Ruben Fleischer became a director to watch with 2009’s frenetic Zombieland, which blended zany humour with the undead-related gore more typical of the genre we know and love. No great surprise, then, that his next flick should be another fast-paced buddy comedy: 30 Minutes Or Less.

Fleischer’s latest effort shares a number of characteristics with his first movie – the same lead (Jesse Eisenberg), quick-fire gags, and a touch of peril to keep our nerves frayed. This time, though, we swap survival horror for... well, just survival, with a side serving of pizza and bombs.

Our unlikely hero is Nick, a pizza delivery guy whose dismal life is about to get far, far worse. Eight years after graduation, he’s still in a dead-end job working for a boss he loathes and pining after the girl he loves, Kate (Dilshad Vadsaria). Kate happens to be the twin sister of his best friend, Chet (Aziz Ansari), who shares all Nick’s slacker tastes in heist films, booze and fast-food, but somehow manages to combine all this with a teaching job and the trappings of adulthood.

When Chet learns of Nick’s graduation-night romp with his sister, the pair break their friendship spectacularly with a ludicrous fight any ten-year-old could be proud of. This is unfortunate for Nick, as he’s about to find himself in a situation where a trusted pal – even one as daft as Chet – could be awfully useful.

Dwayne (Danny McBride) and his only friend Travis (Nick Swardson) are basically Nick and Chet’s evil twins. A sad man holed up with his hated father, The Major (a funny and underused Fred Ward) Dwayne’s constantly plotting his escape. The only way to fund his dream of a tanning salon-cum-brothel (aim high, kids!) is to bump off his domineering, wealthy dad and pocket the inheritance. When Dwayne’s favourite lapdancer, Juicy (Bianca Kajlich), suggests a hitman she knows for the job, all Dwayne and henchman Travis need to do is find the money for said assassin.

What they badly need is a stooge to commit a bank robbery for them, someone with a getaway car, who they can lure into their grasp under false pretences. Someone just like a certain pizza delivery guy, in fact. The luckless Nick is soon at their mercy. Strapped to a remote-controlled bomb vest, he has just ten hours to commit a bank robbery and get Dwayne his $100,000. He knows that only Chet could be stupid enough to help him try. Can the two friends make up, get the cash, and save Nick from a fiery end?

It’s a rare thing these days when an action movie doesn’t outstay its welcome, but 30 Minutes Or Less runs at such breakneck speed that it practically lives up to Nick’s delivery promise. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, as it keeps the main plot relatively tight and snappy, but Michael Diliberti’s screenplay does attempt to pack in a few extra twists that simply don’t have time to work effectively. Nick and Kate’s relationship drama ultimately exists only as a plot device and lumbers Vadsaria with a dull and underwritten role. Shame, as the scene where a frantic Nick finally declares his feelings is rather lovely, and almost seems to belong in a different film.

Speaking of things that belong in a different film, the casting of Jesse Eisenberg as Nick marks 30 Minutes Or Less out as a curiosity. The Oscar-nominated star of The Social Network is certainly on very different turf here, but he’s great in the role, showing off impeccable comic timing while bringing deeper emotion to the film’s heavier moments. However, his presence highlights the reason why actors with proper dramatic chops aren’t usually cast in broad comedies of this variety.

The scene where he’s held captive by a masked Dwayne and Travis as they demonstrate their explosive skills on a teddy bear is meant to be riotously funny, but Nick’s hyperventilating panic is scarily real, making it pretty difficult to laugh. The comic chemistry between Eisenberg, McBride and Swardson proves more effective when the baddies are at a distance and Nick’s free to revert to his usual wisecracking self over the phone, something that Eisenberg does with aplomb. 

Eisenberg and Ansari work extremely well together throughout, the former’s deadpan delivery blending well with his stand-up co-star’s shrill - and often hilarious - outbursts. Ansari’s given many of the movie’s best lines, and makes the most of them; his finest hour’s a brilliantly random, rambling monologue as he muses on whether or not to help Nick. What of chief villain McBride, still in the doghouse for many after Your Highness?

Admittedly, I’m an unreliable witness, as he’s got a lifetime pass from me for his appearance in 2007’s Hot Rod, but he’s pretty good value here, and given nice, understated comic support by Swardson. The two even manage to build a mildly touching buddy rapport by the film’s end, highlighting the amusing parallels between the opposing pairs at the plot’s centre. Michael Peña is also great fun as the lisping hitman hired to do Dwayne’s dirty work.  

30 Minutes Or Less works best when it opts for witty gags or silly, broad slapstick. The opening sequence, where Nick performs all manner of pizza-droppingly scary tricks as he speeds through town in his beloved Mustang, is inspired, while the central bank robbery works well, despite being oddly brief. Extra points are awarded for excellent allusions to various action classics, from Die Hard  to Point Break, plus some great musical references, because The Heat Is On never fails. Where the film misfires is in its occasional lapses into crudity for crudity’s sake.

The utterly unnecessary topless sequence and a few dumb, unfunny racist and sexist barbs lower the bar, souring an otherwise fun and clever screenplay. It’s all the more annoying given that the script frequently does rise to the challenge of combining F-bomb-strewn outbursts with genuine wit. Mention must be made of the bizarrely rushed ending that appears to be setting up a highly unlikely sequel, although that could in itself be a reference to the dafter kind of ‘80s action franchises clearly beloved of the film’s writers.

Ultimately, 30 Minutes Or Less doesn’t quite have classic potential. The shifts in tone around its darker plot elements are problematic (echoes of a real-life tragedy involving a pizza delivery driver killed by a bomb in similar circumstances caused controversy on its US release) while a few lazy jokes detract from some genuinely great scenes. However, it’s still an oddly likeable and consistently entertaining flick, providing Eisenberg with a welcome chance to excel at comedy, and giving Ansari a platform for more lead roles.

Job done in only 83 minutes... and no, you’re not getting your money back.

Disc

The extras for the DVD release are fairly standard, amounting to a fun but brief making-of feature (Blowing Up With The Cast And Crew Of 30 Minutes Or Less) and a set of deleted scenes and inessential outtakes.

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You can rent or buy 30 Minutes Or Less at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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Shot entirely on the Isle of Man, Albatross tells the story of Emelia Conan Doyle (Jessica Brown-Findlay), a troubled 17-year-old budding writer who befriends Beth (Felicity Jones) while working at the hotel owned by Beth’s father Jonathan (Sebastian Koch). Emilia’s (ahem) free-spirited nature ignites a rebellious streak in Beth, and sexual tension with Jonathan, much to the chagrin of his wife Joa (Julia Ormond). Sadly, it's all a lot less interesting than it should have been, though.

One of the reasons that Albatross fails is that, despite its coming-of-age handle, the film deals with a multitude of themes and plot points in rapid succession. Focus is divided between Emelia turning Beth into an equally decadent young woman and her affair with Jonathan, along with a lot of other tangential nonsense that often falls by the wayside. Over the course of the film, we see issues of writer’s block, teen rebellion, extramarital affairs, pregnancy scares and even dementia fight each other for screen time, meaning none have any impact.

Miss Conan Doyle is probably the film’s biggest problem. Written as a deluded fantasist who not only believes she’s genuinely related to the Sherlock Holmes author (as she’s quick to remind people), but also that wearing mismatched clothing and, gasp, underage drinking makes her a rebel. The film’s constant need to telegraph everything about its protagonist constantly undermines any effect it’s trying to have.

Everyone acts like Amelia’s actions are shocking and outrageous when in reality they’re eye-rollingly tame. She only mention the F-word to pass for wit, and everyone smiles and the music twinkles as though we’ve just watched George Carlin crush a heckler. Maybe she would seem rebellious to a quaint, old-fashioned seaside community, but the film is happy to simply soak up the Isle of Man’s scenery rather than characterise it.

You can see the film’s problem of inconsistency in its title, in this case referring to Emelia’s fantasy as being a burden around her neck that’s keeping her from reaching her true potential as a writer. Yet her belief that’s she’s related to Conan Doyle never stops her writing, and her biggest problems come from the fact that she makes stupid decisions for her own indulgence. It’s not so much an albatross as a red herring, unnecessarily shoehorned in for poignancy points.

The only credit you can give its use is that it features in the film’s one enjoyable scene, delivered by none other than Peter Vaughn from Game Of Thrones, who seems to be the only member of the talented cast whose performance can elevate the sub-par material.

Ordinarily, I like actresses Jessica Brown-Findlay and Felicity Jones, and both give serviceable performances that unfortunately do nothing for the film. Here the Downton Abbey star is badly miscast, as her upper-class accent is ill-suited to a supposedly dirt poor character, and lacks the comedic skill to overcome the clumsy humour.

By contrast, Jones shines in what is mostly a do-nothing role, if not overselling her unconditional love for Emelia (almost reaching My Summer Of Love territory). The real albatross around this film’s neck, though, is Koch. Brilliant though he was in The Lives Of Others, Koch seems strangely lifeless in a role that demands both charm and sympathy.

Finding the good in Albatross, like the strong performances and the enjoyable scene with Vaughn, requires far too much sifting through the bad. The clumsy dialogue, inconsistency of plot and lifeless or outright irritating characters make this a truly sub-standard coming of age tale.

Disc

Aside from the trailer, we get a scant ten-minute making-of documentary in which screenwriter Tamzin Rafn hints at the amount of wish-fulfilment that went into the script. Given that the film lacks any technical innovation to document, the most the making-of can offer is some gorgeous shots of the Isle of Man.

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You can rent or buy Albatross at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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Part of the appeal of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy was brought home to me by something that novelist John le Carre said about his most enduring creation (and this story’s central protagonist), George Smiley. “He sees a lot and can do nothing about it. And seeing a lot is very painful”.

In bringing le Carre’s novel to the big screen, Director Tomas Alfredson ensures that his audience also “sees a lot” and does so in such a way that it seems as though almost every frame is loaded with some degree of significance. However, for the audience (unlike Smiley) seeing a lot is far from painful. Instead, it is an absolute joy, as the film’s complex narrative of secrets and lies within the Secret Intelligence Service unfolds against the flawless backdrop of a perfectly realised 1970s Britain.

The story starts with Control (John Hurt), the head of British Intelligence, sending agent Jim Prideaux (Mark Strong) to Hungary to bring out a General who has intimated that he has information of vital importance. However, the mission is a disaster when Prideaux is shot, and in the ensuing political fall-out, Control and his deputy George Smiley (Gary Oldman) are forced into retirement. Percy Alleline (Toby Jones) takes over as Control, having established his credentials by delivering highly valuable information from a Soviet spy, which he plans to share with the Americans on a quid pro quo basis. Meanwhile, Smiley is summoned by a senior civil servant to covertly investigate allegations from a British Agent that there is a mole at the top of the Secret Service. Smiley has his suspicions, and also doubts the veracity of Alleline’s Soviet source.

When I was leaving the cinema after seeing this at the end of last year, I overheard a punter joking that the British lighting industry was obviously dead if this movie was anything to go by, while his partner admitted that she was baffled by the events that had just unfolded. I couldn’t agree with the former, as I felt that the film’s dour shades perfectly reflected the story’s sombre themes of suspicion and betrayal. However, I did have some sympathy for the latter, as this is a film that makes few concessions to an audience looking to be led by the hand through its complex plot.

With minimal exposition, few narrative signposts and a habit of casually divulging important information in the middle of conversations that quickly move on, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy makes the sorts of demands of its audience that few mainstream films do. Nevertheless, give this film the time and attention it deserves, and you’ll be rewarded with one of the most engrossing British spy films of all time.

As he demonstrated with Let The Right One In, Alfredson has the knack of convincingly setting extraordinary events within mundane context. Here, we see some seemingly very ordinary men and women operating within a world of secrets and information so jealously guarded that constant paranoia is the accepted way of thinking; a state of mind that is worn on the face of almost every character who makes up the higher echelons of the British Intelligence Service. And what faces they are, Alfredson’s camera eagerly exploring the lines and furrows of the likes of John Hurt, Toby Jones, Ciarán Hinds, Mark Strong and Colin Firth so closely that we learn more about them from their expressions than we do from their words.

This is especially so of Gary Oldman’s George Smiley, Oldman playing him like some sort of human x-ray machine. His eyes often fill the screen, every flicker enhancing the impression that Smiley reads and understands people to a greater extent than most. He often says very little, but still gives the impression of a razor sharp mind, as well as the repressed emotions and buried hurt of a singular individual who dares to offer neither judgement nor trust. To convey all this in a performance that is so still and so restrained really is a remarkable piece of acting.

In a pivotal scene, he and Peter Guillam (Benedict Cumberbatch) are discussing Karla, the head of Soviet Intelligence. Tired and slightly drunk, Smiley recounts how he once met Karla when tasked with the job of persuading him to defect to the West. Smiley says that he failed because Karla is a fanatic, and that is why he knows he can be beaten, as all fanatics hold a secret doubt.

In this moment of vulnerability, Oldman really lets us see who Smiley is; a man who holds no such doubts, because he sees the world and everyone in it exactly as they are, making him somebody who is too pragmatic and world weary to hold the kind of ideals that could ever be threatened. This enables him to do the job that he does, to witness betrayals both personal and professional and sometimes even use people himself, all the while retaining the semblance of a good man. It’s a moment that brilliantly conveys the pain le Carre spoke of, Alfredson’s lens enhancing a sadness that is already evident behind the thick frames of Smiley’s spectacles.

All of these performances are supported by a story and script that gives immense depth to every character, even those with whom we’re only briefly acquainted. A romantic subplot involving British agent Ricki Tarr (Tom Hardy) and Irina (Svetlana Khodchenkov), a Soviet operative desperate to defect is genuinely affecting; all the more so because of the brevity with which it is resolved.

Then there are the devastating consequences on Guillam’s private life when Smiley warns him he may be under suspicion from colleagues, a distraught Guillam having to ask his male lover to move out of the flat they share together. Such scenes manage to deliver maximum impact with the greatest of economy, and it is a testament to the skill with which Peter Straughan and the sadly departed Bridgette O’Connor have constructed their screenplay that these things matter to us without distracting from the central plot.

In many ways, this is a spy movie that succeeds because we see the protagonists as vulnerable and flawed individuals, much like us. Its story is about international espionage and Cold War intrigue, but its concerns of trust, suspicion and sacrifice are our own. It’s about as far removed from the high octane approach of ‘the other fella’ as you could imagine, eschewing broad brush strokes and instead working its canvas with precision and restraint.

The period detail is flawless, from the wallpaper that adorns the walls of Control’s office, to the brown and grey suits that move through rooms clouded in cigarette smoke. The cinematography is superb, enhancing the British noir stylings of the film’s design, while portraying a world of drabness and frayed edges in that hyper real way that only cinema can ever really achieve.

In fact, this is a movie where every aspect of the production is perfectly attuned, as Alfredson’s direction, the actor’s performances, and a superb script combine to imbue every scene, every glance, and every verbal exchange with possible meaning; some of it important, some of it not. Either way, all of it is enthralling.

I don’t know if this is it for Gary Oldman and Tomas Alfredson as far as George Smiley is concerned (both have hinted it may not be). Le Carre wrote two sequels to his novel with The Honourable Schoolboy and Smiley’s People both furthering the rivalry between Karla and Smiley. There’s something about the way this film ends that feels like the beginning of something else. However, if this is the end for Oldman’s Smiley, then the final scenes provide us with some degree of closure, a montage set to Julio Iglesias singing a disco version of La Mer. Like almost everything else about this film, it is exquisitely judged.

Disc

There are plenty of extras to get through, although their quality varies. The highlights are a wonderful 30 minute interview with John le Carre (although the sound doesn’t pick up the interviewer, meaning that you can barely hear the questions) and a commentary from Alfredson and Oldman. Another strong feature are the interviews with several members of the cast, where it is clear just how much of a labour of love this was for most of them.

There are a number of featurettes on various aspects of the production although much of the content is taken from the more extensive interviews found elsewhere. A Sky Movies special is more of a throwaway piece of fluff, along with a featurette that covers the UK premiere.

Finally, the opening two chapters from the other two books in le Carre’s Karla trilogy are included (as audio books read by Michael Jayston) along with the usual teaser and trailer.

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You can rent or buy Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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Ratina: You trust this man?
Ali Khan: Like my own brother.
Ratina: You killed your brother.
Ali Khan: That is why I trust him.

You might think that any film featuring dialogue like this, where one of the principles is a wildly over the top Oliver Reed, might at least be worth a look for the delights of its script alone. Sadly, this exchange is one of the few highlights of a Hammer studios production that wastes an intriguing premise and is notable only for being Reed’s final film for Hammer, and for the possibility that it may well have been the inspiration for Carry On Up the Khyber.

Ronald Lewis plays Lieutenant Robert Case, a serving officer of mixed race descent in the British Raj. And as this is set in the 1880s, this means he has plenty of enemies who object to his rise through the ranks. However, because this was made in the 1960s, it also meant casting an actor who looked about as Indian as a Yorkshire pudding and blacking him up.

Racial insensitivities of yesteryear aside, the action kicks off with Case reporting back to his superiors following the capture of a fellow officer by local bandits. But what’s that? The captured officer was also the husband of the woman with whom Case was having an affair? Well, that’s just not cricket now, is it? So before you can say “trumped up charge”, Case is jailed for cowardice, escapes and is forced to join up with a group of rebels led by Ali Khan (Oliver Reed), a half-mad, Oxbridge educated despot (some things never change). Case then swears to take revenge on Colonel Drewe (Duncan Lamont), the man responsible for his downfall.

At this point you might be hoping for a fast paced drama of derring-do that examines the conflicting loyalties at work within a character who feels the pull of two distinct cultures, but knows he can never truly be accepted by either. Although this may have been the intention, such efforts are undermined by plodding direction, unconvincing performances and some muddled characterisation.

Director John Gilling would go on to deliver a couple of excellent Hammer horrors the following year with Plague Of The Zombies and The Reptile. Both of these films would demonstrate comparatively high production values that belied their limited budgets and proved how effective a director Gilling could be. However, The Brigand Of Kandahar looks like a movie that has been thrown together, an impression compounded by the fact that it saw Oliver Reed, Ronald Lewis and Yvonne Romain seeing out their Hammer contracts, as well as being the last film Columbia Pictures co-produced with the British studio. A sense of “let’s just get this one of the way” permeates the whole production.

Its cheapness is illustrated best in some battle scenes that initially look impressive, before one of the actors is superimposed in the foreground and you realise that Gilling was using stock footage from another film entirely (the Victor Mature vehicle Zarak in fact). The only original battle footage Gilling musters up is very studio-bound, and although the leads and dozens of extras attack these scenes with gusto, it takes the sort of suspension of disbelief found only in the most devoted fans to find any of it particularly convincing.

None of which would be insurmountable if the performers were more believable. Unfortunately, Ronald Lewis as Case is terribly miscast and wears the same unyielding expression throughout, a stoic mask of supressed fury tinged with a whisper of sorrow. At least that’s what you might guess he was attempting to convey. Most of the time he wears the sort of look of impotent rage you might see on someone who’d just got home from a hard day at the office, only to find that one of their kids had finished off that chocolate éclair the Mrs had got for them, and which they’d really been looking forward to all day.

As for Oliver Reed, his performance consists mainly of the kind of dastardly cackling only ever associated with maniacal movie villains, the kind that in real life usually ends in a lung busting coughing fit and some concerned pats on the back. As good an actor as Reed was, he could also be a ham of Porky Pig proportions, and this movie proves it, showing little sign of the heights he would be capable of hitting at other times in his career.

Although there are very few actors who come out of the whole enterprise with much credibility, one who does is Glyn Houston, a very familiar face from British films and TV for almost 50 years. As a journalist sent out to the region by the Times, Houston appears destined to emerge as the hero that the film so desperately needs, the one character who exhibits any sort of moral compass and with whom the audience can identify. It’s a shame, then, that he is too readily side-lined for this to ever transpire.

So what we’re left with is Lieutenant Case, Ali Khan and Colonel Drew; three antagonists who frequently seem as bad as each other, although clearly our sympathies are supposed to lie with Case. There’s a moment towards the end that seems to be urging us to believe that Case was the tragic hero, as it attempts to evoke (and blatantly rips off) the melodramatic climax of King Vidor’s Duel In The Sun (1946). But given that the scene takes place between two characters who up to that point have demonstrated an almost complete absence of any feelings for each other whatsoever, it comes across as flat, half-hearted and disingenuous. Rather like the film itself.

Despite all of this, it is good to see some of Hammer’s historical adventures getting a release on DVD with this film being released at the same time as Gilling’s The Scarlet Blade. Although it held a deserved reputation for producing distinctive and memorable horror films for well over three decades, it was its adventures, mysteries and comedies that saw the studio grow from its inception in the 1930s.

Unfortunately, The Brigand Of Kandahar isn’t the sort of film that can compare with the best of the studio’s output. As an example of Hammer’s alternate fare, it is unlikely to persuade anybody other than genuine devotees that the studio’s talents were best employed on anything other than horror.

You can rent or buy The Brigand Of Kandahar at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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Kevin Smith returns for his fourth live Q&A release, celebrating his 40th birthday in front of a hometown crowd. Running at more than three hours, it’s a treat for any fan of Smith and his work; if you’re not a fan, you’ll probably not appreciate any of this review or the DVD. If you’re new to Smith’s work, you’re better off picking up the films, then download his SMODcasts or Jay & Silent Bob Get Old, and start buying his books - preferably starting with Silent Bob Speaks. Then work your way through the live DVDs that he’s released so far.

For the rest of you, here goes...

Too Fat For Forty takes its name from the infamous incident in which Smith was declared too fat to fly aboard an American airline. This humiliating tale forms one of a number of lengthy stories that Smith recounts. These include stories about his recent films, Zack & Miri (and how it appears to have led to his increased use of marijuana) and Cop Out (and the various problems with realising that screen dream), the art of directing Bruce Willis, hockey legend Wayne Gretzky and his sportsmanship, travelling in a variety of buses, the influence of George Carlin, the dangers of going to the toilet, inadvertently finding himself in a hostage situation, and being subject to the Geneva Convention as he crosses the border into Canada.

The stories are filled with brutal honesty, humour and vulgarity. There seems to be no subject that is taboo, no matter how embarrassing the story. Smith’s stories are told from the heart and don’t appear to have been included to simply shock the audience into a response. His stories are a journey, as we navigate the seemingly random, but also entertaining, roads that Smith has travelled, in a literal and figurative sense.

Many of the stories, as has been true of his past live Q&As, have been heard before on his SMODcasts or Jay & Silent Bob Grow Old. This isn’t a bad thing, as Smith is a wonderfully engaging presence on stage, especially considering the length of the show. With Smith, the recounting of such stories is part of his often lengthy narrative, weaving funny, emotional and occasionally stomach turning tales of his life. He often links stories together and, sometimes, you have to work to keep up with his references.

With it’s three-hour plus running time, it’s a huge sell if you’re not a fan of Kevin Smith, but it’s definitely worth having if you appreciate his work.

Presented in stereo sound, the video won’t win any awards for its technical presentation, accomplished as this may be. Whilst it’s great to see the look on Smith’s face as he tells his stories (it’s akin to watching an excited, somewhat naughty schoolboy who has learned his first rude joke - and it’s a joy to watch), it’s not really essential and would work equally well as an audio-only work.

Extras

Assuming more than three hours of Kevin Smith isn’t enough to sell this DVD to you, there’s also a second disc included in the package.

Full Encore Q&A is a 50-minute extension to the main feature, with audience members asking the questions. The topics are quite bizarre - Toxic Avenger vs. Jay & Silent Bob, Wall-E, Rev Kev and a rather touching segment on Crohn’s disease. It’s not so much an extra as the ‘rest of the main feature.’ The audience members range from the incredibly nervous to the resoundingly confident, though the starstruck are often brought crashing back down to Earth by Smith’s honesty.

The Secret Behind The Stash is a short (under ten minute) making-of feature showing the technical side of filming a live Q&A. For such a short run time, it does a really efficient job of showing what went into the multi-camera set up and the venue itself.

It would have been quite a task to fit all this on one DVD, so spreading it over two seems the natural solution. That said, there was still room for more; maybe a live Jay & Silent Bob Get Old filming could appear on a future Q&A DVD, after all, Smith clearly has more stories to tell.

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You can rent or buy Too Fat For Forty at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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Set in Prohibition era Atlantic City, Boardwalk Empire begins in 1920. It focuses on four key storylines – Enoch “Nucky” Thompson and his thirst for power, Agent Van Alden and his quest to bring down Thompson and his associates, Jimmy Darmody's involvement with the Mafia, and Margaret Schroeder's attraction to Thompson following the death of her husband and the turmoil that she experiences.

Thompson, on the surface, supports Prohibition, though he plans to keep Atlantic City as “wet as a mermaid”, with a suitable increase in the cost of alcohol and the influx of bootleg booze that he intends to oversee. As the city comes to terms with the new state of Prohibition, he works with smugglers and gangsters to ensure that Atlantic City is a pleasant place to live – at least, for him.

Thompson's right hand man, Jimmy Darmody, has recently returned from active duty and has his own crosses to bear. His rise to power is in stark contrast to his life as a loving family man, with a wife and small child. It also sets him on a course of destruction with Thompson, especially when he discovers Thompson's involvement in his family’s affairs, and starts believing his wife may not have been as loving as he was. Implicated by a dying witness, he is forced to leave Atlantic City, abandoning his family and moving to Chicago, where he quickly becomes friendly with the local mob community thanks to his acquaintance, Al Capone.

The series takes place before the rise to power of such names as Al Capone and Lucky Luciano, so if your experience of gangsters comes from films like Bugsy or Casino, seeing historical figures portrayed before they became infamous names may initially seem a little unusual.

On the subject of preconceptions, the series isn't filled with shoot-outs and raids in every episode – instead, what we get is a finely woven story that is more about politics, business and the lives of the characters than the stereotypes of the genre. Seeing the story told in this way brought to mind the way that The West Wing shaped views of American politics, or Mad Men did the same for 1950s business, while still introducing characters that you can care about.

Comparing Boardwalk Empire to these two series is a deserved high compliment. If you thought The West Wing packed a lot of story into each episode, you're going to be bowled over by the way each episode of Boardwalk Empire develops its characters and the world of 1920 Atlantic City, while the story spreads out across 12 well-written and compelling episodes.

The characters aren’t one-dimensional, but richly developed and wonderfully realised. It would have been easy to write a character like Al Capone as a flat stereotype, bearing in mind what we expect of the character, but here, he's a family man, with a child suffering a disability, aware of his position and suffering, it seems, from little-man syndrome. All the main players, then, are well defined, with political and social points of view, even if their actions may be at odds with their intentions. Among the drama and intrigue, there's an undercurrent of humour that runs throughout the series.

Steve Buscemi owns the series as Enoch Thompson, the corrupt treasurer of Atlantic County, while Michael Pitt is on slow burn as Jimmy Darmody. Together, they are a formidable team, supported by a stellar cast including such familiar names as Gretchen Mol and Michael Shannon. Kelly MacDonald, in particular, is such a captivating actor, portraying Margaret as strong and forthright, yet conveying such emotion and sensibility that you can't help but feel for her character’s plight.

The interaction between Lucy (Paz de la Huerta), and Margaret is full of barely concealed hatred, and both actresses are fantastic in their respective roles. Stephen Graham is perfect as Al Capone, with a convincing Italian-American accent and the viciousness that you would expect from an actor of his ilk. From the regular characters right through to minor, recurring faces, you get the feeling that every actor is invested in their role.

Every episode is shot with the same intricacy and attention to detail that you would expect in a feature film. With Scorsese's direction in the first episode, the bar was set incredibly high for the rest of the season, and every director stepped up. The set design looks authentic and larger than you might expect from a television production, as do the costumes, hinting at the care and attention that has been taken to the look and feel of the series.

With series creator Terence Winter previously having written for The Sopranos, and executive producers in the form of Mark Wahlberg (who was previously executive producer on Entourage) and Scorsese on board, the series is in exceptionally qualified hands.

Extras

The series’ Blu-ray release really shows off its amazing set design and cinematographic presentation. The bitrate stays comfortably above 20Mbps, while the soundtrack, available in DTS-HD 5.1 drops us in the middle of an immersive experience as we move from small houses to large ballrooms, business meetings to shoot-outs.

Alongside audio commentaries, each episode has an enhanced viewing option, which acts as a making-of with behind the scenes footage and interviews with cast and crew. Together, these form a compelling behind the scenes experience; more so than the standalone features on disc.

There's also a comprehensive character dossier, which is a great way of keeping up with the complicated relationships between characters, especially those that are on the periphery.

Speakeasy Tour takes us on a 24-minute tour of Chicago and New York during the Prohibition. Revisiting locations and exploring some of the history of Torrio and Capone's control of the cities and the lives they were leaving behind, the feature is interesting from a historical point of view, with many of the locations from the 20s still in existence.

The current owners tell interesting and detailed stories of the locale's involvement, while building a more personalised story of the era, interspersed with some footage and photos from the period and tales about the lengths the owners would go to in order to ensure their businesses functioned, despite constant threats of raids.

Atlantic City: The Original Sin City is a half-hour documentary looking at the real location. Alongside the tour, it's a historical exploration that provides a backdrop for the series. Experts, many of whom live or lived in Atlantic City, take us through the development of the area by settlers, and the involvement of African Americans in the success of Atlantic City as a hub for tourism.

The Boardwalk and the influential players of Atlantic City dominate the feature, exploring the various developments that led to its construction, the way that it attracted its audience through showmanship (from displaying premature babies in incubators to the steel pier entertainment complex) and the clientèle that it brought to the city. Enoch Johnson, the character upon which Thompson is based, is featured, along with his celebrity and influence within and beyond the city limits.

While the extras on its history are richly produced and informative, the standalone features on the series itself seem to come up a bit short. It doesn't stop them being interesting, however. Running at 20 minutes, Making Of Boardwalk Empire is a behind the scenes feature that is more of an electronic press kit for the series, setting the scene for season one and the characters, the impact of Prohibition on Atlantic City and offering a few insights into the series from its key cast and crew, including Scorsese.

Creating The Boardwalk is a five-minute look at the creation of the Atlantic City Boardwalk and the work that went into recreating the landmark. This isn't just a redressed location – it's an amazingly recreated set that, mostly, is functional. It's only 300 feet, but with digital and visual effects it looks eight miles long. After watching this, you'll be even more impressed with the look of the series and hoping that, in season two, there will be more on the production.

With a fantastic series supported by some equally impressive extras, Boardwalk Empire is a Blu-ray release that is definitely worth owning. With any luck, it'll have a long run, and we'll see more of the quality content that the season one boxset offers.

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You can rent or buy Boardwalk Empire Season One at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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Dylan Moran’s new stand-up DVD may not break new ground, but his imagery is so absorbing, and his offhand delivery so likeable that most of the clichés are easily forgiven.

The differences between men and women, the problems of ageing, and the class divide are all well-trod comic fodder, but Moran’s turn of phrase spins them on their axis, giving enjoyable glimpses into an outrageous visual imagination.

Moran’s shows have long cultivated the sense of being in a pub listening to a perspicacious punter hold court (though this one’s more of a tea-room gig judging by the slice of chocolate cake he polishes off during the performance). For his fifth original live DVD, he’s cleaned up somewhat; swapped the wine-swilling for cake-eating, trimmed the Bernard Black mop, and extinguished the fag. The greatcoat too seems to have gone to the charity shop, all of which suits this set’s middle-aged marriage material.

Moran’s shtick has always been surrealism-tinged observation delivered with a deceptive languor. Imagine mid-90s Eddie Izzard on a truckload of Vicodin, or conversely, a slightly peppier Stewart Lee without the multi-layered irony and you’re almost there.

Yeah Yeah sticks to the formula, combining misanthropy with Romantic wistfulness and self-deprecation. The material might not have much edge, but it does have a ton of charm and wit.

Moran’s routine appears to spiral randomly inwards and outwards, moving from one casually tossed-away observation to another. He unpredictably revisits old ground seemingly as and when he remembers the material. It’s either shambolic or quite brilliant, and either way, it makes for an enjoyable, if not tightly wound set.

It’s the ground some of his material covers which, if anything, takes the shine off Moran’s low-key performance. It seems a little late in the day for more ‘men and women view relationships differently’ stuff, or any more observations about the difference between the English and the Scots, Irish and Welsh for that matter.

So while diverting, Moran’s subject matter is faintly disappointing for a comedian with his lyrical skill. He’s capable of taking his audience on deliciously bitter flights of fancy, swooping down over brilliantly weird images and fantastically imaginative creations. When these flights come to land on a tired bit about women being bitchy, or middle-age spread, you can’t help but feel cheated.

A section that won’t disappoint some readers of (and a fair few writers on) this very site is one dedicated the “unimprovably stupid films” of Jason Statham. Moran lauds Statham as the star to whom men like him can hitch their wagon and outsource their masculinity. It’s in these wry personal anecdotes, rather than its broad sweeps about nation or gender, that Yeah Yeah is at its best.

You certainly won’t buy Yeah Yeah for the extras. There are just the two: an MP3 of the set and a slideshow of the Shrigley-esque doodles Moran projects behind him while he performs. No matter though, as what the DVD does provide is a fun, relaxing evening’s entertainment with flashes of brilliant absurdity.

Dylan Moran’s a charismatic performer, but an even better writer. His skill with language makes you want to pocket his expressions and bring them out at parties as proof of your own sparkling wit. Yeah Yeah is further proof that, in a market saturated with comedian-penned memoirs and novels, his would be one worth reading.

Yeah Yeah may be situated at a comfortable distance from the so-called edge, but that’s where it was no doubt intended to sit. Fans will find much to enjoy and newcomers will be charmed. Now let’s have that book please Mr Moran, we’re waiting.

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You can rent or buy Dylan Moran Yeah Yeah Live In London at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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It’s not been a bad year for Tim Minchin. He’s completed an orchestra arena tour, filled the Royal Albert Hall twice, hosted the world’s first comedy prom, co-written a universally-praised musical, and made a treacle tart on a cookery chat show.

While I can’t speak to the quality of the treacle tart, I can tell you the Tim Minchin And The Heritage Orchestra Live At The Albert Hall DVD is a satisfying and indulgent treat. Indulgent because it comes in at well over two hours, and satisfying because Tim Minchin isn’t just a dab hand at noodling away on the piano, but also an enviably talented songwriter, singer and comic dissector of bullshit.

This time around, the bullshit dissection tackles fame and success, the power of prayer, the danger of taking comments out of context, and the leader of the Catholic Church.

Filmed over two nights at the Royal Albert Hall this April, the show is split sixty/forty between new and old material, with Minchin’s familiar songs jzushed up by the addition of a 55-piece orchestra. 
In the rock world, the massive orchestra has become a kind of shorthand for Spinal Tap-style stage excess. It’s the sort of thing bands do when they’ve rolled up their last shred of perspective to do another line of ego. All of this makes it a fittingly ironic accessory for a performer like Minchin, much of whose past work pivots on his rock star aspirations.

It’d be easy to give Minchin stick for the extravagance did he not know precisely what he was up to. His first number addresses all the clichés of hiring a big-ass orchestra, parodies the excesses of modern pop and opens with the line “Nothing ruins comedy like arenas”. Anyone interpreting the show as shark-jumping after seeing that stall set out needs to turn off the DVD and get back to blowing their fuse about jokes they don’t understand on Twitter.

The orchestra comfortably fills the empty space problem faced by comedians on arena tours, and moreover, Minchin’s a good enough musician for parts of it to work solely as a musical performance. Two of the songs on the set list, the new Beauty, and the familiar White Wine In The Sun are light on comedy but stand up as straight compositions. As ever, most of the best stuff happens while Minchin’s buttocks are plonked firmly on the piano stool. While big Eminem-infused opening anthem I’m In A Cage avoids the iffy mumbling and miming openings of his last couple of DVDs, the monologues aren’t all as successful as the songs, but that matters little when the lyrics and music are this good.

Those who consider excessive swearing proof of limited vocabulary can’t have encountered Tim Minchin and his gloriously obscene Pope Song. That this DVD has archived the rare sound of 3,000 voices gleefully filling the Royal Albert Hall with the kind of language that’d make dockers blush is something of a joy. You’d want to clear the living room of any hard line Catholic relatives before sticking it on for a Boxing Day viewing, mind.

Thank You God, Cont, and Lullaby stand out as the new numbers which should find a place in later shows. The first, an uproariously bouncy number that should win an award for successfully scanning the words “omnipotent ophthalmologist”, the second a two-parter on why context is crucial, and the third a refreshingly honest anthem for new parents who long for some shut-eye.

Another new number, Cheese, swings on one gag, and while absurdly funny the first time around, you’ll be safe to dash out for a loo break on repeat viewings. The Fence rallies a great melody, and a central idea Minchin fans will be keen to jump on board with (nothing’s solely black and white), but is light on belly laughs. A few old favourites make a welcome appearance, though I won’t spoil which ones tip up for people who didn’t catch the live shows.

Alongside shots of the venue and musicians, the cameras treat us to plenty of close-ups of Tim’s eyelinered mush, necessary for the facial commentary which accompanies his irony-laden compositions.
In terms of extras, there are a couple of short behind-the-scenes rehearsal docs in which we meet members of the Heritage Orchestra, but the animated short Storm is the jewel. Fans of Minchin will be familiar with the sceptic beat poem from his Ready For This? Tour, but this DC Turner-animated version is a beauty, as well as proof that were rationalist atheists to vote in a poet laureate, Minchin would be our man.

Some of the thrill of Tim Minchin comes from the gap between an old-fashioned aesthetic – man, piano, and in this case, massive orchestra – with biting modern satire. His look might say conventional Flanders and Swann or Noel Coward (dragged through a bush and the make-up aisle of Boots perhaps), but the lyrics are sharp, smart and cut to the quick of modern hypocrisies and inconsistencies.

Good value for money, and offering a new spin even on old favourites, Tim Minchin And The Heritage Orchestra Live At The Albert Hall is a showcase of brains and talent. “Clever never made no one rich”, Minchin sings on show closer, Dark Side. Well, on the basis of these performances, it may do yet.

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You can rent or buy Tim Minchin And The Heritage Orchestra Live At The Albert Hall at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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With the recent Blu-ray release of Apocalypse Now, beautifully restored and with more extras than you could ever want, it only made sense to release some of Francis Ford Coppola’s lesser-known films on the same format. The Outsiders is Coppola’s take on SE Hinton’s 1967 novel, and despite not garnering the universal praise his more famous films did, it still remains one of his best.

There is a certain school of thought amongst some film fans that Coppola has not made a good film since Apocalypse Now, but The Outsiders, and its companion film, Rumble Fish (both made back to back and released in 1983, four years after Apocalypse Now), are two films that prove that this is nonsense. It’s surprising that The Outsiders isn’t better known, given that it’s credited as the film that brought together the Brat Pack, and provided the inspiration for several songs (Stay Gold, Ponyboy, by The Get Up Kids, being the best one).

The story of how The Outsiders came about is very sweet: Coppola received a letter from a teacher and her class explaining that it was their favourite book, and they would like to see it made into a film. Coppola was so touched that he read the book and created the film.

The Outsiders is a poetic coming of age tale, set in Tulsa, Oklahoma in the 1960s. It's an America with Cadillacs, leather jackets and switchblade knives – the kind of place we’ve heard about in songs by people like Tom Waits, Bruce Springsteen or The Gaslight Anthem. It follows the conflict between the poor kids, the Greasers, and the rich kids, the Socs.

We experience the world from the perspective of the Greasers, with the main protagonist being Ponyboy Curtis (C Thomas Howell). After an incident where Ponyboy witnesses his best friend, Johnny (Ralph Macchio) killing one of the Socs in self-defence, the two boys go into hiding, helped by one of the older Greasers, Dallas (Matt Dillon).

The cast is full of recognisable faces – and you’ll see youthful versions of Emilio Estevez, Rob Lowe, Tom Cruise, Patrick Swayze, and even Tom Waits in a brief cameo. The whole cast do a marvellous job, fleshing out the characters from the novel into real breathing people. A lot of the young cast went on to become stars, with Ralph Macchio doing so immediately after this film in The Karate Kid.

The cinematography in the film is gorgeous. This can be credited to shooting the film in cinemascope. The striking sunsets and shallow focus make it look like a film from the Hollywood studio era rather than one that came out in 1983, and the authenticity of the costumes, along with the lyrical dialogue, only add to this. There’s one scene where the Greasers and Socs are having a “rumble” (a fight) and with the lashing rain coming down, it looks like an homage to Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai.

Meanwhile, it’s pretty clear that Coppola was concerned with giving the film a realist style, using the true locations where the novel had been set, as well as minimal lighting in exterior shots. This stunning contrast is what makes the film so stunning, and it is as beautiful as any of Coppola’s other films.

For the most part, the film makes the jump to Blu-ray unscathed, with the film still looking as stunning as ever. However, there are two versions of the film: the theatrical version and the 2005 “complete novel” version, which has 22 minutes of additional footage, making it more faithful to the novel than the original film. While the additional material does add to the film for the most part, there are a few issues with the image, and in some scenes it looks very ropey.

The rock and roll soundtrack, made up of songs from the era, and replaces the original score, fits in better, however, but it’s a little too high up in the mix; there are times when it’s really difficult to hear the dialogue, and I found that I frequently had to turn the volume down during the scenes where there was music playing.

These are minor issues, however, and while it would be good to have the option of both the theatrical and complete novel (which wasn’t available here in the UK anyway) versions of the film, this is still as definitive a version of the film as we’re likely to get. With any luck, we’ll get our hands on an equally generous Blu-ray version of the companion film, Rumble Fish, some time soon.

Disc

The extras come from those on the complete novel edition of the film, and are available here for the first time in the UK. There’s a very thorough and informative introduction and commentary from Coppola, as well as a separate commentary track from the cast. There’s a featurette, Staying Gold, A Look Back At The Outsiders, which is a making-of and also a retrospective, with the cast giving their anecdotes and insights about their time on the set of The Outsiders.

There are the usual deleted scenes, of poor quality due to their age, as is the NBC News Today feature which has the teacher and pupils who wrote to Coppola asking to create the film, but they’re still very watchable despite this. There is also a brief casting documentary and one with SE Hinton discussing the locations. The Blu-ray set comes with exclusive postcards and a booklet which discusses the story behind the film.

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You can rent or buy The Outsiders at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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Once upon a time, a young actor by the name of Ryan Reynolds was approached to star in two comic book adaptations. The first was a continuation of the already successful X-Men series, and the second was bringing an old DC favourite back into the limelight. After signing on for both, the latter was quickly pushed into production to block the first. Was this risk one that really paid off for Reynolds?

One of the lesser known heroes of the DC universe, Green Lantern still holds an impressive fan base, which has been with him since his first appearance in 1940. And after being suck in development hell since 1997, he finally managed to break onto the big screen this summer. Straight up, I have say it really wasn’t worth the effort.

Based on the Silver Age comic books, the movie is basically a backstory about how Hal Jordan (Reynolds) becomes the Green Lantern, how he’s in love with his childhood friend, boss and flying partner Carol Ferris (Blake Lively), how he takes on the sinister Parallax (Clancy Brown) and his conduit on Earth, Hector Hammond (Peter Sarsgaard).

And that’s it. No real suspense, no real surprises, just a basic run-of-the-mill story that is stretched out over 114 minutes when 70 probably would have done.

Which leads me to my first major criticism of this movie: the story.

I get so annoyed when studios push out movies to make a quick buck over the summer months and neglect the basic backbone of the plot. You could put together the most fantastic cast with the most stunning visual effects (more on both of those in a moment), but if you don’t have an engaging and interesting story, you’re going to lose the majority of your audience within the first half hour, which is what happened with me. Flashing CGI across the screen and seeing Ryan Reynolds in little to no attire is not going to distract from the fact that nothing much is going on.

My next second major problem with this movie is the effects. Having had a look at the budget ($200 million if that sort of thing interests you), I really can’t see what they have spent in on, considering it looks like something from the 1990s. The CGI is so blatant that even the normal suspension of disbelief is shattered, and your subconscious is telling you, “Hey, even I can’t pretend this looks good or realistic”. Even 1995’s Casper has better CGI interaction, and that was among the first of its kind.

Finally, I have to mention the cast. Nobody is awful – in fact, I would go so far as to say that Reynolds rescues the movie from total disaster, as his Hal Jordan is funny, charming and ultimately the good guy we end up rooting for. What really irritates me, though, is the criminal underuse of the rest of the cast, with Sarsgaard, Tim Robbins and Angela Bassett barely getting any screen time, and some awful dialogue. This is the kind of cast that should sell a movie, not be side-lined by CGI with as much charisma as Jar-Jar Binks.

Overall, Green Lantern promises a lot, but delivers little. And if you are hoping for some Blu-ray gifts in Santa’s sack this year, pray he leaves this one stuck up the chimney.

Disc

There are four nice little features, including Green Lantern’s Light, which has lots of behind the scenes footage and great commentary from Green Lantern writer Geoff Johns. Focus Points is a look at the making of the movie, costume design and SFX work; The Universe According To Green Lantern is a discussion of the history of Green Lantern, and is a must for all comic book fans; and finally Ryan Reynolds Becomes The Green Lantern, which is a must for anybody of the female persuasion.

Also included are some deleted scenes, which were cut before any effects were added, a digital comic, which serves as a promo for the new Justice League comic book series, an extended cut (goodness only knows why you’d even want to watch this), and a preview of Green Lantern: The Animated Series. This is a rare example of a movie upstaged by its extras.

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You can rent or buy Green Lantern at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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Epic is a word that is often overused to describe films today. In an age when directors often use virtual crowds, green screens and CGI set extensions to increase their films’ scale, there is always something refreshing about watching the Hollywood epics of the 50s and 60s.

Back then, directors had to wrangle thousands of extras and, sometimes, literal armies. However, among the likes of The Ten Commandments, Cleopatra and Spartacus, there is one film that stands above them all in terms of pure epicness: Ben-Hur.

The numbers speak for themselves: over 8,000 extras, 300 locations, 110,000 costumes, 365 speaking parts, 213 miles of footage, an unprecedented $15 million budget and, decades before Titanic and Return Of The King got there, a triumphant 11 Oscars. It is no surprise that Warner Brothers have pulled out all the stops for the 1959 film’s Blu-ray debut.

For those of you unfamiliar with the story, the film is an adaptation of Lew Wallace’s bestseller, which was later made into a 1925 silent epic (also included on this Blu-ray release). It follows Judah Ben-Hur, a Jewish prince who is betrayed by his childhood friend Messala. Despite being close as boys, Messala is Roman and Judah a Jew – something that inevitably leads to clashes between the two in Judea, which is under Roman occupation. Banished to the Roman fleet to row for the rest of his days with other slaves, Judah begins an epic quest to return home and avenge himself against his former friend.

Along the way, he rescues the admiral of a Roman fleet (the wonderful Jack Hawkins), becomes a Roman citizen, meets Jesus and seeks to find his banished family. Of course, the final confrontation between the two occurs at the Circus Antioch in the infamous chariot race, which saw both Charlton Heston and Stephen Boyd do their own racing in a still-amazing-to-watch sequence.

Director William Wyler actually worked on the chariot sequence on the 1925 film (where a stuntman was tragically killed), and by accepting the challenge, received the largest sum ever paid to a director. The film took five years to plan and almost bankrupted MGM, but the gamble paid off, and before Titanic took cinema goers by storm in 1997, still held the record for the biggest first-run grosser.

With set pieces ranging from a large-scale sea battle between a Roman fleet and pirates all the way through to the crucifixion of Jesus, Ben-Hur is a film that can’t be accused of thinking small. Everything about the film is large, from the sets, to the cast, to Charlton Heston’s oiled-up pecs.

In fact, it’s hard to imagine anyone else in the role, especially considering Burt Lancaster was once considered. Heston embodies the part with that sense of drive, hatred and new-found humanity that he is famous for. Likewise, Stephen Boyd makes Messala much more than a sneering villain. His scenes with Judah at the beginning of the film are genuinely tender, and you feel the love and friendship that the two share.

Ultimately though, Messala chooses Rome over his friend, putting the two at loggerheads forever. While the film’s overly religious finale may draw some eye-rolling, it does not detract from a film that at its heart is all about friendship, survival, honour and revenge.

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As a fan of the film, I already own the four-disc Collector’s Edition on DVD, so I was curious about what the three-disc Blu-ray would offer. I shouldn’t have worried - the Blu-ray includes all the features on the DVD, including the excellent 2005 documentary Ben-Hur: The Epic That Changed Cinema, the 1994 documentary Ben-Hur: The Making Of An Epic, the 1925 silent version, the Charlton Heston commentary and all the storyboards and screen-tests.

The Blu-ray also includes the exclusive documentary Charlton Heston And Ben-Hur: A Personal Journey, an 80 minute look at Charlton’s career with input from his wife, son, daughters and includes footage from the actor’s home videos. However, the main reason to buy this set is the picture and sound quality, and Blu-ray review sites are already describing the Ben-Hur disc as the gold standard for all future releases.

Unlike other studios we could mention, Warner Brothers has taken extreme care in restoring the film. The studio has gone back to the original negative to make hi-res scans, and in order to provide the best picture possible, have spread the three hour epic over two discs. As such, the 1925 version and special features are all on one disc.

As a result, every colour is crisp, every locale looks breathtaking, and there are no scratches or fake, plastic skin tones in sight. The 1080p transfer positively shines and in the galley and bathhouse scenes, the shiny sweat dripping off the stars is blinding. However, it is the chariot race that steals all the plaudits, with the footage looking like it was filmed yesterday.

And the sound? Well, I hate to overuse the word, but it’s epic – the 7.1 surround sound roar of the crowd, the neighs of the horses, the crunches of the chariots – the entire package has to be seen and heard to be believed.  

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You can rent or buy Ben-Hur: Ultimate Collector’s Edition at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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Is there a film any more appropriate for our times than Horrible Bosses? As a comedy, the film is really a portrait of three men overwhelmingly disillusioned by how their lives have turned out, and the message arrives with the notion that it doesn’t matter how hard you’ve worked, in the end you’ll have to kill your boss to get ahead. The film is really an old style farce that works well with those fairly depressing themes, and the great cast constantly bring it back from the brink of unbelievability.

We start with the sentiment, “The key to success is taking shit”, spoken by Jason Bateman’s character Nick, setting the slightly defeatist tone of everything that follows. Nick’s boss (Kevin Spacey) is teasing him about a promotion he’s worked at for years, Kurt’s (Jason Sudeikis) beloved mentor (Donald Sutherland) has left his cokehead son (Colin Farrell) in charge of the company following his death, and Dale (Charlie Day) is enduring daily sexual harassment from Julia (Jennifer Aniston), the only woman who’ll employ him after he made the list of registered sex offenders.

It’s this last part that really sums up the guys’ predicament, as the audience is never allowed to forget the desperate times surrounding them. In danger of alienating a good portion of the cinema-going public with their good jobs and success stories, we’re made aware that, however qualified and talented these three friends are, if they quit their jobs they may end up just like Kenny (PJ Byrne), selling sexual favours in the bar they frequent just to get by.

Kurt isn’t really on the sex offender’s list for a good reason, anyway; that would make him pretty hard to love. Having urinated in an empty playground at night, he’d made the register by accident, but the fact that Horrible Bosses dares to include a running gag about paedophilia just shows how brave the film really is. Crude humour like the stuff surrounding the Dale/Julia story thread is nothing new for comedies such as this, but everything is taken up a notch to the uncomfortable zone, and you may leave the film with that same feeling.

But the film is about ordinary workers driven to murder by their employers, so it makes sense that things had to be pushed past the boundaries of ordinary behaviour. Their bosses really are terrible people and, by the time Nick, Kurt and Dale are discussing strategy in their usual bar, we believe in their justifications, and wonder if we’d do the same. It’s really a film about three men faced with losing everything they’ve worked for, and what they’d be prepared to do in order to hold on to it.

It’s the bosses who get to have the most fun, anyway, with Kevin Spacey apparently relishing the role of an evil corporate head and stealing every scene he‘s in. Colin Farrell takes on a different method, echoing Tom Cruise in Tropic Thunder and dressing down for the part. It’s also a very different role for Jennifer Aniston, who leaves all memory of Rachel behind with a seductive performance more fitting an adult film than light-hearted comedy.

The best part of the film is undoubtedly when the group is trying to figure out how to carry out their murderous plan. All involved are so incompetent that it provides some great comedic moments, and the funniest part of the movie. This is partly due to the great addition of Jamie Foxx’s Motherf****r Jones, the ‘hit-man’ the guys find in a seedy part of town. After this part of the movie, things start to unravel and the film loses some of its natural humour, and you start to wish you could go back to the fantasy element apparent earlier.

The camaraderie and charisma shared between the cast, especially Bateman, Sudeikis and Day, is what ultimately makes the film stand out and, in a genre where the search for a funny gag is often more important than character development, it’s rare for a cast to seem so real. Some of the film’s best scenes are those that simply feature the three leads talking or hanging out, their chemistry together instantly convincing us of their friendship.

Horrible Bosses can be an unpleasant watch, but these are unpleasant times, and the film reflects that in a comedy form very nicely. With a lesser cast, it may have gone the way of Seth Rogen’s Observe And Report but, as it turns out, the natural performances and farcical comedy keep it fun.

Disc

The extras are pretty standard to a comedy such as this, but there are some nice little insights into the making of the film in both How To Survive A Horrible Boss and Being Mean Is So Much Fun, focusing on either the main cast or the actors portraying the bosses.

As the strongest element of the film, it’s nice to hear the actors’ opinions on their characters and performances, and it’s fun to see big stars like Spacey and Farrell contemplating stepping out from their respective comfort zones.

These nuggets of interest are brief, however, and everything feels a little rushed. It seems like the conception of this idea might have been a very interesting process, but everything here is resolutely focused on how fun making the film turned out to be. My Least Favourite Career and The Making Of The Horrible Bosses Soundtrack are both pleasant watches as well, with the latter the most in-depth of the extras. All in all, this is a pretty standard collection for an above-average comedy.

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You can rent or buy Horrible Bosses at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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I have a number of festive treats that I in the lead up to Christmas, usually accompanied by some mulled wine. These include films such as Gremlins, Die Hard, Scrooged and The Muppet Christmas Carol, which I watch every year, and then there are titles such as Gremlins 2, Elf and Home Alone that I try to fit in there too. Still, I’m always on the lookout for films to add to my roster festive films, and when I heard of Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale last year, I was certainly intrigued.

Rare Exports was adapted from a 2003 short film called Rare Exports Inc, which followed three hunters tracking down a wild Santa Claus. The director of the short, Jalmari Helander, was allowed to develop the short into a feature film following the positive buzz it received.

Set in the Korvatunturi mountains in Lapland, which sit on the border of Finland and Russia, we follow the efforts of two teams on either side of the border. On the Russian side, we have a team excavating on behalf of a rich eccentric, searching for the largest burial mound in the world. On the Finnish side, we have a group of reindeer herders whose Christmas is disrupted when their herd is massacred and their children go missing.

The Finnish blame the massacre of the reindeer on those across the border, and show little concern for the missing children, but soon find that the true cause was Santa Claus; someone who punishes bad children rather than rewards the good, and certainly not the jolly chap depicted by the Coca-Cola company.

Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale does a lot right. It’s incredibly well paced, handles the relationships between the key cast well, and is well directed and shot. The main issue I had is that it is nowhere near dark or sinister enough, given its subject matter. The fairy tale depiction of Santa shown here falls some way short of the reputation set up in the earlier in the film, and Helander opts to focus more on the comedic elements of the premise. For the most part, this works, but when something sinister is hinted at for so long and fails to materialise in an effective way, it’s hard not to be disappointed.

Many of the great Christmas films contain elements that might be troubling to younger audiences; Gremlins contains the reveal that a certain rotund festive figure doesn’t exist and is quite sinister at times, Die Hard is spectacularly violent, and Home Alone has that creepy bearded chap with the big shovel. Rare Exports doesn’t let the side down, and in many ways, raises the bar, for it offers up old bearded chaps running around and stealing children. This will certainly take some beating.

I know it’s kind of unfair to compare the film to Gremlins, given that Joe Dante so masterfully blended the comedic and sinister, but it’s that skilful blending of elements that Rare Exports reaches for, but ultimately fails to deliver. Despite its flaws, the film is still highly entertaining and certainly worth checking out for those who fancy something a little different from their festive film viewing.

While it doesn’t reach the classic status of many of the films I watch in the run up to Christmas every year, it’s still something I can see myself watching on a regular basis as I look to get in the festive mood.

Disc

Sadly the release lacks any extra features, which is especially disappointing, considering the existence of the short the film it’s based on, and the opportunity to explore the fairy tale of this alternative take on Santa Claus. It’s even more of a shame when you consider that the US release is packed full of extras, including the aforementioned short film, as well as behind the scenes material, such as a making of documentary and the cult film Santa Claus Conquers The Martians. With the lack of extras on the UK release, it might make the prospect of purchasing the Blu-ray seem far from an essential purchase.

Fortunately, it delivers where it counts. The picture is outstanding from start to finish, with only minor faults appearing in some of the more effects heavy scenes. The landscapes are captured beautifully, and there’s a clarity and crispness to the picture that puts this well ahead of films that carry a similar budget, and even puts some blockbuster material to shame.

It really is one of the finest visual transfers of the year. The sound is also of an incredibly high standard, and only fares slightly less well than the visual aspect of the presentation. There’s a real sense of atmosphere, with sound echoing at times, and later on the effects really fill the room. It’s a shame this release is so light on extras – and sadly, the US release is region-locked, so unless you have a multi-region Blu-ray player this will be the only way of seeing the film in high-definition. It’s a solid film with a great audio and visual transfer that would more than justify the upgrade over DVD.

Film:
Disc:

You can rent or buy Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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Before I get into this movie, I feel duty-bound to set my perspective on the X-Men franchise, which has been ineptly managed, in my opinion. For the most part, I love the first two movies unreservedly, and they manage to deliver healthy slices of mutant mayhem without descending into overt silliness.

Where it all goes wrong for me is the third outing, The Last Stand, which entirely trashed some superb storylines, like the Dark Phoenix arc, and delivered some diabolical dialogue in a disorganised story that did little to progress the characters. I won't mention Wolverine, and what I thought of that, just in case I ever meet Hugh Jackman.

After seeing X-Men soar and then go down in flames, it was with some trepidation that I approached X-Men: First Class. The idea of a story about young X-Men isn’t a new one, as it’s been covered already in both the comics and even in animated adventures with X-Men Evolution – but that's to suggest that what was done with First Class was as derivative as what Sony appears to have planned for the Spider-Man re-launch.

It isn't, because X-Men: First Class shares something with the original movies: it's about the relationship between Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr, except in this adventure set in the early 60s, they've yet to take on their monikers of Professor X and Magneto.

With this friendship at the heart of events, it was critical that the audience likes these two, and the casting choices for both are immaculate. James McAvoy is the overly optimistic Charles, and Michael Fassbender is the traumatised and darkly driven Erik. They're both brilliant, even if Fassbender gets the choicest scenes and darkest moments to inhabit.

The story is essentially how Charles and Erik become friends, but share a disparate view of the future that's almost upon them, and how this eventually drives them apart. To support this odd love story, there's a finely crafted narrative that weaves the Cuban missile crisis and the emergence of mutant powers cleverly together. We get to meet various young X-men, characters that we've not previously encountered, and it's all been elegantly assembled by Kick-Ass director Matthew Vaughn, along with the producing skills of previous X-Men director Bryan Singer.

They manage to deliver a satisfying slice of superhero fun, nicely peppered with memorable performances and some stunning special effects. If it wasn't for the exceptionally good Thor, this would have easily been the best comic book movie of the year, and it kicks both Last Stand and Wolverine to the kerb.

If it does have a weakness, it is that it takes the period aspect of the movie and paints the prevailing sexual attitudes of the day onto the female characters like gold paint. They mostly appear for their visual appeal, and Rose Byrne's first scene as Moira MacTaggert involves her spontaneously undressing. Her character is badly served in general, as the romantic relationship she had with Charles is mostly consigned to the cutting room floor.

In the same vein, January Jones appears as Emma Frost, or is that Emma Peel? As much as I enjoy the physical splendour of both of these actresses, along with Jennifer Lawrence who plays Mystique, I soon began to wonder if they couldn't have been given more narrative impact and less revealing outfits.

That point aside, I was deeply impressed with First Class, which for the most part, put the X-Men back where they should be: a franchise with a story and characters that are worth following. I just hope they move rapidly on the next chapter, and can find more for James McAvoy to do in the next film other than stick two fingers on his temple.

Disc

In terms of the transfer to Blu-ray, there is very little complain about here, as it’s bright, sharp, and well saturated throughout. The big money-shot sequences, like the sub being pulled from the ocean, look marvellous, and while I'd have liked slightly more contrast in some scenes, that's a personal choice, and not a reflection of the skill with which this was converted to the medium.

The sound is on a par with the visuals, exploiting all that the lossless DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 surround track has to offer. If you're a detached home owner, you're going to want to bump up the volume and enjoy the roar of the X-Jet and the excellent Henry Jackman score. In addition to the DTS-HD track, there’s also an English descriptive audio in Dolby 5.1.

We've seen some woeful extras on summer movie discs recently, but this one is an exception, having some genuinely interesting supporting material that I enjoyed sitting through. The best of these is a 70-minute-long documentary, Children Of The Atom, a seven-part exploration of the X-Men, their history and how the film slots into the comic and movie lore that already exists. There are also some revealing deleted scenes, an isolated version of the score in Dolby Digital 5.1, an interactive mutant database and a pop-up viewing mode for the movie which provides extra information at key points about the production. They also linked this to BD-Live, and for once, there was some extra material already in place to explore.

Film:
Disc:

You can rent or buy X-Men: First Class at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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Three great performers and one remote cottage are the only ingredients debut writer director Carl Tibbetts needed to create Retreat, and to his credit, he blended them well.

Adding a pinch of sumptuous cinematography and a dash of nifty direction, he has managed to pull off a raw, powerful and deeply involving character study as well as a finely tuned outbreak saga.
Martin (Cillian Murphy) and Kate (Thandie Newton) decide to pack their bags and head off to an isolated resort to escape a personal tragedy which is jeopardising their already unstable marriage. Not long after they arrive, the pair spot a blood-soaked man stumbling to shore and collapsing into a lifeless heap.

The man is Jack (Jamie Bell), an army officer who has escaped from Europe and tells the couple about a devastating virus which is making its way to British shores. The virus is airborne, extremely contagious and all accounts recorded have led to fatalities. The trio must work together to stay safe from infection, but being alone, trapped and confused soon takes its toll, leaving only hysteria and chaos.

Like most debut screenplays, Retreat does suffer from the odd plot snag and could have done with a little tweaking, but these are minor quibbles for a film that is greatly ambitious and proves that budget is often the least important part of filmmaking. This picture is fundamentally a performer’s piece; its claustrophobic setting and narrative allows the small group of actors to ignite the screen, presenting a cavalcade of emotions and heft, and this is the film’s greatest success.

The virus plot provides some expected and unexpected twists which keep viewers on their toes, but it’s the meaty and engrossing dynamic between a distressed couple and a stranger, who is able to alienate them just with his presence, that keeps the film engaging. Throughout, we see shifts in their behaviour, and it is apparent that both Martin and Kate connect with Jack in a different way, whether it be emotional or physical.

Jack’s demanding presence in Fairweather Cottage makes him undeniable yet supremely questionable. Is he really an army soldier? Is the virus he preaches about a reality? Is he truly concerned for everyone’s safety or is he merely manipulating an already tense and taut situation? These questions reoccur frequently, and Bell paints a rich and layered character in a gripping performance.

Not only does Bell dominate the couple and their solitary space, he demands and owns the screen in every moment the camera graces his presence. Murphy is also great; he looks like he is getting on and unaware of the relationship barriers Kate is tossing in front of him, but he is constantly stumbling through them and dusting himself off after every fall - it’s truly a skill to tell so much from a stony face. His dialogue delivery is strong, too, and his action-hero moments are believable.

Newton is sublime as the broken and frustrated Kate, who offers audiences mixed signals through her devouring sorrow. At some points, her male co-stars overshadow her, but this is only for brief segments. In fact, during Retreat’s third act, Newton is brutal and powerful with her presence as she discovers the truth.

The film’s closing 15 minutes are some of the most haunting and distressing I’ve experienced this year. They are not particularly violent, but they reflect perfectly the shattered atmosphere that has been surrounding the trio from the start. Expect fireworks – really sad and broken fireworks.

At 86 minutes, Retreat is a fast-paced, white-knuckle experience trapped within four walls and a thatched roof - it grasps audiences in a chokehold and refuses to let go.

Disc

The DVD offers limited extras, but this being a low-budget affair, an abundance of special features isn’t particularly required.
The disc sports a theatrical trailer which is the kiss-of-death and should not be watched until after you’ve viewed the main feature – it pretty much reveals 75 per cent of the film, and viewing it will seriously taint the experience. It also has a photo gallery which is fairly irrelevant and seems to last forever.

The best feature is its Making of documentary, with interviews with Tibbetts, Newton, Murphy and Bell. It’s a rather insightful little feature which lasts just over 15 minutes, and the only extra really worth bothering with. Tibbetts explains how he was greatly influenced by the films of Roman Polanski, and that is clearly evident in Retreat. Elsewhere, Bell says he was attracted to the stage-like style of the film.

The extras may be weak, but the feature is more than strong enough to warrant a purchase. I highly recommend it.

Film:
Disc:

You can rent or buy Retreat at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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“Everything has its time and everything dies.”

If ever a line of dialogue encapsulated the ethos of an entire era, those words, from the episode The End Of The World, probably sum up most succinctly what Russell T Davies’ Doctor Who was all about. An almost five-year long meditation on grief, loss and loneliness masquerading as a frothy, Saturday night slice of escapism, Davies’ Who stands as one of the finest examples of populist storytelling during the last decade. 

And then there was Torchwood.

Until its third series, when the show was reformatted as a five-part, self-contained BBC One serial, it would be fair to say that the ‘adult’ Who spin-off – fronted by John Barrowman as Captain Jack Harkness and Eve Myles as Gwen Cooper – had been something of a mixed bag. 

However, the brilliantly executed Torchwood: Children Of Earth changed all that. Clearly designed as an ending (of sorts) for the show, the serial’s intense, Nigel Kneale-style chills enthralled viewers, delivering both stellar ratings and the series’ first real wave of critical praise. It seemed that, finally, Torchwood had stepped out of the shadow of its parent show. With both Davies and fellow exec producer Julie Gardner moving to the USA to take up positions with BBC Worldwide Productions, it wasn’t long before a fourth run of the series was commissioned.

However, this time, while there would be a significant uptick in the show’s budget, there would also be a US premium cable channel as a co-production partner, and a shift in location from Britain to America. The fruit of this co-production deal is Torchwood: Miracle Day, which, while delivering a more lavish production than previous incarnations of the show, doesn’t manage to maintain the quality of Children Of Earth.

Which isn’t to say that Miracle Day is without merit, far from it, but it does feel like many of the lessons learned during Children Of Earth haven’t quite made the journey across the Atlantic intact. Seemingly conceived as something approaching both a franchise reboot and a continuation, Miracle Day follows the intriguing central idea of what happens to human society when everyone on Earth mysteriously stops dying. 

However, intriguing ideas don’t necessarily make for engaging drama, and one of the main issues Miracle Day faces right from the start is that the Torchwood team is ‘fighting’ something (the absence of death) that is essentially intangible.

That being the case, how do you then make this seemingly amorphous idea both present and threatening?

In all honesty, I’m not sure whether Davies and his team ever come up with an effective answer to this and, as a result, the first few episodes are full of scenes bombarding us with facts about how dangerous this ‘miracle’ is for the world.

Repeatedly, we’re informed that people aren’t dying, intensive care units are overflowing, the world faces imminent resource collapse inside four months… and yet none of it makes the slightest impression. However, what does make an impression is the sight of a virtually barbecued  ‘corpse’ that’s somehow still alive, a CIA agent surviving impalement on a metal pole, and a convicted paedophile surviving lethal injection.

Unfortunately, all three of those images appear in the first episode, and there’s very little in the following nine hours that comes close to achieving a similar, visceral impact. Another problem, especially in the first half of the series, is that by relocating the show to America, Davies is forced to spend an inordinate amount of time having to re-establish the basis of Torchwood, both as a concept and a group of characters.

As a result, the first episode is split in a number of different directions and never really comes together in a particularly satisfying manner. Certainly there are some effective set pieces and striking moments in the episode, but it almost feels like the checklist of story and series requirements has robbed Davies’ writing of its usual rhythm and clarity.

He’s certainly not helped by the distinctively different tone and execution of the material shot in Wales as opposed to that shot by the American crews. This is at its most apparent during the first episode, where the ratio of Welsh and US scenes is roughly 50-50. 

The scenes in Wales, shot by a production team who’ve worked on the show since the start, feel like they belong in Torchwood. In contrast, the American-shot material has a look and feel that is both broader and more generic. This lessens as the season progresses, but it’s noticeable in certain scenes and even draws comment from both Davies and Gardner in the accompanying DVD commentary.

Despite the issues that recur during the first half of the series, there are definite high points. Myles (alongside Kai Owen as husband Rhys) is on top form throughout, while Barrowman, although somewhat more peripheral in the first few episodes, delivers some of his finest material as the show finds its feet in the second half of the season.

Of the American cast, both Mekhi Phifer as CIA agent Rex Matheson, Arlene Tur as Dr Vera Jurez and Alexa Havins as CIA analyst Esther Drummond give strong performances, which manage to be both distinctive and complementary to those given by Barrowman and Myles. Faring slightly less well, though still offering strong support, are Bill Pullman and Lauren Ambrose as the oddly matched pairing of paedophile Oswald Danes and PR girl Jilly Kitzinger.

While these two characters never fully deliver on the promise of their early appearances, Pullman and Ambrose are never less than fully committed in their performances and always deliver something more interesting than you’d expect.

However, despite the fun of their performances, it’s actually when Oswald and Jilly are sidelined during episodes seven and eight that the story and the show itself really starts to shift into focus.

Episode seven in particular, which is set in both the 1920s and 2011, contains John Barrowman and Eve Myles’ finest performances in the show. Both a touching love story and a savage indictment of both Jack and Gwen, it’s arguably as strong an episode as Torchwood has ever delivered. Ironically, it’s also the one episode in the series that overtly embraces the show’s connection to Doctor Who and that broader universe, a connection that at times it seems almost embarrassed to admit.

Although episode eight is something of a ‘bottle show’, it still manages to introduce both John De Lancie’s enjoyably rude CIA chief and move most of the story pieces into place as the show hurtles towards its finale.

And it’s in those final two episodes that the series finally manages to find some sort of balance in this new transatlantic context. Unlike the choppiness of episode one, in these last episodes the cutting between story strands set in Wales, Latin America and Shanghai is seamless, with the tone, performances and look of the show blending together perfectly.

As for where the story goes in these final two hours, there have been many complaints about both the cause of the miracle and its solution and, while it may infuriate some, I found it to be an effective and honest conclusion to the story.

Certainly the ultimate end of the series, which ends on one of Davies’ patented "What? What?!? What?!?" notes, is both cheeky and just a touch silly, but it leaves room for future adventures featuring the Torchwood team.

As I said at the start of this review: "Everything has its time and everything dies." However, in the weird and wonderful world of Russell T Davies, the one caveat to that statement appears to be Torchwood.

Because of that, don’t bet against the show making one more comeback somewhere down the line.

Disc

The DVD extras for Miracle Day are of variable quality. Torchwood: Web Of Lies is the complete ‘motion comic’ which was released online in the US as a companion to the show. It’s perhaps most notable for featuring former Buffy actress Eliza Dushku as the main voice artist.

In addition, there are brief character intros for new viewers, one-minute introductions for each episode by Davies and Barrowman and a seven-minute selection of deleted scenes.

Of more interest is a 30-minute Making of… documentary which is entertaining, but fairly unrevealing as it mainly focuses on the Welsh shoot that occurred early in the production schedule. Similarly, the special effects featurette takes an all too brief look behind the scenes of how certain key sequences were executed.

Despite the somewhat lackluster quality of the other extras, the commentary tracks attached to both the first and final episodes of the series are another matter entirely. Featuring both Davies and Gardner, the two tracks find the normally upbeat production duo in a far more critical and reflective mood than we’re used to. 

Hinting at numerous production problems along the way, Davies and Gardner prod and poke at aspects of the finished episodes that they aren’t too keen on, while openly questioning their own decisions and those of the execs above them. Essential listening.

Episodes:
Disc:

You can rent or buy Torchwood: Miracle Day at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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My main bugbear with modern horror is the inane misanthropy on show, particularly in franchise mainstays such as Saw and Final Destination. These are often films in which the audience is confronted with archetypal stock characters, and spend the running time waiting for them to be killed off in some acceptable succession.

And so, perhaps the most interesting thing about The Woman, which is adapted by Jack Ketchum and director Lucky McKee from the former's own novel, is how it is much more calculated in its misanthropy. The audience is instead confronted with some deeply disturbing stuff, primarily based around the banality of evil in small-town Massachusetts.

The first character we meet is the woman of the title, a solitary, wild character who we see roaming the American wilderness. She's discovered by a lawyer, Chris Cleek, while he's out on a hunting trip. Cleek lives nearby with his long-suffering wife and daughters, and his twisted son.

Coming across the woman in the woods, Cleek abducts her and drags her back to his ranch. He trusses her up in his barn, and begins to try and civilise her. But Cleek himself is a savage man, his deep hatred and disrespect for women hidden under a façade of civility. But the woman in the barn won't bend to his will, and eventually, something's got to give.

The film is a sequel to 2009's Offspring, also adapted from Ketchum's book, but given how I hadn't even heard of that film until after watching The Woman, I don't think you need to be too concerned about following any existing continuity. You're more likely to be perturbed by the story, as it appears here, in and of itself.

It's basically about the collision between a loathsome bastard and a force of nature. Chris Cleek, bravely played by Sean Bridgers, treats the women in his life as if he's dragging up dogs. That's a comparison that becomes shockingly apt in the film's audacious climax, more on which later, but Chris is so awful a human being, behind his self-righteousness, that you can't look away.

However, he's not the scariest character in the film, and I'm not saying that the woman out-evils him either. The scariest character is Brian, Chris' son and the only other male in the family. From his very first appearance, as he watches a group of boys picking on a girl in his class, we see that he's adopted his father's worst excesses at a very young age.

He's even scarier in that regard, because his cruelty is still yet to mature, and Zach Rand's spiteful performance helps that along.

The standout, predictably, is Pollyanna McIntosh as the title character. Given how she's not big on talking, her performance is expressive and feral, embellished by certain aids in editing and storytelling. Her character being The Woman, that makes her the definitive article of womanhood, as far as this film's female characters are concerned.

Having thought about the film quite a bit since seeing it, I don't believe that it's a misogynistic film, but rather a film about misogyny. The treatment of Chris' wife and daughter might seem as harsh in the script as in Chris' actions towards them. However, the film angrily indicts women who don't stand up for what they believe in, when they apparently have every chance.

To many, this affront to the expectations of feminist representation in film will be abhorrent. But crucially, I don't think that any of the filmmakers believe, as presented here, that all men are evil and all women are good. They're telling a story in which the real monster – a sexist, abusive pig who's got up on his hind trotters and proclaimed himself to be in the right – can only be stopped by women, and yet they don't declare that all women are free of guilt, for their part in enabling the monster.

All of which comes to a head in the aggressively gory climax. There's a point to the general misanthropic thrust of the film, and that point might not make it easy or enjoyable watch. What seems like a film about delayed gratification in the line of gory revenge movies is instead revealed as something else entirely.

But if you profess to enjoy Saw or Final Destination for the inventive and elaborate deaths, as gory as they are, the blunt force trauma of The Woman is probably not for you. As repulsive as it is, I also found it thought provoking, complex and highly unpredictable, even if I would never recommend it as a horror film to watch on a night in with your mates.

Disc

The Woman comes with a fairly comprehensive package of extras on this region-free Blu-ray disc. This includes a couple of brisk making-of features, and some deleted scenes that don't really add much to the tightly edited film. There's also an audio track of Sean Spillane's Distracted, one of the songs from the film's soundtrack.

Exclusive to the Blu-ray is an American Horror panel from this year's FrightFest. I found myself wondering, as I watched Total Film's discussion (with directors McKee, Andrew van den Houten, Ti West, Joe Lynch, Adam Green and Larry Fessenden) if it could serve as an extra on any number of films by its other contributors. Either way, it's insightful, and a canny addition.

More detached is Mi burro, a surreal Spanish-language animation whose only real connection to The Woman is the fact that McKee produced it. I suppose it accompanies the disturbing main feature in much the same way as Pixar prefaces its features with charming short films.

My fundamental nitpick is the disc's lack of a subtitle track. It's not an oversight that's unique amongst Revolver Entertainment's catalogue, but having mild hearing difficulties, I appreciate that some people, more hard of hearing than I, will have more trouble following the film without subtitles than I did. How hard can it be to include an English subtitle track, in this day and age?

For the great audio and video transfer, and the extra value of the FrightFest feature, I would recommend the Blu-ray over the DVD in this case, but I wouldn't similarly recommend the film to everybody. If you've read through this review, you already know whether or not you want to give this one a try. 

Film:
Disc:

You can rent or buy The Woman at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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If you go to sleep at night thinking, "I might not be Tom Cruise or Kevin Spacey, but I could be in one of those straight-to-DVD movies. Nobody famous is ever in those", then firstly, think again, and secondly, that's a bit weird.

There are a limited number of cinemas in this world and a heckuva lot of movies looking to get screen time. Most of those are low-budget films with casts of unknowns, or maybe some of those guys who were in that show, you know the one. More often than you'd bet, though, household names turn up in all kinds of hijinks you usually never even hear of.

Setup, out on DVD now, is one of those under-the-radar movies. It stars the former Mr Witherspoon, Ryan Phillippe, and Curtis '50 Cent' Jackson as Vincent and Sonny, two buddies turned bank robbers - until Vincent shoots his pal and a childhood-friend-turned-accomplice and leaves them out to dry after a profitable diamond heist intended to block a prison transfer of his badass father.

Be forewarned - you'll get to see a grown man say, "It's sleepy time" to 50 Cent in this film. Willis plays a mob boss called Mr Biggs - yes, Mr Biggs - who likes to tell people he prefers the traditional newspaper over online publishing before he suspends them from the ceiling by their feet and drowns them. It's that kind of tomfoolery.

Since 2005's Get Rich Or Die Tryin', Fiddy has branched out from the obvious hip-hop self-help debut with mass appeal that he was always bound to make. In Setup, and this year's Danny Trejo-starring graphic novel adaptation and straight-to-DVD compadre Vengeance, our musclebound manchunk delves back into the world of street violence and organised crime.

Jackson performs admirably considering the material. He wouldn't be a bad actor given the chance, but spends most of Setup running around like an eager little kid. Why Marvel Studios hasn't hoicked him into the comic book movie wagon-train as Luke Cage: Powerman is worth a mystery.

From not-on-general-release unknowns to veterans of shunning the silver screen, anyone who remembers VHS is aware that Setup isn't Willis' first straight-to-video foray. It's not his only one this year either, as Catch .44 is heading the same way on the 20th December. A good example of Willis' ability to successfully surf the wave of his career came in 1998 when, a year after the fantastic Fifth Element baffled yet delighted cinema-goers, Universal Studios Home Video released the decidedly rubbish Willis-starring Mercury Rising.

Not to be confused with Steven Sommers legendary camp-fest action horror Deep Rising released the same year, the - ironically - less mercurial of the Risings was just another entry in the autistic child genius under threat from shadowy figures subgenre. That stage in Willis' career might've been more interesting if he'd skipped the action-hero-helping-kids period or been more comedically Schwarzenegger about the whole shebang, but then we wouldn't've seen any dead people in The Sixth Sense.

Perhaps it's thanks to gaining his popularity on television in a similar way to one-time-Batman and critics' darling George Clooney that Willis is just one of those well-known faces who can survive a film or ten not seeing general release? Whatever the reason, when everyone's favourite Roy Rogers-impersonator turns up on DVD, it's not always a bad thing. 2009's sci-fidentity crisis Surrogates and 2008's Assassination Of A High School President met with modest acclaim. Not so much though for 2007's Perfect Stranger, only released in American cinemas and on DVD in Britain. A personal favourite is 2005's Hostage, about an outpouring of emos - the correct collective term - who get a bit too trigger-depressed during a home invasion.

Setup's plot is so thin as to be immaterial. It wisely moves at a quick pace to avoid dwelling too much on the formulaic, petty gangland antics, but there's no time or reason to invest in any of these characters unless you already identify somehow with their street-savvy rage. When the Russians and several million dollars become involved, and then a gung-ho hoodlum acquaintance of Fiddy's shoots himself in the noggin by accident and ends up in a meat grinder while an implausible cockney rambles about the cranial capacity of the average neanderthal, you'll wonder if you're watching the same film you were 20 minutes before.

People walk in and out of scenes to deliver overly dramatic and cliched lines only to walk off again within a few seconds, leaving the recipient of their monologue to stare into space like they were on an episode of General Hospital. Second-time director, long-time stuntman Mike Gunther aims for a Guy Ritchie style with a dash of Tarantino dialogue, but ends up more Danny Dyer guest-starring in Prison Break.

No special features were in evidence on the review disc beyond the bog-standard scene selection. Possibly the kindest words to be said about Setup are that when the subtitles are on and any unnecessarily terrible background music kicks in to hide the fact that nothing's happening - every scene, basically - the screen displays "Rap music playing" or "Soft rock music playing" in giant letters. This allows for convenient muting depending on your musical preferences.

Setup is a film by angry men for angry men. It won't affect Willis' career, but is a sign that Jackson needs to look for higher quality scripts. Phillippe should know better by now. The movie begins with a prison, there's a lot of beatings, shooting and shivving, and every character calls every other character man or bitch. Watch it while the missus is out, but not when there's any football on. And try not to hit anyone with the remote.

Film:

You can rent or buy Setup at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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There are some video covers that hold such an allure for film fans of a certain age that, even now, they’re capable of triggering a certain giddy excitement in those of us who can recall feverishly perusing the empty box on the shelves of early 80s video rental stores. Sometimes these covers were titillating (The Perils Of Gwendoline), horrifying (The Driller Killer), or intriguing (Alien), and sometimes they spoke promises of such unmitigated violence and debauchery that you were sold from the moment you laid eyes on them.

One such release was The Exterminator, a video cover that featured a muscular, leather clad, motorcycle helmeted avenger brandishing a flamethrower. Looking at it now, it could only really excite an S&M enthusiast with a fondness for Top Gear, but back in the day, it epitomised all that was thrilling, dangerous and forbidden about the home video explosion.

Watching it at home when the folks were in bed, terrified that the clunking mechanics of the top loading VHS recorder would disturb the household from its slumber, it was a film that, at the time, more than delivered on the violence front, even though that black clad avenger bore little relation to the movie’s central protagonist. Machetes were brandished, bad guys were fed into industrial meat grinders and sexual deviants were torched and executed in the festering dens of iniquity in which they indulged their vile, criminal practices. In short, it had everything a discriminating teenage boy could demand of a video that he wasn’t supposed to see. So whatever rating I’ve ended up giving this, my 14-year old self would probably insist on adding an extra star at the very least.

However, watching it now, it’s easy to see the deficiencies that existed in a film from a director (James Glickenhaus) who maintains that he was attempting to examine the effects of the Vietnam War on the psyche of a man no longer able to discern where the boundaries of fighting that war lay. The story of John Eastland (Robert Ginty) a Vietnam veteran whose best friend Michael Jefferson (Steve James) is attacked and paralysed by local thugs, it follows Eastland as he takes to the streets as a vigilante calling himself the Exterminator; first to seek revenge on those who attacked his friend, and then to mete out justice to any criminals foolish or unfortunate enough to cross his path.

There are nods to the possibility of post-traumatic stress disorder playing a part in Eastland’s actions, as well as cursory allusions to the political fallout generated by having such a character on the streets, but essentially, it’s a fairly simple film: bad guys do something bad, bad guys die screaming in agony (albeit off-screen for the most part).

The performances range from competent to bad, and the characters are mostly sketches providing no real depth, while the main story follows a path that throws up little in the way of intrigue or surprises. There is a subplot involving a romance between a female doctor (Samantha Eggar) and a Detective (Christopher George) who is attempting to bring The Exterminator to justice, but you should pay it little heed. It exists purely to give the relatively well known Eggar something to do, while contriving a reason for the policeman to be in a hospital at the same time as Eastland during a crucial moment. It’s a ham-fisted coincidence designed to bring about the break in the case the police need, and ensure that the film can safely proceed to its concluding face-off.

So, the acting is variable, the plot is no great shakes, and it’s nowhere near as violent as I recalled, none of which is to say that I can find a reason to be any less fond of this film than I was 26 years ago.

Although thematically similar to Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver (both films feature a Vietnam veteran meting out vigilante justice on the streets of New York while trying to save a prostitute from a life of abuse), The Exterminator, despite its $2million budget, is made firmly in the exploitation tradition. A narrative that is driven predominately by the need for revenge, with set piece sequences featuring depictions of extreme violence and two-dimensional villains who perpetrate some very vile acts indeed, its main accomplishments are its capacity to thrill, shock or entertain, the retribution administered to the bad guys in particular proving amusingly (and gruesomely) cathartic.

But the real appeal of this film for me now lies in two aspects of its production that would have totally passed me by on first viewing. The first is its depiction of New York itself; the city’s grubbier aspects during this period providing a huge part of the film’s allure (something that distributors Arrow clearly recognise, as they have included a ‘then and now’ stroll along 42nd Street as part of the extras package).

There are few cities in cinema as recognisable as New York, particularly the 70s version of seedy no-go back streets, litter strewn sidewalks and porno theatre doorways populated with brooding low-lifes every 10 yards. It’s a world familiar from such films as The French Connection (1971), Death Wish (1974), Taxi Driver (1976), The Wanderers (1979), The Warriors (1979), Driller Killer (1979), Maniac (1980) and Basket Case (1982); instantly recognisable and a pleasure to see again here.

This is a New York that, shot artfully through the lens of a film camera and from a safe distance of over 30 years and almost 3,500 miles, it is strangely easy to romanticise; a seedy, vicarious thrill that is as integral to the experience of enjoying the movies in which it appears as is the Paris of love, magic and romance depicted in Gigi, Funny Face or Amelie.

In The Exterminator, we visit all the backdrops one might expect, including the gaudy neon-lit exteriors where hookers tout for trade, a scummy hotel where wholesale slaughter is administered to paedophile sex traffickers, a barren and dangerous looking park in which an old lady is mugged, and an abandoned and desolate dock-side that provides the scenario for a climactic showdown in the early hours. It’s the sort of action that just wouldn’t come to life in the same way if set in any other city, New York and exploitation cinema going together like Pam Grier and the line “The baddest one-chick hit-squad that ever hit town!"

The film’s other main strength is its lead, Robert Ginty. He’s not the greatest or most charismatic actor you’ve ever seen, but his essential ordinariness really works within the confines of a story like this. If made today, The Exterminator would likely be a glossy vehicle for someone like Liam Neeson or Jason Statham, men who look like movie stars and seem about as vulnerable as genitals in a cast iron codpiece at a one-legged ball-kicking contest.

Ginty, however, looks like someone you might work with or live next door to, exactly the sort of fellow who, with a sufficiently traumatic past in the arena of war, is likely to snap one day and wreak havoc on those he feels deserve it. Ginty’s is a performance that helps to ground the movie in some sort of reality, reigning things in just when the potential for things to get very ridiculous indeed seems possible.

It should also be noted that the production values are actually quite impressive in places, the film’s budget being put to particularly good use in the explosive Vietnam prologue. Also, one thing that can be said of Glickenhaus is that he knows how to draw out the aesthetics of a mob boss being fed into a mincer, offsetting the grisly action in the foreground against a silhouette of the action on the warehouse wall in the background.

There are, however, times when the experience proves less than immersive (a car chase in particular, when a teenage hoodlum driving one vehicle suddenly transforms into a middle-aged stuntman in an ill fitting wig), and the script was never going to make any viewer question the moral issues of a society that asked men to die for it but didn’t know what to do with them when they didn’t.

Yes, it’s rough round the edges, some of the acting fails to convince, and it may not appeal to those who are unfamiliar with the exploitation tradition from which it emerged, but somehow this is a film that adds up to more than the sum of its parts. It will never be considered a great movie, but it contains sufficient spectacle, technical flair and good old-fashioned carnage to deserve its cult status. But ultimately, it will appeal primarily to video nostalgists with a penchant for an era when all you really wanted to know about a film was what the picture on the box looked like.

Disc

I was pleasantly surprised at how good the film looked, the Arrow Blu-ray featuring a rather impressive transfer that only really suffers from visible grain in some of the night time scenes. The sound is occasionally muffled at times, but for the most part is clear and lacking in extraneous noise.

Arrow has not been without its critics, particularly when releasing films in the wrong aspect ratio (yes, I’m looking at you, Bird With The Crystal Plumage) but they’ve done a decent enough job with this release. Besides the film looking about as good as anyone had any right to hope it would, the extras and commentary are entertaining and enlightening. 42nd Street Then And Now - a tour of New York's former sleaze circuit (15 mins), in which the film director Frank Henenlotter laments the changes which have occurred in the area, goes a long way to explaining the production design that informed some of his cult classics such as the Basket Case trilogy and Frankenhooker, while also highlighting the rich exploitation, horror and porno heritage of the street’s former theatres which have since been sacrificed in the name of tourism and progress. It also features footage of a man hammering a five-inch nail up his nose if that’s your ‘bag’.

There’s also a very brief introduction to the film from director James Glickenhaus, along with a more substantial interview running to 20 minutes, in which he discusses the movie’s origins, influences and enduring appeal. Finally, the commentary with producer Mark Buntzen, moderated by film critic and exploitation authority Calum Waddell, is packed with anecdotes about the making of the film, the rapport between the two proving consistently engaging throughout a conversation that doesn’t flag for a second.

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You can rent or buy The Exterminator at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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Elizabeth Halsey (Cameron Diaz) is the type of teacher you really wouldn't want teaching your kids. Conversely, she's the type of teacher every teenager (particularly the boys) would love to have. She's a brash, brazen gold-digger who thinks that teaching is a dead-end job that she can't wait to get away from, and spends far too much time high or drunk. On the day she's about to leave and marry Mark, a ridiculously rich man, she discovers that she is about to be dumped, left without her designer goods and with little choice but to return, shamefully, to work in the school.

Not looking forward to life as a seventh grade teacher, she embraces her debauched side, drinking and taking drugs around and in the school. Wanting to escape her life of rental apartments and no money, she starts hunting for a new man, though that's not as easy as it seems on her teacher’s salary. Her only salvation, she decides, would be breast implants, but again, a lack of money is bound to get in the way of this life fulfilling ambition.

Surrounded by students she hates and teachers she doesn't particularly like either, it's the arrival of new substitute teacher Scott (Justin Timberlake) that gets her heart racing; he's suave, sophisticated, single and from a moneyed background. He's perfect for Elizabeth, despite the attention he's getting from her colleague, Amy (Lucy Punch).

Elizabeth suddenly discovers a way to raise the money to get her much needed breast implants, though it will involve defrauding the school. Throwing herself into her new responsibilities, she partakes in the most inappropriate car wash you're likely to see in a 15-certificate film. As she realises how easy it will be to make money, she latches onto every opportunity she can – selling lost possessions, cashing in empty drinks cans, and offering her services as a teacher for cash.

All this money grabbing soon raises Amy's suspicions, especially as she has now started dating Scott and doesn't want anything to ruin her chances with her new beau. She's intent on bringing Elizabeth's world crashing down around her, revealing her various indiscretions to the school authorities and drumming this bad teacher out of the profession once and for all.

Cameron Diaz manages to carry the film in spite of an average script. Whether boozy and high or over-working her students, she manages to pull off a character that should be vile, and makes her rather charming. She's at her best when she's being ruthless and calculating, particularly during the last few minutes of the film.

Timberlake succeeds in his role as a young, substitute teacher who is just the right side of being geeky and uncool, without being dislikeable. He gets a chance to sing, but the result is cheesy and cringe-worthy.

Segel doesn't stray too far from type, with his sarcastic and self-deprecating wit. Lucy Punch, on the other hand, is fantastic as Amy, full of neuroses and bitterness, while outwardly exuding sweetness and light. Phyllis Smith puts in an wonderful performance with very little screen time as Elizabeth's confidante, the dowdy Lynn.

The School's Out Edition contains a “new rude cut – not seen in cinemas”. The script isn't so much rude as disappointingly unfunny. It's uneven and poorly paced, with scenes that seem to have been written by someone who thinks a few swear words, drugs and sex talk are funny without actually knowing what they're doing. With a lack of laughs and the flimsiest of stories, where thin threads are woven together unsatisfactorily, it's a difficult film to like, despite some decent performances.

In the pantheon of gross-out comedies, there are films like Animal House and American Pie. Outside, far in the distance, there's Bad Teacher.

Disc

On the disc, there’s a collection of silly outtakes, where the characters say the word 'boner' over and over. Segel talks about being in the TV series The Bachelor, Amy gets an extended scene where she's told off for talking, and Russell gets an extended rejection. These are all puerile and pointless.

Six deleted scenes offer five-and-a-half minutes of extra footage that manage to annoy more than entertain. Elizabeth spends more time at a breast clinic, Amy talks to a student with a boner, Scott carries out an English lesson, the students arrive in Springfield and Elizabeth embarks on her first session as a counsellor. One thing the deleted scenes offer is more time for Garrett and Elizabeth's relationship, as he tries to win over the girl of his dreams.

Way Behind The Scenes With Jason And Justin features a short mock-interview with Jason Segel and Justin Timberlake. Segel plays an overbearing and annoying actor, while Justin plays the part of the uncomfortable star who’s trying to convince Segel he's a serious actor. They spend time taking pot shots at each other's careers, share barbed witticisms and brag about their own achievements. It's not a terrible feature, but it does seem to outstay its welcome.

Raising More Than Funds is the only real featurette on the DVD, focusing on the car wash scene. The cast and crew talk about its production, how hot Cameron Diaz is, and how the scene was filmed.

With this being an extended version of the film, it would have been nice to have the opportunity to play the theatrical cut of the film, but that doesn't appear to be an option on the DVD release.

Bad Teacher is a rare thing: a wasted potential of a film and extras. It's got a cast that pull off good performances, saving the film from a one star rating, and a premise that could have made an inappropriately entertaining offering, but Bad Teacher fails on too many levels.

Unfortunately, from the start of the film to the last of the extras, this is one hugely disappointing, missed opportunity.

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You can rent or buy Bad Teacher at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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The latest slice of cult horror to get the deluxe treatment from the beautiful die-hards at Arrow Video, Maniac Cop is an interesting film almost despite itself, if only as a time capsule, a throwback to a bygone age of high-concept horror that has since sadly died out alongside the scores of video shops where the genre made its spiritual home.

Maniac Cop is the kind of Ronseal movie that has all but disappeared in recent years: there is a cop. He is a murderous maniac. That’s pretty much it. See you in 90 minutes. I imagine you already know if a cop slaughtering people is something you're willing to drop money on, so what you probably want to know is – does it deliver on the eyebrow-raising premise?

The answer is a resounding ‘kind of’. In an interview with writer and B-movie supremo Larry Cohen on the Blu-ray, Cohen recalls meeting with director William Lustig and Lustig putting him on the spot, asking him to pitch an idea for features. Seeing the chance to cash in on the success of Lustig’s last horror, Maniac, and using the classic high-concept trick of generic x-meets-y (cop movie meets horror movie), Cohen pitched the title of Maniac Cop.

Buoyed by Lustig’s subsequent enthusiasm, he then even managed to ad-lib a tagline: You Have The Right To Remain Silent…Forever. Lustig excitedly ended the meeting soon afterwards, before calling a startled Cohen up two hours later to inform him that he’d already raised the necessary budget.

It’s a nice anecdote that also sums up Maniac Cop’s inherent problems quite succinctly – it seems like both Cohen and Lustig left that initial meeting thinking that the bulk of the work had already been done. There is nothing much in Maniac Cop to suggest that either of them were interested on building on their admittedly great premise, and there’s a sense that the story is content to go through the motions.

Early on, the film threatens to do some interesting with the police procedural/horror hybrid, as frightened citizens start killing policemen in the mistake belief that each one might be the murderous plod.
Before long, however, the film turns into the most rote of slashers, lurching along from kill to kill only pausing for a quick back-story that is, at best, adequate.

The kill scenes aren’t gruesome or memorable enough, the film takes itself way too seriously considering the subject matter, and the maniac cop himself, Matt Cardell, just doesn’t compare in terms of charisma to his 80s slasher-villain peers.

Despite all of its many, many flaws, however, Maniac Cop somehow still possesses enough charm to make for an entertaining watch, something largely down to its decent cast. Tom Atkins reprises his lovable gruff detective role almost wholesale from Night Of The Creeps, and Shaft himself, Richard Roundtree, shows up as the police commissioner.

Probably the main reason that Maniac Cop has maintained a significant cult status for many years is the presence of King of Geeks Bruce Campbell, who has a large role as a police officer wrongly accused of the murders. This is before the cult of Bruce really took off, however, and in his role of straight romantic lead he doesn't get to do much of what he does best, which is a) hurl himself through the air, b) get showered with viscera, or c) spout one-liners, which is a bit of a waste. He's still as hammily watchable as ever, however.

Another area where Maniac Cop is better than your run-of-the mill slasher of the period is in its action scenes, with some pretty impressively staged fight and chase sequences, particularly towards the end. It's a very well-made film - much better than it had the right to be, considering it was shot in ten days and conceived in two minutes - which makes it all the more of a shame that it never truly explodes into life.

Maniac Cop 2, the superior sequel, learned from its predecessor’s mistakes by making things campier and sillier, with better kills and more action overall. It's also a film well worth checking out if only to hear the world's worst rap play out over the credits, the Maniac Cop Rap (“Set him on fire, shoot him with an Uzi/He'll still show up in your Jacuzzi”).

So the original Maniac Cop is what it is, and what it is is a film about a cop who murders people. And you know what? Sometimes, that's enough.

Disc

The video transfer is excellent, looking as good as any print as Maniac Cop has ever looked with vivid and natural looking colours. The packaging is also up to Arrow's typically high standards, with some beautiful original artwork and a fold-out booklet featuring interviews with director Lustig and writer Troy Howarth.

The special features are a mixed bag - there is no commentary, with the bulk of the material focused around three interviews with Atkins, Cohen, and co-star Laurene Landon. Landon's interview is pretty dull but the interviews with Atkins and Cohen are great fun, with the avuncular Atkins reminiscing entertainingly and Cohen giving an interesting insight into his own storied B-movie career.

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You can rent or buy Maniac Cop at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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Henry: Portrait Of A Serial Killer is a 1986 horror film, loosely based on the real life crimes of Henry Lee Lucas. The film wasn’t released until 1990, in part due to the brutal depictions of violence shown in the film. In fact, it was not available uncut in the United Kingdom until 2003.

Henry is certainly not the kind of film you would use to demo your home cinema. In fact, seeing the film on Blu-ray allows the viewer to see how dated it is. Obviously, the film was made on a very low budget of just $110,000, and was shot in 16mm, but watching the film in 1080p as was probably never intended makes it look awful.

I’d always expect a good bit of grain, and would be disappointed if they had made it completely noise-free, but the transfer is so bad that it is difficult to see what is going on at times, particularly in the internal and night scenes. The sound also suffers badly; there are a couple of external scenes where the sound is so badly affected that you can hardly hear what the actors are saying.

The film itself however, is still pretty powerful in parts, and is a very difficult watch. Henry murders indiscriminately, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. He then gets one of his former prison buddies involved in his serial killing ways, who drags along his sister, who is always just on the outside of what is happening.

The film takes weird shifts in the way the murders are displayed. For the first 15 minutes, we're only shown the aftermath of the murders, with a soundtrack of what is obviously supposed to be Henry committing the acts played over the images. Later, we are shown the full murders, as the camera follows Henry and Otis around without judgement. To be honest, whilst viewing the murders was very powerful and very upsetting, I didn’t really understand what the point was in changing the mechanics of the film.

Henry: Portrait Of A Serial Killer predates Michael Haneke’s Funny Games, where two well-dressed protagonists torture and kill a family, constantly breaking the fourth wall to ask why the viewer isn’t doing anything, and I’d imagine that Haneke’s film is heavily influenced by McNaughton’s, released four years earlier.

Indeed, there is a similar scene of a family massacre in Henry, where Henry and Otis film the murders and watch them over and over. It was at this point which I found myself desperate to switch the film off, because I couldn’t bear to be a part of it any more. The thing is, unlike Funny Games, or Man Bites Dog, there doesn’t seem to be any point to the killing. Both of those films are pretty tiresome in that they tell you off for watching for almost their entire length, but at least there seems to be a point to this.

Granted, McNaughton tries to give Henry a (slightly) sympathetic backstory, and compared to a monster like Otis, who's desperate to rape and commit necrophilia, he is a saint, but in the 82 minutes that I spent in his company, I neither warmed to him nor rooted for him at any point.

However, for every disturbing scene, there's another one with paper-mache severed heads and corn syrup blood, and it’s very apparent in 1080p that this film has not aged well at all. Add this to the fact that whilst the actors’ performances are mindblowing, particularly Michael Rooker as the eponymous killer, the dialogue is laughable. Lines like “Adios, amigo!” and “I guess I love you too” leave the film feeling more like a b-movie than the serious document the director clearly intended.

While some of the scenes are still horrific, a lot of them look cheap and schlocky. Its attempt to make a feature length film on a shoestring budget is admirable, but it’s unfortunate that its low production values are so painfully evident. Henry: Portrait Of A Serial Killer has its fans, of that I’m sure, but it’s a film that only hardcore horror aficionados will need to own on Blu-ray.

Disc

StudioCanal have been very generous with the extras, and if you enjoyed the film enough to want to know more about it, then all your questions are sure to be answered here. There’s the usual director commentary with John McNaughton, and there’s a fairly lengthy making-of, along with trailers, stills and deleted scenes.

There’s also a documentary on the man who inspired the film: Henry Lee Lucas, and some more interviews with director John McNaughton. The most interesting feature available is the censorship history, where McNaughton talks through what had been censored from various versions, although admittedly, after watching it, I think that I’ll be having nightmares for weeks.

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You can rent or buy Henry: Portrait Of A Serial Killer at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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Not only is it not necessary to have seen Never Back Down to enjoy its sequel, I’d actually advise against seeing it. Not because it will adversely affect your enjoyment of specifically this film, but because after watching Never Back Down, you will struggle to enjoy anything at all for at least three days. I watched it because it seemed appropriate for reviewing this film, only to find that I was unable to see Never Back Down 2 due to blurred vision after a three-day binge of self-loathing and noisy crying.

Luckily for me, once the tears and sadness had disappeared, I found that Never Back Down 2 is a rare straight-to-video sequel that greatly improves upon its predecessor.

Like 150 other MMA/boxing/street fighting films that bypassed cinema screens, Never Back Down 2 is about a troubled soul with a heart of gold entering a martial arts tournament. In fact, it triples your value for money because you get three of them, plus a bonus fourth character that starts on the same path as the other three but gets distracted by the dark side along the way.

These four characters are all struggling with problems financial, parental, social and physical. Each finds either solace or solution by training with grand MMA wizard Case (played by the film’s director, Michael Jai White). Case, a talented MMA fighter who disappeared from the scene due to a prison stretch and Hurricane Katrina, is constantly hassled by racist local cops. They arrest him on the eve of the big money Beatdown tournament, and it’s up to his students to get him out of jail in time to coach them through the event.

The four main-character split works well, introducing an element of doubt as to who will win the tournament. Granted, it’s still fairly predictable, but in a combat-sport tournament film, anything less than entirely predictable should be commended.

This small point actually exemplifies the main appeal of Never Back Down 2 – it doesn’t do much different from the many similar films already on video shop shelves, but it does the same things better.

The performances aren’t bad at all. It’s a low budget film and it’s not packed with big names, but they all do quite well. I had some reservations about Todd Duffee, who I’ve seen fighting in the UFC (where he currently holds the record for the fastest knockout, taking out Tim Hague in just seven seconds), as this is his first acting role. The size of the guy would suggest that he was well suited to playing a wall or a slab of concrete, but I wasn’t convinced he was the guy to be playing a college student concerned about his mother’s financial difficulties. He makes a pretty good fist of it, though, and will be someone to keep an eye out for in the future.

Of course, it’s unlikely anyone is watching Never Back Down 2 for the acting performances. It’s the punching performances in the fight scenes we’re interested in. As a big MMA fan, I found a lot to enjoy in the matches, which were dramatised but fairly faithful to real MMA bouts. That said, if you’re not a fan of the sport, I don’t know what you’re going to take from them, or from the training scenes. My guess would be not much.

Fortunately for everyone, there’s a great scene where a handcuffed Michael Jai White takes on ten cops at the same time. You don’t have to be an MMA fan to enjoy that. It’s a head-clobbering good time.

A decent chunk of the credit for the film should go to the script. Within the confines of the formula these films seem to follow, this one is more mature, developed and interesting than the others that I’ve seen (such as the similarly titled Beatdown).

Never Back Down 2: The Beatdown, then, is a surprisingly strong straight-to-video MMA actioner. It does everything it’s meant to do, and it does it well. It’s unspectacular, but it’s good enough. Recommended for MMA fans.

Disc

We get some deleted scenes that I’ll politely refer to as incredibly brief and of no consequence. There’s also a commentary with Jai White and actors Todd Duffee and Scottie Epstein. It’s not the most informative chat-track, but they have a good chemistry together and it’s a pleasant enough affair.

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You can rent or buy Never Back Down 2: The Beatdown at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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Jodie Foster’s third feature as director, The Beaver stars Mel Gibson as Walter Black, a depressed, alcoholic CEO of a toy company, who, in a battle to recover from his depression, starts talking through a beaver puppet in some sort of strange mockney accent.

Sound strange? It is. However, aside from the A-list cast, which also features Jodie Foster and Jennifer Lawrence, and the rather eccentric invention of the beaver itself, it’s actually quite an indie-by-numbers film. With the usual quirky, messed up family narrative (this time it’s a hyper-intelligent son who makes post-it art), clever cinematography (I loved the tracking shot through bedrooms showing Walter and his son getting ready for separate dates), and a soundtrack consisting of semi-obscure indie-rock bands (including Selkirk’s own Frightened Rabbit!).

Underneath all the seen-it-all-before visual style, The Beaver is quite a charming film, admittedly. A lot of the appeal lies in seeing Mel Gibson playing a broken man, especially given that the film was shelved for quite a while following revelations about his private life. Don’t get me wrong, what he did was unforgivable, but watching him play the character of Walter absolutely straight is really impressive.

Even more so, when you took into account that infamous gurner Jim Carrey and serial shouter Steve Carrell were both initially considered for the part, if the film had been left in the hands of either of those actors, I think it would have had a lot more of an emphasis on comedy than drama. Mel Gibson actually does a great job, portraying a man who has absolutely nothing to live for, whilst talking through a toy beaver.

The original script must have been pretty ambiguous, and I could easily imagine The Beaver as a slapstick comedy or an overwrought tragedy. However, Jodie Foster has played it straight down the middle – it’s more like a drama with some laughs. Foster has done a sterling job of juggling direction and a supporting role as Walter’s long-suffering wife, Meredith. A lot of the best scenes in the film are the heated exchanges between Walter and Meredith, who is just trying to find some sort of sign that the man she fell in love with is behind the utterly melancholic shell of a man that Walter has become.

The rest of the film devotes itself Walter’s fraught relationship between his son, Porter, played by Anton Yelchin. Yelchin’s performance is one of utter frustration and hatred towards his father; it’s blatant that Porter, like his mother, wants to shake this awful illness out of his father. There’s also a love story between social outcast Porter, and the straight A student, cheerleader, girl next door, Norah (Jennifer Lawrence), who, despite her popular demeanour, is quite a dark character, and is just as messed up as everyone else in the film.

The Beaver is a film that sounds great on paper, but with its shallow depth cinematography, and dysfunctional family narrative, aside from the character of The Beaver, you can’t help but feel that it has been done better elsewhere. A lot of the appeal is the life-imitating-art car crash that is Mel Gibson.

In America, the film was a complete flop, and at last count, hadn’t even taken one million dollars at the box office. The complete indifference that cinemagoers have shown the film might be down to the fact that these sort of indie dramedy films never do that well at the box office, and it might find its intended audience on DVD, or it might be a case that no one has time for Mel Gibson anymore.

Disc

The extras are a little thin on the ground. There are two deleted scenes (one is very good, one not so good), an 11-minute featurette on the making of the film, which was highly enjoyable, and an overly long interview with Mel Gibson.

Film:
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You can rent or buy The Beaver at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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The Messenger is the directorial debut from Israeli screenwriter Oren Moverman, whose previous credits included the likes of Jesus’ Son and I’m Not There. The film follows Will Montgomery (Ben Foster), a US Army Staff Sergeant who’s returned from fighting in Iraq as a war hero, but still has time to serve.

He’s assigned to the Casualty Notification Service, where he is to be mentored by Captain Tony Stone (Woody Harrelson) who through his years doing the job has managed to perfect his technique to maintain professionalism as well as professional distance from the families of the deceased.

The pair clash over a number of things, but when Montgomery ignores his instructions and starts to comfort the relatives of the deceased, and later becomes romantically involved with the widow of a soldier (Samantha Morton), his position is compromised as he continues to struggle with the volatile and unpredictable emotions of the various next of kin.

The Messenger is frequently devastating, particularly during the various notification scenes, where the outpouring of emotions is handled beautifully by the cast, including some fantastic turns by the likes of Morton and Steve Buscemi. The reactions of the next of kin are all very different, but the grief is always clear.

Ultimately, the film is so much more than a succession of notifications of death, and is as much about how soldiers struggle to adjust to life at home once they’ve seen the horrors of war as it is about how the families of fallen soldiers react to news of the death of their loved ones. It effectively shows how death is very much a part of everyday life for a soldier, even when they return to the safety of home.

I mentioned previously how those portraying the families of the deceased deliver great performances, but the standout performances are really by the two leads. Harrelson, in particular, delivers a performance that more than justified his Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actor as, despite presenting a calm and cool veneer, it’s clear to see his internal struggle as he delivers the news. Outside of his job, we get a clearer image of him as a person, and see that he’s someone who has had a troubled personal life as a result of his career, with three divorces and a history of alcoholism – although he still frequents bars to pick up women.

Ben Foster is an actor whose work I enjoy a great deal, and he’s someone that can make the jump from serious drama such as this to genre fare such as Pandorum and The Mechanic with relative ease. He more than justifies his billing as the lead here, and although his role isn’t as showy as Harrelson’s, he still has layers of complexity to his character. A man who seems to struggle with his label as a war hero and finds his life is far from what he wants when he returns home. When in Iraq his role was clearly defined, but on returning to America he finds his girlfriend is engaged to another man and he’s assigned to a role that’s outside of his comfort zone.

The direction throughout is impressive, and I was surprised to read that this was the work of a first-time director as it’s an accomplished piece of work that, while far from showy, serves the material incredibly well, and rarely misjudges the tone.

It’s hard for me to imagine when I’ll return to The Messenger, given how emotionally exhausting I found it, but it’s a film that I’m glad I’ve seen. It’s a powerful film that gives a tasteful look at grief without ever seeming exploitative, with some moments of levity included to lighten the tone every now and then. When you add in the quality of the performances, this is a film well worth seeking out.

The Disc

The Messenger may not have the type of transfer that will blow you away at first, since it contains nothing in the way of action set pieces or rich, vivid colours that showcase its image quality. But like the film itself, it’s a subtle and quietly confident transfer with few faults, and appears very natural throughout, offering nice details for the most part. There are instances of grain here and there, though, which does weaken the presentation, particularly with black levels, but whether this was down to the transfer or how the film is lit is unclear.

Audio-wise, there’s very little here that will give a surround sound system a workout, but the dialogue is clear throughout, and this is by far the most important aspect of the production anyway. The score occasionally filters through to rear speakers, but generally it’s ignored.

With regards to extras there were none on the disc, sadly, which is a shame, as the US release contained some bonus documentaries as well as a feature length commentary with Harrelson, Foster, Moverman and producer Lawrence Inglee.

It’s a below average presentation for a film that, while it has its flaws, still contains plenty to appreciate, despite being incredibly tough going at times.

Film:
Disc:

You can rent or buy The Messenger at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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John Carpenter was the purveyor of some classics films and, arguably, most famous for such genre pieces such as Halloween, Assault On Precinct 13, Escape From New York and The Thing. The Ward is his first feature since Ghosts Of Mars way back in 2001. He's considered a master of many genres and isn't afraid to take risks, with some of his films (Big Trouble In Little China) being critical failures but fan favourites.

With such a reputation, what can he do with The Ward? Surely, the man who brought us Halloween, The Fog and the creepy Masters Of Horror offering Cigarette Burns can't misstep?

In 1966, Kristen (Amber Heard) sets a house on fire, is arrested by local police and placed in a hospital for the mentally insane, populated by predictably seedy orderlies, impatient nurses and disturbed female patients. She is introduced to Dr Gerald Stringer (Jared Harris) who, despite the attitude of the other professionals in the ward, is a nice guy and simply wants to discover why Kristen wanted to burn down a farmhouse.

Introduced to the other patients, Kristen discovers that there aren’t many people in this particular ward, and that they seem like a relatively content bunch, given their incarceration and mental states. They're all in the ward for some form of experimental therapy that really isn't explained but is sure to make them better. There are varying degrees of antagonism between each inmate and, as the film progresses, we discover that some of the inmates have been released... or have they?

The Ward is a tense psychological horror that is well made but generally dull. Elements of modern horror kick in towards the end, though it deftly avoids the recent forays into over-the-top gore that seems to have become a staple of the mainstream post-Saw. That said, the bits that are meant to make you jump are so tame that there's a feeling of disappointment and predictability when they do happen.

The insane asylum angle has been exploited many times over the years and with varying degrees of success. It’s a concept recently seen in Shutter Island, where it was handled with far more skill and with far better acting; in The Ward, it's difficult to tell whether Heard and Harris are bad actors or just bored. The Ward offers nothing new to the conceit with stereotypical, two-dimensional characters and formulaic storytelling. Even a late twist isn’t much of a surprise due to its familiarity. It also assumes that, by the end of the film, you still care about Kristen’s fate. That said, Kristen's back-story and tale of fractured psyche would probably have made a more interesting film.

The Disc

The HD transfer looks impressive, clean and sharp, with the picture quality that fans of the Blu-Ray format expect, but this renders everything far too shiny, especially given the setting. It has a Dolby True HD surround sound track, though there's not really enough to show it off in this film, which is disappointing considering how disorienting the audio could have been in this setting. If anything, this just goes to compound the whole film as a wasted opportunity that falls down on so many levels.

Clearly gleaned from an electronic press kit, there's an interview with John Carpenter where various questions are presented to him by an unseen individual (and displayed as caption cards), which cover the usual ground of why he did the film and where, what he brought to the proceedings and why. The whole interview package runs for three minutes.

Far lengthier are the disc’s cast interviews, gleaned from the same EPK. Running for 26 minutes, the key players are interviewed, but the questions are just as mind numbing as the Carpenter interview.

Finally, there are the cast interviews, and yes, they’re from the same press kit. There's more background here, including a brief description of the production company and its purpose. It's almost as if it was designed for investors to get behind the film. Beyond the first question, the production team do offer a meatier set of answers than the cast and Carpenter did. They're clearly hyped about the film, working with Carpenter and the story.

With such a broad contribution to film, including television work, you'd think that there might be some celebration of Carpenter’s 30-year body of work. Sadly, there's nothing else on the Blu-ray, marking a wasted opportunity, much like the film itself.

Film:
Disc:

You can rent or buy The Ward at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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The Conspirator is notably the first effort from the American Film Company, whose aim is to make historically accurate films based on the significant events that helped shape America, with a firm belief that fact is more interesting than fiction.

For its debut feature, it chose to focus on the assassination of Abraham Lincoln during the American Civil War, an event that had far greater consequences than the assassination of JFK. To direct this feature, a star who commands respect and has a proven track record (for the most part) was needed, and Robert Redford was just the man for the job.

The American Civil War and the assassination are obviously key to the story, but neither are dwelled on in great detail. The film is, in fact, about the subsequent trial and the quest to restore the confidence of the population in the justice system at any cost. Seven men and one woman, Mary Surratt (Robin Wright), who have ties to the South, are arrested and charged with conspiring to kill the president of the North, and tried by his vice president and secretary of state, in a military court. Newly qualified lawyer and war hero for the confederacy Frederick Aiken (James McAvoy) is tasked with defending Surratt by his boss Reverdy Johnson (Tom Wilkinson).

Aiken is reluctant to take the job, as he’s as keen for swift justice as anyone else, but soon finds that the evidence doesn’t stack up. Despite this, he’s faced with a succession of challenges, and soon realises this is anything but a fair trial. The prosecution, Joseph Holt (Danny Huston) is seemingly granted freedom to conduct himself as he pleases, and faces little objection from David Hunter (Colm Meaney) who’s in charge of the trial. Conflicted by his duties as a soldier, his allegiances to those he served in the war, and the interests of his client, Aiken must struggle against the odds to ensure Surratt receives a fair trial.

The Conspirator is fairly standard by the standards of court room dramas, and is no better or worse than many of the films of this type that were released in the 90s. Sure, the period setting with the backdrop of the American Civil War gives the film a distinct identity on the surface, but beneath that you pretty much know exactly what to expect.

To some, that’s a given, particularly being that it’s based on historical events, but the fact that most of the characters seem to wear their intentions on their sleeves means that very few of them have any substance or an ability to surprise the audience. Which is a shame, particularly given the quality of some of the names involved, which includes a great mix of stars and character actors.

Another one of the film’s major stumbling blocks is some incredibly clunky dialogue from time to time, as well as some lines so hilariously cheesy, they caused me to squirm in my seat. Despite the faults listed, I really quite enjoyed the film overall. Redford has crafted a film that has an incredibly classy look and feel, directing with the confidence that the actors can do the heavy lifting when it comes to telling the story of this incredibly important piece of American history.

It’s not a perfect film by any means, and there are many better films of both the legal drama and American Civil War variety out there. As such, The Conspirator is unlikely to win over any new converts to either genre, but for fans of the genres in question, it may be worth a look.

The Disc

The film is shot in incredibly low light, giving it a distinct look and feel which really works incredibly well for the most part. The 1080p transfer is of extremely high quality overall, even with occasional moments of blurring, particularly in some of the court room scenes, where light shines from the windows into the dark room. Landscape shots hold up well particularly early on in the film, when it opens on a battlefield. This scene is among the best I’ve seen on the format this year.

In addition to the great picture quality, the sound on offer is also excellent, offering a 5.1 DTS HD master audio mix, the aural aspect of the film makes a similar first impression to the picture quality. The remainder of the film shifts the focus to dialogue-heavy courtroom scenes, where all the dialogue is crisp, clear and easily distinguishable. These scenes don’t ignore the surround sound mix, though, as the voices of the crowd surround you, making these moments immersive experiences.

In terms of extras, there’s a significant amount of features and supplementary material to get stuck into that enrich the viewing experience.

There are ten brief features accessed via a Witness History submenu that range from three to six minutes in length, and are all presented in 1080i. They all focus on a different aspect of the film’s story and provide some welcome historical context.

In addition to the above, there’s a feature length commentary with Redford which is, if I’m perfectly honest, quite dull. There are moments of insight, but there are also quite a few long silences where he has very little to add. One for the hardcore fans only, I’d say.

The best feature on the disc is The Plot To Kill Lincoln, which at just over an hour, is pretty much the perfect companion piece to a historical movie such as this, given that it gives background info on all of the major characters. There’s also a making-of, which clocks in at just over 10 minutes, but is fairly run of the mill.

All in all, this is a surprisingly strong release for a film that didn’t exactly set the box office alight, and is unlikely to shift a high number of units. Still, both the film and this disc are well worth a look.

Film:
Disc:

You can rent or buy The Conspirator at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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Mrs Brown’s Boys is a curious beast. It’s based on trilogy of best-selling novels, the first of which was adapted as a film starring Angelica Huston as Agnes Browne. It was then adapted as a television series, which ran for seven series on Irish television. Yet this latest incarnation has been critically panned, despite being nominated for a BAFTA and consistently gaining viewer figures of more than two million. So is it as the bad as the critics say?

Mrs Brown’s Boys is about Agnes Brown (played by Brendan O’Carroll), a foul-mouthed Irish matriarch who devotes her life to interfering in the lives of her adult children and verbally abusing her 92-year-old father-in-law and ditzy best friend Winnie. The series has a very laissez-faire attitude to production, with quite a few outtakes being left in the finished programme, each episode opening and closing with a monologue from Agnes to the audience.

Many have derided the programme for being a drag show, with the Irish Times’ review of the first episode opining that “The whole thing is entirely predicated on viewers finding a man dressed as a foul-mouthed elderly woman intrinsically funny”.

The programme isn’t intended as a drag show. In an interview included on this DVD, Brendan O’Carroll states that the only reason he plays Agnes is that he couldn’t find anybody else who wanted to. Additionally, the fact that Agnes is played by a man is only referenced once in the whole series. Another thing that has led to people panning the show is the amount of swearing.

One of Agnes’s most prominent character traits is that she swears frequently. Actually, frequently is an understatement. Almost every other sentence has the word “fuck” or “feck” in it. At times it’s unnecessary and tiresome but Brendan O’Carroll pulls it off very well in most cases, and usually manages to inject it with the right amount of aggression or annoyance.

The critics taking issue with swearing uncovers quite an interesting double standard on their part – The Thick Of It has more swearing in it than pretty much anything on television, yet because it’s a niche, semi-improvised comedy on BBC Four, it’s praised to the hilt for containing so much swearing because it’s being gritty and raw, whereas Mrs Brown’s Boys is much more mainstream, and therefore derided as being lowbrow and idiotic for containing a lot of swearing.

But it’s not all swearing and knob gags. There are some great farcical moments, and some excellent character-based comedy along with a few light elements of satire. There’s also more pathos than you’d except in a mainstream BBC One sitcom, which helps to flesh out the characters a lot and make them more sympathetic.

The key to the programme’s success is Brendan O’Carroll himself. The rest of the cast (many of whom are members of O’Carroll’s family) are always the straight men, leaving it up to O’Carroll to pretty much carry the humour himself, whether through somewhat dry wit, profanity filled-outrage, or outrageous physical comedy. The scene that best illustrates this is the scene in episode six, where two Mormon missionaries make the mistake of paying Agnes a visit.

It’s not perfect, though. A lot of the humour is signposted far too clearly, such as the mix-up between a taser and a telephone in the first episode. And we’ve seen quite a few of the jokes crop up in some shape or form on television ad infinitum. Another negative is that, at times, the series seems to repeating itself. The “watch your fucking language in this house” joke is used twice in the series and is practically the same each time.

It may be something of a throwback to the sitcoms of the 1970s, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. When they’re done well, farce and innuendo can be an excellent form of comedy. And Mrs Brown’s Boys pulls them off with real panache. And dated comedy isn’t really such a bad thing. With the hyper-realistic sitcom steadily being milked for all it’s worth, it’s refreshing to see a more traditional comedy with a lot of the clichés of sitcom’s earlier years. Mrs Brown’s Boys is a sitcom I’d highly recommend.

Disc

The DVD has a healthy array of bonus features including trailers, deleted and extended scenes, outtakes, an interview with Brendan O’Carroll, and the series’ pilot episode. There’s roughly an hour and a half of extras on the second disc, which certainly go some way to making the DVD worth its retail price.

The video and sound quality are naturally of high quality given that the series was filmed in HD, and the animated DVD menus are well constructed. The lack of subtitles on both the main feature and the extras will be an annoyance to some.

Episodes:
Disc:

You can rent or buy Mrs Brown's Boys at Blockbuster.co.uk.

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As a child, I grew up with 60s war movies, and at the time l adored their mix of action, adventure, and their simplistic approach to heroism. But we all grow up, your tastes change, and you begin to see that not all war movies are created equal.

What I wasn't aware of at the time was that the whole genre of conflict cinema went through a series of moods, starting with the entirely jingoistic productions during the war itself, through to the more thoughtful and often more controversial post-war pieces.

Eventually, they came full circle, and actually became anti-war movies, of which the 1961 epic The Guns Of Navarone is a classic example.
I was going to say that it was the first of these, but really, its tonal inspiration is certainly The Bridge Over The River Kwai, made four years earlier. That movie took real events and bent them somewhat for better story telling (the bridge is still there, not blown to smithereens as per the movie), while Navarone delivers entirely fictional heroics from beginning to end.

Based very loosely on an Alistair MacLean novel, it tells the story of a crack platoon of military misfits sent on a suicide mission to a Greek island in the Aegean Sea, where the Germans control the area with two huge artillery guns mounted in a cave. Sadly, as entertaining a notion as this all is, there is no island called Navarone, nor were there any big guns, or a mission to destroy them – it's all pure hokum.

That said, this movie manages to pull off the whole legend of Navarone with such unreserved gusto that I think most people assumed some aspects of the story were true, or at least derived from historical events.

The model the film offers is now a familiar one, as it was copied numerous times in the following decade, most notably by The Dirty Dozen, Where Eagles Dare and countless other fictional war stories of the 60s.

However, in 1961, this was a largely fresh approach, with the idea of putting together so many unstable character elements into the pot just to see what goes wrong still an innovative one.

Yet none of this would have worked had the producer, Carl Forman, not put together one of the most formidable casts for any movie, ever. It included Gregory Peck, David Niven, Anthony Quinn, Stanley Baker, Anthony Quayle, James Darren, Irene Papas, Gia Scala, James Robertson Justice, and Richard Harris.

With such a large cast, some characters are often overlooked, but almost everyone I've mentioned gets at least one big scene, and the ones between Peck, Quinn and Niven are totally riveting. For Peck, it's one of his less sympathetic roles, as the leadership of this band of miscreants ultimately drives him to sacrifice Anthony Quayle's character to achieve the objective. But that's exactly where Navarone is great, because it's about the underlying tension between the characters, their allegiances and how the dynamic of the group alters during the story.

As such, it's now seen as something of a rather obvious tragedy about a homosexual love triangle, something that reviewers of the period entirely missed. Peck himself realised it during production, and summarised the plot at the time: "David Niven really loves Anthony Quayle, and Gregory Peck loves Anthony Quinn. Tony Quayle breaks a leg and is sent off to hospital. Tony Quinn falls in love with Irene Papas, and Niven and Peck catch each other on the rebound and live happily ever after."

That's actually pretty close to what's going on, but cinema-goers of the period were obviously far too excited by all the explosions and derring-do to notice. They also mostly missed the basic tenet of the story: that war destroys all those involved, irrespective of their virtues.
Perhaps it's worth forgiving those that missed all this, because the production values here are excellent. This was the most expensive movie made at the time, and looks it.

A special mention should go to composer Dimitri Tiomkin, who wrote the very evocative theme. How this is used throughout the movie, with its various hues and shades, is truly masterful. Instead of the end delivering a triumphant marching crescendo, he turns the Navarone theme into a wistful lamenting salute to the characters. The music is just marvellous over the entire production, and it’s an art I'd argue that we've largely lost these days.

Where it falls down by modern comparison is in the accuracy of military equipment, most of which is far too modern to have seen service in WWII, and especially anachronistic in the hands of the Germans. At the time, it wasn't considered important, because people wouldn't care if the tanks were from the 50s, or so it was thought.

The final irony of Navarone is that, because it was a huge success, more of the works of Alistair MacLean were filmed, including Ice Station Zebra and Where Eagles Dare. Given that much of what makes this film so interesting doesn't come from the pages of his book, which lacks the pivotal characters and events from the movie version, there's an irony in how it propelled the writer’s works.

Navarone contained a supreme subversion of the classic war story narrative, although it probably didn't get appreciated as such until much later.

The Disc

After watching some of the excellent additional content on the disc, one is left with the distinct impression that we're lucky to have anything whatsoever to look at, because chemically, the original negative had effectively self-destructed. The restoration of it, therefore, was a major undertaking, and much of what is seen comes from a pristine print held by a private collector.

Issues with sound were also addressed through other sources, and the whole movie was re-colour balanced and reassembled. It's still very grainy in a number of indoor and day-for-night scenes, but I accept that it's never going to look better than this.

In the naturally-lit outdoor work, it's much better, and the colour saturations are especially pleasing. Efforts to put back the original four-track stereo have been well worth it, and its conversion to DTS-HD MA 5.1 is largely successful. It isn't quite up to the crystal clear sound we've now come to expect, and this shows in the use of stock audio for effects sequences, but it's more than serviceable for the most part. Dialogue is exclusively locked to the centre channel, and because of that, you can always hear what people are saying irrespective of whatever else is occurring.

However, this is the 50th anniversary special edition, so just how special is it? Well, that entirely depends on whether you own the 2007 collector's edition on DVD. If you don't, as I didn't, then this is a complete treasure trove of period and more modern featurettes covering every aspect of the movie, its production and stars.

If you do already own it, then sadly, there’s only one new supplement, entitled The Resistance Dossier Of Navarone. This beautifully presented collection consists of mini-featurettes explaining that, while the events portrayed in the movie are fictional, the real war in the Greek islands provided plenty of inspiration, as did the real wartime exploits of those playing the characters.

If you love war movies from this period, as I do, then the money they're asking for this is an absolute bargain. Not only does it bring you some of the best actors of the period, but also a hugely enjoyable romp with strikingly modern overtones.

To paraphrase a classic line from Peck's character, if you don't go out and buy it, I'll shoot you myself.

Film:
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The Guns Of Navarone is out on Blu-ray on 24th October.

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When Samuel, a trainee nurse (Gilles Lelouche), saves the life of a patient (Roschdy Zem), who was subjected to an attempted assassination whilst in intensive care, his life is soon thrown into disarray. His heavily pregnant wife is kidnapped, and he is ordered to remove the patient from the hospital and bring him to his wife’s captors.

Matters are complicated further when the patient is identified as Hugo Sartet, a criminal wanted for the assassination of a high profile politician, meaning that the first hurdle is to remove Sartet from the hospital where he’s under armed guard from the police. Once that hurdle has been cleared, Samuel and Sartet are pursued by the formidable Commandant Werner (Gerard Lanvin). Samuel has to ensure the safe delivery of Sartet so that his wife isn’t killed, whilst trying to keep his name clear. Which is far from an easy task as the situation quickly gets out of control.

A large part of why the film works as well as it does is down to Gilles Lelouche’s performance as Samuel. The quality of the action scenes aside, a large part of the film’s success relies on Lelouche’s performance. He brings a believability to the everyman on the edge pushed to extremes, and makes Samuel a character that’s easy to relate to, whose actions are always understandable even as his situation spirals further out of control.

The pace is relentless, and some of the action scenes are quite breathtaking. Tthere were a number of moments throughout the film that really took me by surprise, even despite the rather typical set-up that isn’t a million miles away from a traditional Hollywood thriller. or indeed Cavaye’s previous film Anything for Her (which had the Hollywood treatment earlier this year with The Next Three Days). It wouldn’t be surprising if Point Blank was also subject to a remake at some point in the not too distant future, given the success of a number of films of this type in recent years.

The only real complaints I have with the film are that aside from Lelouche and Zem’s characters, the rest of the film is inhabited with one-dimensional characters whose intentions will be clear from the outset, to even the casual viewer. I do appreciate that a reliance on archetypal characters is far from unusual with this type of fare, but some of the characters were a little too simplistic for my tastes.

Another minor issue I had with the film, was the fact that a movie that carries such a frenetic pace throughout, seems to peter out at the end. It seems to be screaming out for an end that has a similar impact to the opening. Instead there’s a rather unnecessary epilogue that’s a little too tidy and seems out of sorts with the rest of the film.

Minor issues aside though Point Blank is a lean, tightly paced action thriller with an incredible sense of momentum, where the stakes and tension levels are high. Sure, some of the characters are one-dimensional and some of the plot developments are a little contrived. But there’s rarely a dull moment throughout its short runtime.

The Disc

The video transfer is presented in 1080i so sadly not full HD. For the most part the film handles dark shades well enough so that you’re able to distinguish exactly what’s going on even in the highest tempo action scenes. There are times where grain makes an appearance and other visual flaws are quite noticeable.

Extras are thin on the ground, with the photo gallery and theatrical trailer being fairly standard fare that will only be of passing interest to most. What is well worth a look is the excellent making-of documentary, which clocks in at 50 minutes and shows that the shoot was as frenetic as the film itself, with cast and crew often being put in dangerous situations to add to the realistic nature of the film. Cavaye and all of the cast crew seem incredibly enthusiastic about the film and it’s great to see the techniques employed to get certain shots.

It’s pointed out that French films have significantly lower budgets than English language features, so the challenge is to make something that rivals big budget action thrillers from America and they certainly achieved that here. This making-of is one of the best I’ve seen for quite some time and should be seen by all aspiring action film directors.

Whilst the Blu-Ray transfer offers little reason for the upgrade, Point Blank is still a film well worth seeing, whether you rent it or pick up the DVD or Blu-ray. One of the joys of reviewing films is coming across something that wasn’t on your radar and being blown away by it, and that was certainly the case here.

The Film: 
The Disc: 

You can buy Point Blank, here.

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