoner of Azkaban manages to succeed its predecessors as superior diverting children’s entertainment. We do, however, wait with dread at the prospect of Mike “Four Weddings” Newell’s The Goblet of Fire, a task that would appear nigh on impossible to do with any conviction. Unless, of course, Harry wakes up exclaiming “fuckity fuck I’m still at the Dursley’s”…

Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events

Lemony Snickets – Jim CareyWe were very concerned that this would turn into a saccharine franchise. Based on the first three books, A Series of Unfortunate Events tells the awful trials of the Baudelaire children, sorry, Baudelaire orphans – owing to the fact that their parents perish in a mysterious fire. Seeking custody of the siblings is the iniquitous Count Olaf (Jim Carrey), a word here meaning “liable to bump off orphans in order to get his hands on their inheritance”, who will try any disguise to grasp the three plucky, intelligent and moderately good-looking children and pinch their cash. Making the books into a feature was always going to be problematic – children like gross things, but parents don’t like them seeing them – so while horrible and unfortunate events occur with alarming regularity, they are occasionally a touch less macabre than the books allow. Carrey is alternately brilliant and irritating as the malevolent Olaf, a word here meaning “evil and gurning simultaneously”, and his impossibly lanky stature matches the books’ illustrations perfectly. The design looks fabulous thanks to Rick Heinrich’s impeccable art direction. The script cleverly places the second and third books in the middle of the first one and includes many Snicket eccentricities (he is an omnipresent narrator) but the result is that the final act is a touch rushed. By no means perfect, but better than we could reasonably expect. Oh, and the end credits (which should be at the start) are fabulous.

13 Going On 30

This year’s “child in an adult mind” comedy (see the Freaky Friday re-make for last year’s) sees schoolgirl Jenna Rink wishing she was no longer 13. Bingo, a sprinkle of magic dust later and she awakes to find herself head magazine design guru, with a very buff bloke in the buff in her bedroom. Yikes! Unfortunately it also conspires that not only have the 17 years made her rich and famous they’ve also made her a total bitch. Naturally her good-natured self tries to rectify all this. Jennifer Garner ditches the tough kicking sf of Daredevil and TV’s Alias and proves more than up to the job of feel-good fantasy comedy. What could easily have strayed into murky waters proves an easy to watch (but consequently easy to forget and wafer thin) comedy of manners and situation.

What, Some Real Science Fiction? Naaaaahhh!

I, Robot

Bzzzzzchhhhttt. Not the sound of servos kickin’ into action on a super-advanced android, but the sound of spinning from six feet under. Onomatopoeia is so difficult. So here we have a high concept title and a marquee star battling with famed “Laws of Robotics”. Oooooooo. Anyone expecting a faithful Asimov adaptation was clearly delusional so just forget about it, alright? Instead we get trainer wearing Luddite Will Smith who’s deeply suspicious about the androids created to serve us. But as there has never been a single case of robots harming humans surely the guy is nuts and not suitable for a police career? And you’d be right, everything’s fine and there’s lots of hugs and feel-good man-android interaction in this beautiful utopian future. Oh alright then, no-one would pay to see robots being nice so of course there’s murder, conspiracy and shed-loads of well choreographed action. Jolly fun it is too and there’s surprising depth in the arguments about humanity and the nature of self that means we have this year’s ‘not as dumb as the sticker suggests’ award for surprisingly decent sf. Not thesis material but at least it attempts to pitch at a level above Janet and John.

Paycheck

PaycheckIf you want to see a Philip K Dick film you’re better off catching up on anything written by Charlie Kaufman (see Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind) than something supposedly based on the man’s actual work. Sure Total Recall is a great film, but it’s only tangentially related to Dick. Along comes Paycheck and initially it looks hopeful – Michael Jennings (Ben Affleck) reverse engineers products for sneaky companies, earns shed-loads of cash but has all his work memories wiped-out to prevent him spilling the beans. Inevitably the ‘last big job’ comes up, it’s dodgy, he wakes up with a year missing from his mind and a set of clues left to him by himself. And everyone wants him dead. And he’s in love with Uma Thurman. Twice. There’s a lot of easy on the eye action (a ridiculous, pointless but energetic motorcycle chase being a highlight) and blah-blah technobabble but ultimately, like its hero, once the job’s over you’ve forgotten all about it. John Woo is slowly crawling back from the travesty that was MI:2, but it’s a far cry from the majesty of Bullet in the Head, A Better Tomorrow or Hard Boiled.

The Village

In the village they keep things to themselves. That’s no going outside the borders (or the bogeymen will savage you) and, naturally, the colour red is strictly forbidden. It’s all very puritanical in a founding fathers kind of a way but for the most part it seems to work. Except some people want to know what lies outside the borders. What is the secret of the village? M Night Shyamalan returns with another creepy-twisty spook tale and this time, to keep you on your toes, he has a number of (un)expected events take you by surprise. Didn’t see the Joaquin Phoenix bit coming! It is, of course, utter hokum but when has that ever prevented a film from being enjoyable?

The Day After Tomorrow

A-ha. Remember that dreadful term they used for The Core? Well it’s back! Science faction or, using technobabble to give an air of respectability to your ludicrous premise. Sincerity in the face of the absurd has always been Roland Emmerich’s modus operandi and here is no exception – The Day After Tomorrow comes with doomsayer prophecies of imminent environmental despair and a plea for liberal (well, alright, democratic) politics in the crucial US election year. Anyway, the environment’s gone to pot and our scientist hero tries to warn everyone. Who, of course, don’t listen. It’s very cold. And he has to go find his son because he feels guilty. Basically this is just a wafer-thin premise for seventies-style disaster movie pyrotechnics. Except there’s never any doubt who is going to live and who is going ‘the way of the extra’, the characters have the emotional thickness of a Rizla and the foreshadowing is signposted in letters a mile high. “Hey! The wolves have escaped from the zoo! I SAID THE WOLVES HAVE ESCAPED FROM THE ZOO!” Wonder if they’ll be turning up later then?

Stepford Wives

Bryan Forbes’ fairly misogynist version of Ira Levin’s very misogynist book gets the ironic modernisation touch from Muppet man Frank Oz. Joanna Eberhart (Nicole Kidman) is the family breadwinner and the face behind a hugely successful TV station but she is having a nervous breakdown. Hubby Walter finds the perfect place away from the hustle and bustle – a house in the high security, multi-amenity, big buck town of Stepford. There’s something strange though – all the men are geeky and devote their lives to leisure while their wives are pretty, docile and domesticated. Wisely Oz ditches the shock twist of the original, figuring that the audience will already be aware of it and concentrates on the revelations as seen by our heroine. Things are certainly played for ironic chuckles this time round and, while the film keeps its subversion tuned to mild, there’s much to enjoy.

Offbeat

Azumi

azumiKept away from the world, ten kids have been trained from birth to become hardened warriors by an elder samurai. Their mission: to stop a devious plan to usurp the current shogun. Their samurai master trains them so hard that half of them fail the entrance test. One who does pass is destined for greatness: Azumi. Kitamura’s films, despite their reliance on stock Japanese stories/manga/history are more easily defined by western pop influences than on traditional Japanese film-making which has its own style of editing and composition. Instead MTV and advertising inform the restless camerawork, Raimi and Romero the visual style. Azumi unashamedly plays to the stalls – its lead is kawaii idoru Aya Ueto who spends much of the film chopping hundreds of people into little pieces while the camera blurs in a free-wheeling burn of motion-tracking and CGI-gore excess.

House of Flying Daggers

To expect one wu xia ‘martial arthouse’ film from a respected film-maker may seem presumptuous (Ang Lee’s Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000), Wong Kar-Wai’s Ashes of Time(1994)), to expect two seems downright greedy. But following on from his multiple viewpoint, breathtakingly colourful Hero, Zhang Yimou has come up with another slice of exemplary swordplay: The House of Flying Daggers. The House in question are an underground bunch of Robin Hood types – a group the authorities want dead. Both sides fight dirty. The police plant their best man as a mole in the Daggers’ camp by trying to get him to earn the trust of blind swordswoman and dancer Mei and lead them to the Daggers’ secret lair. With plenty of twists and turns House of Flying Daggers has it all – intrigue, betrayal, plot twists and doomed, inevitable, love. Quite simply stunning to look at with some of Ching Siu-Tung’s finest wirework yet (and that is saying something!) you’ll gasp in amazement and weep with sadness. Magical.

Bubba Ho-tep

With the exception of an odd handful of films, genre tends to favour the young and able-bodied for its heroes. Bubba Ho-tep not only challenges this narrow-minded view but also answers one of the two most nagging questions of last century – did Elvis really die and is Bruce Lee travelling incognito on a philosophical journey of enlightenment? Well, we’re not sure about the Dragon but the King is definitely alive, infirm and incontinent in a rest home. Where he resides with a guy who swears he’s JFK. There they end up battling an evil Egyptian undead spirit who also wants a bit of TLC in his twilight years. OK it’s a bit of a one gag premise and the budget limitations are quite apparent, but the sight of a Vegas-era suited old Elvis (a role Bruce Campbell was born to play) shuffling down corridors with a Zimmer-frame trying to defeat the undead menace is a hard image to shake. Disreputable fun from Don (Phantasm) Coscarelli

Finding Neverland

Johnny Depp’s mighty CV notches up another winner (for such a popular star he has a frighteningly good batting average) as he tackles the role of JM Barrie, specifically his relationship with widowed Sylvia Davies (Kate Winslet) and her children, and the writing of Peter Pan. The strains of the budget show occasionally and there’s a valiant attempt to reign in the sentimentality, but the delightful blurring of fantasy and reality, the genuine warmth of character and the desire to if not break with convention, but at least bruise it, is all in its favour.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Like David O Russell’s existential detective comedy I Heart Huckabees, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind comes in decidedly left-field of the usual Hollywood fare. Once again screenwriter Charlie Kaufman has created a distorted, hallucinatory world of paranoia and the bizarre in which his perpetually confused characters must somehow pick their way towards some semblance of sanity… usually unsuccessfully. Joel (Jim Carrey in not-irritating mode) is having a hard time coming to terms with the fact his kooky girlfriend Clementine (Kate Winslet) has had all memory of their relationship whipped from her mind. Depressed, he seeks to erase his own recollections of their vibrant but unconventional relationship. But matters don’t quite go to plan and past, present, reality and fantasy become increasingly difficult to distinguish in Joel’s anguished and addled brain. This is as near to Philip K Dick as you are likely to see at present and at the same time a melancholy romance for our times. Great stuff.

Zatoichi

ZatoichiNarrowly clipping De-Lovely at the post for the Year’s Best Tap-dancing Routine award comes Takeshi “Beat” Kitano’s Zatoichi – an updating of the popular Japanese film series. The premise is breathtakingly simple – Zatoichi, a blind wandering masseur arrives in town. People ignore him because he’s blind. Some bad guys appear and rough people up. Zatoichi then unleashes a blur of deadly skill with his mighty katana. Heads roll. Blood spurts. People get miffed. A final confrontation beckons. Kitano is wise enough not to deviate too wildly from genre conventions but at the same time makes the film his own with painstakingly composed shots, his renowned use of periods of introspection followed by bursts of extreme violence and an expert knowledge of the way sound and vision harmonise. The use of music is at once relational, breathtaking and witty as percussive tracks are mirrored in intricate agricultural work or a construction site becomes the Edo equivalent of an avant garde orchestra. A marvellous blend of intelligent art film and pulp entertainment, this is, remarkably, the only Kitano directed film to have had any impact on its national box office!

Kill Bill vol 2

Not the all out fantasy bloodbath of Vol 1, Vol 2 is included here more for completeness, although the training sections with Gordon Lau add a sense of Shaolin surrealism to proceedings. The Bride is back with only three names left on the list. And that’s it – two and a half hours of the kind of dialogue missing from Vol 1 fly past. For Tarantino aficionados this makes up for Vol 1 – for the rest of us it is an equally good but different approach. Still, it could do with another Crazy Fists massacre…

Gozu

It’s a yakuza flick. With a big killer monster born out of some kinky sex. It’s Miike Takashi. It MUST be good.

ZebramanZebraman

Spiderman? Batman? The Hulk? Nah. Zebraman. Schoolteacher by day, crimebustin’ Zebraman by night. It’s got giant intergalactic crayfish in it! It’s Miike Takashi. But for kids. It MUST be good.

Hints of Horror and Finally, Fantasy

Phantom of the Opera

Dramatic Chromatic! DAAAAAA. Da da da da DAAAAAAAAAA. Da da da da DAAAAAAAAAAA. He’s the phantom, a kind of Elephant Man-lite driven into the opera house catacombs, who falls in love with a chorus girl and demands the staging of his own pompous music… or else. Joel Schumacher brings plenty of visual flair and necessarily ostentatious showmanship to Gaston Leroux’s classic tale of dark romance, putting its moderate budget right where it counts – on the screen. However no amount of inventiveness and flair can compensate for a dire score that consists three songs and a load of random notes (and no, the “DAAAAAA. Da Da Da Da DAAAAAAAAAA. Da Da Da Da DAAAAAAAAAAA!” riff repeated as a “Look out! He’s behind you!” pantomime leitmotif does not count). Add to that a phantom who: a) isn’t very frightening and b) can’t sing and you have a pile of drivel.

Gothika

Mathieu (La Haine) Kassovitz gets a stab at the US market with a supernatural-horror-thriller starring Halle Berri. Berri is slammed up in an asylum for a brutal murder, the irony being that she used to be one of the psychiatric nurses dealing with patients’ recollections (or are they?) of satanic rape. Thing is with all the hallucinations, the communal showers and the appalling catering she can’t be sure she didn’t commit the crime. Gothika has a sense of preposterous logic that only a horror flick can get away with and has the pre-requisite pointless jumps and strobe punctuated nightmares. This got panned by everyone but is actually a reasonably shot piece of campfire drivel.

Catwoman

Taking on Garfield at the feline end of the box office we have Oscar-winning thesp Halle Berri in what could be the most staggeringly, “Halle-riously” inept superhero film of all time (and that’s saying something). Our frumpy fashion designer heroine is almost bumped off but revived by cat dribble and driven to licking her own butt in front of houseguests (or something…) before facing the real nasty cat Sharon Stone in a tedious showdown atop a glassy building. The resulting film is, frankly, an embarrassment with some of the most atrocious CGI ever committed to film. Treats its audience with an unprecedented degree of contempt.

Shaun of the Dead

Here we have a very British take on the zombie film – ‘Spaced with the living dead’ is perhaps the easiest pitch. Taking the premise that if the country were overtaken by shambling, incoherent braindeads we’d probably not notice until they bit us (quite literally), Simon Pegg’s constantly hung-over antihero gathers together his acquaintances and family in the only place they can feel truly safe… the pub. Full of in-gags for the zombie connoisseur (Dylan Moran’s evisceration is straight from Day of the Dead for example) but with plenty of humour directed at the British way of life, at last we have a national film that’s entertaining and doesn’t involve Victorian/Regency toffs, navel gazing gloom or Hugh Grant.

Hellboy

Cigar chewing red guy with sawn-off horns battles against tenticular demi-gods and clockwork Nazis. What’s not to like in Guillermo del Toro’s gleefully irreverent comic book horror? So maybe things can’t quite live up to the prologue – Nazi occultists raising demons from another universe in the Hebrides – but it’s still two hours of damned fine entertainment with wise-cracking Perlman at his best (outside the Jeunet films). Great action, a budget that’s all on screen and some genuinely disturbing bits amidst the carnage. Like Cthulu. For kids.

Open Water

Couple go out scuba diving. The boat that drops them off goes back to shore. They bob about and shout a lot. Cheap and tense, Open Water has a lot to offer – postage stamp plot, sudden scary bits, high concept.

Big Fish

Burton springs back to form after the mediocrity that was the ‘re-imagining’ of The Planet of the Apes but doesn’t quite hit the highs of, say, Edward Scissorhands (1990). Billy Crudup plays William Bloom who’s fed up with his dying dad Ed’s preposterous tales of rescuing conjoined singers in the Far East, being a human cannonball for love, detachable-eyed witches and a huge BFG called Karl. Perhaps most absurd is that Pop claims he met someone who looks like Steve Buscemi. Perpetually grinning Ewan McGregor plays the younger Ed Bloom in a story of a man who outlives his little town and goes out in search of love and adventure. Burton’s film is filled with the visual warmth and storybook logic that permeates his best work, the relative limitations of the budget (funded from Europe, fact fans) work the kind of tactile magic that total CGI can currently only dream of. So what if it’s basically a thinly related series of absurd vignettes – it still has more imagination than most other films this year.

Anacondas: The Hunt for the Blood Orchid

How could anyone top king turkey Anaconda (1997)? Jon Voight in a career-defining role. Eric Stoltz in a coma. J-Lo. Ice Cube. Breathtakingly stupid and a lesson in how not to continuity edit, Anaconda has achieved cult status due to tacky gore, a hilarious script and a staggering degree of laugh out loud ineptness. No film could possibly follow that. Certainly not one PG-13’d to get the kids in.

The Polar Express

Tom Hanks controls the Polar Express where he takes Tom Hanks on a magical journey. On the way Hanks meets with Tom Hanks and, among others, Tom Hanks. And some dancing waiters. Or something. A “storybook come to life”. Or something.

The Punisher

As judge, juror and executioner, Frank seeks to rid America of crime after the tragic loss of his family. A comic-book film with an 18 rating? Can’t remember seeing one of those since Raimi’s Darkman (1990).

The Forgotten

Almost forgot about this one. Julianne Moore can’t mourn the loss of her son because, according to everyone, he never existed. Interesting concept, but quite forgettable.

And the winners are:

Best Fantasy: The Incredibles

Best Fantasy: Zatoichi

Best Fantasy: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Best Fantasy: House of Flying Daggers

Another year has whizzed by and Sci-Fi is still pulling the punters in at the Box Office. Genre movies seem to have polarised this year – science fiction gets the big budgets and whizzy special effects, while horror films have tended to lurk in the darkness, veering towards the cheap, nastier and grimier end of the market. And sadly there were fewer cult specials or fantastic foreign films this year.

Year of the Matrix

Matrix Reloaded / The Matrix Revolutions

2003, we were reliably told by those happy souls at Warner Brothers, was The Year of The Matrix. Or the year of two Matrices, a pile of anime, some dodgy sunglasses and a bug-ridden (or was that meant to be ironic) computer game. Neo and Trinity are back for 4+ hours of slow-mo, gravity defying fisticuffs and embarrassing smooching. The residents of fashion conscious woolly-jumper clad Zion are still concerned about the imminent destruction of their frankly rather grim city by machines intent on using them like giant Duracell batteries. It’s up to messiah-in-waiting Neo, aided and abetted by various cohorts, to wrestle with existential cod-philosophy, cryptic mythical character names and multiple copies of panto-cackling MIB Agent Smith. Although the wire-work has become ubiquitous over the past few years The Matrix still packs a punch visually.

Underworld

Hey it’s got vampires and, get this, werewolves too. And they don’t like each other. Add some weapons, lots of gothic sewers and some fashionable industrial-metal music and entertainment must surely follow. It’s not art but it sounds pretty cool. Sadly the end results are cool in an entirely different way. Sub-Matrix slow-mo shrapnel vie with Goth-chic Crow-style sets and lighting. The results are messy, the effects average and even an occasionally easy-on–the-eye cast in tight leather can’t generate more than a modicum of enthusiasm. Half the time the editing is so sloppy you don’t know what’s going on, the other half of the time you wish you didn’t know as risible dialogue puts the final stake into the heart of this limpid effort. Grief, the vampires hardly even feed and half the time they just shoot at each other. They are supernatural creatures, let’s have some shape-shifting and razor sharp teeth not Uzi’s with “special ultra-violet, steeped in garlic and covered in hawthorn” bullets. Waste of time.

The Returner

With a list of influences as long as the arms of that stretchy guy from the Fantastic Four (more on that next year… maybe) The Returner is a pot pourri of science fiction and action clichés wrapped in a bundle of garish time-twisting effects and gratuitous violence. Hit-man (or Returner) Miyamoto (check: cool shades, check: trenchcoat, check: cool guns and slow-mo wirework) accidentally shoots a girl from the future and has two days to sort out this conundrum whilst falling in love and shooting lots of people. Cool, surprisingly poignant and just cracking good entertainment – what popcorn blockbusters are meant to be… minus the price tag.

Equilibrium

Trench-coats. Shades. Guns. Lots of guns. Slow-mo wire-work. Expressionless faces. Sound familiar? 2003, year of the Matrix rip-off, although this time blended with some Orwellian-lite society and a nod towards THX1138. And having a “society without emotion” does not “explain” the quality of the acting.

Heroes, Villains and Those Who Are Quite Undecided

Daredevil

He is Ben Affleck aka Daredevil – blind super-lawyer by day defending the weak and victimised against corporate criminals, blind leather-clad super-hero by night defending the weak and victimised against any sort of criminals. Worst of this dastardly bunch is Kingpin, the city crime, er, kingpin who probably bumped off Daredevil’s parents. Before you can say “angst-ridden multi-millionaire” we’re into a hotchpotch of superhero modus operandi – Crow-style city and bar fight, Spiderman-style swinging around, Batman-style OTT super-villains and misunderstood love-hate nemesis side character with spin-off potential. It’s all fine and dandy in a “Goth-chic constantly raining city” kind of a way and everyone wanders around with either po-faced severity or in panto-villain mould, which is pretty much expected. But therein lies the problem, there’s nothing wrong with Daredevil per se but nothing particularly noteworthy either. Diverting but no more.

Bruce Almighty

Jim Carrey, a newscaster whose dream job of lead anchorman is dashed by some upstart at his TV station, is having a not-good day. Being set upon by street punks, losing his job and crashing his car are only the start. Then it rains on him. Our hero blames the only entity he can – God – claiming he could do a better job. Unusually God, bearing an uncanny resemblance to Morgan Freeman, gives the disgruntled Bruce divine power and promptly nips off for a well-earned vacation. At first all is fine, he can metamorphose those pesky punks, make love like a sex machine and part soup in bowls with his celestial vigour. But naturally, as is inevitable, it’s not all rosy – omnipotence has its downside. So far so Groundhog Day with a different prime concept but, rather like this year’s other big Hollywood comedy Anger Management, once the concept has been gleaned the script plods along with clockwork tedium. And despite the 12 rating (one single use of the f-word, stop this madness please, that’s you Master and Commander too) there is nothing dangerous to edge the comedy. You could set your watch by it.

Hulk

Word of mouth caused Hulk to be the biggest week-to-week drop of any film this year. The general consensus was that the graphics were rubbish, the action unbelievable and it took far too long for anything to happen. Piffle. Perhaps people just aren’t used to films with scripts, characterisation and dramatic tension anymore. Emotional vacuum Bruce Banner (confusingly played by Eric Bana) wrestles with his angst and tries to come to terms with his psychologically scarred childhood. Naturally he’s a scientist and a shocking accident results in unusual side effects. These side effects, as fans of the popular TV show will no-doubt fondly recall, result in muscular gain, wrecked clothes and a tendency for skin tone to head towards the green side of the spectrum whenever he gets riled. Where the TV show adopted a low-tech approach to transformation, Ang Lee’s Hulk is all multi-million CGI, leaping from mountain peaks like an elephantine gazelle and hurling military hardware about like a kid with the wrong Tonka toy at Christmas. All top destructive stuff but the complaints came nonetheless – apparently the effects weren’t realistic. Excuse me? It’s about a giant green bloke who rips all his clothes off bar the ones covering his modesty and goes on city trashing benders – realism isn’t built into the concept. Hulk is all the better for stylising its mayhem, externalising its character’s psychological hang-ups and painting them in large expressionist brush-strokes. Ang Lee’s deliberate comic-book framing and editing, his expert use of character development and uncluttered focus have turned what could have been a by-the-numbers comic-book film into a pulp drama.

Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines

Wouldn’t you know it – the revolution against the machines is in trouble again? So is John Connor, again. So they send another machine back in time to protect him again. It still looks like Arnie and it’s still several models down from the “unstoppable beast of liquid metal blah blah blah” that those naughty robots have sent from the future. Again. Only this time the unstoppable mecha is a chick. With the largest green-lit budget of all time it would have been nice to have had a script in there, but you can’t have everything. This time round Johnny boy needs help; mommy’s dead and there’s no suitably empowered female to replace her. Instead we are, for the most part, in whimpering abused woman territory here except, of course, for the sexy robot woman because all women who look like that are clearly evil. And thus 100 minutes of boys jumping from exploding stuff unravels in a mildly diverting manner while Arnie delivers a “side-splitting” collection of “hilarious” quips. The film is rarely dull but ultimately you’re left with a huge portion of “what’s the point?” with a side order “been there done that”. And as for the 12 rating, what did they think they were doing?

Lara Croft Tomb Raider: Cradle of Life

One time cinematographer Jan de Bont takes the reigns for Lara’s second big screen outing. Angelina Jolie’s Dunlop lips and pneumatic add-ons appear, much like her digital counterpart, to be growing substantially between sequels. Perhaps if there is a Part 3 someone should coax Russ Meyer out of retirement. This time Lara’s quest is to thwart more ancient machinery shenanigans being planned by a mad despot. This time the crucial “bad idea” is to introduce an ex-lover and full time scallywag into the equation to help/hinder her in her globetrotting excursions. This undermines the whole “one woman defeating a world of scurrilous men” concept that made the first one so enjoyable. That said the film is dynamic and pretty to look at. The stunts are impressive and tactile, something many of this year’s blockbusters have failed to address – if you have a car chase, film it using cars (that’s you 2Fast2Furious2Tedious2Mucheffort).

Ultimately though, Tomb Raider doesn’t quite make the grade for all its side-saddled gunplay and tourist-friendly Britishness, because of haphazard pacing and lazy peripheral characters.

The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen

If the much publicised rifts are to be believed, this should perhaps have been titled The Beleaguered Film of Not-So-Gentlemen as Stephen “treat them like cattle” Norrington and Sean “I’m an A-list star, young whippersnapper” Connery slugged out the artistic differences. In the end fans of the comic are likely to be perturbed by the Americanisation of the League (box office, you understand) and everyone else by the general pace. It certainly looks the part, dark and fantastical, with the Nautilus in particular being a triumph of design over practicality, but this is very much a film that foregrounds the design over the substance and revels in its eccentric anachronisms. All very nice but the character interaction is all based upon event rather than any tangible emotion. That said there’s always something to look at, the snow sequences are marvellous, the action suitably grandiose and there’s even time for Nemo to let rip with some wacky martial arts. Somehow you can’t imagine James Mason doing that…

X-Men 2

Apparently they are still not what they seem as the plot opens out from what, in part one, was effectively a 100 minute prologue. X2 (as it apparently likes to be called, quicker to text probably) opens with a tight combination of suspense, action and intrigue as an audacious assassination is perpetrated by a mutant that can seemingly teleport at will, leaving just a whiff of smoke in its gargoyle looking wake. But naturally things are not as simple as they first seem. Rather like the Nazi connections in part one (which also strain to Singer’s Apt Pupil) X2 doesn’t hide from “big issues”, acting as a metaphor for society’s treatment of race and disability and, more importantly, the ways that society’s underdogs react to their predicament. Magneto is not so much irreconcilably evil as reacting against a society that persecutes him; fellow Shakespearean heavyweight Dr X(avier) prefers a softer approach. Ultimately the real evil is humanity and politics, grabbing for power while honest mutants struggle to understand their roots and their place in a world that doesn’t trust them. Overall the combination of action and emotion with a script that has at least some intelligence (in other years one might veer towards the expression “pretentious” but 2003 was “Year of the Matrix” so we’ll let it pass) is something to welcome in the vacuum that is the modern tentpole flick.

The Core

The Core suffers from a number of fundamental flaws. Firstly a film full of woolly democratic-republicanism was never going to win the “hearts and minds” of a deeply polarised public just prior to a war starting, more a point of bad timing. Secondly the film took itself far too seriously and advertised itself as (you may want to sit down at this point) Science Faction (geddit?). When boiled down you have Armageddon inside the Earth with a cast of highbrow Hollywood actors hamming it up in a ship, while every twenty odd minutes some form of groovy new catastrophe hits a major world landmark. Get the oddball crew together, spot the flawed but decent character who’s inevitably going to redeem themselves by selfless self-sacrifice, then add a touch of Seventies disaster flick and Fantastic Voyage. So there’s more cod than the North Sea (but then that’s not too tricky) but at least for once the heroes rely on brainpower, not macho posturing. The opening is a real oddball puzzler with people just dropping dead and a The Birds rip-off in Trafalgar Square sets things up nicely. It becomes formulaic and “deadly grim 50’s scientist” serious after that but at least they tried. Hey, the French guy kicks the corporate Coca Cola machine too.

Adaptation

Films about writers, particularly Hollywood screenplay writers, have long been a small but defined genre-ette. In A Lonely Place, Lost Weekend, Paris When It Sizzles the formula is simple – writer, normally alcoholic, struggles in vain to realise his (always his) former potential whilst wallowing in self-doubt and misery, normally uplifted by female level-headed intervention at some point. It’s easy to see why – these are written by Hollywood screenwriters struggling in vain to realise… etc etc. Charlie Kaufman has, however, gone one step further by putting himself into the script as the central character with a (fictional) brother, both of whom are writing very different screenplays. Charlie’s trouble is that he is basically adapting an inadaptable book about illegal orchid hunting. The film is about the book, adapting it and not adapting it, and about how reality and Hollywood clash. Whether this is clever or not is hardly relevant because it feels clever. Cage gives flawless performances as the two brothers and the self-references to Jonze/Kaufman’s previous film Being John Malkovich is a nice touch.

Solaris

Bizarrely, despite the brief impressive effects shots with their oh-so-processor-heavy volumetric renderings, Solaris is basically a chamber piece, with four people in a drawing room (albeit one millions of miles from home) where people sit and ponder as though in a Chekov play, and loads of weird stuff happens, involving spirits that seem to be re-creating important individuals in their past lives. And, wouldn’t you know it, the guy sent to investigate these spooky-but-oh-so-existential psychological projections is none other than, you’ve guessed it, a Chris Kelvin, who’s lost his wife and is going a bit loopy. Now Tarkovsky fans may bemoan the lack of a ten-minute single take around a ring road or the savage bisecting of the three hour plus running time, but this is a big studio production with a big star that dares to be intelligent, thoughtful and languidly paced. It’s (please sit down) a real science fiction film. From Hollywood no less! You should be rejoicing. Rated 12A for one use of the ‘f’ word and George Clooney’s bottom.

Charlies Angels: Full Throttle

Apparently the general consensus was “silly”. It’s Charlie’s Angels you know! More high-octane gratuitously over-the-top action with totally unnecessary glamour shots and innuendo assault the eyes, while the ears take a pounding from the pick ‘n’ mix MTV soundtrack. That hair-sniffing fruitcake from part one returns, although sadly Bill Murray has been replaced by the decidedly inferior Bernie Mac. But who cares as the bubbles get unleashed, bombs explode, wirework kung-fu goes even more slow-mo and there are really stupid motorcycle fights to contend with? Somewhere in all this there’s a plot but frankly we’ve forgotten it. Not as riotously fun as the first film but still a big bundle of low attention span eye candy that never gets bogged down in real world physics. As predicted last year the trend for women who fight was just that and any hope of equalling Hong Kong’s impressive range of female fighting flicks has drained away by Charlie’s Angels lack of box office clout. C’est la vie.

Shanghai Knights/Medallion/Tuxedo – A Jackie Chanathon

Shanghai Noon remains Jackie Chan’s only half decent Hollywood outing, mainly due to the interaction with Owen Wilson and a discernable Hong Kong feel to the fight scenes. Second time round and things ain’t so rosy. Transported to a bizarre alternative Victorian London complete with characters both fictional and real, the bungling buddies are out to save Wang’s sister and inadvertently prevent the devious massacre of the royal lineage to appoint that bloke off Queer As Folk as king. All very alternative history but B-movie acting, an incomplete script and some fairly lacklustre fight scenes take its toll. What’s more the chemistry between the two leads in part one has evaporated. What’s more bizarre is that as bad as this is it is still head and shoulders above Jackie’s other two outings this year. The hugely delayed Medallion (originally Highbinders) is a laughably inept fantasy outing with ludicrous wirework and ropey effects. Meanwhile The Tuxedo is one of the most painfully embarrassing pieces of celluloid tosh ever to grace a cinema as Chan becomes a spy by donning a high-tech James Bond gadget strewn dinner jacket. It’s virtually impossible to describe the sheer awfulness of this loathsomely unfunny venture into science fiction.

The Horrors, The Horrors

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (remake)

A slight change in the title spelling and a bit of trendy “retro seventies” styling can’t disguise that this is a pointless exercise on par with the van Sant remake of Psycho. Here the gore is laid on to “hard-R” levels because the kids need viscera (apparently) without realising the whole point of seventies horror cinema was its intense inescapability. The original film was banned here for two decades not because of gore, but because there was nothing that could be cut without intrinsically ruining the film. First time round you covered your eyes when you thought you saw the hook go in; here you see the hook, the shock’s over in a blink and you’re left with an average slasher at best, a blasphemous travesty at worse.

Wrong Turn

What with The Texas Chainsaw Massacre remake trying to bring back the mid-Seventies horror (unsuccessfully) Wrong Turn looks, oh, a few years later to the time of hideous mutants gorily dispatching their nubile victims in some backwater inbred part of the Southern states. Here Deliverance meets TCM meets The Burning as Eliza Dushku (you know, Faith from Buffy) and her cohorts are hunted like animals by skilled, but oh-so-ugly, crossbow wielding cannibals. Gasp as bits are hacked off, shudder as they have to stay quiet as their friend is being carved up on the table and marvel at the number of sudden jumps that you knew were coming but made you jump anyway. Lowest common denominator film-making but done with a sense of gleeful nastiness and gratuitous early-80’s teen nudity all too often absent from modern horror.

Cabin Fever

The Fangoria revival, where the make-up crew are more important than the cast, is well and truly upon us. A group of youngsters go for a holiday in a remote cabin in the country (can you see where this is going yet?). There they set light to a diseased raving nutter who manages to slosh around vast quantities of puss-laden blood over the car, the house and them before running off and, unbeknownst to them, contaminating the water supply. Soon the youngsters start falling foul of a hideous flesh eating disease, have to contend with the world’s most insane cop and a community of, yep you’ve guessed it, creepy yokels. A love poem to exploitation slashers, Cabin Fever is a delirious, unrepentant, gross horror nasty that knows its sources and adds some touches of its own. However the BBFC must have nodded off for about half of the film because how this ever got a 15 rating is anyone’s guess.

Freddy vs Jason

Take one inexplicably successful 80’s to 90’s horror pop icon who’s never been in a half decent movie (except that 3-D bit with the bloke’s eye in Part 3). Add one inexplicably successful 80’s to 90’s horror pop icon who’s only stared in one decent film (if you don’t count New Nightmare). So that’s about 15 films between them. Not great odds, especially as crossovers are notoriously contrived and rather dodgy. And yes Freddy vs Jason is convoluted, base and shamelessly exploitative. But it’s also a Ronnie Yu film, he who managed to turn the Child Play franchise from sub-Freddy tedium to the deliriously ludicrous heights of Bride of Chucky. And he doesn’t disappoint here. There are enough bizarre dreams, blood gushing walls, OTT wirework fights (might be de rigueur in Hollywood now but remember Yu was doing Bride With The White Hair years ago), needless heavy petting, massacres, twists, deaths and corpses to fill a trilogy. Yu knows he’s making popcorn fodder pure and simple, this is flamboyant but unpretentious film-making, albeit one with a deeply pongy screenplay…

The Ring remake

Why oh why oh why? That’s the question when faced with a US remake of yet another non-American language film, in this case the “so recent the original had barely finished shooting” Ringu. It could never have lived up to its slow-burning creepy low budget predecessor. To be fair it is effective in some places and nowhere near the unmitigated disaster it so clearly should have been. It succeeds with the newly added material that has nothing to do with the original, where it falls badly is in the recreations of Ringu’s key scenes; all the gore and make-up effects in the world can’t match the frisson of the original.

Dark Water

The thing about haunted houses is that it’s usually obvious that you shouldn’t go inside one. They look big, gothic and generally have creepy butlers so are a bit of a giveaway really. But change the setting to a block of flats and suddenly it doesn’t seem so implausible. Yoshimi is the woman in terror trapped in her own home, haunted by fleeting Don’t Look Now style visions of figures in the rain. And it even rains inside, dark mucky water that envelops the sound and drips with creepy intensity constantly keeping the viewer on edge. To add to her phantasmagorical problems she’s also trying to maintain custody of her daughter, protecting her from… well that would be telling. Hideo Nakata stirs up the creeps yet again in another understated, slow-burn high shiver masterpiece. Await the “pointless Hollywood remake”™ with the same dread as all of his other (superior) films.

Fantastic Fantasy

Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl

Aye, aye, me hearties. Shiver me timbers. Ooh arrr yer scurvy dog etc. The box office disasters of huge budgeted flicks such as Pirates (Polanski) and Cutthroat Island (Harlin) had put the cutlass well into the dead man’s chest. Until now. Mercifully the pirate film is back with a vengeance and a yo ho ho. Prepare to have your buckle well and truly swashed for over two hours of zombie ghost ships and sword fights. The scripting is great, the undead angle inspired, the action is old school meets new and the whole thing zips along at a tidy pace. Johnny Depp shows his mettle with this year’s most barnstorming performance but Geoffrey Rush holds his own in true eye-rolling fashion. Gore (the bloke behind the pointless remake of Ringu) Verbinski has come up with the summer’s best popcorn flick by a mile. Based (improbably) on a fairly lacklustre Disney World ride we await with eagerness the inevitable spin off It’s A Small World. With multinational zombie children of course…

Holes

Prison dramas are nothing new. You know the genre conventions– someone is shoved in the slammer for a crime they didn’t commit and the new fish has to cope with the prison hierarchy, the sadistic guards, the “food rations knocked to the floor” and the regular punishments. And normally there’s forced labour too. All these elements are present and correct but with a twist because this time it’s a kid cast into a hard-labour camp for juvenile delinquents on trumped-up charges pertaining to the stealing of some charity training shoes. And work he does, digging huge holes in the desert heat day after day, watched over by the guard under the command of the mysterious and cruel warden. Naturally there is a nefarious plan afoot and some poisonous lizards to contend with. With a fragmentary structure that slowly reveals a superbly constructed plot, excellent scripting and uniformly consistent acting this is unpatronising, thoroughly engaging and dramatic. An intelligent film for families? John Voight acting? Whatever next…

Snake of June

It’s Shinya Tsukamoto. It’s cheap, black and white and has a central love triangle with two men and a woman, one of the men played by Tsukamoto-san himself, who also edits, writes, shoots most of it and probably makes the lunchtime ramen for everyone too. Here the central character is eventually empowered by initially humiliating erotic blackmail games involving highly dubious technology in an outpouring of orgone energy that threatens to disrupt the whole fabric of the film. Kinky, controversial, underground cinema at its best but not recommended for those of a delicate disposition or a tired desire for films that equate cutting edge with the size of the budget rather than the quality of the imagination. This year’s “must see” cult film…

Finding Nemo

There he is! Film over. Nope, seriously Pixar’s latest delight is a delightful as you’d expect although unfunny clownfish Marlin’s constant self-loathing can grate a bit, as can the repetition and the repetition. The usual collection of easy to identify characters with bizarre traits, microsecond perfect comedy timing and fishy gags make this a true family film in the best sense of the term. Surfer turtles, sharks trying to beat their carnivorous habits in self-help groups and a tankful of idiosyncratic sea-life populate all corners of the film. Marlin’s son Nemo has been fishnapped by an Australian dentist and it’s down to the widower (he lost his wife and his other few hundred kids in a brutal pre-credit attack) to get him back, aided by Dory, a fish with a memory as long as a… sorry what was I on about?

The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King

So Peter Jackson finally reaches the final hurdle, galloping past the three hour mark and annoying Christopher Lee in the process. So is it any cop? Well it’s spectacular to be sure, those dollars have been well spent (T3 looks crap: $180million=100mins LOTR looks fab: $300million=600mins you, as people with different usage of the English language might well hypothetically say, do the math) and Jackson sure knows how to fill the screen. However leaving Lee out was a BIG mistake. Ultimately the threat of hoards of horrible beasties is pitched right and the scale and detail of the battles is very succinct, but there is no real adversary that the audience can relate to. It’s all too abstract, just some flame-eyed wotsit on a stick and some blokes so scary they are hidden by big cloaks. The running time fair whizzes by but there is a feeling that perhaps the Star Wars style ceremony should have concluded proceedings, leaving those of us who imagined the Shire being ravaged by old Sharky still a distinct possibility. They could even have stretched out a straight-to-video coda for that. Still we’re nit-picking, because ultimately this is a tremendous achievement.

Dracula: Pages From A Virgin’s Diary

Imagine pitching this one to Jerry Bruckheimer: “Jerry, you’re gonna love this – it’s Dracula, you know that old book, done properly but like, get this, entirely through the magic of ballet. That’s right, ballet Jerry, and what’s more we’ll set it to the music of that foot-tapping master Gustav Mahler. And film it like a silent film with super 8 stuff and everything! Jerry? Jerry?”

Insane Canadian genius Guy Maddin’s intense reworking of Bram Stoker’s novel is based upon the production by the Royal Winnipeg Ballet. Before you turn away this is one of the films of the year, a dizzying blur of fast editing, stylised sets and black and white photography emphasised with crimson-tinted blood. Quite simply stunning Maddin has transformed the, let’s be frank here, mad concept into a rare beast – a rollercoaster of an art film. Exquisite cinematography mix with distinctive use of sound (you can hear footsteps when they are relevant but all the characters speak through title cards) to make, and we don’t use this term lightly, a unique cinematic experience. Another classic from one of the world’s most distinctive auteurs.

Peter Pan

Wiping forever (hurrah!) the rancid memory of that Spielberg atrocity Hook comes PJ Hogan’s take on the Peter Pan story complete with curious Al-Fayed involvement. So what do you get? You get a pile of visually arresting special effects, wire-work and sword-play that goes together to make a coherent and internally consistent film. Shock. This is what effects are meant to do – take you to another place, one that’s NOT like the real world at all. We are in CGI Mary Poppins land here, albeit with a darker edge, big fluffy clouds you can bounce on, whole years mirrored in a day and fjords of fairies (fjord, of course, being the collective noun for fairies) sprinkling glittery magic dust on the land. Fabulous. Tinkerbell is morally confused. Peter is suitably hedonistic, wondrous and a little bit creepy. Richard Briers is an excellent Smee and Hook is a perfect combination of evil, dastardly and conniving. Wendy’s turn “to the dark side “ (so to speak) is both believable and frightening. Visually gorgeous, imaginative, exciting, emotional, literate and fun. No modern day re-imaginings. No Robin Williams. Just great entertainment with a heart and soul. And, in case you’re asking, we DO believe in fairies. Yep, we do. We do.

Freaky Friday

Not only a remake but also a pop-friendly reinterpretation of the classic Cartesian mind-body problem Freaky Friday scores many plus points for its deconstruction of modern society and the rocky relationships between children and parents. Jamie Lee Curtis is a popular author and psychoanalyst who becomes swapped in mental form with her hard rocking grungy-but-with-a-heart-in-there-somewhere teenage daughter. This allows for that rarity in family films – one in which the kids can rightly bemoan their parents’ behaviour and vice versa. That it manages to debase the two scourges of modern society – mobile phones and psychoanalysis (daughter dispenses with all the analytical crap and just tells is like it is) is merely the icing on the cake. Good solid fun, it’s not the greatest thing since unsliced bread but is a cracking romp nonetheless.

Spy Kids 3-D: Game Over

Three evil Sylvester Stallones are responsible for an insidious plan to rule the world through an interactive immersive video game platform that is, apparently, impossible to win. Yuni must take on the game and reclaim his sister’s life! Think eXistenZ but like, you know, for kids. Oh and you get cool but headache inducing 3-D glasses to don at appropriate moments (in fact most of the film). Not up to Rodriguez’s first Spy Kids films but a lot of fun nonetheless, with relentless action and constantly impatient but coherent camerawork (Rodriguez, like Tsukamoto below, edits his films, shoots, does the music etc – he just has more money). It’s fast, short, frothy and fun and you can play the “spot the cameo” game too. Also from Rodriguez this year the bizarre Once Upon A Time In Mexico, a distillation of Mexican spaghetti westerns with some delirious imagery and “man of the year” Johnny Depp in fine form.

Kill Bill

The Bride has been put in a coma for six years following a massacre on her wedding day that left everyone dead, apart from her. Naturally she’s not impressed with events but rather than seek therapy she takes matters into her own hands. You see Bride was once part of an elite gang called the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad, so she’s not someone to cross lightly. Problem is the very people who instigated the hit are her ex-comrades and their boss Bill. Now Bride has made a list of who’s been naughty and she’s working her way towards killing Bill. First let’s get this straight: there is one big, big problem with Kill Bill – it’s only half a film. That said it is a very good half, packed to the gills with cool stuff and more exploitation classic references than you can shake a bo stick at. For those of us weaned on Shaw Brothers films, Baby Cart, Jack Hill, Larry Cohen and Kinji Fukusaku this is like the cinematic “best of” cover-version of your favourite gleefully unsound films. There’s an anime section, silhouette scenes and lots and lots of cherry coloured blood gushing in torrents over the beautiful oriental sets. It’s got Sonny Chiba in it! Its got snow, zen gardens and The 5678’s. It’s got the music from Battles Without Honour Or Humanity in it. Someday all entertainment will be made like this, only three hours long.

Timeline

Oh my God! It’s Billy “Oh my God!” Connolly. Saying “Oh my God!” A lot. Exploiting (as you do) a wormhole to 14^th century France, what better bunch of people to check out the retro-warfare action on offer than a troupe of military grunts and an ark of fresh-faced archaeologists? A “fax machine for objects” has the side effect of journeying people to the aforementioned French countryside but, wouldn’t you know it, travelling too many times makes your arteries go skew-whiff. Billy “Oh my God!” Connolly has got himself stuck in the past and it’s up to his son and a variety of companions to get him back. Cue wildly fluctuating accents, the entire cast insisting at every turn that they are not English and a case of Star Trek “spot the red shirt” that pretty much decides who gets it when from word go. By no means a total disaster, this is cod-strewn light entertainment with most of the action taking place in-camera rather than in-computer and is the better for it. Oh my God!

Treasure Planet

This updating of Treasure Island in a sci-fi setting is a jolly good ride marred only by irritating Ben the robot, but mercifully his unfunny mannerisms don’t see the light of day until two thirds of the way through. Inventive, spectacular and fun it was, of course, a flop. Like Atlantis.

And the winners are (paradiddle pur-lease):

Best Horror: Dark Water

Best SF: Solaris

Best Fantasy: Holes

Special Yo Ho Ho Award for Most Enjoyable Romp: Pirates of the Caribbean

Smug Award for Best Film Last Year: Spirited Away

With cinema audiences reaching their highest levels since the 1950s, sf seems to be as popular as ever. And why not, Hollywood budgets are larger than ever and the technology to put fantastic images on the screen is improving all the time. This year has seen many combinations of genres – the sf-fantasy, sf-horror, fantastic horror, horrific sf – it’s hard to place many of these films into neat categories, so we’ve arranged them alphabetically, just to be awkward.

Avalon

Here’s a curio – a Japanese live-action anime filmed in Polish. An Illegal VR game produces rich rewards or possible insanity to its players as they complete mission levels for fame and fortune. The result is quite unlike anything you’ve ever seen – breathtaking but deliberately false CG, retro equipment and cyberpunk grime rub shoulders with existential ponderings, politics and mythological intrigue. The Eastern European setting is no mere gimmick (xXx, Rollerball etc take note) as Oshii has steeped his film in the worlds of Kieslowski and Svankmajer (for the most part the film is desaturated almost to the point of being monochrome)… as well as throwing his anime book of tricks in the ring with gleeful abandon. Hard to see where this film was aimed (other than us!) or how it was supposed to make any money, but made it was – if only there was more sf that

Blade II

Oh the omens were good. Blade was one of the more successful of recent comic adaptations – good gory vampire fun. Guillermo del Toro made the excellent vampire film Cronos. Mix the two, then add shedloads more violence, stunts and action. Remove the need for a time-wasting story (you got that in part one), bring in Donnie Yen for the fight choreography and voila! A surprisingly pale shadow of its former self. Nice shots of disintegrating vampires in the dawn can’t disguise a plot that has a high initial concept but no teeth.

Clockstoppers

Hey, your kooky dad’s gone and got a super watch that makes time stop when you want (or at least go very slowly) so you can do loads of neat stuff to impress the hot new chick in town. But sinister forces want their timepiece back for weapons research and dad goes missing, presumed incarcerated in a secret government test laboratory. What could have been a good fun adventure sadly falls for the “seen the trailer, seen the film” problem (see Men In Black II) and then proceeds to fail to ignite anything outside of these moments.

Dog Soldiers

How this one got a 15 certificate is anyone’s guess but Dog Soldiers is a cracking little British horror film filled with the usual clichés of the genre, but without the familiar “knowing” teenage commentators. Mercifully the earnest tone of the characters makes the black humour work particularly well amongst the jumps and occasionally graphic gore. The story concerns an army training patrol who seek sanctuary in a lone farmhouse when it becomes clear that something or somethings are baying for their blood. A jolly decent British werewolf film.

Donnie Darko

Donnie is a troubled lad with a history of psychological problems that require some serious medication. It doesn’t help that he is urged to commit sociopathic acts by a grisly six foot bipedal rabbit. Richard Kelly’s astonishing and assured debut, Donnie Darko plays its American independent card with pride – surreal, laid back and occasionally shocking. Throw in a geriatric author whose Philosophy of Time Travel helps to explain the simple but effective CGI temporal tentacles that emerge from characters at key points, as events escalate to an apocalyptic Halloween, you have one of the year’s more strangely compelling films.

Eight Legged Freaks

In true B-movie fashion a barrel of bubbly green toxic waste finds its way into the local eco-system resulting in a gigantic increase in the size and viciousness of a plethora of spider species. Knowingly crossing its love of 50’s cold war sci-fi morality tales with a pile of CGI, Eight Legged Freaks does its best to entertain and, for the most part, it succeeds. Dumb fun which never takes itself seriously, it sadly falls apart on the tension front – there is never any surprise as to who is going to make it.

The Eye

Excellent creepy Korean/Hong Kong horror with top-notch visuals and incredible use of sound. Our heroine has received an eye transplant and is struggling to see through the blur of her new eyes. What she seems to see along with the real world are the dying, being led away by a murky black figure. Yes the links to Hands of Orlac and The Sixth Sense may be obvious, but the use of stylistic camerawork and a gradual increase in the unease, including a line of revelationary dialogue that’ll leave you cold, make this a real winner. Don’t miss.

E.T. – The Extra Terrestrial 20th Anniversary Re-issue Special Edition

One of the most loved, cherished and successful films of all time. Adored by critics and audiences alike for its wonder and enchantment. And who are we to argue? Well we will: E.T. is not only saccharine, manipulative and mean-spirited, but is over-long, plastic and lifeless. E.T. epitomises the cynical corporate manufacturing of false emotion to produce knee jerk audience reactions. It couldn’t get worse than this. Or could it? In another piece of revisionism Spielberg has actually managed to make his ghastly film even more hideous. Now, the FBI don’t carry guns (in America!), their weapons CGI’d into safe walkie-talkies to show that they are caring, sharing authorities. Nasty, disgraceful film-making packaged for a stupid, ignorant market. And if you disagree we’ll see you outside…

From Hell

So it wasn’t like the comic then. Get a life! Wake up! It couldn’t be like the comic. It’s a film. It ain’t twenty odd hours long. Shhheeesh. Visually one of the most sumptuous films of the year and, for a Hollywood blockbuster, it even had a strong political subtext. In bringing Jack the Ripper to the screen the Hughes Brothers have done a remarkable job in adapting Alan Moore’s multi-layered masterpiece, pushing the source material as far as it could, without resorting to being either gratuitous or coy (a very fine balance). Depp is as great as ever, his character’s strong deviation from the minor role in the comic helps bind the film together and provides a context for the viewer. Mix with some stunning cinematography and exceptional set pieces and you have one of the year’s most under-rated blockbusters.

The Happiness of the Katakuris

Miike Takashi. Not a man to shirk controversy but he’s managed to confound everyone with this 116 minutes of barking utter madness. Our hero family have a guest-house in the mountains but hardly anyone shows up and when they do they have an unfortunate tendency to pop their clogs. To prevent it affecting the business the family simply bury the corpses. But there’s a new highway being built soon… right where those unfortunate ex-guests are interred. And everyone keeps bursting into song because this is a musical, with all the (von) trappings of families skipping across the mountains or cutting to kitsch studio shoots. That’s when they don’t all suddenly turn into animated plasticine figures for the dangerous scenes or gross ones. The most unusual (and funny) fantasy horror of this year, by a long way.

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

Chris Columbus once again plays it safe in the second Harry Potter film – slavishly following Rowling’s book to the point of cinematic incoherence. That said it looks the part, most of the acting is spot on (Branagh is great) and it certainly doesn’t balk on the scary stuff either. Harry’s second year at Hogwart’s is plagued by the opening of the mysterious Chamber of Secrets and the worrying trend for fellow classmates to become paralysed. Incidents come thick and fast and the tone gets significantly darker as the film progresses. Sadly this pace leaves little room for character development or all-important fleshing out of details. Think of it as a talking illustration.

Jason X

Pitch: Friday the Thirteenth’s Jason comes back again. In the future. In space. And kills people. Again. And there’s CGI blood. How novel. And it was toned to get an R rating. Stop this madness. We’ve had twenty years of this rubbish.

Jeepers Creepers

What’s this? Another American teen horror? But wait! No post-post-post-modern reflexivity. No “shagging = death”, “drugs = bad” clichés. Just creepy supernatural chills mixed with a road movie. It’s filmed with enough confidence not to just pump up the body/gore quota, yet it remains nasty when needed. By no means essential viewing, at least it tries to break the current teen-scream mould. Bonus point for keeping the soundtrack down.

Lilo and Stitch

Pretty much ignoring the last ten years of Disney animation that has pushed the studio headlong into CGI spectacle to keep the kids watching, Lilo and Stitch looks to more traditional methods to tell its story (with the added advantage of being cheaper). Little Hawaiian Lilo befriends the irascible and occasionally destructive extra-terrestrial Stitch. Madcap adventures occur, mercifully far from ET territory and saccharine sentimentalities. The result is one of Disney’s most enjoyable flicks of the last decade.

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers

Peter Jackson returns with advertising that tells you Gandalf didn’t snuff it in part one and a much publicised CGI Gollum. Mercifully the script plays some liberties with the text in the name of cinematic coherence (Potter, are you listening?) but Jackson’s real gift lies in making crystal clear sense of the book’s numerous battles and political shenanigans in a way that doesn’t stop everything stone dead in its tracks (Mr Lucas step forward). The canvas is wide, the battles epic, violent and mythical – as they should be. The sense of dread and impending doom are not toned down, this is the Empire Strikes Back of the trilogy, with no real resolution. This is perhaps its fault – while The Two Towers equals (and in the battle at Helm’s Deep surpasses) its predecessor in terms of spectacle, it cannot hope to maintain the same attachment to its central characters. Like the hobbits, we are shown the bigger world from that of the isolated microcosmic Shire as the implications of the quest (and its possible failure) become more apparent in relationship to the whole of Middle Earth. And in this turmoil creepy Elrond hustles his aristocratic folk off somewhere safe (bar a couple of token lower class archers) leaving everyone else to face the music of the lidless eye, the bands of marauding orcs and the treacherous wizards. This is a nice touch in two ways – at once it politicises the struggle between bourgeois and proletariat in a way that subverts Tolkien’s slant on the matter but it also allows the romance between Aragorn and Eowyn to be more tragically romantic. Jackson attempts to flesh out (everso slightly) at least one female character from Tolkien’s phallocentric tome. This is assured, commercial film-making at its very best – from the Ents storming Isengard to the dead in the marshes; anyone expecting much better might as well never enter a cinema again.

Men In Black II

Here come the men in black (again) they won’t let you remember (you wish). When MIB hit the scene it was gloppy fun, family entertainment with a good line in attitude and great one-liners. Most of all it was fresh. Second time around and the promise is bigger budget, bigger effects and bigger paycheques all around. It also seems so suddenly stale and laboured as the same plot of part one is recycled for our scant amusement. Watchable but no more, MIBII feels worse than it probably is because it is so relentlessly average and safe as a franchise product – exactly what the first film tried so hard to avoid. C’est la vie.

Minority Report

Here’s something to fill you with dread – Spielberg directs Cruise in a PK Dick adaptation. Shudder. Fortunately though (and against all expectations) Minority Report proves to be an enjoyable and intelligent sf film which actually requires its audience to think once in a while. And despite the trailer-friendly special effects, this isn’t a film that feels the need to wallow in effects for the sake of them – indeed there’s probably more big buck effects potential in Dick’s original. It’s not perfect and they’ve simplified some elements of the story to allow a human-precog interaction absent from Dick’s work, but overall the modern-retro future designs combined with the confidence to play it with subtlety works.

The Mothman Prophecies

Richard Gere ditches the smoothy persona and becomes an angst-ridden journo on the trail of the Mothman in Mark Pellington’s understated supernatural thriller, based on the “True Story” yawn-a-page by John A Keel. Influences include Lynch’s Lost Highway, The Sixth Sense and Nakata’s The Ring, and full marks should be given to lack of sensationalism within the material. Wisely ditching the tone and most of the extraneous conspiratorial UFO-logy of the book, Pellington has created a mature, if imperfect, film. If anyone condescendingly informs you that books are always better than the film, you need do no more than to point them in the direction of The Mothman Prophecies and be quietly smug.

My Little Eye

Heralded by some commentators as the future of British horror, My Little Eye can’t fail to disappoint. Another Big Brother-style “teens in a house” horror, the conceit is all very well but it leads nowhere and there is far too little tension. It may deserve top marks for using the limitations of the budget to the film’s advantage, but the mise-en-scene is inconsistent and ultimately, if you want scares, you’d be far better off watching Dog Soldiers.

The One

Across the various quantum dimensions, variations of Jet Li are being bumped off. The result? The remaining ones become increasingly powerful until only two remain. Who will become the One? As Li’s Hong Kong work begins to seem like a thing of the past, his latest Hollywood offering injects trendy CGI into the deliberately over-the-top wirework that has become his trademark. Yes, The One is unashamedly trash and treats its ludicrous premise with more respect than it probably deserves, but it never outlives its welcome. The two Li’s (one good, one bad – you got that?) slug it out by hitting each other with motorbikes and other heavy metal machinery while leaping about like possessed frogs. Those expecting depth and plausibility would do well to avoid this one, but Wong’s hysterical direction makes this a daft but enjoyable romp. Best served with a few beers.

The Powerpuff Girls

Blossom, Buttercup and Bubbles – sugar, spice, all things nice and secret ingredient Chemical X. So post-modern it hurts, the combination of knowing references, vaguely hip music, bodily fluids gags and 50’s B-movie trappings merge with 60’s US and anime influenced designs to make something you either “get” or don’t. Frenetic and lurid as ever, the trio’s occasionally impetuous over-exuberance is as infectious as it is fun. Suitable for small kids and open-minded adults only – boring people can suffer under Blossom’s withering laser-eyed stare.

Queen of the Damned

A belated (and far more low key) sequel to Interview With A Vampire sees a new Lestat and a safer 15 rating for the Anne Rice franchise. Set in the amusingly unscary goth-rock world the stakes (so to speak) are raised (so to speak) when the Queen of the Damned is reincarnated to decimate the earth, burn everyone’s souls and do all that other gloomy nihilistic despair stuff. The titular queen electrifies the screen with her vicious, wordless presence, but for the most-part this is designer fluff for morbid teens with a soon-to-be-dated contemporary soundtrack.

Reign of Fire

Dragon films are to fantasy fans what cannibal films are to horror fans – you always have high hopes but somehow it never quite works. Enter Reign of Fire. Christian Bale is present at the release of an ancient dragon from deep beneath London. Fast forward. Dragons have decimated the world and the few survivors have to decide whether to hide or fight – a decision “helped along” by the arrival of dragon hunter Matthew McConaughey and his band of sky diving renegades. Reign of Fire is an amiable enough romp in the post-apocalyptic mould but therein lies its problem – it’s billed as a dragon flick. Sure there are a few flying about and quite impressive they are too, but by relying on a budget-friendly plot that ignores the bits you want to see (hordes of dragons trashing major cities for example) there’s a sense at feeling cheated. Not a disaster by any stretch, but a film that seems to have a beginning and an end, but no middle.

Resident Evil

Mercy me if we don’t have Paul Anderson’s best film ever! Sure it’s still ropey but it’s an improvement nonetheless. One of Film Four’s last productions (sniff) at least it’s a big budget multiplex job so the company can go out with a bang and not a wimpy British social comedy. Mira Sorvino spends most of the time trying to recall who she is whilst fighting zombies and pointlessly attempting to keep her clothes on. Not art, but you’ll dig the zombie dogs, the odd “jumpy” bit and forget it quickly. People criticised this film for being disposable trash without subtext – they’re right, but surely that’s the point?

Rollerball

More studio/MPAA hassles dogged this long delayed re-make of Norman Jewison’s Slap Shot of the future. Use this as an excuse if you want, but Rollerball, despite a couple of nice ideas (that don’t even begin to work), is an unmitigated total mess of a film. Huge chunks of the action have gone missing, the casual sexism feels like a cheap seventies exploitation flick and the acting is poor. The games themselves are rambling rubbish, make no sense and are frankly just plain stupid.

Scooby Doo

We may not know what “scooby” means but we sure know what “doo” is. Inexplicably popular summer no-brainer filled with lame gags and a crass oh-so-postmodern plot. At times you long for the crudely animated 2-D counterpart (early ones naturally, avoiding the Scrappy abomination) on the basis that at least it was shorter. The characters, bar Scooby, look the part though (mind you they did in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back) and the mise-en-scene is a pretty good approximation of the cartoon. Writer James Gunn has done better work in the past though – check out Tromeo and Juliet, now that is post-modern comedy at its best.

Signs

Mel Gibson stars as an ex-Reverend who has lost his faith and his wife in M Night Shyamalan’s crop circle creeper. Are the signs in the fields a hoax or indications of extra-terrestrial intelligence? As usual Shyamalan plays the low-key card to best effect (reunited with chilled out cinematographer Tak Fujimoto), often cranking up the tension with little more than a light bulb and some creaky sound effects. Seat wetting events follow and if you look too hard the whole thing comes apart but hey, this is a sf horror film, you are here for the chills and Signs surely delivers. Even if Shyamalan’s cameos are creeping into the realm of supporting roles…

Spiderman

Bitten by a genetically modified arachnid, our hero Peter Parker finds he has developed spider powers, powers he’ll need to fight crime and defeat the treacherous Green Goblin. And get the girl. Storming through the box office Raimi manages to put behind that unfortunate trailer from Summer 2001 behind him. Even if the studio execs cut some of the effects budget there’s no doubt that (Green Goblin’s occasionally dodgy look aside) this is an impressive and occasionally exhilarating experience. Raimi’s focusing on the human side of the Spiderman story makes the character more engrossing and believable, so that the whole piece works like a drama rather than a clotheshorse for all the whizz-bang stuff.

Spirited Away

Officially Japan’s most successful film ever, Miyazaki’s young heroine must survive a horrifying and surreal environment in an effort to save her parents, who have been transformed into gluttonous pigs by the town’s magic and their own greed. Like a terrifying Alice in Wonderland this film has sent many a small Japanese child wailing out of the cinema, but it remains yet another masterpiece from Studio Ghibli; a combination of wonder and horror. The combination of predominantly cell animation and Miyazaki’s eye for composition and characterisation put this head and shoulders above western competition who still seem set on the idea that animation is strictly for kids. Miyazaki’s films are childlike not childish, a distinction Disney would do well to re-adopt.

Spy Kids 2: Island of Lost Dreams

Robert Rodriguez gives us a second helping of his diminutive spies (part of a proposed trilogy). It all rests on Rodriguez’s shoulders (he writes, produces, shoots, directs, makes the tea etc) to deliver the goods and fortunately he doesn’t miss a beat. Yes it’s ludicrous but that’s what we like! Fast, loud, innovative and fun – bizarre Harryhausen references abound, the design is fabulous and it’s even got Steve Buscemi as a mad scientist. Our two heroes face the threat of another global takeover but their skills are further tested by two rival spy kids who have better gadgets than they do. Their long suffering spy parents (and grandparents) prove as delightfully ineffectual as ever as the action centres on the mysterious island – home to hybrid animals, bickering skeletons and flying horseshoe magnets. You know it makes sense!

Star Wars Episode 2: Attack of the Clones

The normal defensive response to this is: well it’s better than The Phantom Menace. Viewed as an extension of silent cinema’s use of film Attack of the Clones works well, but the over-cramming of plot, sometimes disorientating parallel editing and plethora of silly names do much to dampen this one down. Rather like The Empire Strikes Back the tone is significantly darker as the tale recounts the rise of a clone army and portents to the war to come (presumably) in Episode Three. Visually and aurally arresting (and not just the effects – some of the details and composition are pure cinema) there’s much to enjoy but also much to endure. Even if Yoda kick butt he does.

Thir13en Ghosts

The latest in the William Tingler Castle re-makes, 13 Ghosts sadly misses the ghost glasses gimmick of its illustrious inspiration and goes straight for the mid-budget jugular. Another haunted house flick, this time an inheritance from a mad relative who has 13 ghosts trapped inside his building provides the impetus for a group being stuck in the midst of it all. Of course these can be released by a variety of retro-mechanics and arcane demonic gobbledegook. Ultimately it’s all very samey and rather dull, but the set design of the house (and the tricky cinematographic challenge it must have caused) is among the most impressive of recent years – all glass, brass and mirrors. Sadly, like the inferior travesty The Haunting, great sets do not a great film make.

The Time Machine

Simon Wells adapts H.G. Wells in this easy to watch but easy to forget telling of the classic novel(la). Updating Pal’s wonderful work on the 1960’s version to the CGI age may not be to purists’ tastes but it works more as homage than a rip off as aeons rush by in seconds, landscapes remould and the cycles of life and death are repeated at an ever-increasing pace. A darker and far more traditional film than could have reasonably been expected, even if some of the “blame on war and government” stuff has been toned down, there’s enough here to keep you engaged without resorting to needless eye-candy.

Vanilla Sky

The big question looms… Why? Spending millions of dollars on a remake of a foreign film is no excuse to compensate a viewing audience that refuses to read. In the case of Vanilla Sky (a re-make of The Others’ director Amenábar’s Abre los ojos) the occasional plot twists and reality moulding make it unsuitable for the short on brainpower anyway! Cruise is ideally cast as a narcissistic son of multi-millionaire who, following a car crash after an altercation with a long-time girlfriend, undergoes extensive facial reconstruction… and possible charges for murder. Sadly, despite Cameron Crowe’s deft handling of the film, it all descends into maudlin self-pity and ends with an explanation designed to hammer the “meaning” into the heads of even the most in-bred of preview audiences. Ultimately it stays so close to its source at times (Crowe refers to it as a re-mix, Cruz plays the same role and even Cruise looks exactly like his Spanish counterpart) you wonder why they bothered.

CGI Stuff – Monsters Inc, Ice Age, Jimmy Neutron Boy Genius

The all CGI rollercoaster continues to develop in momentum although after the sad financial returns from last year’s Final Fantasy the emphasis is now firmly on the tried (and lucrative) family/kids market. Monsters Inc confirms Pixar’s place as the CGI people to watch – forget the rendering (albeit delightful) and just enjoy the characters and story. Big monsters + cute kid = top film. Exciting, funny and genuine. With nowhere near the clout of Pixar, Jimmy Neutron Boy Genius plants its feet firmly in the kids mould – fun but not much for adults to enjoy, and some of the rendering looks surprisingly early-90’s. Ice Age is, however, a bit different – basically reworking Dinosaur (there are even similarities to Monsters Inc in that two monsters befriend a defenceless human) with a hint of Chuck Jones anarchy, its problem lies with the shift in styles. Ultimately you care more about the unfortunate mute squirrel than the buddy-buddy tedium of the main characters. Another place to find CGI in the cinema is before the film you’ve paid your six quid to see. These are proving lucrative springboards for testing techniques, pad out the running time of the feature and more importantly see a long welcome return to the animated short. This year’s highlight was The Chubbchubs, although For The Birds demonstrated that Pixar could be as amusing as ever. And you don’t HAVE to have kids to see them.

And the winners are (drumroll, please):

Best SF-Fantasy: Spy Kids 2

Best Fantasy: Spirited Away

Scariest SF-Horror: Signs

Scariest Horror: The Eye

Special Takashi Miike Award for Utter Bonkersness: The Happiness of the Katakuris