December 2015 book and film review

BOOKS

COUSIN BETTE, by Honore de Balzac.
In the Paris of the 1840s, rich men are prepared to disgrace themselves and lose every centime they own to win the favours of France's most beautiful strumpets. And these all-knowing tarts are perfectly happy to let them do it, if they can secure a sable coat or a prettily furnished apartment out of it. Meanwhile, the less attractive, spurned females plot terrible revenge on the men who have ditched them for more glamorous models.
Balzac, along with such geniuses as Emil Zola, Charles Dickens and George Eliot may be considered one of the great masters of the novel, painting characters with the vividness of a Van Gogh combined with the psychological insight of a Freud or Jung. I have been asked why I neglect modern writers for these long dead fictioners of a bygone age: my answer? They're better, that's why.

THE KILLING DOLL and LIVE FLESH, by Ruth Rendell.
In the first of this "double bill" of Rendell novels placed together in a single edition, a young man sells his soul to the devil, mainly in order to be tall. He learns the black arts, and the white ones, and things seem to be working out wonderfully for him. He does indeed start growing, and from being a Billy-no-mates he becomes popular, especially with the ladies, while his sister too becomes entranced by the strong, self confident man her brother has become. So much so in fact, that she asks him to use his art to kill an enemy. And when that person dies, she realizes his powers have no limit...
In Live Flesh, we find a psychopathic rapist just out of a ten year stretch in prison for paralysing a policeman by shooting him in the spine. He doesn't really feel guilty about what he has done; it was all a matter of unfortunate circumstances in his mind, though others might disagree. Then by chance he discovers where his victim lives and decides to track him down and explain his actions. Surprisingly he is not rejected by the man; indeed an unlikely friendship blossoms. But once a psychopath...
These two book were written in the 1980s, so quite late by my standards (see above) but nonetheless I found them to be excellent examples of the "crime thriller" genre, well written and skillfully plotted. This is my first time with Ruth: it may not be my last.

FILMS

ZERO HOUR! (1958) D- Hall Bartlett. An airliner takes off and meals are served. However, everyone who chooses the fish course goes down with food poisoning, including both pilots. It is left to a former airforce pilot to bring the crate in safely. Only problem there; during the Korean war a mistake costs the life of his best friend and he has been unable to fly since, afflicted with PTSD. In his case this translates to him intermittently turning the engines off or pointing the plane straight at the ground as he is taken by recurrent flashbacks. Sound familiar at all?

It should do. The 1980 film Airplane is basically a shot-for-shot remake of this effort, plus jokes. Airplane  represented the high point of post Python, Saturday Night Live-type American comedies and is generally considered to be a hoot, even today. The original, however, (also owned by Paramount) though scripted by Arthur Hailey from his book (he went on to write the best seller Airport, also filmed) is a bit of a dirge. Dana Andrews plays it straight down the line as the pilot who is more of a liability than anything- frankly a six year-old could have done a better job. Linda Darnell plays his ex, a little plump by now but still gorgeous. I mean, it's worth getting the plane down in one piece just to preserve her, right?
Truly awful.

CAROL (2015) D- Todd Haynes. An upper-crust New York family are splitting up, and as the relationship moves into its death throes, the woman (Cate Blanchett) finds herself becoming fascinated by a young female photographer (Rooney Mara). They decide to go on a road trip together, but the husband, suspecting his wife is a lezzer and knowing this is regarded as "immoral" by the courts of the day (it is set in the early 50s) sets out to gather some damning evidence against her...

This low key story, beautifully acted and directed, is based on the short story "The Price of Salt" by Patricia Highsmith, hence the atmosphere of threat that seems to pervade every frame. It has gone down a storm, especially in Europe where it won an award in Cannes and was hailed in the US as one of the 10 best films of the year. So far it has only received limited theatrical release here, but trust me, it is definitely worth seeking out.
Excellent.

AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON (2015) D- Joss Whedon. The Marvel comics superheroes get together again to fight implacable foes, this time capable of affecting their minds and turning good guys into bad. How can they defeat their enemies? And do we give a toss?
Yes we do, apparently. Although costing a cool quarter of a billion dollars to make, it has already grossed $1.4 billion, thereby confirming the producers' faith in the project, which was brought out in several formats: 2D, 3D, IMAX and probably feelies too.

I won't lie to you. I got annoyed at around 20 minutes in and, tired and angry, stopped watching altogether after about 45 minutes. Wiki says there are no less than 3000 separate special effects scenes in it, enough to provide sensory overload for all but the most dedicated teenage gamers, for whom I presume the whole film was designed. Compare this with the budget for Carol, which came in at under $12 million and has yet to break even. Perhaps it's me. Avengers scored 74% with Rotten Tomatoes, and as it was made in Britain and provided work for a great many Brits, I should be more charitable. Screw that.
Migraine inducing.

SPONGE BOB SQUARE PANTS: SPONGE OUT OF WATER (2015) D- Paul Tibbitt and Mike Mitchell. Oh no! Someone has stolen the secret formula for Krabby Patties and it's down to Spongebob, ably (sort of) assisted by his mate Patrick the starfish to get it back. All your old friends are here: Squidward, Mr Krabs, Sandy the squirrel (she's the one who has to wear breathing apparatus, cause she's a land animal, right?) and, of course, the dreaded plankton.

Beginning with a story by Stephen Hillenburg, Spongebob's creator, this movie is a lot of fun, with snappy dialogue and pleasing animation. It is something of a rare breed, being a cartoon film not made under the auspices of the all-powerful Disney corporation, who, now they own not only the franchise for all the Marvel comic movies (see above) but also Lucasfilms, is now only slightly less omnipotent than God.

BEFORE MIGNIGHT (2013) W/D- Richard Linklater. A good-looking couple enjoy a brief idyll in a beautiful beach resort in the Peloponnese before returning their jobs, he a successful novelist, she considering a job with the French government. Over the course of one evening they discuss what I call "the 4 Ls"- Life, Love, Liberty and Loss, without coming to any specific conclusions about any of them.

The film's action takes place nine years on from that depicted in the film Before Sunset and eighteen years on from the first film in the trilogy, Before Sunrise. All three films depend on the strength of the writing and of the two main players: Ethan Hawke (Jesse) and Julie Delpy (Celine). Both actors are credited on the screenplay list along with Linklater himself, so one wonders if he works Mike Leigh-style, "devising" scenes rather than giving the actors specific lines to read. Whatever, the result is highly successful and provides an effective antidote to the super- budget, super-hero movies which are so much in vogue right now. The film reminds me to some extent of the films of Eric Rohmer, who made his name in the 60s producing films consisting of highly attractive people discussing the eternal verities long into the night (My Night with Maud, Claire's Knee, Love in the Afternoon). And one thing you have to say about Linklater: he certainly likes a long term project. These films were filmed over an 18 year period, while his film Boyhood was made over the course of no less than 12 years. I have to say I admire that sort of sustained commitment.

8 MILE (2002) D- Curtis Hanson. A white rapper on the mean streets of Detroit is an endangered species, literally, but "B Rabbit" (Eminem, aka Marshall Mathers) is determined to win through the rounds of a rap beat-down to become the premier rapper of the Streets. One problem: he's almost paralysed by stagefright and to begin with can't even get the first word out. But this guy ain't no quitter...

With more than an element of semi-autobiography about it, and a strong central performance from Eminem, this film is highly satisfying, especially the rap component itself, which shows just what a demanding discipline rap is, when contestants must be original, insightful, stay on the beat and above all make it rhyme. Audiences agreed. The film made money, and even won an Oscar for best song of 2002.
Worthwhile.

ANGEL FACE (1952) D- Otto Preminger. An ambulance paramedic (Robert Mitchum) is called to a Beverley Hills mansion where an elderly woman is nearly dead from carbon monoxide poisoning. Despite the circumstances, he strikes up a friendship, which turns to a kind of obsessive love, with the daughter (Jean Simmons). Understandably, this doesn't go down too well with Robert Mitchum's current girlfriend, and a complex triangle begins to develop out of the Sunset Boulevard darkness. This can't end well...

Preminger's film has achieved almost iconic status since its release in 1952. Jean-Luc Goddard regarded as one of the ten best talkies ever to come out of Hollywood, and there is a consensus that it marks one of the peaks of the film noir genre. Its Freudian themes and claustrophobic, surreal atmosphere make it for me one of the finest movies I have seen this year.
Highest recommendation.

NANOOK OF THE NORTH (1922) D- Robert J Flaherty (documentary) Being a day in the life of an Inuk family as they eke out their lives in north-eastern Canada, high above the Arctic Circle. Nanook must catch a seal to feed his family, but they are intelligent, slippery creatures who are as keen to hang onto life as Nanook and his family are. With no tools beyond a harpoon and a length of twine affixed to a lure, the hunt becomes an epic encounter of man against beast, with the highest stakes possible: The Inuk live close to starvation, and if Nanook doesn't take a seal today it will be even harder tomorrow...
Midway through the hunt the weather changes and the family must make an igloo. This is achieved in under an hour using "breezeblocks" of compacted snow, but the interior would be completely dark, so a "skylight" is made in the roof using a block of clear ice taken from a nearby frozen lake. Once completed, the whole family concentrates on the hunt once more.

In a completely unaffected and unsentimental way, director Flaherty creates an incredibly moving film which had me close to tears at several moments,especially when a six month-old baby snuggles into a husky puppy- I'm leaking just recounting it!
After the film came out Flaherty was accused of staging certain sequences, but as documentary film makers have been guilty of doing this ever since, even the great David Attenborough not excepted, I think we can afford to be generous on this occasion. For the result is one of the greatest documentaries ever made: brutally realistic and supremely skilled in its production, and offering a unique insight into a world that has now vanished forever.
Magnificent.

Happy Nooo Year everyone!

Lists: dontcha hate them?

Some people hate lists. My dearest friend, for example, does. I, however, love them. When I was at medical school I created hundreds of them as a way of memorizing the immense slew of information it is necessary for the would-be doctor to absorb. And ever since I have found them of inestimable value in deciding which films to watch (as in the list of 256 "4 star movies" to be found at the end of Halliwells celebrated film guide) or books to read, as may be found in the closing part of Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, where a community of people have committed the text of some of the world's great novels to memory in the absence of written books, most of which have been burned.

Let us start with television. Here there are only two items on the list:
1. BBC TV's Wolf Hall
2. Channel 4's Fargo, series 1 and 2.

Wolf Hall was unquestionably the best thing to come out of British television this year, and is a worthy successor to the great historical dramas of the 60s and 70s, namely The Six Wives of Henry VIII, Elizabeth R  and The Shadow of the Tower.
Both series of Fargo I found gripping, terrifying and totally addictive. Created and in large part written by Noah Hawley, they both exhibited high standards of acting and production values throughout, and completely justified the Coen brothers decision to allow the name of their great movie Fargo to be used.

FIVE BOOKS:

1. THE MAKIOKA SISTERS, by Junichiro Tanizaki
2. BUDDENBROOKS, by Thomas Mann
3. THE LIFE AND TIMES OF THE DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH, by Winston S. Churchill
4. THE WHITE GUARD, by Mikhail Bulgakov
5. THE BOOK OF DAVE, by Will Self

TEN FILMS:
1.  SHOA D- Claude Lanzmann
2.  THE BUENA VISTA SOCIAL CLUB D- Wim Wenders
3.  STILL ALICE W/D- Richard Glatzer
4.  OCTOBER 1917: TEN DAYS THAT SHOOK THE WORLD D- Sergei Eisenstein
5.  BOYHOOD W/D- Richard Linklater
6.  EX MACHINA D- Alex Garland
7.  SOPHIE SCHOLL D- Marc Rothermund
8.  THE TIME THAT REMAINS D- Elia Suleiman
9.  ANGEL FACE D- Otto Preminger
10.NANOOK OF THE NORTH W/D- Robert J Flaherty

Please note these are the best books and films I have encountered for the first time this year. Hence I don't count classics like The Third Man which I saw just a few days ago, possibly for the 27th time. I have been privileged to discover them this year, and you would do very well to do the same next year, should any of them have passed you by thus far. Enjoy!

Media supplement live: The Sleigh Ride

I am midway through BBC4's showing of the brilliant "All Aboard: The Sleigh Ride", which is what it says it is: a two-hour live-action journey across the Norwegian tundra by two women and their three reindeer. What is it about it that one cannot seem to drag one's eyes away from the  trudging? I don't know, but I was soon transported into a kind of zen-like state of calm most unusual for the Christmas period.

All I know is it is compelling television, and a kind that is catching on in Scandi big time: wood fires burning, even someone knitting a woolly jumper. I see it as a revolt from the blaring, tawdry razzle-dazzle of such things as Strictly and the X Factor.

After an hour I popped outside for a pee, and high in the sky a near-full moon was escorted by a great Moondog, a huge pearly halo dogging its path across the heavens. My little Christmas gift, albeit a day early.

Have a good one everybody.

How about this weather, eh?

We Brits love talking about the weather, though we are far from alone in that. In America, the Middle East, even South-east Asia, it is likewise a perennial topic of conversation. But boy, have we ever had something to talk about lately. In November, 352 mm of rain fell in Cumbria, or 14 1/2 inches, the greatest precipitation in Britain since accurate records began in 1889. Last night is believed to have been the warmest night ever recorded in December- and there, records go right back to 1659. Our central heating is primed to go on when the temperature drops below 17 degrees- and it did not come on this morning at 7.15 am.

What will January hold for us? The highest temperature ever recorded in January is 18.6 degrees, improbably somewhere in Scotland. It seems impossible to imagine that record going, but on the basis of what we have just experienced it could happen. 1988 was an exceptional year. In January it was so warm one day we sat out in the warming sun on my birthday (the 11th) while July was so cold, barely 10 degrees on St Swithen's day, the 15th, I clicked on the central heating- the only time in my thirty-one years in this house that has ever been necessary. That summer cold-snap was down to a Mexican volcano, apparently, but why is this "hot-snap" happening? The weather charts show consistent strong southerly airflow, itself unusual in the winter months, though not unprecedented. But those same weather maps show the warm air advancing all the way into the Arctic circle- and what that implies for that region must be a significant cause for concern- for polar bears if not climate change deniers- they've gone a bit quiet now, haven't they?

Paris climate talks: a new hope?

I can still remember clearly the bitter disappointment I felt back in early 2001, when newly installed President George Bush Jr refused to sign up to the Kyoto climate change protocols. Of course he refused because he knew there was no way he would be able to get the changes through Congress, but I just saw it as a very bad omen for the future. But that was then and this is now.

Today it seems likely the US, and even more importantly, China, are on the verge of signing up to making significant reductions in the emissions that are strangling our planet, the only one, as far as I am aware, that we've got. Sure there are still climate change deniers, but I put them in the same category as people who deny the world is more than 6000 years old despite the overwhelming weight of evidence that it is far, far older.

There are still major problems to be overcome, though by far the most important is that capitalism, the world's favourite economic system, is not compatible with care for the environment. The fact is that the more we produce, the more we pollute. Every time you buy blueberries from Argentina, or even munch into a burger, you are expanding your carbon footprint and contributing to climate change. Our lives have to get simpler and our demands less if the Earth is to have any chance of being the Paradise it could be.

I heard some meteorologist on the radio the other day saying "Every time you think, ' this is strange; I've never seen weather like this before', you're right". Once in 500 year weather events like the storms we saw in 2009 and 2014 have been repeated- just this month. Icecaps especially in the Arctic are disappearing faster than at any time in the last million years, and all the evidence suggests that the pace of change is accelerating. The world's nations have to come together right now to minimise these changes- otherwise we're screwed.

Donald Trump: not as stupid as he sounds

Every idiot's favourite presidential candidate knows his electorate and knows it well. Even his latest pronouncement on the banning of Muslim immigration was carefully calculated to appeal to the lowest common denominator amongst the American people- and it worked. Riding on the crest of a wave of paranoia following the killings in San Berdoo, he knows his bigoted words will have struck a chord with thousands or even millions of American voters.

That's how they do it. Hitler came to power on a platform which, inter alia, exploited first the seething resentment among ordinary Germans over their grossly unfair treatment after WWI, and second, the encouragement of underlying racism against the old fall-guys- the Jews. As history attests, it was a highly successful ploy, and Trump is hoping the same tactic will work for him next November. Please God it won't.

Should he be barred from entry into the UK though, as more than 100,00 petitioners have demanded? My answer is no. Let him come over here, if he really wants to (which I doubt) and enter into debate with us. He'll go away with a flea in his ear, and then blame us all for being terrorist sympathisers, or whatever. But it will have been worth it, for him at least. Never underestimate the anti-British feeling that lurks just beneath the surface of your average Yank.

Labour lets itself down

From about the age of 15 I realized, if I may be permitted an over-simplification, that Labour stood for people before profit, while the Tories stood for more or less the opposite. And when I worked that out I began leaning to the left, a position I have maintained ever since.

But the disgraceful events following the vote on Wednesday night have disaffected me profoundly to the ways of what we might call the "Stalinist left" within the Labour party.With people voting to attack Syria being issued death threats, this reminds me of the people who are prepared to kill doctors and nurses who work in abortion clinics. They love life so much, apparently, that they're prepared to kill to preserve it. And here we have people against the bombing of civilians threatening to kill people who support it.

 Even Ken Livingstone, someone for whom I have had the greatest respect for the longest time, has reverted to Stalinist mode when he suggests the war supporters in Parliament should be de-selected. Where's the love of diversity the Labour party has always stood for? I would have voted against extending the bombing, on the grounds that in almost all cases, bombs do not solve problems- rather they tend to create them. I anticipate a terrorist outrage in London within three months as the "price tag" IS will exact for our decision; meanwhile little if anything will change in the troubled region whose troubles we helped create. Strangling IS economically makes more sense, actively exposing the hypocrisy of states like KSA, Qatar and Turkey, all of whom have, either tacitly or openly supported IS or bought oil from them. But I'm not going to threaten the lives of people who disagree with me. That's not my way, and it shouldn't be the view of anyone on the left.

November 2015 book and film review

BOOKS

THE HOUSE OF QUEER TRADES, by G.K. Chesterton. Being a series of long short stories based on the extremely unlikely premise that a club exists where to qualify for membership an aspirant must prove he earns his living in a unique way. Hence we see a man who is employed  to act undercover at a society party solely in order to make another attendee look good. You think that's odd? You haven't heard the half of it. Written in 1905, when writers like Arthur Conan Doyle and GBS were at the height of their powers, this is an early example of the eccentric detective, long before Agatha Christie made a brilliant career out of her eccentric genius, and also predates Chesterton's most famous contribution to the detective genre, Father Brown.

You may find his writing style dated, with its long sentences and excessive punctuation, but these tales also have much to recommend them, especially if you favour the style of modern detectives like Adrian Monk.

THE WHITE GUARD, by Mikhail Bulgakov. It is Kiev in 1918. Following the Russian Revolution, the Russian army has withdrawn from its fight against the Germans and is now pre-occupied by stemming the Bolshevik takeover. One family waits while these spasms come to a head, hoping against hope that their lives and property aren't consumed in the ensuing conflagration. Their hopes are in vain. The men of the family, including a young doctor, are soon press-ganged into taking part in the resistance against the socialists- a resistance everyone can see is futile.

This is the master Bulgakov's first full length novel, and already we see the touch of genius which came to its full fruition in his masterpiece The Master and Margarita. We get right inside the lives, hopes and fears of its characters- the coward who is ultimately brave, the professional soldier who runs away at the critical moment, and all the while, the women who wait while their men leave their houses, maybe never to return. Terrific stuff.

THE UNLIKELY PILGRIMAGE OF HAROLD FRY, by Rachel Joyce.
A recently retired man receives a letter from a woman he hasn't seen for 20 years telling him she is dying. The letter comes from Berwick-on-Tweed, 500 miles from his home in south Devon, but he resolves to walk all the way there. He writes that he is coming, and could she do him the courtesy of remaining alive until he arrives? What follows is an epic journey of the feet, but also of the soul. I would not be spoiling the plot by saying he does get there. At the end of the book there is a route map listing all the way points, including his final destination, complete with the line: "Devon to Berwick- 687 miles in 87 days". So right away we know he makes it, but it is his method of making it that is the substance of this book. So it's not will he make it, but how does he make it? And will Queenie be alive when he does?

Someone once said "It is better to travel hopefully than to arrive", which might be the subtitle to this book. I often walk to collect my thoughts, and therefore I can identify at least to a limited extent the journey of Harold's mind. Walking gives us time to think, and Harold's thoughts inevitably hark back to the past: his marriage, the problems of his troubled son, and Queenie herself, the dying woman who Harold used to work with until the day she suddenly left, without any explanation. What happened?

Rachel Joyce writes  in a simple, unaffected style which suggests she has attended many creative writing courses and learned all the rules of modern writing. It is light-years away from being as skillful as The White Guard, but as modern writing it is pretty good and has certainly captured the imagination of the reading public, who have bought the book in its millions.

THE BOOK OF DAVE, by Will Self.
It is 500 years in the future. Sea levels have risen by more than a hundred feet; most of London and the south of England  is under water, and society appears to have reverted to the middle ages. An elite still rules though, and has based its doctrine on a book found buried in the hills of Hampstead Heath.
Now go back 500 years, to Dave, a London taxi driver prone to depression who struggles through life under the intolerable stresses and strains of a failed marriage. Deprived of access to his son by the courts, he writes an epistle to him to explain his position, but in the event decides to bury it instead. It is this book, full of Dave's bitterness and misogyny, which is uncovered centuries later and offered as the way things should be in the brave new society that has emerged from the depths.

I didn't read this book for a long time after it came out, partly because I heard Self had invented a new language he uses in the book, and to be honest I felt intimidated. I shouldn't have worried. The "new language" turns out to be a phonetic form of contemporary cockney- "mokni" and although there is a learning curve one soon comes to grips with it, aided by a very helpful glossary at the end of the book. And what emerges is a quite extraordinary piece of writing, establishing Will Self as one of the most exciting writers alive today. Here we do find someone whose talent may be meaningfully compared to the greats of an earlier era, like the great Bulgakov himself. Stunning.

FILMS

CLERKS (1994) D- Kevin Smith. Being a day in the life of a bunch of no-hopers who run a convenience store in small town USA, and the even less-hopers who come in to score their fags and booze. Coming with the tag-line: "Just because they know you doesn't mean they like you", and filmed in monochrome, we are guided through an anarchic and sometimes hilarious series of incidents which include the introduction of "Jay and silent Bob", who initially enter the store to shoplift, but then invite the clerks to a party instead. The fact that they're supposed to be working doesn't deter J and SB. Are these people irresponsible or what?

Well written and featuring some surprisingly good acting, this is really quite good, and established Kevin Smith, who also plays Silent Bob, as a new force in American cinema. Noteworthy.

WHIPLASH (2014) D- Damien Chazelle An aspiring drummer (Miles Teller) would become part of an elite music academy, but has to impress their director of music (J.K. Simmons) first. And he is hard to impress. Very hard. His method is teaching through humiliation, a method with which I am familiar from experience with my father, grammar school and especially at medical school. And while it is true that I never forgot the things I learnt in this way, I never forgot how it made me feel either.

The film really revolves around a central anecdote told by the brutal teacher:
"Charlie Parker would never have been great if Joe Jones hadn't thrown a cymbal at him"
Meaning that sometimes extreme measures have to be used to bring the best out in people. Is this right? Do we have to be bullied to reveal our hidden greatness, or are there other, more gentle methods that can achieve the same result? An impressive movie with several fine performances (J.K. Simmons won the best supporting actor Oscar for his portrayal of conductor Terence Fletcher)

WILD (2014) D- Jean-Marc Vallee. Following the failure of her marriage and the death of her mother, Cheryl Strayed decides to walk the 1200 miles of the Pacific Coast Trail as a way of re-booting her life. Only thing, Cheryl hasn't had any previous experience of walking beyond schlepping over to the convenience store. Never mind. She's got her plan and she's going to hang in there, in a way she never really has with anything else in her life.

Comparisons with this film and The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry are inevitable. Both are about epic journeys of self discovery, even though one concerns a gnarly old git and the other one of Hollywood's premier foxes. Both  attempt, in their own way, to discover something vital that has been missing from their lives for so long, and both succeed, though in very different ways. Which leads me to wonder when they're going to film Pilgrimage, with perhaps Jim Broadbent as Harold, Judi Dench as his wife and Vanessa Redgrave as Queenie. It's a smash hit waiting to happen...
While we wait for that, try this very creditable attempt.

AMERICAN SNIPER (2014) D- Clint Eastwood. Chris Kyle is an all-American boy who joins up after 9/11, mainly because he reckons he can put his skills as an outstanding marksman to good effect in Iraq to blow away ragheads. Which he does. And that's the film, right there. We have Sienna Miller playing a peripheral role as his wife, reduced to someone Chris occasionally calls on his mobile, sometimes even at the height of battle. Should he be doing that?

I have a lot of respect for Clint Eastwood, his legendary right-wing politics notwithstanding. He had tremendous screen presence in movies, from his "man with no name" of the "dollar" movies, to his  uniquely successful Dirty Harry roles. Behind the camera too he has enjoyed great success, especially with the brilliant Unforgiven and the twin movies about the Battle of Iwo Jima, told first from the American and then the Japanese perspectives. But here he has faltered. American Sniper turns out to be little more than a jingoistic, chauvinistic rant on why the USA is number One. Bradley Cooper does well with what he is given, but the character of Chris Kyle (a real person, who was himself shot by a nutter with a gun- those who live by the sword, etc) is almost a cypher.
Disappointing.

STARMAN (1984) D- John Carpenter. You remember when they put a special golden record on the Voyager One spacecraft so that after it left the solar system any extra-terrestrial culture might have an insight into the humans who sent it? OK, So ET does find it and sends Jeff Daniels to Earth to do some field work. First move, and a wise one, is to snag Karen Allen. He does this partly by obtaining a lock of her late husband's hair and morphing himself into an exact copy of him. But as we might expect, the Men in Black get to hear of him and would cart him off to Area 51 and dissect him out.

John Carpenter is another American director I have a lot of time for. Ever since his terrific debut Dark Star and the even better Assault on Precinct 13 he has been making highly watchable, if sometimes flawed movies. And this one, which I somehow missed when it came out in the 80s, is one of his best. Jeff Daniels has rarely been stronger, and Karen Allen's understated performance is excellent.

MY SUMMER OF LOVE (2004) D- Pawel Pawlekowski. Working class girl Mona (Natalie Press) is being driven mad by her brother (Paddy Considine) who has turned the pub left to them by their parents into a happy-clappy meeting house. She turns to a wealthy girl of her own age (Emily Blunt) and an unlikely friendship develops. But will it stand the clash of very different cultures? Turns out poor little rich girl has a past of her own, being expelled from her posh finishing school for getting drunk. So maybe there can be a meeting of minds. Or can there?

Set and filmed in Yorkshire, this well written and directed Brit movie went down well, with a lot of praise for the two central performances. Certainly worth a look.

MADAME BOVARY (1991) D- Claude Chabrol. A beautiful, but bored girl from Normandy (Isabelle Huppert) thinks she has done well to snag the local GP, but almost immediately realizes she has made a big mistake. It isn't long before she is seeking solace in the arms of another. And another...
Following closely the text of the original classic from French master Gustave Flaubert, this sensitively made film is graced by the extraordinary, but highly unconventional beauty of  La Huppert, one of France's finest actresses. It is she who makes us believe in the story, as much as Chabrol.
Madame Bovary was remade only last year with Mia Wasikowska in the lead role. I haven't seen it yet, but it will have to be very good indeed to better this earlier effort.