lamps

One of the films I'd give anything to see in the cinema at the time of its release (or if I had a time machine, I'd just go round the premieres of these glorious blockbusters right after I'd been delighted by Helen of Troy). It's not perfect from a narrative standpoint, occasionally lingering on impressive visuals and leaving some of the plot with a question mark, but overall, it’s just a wonderful piece of adventure filmmaking that will never lose my deep favour. Harryhausen's much talked about effects are magical and simply vivid, and no film has been able to so compellingly portray ancient mythology and effortlessly bring together so many iconic mythical figures. And it doesn't have to be action-packed in the style of the moronic remake for the story to retain its dark tension and consistent atmosphere – the best example is the jellyfish passage, which wouldn't be out of place in Lord of the Rings. And Laurence Rosenthal composed one of the most beautiful film soundtracks... Deserved cult status. 85%

Although it's out of place, I can't avoid the comparison; as far as I’m concerned, Aliens is more creative and entertaining than the first one. Cameron is amazing, he elevated an already perfect space survival story to the ultimate polished and incredibly balanced action flick. In the manner of the original, it’s almost heart-attack inducingly suspenseful (you almost can't breathe during the sequence before the first contact with the monsters), but at the same time it's adrenaline-fuelled and superbly choreographed terror for film and computer geeks (so it's quite timeless), and still a prime example of how to use film space with maximum efficiency and how to work with characters in an action story where most of them have to gradually disappear, inventing a variety of traps in line with keeping the pace and delaying the climax in favour of a moment of surprise to the point of being outrageously sexy and cool. An amazing Weaver and a brilliant Henriksen. Together with The Dark Knight and T2, the best sequel ever.

Sure, it lacks the dark cynicism and balance of the previous episodes, and Joe Pesci will seem like completely redundant to some, but I just adore this series and its characters. I love how the relationships between them keep developing and transcending from film to film, and I adore the banter of the central duo, which is taken to the pinnacle of imaginable "buddy" fun right here (and, of course, in The Last Boy Scout, which still has a flagpole at the top and no one will ever climb higher). The ferocious barrage of funny dialogue never stops, Rene Russo fits in perfectly and takes Riggs just a little bit further, the detective storyline intersects with the personal one casually and seamlessly, and when the film wants to go dark temporarily in the style of its predecessors, it works (and gives the great Glover his due). And even Pesci is very funny again... I love it.

The story is like a see-saw: uninteresting and even cringe moments are followed by genuinely funny and even touching passages at the end, which I always like to remember. And I remember them even more fondly when they featured the traditionally charismatic Walken or Kate Beckinsale in panties (which is still probably the prettiest imaginable scene in Hollywood history). It's a shame about the uneven first half, which dulls many of the motifs and overwhelms them with unnecessary quick gags, and the stupidly violent happy ending – with this subject and cast, it was meant to be an endlessly clever and inspiring film, not an occasionally funny and tryingly deep fairytale that eventually trips over its own feet. 65%

Fully appreciated after a second viewing (and in the restored version in the cinema). I still feel that I would have to watch it at least twice more to clarify my uncritical enthusiasm and to come up with better superlatives than "Kubrick was just different", but I can say that you probably won't find a more beautifully filmed biography in any film archive. Kubrick not only paints the screen better than Bertolucci, but above all, with a clever helping of amusingly ironic commentary, he narrates with complete mastery, elevating a three-hour personal portrait to the highest cinematic art with every thoughtful cut or musical accompaniment, like a bubble in a spirit level maintaining the demanding rhythm of the narration. While the first two thirds are unmatched for their quicker changes of location and major twists, the final family section is not lacking in stunning formal precision, and its thoughtful denouement surpasses even the similarly paced conclusion of Gone with the Wind. And once again, I have to marvel at how fantastic the film looks and how superbly it orchestrates everything on the mise-en-scène, so that the camera mostly just needs slow zooms or horizontal runs – for example, in the card scene, it's fascinating that only one character ever looks up from the table while the others have their eyes downcast. And the icing on the cake is the excellent performance of Ryan O'Neal. Yeah, Kubrick was just different.

Narratively, it’s awkwardly segmented bollocks where the occasional attempt at a more serious approach and the incompetence of the villains is even more blatant, but it's still impossible to say no to it. Francis Veber, after all, has always been great at delivering gags and entertaining by combining two disparate characters, and in that sense, Shut Up! is his most accomplished work. Reno and Depardieu make such an amazing duo that they could make you laugh with the sound off, and there are perhaps more memorable lines here than in any Zucker brothers' movie. It moves along nicely, we're comfortable with the characters, and when we watch it again, knowing the jokes doesn't stop us from enjoying this non-committal banter between two iconic actors and a famous director in equal measure. And that makes for one hell of a comedy.

In the past, this epic Homeric soap opera was enough to make me ecstatic, but times have changed. Troy looks gorgeous, has sequences that can be replayed to the point of insanity, and an unprecedentedly bloated and luxurious cast (except for Legolas, who’s awful again), but the film overestimates itself. While Petersen has confirmed many times that he’s a very capable director, here he has completely forgotten to provide any cohesive parallel developments that would keep the viewer's attention focused for two and a half hours and build the whole mythical conflict up to a scale of fatality higher than the staid Pearl Harbor-type level. The truly impressive adrenaline-packed sequences are interspersed with dull to uninteresting ones, which establish and develop relationships between characters of no importance to the main plot (and this despite the fact that the characters themselves are great – the narcissistic Pitt is brilliant, the chivalrous Bana is an exemplary good guy, Brian Cox is a sleazy villain, and Sean Bean should have been given his own sequel as the likeable Ulysses –  I'll never forgive Hollywood for that). Taken together, it stands as a beautifully made spectacle for the cinema, but its soul is as empty as the stomachs of Somali children, despite its grandeur. 65%

Capturing in 100 minutes all the different emotional states of two young people is not easy and sometimes it grinds a bit, but that doesn't diminish the greatness of this movie. The pacing is amazing in the first half and we are comfortable with the characters, only to slow down considerably in the second half as the voluminous social and familial ideas weigh on the viewer. And although the second half failed to hold my attention consistently, the resulting feelings are strong and positive enough. In the 1920s, definitely the best motivation for life that Americans could imagine on the movie screen.

A monumental fantasy tale that has it all: thieves, princesses, evil rulers and monsters in the underworld, and strangely enough, it holds together much better than the date of manufacture would make you believe. Fairbanks was not only a great equilibrist but also cool bloke (a kind of Belmondo of the silent era), and Walsh had storytelling running in his veins. If it were half an hour shorter, I'd be jumping in joy, but even so, it's very balanced relaxing entertainment where it's hard to find any downright laughable filmmaking failure.

If there is one single example of a film that is both excellent and thematically important, it is Schindler's List. Where else could you feel the indescribable horror and shame of the human deeds you have just seen, photographed in the most horrifying but at the same time most beautiful black and white composition imaginable? The scene with the little girl in the red coat, walking as a symbol of colourful innocence through pure hell, is probably the most powerful I have ever seen in a film, and it brings tears to my eyes every time; and even if it was the only one in the whole movie, I'd still never get this film out of my head – but it's not, not even close. Masterpiece.