Pre-amble, being the atypically brief thoughts of your host

Well if it isn't Films on Friday (it is Films on Friday, just to clarify), the online movie guide that puts the "film" into "what films are on TV this week?"

As well as the usual banal, incomplete trot through the week's listings, we're also offering you the once-in-a-lifetime chance to read about our 100 Favourite Movies. We kicked the countdown off last week, and this time around reach the dizzy heights of #81. We'll be going through them in reverse order until we've finished, so stick around for that.

Among the things omitted from the list due to strict rules include Brideshead Revisited (TV series), Harry Hill's TV Burp (TV series), cheese (food stuff), chocolate cake (food stuff) and the complete Blind Willie McTell recordings (food stuff). We couldn't fit in Bugsy Malone either, even though it's fantastic.

Thanks for reading.

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From the Mailbag

... being a collection of letters from the past seven days. Rinc got in touch regarding the Top 100, asking: "So how many Fords are in the list, Rick? Can you tell us so we can guess them? In my recent top 100 there were six Fords. Surely the greatest director of all time. Shame to see Return to Oz drop out though, the best and scariest kids film around. I still have nightmares about the princess's room full of interchangeable heads." So do I, Rinc, so do I. There'll be between seven and nine Ford films (non-inclusive) in the list. And yes he is, isn't he?

chrisscott01, who knows not only his onions, but also his world cinema, opens: "Delighted to see La terra trema turn up, it really hit home last time I watched it. I often find myself asking: 'How does Visconti give his melodrama such emotional weight? Is it his attention to detail? The way he directs the actors? His keen sense of music or visual flourishes? Or simply a good premise to start with?' Maybe it's all the above. La terra trema seems to conjure up poetry out of nowhere as there is very little stylisation, it just comes out naturally, rather than more obvious directorial touches." Great stuff.

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Films on TV - your guide to the week ahead
Oct 17 to 23


SATURDAY, OCTOBER 17

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969, Five USA, 4.45pm) is an altogether different kind of Western - elegiac, atmospheric and punctuated with bursts of violence, but often to be found with its tongue firmly in cheek. Paul Newman and Robert Redford are the title figures, robbing banks and trains on their way to Bolivian oblivion. This isn't as great as Sam Peckinpah's contemporaneous excursions out West, but a fine evocation of time and place and an unforgettable ending make it well worth a look. (4/5)

You've Got Mail (1998, Five, 5pm) is an OK rehash of the classic Jimmy Stewart-Maureen O'Sullivan romantic comedy The Shop Around the Corner (more of which higher up our Top 100 list), starring Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan. I almost wrote "Tom Waits and Meg Ryan" – that would be a better film. Hanks is the son of a discount books mogul who's about to put Meg Ryan's independent store out of business. The pair are falling quietly in love with their respective, anonymous keypadpals (that must be the updated term), little realising who's on the other end of the modem. Nora Ephron (Sleepless in Seattle) adapted and directed this passable romcom, which opts for mawkishness in place of charm, but remains pretty watchable. The leads are both quite engaging. Damn, that's faint praise. (2/5)

Time Bandits (1981, Film4, 6.45pm) is one of Terry Gilliam's early efforts and introduces his own brand of offbeat coming-of-age tale, packed with oddness and entirely devoid of sentimentality. The feeling of disorientation is hammered home by the familiar faces populating the film, who seem to appear and disappear at will. Craig Warnock is Kevin, a young boy through whose wardrobe several dwarves tumble. They've escaped via a time hole and are fleeing the Supreme Being (a suitably scary, ridiculous Ralph Richardson), following a labour dispute. Kevin and his titular, titular friends race through Robin Hood-era Loxley and Napoleonic France. He's almost adopted by King Agamemnon (Sean Connery) in Ancient Greece, only for the dwarves to drag him way, and secure passage on an indestructible sea vessel – the Titanic. Then it gets really weird. This is a touch episodic, and could do with a bit more heart, but it's a riotous ride, with an ending that's pure Gilliam. (4/5)


SUNDAY, OCTOBER 18

Describing cartoons is a thankless task (my pleasure – oh), but the Perry Bible Fellowship's spoof of Good Will Hunting (1997, BBC1, 10.20pm) was terrific, so here goes: a couple of academics stand outside a classroom, watching a caretaker who's poised – chalk in hand – in front of a devilishly complex mathematical problem on a blackboard. Shielding the board, he rubs something out, scribbles something else and exits. The academics walk in and look, amazed, at the board. Some of the problem has been rubbed out. In its place, the man has written "boobs". That's considerably better than this hamfisted film, which is one of those indie movies that pretends to be confrontational and original, but is as likely to kick over the status quo as Fearne Cotton. This one takes an obvious premise (a genius haunted by personal demons who works as a caretaker at a school), adds some air-punching moments and unconvincing "grittiness" and shuffles off stage-left with a handful of ill-deserved Oscars (are there any other kind?). Matt Damon plays the troubled maths whiz and co-wrote the script with Ben Affleck, who's cast as his best friend. The movie was helmed by the usually interesting Gus Van Sant, who was spending some time in the middle of the road after a couple of terrific indie films (Drugstore Cowboy and the incomparable My Own Private Idaho), while Elliot Smith provides the pleasant soundtrack. There are brief flashes of insightfulness and truth, but they're obscured by an awful lot of award-ogling guff. (2/5)

Spider-Man (2002, Five, 7.40pm) is a shallow, CGI-lead comic book yarn, lacking all the things you'd hope would be in there, like interesting characterisations and punchy action sequences. The universe created by the movie seems thin and artificial, while the reliance on computers to supply the wonder and excitement is misguided and embarrassing. There's nothing terribly objectionable about the movie, and it passes the time in its own tepid way, but it smacks of a missed opportunity, especially when viewed against such invigorating recent superhero flicks as Batman Begins and Superman Returns. (2/5)

Two Weeks Notice (2002, ITV2, 1.40pm) is formula stuff, carried off by two appealing stars and the considerable goodwill they unfailingly generate. Sandra Bullock is a great big leftie lawyer, who's determined to stop smiling lothario and scruple-free tycoon Hugh Grant from demolishing her beloved community centre. It seems the only way she can do it is by taking a role as his head legal brain – along with a hefty pay cheque – but dang it if she hasn't just fallen for him. The plot is paper-thin, rigidly follows genre rules and falls to pieces in the final third, but Grant's superb comic timing is much in evidence and Bullock does her usual gawky schtick with typically agreeable results. I'm going to cop a bit of flak for this, but (3/5).


MONDAY, OCTOBER 19

*SOME SPOILERS*
FILM OF THE WEEK (1) would appear to be:
Hopscotch (1980, BBC1, 11.50pm), a phenomenally entertaining caper comedy starring Walter Matthau, who could do this sort of thing in his sleep, but never did. He's a CIA operative who tires of pernickety, patronising boss Ned Beatty and decides to embarrass him – and the whole department – by publishing his memoirs. Having hooked up with old flame Glenda Jackson in Austria, he proceeds to criss cross the globe on a mission of mayhem, outwitting and humiliating his old cronies at every turn. Matthau is an absolute joy in the lead, making the most of an ingenious, good-hearted, unexpectedly frothy script. This is a masterclass in escapist moviemaking from former cinematographer Ronald Neame, who as a director oscillated between socially conscious dramas and big-budget crime and disaster movies. (5/5)

And here's FILM OF THE WEEK (2)
There's spellbinding imagery to spare in Moonrise (1948, More4, 11.20am), one of the best of all films noir. Dane Clark is the hunted, haunted son of a murderer, who kills a man in self-defence and panics, heading for the swamps to find his ailing grandma (Ethel Barrymore). Clark's relationship with girlfriend Gail Russell is touching and believable, epitomised by the moment in the theme park when she cradles his head in her lap, while Frank Borzage, renowned for his florid melodramas, directs with a stunning visual sense. The opening montage is one of the most mesmerising sequences ever put on film. (5/5)

With no back-story and no wrap-up, it's a wonder that All the President's Men (1976, TCM, 9pm) is as good as it is. That'll be down to the gripping true-life story and the astonishing acting, I suppose. A based-on-fact account of Washington Post reporters Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein's quest to uncover the Watergate conspiracy, it has an immediacy and attention to detail that make it seem like the real thing. Playing the journalists, Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman learned one another's lines, meaning that they sometimes overlap, repeat one another's observations or preempt questions, a simple trick that works extremely well. They're both terrific, though as usual, Jason Robards, Jr. is the best thing on screen, playing the intimidating Post editor Ben Bradlee. If Hal Holbrook is a bit too movie-ish as Deep Throat, Woodward and Bernstein's whistle-blower, the injection of mystery and danger his presentation brings (he generally hangs around in the dark, looking like Harry Lime) is one concession to convention that works rather well. Alan J. Pakula, who specialised in conspiracy thrillers, keeps this pacy, fascinating and gripping – not bad considering we already knew how the story turned out. (5/5)


For TUE to FRI picks, please click on the link below right.