Reviews

This film is advertised as a comedy, and that is the biggest joke of all. It is dull, flat, routine, uninspired and full of boring characters and equally uninteresting actors. Funny it it not, embarrassing it most certainly is. The humour falls flat on its face and the sentimental episodes are toe-curlingly cringe-making. It falls into the "what were they thinking of when they made this" category. Pity the poor projectionist (me) who had to run this waste of film. And it seems now that you cannot see a movie without Michael Douglas popping up somewhere. Is he really so short of money that he has to appear in dross like this? Or is he trying to prove something? Perhaps the latter - it goes with the cosmetic surgery. Talking of which, as I said in my notes on The Sentinel, the most interesting part of a Michael Douglas film is trying to spot the face-lift scars.

A critic recently described modern films as overpaid people running away from explosions. With, he could have added, a liberal dose of helicopters and swarms of armed response police teams. The basic story line of "The Sentinel" is so trite and has featured in so many movies that you wonder why anyone would ever want to trot it out again. Presumably, it is just a cynical means of lining the pockets of all concerned. The direction is uninspired, unimaginative and strictly formulaic. The film is far too long and could easily lose half an hour. And, as with so many modern movies, the music score is as overblown as it is dull. As one of the previous reviewers stated, this should have gone straight to television or video. You know you are watching a bad film when you are spending more time trying to spot Michael Douglas's cosmetic surgery scars than you are following the plot.

Despite the hype at the time of its release, this musical offering was never particularly good and, if you are expecting to hear any classic sixties tracks, then go and buy a CD. For the most part the music consists of numbers which you would be disappointed to find on the 'B' side of a single. The dancing is similarly uninspired - the usual (for the time) jumping up and down and from side to side with arms outstretched, rather like a manic aerobics session. The love triangle and older versus younger generation plot is simplistic. The acting is variable with stalwarts such as Ron Moody, Liz Fraser and Michael Ripper there to balance the less able pop artistes. However, as a piece of sixties nostalgia,particularly with its holiday camp setting, the film is well worth a look and Freddie and the Dreamers are always value for money.

"It's A Great Day" was based on an early British television series, "The Grove Family", first transmitted in 1954 and apparently named after the BBC's Lime Grove Studio where it was filmed. The script for the film was written by Roland and Michael Pertwee, father and brother of Jon Pertwee, a stalwart of British cinema, television and radio, now best remembered as one of the many incarnations of Dr. Who. The film features all the original television cast members.

The film is a typical quota quickie spin-off from a television series. For those of you unfamiliar with the term "quota quickie", a word of explanation. After the War, Britain was an economic mess. In order to stem the flow of box office takings to Hollywood and to encourage the production of home-made pictures, a quota system was introduced under which a fixed percentage of footage shown in every cinema had to be British. Unfortunately, this rather backfired and the market was flooded with cheap and poorly made films which, despite being frequently unwatchable, were virtually guaranteed a showing. The quota was strictly enforced and many cinemas ended up in court for failure to meet its requirements. It is reported that some of the more prestigious cinemas partly fulfilled the requirements by showing these films to the cleaners first thing in the morning! Despite its humble origins and low budget, an effort was made to instil some drama, suspense and humour into the film and it would no doubt have appealed to that quarter of the British population, who regularly watched the series on television.

The story revolves around the patriarch of the family, building contractor Bob Grove, who is desperately trying to find floor tiles to complete the council housing estate, which is shortly to be opened by Princess Margaret. He is particularly keen to finish the job, as he and his family are on the guest list to meet the Princess. Although the film was made a decade after the war finished, it was only in that year that all restrictions on building materials were finally lifted and many materials were still in short supply. In his innocence Bob buys stolen tiles from crook Charlie Mead, an acquaintance of his son Jack.

The Borough Surveyor does not like Bob and, when he suspects that the tiles were stolen, he sets the police on Bob and rescinds the invitation to meet the Princess. Although Bob is finally exonerated, it is too late to get back on the guest list – but then – guess whose house Princess Margaret's representative has chosen for her to visit for afternoon tea? So, all ends well.

Along the way, we are treated to son Jack's and daughter Pat's romantic interludes, young Lennie's dangerous escapade on some unstable scaffolding and numerous acerbic, and very humorous, asides from Gran, played admirably by Nancy Roberts.

Nowadays, the film is of more interest as a nostalgic piece of 1950's family life – the extended family with the crotchety old granny sitting in the corner making critical comments; the parents in their forties, who look a ten years older; the somewhat stiff and respectful relationship between parents and children; the reverence in which the royal family was held; and, of course, the décor, furnishings, clothes, cars etc.

This film is one for the nostalgia buffs and those interested in early British television. Like many of the quota quickies, it is very parochial, and would be unlikely to travel well. It turns up from time to time in one of the lesser satellite channels and is certainly much more entertaining than the majority of the other quota quickies shown.

In the film "Ed Wood", producer George Weiss admits he is not interested in making classy films, just cheap crap. Ed Wood tells him that he can get him a real star for one of his pictures to which George Weiss replies "So, you've got crap with a star".

The remake of "War of the Worlds" falls pretty much into this category, but as well as stars it has tens of millions of dollars worth of CGI effects.

Perhaps it is supposed to reflect the times with divorce rates going through the roof and one parent families mushrooming, but I am at a loss to see the relevance of this to the story. All I can say is that, in Tom Cruise's shoes, I certainly would have fought tooth and nail NOT to have custody of Dakota Fanning. Within a couple of minutes of her first opening her mouth, I was hoping against hope that this whining petulant brat would fall victim to the Martians' heat ray - and I mean Dakota Fanning, not the character she plays.

And when will film makers realise that, no matter how seamless the special effects, it's the story that counts? Only when suckers like me stop spending good money going to see their limp offerings, I suppose.

I saw the film at the cinema and was later given the DVD as a Christmas present. I haven't bothered to watch it yet. Life's too short.

OK, so the special effects are not always that special, though better than many of the period, the story line is routine, though again no worse than that of similar films, and the acting is as one would expect for a film of this type. But, ask yourself, were you bored by it? At least Bert Gordon kept the action going and there were very few dull spots in his films. A lot of modern directors could learn how to pace their films from some of the old B movie directors.

Compare that to the overblown, overlong, CGI laden sci-fi "epics" to which we are currently subjected - and I know which I would prefer.

At the end of the day which is the better film - one made on a shoestring which entertains, or one costing a hundred million dollars which has you looking forward to the end credits?

"Overlord" follows the experience of a young soldier from his induction into the army up to his participation in Operation Overlord, the D-Day landings.

Beautifully photographed in black and white, the film weaves archive footage seamlessly into the fabric of the story and captures, not only the look, but the very essence of the period.

Until the closing moments, the protagonist is not involved in any fighting. What we see are the minutiae of life for a young soldier being trained and waiting to go into battle – the marching and military exercises; a trip to the cinema and the local village dance, where he meets his first girlfriend; the eve of battle, when he writes his last letter home, fills in the standard army issue will form, and burns all the private papers which he is not permitted to take into battle lest they fall into enemy hands and give away some information of use to the enemy. These small personal details give the film an emotional depth and a feeling for the times, which most war films made in the post war period fail to do.

When voting for this film, it is necessary to distinguish between the wonderful clips, which are the work of others, and the way in which they are presented, which is the work of the producer and director of "That's Dancing".

The majority of clips are excellent, although they do not always represent the stars' best work, presumably because certain excerpts had been used before or were not available for copyright or other reasons. For example the Nicholas Brothers' routine in "Orchestra Wives" is infinitely better than their appearance here.

The same cannot be said for the presentation. One expects to have to watch various presenters spouting a certain amount of bland dialogue, but do they really have to keep up the commentaries during the dances? Some are fairly unintrusive, but others, such as the one which punctuates "42nd Street", completely ruin the routines.

Film clips - 9, presentation -4.

"Variety Parade" is simply a filmed record of British variety (vaudeville) acts of the 1930s. As such it gives a fascinating and nostalgic glimpse, not only of the performers, but of a way of life and style of entertainment from a byegone era.

As a Brit, I have to confess to being miffed about this movie showing the Americans capturing the enigma machine. Film is a powerful medium and there must be many out there who believe what they saw on the screen - that is, if they were able to sit through two hours of appalling drivel. What next - the Americans sinking the Bismarck and winning the battle of Britain even before they entered World War II? But the question remains - Why?

For some reason film reviewers have created and now perpetuate the myth that this is a remake of the 1958 Bert Gordon film. Apart from the title, the Arkoff connection and the odd "in" reference (the leading character's surname is Kemmer - see cast list for the 1958 film), this dreadful tv movie has nothing whatsoever to do with the cult classic original. A cross between "Spiderman" and "The Fly", this uninspired and boring time-waster has a weak script, poor sets and a barely adequate cast. The make-up is reasonable but, despite the gap of nearly half a century, the special effects are nowhere near as good as those of the 1958 version - and Bert Gordon's films were not known for their lavish special effects budgets. Don't fail to miss it!

"From Hell" is a wonderfully evocative movie and, as the identity of the Ripper will never be known, the makers are at liberty to speculate. But why do they have to alter the facts and add pointless embellishments when the real facts of the case are so dramatic?

Grape stalks were not found by the bodies of any of the victims. The women killed by the Ripper did not need the incentive of a few grapes - they were so desperately poor that they had to earn a few pence for a bed in a cheap lodging house.

What dramatic point is served by making Inspector Abberline an opium addict, who dies young from his addiction? The real Abberline lived to 86! And, while Johnny Depp does a reasonable cockney accent (for an American), Abberline was born and brought up in Dorset and would have had a very distinctive accent, far removed from cockney.

I think that this is by far the best filmed version of the story, but it contains one goof, which irritates me every time I see it.

There are several shots in which Dr. Jekyll looks at himself in the mirror. In fact, there was no mirror - he is filmed through an empty frame. Unfortunately, in these "mirror" shots, no-one thought to move his parting over to the other side!

"Murder on the Campus" was Michael Winner's second film. It was actually made in England in 1957 under the title "The Clock Strikes Eight". It is a very routine muder mystery with little to recommend it. It is what was known as a "Quota Quickie", a second feature, made on the cheap to enable British theatre owners to fulfill their quota - a legal requirement that a set percentage of all footage shown in British movie theatres had to be British in origin.

The opening scene in the darkened Kew Gardens hothouse, illuminated only by the meteor shower, gives hope that this might be a half way decent adaptation of John Wyndham's classic novel. However, this early promise is not fulfilled.

The special effects are adequate by the standards of the day and the cast, if not outstanding, is competent. What lets the film down is the unimaginative, lacklustre script, which takes nothing of value from its source material and which offers little for the cast to get their teeth into. And the solution (no pun intended) to the triffid problem is ridiculous.

Strangely, to date there has been only one other attempt to bring this work to the screen - the 1981 television version, which was transmitted in several weekly instalments. If anything this is worse than the film. Whilst keeping much more closely to the book, it is far too long and has a bland cast, wishy-washy characters and poor special effects.

Come on Paul Verhoeven - you could make something pretty decent out of this!

The younger generation of filmgoers, used to the antiseptic cleanliness of the multiplexes, may not realise that "fleapits" like the Bijou in "The Smallest Show On Earth" did actually exist in post-war Britain. Starved of resources during the war and with restrictions on non-essential building in force until the mid fifties, many small cinemas were in a very sorry state with broken seats, threadbare carpets, antiquated projection equipment and even torn and patched screens.

It is against this background that this charming comedy is set with wonderfully eccentric characters played by Peter Sellers, Margaret Rutherford and Bernard Miles.

The principal character is, however, the Bijou itself. This was a set, the exterior having been temporarily constructed between two railway bridges in Kilburn, a London suburb. The rival cinema, the Grand, was, in fact, a real cinema - the Gaumont at Hammersmith, also a London suburb. If you look closely, it is possible to see that the new name is rather clumsily superimposed.

To someone brought up in the fifties, this film brings back fond memories. To the younger viewers it gives an intriguing glimpse into the past by showing a way of life gone forever.

"Who Killed The Cat?" is a poorly made, cheap and virtually plotless murder mystery. It was made in the days when it was still the norm to show double bills in British cinemas. Such "B" features were churned out by the smaller studios as programme fillers and have now, mercifully, been consigned to oblivion. The film starts promisingly enough with a funeral, but that is about all the action you get. The rest is mostly talk.

Sherlock Holmes solves the mystery of the identity of Jack the Ripper.

Although suffering from a somewhat predictable script, the film is lifted by an excellent cast, which features many household names from the contemporary British stage and screen (both small and large).

In spite of, or perhaps because of, its limited budget, the sets capture the intimate shabbiness of London's East End in the 1880s and the photography has a menacing quality, not easily captured in colour.

Whilst any subtlety is sacrificed from the outset with the first of a number of gory (and historically inaccurate) set piece murders, these are perhaps to be expected, given the subject matter.

Comparison with "Murder By Decree" (1979), in which Sherlock Holmes again discovers the identity of the Ripper, albeit a different one, is inevitable. Whilst undoubtedly enjoying a bigger budget and benefitting from a more imaginative script, "Murder By Decree" has a certain remoteness about it, particularly in those scenes set in the squalid East End back streets, where the claustrophobic atmosphere of the earlier film is lacking.

Although very much a second feature and very thin on historic detail, "A Study In Terror" is, nevertheless, a respectable addition to the Holmes canon.