Films on Friday - Sep 18, 2009

JAMES Stewart, Lord of the Rings and the selfishness of Marty McFly, in the movie guide that's in for one last big job.

Titus pre-amble

Hello, and welcome to Films on Friday, the movie guide that's stayed up until 11.17pm typing this rubbish. I'm Rick and for the next 197 seconds I'll be your host (don't try and play innocent with me, I've seen the web stats).

This week's column whizzes through the week's listings like a sleepy journalist whizzing through the week's listings. Every so often I'm going to nudge you in the midriff and mutter "watch this", so if you're not comfortable with that, I suggest you leave. But take all my patronising, ill-informed advice, and by this time next week you'll have seen Richard Widmark and Michael Douglas on the warpath, David Niven experiencing curiously uninvolving martial strife and Spencer Tracy karate-chopping Ernest Borgnine, like, really hard.

As well as the usual Films on TV guide, there's our regular DVD of the Week feature, and a selection of your cleverest letters. Over the next months or so I also hope to bring you a couple of exciting features, including a lost (and now found) interview with Tom Courtenay that I did as a teenager. The general upheaval of the period meant I only sold a handful of copies of that particular fanzine, so I'm happy to be able to bring the Q&A to a (slightly) larger audience now.

I'll tell you what, I'll have a sleep now, and when I wake up I'll stick this on the web so you can read it. Deal? OK.

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From the Mailbag

Some new faces getting in touch this week, including directorscut on the subject of Bruce Lee's finest movie. "Way of the Dragon gets my vote as Lee's best completed film. He was leagues ahead of (Fist of Fury director) Lo Wei when it came to shooting fight scenes." One can only wonder how marvellous Lee's Game of Death might have been, had Lee not died and the remaining footage been crowbarred into a lousy sub-Bond tale featuring Dean Jagger as a goldfish murderer, and a Lee double who wears enormous specs that make him look like a fly.

Rinc was one of several people to inexplicably leap to the defence of Grease. "It's a good bit of fluff with some good songs," he says, before acknowledging that the theme of the film is a touch off. "You're right, the moral of 'If you want to find love you must change who you are' is maybe one of the worst morals in any film anywhere. Sandy has to change herself completely, becoming the antithesis of what she was, just to win the heart of Danny - who didn't share the same level of commitment to change himself for her. Nice." Quite.

Regular correspondent demoncleaner is back too, sharing more big thoughts and long words, to my general bemusement. "I saw something recently that made me chuckle," he begins. "It was a review in Sight & Sound that described Grease as a 'gothic statement on nostalgia with its nightmarishly overaged teens trapped in a fake 1950s time warp'." Also cheering him this week is the scheduling of yet more Powell and Pressburger films: "I'm delighted that there's P&P on during the week. Since The Red Shoes (which screened on August 1), I've been cheerfully immersing more and more into their lush and verdant worlds. I watched Blimp on Sunday and it truly is blinding."

Many thanks for all the comments, please continue to get in touch any way you know how - the email is rick.burin@ypn.co.uk.

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Films on TV - your guide to the week ahead

Sep 19 tp 25

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 19

Following last week's screening of The Man From Laramie, there's more Jimmy Stewart/Anthony Mann Western goodness in the form of The Naked Spur (1953, Five, 4.35pm), the pick of the pair's excursions in the genre. Stewart, turning his popular persona on its head (though obviously it's a bit more complicated than that), plays a brooding bounty hunter trying to track down smart, charming, psychotic Robert Ryan. There weren't many actors who could hold their ground against Ryan, but Stewart was one of them - and as Ryan's killer preys on the avarice of the bounty hunter and his comrades, a formidable acting tussle begins. Though it lacks the sweep of Mann's later Westerns - an impression given by his stunning use of widescreen in Laramie et al as the format grew in popularity - it's full of great dialogue, and the story really grips. There's a really poor special effect near the close that slightly mars the climax, but it's an all-time classic Western. The director's Man of the West, with Gary Cooper, is better still. (5/5)

That looks a better bet than Home Alone (1990, Five, 5.40pm), unless you can't get through the afternoon without seeing a kid torture some robbers. Macauley Culkin is the one-man army slaying the civil liberties of Daniel Stern and Joe Pesci as they try to raid his house. Kids might like it - the excessive violence didn't put me off as a kid (and I was banned from watching anything other than Us and PGs) - but seen today it's more than a little alarming. (2/5)

Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001, C4, 7pm) is a powerful, emotionally satisfying first entry in Peter Jackson's staggeringly ambitious trilogy. Elijah Wood (in a superb, unheralded performance) is Frodo Baggins, charged with destroying an all-powerful ring that corrupts all it touches. Accompanied by fellow hobbits Sean Astin, Billy Boyd and Dominic Monaghan, he sets off for Mount Doom, as a ragtag alliance of elves, wizards and trolls seek to clear his path. A perfect marriage of character drama and spectacle, with wonderful music, cinematography and performances. The only disappointment is that the theatrical cut - as opposed to the extended version available on DVD - leaves some telling sequences on the cutting room floor. It's still a complete triumph. (5/5)

What's the biggest Oscar travesty on record? Well, as a disagreeable sort, I can generally find something to moan about in every category every year... but how about Rocky (1976, Virgin 1, 9pm) winning Best Picture over Network? In the mawkish corner we have Sly Stallone's populist monument to cheese - an uplifting but slapdash yarn that's pretty much sunk by one-dimensional playing. And in the satirical corner, weighing in at 121 acid-tongued, spine-tingling minutes, is Paddy Chayefsky's assault on television, with William Holden acting all-comers out of the cinema and up the street. Rocky: (2/5) (Network: 5/5, but it's not on this week.)

Carlito's Way (1993, ITV1, 0.25am) is a bruising crime melodrama that's a cut above the bulk of director Brian De Palma's other work. Al Pacino stars as a Puerto-Rican hood who wants to keep his nose clean - and get out of New York. Sean Penn is his crooked lawyer, John Leguizamo his titular nemesis and Penelope Ann Miller his girl. The film isn't perfect, with an episodic structure and some thin characters, but Pacino's punchy turn gives it a compelling centre and there's an agreeable undercurrent of strangled desperation flowing alongside all that blood. The climactic sucker punch is nicked from the '30s classic Le quai des brumes, and works well. (3/5)

And, yes, Casino Royale (2006, ITV1, 9.15pm) is on, which I haven't seen. Sorry.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 20

So I let you down with Casino Royale (I have seen the pitiful original), but I can tell you about Goldfinger (1964, ITV1, 4.20pm) if you like. You've already seen that one? Well then you'll know it's a diverting, memorable entry in the Bond canon that falls short of greatness since it's just so thoroughly silly. It isn't? Oh. Sean Connery is yer man, of course, sent to thwart the despicable ambitions of the title character, a gold magnate who's about to knock over Fort Knox. There he tangles with Goldfinger's pilot Pussy Galore (Honor Blackman) and enjoyable henchman Odd Job (Harold Sakata), even getting to engage in a little bit of emoting. I don't really "get" Bond (sorry, it must be some kind of character defect), but this is among the best of the 11 I've seen, so fans should have a field day. (3/5)

*MINOR SPOILERS*

How about watching Back to the Future (1985, Five, 4.55pm) instead? It's a genre-fusing time capsule, mixing many of the best elements of '80s moviemaking with some of the more notorious facets of the contemporary society. Sci-fi heroes are usually concerned with saving the world. Marty McFly? Well he's going back in time to save himself. And if he can get a 4x4 out of it, that'd be pretty neat too. What a massive yuppie. It's extraordinary, then, that the film is so incredibly likeable - and entertaining. Fresh-faced Michael J. Fox is Marty, crashlanding in 1955 and accidentally rewriting history. Enlisting wild-eyed Doc Brown (Christopher Lloyd), he tries to reunite his school-age parents. If he fails, he'll never be born - and unfortunately his mum's got the hots for him. A classic of its type, with at least two moments that can cause the most restrained sorts to punch the air: McFly's skateboard-assisted escape from the school bully and his 'Johnny B. Goode' routine. If you're thinking it might all look a bit naff nowadays, don't worry. Great, great, great. (5/5)

Bedazzled (1967, BBC2, 11.40pm) has a firm cult following, being perhaps the best of Peter Cook's wildly erratic celluloid outings. He plays the devil (or "George Spiggott" as he tends to introduce himself), who gives put-upon short order cook Dudley Moore seven wishes - based on the seven deadly sins - in exchange for his soul. This '60s spin on the Faust legend is flashy, entertaining and sometimes fantastically funny, but it's hamstrung by the wish-fulfilment sketches, which vary greatly in quality. Still, while it can't compete with the remnants of Not Only, But Also, it's worth catching for Cook's turn (he's an erudite, mischievous devil) and some inspired gags that run from the satirical to the absurd. Raquel Welch has an eye-catching bit as Lust. (4/5), just about.

In America (2002, Film4, 11.15pm) is a lovely little film, tinged with magic, about an Irish family who relocate to the US and try to build a new life. Samantha Morton is - as always -phenomenally good playing the mother, with child actors Sarah and Emma Bolger equally fine as her children, aged 11 and six. There's occasional heavy-handedness, and a couple of subplots that really belong in a different film, but it's a film with a feel that's all its own, along with an interesting visual sense. The fairground sequence is immensely moving. (4/5)

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 21

RESOLUTELY NOT THE FILM OF THE WEEK

It's a real challenge to review Spiceworld: The Movie (1997, Sky Family, 11.30pm), as we're not supposed to swear on the website. Still, I'm going to give it a go. Perhaps the most superfluous movie ever commissioned, the Spice Girls' first, and mercifully last, feature dribbled onto the big screen in 1997. Twelve years on (or eight, actually, as I've avoided its meritricious clutches since 2001), Spiceworld exists as neither a capturing of the zeitgeist, nor a couple of hours of daft fun. Rather, it's a vile experiment in self-promotion and spurious personal philosophy, wrapped up in a big, bright, stupid bundle, with a heap of lousy songs tossed onto the pile. Presumably seeking to recreate the carefree atmosphere of seminal band flick, A Hard Day's Night, the director (whose name I can't be bothered to find out) hangs a series of terminally unfunny sketches upon a narrative that seems to have nipped out for a lobotomy. Chuck plenty of money (and a modicum of talent) at a film, and you expect a little of it to stick. Spice World is a movie made of teflon. Joining the five talent vacuums as they whine about their lives are such shameless folk as Richard Briers, Alan Cumming, Richard E. Grant and Hugh Laurie. If watching The Wages of Fear is to experience the feeling that there is a screw in one's stomach being continually tightened, and LeRoy's Little Women akin to having Chuck Norris tug relentlessly at your tear-ducts, then Spiceworld is like being kneed in the face for two hours. And then pushed in the sea. (1/5) - can we give 0s?

I don't really like Bond, but I really don't like Carry On. Carry on Up the Khyber (1968, Film4, 5.10pm) is usually held up as the best of the bunch, and does have a couple of strong moments, particularly the ode to British stoicism that sees a colonial dinner party continue, even as the building is under siege - and the roof is falling on Joan Sims. But it's inescapably rubbish for the bulk of its duration, with almost all the jokes being about pants. (1/5)

Richard Widmark arrived in movies as a giggling psycho, shoving a woman in a wheelchair down a flight of stairs in the patchy Kiss of Death (1947, Sky Classics, 3.30am TUE). Unfortunately his dynamic turn, heralding the birth of a formidable new screen bad guy, isn't enough to make up for the film's slightly muted feel. Perhaps it's Victor Mature's fault: cast as an ex-con trying to go straight (and to stay out of Widmark's way), he seems to have strained his rather underdeveloped acting muscles. Whatever, it's difficult to engage with the central character, and the Ben Hecht/Charles Lederer script lacks their usual pizzazz, despite some effective set-pieces. Nor does this look enough like a noir - considering that director Henry Hathaway helmed The Dark Corner, cinematographer Norbert Brodine shot a handful of shadowy delights, that's a letdown. Still, the location shooting is interesting, the title is great and it's always nice to see Brian Donlevy. (3/5)

For TUE to FRI listings, please click on the link below right.TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 22

Local Hero (1983, C4, 1.20pm) is a really special off-kilter comedy from writer-director Bill Forsyth. Peter Rieger plays a deal-maker for an American oil company, so superficial that even his Scottish heritage is faked. When his eccentric boss (Burt Lancaster) sends him to buy a Scottish fishing village - to plunder its natural resources - Mac is sent to sweeten up the residents. It's a familiar set-up, but this is no straightforward story of redemption. All the villagers – bar one philosophical hermit (Fulton Mackay) – want to sell, while Mac is weak and deferential, with no intention of scuppering the deal. It's an unconventional, uncommercial movie, with its Scotland-set scenes shot, acted and scored (by Mark Knopfler) with such tenderness they bring a lump to the throat. A classic. (5/5)

Leaving his car, steaming, in a traffic jam, Michael Douglas goes on a very '90s rampage, interrogating burger bar staff about the discrepancy between picture and product, harassing his estranged family and generally waving a great big gun around. Falling Down (1993, ITV4, 11.10pm), scripted by David Mamet, oscillates between liberalism and extremism as it takes scattershot aim at the ills of contemporary society: consumerism, militarism, golf... Its isolationist, disenfranchised anti-hero is really just a mouthpiece for Mamet's more explosive views, but it's a fascinating treatise, when not meandering off down side-alleys. Important and explosive, if not always coherent. (4/5)

Brazil (1985, BBC1, 1985) is one of Terry Gilliam's best. Not his very best – I'd say that's the dazzling sci-fi thriller Twelve Monkeys – but a suitably epic canvas for the director to weave one of his many chilling, hilarious dystopian visions. There are shades of 'The Trial' as Jonathan Pryce's faceless bureaucrat is asked to investigate a government blunder and ends up being accused of murder, all the while dreaming of rescuing fair maiden Kim Greist. Throw in Robert De Niro as a terrorist with a sideline in air conditioning, Michael Palin as an interrogator and as many offbeat, left-field touches as you'd expect from a movie written by Gilliam and Tom Stoppard (along with Python alumni collaborator Charles McKeown), and you have one of the most fascinating and ambitious films of the '80s. It's let down only by a pointless Oedipal subtext, and some slightly confusing plotting. Of course a movie like this requires an atmosphere of disorientation and alienation, but the audience still needs to be able to follow what's going on. (4/5)

Please Don't Eat the Daisies (1960, TCM, 7am) is an unexceptional, often peculiarly bleak comedy-drama, loosely based on Jean Kerr's comic essays about a suburban housewife (played by Doris Day). The ever-likeable David Niven plays Day's husband - a New York drama critic - but isn't given much room to display his wonderful flair for comedy. Instead, we get a slightly fraught storyline about Niven sacrificing his essential niceness – and putting his marriage at risk – for the sake of celebrity. Doris Day is his spouse, and as usual gets to sing the theme song: the number here is more incongruous than ever! The supporting cast has such veteran scene-stealers as Spring Byington, Richard Haydn and Patsy Kelly (one of my favourite screen comics), but neither they nor the four appealingly mischievous kids are really given much to do. Janice Paige has the film's best role, playing a flirtatious showgirl with a passion for publicity. (2/5)

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 23

Seeing as The King of Comedy is now regularly cited as Scorsese's most underrated film, I guess it's no longer true. So I'm nominating After Hours (1985, ITV3, 11am). Griffin Dunne (I'm familiar with the maxim: 'Never trust a man with two first names', but two surnames...?) stars as a New Yorker who experiences one outlandish encounter after another throughout one long, nightmarish night. This hysterical black comedy is loaded with ridiculous characters, outrageous scenarios and laugh-out-loud gags. Rosanna Arquette and Linda Fiorentino shine in an eclectic supporting cast. The film's ending was devised by British director Michael Powell, who had been hanging around the set. (5/5)

Heaven Can Wait (1943, Film4, 4.50pm) is a colourful romantic fantasy starring Don Ameche as a deceased adulterer who's so convinced of his wrongdoing he requests an audience with the devil (Laird Cregar). In flashback, we get the whole story of his marriage to Gene Tierney, from their youthful courtship (where Ameche is played by no fewer than two brilliant child stars, Scotty Beckett and Dickie Moore) to their dotage. The scene where Tierney says she's relieved that Ameche has grown a paunch - thwarting his philandering - is one of the most subtly moving I've seen. Publicity of the time proclaimed: 'It means so much, the Lubitsch touch', and the director's delicate, witty handling is as assured as ever. Lots of top character players in support, including Charles Coburn, Marjorie Main, Eugene Pallette and Louis Calhern. (5/5)

Bad Day at Black Rock (1955, TCM, 5.15pm) is one of the finest movies ever made, as a mysterious one-armed man (Spencer Tracy, in career-best form) arrives in a Western town and starts stirring up trouble. This electrifying thriller – fusing the best elements of the Western, noir and social drama – threw light on post-war racism, whilst doubling as a nail-shredding suspense yarn. Robert Ryan is typically superb as a complex, hateful patriot, backed by a stunning ensemble that features a virtual who's who of the era's best character actors: Lee Marvin, Ernest Borgnine, Walter Brennan and Dean Jagger. Just about perfect. (5/5)

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 24

Memoirs of an Invisible Man (1992, C4, 1.35pm) is a total misfire from John Carpenter, who helmed classics like Assault on Precinct 13, Escape From New York and The Thing, before wheeling his little director's chair off the rails. Chevy Chase, giving the impression of a man who could only function in the rarefied atmosphere of the 1980s, is our annoying yuppie 'hero', turned invisible by a lab accident and sought after by all manner of uninteresting competing parties. The scene where love interest Daryl Hannah paints a new face on Chase is memorably dreadful (for a more convincing variation, see James Whale's 1933 movie, The Invisible Man), but mostly this is just dull. Father Ted fans may want to look out for Bishop Brennan (Jim Norton), popping up in a rare film role, but it will take a will of iron to get all the way through this travesty. (1/5)

A Matter of Life and Death (1946, More4, 11.15am) is the best-known of Powell and Pressburger's films, but it's not in the top tier of their work (with Colonel Blimp, Black Narcissus, I Know Where I'm Going! and A Canterbury Tale). The opening scenes, where David Niven's pilot retains his composure and charm – and wins the heart of telephone operator Kim Hunter – whilst plummeting towards certain death are some of the greatest in all cinema. The central premise, in which Niven must fight for the right to life in a celestial court, is also an intriguing one: particularly when we're left to wonder if he is merely hallucinating. And the decision by Powell to shoot the earth-bound scenes in sumptuous Technicolor, and the Heavenly sequences in monochrome is profound. But the film never comes close to matching the emotional intensity of the first 10 minutes and the climactic debate between Roger Livesey and Raymond Massey (doing his bigot routine) is oddly underwhelming. The way Livesey finds himself in the court is also dashed off without screenwriter Pressburger's usual intelligence and finesse. The movie is arresting, with some unforgettable moments, but if you're not completely bowled over, please don't let it put you off the pair's other work. (4/5)

I, Robot (2004, C4, 9pm) is a passable futuristic thriller about robot rebellion that falls apart in the second half. Will Smith stars. (2/5)

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 25

BBC1 screens Gonzo: The Life and Work of Hunter S. Thompson (2008, BBC1, 1.15am SAT) this evening, though I'm not sure whether it's a slightly truncated version of the theatrical cut that's showing. From the bits I caught on telly previews last year, this documentary looked excellent, and reviews suggest it's an even-handed, insightful look at the drugged-up writer's pivotal years. No review, as I haven't seen it, but I'll certainly be giving it a look.

James Mason is an ideal Captain Nemo in 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954, More4, 1.05pm), a Jules Verne adaptation that strikes just the right tone. Hunting a mysterious giant horned whale, Nemo is accompanied by combustible sailor Kirk Douglas, naturalist Paul Lukas, and Lukas' assistant, the wonderful Peter Lorre. Colourful, bombastic and very well-acted, this is one of Disney's best live action spectacles, with only the absence of a real climax tempering the enjoyment. (4/5)

You'd think performers as charismatic as Robert Mitchum and Marilyn Monroe could make anything look good, but apparently that's not the case. Take a look at River of No Return (1954, C4, 1.40pm) – or rather don't – a superficial coming-of-age yarn replete with not-so-special effects and a denouement that becomes glaringly obvious some halfway through. Supposedly based on the classic neorealist film The Bicycle Thieves, though the similarities are superficial at best – it sees 10-year-old Mark Calder (Tommy Rettig) uncovering father Mitchum's feet of clay whilst fighting rapids and Indians. There's nothing terribly objectionable about it, the leads do have a certain chemistry, and Monroe's four songs are alright, but it's still something of a waterlogged squib – and I say that as a massive Mitchum fan. It's probably a touch better in its original 3D. (2/5)

Vying for your attention in the afternoon slot over on Dave, we have perhaps cinema's most famous pint, as anticipated by Johnny Mills in Ice Cold in Alex (1958, Dave, 2pm). Whilst I'm not sure it's really ideal fodder for "the home of witty banter", the movie does have more quips per minute than Brighton Rock, which Dave was showing the other week. I await its screening of Winter Light (and Potemkin) with interest. Where were we? Ah yes, Johnny Mills. He plays a soldier with a drink problem, trying to guide an ambulance crew to safety across the North African desert during World War Two. Excellent characterisations, skilful direction by J. Lee Thompson and an intelligent script that tackles some big issues give this terrifically entertaining adventure movie a real power and potency. (5/5)

What's the most improbably cast-list you've seen. How about: "Ant, Dec, Harry Dean Stanton..."? Alien Autopsy (2006, BBC1, 11.40pm) completes this week's trio of movies I haven't seen; I couldn't help but tell you about it.

Thanks for reading. For our DVD of the Week, please click on the link below right.DVD of the Week

#16 - The Reckless Moment (Max Ophuls, 1949)

This is a fascinating, brilliant noiresque melodrama from German director Max Ophuls. Brought to Hollywood by Howard Hughes, Ophuls was fired from the eccentric producer's notorious vanity project Vendetta, but made four films in the next three years, before trundling off to France and great success. The Reckless Moment was his last American film.

Joan Bennett – a staple of Fritz Lang's excursions in the noir genre – is cast most effectively as a Lake Tahoe housewife, trying to cover up a murder apparently committed by her daughter. Deserted by her husband for Christmas – he's away on a business trip* – she tangles with Irish blackmailer James Mason and his ferocious, softly-spoken accomplice, Mr Nagel.

The film's masterstroke is in placing its generic hallmarks – the sleazy, manipulative older man duping an innocent, the brooding blackmailer and the merciless hand of fate – within (and against) such a well-realised familial set-up, in such a comfortable, ordinary, well-lit community. The bright house, like something from a TV soap, is contrasted superbly with the other-worldly eerieness of the boat house at night.

Nightmare

A similar juxtaposition: a nightmare fast unravelling within an ideal, was used in Nicholas Ray's terrific Bigger Than Life. Here, Ophls also uses visual tricks to telegraph danger and impending catastrophe, as in the lights-on/lights-off sequence that commences the film's first night. The director's trademark tracking shots are also much in evidence: there's a tremendous one to set the scene as Bennett returns from Los Angeles some five minutes in.

The film is powered by Bennett's edgy, protective central performance. She's a nervous tic in human form as her character juggles traditional responsibilities with new ones, like trying to raise 10,000 in two days. The scenes in which she is gradually, casually degraded by uncaring loan companies and pawnbrokers are masterfully done. What other film would bother to show that?

Believable

Her scene with Mason in a car crossing a lake, is similarly potent, with eloquent dialogue forcefully delivered. At times betraying the B-movie woodenness that ultimately prevented Bennett ever being a top drawer star, her housewife nevertheless has a certain something more real, more compelling, more caring, more obsessively, believably maternal than almost any other on-screen parent of the period. Mason also gives one of his best performances (though when was he ever weak?), and his final confrontation with Bennett is an absolute gem. There's also fine work by David Bair, and by Geraldine Brooks as our would-be murderer.

The Reckless Moment is fast-moving, persuasive entertainment, written and shot with an eye for the unusual. It's topped off with a curious (albeit fatalistic) happy-ish ending. Its themes are as enduring as its poetic imagery. Bennett's emotional and sexual repression (neither relieved by any outlet), the mundane practicalities of domestic '40s life and the soon-to-be-familiar 'generation gap' conflicts within the family unit give this home front noir a feel that's all its own.

The Reckless Moment is available on Region 2 DVD for around 7.

*The original story was set in World War Two, hence the absence of the husband. Bennett's scenes on the telephone with her husband (and her conversation about him with his father) bear some resemblance to those in a great American home front picture released five years before: Since You Went Away. Claudette Colbert's surprising tour-de-force at the heart of that film is one of the few screen mothers on a par with Bennett's. The Reckless Moment also recalls a 1948 noir in which a happy post-war bubble is cruelly punctured – this time by Robert Ryan – the twisty-turny Act of Violence.

DVD of the Week archive:

#1 - Let's Get Lost (Bruce Weber, 1988)

#2 - Charley Varrick (Don Siegel, 1973)

#3 - The Black Cat (Edgar G. Ulmer, 1934)

#4 - The Raven (Lew Landers, 1935)

#5 - The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger, 1943)

#6 - Written and Directed by Preston Sturges (Preston Sturges, 1940-44)

#7 – The Crying Game (Neil Jordan, 1992)

#8 - Top Hat (Mark Sandrich, 1935)

#9 - Cache (Michael Haneke, 2005)

#10 - No Direction Home: Bob Dylan (Martin Scorsese, 2005)

#11 - Hannah and Her Sisters (Woody Allen, 1986)

#12 – A Star Is Born (George Cukor, 1954)

#13 - Lady on a Train (Charles David, 1945)

#14 - Just Like Heaven (Mark Waters, 2005)

#15 - The Thin Man (W.S. Van Dyke II, 1934)

Thanks for reading - more next week.

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