Radio On

This sparse, poignant 1979 film from critic turned first-time-director Christopher Petit is a rare example of a British road movie. Financed by Wim Wenders' production company, the film centres on a young man who travels from London to Bristol to investigate the mysterious death of his brother.

Plot is not important here. Indeed the lives of the various characters met on the way are relatively unimportant. What is most strongly conveyed, through a precise mix of bleak, monochrome cinematography, languorous tracking shots of industrialised Britain and cold New Wave and electronic music is a meditative exploration of a societal malaise.

The film opens with a long tracking shot through an apparently deserted house, taking in many minor details, and looping through different rooms to the sound of David Bowie's "Heroes" / "Helden" (the German version of the same song), finally setting on a image which transpires to be the final viewpoint of a dying man in the bath.

Oppressively bleak and yet somehow ultimately uplifting, a feat accomplished without being remotely redemptive, Radio On is worth persevering with to the end - just don't expect any answers. As with all good road movies, the lesson learnt is in the journey. In Petit's minor masterpiece we are taught that apathy is universal. Somehow, this is a comforting thought.
4/5

Se7en

This unremittingly bleak tale of murder and attrition from director David Fincher is an astonishing cinematic statement, that remains as shocking today as when it was first released in 1995. It is a masterpiece of the macabre and modern gothic, and sits in the same category as Psycho - a film that proves pure genre pieces can be as profound and inventive as any cinematic expression.

Se7en follows Morgan Freeman and Brad Pitt as two detectives in their respective last and first weeks on the job, following the case of a serial killer who mutilates his victims and labels the crimes with one of the seven deadly sins. The murders, though off screen, are nonetheless gory and graphic, and form the gritty substance of the film.

Murky and dark, the opening segments of the film trap the audience in a purgatorial city of depravity, fear and constant decay. As the investigators meditate on the writings of Milton and Chaucer, we are pulled in to the psychology of a killer who we've yet to meet. Most intriguingly of all, and virtually unique in good crime films, we are forced to focus on the how, rather than the why of the grisly murders.

As Fincher unveils the ace up the film's sleeve, we are pulled with the characters into the blinding light of day, and left with the uncomfortable notion that self-understanding is the worst fruit plucked from the tree of knowledge. Dazzlingly pure and perfectly realised, Se7en is in many ways the epitaph of modernist cinema, and gave Fincher the freedom to move on to tackling post-modernism, a goal he would achieve with Fight Club.
5/5

The Descent

This terrifying British horror movie is, to turn a cringing phrase, "the mutant offspring of Touching The Void and The Hobbit on steroids". A group of young women meet to go potholing in the Appalachians, one year after a terrible accident threatens to tear them apart. Tensions bubble under the surface as they descend into the mountain, where they are totally unprepared for the horrors that will throw them together and then tear them, limb from limb, apart.

While on paper this premise sounds overblown and more than a little silly, The Descent is actually a refreshing change: a horror movie that is subtle in characterization and sharply acted. Once the subterranean odyssey begins, the dialogue is reeled in, and director Neil Marshall allows his astonishing visuals to command the action. A happy conjunction of realism and textured artistry, the aesthetic is dark, claustrophobic, and unnervingly effective.

Indeed the claustrophobic first half of the film is arguably the stronger, where the tension is maintained by the fracturing emotions and crumbling setting. Horror aficionados especially will appreciate the punch behind the claustrophobic terror shown here, of woman-versus-nature at it's most raw. Inevitably this is lost somewhat in the second act, as Marshall pulls out all the stops to unleash a torrent of gore. Surprisingly, the tension remains.

Important to note here is a conscious effort to avoid clichéd visual terminology, meaning some of the symbolism is surprisingly potent. Where one "dirtied" character lands in a pool of water, another apparent innocent lands in... something rather less appealing.

Ultimately the main point of contention in whether the film succeeds is in the reading of the dénouement. Marshall attempts to append "into Madness" to the title of his film, and whether he successfully achieves this coup de grâce is for the viewer to decide. What is certain is that The Descent stands tall as a terrifying, brutal and witty horror film, that no doubt will age better than many of its contemporaries.
4/5

Punch-Drunk Love

This beautiful indie flick from art house maestro Paul Thomas Anderson is a deliberately understated study of neurosis and first love. Light and playful in the most part, but with an undercurrent of ire directed at societal complacency, it is perhaps most notable for an excellent performance from Adam Sandler, certainly a diamond in the turgid rough of his career.

Sandler takes the central role as Barry Egan, a frustrated, possibly mildly autistic businessman whose life is ruined by both his own repressed psyche, and the meddling of his seven ghastly sisters. Indeed, all the women that Egan encounters in the film (including the woman he speaks to on a phone-sex hotline) are a source of nothing but trauma, save for one. As his relationship with the quiet Lena, pointedly underplayed by Emily Watson, blooms, Sandler nuances his performance with a surprising amount of depth.

Combining plot elements of comedy, romance and thriller, the film is pitched as a minimalist and artistic piece. The use of colour is bold but not overpowering, and there is striking use of the late Jeremy Blake's video artwork to break up the narrative. Yet the balance is maintained, as Philip Seymour Hoffman (enjoying himself) and his goons manage to cause a believable amount of mayhem.

Anderson's screenplay and direction are typically unpredictable, and repeat viewings will undoubtedly reveal a complex substructure to the playful narrative. Despite this, Punch-Drunk Love is a pleasure to watch on a first viewing, and proof that Anderson can churn out quirky, clever little indie gems in his sleep.
4/5

El Mariachi

This micro-budget Mexican thriller marked the feature-film debut of Robert Rodriguez, who's taste for superlative action and grungey horror has made him a Hollywood success story over the last decade or so, including two collaborations with Quentin Tarantino. It comes as something of a shock then, to re-visit this early exercise in style and suspense and see the restraint on view.

Carlos Gallardo plays the near-destitute mariachi who arrives in a strange city, guitar in hand, looking for work. Unfortunately for him, a recent breakout at a local prison (which forms the drily amusing opening of the film) has meant that a local crimelord has ordered his men to kill a man carrying a guitar case (in this case loaded with guns). A case of mistaken identity serves as the McGuffin to kick start a reasonably predictable but enjoyably twisted cat and mouse thriller.

Some may dismiss the low production values on offer as limitations, but in many ways they ring more true than the high-budget B-movie worship of later works such as From Dusk Till Dawn. Peter Marquardt makes for an hilariously unconvincing villain, and there are certainly continuity goofs that even the most casual viewer couldn't fail to spot.

Regardless, the film comes across as an effortless fusion of style and charm, and deservedly became something of an international hit.
4/5

Thirty Two Short Films About Glenn Gould

This experimentally-structured dissection of the life of reclusive Canadian pianist Glenn Gould is far more watchable than it has any right to be. The short films referred to in the title are spread across a range of styles and genres - from talking heads through dramatic reconstructions and including abstract pieces set to Gould's performances and compositions.

Gould himself, a child prodigy and concert pianist star at a young age, retired from performing in the 1960s at the tender age of 32 to concentrate on recorded performance (a trick the Beatles would pull two years later). In the majority of the films here he is played by Colm Feore, who captures the essence of an idiosyncratic - arguably obsessive-compulsive - personality.

Director Francois Girard follows a loose chronology though Gould's life, breaking the biographical sections up with a range of excellent - occasionally inspired - shorts centred around the man's music. These include snippets of cinematic expression similar to those found in Fantasia, enacted or genuine response to the music, abstract animation, and perhaps most memorably one astonishing sequence of X-ray video footage.

This is not a film for entertaining the family on a weekday afternoon, but - for those so inclined to watch - is is gripping, fascinating and beautiful. As an artistic exploration of one man's life and work, and a study of the music that engulfed it, the film is a triumph.
4/5

There Will Be Blood

This breathtaking masterpiece from director Paul Thomas Anderson is one of the best American films in decades. Uniquely innovative from start to finish - both in Anderson's excellent script and his unorthodox direction - it also contains a career-best performance from the finest actor of his generation.

Daniel Day Lewis has had a career notable for its consistent level of excellence, no doubt due in part to his highly selective choice of roles. Here, he portrays an entrepreneur and self-proclaimed "oil-man" on his rise to wealth and power in the first decades of the twentieth century. On screen for virtually the entirety of the near-three hours of There Will Be Blood, his complete, full-blooded, human and ultimately demonic portrayal of a man's spiralling collapse within his own soul deservedly won him a second Best Actor gong at this year's Oscars.

The rest of the cast is also excellent, especially the young Paul Dano (best known as the one who doesn't speak in Little Miss Sunshine) who excels in a difficult role as a proto-evangelist preacher. Religion is a core aspect of the areas examined by the film, but Anderson does not presume to pass comment for or against it. Instead, religion and the economics of oil exploration are fused into a complex exploration of a number of issues underlying the surface fabric of the film.

Many reviews have praised the depiction of the period setting, but it isn't hard to see through this to a modern America, being chewed up by oil and religion. Both are seen as blood, coursing respectively through earth and society, a blood which boils up in the veins and arteries of the central character and is unleashed as cholic hatred on all within range.

The power and brilliance of There Will Be Blood is almost overwhelming on a first viewing - due in no small part to Johnny Greenwood's astonishing experimental score - and the film demands a second viewing. Watching it is like having your guts pulled out through your stomach, and yet somehow you leave the cinema walking on air. Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant.
5/5