While the number of exclusively SF films are a bit low this year, those that are borderline (crossing over into the fantasy or horror genres) are on the increase. But then again how often do “true” SF films come along? And what is an SF film anyway? If SF is the extrapolation of the contemporary to perceive a logically plausible future then really Final Fantasy is the closest you are going to get (spiritual questions excepted) this year. If you view SF as a method for commenting on the present by altering actuality or perceived near-futures then Josie and the Pussycats is your film. Then of course, came the Hypes of the Year – both based on popular novels. Perhaps most surprisingly the one film that most definitely is not SF is the one that virtually everyone agrees is a “must-see” is The Dish. In the end it seems that whether a film can be marketed or justified as SF is irrelevant to whether it is perceived as such.

A.I.

Imagine a table laid with the finest savoury food you’ve ever tasted; little canapés, stuffed olives, tasty cheesy nibbles, fresh bread. The aroma. The feel of your saliva glands bursting with antici…pation. Then imagine the horror as the renowned chef who has created these delicious morsels unloads a dumper-truck of artificial sweetener over the whole lot and bids you bon apetit. This is what watching A.I. is like. Unforgivable and a further plunge to the “not good” side of the Spielberg swing-o-meter that hasn’t seen a good film in 12 years (which admittedly is still ahead of Ridley Scott’s 17 years and counting – this year’s risible Hannibal reaching a nadir). If you must watch it then switch off or walk out when it feels like the end, you’ll thank us for it and probably like it.

Atlantis: The Lost Continent

Well, the story ain’t exactly bursting with originality – young bumbling geek and his group of companions, some of whom have, gasp, ulterior motives, discover the legendary lost city of Atlantis. Cue adventures, excitement, misunderstandings and betrayal before all is nicely resolved and everyone lives happily ever after. Except the bad guys. What makes this film worth watching though, apart from the merciful lack of bad musical numbers, is the delightful animation. Japanese anime has become increasingly influential on Western films – characters’ eyes are becoming bigger, their noses are more snub-cute but more importantly the action has become far more dynamic. In many respects it’s a return to Disney’s glory days of the 30s and 40s. The ending is almost abstract as the source of Atlantis’ power prevents the volcano’s lava destroying the city, it’s a sequence that tries to live up to the masterful work of Miyazaki and if it never comes close (Disney may have the cash and the staff but they can’t compete with the delicacy, ambiguity and occasional ferocity of Miyazaki) it is nonetheless a welcome step in the right direction. Shame it lost shed-loads of money which, combined with similarly poor box office for Final Fantasy as well as last year’s Titan A.E. and Princess Mononoke, makes the possibility of less demanding animation increasingly likely in the west.

Battle Royale

SF Japanese style, released to cries of despair in its native land. Why the fuss? Well the near future plot revolves around the staging of a government-sponsored game show where contestants have to kill or be killed on a specially modified island. Armed with a random selection of weapons from sub-machine guns to the awesome tea-tray, the combatants have three days to kill each other. There can only be one survivor, a rule enforced by the exploding collar – a stylish fashion statement that everyone must wear. The whole sordid affair is commented upon with helium-induced glee by a bubbly, bouncing front woman and the progress in the film can be seen at regular intervals thanks to a handy “people left alive” tally. So far, so good but Battle Royale’s trump card is that the contestants are all roped into the game by their long suffering schoolteacher (played by the inimitable ‘Beat’ Takeshi), resulting in two hours of 14 and 15 year olds mutilating each other in the name of entertainment. Sick, socially appropriate and wickedly funny.

Brotherhood of the Wolf

In a great year for popularist French films Brotherhood of the Wolf is a crowd-pleasing combination of heritage gore, monster movie and multi-racial martial arts. A sweeping pot-pourri of a film, it occasionally falls foul of its everything-into-the-pot ethos, but gains top marks for exhilarating camerawork and design. 9 out of 10 Hollywood blockbusters (when stating a preference) declared that they wish they’d been this instead.

Cats and Dogs

The potential for a great film stuffed with James Bond gadgets, international canine politics, allergy cures, mad scientists and big quadruped punch-ups may be there, but Cats and Dogs is a dog of a film. A reactionary piece of propaganda that asserts that all dogs are patriotic defenders of the US flag; the political overtones are distasteful and seem to be saying that wealth equals morality, that the only women who are not wholly evil are not worthy to have a home of their own and that any non-US nation is inherently suspect. Some of the CGI definitely bears the hallmarks of rushed-out-for-the-holidays-itis. Still Mr Tinkles’ character means that it is not entirely a lost cause, it’s just that the overall film is such a missed opportunity. And besides, cats rule.

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon

How long has it taken to get a decent bit of stylised wire-work into Hollywood? Too long, and ironically now you can’t get away from it (although if you’re after gentle laid back film try The Man Who Wasn’t There, mentioned here because we couldn’t think of anywhere else appropriate to put it). While The Matrix may have introduced it to a wider audience it took Crouching Tiger to put it into context. What Ang Lee has managed to do is redefine HK-style cinema as art, no mean feat for a Wu Xia film as most reviewers limit themselves to Wong Kar Wai (whose only Wu Xia film Ashes of Time was kept from these shores until Crouching Tiger made it “acceptable”) or John Woo, dismissing others as merely metteurs-en-scene of cinematic junkfood. So while many may have been surprised by the cross dressing (it’s a staple of the genre), the surreal nature of the fighting (it’s a staple of the genre) and the pathos (it’s a staple of the genre), it doesn’t detract from a sumptuous and, in Hollywood terms, groundbreaking film. Suddenly Iron Monkey is issued in the US and reaps comfortable returns at the box office, and a Mandarin language film grabs some statues. Scoff all you want but this is good news.

The Dish

Possibly the flimsiest excuses for putting this in a round up of SF films but frankly it has got a rocket in it, so it sort of counts (sadly we couldn’t twist things far enough to include the remarkable Tears of the Black Tiger, Amélie or Moulin Rouge). The workers at an Australian satellite station are given the task of broadcasting man’s first steps on the moon live to the globe, a task not made any easier by its location in a sheep paddock and a series of unfortunate mishaps. As much about a small rural community as it is about the space race The Dish sees all the actors on top form with some mercifully restrained direction. Gentle, delightful and not in the slightest bit cloying, The Dish is a wonderful feel-good comedy that cannot be recommended highly enough. Even cynics can enjoy.

Dungeons and Dragons

Admit it, you missed this one as well didn’t you? Well in the name of “art” and Vector we didn’t. Quite simply the funniest film of the year we howled through every atrocious moment, almost requiring medical attention at some of Jeremy Irons’ gluttony-rich scenery feasting. Not convinced? Try this: Tom Baker as a geriatric elf, Richard O’Brien as the campest king of thieves, needlessly moulded female armour, pointy ears, horrible dialogue, dreadful acting and very silly names. In a year of lacklustre blockbusters and tired screenplays it takes something really special to plumb the depths – D&D’s the one. Pack a D20 and a six-pack.

Evolution

It’s Ghostbusters for the Noughties! Only jaw-droppingly poor. Interesting CGI and some intriguing ideas cannot begin to compensate for third-rate arse gags and sorry acting. Dripping with teeth-grinding scenes of unimaginable crassness, the poster is by far the best bit.

Final Fantasy

Square Soft’s ambitious and hugely costly all CGI feature was generally condemned by critics as slight and avoided by the public at large. Anything good to say about it was levelled at the heroine’s hair. A shame really, as Final Fantasy’s deceptively simple story can be viewed on many levels, the attention to design and pacing is superb whilst the score quite simply one of the most portentously serious in a long time. Breathtaking visuals, alien aliens (how often can you say that?), action, adventure, a decent female lead role for once and a mainstream film that tackles questions of identity, ecology and spirituality. Buy it on DVD and curse that you couldn’t be bothered to see it on the big screen. Which we did of course. Twice.

John Carpenter’s Ghosts of Mars

So JC returns at last from his brief sojourn into the Vampire genre to direct an SF/Horror hybrid. However mish-mash is probably a more appropriate term. A group of cops set out to transport a dangerous prisoner from a holding gaol across Mars to a secure facility. But on arrival they discover that most of the camp population have somehow become possessed and are now fearsome fiends, with painful looking body piercings and strange rituals. Told in flashback, the film holds little in the way of suspense as you know the final outcome pretty much from the beginning. Despite a thoroughly respectable ensemble cast and good use of mise-en-scene, it just doesn’t quite work. Enjoyable hokum, but one expects more from Carpenter.

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone

One of the hypes of the year. Well, this looks great and features another droll turn from the stunning Alan Rickman. That’s the good part. Unfortunately Chris Columbus (it should’ve been Gilliam directing), while sensibly opting for a British cast, sadly appears so in awe of Ms Rowling’s book that he doesn’t pare enough of it to make the characterisation work. This results in a film that never fails to interest but is distanced from actually making the audience care for the characters as anything other than (delightfully realised) walking illustrations. Sometimes judicious editing and restructuring are essential to make a film work as a film…

Josie and the Pussycats

Blink-and-you-missed-it Archie comic post-modern update with great tunes, heaps of consumerist irony and spot-on performances all around. Josie’s frothy pop-punksters are spin-doctored into stardom by Alan Cumming and his bubbly-bitch boss following an unfortunate “accident” resulting in the disappearance of (s)hit boy band duJour. But sinister plans are afoot involving hi-tech underground capitalist marketing, brainwashing America’s youth and world domination (insert maniacal laugh here). Infectious lightweight fun, cruelly discarded on initial release – this year’s missed hit.

Jurassic Park III

JPIII is streets ahead of its wretched predecessor in terms of… well everything really, but is still pretty dodgy. Wisely the film ditches basic storytelling principles (beginning-middle-end) in favour of a “get on with the dinosaurs” middle-only approach resulting in much more action. Preposterous in the extreme with a bizarre solution to restoring estranged families (throw your only son on a dinosaur inhabited island for a couple of months before kidnapping a palaeontologist and enlisting the services of B-picture mercenaries to get him back again) at least there are jumps, thrills and spills to be enjoyed in-between your mouthfuls of popcorn. Dire characterisation, occasionally ludicrous set-pieces and a non-ending do their best to dampen whatever lacklustre enthusiasm you can muster, but it passes the time. Remember, The Lost World (1925 and re-issued on video/DVD this year) and King Kong (1933) are still the best dinosaur films ever made.

Lara Croft: Tomb Raider

Beginning with outrageous fetishistic sexualisation through voyeuristic editing, the Lara v. Robot opening gets most of the fan-boy wet dreams nicely out of the way before settling down into familiar “Indiana Jones” style territory. Angelina Jolie makes a surprisingly good Lara Croft (although less said about Jon Anaconda Voight’s oh-so-ironic part as her father the better) and being a Simon West film at least the action is exhilarating. Of course it is disposable tosh with some dreadful dialogue and delivery, a plot from a B-movie producer’s wastepaper bin and more product placements than The Shopping Channel, but nice use is made of Angkor Watt and the ending is strangely reminiscent of The Final Programme, just don’t ask why…

The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Rings

Peter “ne’er a bad film” Jackson has done it – a splendid three-hour adaptation of Tolkien. Ditching the usual (Tom “always first to go” Bombadil and the Barrow-wights among many) Jackson’s film makes far more narrative sense in the uprising of Saruman in Isengard than the book ever did. Huge battles, Boschian Mordor, really horrid orcs, aloof elves, a tantalising glimpse of Gollum, mercifully underplayed invisibility transformations and big, big sets mix with picture perfect cinematography and Howard Shore’s not-too-cute soundtrack. The editing’s great, Gandalf is perfect riding the fine line between party-thrower extraordinaire and terrifying vessel of destructive power and you even forget that the hobbits are in reality the same size as the rest of the cast, due to the subtlety of the effects work. A packed cinema full of kids marvelled at it, and the adults were entranced too, so you can’t say fairer than that.

The Mummy Returns

OK so The Mummy wasn’t going to be winning any awards for literary merit or plausibility but it was a helluva lot of fun. The sequel goes for the “re-make with knobs on” approach but sadly the film cannot live up to its predecessor. Yes, the battles are impressive, there are jumps, flashbacks, sword-fighting, airships and all manner of icky curses. Unfortunately some of it seems a touch stale and the horror aspects of the original have been ousted by spectacle. Worst of all is the appalling Scorpion king – he’s rubbish when just a bloke and laughably rubbish when half man/half scorpion, rendered in some truly abominable CGI. Still fun, still watchable, still dumb, but a let down nonetheless.

Planet of the Apes

A-ha. Tim Burton’s “re-imagining” of The Planet of the Apes. Presumably he “re-imagined” it as an average, disposable piece of lightweight tosh without a single memorable human character, replete with uncharacteristically insipid cinematography, no human experimentation and a selection of endings pinched from Boulle’s novel, Star Trek: The Motion(less) Picture and Kevin Smith (allegedly – but even if you had written that ending would you have admitted it?). Disappointing and Burton’s least Burtonesque film since Batman.

Shrek

Truly a film for all ages the marvellous Shrek has had more than its fair share of eminently justifiable praise – if you’ve seen it nothing we’re going to say is going to come as any surprise and if you haven’t then where the hell were you in 2001?

Spy Kids

Robert Rodriguez in U-rated shocker! Fast and furious fun from start to finish this is the cool kids’ flick of the year with super-spy parents being held hostage and only their kids to save them. Cue mad gadgets, jet-packs and nuclear powered submarines. Where else can you see Antonio Banderas at the mercy of a pantomime cackling megalomaniac Alan Cumming (it’s that man again) complete with an army of guards who are, literally, all thumbs? More action and ideas in ten minutes than most Hollywood blockbusters cram into two hours; bonkers concepts, mad sets and frenetic camerawork. As deep as a small puddle but sheer entertainment nonetheless.

This Year’s Horror

The delayed release of the Wes Craven produced Dracula 2000 (imaginatively re-titled in the UK as, wait for it,… Dracula 2001) couldn’t disguise the tedium of the finished film. Packed with some interesting ideas, particularly relating to Judas Iscariot, any affinity for the project is dampened by needless editing, that annoying tendency to show gross things but just a little bit so it doesn’t offend, and an entirely unconvincing Dracula. Well, he’s fine swishing the cloak about and stomping around in leather trousers, but please don’t let him open his mouth. A plethora of unsubtle Virgin (the shop not the preferred type of vampire victim) product placements drive the final stake well and truly home. Far better (relatively) was Forsaken, an AIDS allegory fusion of John Carpenter’s Vampires and Near Dark. Not original by any stretch but eminently watchable, occasionally shocking and only let down by a weak finale. Jeepers Creepers was a run-of-the-mill teen horror with jumps aplenty. It managed to tread the now over-familiar post-postmodernist route (how many times do we need to be told how to watch a horror film?) but dared to be different at the end, amidst an otherwise predictable plot. As for Bless The Child and Lost Souls… don’t ask, and please don’t get us worked up to mention the truly abominable Scary Movie 2. However one to watch out for is The Others, the sort of horror film that’s been missing from the big screen for too long. No gore, no fx overload, just a thoroughly creepy haunted house story. Who cares if you’re savvy enough to know what’s going on? With splendid performances all round, this is a rare treat – a horror film that genuinely scares and shocks. Also well worth a peek is the low-budget Canadian lycanthrope film Ginger Snaps, mixing art, gore and Buffy as one of a pair of suicide obsessed sisters finds herself growing a tail and having an insatiable urge for human blood. Top stuff. Follow-up fans will be pleased to have seen the excellent sequel to spooky Japanese shocker The Ring (title? guess…) received a limited release – we implore you to catch up with this series right now and join us in awaiting the release of Ring 0, hopefully next year. Those of a nervous disposition are invited to seek their kicks elsewhere. Add Audition to the equation and Japan look like retaining their crown as makers of interesting and audacious horror.

And the winners are:

Best (and fluffiest) SF Film: Josie and the Pussycats

Scariest Horror: The Others

Fantasy Winner: The Lord of the Rings (inevitably)

Best SF-by-the-back-door: The Dish

Film That Didn’t Match Its Hype: Planet of the Apes

A few years ago, you’d have been hard pressed to find a science fiction film in the cinema. Nowadays there’s hardly a week that goes by without you being able to see something sf at your local multiplex. But have they been any good this year?

What, You Mean The Book Came First?

Battlefield Earth

The most critically mutilated and hated film in living memory, Battlefield Earth‘s reputation lay in the fact that no-one (apart from us!) went to see it but felt compelled to put in their bit about how wretched it was. Chief concern was the “S”-word, a word so powerful that Battlefield Earth came close to being banned in some European countries on the grounds of religious propaganda and brainwashing! In the cold light of day it is but a Hollywood blockbuster: big, stupid, has an impressive ending that rivals Independence Day in its requirement to suspend disbelief and generally keeps you entertained. It feels closer to 1970’s sci-fi than the modern variety but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Flawed, looks cheesy and has some stinking dialogue, but ultimately the most offensive thing about it is how they manage to get in McDonalds product placement. Mindless piffle but more rewarding than Gone In 60 Seconds or MI:2.

Breakfast of Champions

A film starring Bruce Willis that played screen #35 out of 35 at Warner Star Village for one week only? The answer is Alan Rudolph’s adaptation of Kurt Vonnegut’s wonderful book. Unfortunately most people just didn’t get it which is a big pity as this is another in a long line of flawed but brilliant Vonnegut films. Its main fault lies in the fact that in order to get anything out of it you need to be familiar with the source. We were and loved every minute of it.

A Clockwork Orange

After a quarter of a century of self-imposed ban and the proliferation of grainy n^th generation videos, Kubrick’s sf masterpiece gets the cinematic treatment it always deserved in a shiny new print and gorgeous mono sound. So what if the “yoof” stayed at home and missed out on the re-release of the year, it’s their loss. Still as brilliantly satirical and viciously camp as the day it was filmed.

Sleepy Hollow

Tim Burton’s re-telling of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow is a real visual tour de force, confirming his position as the auteur of big budget Hollywood. Living proof of the tag line “Heads Will Roll” this is a decapitation fan’s dream with some simply astonishing effects realising the headless horseman’s violent predilection for removing the noggins of all and sundry. The title is apt, although visually sumptuous, costumed to the max and with seminal performances from all concerned, emotionally the film seems a bit, well, hollow.

Big, Bold, Beautiful And Brainless?

Charlie’s Angels

Unlike the undistinguished and diluted John Woo/Tom Cruise Summer smash MI:2 Charlie’s Angels is blissfully unconcerned with matters of taste, decency and being serious. And all the better for it. Our three angels have to prevent the cessation of privacy that will be invoked if the Black Star consortium use stolen software that traces vocal DNA by using their mobile phone communications satellite as a high-tech tracker. We are in politically incorrect territory here but hey, all the girls kick ass better than their pathetic male counterparts. All the glasses are colour tinted, all the gadgets are Avenger’s daft, everything that could be believable is escalated to the preposterous. There are big explosions, intricate heists, computer hacking, car chases, lederhosen, guns, cunning disguises, crass gags and lots of fashionably improbable wirework martial arts. More insane than a farm full of cows, it’s as though the filmmakers have tossed every action idea into a kitsch bowl and mixed it up using a camp whisk.

Galaxy Quest

A brilliantly obvious premise (actors in a TV sf-show are kidnapped by aliens who think they are really that heroic) accompanied by great effects and a cast clearly enjoying themselves, Galaxy Quest manages to ride a fine line that could have killed it dead. Neither mocking the fanbase nor relying on the audience understanding fandom, it gets on with pastiching every sf cliché. Starting in Academy ratio, the film opens into glorious anamorphic Panavision revealing the enormity of the situation. Rickman steals the show and, whilst this is not going to bear too many repeat viewings, it’s a helluva lot of fun while it lasts.

The Hollow Man

Paul Verhoeven alert! Sadly this is Verhoeven-lite with many of the potentially more disturbing aspects of the screenplay shuffled to the background. It’s a pity because Bacon gives a sound performance, even when transparent, as a man driven to madness by apparently irreversible invisibility. Complementing his performance are some quite remarkable and graphic effects that unfold like a living Grey’s Anatomy. The voyeuristic aspects of the story bode well but unfortunately it deteriorates into another Terminator-style “how many times can we kill him” ending that just seems tacked on. Better than average, but Verhoeven can do so much more.

Mission To Mars

Brian de Palma fails to realise the promise of his early career by producing a stupefyingly dull 2001-meets-ET with a red filter wedged to the camera, some impressive but tedious effects and a decidedly ropy latex alien. Watch Phantom of the Paradise again instead and save your pennies.

Unbreakable

Another underplayed and intelligent film from the Sixth Sense’s M Night Shylaman, this subtle offering concerns Bruce Willis, the only survivor of a train crash, being led to believe that he might just be a real life superhero.

The X-Men

Bryan The Usual Suspects Singer proves his worth in The X-Men, Marvel’s grim crusaders bought to celluloid life. Treading the ground between serious (concentration camp prologue, mutant rights, moral ambiguity on both sides) and spectacle (cracking costumes, twenty foot long tongues, people thrown about like rag dolls and lots of pyrotechnics) the attempt to make a thought provoking popcorn film works to some extent. All the performances are exemplary, the set pieces stunning and Hollywood’s return to using outrageous wirework is most welcome for those of us who like their spectacle to be spectacular and their art artistic.

Smaller, Sweet And Strange

Being John Malkovich

Although the Coens’ madcap version of Homer’s Odyssey O Brother Where Art Thou? was mighty strange you were at least prepared for it, not so with Spike Jonze’s barking Being John Malkovich. A puppeteer finds himself engaged in a business enterprise renting out John Malkovich’s inner self via a doorway found behind a filing cabinet on a half-sized floor in an office block. As you do. A great fantasy which, while it ultimately peters out a touch, has more than enough to maintain a “cult film” status. An assured debut feature.

Momento

What if your memory was restricted to the last few minutes of your life? How would you live? In Momento the answer is to use a system; tattoo your body with messages and Polaroid everything you come across. To reinforce the premise the film is structured in tight pockets correlating to Leonard’s memory span which plays in reverse, unravelling pieces to the mystery of not only his life but the savage murder of his wife that triggered the condition. With first rate performances all round this was one of those little films that came from apparently nowhere. Feeling like the best of urban based 60’s science fiction this is one of the films of the year, intriguing, disturbing and a “must see several times.”

Titan AE

The premise is the usual space opera one – save the last remnants of the human race that has been scattered sparsely across the galaxy following the obliteration of Earth by an evil alien race. Everything about Titan A.E. is larger than life; huge explosions, hide and seek in a belt of ice, strange creatures, death defying stunts, zero-G and exotic landscapes. The world explodes for your pleasure and there’s enough character interaction (script doctored by Buffy’s workaholic creator Joss Whedon) to pull it all through. This is spectacle at its best and most enjoyable, with the huge possibilities of CGI mixed with more fluid cell animation to produce something far more emotional than last year’s Phantom Menace. Unfortunately the concept of a cartoon that appeals to those other than children (still a blinkered opinion held by many) did not ignite the box office. Link this with the similarly lacklustre response (in the States) to Miyazaki’s long awaited Princess Mononoke and the sorry situation is that large-scale animation still seems limited (in the West) to Disney’s annual outings. C’est la vie.

Pitch Black

This mid-budget Australian SF/horror hybrid is an inventive and enjoyable romp with sudden jumps, gory deaths and, while some of the cast wave tell-tale “I’m beasty fodder” placards, the question of who will survive is very much open. Crash landing on an apparently deserted planet the survivors soon realise that the previous inhabitants were met with a less than friendly welcoming party – savage hordes of carnivorous flying beasts that gnaw humans to the bone in seconds. Fortunately they can only survive in the dark. Unfortunately the planet is due for a month long eclipse in, oh, about a couple of hours. To make matters worse one of the party is a convicted felon and very dangerous. With effective use of tension, the result is no masterpiece but a solid rollercoaster ride. The black and white blurred “thing-o-vision” is particularly effective proving that you don’t need to shell out all your cash on big stars and ILM.

How Horrific

The Ring (Ringu)

Without a doubt the finest horror film of the year, The Ring is a subtle Japanese techno-Ghost story almost entirely free of viscera yet disturbingly nasty with plenty of jumps and creepy bits. The tale concerns the distribution of a videotape which, once viewed, means that the spectator has exactly a week to live, or does it? Coming across as a restrained hybrid of Videodrome and The Sixth Sense but far scarier, it is a triumph of imagination over budget. Laid back in pace and high on tension this is the most unsettling but rewarding horror film since George Sluizer’s masterful Spoorloos and cannot be recommended highly enough. The sequel (unambiguously titled The Ring 2) is due for release in art cinemas next year so watch out for the original appearing as part of a repertory programme.

Elsewhere the horror film rode the gamut of enjoyment from A to Z. House On Haunted Hill was a nasty but fun remake of the William Castle classic (sadly devoid of the rubber skeleton), The Haunting was a beautifully designed but excruciatingly poor remake of Robert Wise’s classic. Scream 3 was the weakest of the trilogy, Scary Movie an atrocious so-called comedy, Final Destination an enjoyably preposterous romp and Urban Legends: Final Cut a distinct improvement on its lacklustre prequel with an incredibly gruesome first murder. Blair Witch 2: Book of Shadows wisely ditched the verité format of its (bizarrely) celebrated forebear but unwisely trod the tediously familiar ground of post-modernism. Polanski’s The Ninth Gate flew the flag for cerebral horror in a film surpassed in length only by Frank Darabont’s The Green Mile (his second life-affirming period prison drama adapted from a story by Stephen King) which featured Tom Hanks having painful urinary problems. Stigmata’s MTV visuals and John Woo style doves, together with some sterling performances could not save it from being vacuous tat.

It’s like, you know, for kids…

Despite a number of high profile blockbusters (and unmitigated disasters), 2000 should perhaps be noted as a great year for films aimed primarily at children. Normally a good year yields at most two bona fide classics but this year several magical fantasies vied for the pocket money. Pokemon was not one of them. Neither was Dinosaur – $200 million is a helluva lot of money and somewhere amidst the awesome groundbreaking CGI and the stunning sound, someone forgot to put in a story. Uli (Last Exit To Brooklyn, Christiane F!) Edel’s The Little Vampire is a thoroughly delightful tale of an American newcomer to Scotland befriending the younger (only just past 300 years old) boy in a family of vampires led by a domineering Richard E Grant. There’s little time before a centennial comet passes which will allow the vampires to live in peace as humans once more. Naturally there are obstacles such as the smelly vampire hunter and his arsenal of vamp-snuffing gadgets. Part Moonfleet in feel this is great fun, the vampires aren’t compromised by being in a kids’ film and anyone who doesn’t warm to a shed full of vampire cows hiding from the day clearly needs to lighten up. The Little Vampire’s star Lipnicki also appears in Stuart Little, another film based upon old and established childrens’ books. Again the trick here is that the film doesn’t patronise its audience and just gets on with the show. Stuart is a lively little fellow and while he is viewed by many as ‘different’ no one seems the slightest bit concerned that he is a talking mouse. There are some great action scenes, some dark sequences where Stuart is due to be “whacked” by the local mouse Mafia under the order of the Little’s cat (whose position he threatens) as well as a bonding between the family amidst the slapstick. Anyone who has heard of John Lasseter will know any film bearing his name is the cause for celebration. Toy Story 2 is another triumph, proving that state-of-the-art CGI comes into its own only when married to a decent script and strong characters – it is a means to an end, not the end itself. Constantly engaging, very funny and perfect for all ages there is more than enough subtext to win over adults. Woody, Buzz and the gang tackle the weighty subjects of consumer marketing strategy and the purpose of childhood and friendship in a modern context. Chicken Run was the long awaited first feature from Aardman and proof that Mel Gibson makes a better cock than he does a yawn-inducing reactionary Brit-basher. There was much to enjoy in the deranged live action version of Asterix and Obelix Take On Caesar although we’d rather have heard Gerard Depardieu as Obelix as well as just admiring his Roman bashing antics and voluminous waistline.

And the winners are (drum roll please):

Best Fantasy Film: The Little Vampire

Best Horror Film: The Ring

Best SF Film: Momento

Special ‘Camp’ Award: Charlie’s Angels

1998 will not, in all honesty, go down as a classic year for cinema and, in the high budget world of Hollywood science fiction, will be signposted as “Year of the Bloated Eye Candy” for generations to come. The big three science fiction films this year (‘Lost in Space’ [Stephen Hopkins], ‘Godzilla’ [Roland Emmerich], ‘Armageddon’ [Michael Bay]) were all over-hyped, over-budget, over-long and over here for the best part of three months apiece, three long, long months of celluloid vacuum. But it was not all doom and gloom, little packets of happiness were opened occasionally and their fairy dust contents sprinkled around in some of the more surprising corners of the film world. It was also the year that films got made simultaneously to much the same end – ‘Saving Private Ryan’[Steven Spielberg] was ‘Starship Troopers’[Paul Verhoeven] only crap, ‘End of Violence’[Wim Wenders] was ‘Enemy of the State’[Tony Scott] only quiet, and ‘Deep Impact’ [Mimi Leder] was ‘Armageddon’ only no-one went to see it.

Giant Insects And Monsters

It’s just not PC to have any particular race being portrayed as the bad guys any more. We’re one big happy world and that’s all there is to it. So against whom can we now fight for freedom, justice and liberty?

Saving Starship Troopers – ‘Starship Troopers’ opened the year in grand guignol style, a technical tour de force of effects, every cent flaunted on visuals. However Paul Verhoeven’s aggressive attack on fascist dogma was not to everyone’s liking, the line between criticism of the Baywatch/Hitler Youth main characters and relishing the regalia and trappings they represent, was uncomfortably thin. Whatever the political motivation for the film, it is undeniably fun for those of strong stomach and certainly far better than Spielberg’s virtual remake in the form of ‘Saving Private Ryan’. Both films feature a level of violence unsurpassed in mainstream western cinema, they revel in it, guts, brains and other sticky bits galore. They both, inexplicably, received a “15” rating from the BBFC for cinema exhibition and they both feature minimalist plot structures to allow for maximum carnage. Where they differ is on political and ideological stance, ‘Starship Troopers‘ keeps its politics on an ambiguous level, you can quite happily flit away two hours blissfully unaware of any political subtext, but can derive rich interpretations should you so desire. ‘Saving Private Ryan’ wants to have its cake and eat it, on the one hand it endeavours to be the great ‘War is Hell’ message movie but in reality it’s just a bog standard ‘Dirty Dozen’ [Robert Aldrich – 1967](well eight) clone with viscera and all the more insulting because of it. When ‘Starship Troopers’ ends you know that the victory is a deliberate and cynically portrayed one, in ‘Ryan’ it is gratuitous sentiment intended to mirror ‘Schindler’s List’ [Steven Spielberg – 1993] but which ultimately demeans it.

‘Mimic’ – Guillermo del Torro’s contemporary horror film mixes the standard 1950’s science-gone-wrong scenario with the 1970’s eco-paranoia sub-genre to produce something that is irritatingly close to art/entertainment perfection but blows it all away over minor quibbles. Looking like a cross between ‘Starship Troopers’ and ‘Cinema Paradiso’ [Guiseppe Tornatore – 1989], del Torro’s second feature wears its European look heavily on its shoulders and it works. Shots of the cobbler and his son are so exquisite they look painted and the church interiors reek of gothic malevolence. Scenes of the young boy facing the (largely unseen) foe are amongst the most tense of any this year. Where it all falls apart however, is the conflict between the subtle tension of a well crafted gothic horror film (the pre-credit sequence is worth the price of admission alone) and the glitsy ‘Big Bug’ special effects. Additionally there are a number of intriguing plot strands left dangling, while the ‘Aliens’ [James Cameron – 1986] style running-down-corridors shenanigans are pushed to the fore. Ultimately you have the reverse of the Hollywood problem here, in most Hollywood films you sit through the talk/tension and wait for the action, here you want the action to end so that the real film can be given the space it needs to breathe.

‘Godzilla’ (Roland Emmerich)- What on Earth possessed someone to take one of cinema’s greats and ruin it? From now on Gojira is Gojira and Godzilla sucks. A challenge: Can anyone to come up with a single reason why expensive CGI was used when a rubber suit kicks ass every time?

Mineralism

Just in case the use of insects as arch-enemies could be construed as any less than entirely politically correct, Hollywood seems to have reached the conclusion that only the inanimate should have any chance of destroying the world, so that absolutely no offence can be inferred by anyone, not even entomologists. Mind you, rocks have rights too….

‘Armageddon’ (Michael Bay) – ‘Titanic’ may well have been given all the press for its extreme budget but minute for minute ‘Armageddon’ was the pricey one. A reputed $160 million was spent to bring this ‘vision’ to your local multiplex and the opening few minutes are indeed promising in their brainless wonder. Having watched the dinosaurs being wiped out by a large meteor, we swiftly cut (‘160 million years later’ the subtitle helpfully informs us) to New York, just in time to watch that get impressively wasted too, along with an ‘oh-so-funny’ Godzilla toy mauling gag, just in time to realise that there’s a REALLY big meteor heading right for us. Just as we seem to be set on course, the film veers wildly for the next hour or so for a ‘build up’ (read ‘boring bits’) as we view the unlikely spectacle of podgy Mr Willis and his band of merry oil platform workers limber up for confrontation with a large rock, a task unsuitable for those with engineering or astrophysics qualifications, space travel experience or brains. Stereotype plot strands are introduced including the ever popular ‘I was a bad father but I’ll prove I’m worthy by going into space’ scenario and daughter’s love affair with the virile soundtrack-enhanced oilmeister hothead. After this tedium we can get on with the rock bashing, male work naturally, so the daughter/lover gets to watch at mission control and whimper while the men folk save the world, pausing only to wreck the Mir spacestation and pick up the most embarrassingly overacting Russian crazy in the history of motion pictures. To be fair, ‘Armageddon’ is not meant to be realistic or artistic, as it proudly states. It is patriotic ‘bad’ entertainment for the masses and on that level it works. It is loud, big, brusque and filled with rock ballads and big sfx. It is at times tense, silly, exciting and pathetic, often all at once, and there are more plot holes than craters in the meteor . But who cares? It’s one for the cinema and those who missed it there will be well advised to avoid any video release – the sheer scale of the exercise will be lost and the thought-deafening soundtrack diminished, leaving you with just an embarrassing stain on your television.

‘Deep Impact’ (Mimi Leder) – like Deep Heat really; costs you a fiver, calms you for a couple of hours and smells bad.

Vampires

You can wait years and years for a half decent vampire film, then what do you know, two come along at once, although it’s difficult to class these in the same category, far removed as they are in both style, content and execution. Add to this the intriguing, intelligent “Ultraviolet” on the small screen and you have a sucking good selection of undead morsels.

‘Blade’ (Stephen Norrington) was Hollywood’s attempt at updating the Vampire myth, while simultaneously trying to prove that its swordplay scenes can rival those of Hong Kong cinema. It can’t compete with HK (it doesn’t come close), but the film does work rather well in its own right. Blade (Wesley Snipes), half human, half vampire is on a mission to rid the world of the undead, particularly a new ‘lower class’ breed, led by Frost (Stephen Dorff of Space Truckers (1997) fame) who have broken away from their traditional lifestyle and are now intent on excessive partying and the eradication of all the stuffy vampire elders. Oh, and world domination. It’s more of a die fast, live young existence.

The films works perfectly well as a piece of solid Hollywood entertainment and not much more. It’s fast paced, action packed and engaging throughout; not particularly scary however, the main problem being that the vampires seem to have a much better time than our hero, so it’s hardly surprising that you end up siding with them instead.

Where ‘Blade’ attempts to subvert the vampire myth, ‘Razorblade Smile’ (Jake West) embraces it with loving arms and a warm vampire kiss. A British production filmed on a minuscule budget, but with access to decent post production equipment, ‘Razorblade Smile’ is a film made with genuine love and affection for the genre. Lilith Silver (Eileen Daly), a vampire “born” a couple of Centuries ago, is a hit woman by day and fraternises with vampire wannabes in seedy clubs by night, mainly to relieve the boredom of being able to live for eternity. She becomes involved with killing members of an Illuminatus sect, who are naturally rather irritated and thus begins a game of cat and mouse which may lead her into more danger than she realises. This is her story and in the many direct to camera scenes, she is draws the audience into her world to confirm or dispell myths about her vampirism. A tight plot, with a genuine twist at the end, and stunningly designed throughout, it is a great pity that the film is fundamentally flawed. Although Eileen Daly (the model from the Redemption video label) looks quite delicious in full fetish gear, she cannot act and unfortunately the rest of the cast range from wooden to formica (David Warbeck excepted). It’s mean to denigrate the film at such a base level, but it does detract from what should have been a fantastic rollicking romp. B+ for effort.

Conspiracy

They’re coming to get you……

‘Truman Show’ [Peter Weir] – Gattaca’s script writer meets Peter Weir & Jim Carey in shockingly good film. Carey’s character, Truman Burbank lives a perfect middle class life in a lovely island-based small American town. Sure, he has a few hang ups, his job isn’t so great, but generally he’s a pretty contented and jovial kind of a guy. What he doesn’t know however, is that he is the star of the longest continually running TV show in America and that millions of people are watching his whole life second by second. The slow realisation that his life is a soap is tense and moving, Carey perfectly cast to portray 1950’s “Hi honey I’m home” wholesomeness with intense paranoia, enhanced by the audience’s privileged position outside of Truman’s world. Lovingly crafted with some superb spy camera angles and subtle escalation of pace, ‘The Truman Show’s’ ace card lies in its adoption of a hopeful existential ending.

‘End of Violence’/’City of Angels’ [Brad Silberling]/’Enemy of the State’ – A filmmaker who used to make good films is Wim Wenders, one time darling of the art circuit and New German Cinema’s main export following the untimely death of Rainer Werner Fassbinder. He adapted American genres to give them a wholly European outlook before developing into a true master with ‘Das Himmel Uber Berlin’ (1987 aka ‘Wings of Desire’) a film painfully remade this year as ‘City of Angels’ with Meg Ryan and Nicholas Cage. Top tip: rent the Wenders version. Since then it seems that Wenders has been kidnapped by aliens and replaced by some poor misguided husk. His only saving grace was the under-rated ‘Until The End of the World’ [1991], a truly epic science fiction film that originally ran close to eight hours but had to be cut down to three. ‘End of Violence’ sees a return to form with its reflective but disjointed style, a gradually unfolding tale of conspiracy and treachery. Taking its cue from spy satellite paranoia, Wender’s piece features a gruesome puzzle concerning adaptive SDI technology and some headless bodies, manipulative highfliers and obsessive film producers. If, as he has stated, this is a call for the end of cinema violence he has failed, but as a thought provoking piece of Euro-paranoia it deserves repeat viewing. Wenders artfest covers similar ground to the deafening ‘Enemy of the State’ (Tony Scott), a mix of every Jerry Bruckenheimer production and Coppola’s ‘The Conversation’[Francis Ford Coppola – 1974] with an hysterical level of computer based surveillance complementing a politically motivated murder revealed at the beginning. Indeed the whole film is revealed in the opening credit sequence, a wonderful montage of pixellated security footage, although the viewer only pieces this together in the next two hours. This is exciting and gripping stuff, the plot never patronises and Will Smith makes a sympathetic and believable lead. Also, surprisingly, it attempts to make a number of political points regarding government control – a case of watching some action without leaving your brain in traction. Also worth a watch is Brian de Palma’s ‘Snake Eyes’ – Nicholas Cage in a “let’s see that again from a different angle” multi-layered assassination piece.

Bright, Bold And Brash

‘The Avengers’ (Jeremiah Chechik) – Critical mauling of the year, if not the decade, went to The Avengers, the medium budget update of the cult sixties and seventies favourite. It is hard to believe the amount of vitriol levelled at this amiable, if heavily flawed, fun film. Taking its fashion from the Emma Peel days (Uma Thurman yet again going for the queen of fetishism crown) and its plot from the Tara King episodes, ‘The Avengers’ wisely sticks to the spirit of the series in its gleeful celebration of English eccentricity and pop art surrealism. Indeed the main problem that can be levelled at the film commercially, is that it is all but impenetrable to the American market in which it needs to succeed. Lines like “St. Swithun, he’s the patron saint of weather” do little to explain cultural references to the uninitiated and patronise the rest of the audience. What is left is a double entendre laden funfest of dayglo costumes, mad technology and aristocratic settings, the Britain of a parallel universe still recovering from an acid dazed sixties. Everyone involved is clearly enjoying themselves and this is infectious, the sight of Sean Connery declaring world domination to a room of brightly coloured teddybears (to disguise their true identities, of course) is hysterical in all senses of the term and recalls the very best excesses of top Avengers writer Brian Clemens (who, amongst many others, penned the Hammer sexchanging horror classic ‘Dr Jekyll & Sister Hyde’ [Roy Ward Barker – 1971] ). The flaws are numerous, and the plot holes gaping, but ‘The Avengers’ is sheer fun from beginning to end. Treat yourself to a self indulgent 90 minute smirk of a movie, you deserve it.

Greg Arraki’s ‘Nowhere’ is the ultimate slacker movie, but with an added sf ingredient that makes it all the more enticing . A portrait (well graffiti) of a community of kooky teens ranging from the streetwise, the more streetwise younger siblings, the shy-sensitive types, the vacuous image obsessives, all with no other purpose in life than to sleep with each other, consume copious quantities of drugs and party all night long. In a society where image is everything, their world is dominated by intense colour, outrageous clothes, designer decor and tv indoctrination, so it’s hardly surprising that a passing alien (in designer rubber suit) wants to get in on the action.

Although their nihilistic world is thoroughly depressing in its lack of values for anything, the film itself is a total scream, thoroughly engaging and a beautifully designed reflection of modern teen society – live for today, who cares what happens tomorrow?

The obvious parallels for this film are Kevin Smith’s seminal slacker masterpieces ‘Clerks’ (1994) and ‘Mallrats’ (1995). However, important differences lie in the respective societies created by each director. In Smith’s works, the characters have dropped out or exist on the periphery of a society we recognise; they may reside within their own fantasy worlds, but they still have to cope with life. Arraki’s world though, is completely self-contained, there is no hint of a context , apparently no need even for money as everything seems to be provided, it is simply outlandish. Also displaying shades of Richard Linklater and John Waters, this is definitely the cult science fiction film of the year, but don’t take your granny.

Simply Classic

“Gem of the Year” award without doubt goes to ‘Gattaca’ (Andew Nichol). With the unpromising tag line “There is no gene for the human spirit” and no hype to raise audience awareness, ‘Gattaca’ depicts an Orwellian world, set in the not too distant future, where genetic engineering has advanced to the stage that peoples whole lives are determined by their DNA. The story follows Vincent Freeman (Ethan Hawke), born with a heart defect (his parents didn’t risk a natural conception with his younger brother) whose sole ambition is to travel into space. Clearly unable to be considered for such a job with his genetic record, he has to assume the identity of a genetically perfect man and work his way into the Gattaca corporation. However, the world has changed dramatically with inspections routinely performed on every individual, everywhere; identity has become everything.

The most inspiring aspect of ‘Gattaca’ is that although filmed on a tiny budget, it is rich in resourcefulness and intelligent in execution, at no stage is the audience patronised by cod science or brainwashed with flashy techniques. Beautifully photographed with no special effects (apart from one piece of stock footage), the film owes its ambience to cinematographer Slawomir Idziak. Additionally, the production design created by Jan Roelfs, who was responsible for many of Peter Greenaway’s films, gives the film a gentle, subtle tone reminiscent of de Stijl abstractions.

The subject matter too is relevant in so many aspects – the technology isn’t science fiction anymore, and with people aiming to become more beautiful and intelligent, insurance companies already probing into clients’ genetic histories, many firms performing routine checks on their employees, it is quite worrying how close our society has become to that portrayed in the film.

The Idiots – not SF, not out officially until next Summer and unlikely to escape the BBFC unscathed, Lars von Trier’s celluloid equivalent of ‘did you spill my pint?’ is a masterpiece ‘by idiots, about idiots, for idiots’. Find a film festival, take all your friends and relations to see it, you’ll either have plenty to talk about or they won’t be speaking to you. Even if you hate it you’ll find out how to cadge a free meal afterwards so what’s to lose? Ken Loach meets John Waters, in Denmark.

The year got off to a flying start with Mars Attacks! (1996). Tim Burton’s films tend to fall into either of two categories – weird, but solid commercial cinema, or truly bizarre labours of love – both of which bear the markings of his inimitable style. But the personal films, although generally better, never seem to succeed at the Box Office. Mars Attacks! was intended to fall into the former category, but inadvertently leapt into the latter with a gleeful thud. Based on a series of Bubblegum Cards from the 1950s, this is a sick and audacious stormer of a film. The Martians decide to conquer the Earth – ‘Nice Planet – We’ll Take It’- which is just what they do. They have no sense of morality, there is no justification for the attack and certainly no chance of an apology. This sets the agenda for a relentless assault of sick visual skits as pious humans, particularly those in power, attempt to ‘embrace’ and ‘welcome’ a new culture, and the Martians simply torture or destroy everything in their path.

Although there is no real need for a storyline, attention to the human element is focused on a small number of characters, typical Burtonesque misfits, scattered across America, who eventually pull through and stop the invasion by the most bizarre means yet devised in such a film. Burton always challenges what is socially acceptable, and characters portrayed as ‘normal’ are invariably the bad guys of the piece; indeed, in this film their respective demises provide some of the most satisfying comedy sequences. It is the unusual, the unacceptable, the awkward that triumphs; all the heroes are lacking in some way. Many of the top actors were simply dying (Jack Nicholson, twice) to get involved with the project, often appearing in little more than cameo roles.

The most important element of this film, however, lies in its manic pace, sheer nerve and downright silliness. This is reflected in the Martians themselves. They have enormous heads, pathetically puny bodies (with rather fetching red underpants), manic eyes, inane grins and, although computer generated, move as though they have been animated in a stop motion style (a tribute to Ray Harryhausen) which somehow makes them appear less virtual and their interaction with the human characters more convincing and sinister. They stole the show and, in an age where society is becoming increasingly moral, it was absolutely great to see a film which displayed total disregard for nineties sensibilities in favour of the bizarre, the irreverent and the manic.

Star Wars: A New Hope (1977) was possibly one of the most influential science-fiction films ever made. Years in the planning with dozens of rewrites of the script, Star Wars was always destined to be great because it had a powerful story, sympathetic but not necessarily virtuous heroes, terrifyingly evil villains, revolutionary special effects and a certain, indefinable sense of wonder. Which is why it didn’t need to be tarted up with CGI. Sure, the restoration was a joy; the print gleamed and the sound was spectacular, but the addition of extra scenes and a formerly prohibitively expensive Jabba the Hut, created in no time by the miracles of modern technology, detracted from the work’s force (if you will), which was that it was a Ripping Yarn of the very best sort.

The Empire Strikes Back (1980), however, did benefit from its restoration. It was the transitional film, where the ‘action’ climax occurred at the beginning and the ending contained one of the most exciting revelations in cinema history, yet left everything so painfully and unsatisfactorily unresolved. It is rare to see this in any film, particularly one that was guaranteed commercial success, but it is because of this that it remains the most powerful of the trilogy. [Director Kevin Smith presumably agrees: ‘Empire had the better ending. Luke loses his hand and finds out Vader is his father. Han is frozen and captured by Boba Fett. It ends on such a down note. Just like in real life. All Jedi had was a bunch of Muppets.’ Clerks (1994) — Eds].

Return of the Jedi (1981) never had the impact of its predecessors. It was the film where everything was resolved for good and, although well made, it never captured the dark hopelessness of the former two at any time. This was not helped by the Ewoks who were just too damned cute for the film’s good. Adding extra minutes of ‘family entertainment’ into the restoration was the final insult.

Still, it was wonderful to have the opportunity to see the films on the big screen once more, and they were introduced to a new generation, which can’t be a bad thing. It also conveniently sets the publicity machine moving for the three long-awaited prequels which are currently in production…

Stuart Gordon’s Space Truckers (1997) slipped in and out of the multiplexes so quickly last Summer that you could be forgiven for missing its presence, which is great pity as it was one of the highlights of the year. Ditching any attempt to be treated as serious, Space Truckers hurls you from one ludicrous set piece to the next without pausing for tea. Dennis Hopper plays the good guy for a change and for once does not overshadow all in his wake; as John Canyon his job is about as unglamorous as it gets – transporting genetically enhanced pork products for InterPork around the galaxy stopping only to lunch out in greasy intergalactic highway service stations. Life, as we suspect, does not rest in this cosy existence, oh no. Mr Canyon has to leave behind the high gloss world of piggy snacks and get on with saving the galaxy aided only by hitch hikers Mike (Stephen Dorff) and Cindy (Debi Mazar). With his space truck at the ready, our illustrious heroes do battle with high finance, nasty BMWs (Bio-Mechanical Warriors) and the Regalia, a massive jet black (light just falls off it…) pirate ship.

What sets Space Truckers apart from the normal sf spoof is that it treats its subject seriously, but not the action. Zero gravity is just that (achieved here with subtle wire work courtesy of Koichi Sakamoto of A Chinese Ghost Story fame), vacuum quite literally sucks and things look, well, grimy. All of this makes for a believable and coherent setting, which makes the appearance of arch villain Captain Macanudo (Charles Dance in a Ming the Merciless beating performance) all the more amusing. Captain Macanudo’s outrageous double entendres and pneumatic penis make for one of the screens most bizarre baddies, a sort of RoboCodpiece. It is this gung ho pace that creates a real Saturday Morning Serial appeal. This is not to say that the effects have in any way been compromised, far from it. Attention to detail is high throughout, the screen crammed with lurid advertising, groups of vicious ‘keep left’ signs and intergalactic highway beacons.

Highly recommended for good, solid fun. Rent a copy today or, better still, hope it comes around at a rep cinema near you.

Words cannot accurately reflect the travesty that was The Lost World: Jurassic Park. The film had only its special effects to recommend it, and this is a very poor substitute for quality film making. Spielberg has shown in the past how adept he is at controlling composition, suspense and sympathetic characterisation, but all these skills have been sharply curtailed to give us a rambling, overblown, incoherent mess of a film. There is little sense of the wonder that enthused in ET – the Extraterrestrial (1982) or Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977), none of the adrenaline of the Indiana Jones films and none of the suspense of Duel (1971) or Jaws (1975). The script is atrocious, its laughable attempts at political correctness are cringeworthy and the foreshadowing juvenile, the characterisation is defined by stereotypes and the action, for want of a better term, is formulaic and unconvincing. And then there is the acting. Dear old Dicky Attenborough should stick to directing crowd scenes. Jeff Goldblum alternates between Brandoesque mumblings and ‘gee whiz’ hyper scientist. The only redeeming performance comes from Vanessa Lee Chester as the child interest; a wonderful career ahead of her, she is shot by the starting pistol. The camerawork too, is lacklustre and ineffectual; it is currently trendy to use handheld camerawork to emphasise dynamism and audience point of view participation, but even this is sloppy and confusing and appears to have been sprinkled randomly throughout the proceedings without due attention to necessity.

Individual lowlights included the sadistic and extended pursuit/torture of an unsympathetic character ending in an off-screen ‘money shot’ with what looks suspiciously like CGI blood in the water; a ludicrous van over the cliff with tyrannosaurus sketch that obliterates credibility; a pointless King Kong rampage scene, much touted but ultimately very dull; and finally a totally inadequate ‘bad guy come upance’ scene.

To be fair, the effects were spectacular and Stan Winston’s latex dinosaurs superb, far more organic than their (admittedly impressive) CGI counterparts. Even the music lacked the avant garde primal dominance of its predecessor. In conclusion The Lost World: Jurassic Park is like censored pornography: it satisfies no-one.

Men In Black (1997) was the surprise hit of the year, mainly due to the fact that all the ‘Summer Blockbusters’ were either too chicken to compete with other releases or too crap even for the studio’s generated hype to drum up business (Batman and Robin, for example, an classic example of a budget blown on actors [Schwarzenegger, Clooney and even O’Donnell, Silverstone and Thurman] and effects, and nobody thought to buy a plot). A short, snappy little number, Men In Black pairs up (Will) Smith and (Tommy Lee) Jones as the secret government agents that oversee the activities of real illegal aliens, that is, tourists from other worlds.

Its attempt at plausibility works well, most aliens can cunningly disguise themselves in human form, and any unsuspecting soul who inadvertently comes across such a being in its ‘natural state’ can receive a memory wipe, thus dealing with any associated trauma. Earth seems to be a popular place to visit and in general the aliens are well behaved. However, there are always some irritating tourists that give the rest a bad name and one has decided to run riot in someone else’s body. Add the mystery of a missing galaxy and things start to get strange…

So, the day has to be saved and there are only two men qualified to do it. Cue the visual gags (particularly where aliens are concerned), hi-tech gadgets and military hardware, with time for some (but not a vast amount) of love interest. Narrative is not an issue here, there’s no need for any deep meaning philosophy; it’s simply a licence for the film-makers to go mad with their imagination and humour. Which is basically what they did.

The concept was good and the film was enjoyable to watch, but bearing in mind the material available, could have been quite a bit more manic. It suffered from a very fast paced trailer, which gave away all the best jokes and indeed the ending.

David Lynch’s Lost Highway (1997) falls into familiar love or loathe territory. On board for a second outing is writer Barry Gifford, who scripted Lynch’s Wild At Heart (1990), and it is clear that the two of them work exceptionally well together. Gifford’s books explore the minutia of every character’s existence, they are all given equal weight and suitably bizarre idiosyncrasies, nothing is extraneous. Similarly Lynch’s films enjoy exploring the surreal details of everyday life and extending them to absurdity. They also share a similar love of macabre humour and the satisfaction of coincidence.

In Lost Highway the main protagonist, Fred Madison, is accused of the brutal murder of his wife following the appearance of voyeuristic videotapes that have brought him to the brink of paranoia. But this is no Hitchcockian ‘innocent man on the run’ film. Fred is confused, persecuted and watched, he is placed in prison, and there he becomes his younger self, or someone else, or mad. Lynch brings on his supporting cast like a ringmaster – Mr Eddy the rich pornographer with a novel way of reinforcing the Highway Code, the Mystery Man with his schizophrenic mobile phone and Mr Eddy’s girlfriend, complete with slow-mo diffusion and hug-me-tight fetishistic sweater. All the characters have a comfortingly familiar air; Lynch relaxes with them and eases their situations out deliberately and thoughtfully. Where this differs from his previous works is the total denial of structural realism and its replacement with mental realism – in this case the mental realism of a man beyond the edge. Changing a main character half way through a film is an audacious step; not even to be aware how much this new character is even new, stretches audience acceptance. As usual, Lynch does not compromise to win over new friends.

We are only allowed to see one world and it is incredibly strange – the (relatively few) deaths become more surreal and, perversely, more believable. The final truths are hard to cope with, obtuse and repellent.

In terms of cinematography the film excels – hyperfast blurry roads, effortless cranes, gorgeous close-up focusing and macabre lighting, the very essence of a cinematic experience. The contrast at times is very low with dark reds dripping against blacks on a wide screen.

Also of note is the astonishing soundtrack, Badalamenti (Lynch’s regular composer) delivers some of his sleaziest, laid back jazz/easy yet, which perfectly counterpoints the more driving industrial/metal on offer, here mixed by Trent Raznor of Nine Inch Nails fame.

Certainly not to everyone’s taste and in many respects an enormously difficult film to watch, but a fascinating, surreal and disturbing experience.

After a couple of false starts, John Woo finally has a Hollywood film under his belt that can stand alongside his astonishing Hong Kong films without shame and that film is Face/Off. Nicholas Cage is Castor Troy, evil, charismatic and treacherous. John Travolta is clean living Sean Archer, a police officer dedicated to hunting down Troy, who killed his son. The stage is set, and it’s operatic.

As is usual for a Woo film everything is larger: coats billow in loving slow motion, bodies fly through the air with choreographed grace, there’s beautiful imagery (The Killer’s doves and church resurface [1989]) and most importantly the deep, deep emotion dominates. Face/Off (1997) takes the Prince and the Pauper principle, perverts it and mixes in Franju’s Yeux Sans Les Visage (1959) (which being obscure and French clearly has no place on these hallowed pages [see David Lewis’s letter in Vector 197 and responses in this issue — Eds) to see Travolta’s good guy physically becoming Cage’s bad guy, and visa versa. All of this would seem a little far fetched were it not for the skill of both the actors and director, Travolta as Cage playing Travolta is remarkable and chilling, he wins his way into his new ‘family’ by charm and subversion, Cage does not have it so easy, stuck in prison as a man he is not, he is subjected to magnetic boots, unruly prisoners/guards and threats of lobotomy.

The world created is clearly defined, futuristic in every sense and yet contemporary enough to be recognisable, this is pure science fiction combined with Woo’s masterful action packed direction.

Science Fiction is an incredibly popular genre at the moment. So many films were produced last year that it was virtually impossible to select which to write about and there just has to be an ‘Honourable Mentions Section’.

Peter Jackson’s The Frighteners (1996) was strange and satisfying, a combination of fun and gore. It was certainly the most commercial of Jackson’s films to date, but hugely enjoyable.

The biggest spectacle produced was Luc Besson’s The Fifth Element (1997). Visually stunning, it created a bizarre world, beautifully designed but the film was ultimately flawed by casting.

Abel Ferrera created a small, but thoughtful black and white vampire film called The Addiction (1995).

Cronenberg’s and Ballard’s respective talents finally come together with Crash (1996), a simultaneously beautiful and repellent study of sex and the automobile.

Event Horizon (1997) was a nasty horror film set in space. Slick, sick and nauseous.

Alien: Resurrection (1997) suffered from having to carry the baggage of the previous films despite a worthy directing attempt from Jean Pierre Jeunet. Close, but no cigar.

So, a good year for sf films? Certainly from a Hollywood perspective – science fiction is definitely in fashion, the genre being a perfect medium for big budgets, fast action and special effects. It was interesting to see some of the well-respected directors, such as David Lynch, John Woo and Abel Ferrera making sf films and they have proved that it is possible to produce genre films that are intelligent and challenging, not simply packed with effects. Science-fiction comedy/spoof was also a big feature of 1997 and produced some truly enjoyable films.