Pre-amble

Hello, and welcome to Films on Friday, the Advertiser's weekly movie guide. Below you'll find our jaunt through the week's films on TV, offering more impassioned arguments and dreadful jokes than you can shake a stick at. Or would care to.

Over on page 3 is our DVD of the Week, and if you'd care to go in my front room and have a quick look in the blue folder, you'll find my notes for the "very exciting potential feature" I was trumpeting last week. I hope it comes to something.

Thanks - as ever - for reading this and I apologise for the atypical brevity of this first bit. It's a monster Films on TV guide this week, so all my time's gone on that.

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From the Mailbag

It's always a pleasure to read correspondence from elab49 and she's been in touch again this week. Whilst lavishing Culloden and My Favourite Brunette with praise, she has a few cruel things to say about both Batman Begins and Just Like Heaven, as well as this view of the almighty mess that is Rancho Notorious: "I know it's not great. But I do think it is pretty convincingly violent - and mixing and matching the western to those nice little wallpapered rooms is pretty interesting. Enough to get it another mark at least, I think."

doncopey1 also pitched in, echoing our trashing of Rancho. "The acting is below-par despite the strong credentials of Kennedy and Dietrich, the set designs are utter dross, and don't get me started on the title," he says.

Our third guest reviewer this week is Professor Moriarty (presumably not that one), who got in contact to defend The Mask - not an enviable task. "I'd never seen Ace Ventura, so I was immune to Carrey's gurning when I saw that, and cleverly the director managed to put a green mask over him and cover this up for most of the film," he says. "The Mask makes me smile. It's not the greatest movie ever, but it has the ability to lift my mood. I will admit that I get bored by the last 20 minutes, but up to then I do think it is classic Hollywood: a real simple story of: 'Boy meets girl, boy puts on green mask and becomes cartoon character, girl has very, very long legs.' It's like Cyd Charisse but with more dog tricks involved." That made me laugh rather a lot.

If you want to make me laugh (and who wouldn't), please direct all gags, jokes, puns and generally fatuous comments to rick.burin@ypn.co.uk

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Films on TV - Your guide to the week ahead
Sep 12 to 18

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 12

Today offers a veritable bonanza of entertainment, with no fewer than SEVEN interesting movies to choose from. And only two of them are rubbish.

Bobby Driscoll was Disney's great child star of the 1940s, appearing in the classic (and enduringly controversial) Song of the South and later providing the basis for the studio's Peter Pan, which was shot as a live action movie starring Driscoll, then converted to cartoon form. He was the boy who cried murder in the sleeper hit of 1949, The Window, and the kid learning about love in Richard Fleischer's wonderful 1952 coming-of-age saga, The Happy Time. But his story was not a happy one. The precocious youngster, regarded by Don Ameche and many others as the best child actor Hollywood had ever seen, was sacked by Disney aged 16, supposedly because he had pimples. From then on his career went downhill and his life spiralled out of control. He died from drug abuse at 31 and was buried in an unmarked pauper's grave at New York's Potter's Field. But his work endures, and there's only of his loveliest characterisations on our screens today, as Jack Hawkins in Disney's fine 1950 rendering of Treasure Island (1950, ITV1, 10.45am), which was the studio's first foray into live action movies. This flavourful, expensive-looking adaptation is just a touch below the classic '34 version of the book, and if Robert Newton is perhaps a little much in the role of Long John Silver, you won't forget him, or the supremely talented Driscoll, in a hurry. Ideal for both grown-ups and kids. (4/5)

The Man From Laramie (1955, BBC2, 2.20pm) is a stunning revenge yarn and one of the best James Stewart-Anthony Mann Westerns: movies that reshaped the genre during the 1950s. Stewart, in the form of his life, is a mysterious stranger who rides into a border town and refuses to leave - or divulge his mission - even after tangling with the cowardly, psychotic son of a local land baron. Excellent performances, incisive plotting (including a crucial subplot that bears more than a passing resemblance to King Lear) and great cinematography light up this superior genre flick, which only falls short of greatness by pulling its punches in the final third. (4/5)

How the West Was Won (1962, Five, 4.20pm) is an ambitious epic western that boasts an extraordinary cast (including seven Oscar winners and 10 nominees), but rarely delivers on its promise. Filmed in the short-lived Cinerama technique, which required three projectors and a massive curved screen, it inevitably suffers on TV, as three directors present five chapters detailing the exploits of four generations of a family who head out west from New York in 1839. The 17-minute segment directed by John Ford, entitled The Civil War, in unquestionably the highlight. Ford biographer Joseph McBride said the conflict had been Ford's chief interest in life, with moviemaking a distant second. But the director made just two forays into civil war film, the immensely disappointing 1959 movie, The Horse Soldiers, and his mesmerising contribution here, which sees Zeb (George Peppard) becoming a man in the theatre of war. It's improbable, manipulative and morally confused, but also masterfully directed and extremely powerful. The other stuff is spotty, with an impressive scope, but too many diversions, too much fragmentation of the narrative and a soapiness that's a bit wearying. Still, for the Ford section, the bravura rafting sequence in the opening chapter and the sheer wonder of seeing that many stars in a single film, it's worth catching. Cast members include James Stewart, Henry Fonda, Gregory Peck, John Wayne, Richard Widmark, Debbie Reynolds, Walter Brennan, Lee J. Cobb, Carroll Baker, Karl Malden, Harry Morgan, Eli Wallach, Richard Widmark, Andy Devine, Raymond Massey, Agnes Moorhead, Thelma Ritter and Russ Tambyln, with Spencer Tracy narrating. (3/5)

National Treasure (2004, BBC3, 9.05pm) is absolute garbage in the Tomb Raider/Da Vinci Code vein, with Nicolas Cage as a gung-ho historian who has to nick the Declaration of Independence to solve some completely impenetrable, incoherent mystery. Painful to the eyes, ears and brain. (1/5)

Brigadoon (1954, BBC4, 10.45pm) is perhaps the most underrated of all MGM musicals, with Gene Kelly and Van Johnson as Americans who go on a hunting trip to Scotland and stumble upon the mysterious, miraculous village of the title. It's sheer escapism for an hour, perfectly fusing fantasy and comedy, before the tragic elements kick in. And there's so much to enjoy, like Kelly's vibrant performance, a slew of excellent songs - Cyd Charisse's 'Waitin' For My Dearie' (dubbed by Carole Richards), Kelly's 'It's Almost Like Being in Love' and the unforgettable highlight, 'Heather on the Hill', danced by Kelly and Charisse - and a magical finale. If there's a flaw, it's the dearth of songs in the second half, but this is highly recommended regardless, with a finely honed sense of wonder positively coursing through its centre. (5/5)

Sin City (2005, BBC2, 11.15pm) is a neat spin on classic film noir, with a dose of extreme oddness alongside the stock characters and ever-present shadows. Based on a Frank Miller comic (the artist co-directed with Robert Rodriguez), it's shot in black and white – with some splashes of colour – and tells four interweaving, pulpy tales (a la Pulp Fiction), three of which are thoroughly memorable and one that's a bit rubbish. The best, titled The Hard Goodbye, has a great performance from Mickey Rourke as Marv, a hulking, bandaged hitman reminiscent of Mike Hammer, only more so. There's a nice opening segmet featuring Josh Hartnett, and an engrossing chapter with Bruce Willis and a terrifying, bright yellow Nick Stahl. But The Big Fat Kill, about empowered, sword-wielding prostitues, is overlong and somewhat embarrassing, playing like a nerd's – rather than a visionary's – idea of what noir is really about. Still, for the most part the film is vigorously entertaining, with a good balance of originality and homage. (4/5)

Jet Li made some fantastic films before his ill-fated decampment to Hollywood (Once Upon a Time in China I and II and Fist of Legend), but The Legend (1993, BBC2, 1.10am SUN) is not one of them. Uncompelling storywise and fuzzily-shot, with irritating comic relief and an inexplicable twist, it's a major letdown, though there's some succour to be found in the fight sequences. While the punch-ups are rather badly filmed, the sight of Jet Li in combative mode is still one of cinema's most breathtaking sights. Like Fred Astaire on the dancefloor, he's a blur of intricate, masterful movements, and really something to behold. Li apparently regards The Legend (or Fong Sai-Yuk, as it's titled elsewhere) as one of his best films, but since he's spent much of the last 10 years making the worst career choices in history, I'm not sure he's the best judge. (2/5)


SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 13

*SOME SPOILERS*
The Ipcress File (1965, BBC2, 1.15pm) is extremely stylish and well put-together, which more than makes up for a slightly slim plot. Michael Caine plays the anti-Bond. No, not a Russian, but a thoughtful spy who's considerate to his lady friends and doesn't mind cooking. His character, Harry Palmer, is also an eternal smarty-pants. "Dalby doesn't have my sense of humour," Palmer's monotonical boss (Guy Doleman) says, as he transfers him to another department. "I shall miss that," Caine deadpans, without missing a beat. The story concerns a nest of foreign agents, who kidnap a British scientist and indulge in a spot of brainwashing. It's a showy film, moving at a fair crack and with numerous twists - most of which make sense. And if it can't quite match the ethical uncertainty of the year's great espionage film, The Spy Who Came in From the Cold, that's probably because it's a different sort of film: a notch smarter (and more realistic) than Bond, but lacking the street smarts and bitterness of Le Carre's finest work. (4/5)

Or if you prefer your Caine with a dash of foppishness, why not try The Wrong Box (1966, Five, 12.50pm)? This broad comedy collects a dazzling array of British talent, including old timers Johnny Mills and Ralph Richardson, blossoming star Caine and hot comics Pete and Dud, but unfortunately doesn't amount to a great deal. It does have an ace up its sleeve, though, in the guise of Peter Sellers. He's breathtaking, a perfect marriage of poignancy and belly laughs as the useless, booze-sodden Doctor Pratt, and strolls off with the film despite having just two short scenes. The rest is wildly uneven, with too much screentime wasted on Caine's effeminate, unfunny performance. (3/5)

The other week I suggested that Natural Born Killers was a bit of a failure, its arresting style unable to salvage much from a script entirely lacking in substance. Well, JFK (1991, BBC2, 11.20pm) shows what can be done when director Oliver Stone's considerable skills are applied to something worthy of his attention. The film follows Jim Garrison (Kevin Costner, who's excellent), a crusading D.A. who's trying to unpick the Warren Commission's supposed whitewashing of the Kennedy assassination. While his conclusions seem to be that Kennedy was killed by a conspiracy of gays, it's still a fascinating, strident, often brilliant movie, with a superb denouement. A stellar supporting cast include Jack Lemmon, Walter Matthau, Sissy Spacek, Donald Sutherland and John Candy, and our alleged patsy - Gary Oldman - really does look like Oswald. (4/5)

Home Alone 2: Lost in New York (1991, Five, 4.55pm) adds a further layer of sickly sentimentality to proceedings, and gives its central sociopath (Macauley Culkin) a new gizmo with which to wreak his own brand of sickeningly violence justice: a dictaphone. But other than that it's a retread of the first film, albeit in a new location (complete with some heavy duty product placement). Culkin's left home alone. Enter crims. Exit crims, on fire. And repeat. (2/5)

Also stupid is Dumb and Dumber (1994, Five, 9pm), a film that's exuberantly committed to the concept of utter idiocy. Jeff Daniels and a bowl-headed Jim Carrey are the title figures, unknowingly involved with criminals as they try to return a suitcase of money to its owner (Lauren Holly). There are good gags - "I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention", "According to the map, we've only gone four inches", the parakeet - but plenty of weak ones too: diarrhoea, tongues stuck to icy poles, more diarrhoea. I've seen funnier movies, but plenty of worse ones too (most of them made by the Farrelly Brothers). (3/5), just about.


MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 14

Remember the buzz around Eminem's film debut? Remember how underwhelmed we all were when we finally saw it? There's a chance to relive that feeling of crushing disappointment tonight, as 8-Mile (2002, ITV1, 10.35pm) gets a Freeview airing. This semi-autobiographical account of the rapper's rise to stardom is helped by his megawatt charisma, but suffers from being cliched, watered-down and peculiarly short on music. It's telling that the best song on the CD soundtrack, 'Run Rabbit Run' (not that one), is never heard in the film. Kim Basinger, Mekhi Phifer and Brittany Murphy compete for the title of 'worst performance', with outsider Basinger (so good in LA Confidential) somehow coming out on top. (2/5)

The Blue Dahlia (1946, Sky Classics, 8.30am and 4.10am TUE) is a memorable but flawed film noir from Paramount featuring the familiar Alan Ladd-Veronica Lake team. Beginning with a glorious sight gag, it proceeds to mire us in misery, as Ladd returns from war to find his missus with another man. When she winds up dead, he's the chief suspect, and has to team with deceptively nice floozy Lake to clear his name. This one is loaded with writer Raymond Chandler's usual poetic dialogue, and hums with atmosphere and imagination; if only it had kept his daring original ending (this link contains spoilers), it might have been a classic. As it is, it's compelling but compromised. (4/5)

And, as plugged last week, there's another chance to see City of God (2003, Film4, 10.45pm), which is like an update of the seminal Brazilian film Pixote, as slum kids turn to crime as a way out of poverty. It's often dizzyingly brilliant, with labyrinthine plotting, spellbinding gold-tinged photography and a compelling storyline. If you're new to world cinema, this is as good a place to start as any - I'd really recommend it. (Though it's still not as good as Pixote.) (5/5)


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