Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb

Year: 1964
Running time: 95 minutes
Certificate: PG
Language: English
Screenplay: Stanley Kubrick, Terry Southern, Peter George
Director: Stanley Kubrick
Starring: Peter Sellers, George C. Scott, Sterling Hayden, Slim Pickens, Keenan Wynn, Tracy Reed

The sinister Strangelove considers Armageddon.

Kubrick's dark satire about automatic nuclear deterrents that are so inflexible that when they are kicked off in error they cannot be stopped has perhaps a little less power to terrify in a largely post-Cold War age, but the nature of the satire in regards to humans and governments and how they (don't) work is as chillingly relevant today as it ever was, if not more so.

Jack D. Ripper (Sterling Hayden) is a Brigadier General stationed at Burpelson Air Force Base. He is also certifiable. He believes fluoride in the water is a Communist plot to 'sap and impurify' his and others' 'precious bodily fluids' (yes, the fluoride conspiracy has been around for a long, long time, and still exists today, as the stranger corners of the internet (and Facebook) can attest to). Apparently frustrated by his impotence (presumably due to the Communist fluoride plot), he arranges for a pre-emptive nuclear strike to be launched against Russia. Shutting all communications down and locking himself away, only he knows the code to stop the attack. The only other person that might know is Lionel Mandrake (Peter Sellers), an RAF Group Captain locked in with Ripper.

In the War Room (possibly the most iconic film set ever built), those supposedly in charge including General Buck Turgidson (George C. Scott) and President Merkin Muffley (Sellers, again) frantically discuss a way of averting the catastrophe, only for the grim reality to be revealed bit by bit. The grim reality being only the unreachable Ripper is able to recall the plane and the Russian automatic 'doomsday' response will launch all Russian nukes in retaliation, initiating that old chestnut, 'mutually assured destruction'.

Also in the War Room is ex-Nazi scientific and strategic advisor Dr. Strangelove (Sellers, a third time), a comic yet sinister character that seems to have an unruly black-gloved hand that attempts Nazi salutes and occasionally will try to strangle Strangelove.

Major 'King' Kong (Slim Pickens) yee-haws his way to the world's end.

The film is full of funny yet-disturbing comedy, including the physical comedy of Scott as General Turgidson, miming a plane flying under Russian radar, demonstrating how nobody will be able to shoot it down, despite knowing its course, and evergreen puns ("Gentlemen, you can't fight in here; this is the War Room!"). Sellers is on impeccable form in all three roles, and the telephone conversation between his image obsessed President Muffley and the Russian Government is an absolute masterclass in comedic acting, degenerating in to an argument over who is the most sorry. If a President arguing over inanities trying to save face while the whole world falls apart around him seems a little close to the bone at the moment, then try to remember the whole laughter mingled with terror reaction was exactly what Kubrick and Sellers appear to have been aiming for.

The ending is also still relevant today in that these Governments and leaders being all men make decisions based not on information and careful consideration, but instead using their gut, or their dick. The unpleasant Strangelove floats the suggestion of heading to bunkers deep underground to keep a microcosm of humanity left alive (i.e. them) until it's safe again to come up to the surface. What really gets everyone onboard is the suggestion that every man will be sent down with his own little harem of 10 women, selected specifically for their sexual attractiveness (to keep the species alive, obviously). To see a room full of powerful men literally give up the rest of their species for dead because they'll be able to spend the rest of their lives fucking 10 sexy women as much as possible is unpalatable and yet uncomfortably plausible.

Simply among the very best comedies ever made.

Score: 9/10

Dr. Strangelove is rightly held up as an example of one of Kubrick's best, which makes it one of anybody's best - reviews from Roger Ebert and Chris at The Movie Buff help to confirm as much.

Leon

Year: 1994
Running time: 110 minutes
Certificate: 18
Language: English
Screenplay: Luc Besson
Director: Luc Besson
Starring: Jean Reno, Natalie Portman, Gary Oldman, Danny Aiello

Quite possibly the high point in the careers of both Jean Reno and director Luc Besson, Leon is a rather intoxicating blend of striking action and character work.

Mathilda learns Leon's trade.

Leon (Reno) is a professional assassin in New York, a 'cleaner', effortlessly killing according to the contracts he is given. The opening is tense, violent and virtuoso. When a group of corrupt DEA agents, led by Stansfield (the gloriously over the top Gary Oldman, chewing up all the scenery in sight), ruthlessly murder a family living in the same apartment block as Leon, the 12 year-old daughter of the family, Mathilda (Natalie Portman, assured and incredible even in her screen debut) is spared by virtue of being out of the home when it happened. She returns to see the aftermath, the killers still there, so thinking on her feet, continues walking past ruined apartment containing the corpses of her family and knocks on a random door, hoping the person on the other side will save her by opening the door and letting her in. That person happens to be Leon, assassin extraordinaire, and while you can tell he knows it is probably a mistake, he can't leave Mathilda out there, begging to come in; especially as the DEA agents are getting a little suspicious. So he lets her in, saving her life.

One of the most unusual friendships in cinema starts to build from there. At Mathilda's insistence, Leon trains her to become an assassin. There isn't a whole lot left for her in life, so he agrees. In return, she teaches him to read, and the two of them build a bond that is familial and also has uncomfortable sexual undertones. The relationship is not sexual, but Mathilda, hero-worshipping the man who saved her life, sometimes indicates to others that their relationship might be more than platonic, naively not recognising the very series trouble this could cause for Leon. There is also an uncomfortable scene (for Leon as well as the audience), where Mathilda dresses up as Marylin Monroe for him, causing him to choke on his milk in shock. As uncomfortable as it is, what it does is stress the naivety and innocence of Mathilda all the more; it seems to me that she simply recognises that having saved her life, she is in his debt and wants to find a way of expressing her gratitude, not realising that teaching him to read and helping to humanise him is saving his life every bit as much. Mostly though, it's two lonely humans finding companionship and friendship in each other.

Stansfield on the rampage.

The film does a striking job of mixing this character-focused storytelling with explosively framed action set-pieces. Scores of men with automatic rifles descend on their apartment for the finale, and here Leon shows just how deadly he is, appearing out of nowhere from nooks, crannies and ceilings to eliminate all comers.

It ends the only way it ever really could, with Leon giving his life to give Mathilda the chance to start a new one on a different path, and although bittersweet, it brings a satisfying sense of both closure and potential new beginnings.

A '90s highlight.

Score: 8/10

Everybody loves Leon - two reviews from Christopher at The Independent and Mark at Empire.

The Jungle Book

Year: 1967 (original), 2016 (remake)
Running time: 78 minutes (original), 106 minutes (remake)
Certificate: U (original), PG (remake)
Language: English
Screenplay: Larry Clemmons, Ralph Wright, Ken Anderson, Vance Gerry (original), Justin Marks (remake)
Director: Wolfgang Reitherman (original), Jon Favreau (remake)
Starring: Neel Sethi
Starring (voices): Bruce Reitherman, Phil Harris, Sebastian Cabot, George Sanders, Sterling Holloway, Louis Prima, J. Pat O'Malley, Bill Murray, Ben Kingsley, Idris Elba, Scarlett Johansson, Christopher Walken, Lupita Nyong'o, Giancarlo Esposito

Chilling with Baloo, 1967.

It seems The Jungle Book, an animated adaptation of a series of stories by Rudyard Kipling, was the last project that Walt Disney himself personally oversaw before his death (although I understand he did give a green light for the follow-up production, The Aristocats), and boy, what a swansong.

The animation is gorgeous and fluid, and pops off the screen throughout (there are some that dislike this technique of making the foreground action stand out so distinctly from the background art, but it works for me). It's jam-packed full of larger-than-life characters. Mowgli (Bruce Reitherman) is a young human, dubbed 'man cub' by the creatures around him, living in the jungle being raised by wolves under the caring eyes of the panther Bagheera (Sebastian Cabot). It transpires that the terrifying tiger Shere Khan (George Sanders, giving the villain a deliciously evil upper class feel) wants young Mowgli dead and so a desperate attempt is made to get him to a human settlement and back to his own.

Mowgli stands his ground against the dangerous Shere Khan.

It's on this road-trip through the jungle that the film takes flight and we are treated to one glorious set-piece after another; meeting characters as synonymous with the Disney name as Snow White herself (this of course, while testament to the stand out quality of the artistry on show in this and many other Disney movies, could be considered somewhat troubling as The Jungle Book, like many other Disney adaptations, runs the risk of overshadowing the original stories, folk and fairy tales they're based on).

With the introduction of each new character we're also treated to pretty much the best music of any Disney Classic. The showstoppers are brilliant – The Bear Necessities and I Wanna be like You are truly timeless, but the less well-known songs are also great – Trust in Me in particular. I also have a bit of a soft spot for the Beatles-esque vultures, who instead of sounding like The Beatles were a barbershop quartet. I read once that they were originally planned to sound like the fab four as well, but Walt thought the band were a flash in the pan and a barbershop quartet would be more timeless – guess you can’t get it right all the time.

A true classic.

Bagheera: Mowgli's noble protector and friend. Who can be a little grouchy.

In 2016 The Jungle Book received the now established live-action (obviously, considering the nature of most Disney material, 'live action' means mostly CGI) remake treatment at the hands of Jon Favreau. An adaptation that was so successful Disney later entrusted Favreau with arguably their most treasured property, The Lion King. Some Disney remakes have fared better than others. Cinderella, for one example. Remaking its classic back catalogue seems like Disney just asking for trouble, but so far it's not been the complete disaster it seems like it should be on paper, and The Jungle Book is a case in point.

Chilling with Baloo, 2016.

It was certainly risky recasting such iconic characterisations, but some utterly inspired casting meant this risk was pretty easily mitigated. There are really three characters that are more iconic than the others. I've already mentioned George Sanders as Shere Khan, but Phil Harris and Louis Prima as Baloo and King Louie are genuinely unforgettable in the 1967 original. When considering who might be right for the roles in the remake, it's pretty much impossible to think of anyone being better choices than Bill Murray and Chistopher Walken. It seems increasingly clear that Idris Elba has the range to play, literally, anything, and his Shere Khan is bristling with menace. Also notable is Scarlett Johansson as a very creepy Kaa, and Neel Sethi does an ok job as Mowgli with a difficult task of being the only human acting in a world of CGI (which is genuinely astonishingly well done).

The climactic battle with Shere Khan set against a backdrop of the burning jungle is a masterclass in creating convincing action with seamless CGI wizardry. It's difficult to overstate just how well the visuals manage to lift the film up.

It's not as memorable as the original, but Favreau made a decent fist of it (better than he made of The Lion King in the end), and along with Beauty and the Beast, is probably one of Disney's better remakes - one that, if you squint, you can almost see a point of making beyond mere profit.

A half-decent live-action remake of a true classic.

Score:
The Jungle Book (1967): 9/10
The Jungle Book (2016): 7/10

Both of these versions of Disney's adaptation are well thought of (the remake significantly more so than I was expecting), based on this review of the original from J P Roscoe at Basement Rejects and this one of the remake from Simon at Flickering Myth.

Nymphomaniac

Year: 2013 (Vol. I, Vol. II)
Running time: 117 minutes (Vol. I), 124 minutes (Vol. II)
Certificate: 18 (Vol. I, Vol. II)
Language: English
Screenplay: Lars von Trier
Director: Lars von Trier
Starring: Charlotte Gainsbourg, Stellan Skarsgård, Stacy Martin, Shia LaBeouf, Christian Slater, Uma Thurman, Connie Nielson, Sophie Kennedy Clark, Jamie Bell, Willem Dafoe, Mia Goth, Michael Pas

On another sexual escapade.

Nymphomaniac is not a sexy film. It is a rather joyless examination of the life of a woman in thrall to her biological impulses. Joe (Charlotte Gainsbourg) is found bruised and bleeding in an alley by Seligman (Stellan Skarsgård). When she convinces him not to call an ambulance or the police, he helps her back to his nearby apartment to clean up and recover a little. This is the setting over which Joe tells Seligman (and by extension, us) her life story and how it has been influenced by a condition she refuses to describe as sex addiction, insisting instead on the term nymphomania.

There are many sexual encounters described by Joe (played as a young woman by Stacy Martin), many of them seemingly designed to shock, as you might expect from von Trier. Sex in Joe's world rarely seems to be a thing that brings a great deal of pleasure, be it a difficult encounter losing her virginity to Jerôme (Shia LaBeouf), through a moment tempting a man on a train trying to get back home to his wife to conceive, to having sex while grieving her dead father (Christian Slater).

Slowly becoming friends.

But I don't think we're meant to pity Joe; she takes power from her sexuality and if she appears to lack empathy at times (particularly during one scene where she is confronted with the wrath of Mrs. H (Uma Thurman), who's husband is cheating on her with Joe), it's worth remembering that every single one of the men have a choice to have sex with Joe or not, so it's difficult to really judge her for the shits she does not give.

We return fairly frequently to Joe and Seligman, and Seligman has a habit of interrupting the narrative to bring up some random subject that he thinks has familiarities to the events happening in Joe's life. This can be frustrating for Joe and sometimes for us, because (and I'm assuming it's intended this way by von Trier) for every meaningful insight he puts forth, there is another that is ludicrous, and Joe and Seligman spend some time debating the merits of his various asides. As stupid as his rambling sometimes is, you do get a feeling the two of them are taking tentative steps from being strangers to friends.

As we move from Vol. I to Vol. II Joe's life story continues and Gainsbourg takes on both the narrator and flashback roles. Joe's life goes to some very difficult places through the second half, not least an extended period of sadomasochism with K (or 'the Master') (Jamie Bell). Joe ends up working for L (Willem Dafoe), a businessman employing Joe to collect unpaid debts, using her knowledge and experience of sex and desire to expose unpleasant tendencies those owing money have, leaving them open to blackmail.

Joe offers no apology for who she is. Nor should she.

Eventually we catch up to where we found Joe at the start, and it turns out she's beaten in that alley thanks to Jerôme (the older version of which is played by Michael Pas), following a failed attempt to shoot him (Seligman points out it's because she hadn't set the gun correctly before shooting).

The ending annoys me intensely. After their long discussion, Joe seems to have genuinely found friendship - a human connection that isn't about sex. If fact, Seligman has confirmed all the way through that he just isn't sexual in nature. So when Joe goes to sleep happy, for what we suspect is the first time in a long time, it is distressing in the extreme to find Seligman waking her up in the middle of the night to have sex. I was hungry for Joe to feel the contentment that can come from positive human interaction, and out of the blue, contrary to everything he'd said, he ruined it.

Joe indulges herself.

Joe may be a nymphomaniac, but that still gives nobody the right to assume they can have sex with her. Seligman's confused "But you've fucked thousands of men" as Joe, heartbroken over losing her new friend as quickly as she had gained him, calmly and sadly sets the gun as he had demonstrated not long before and shoots him, gives voice to the assumptions of men everywhere that promiscuity somehow forfeits a woman's right to say no.

It's not unrealistic, and the point it makes (men, almost always, are pigs) is an overwhelmingly valid one, but god damn it, I just wanted Joe to find a little happiness with her new friend.

Not bad films, and Gainsbourg, Slater and Thurman in particular give standout performances, but I don't have an interest in ever seeing them again.

Score:
Nymphomaniac Vol. I: 6/10
Nymphomaniac Vol. II: 5/10

I find myself in the minority, as others seem to hold the films in high regard, judging by these reviews from Geoffrey at The Independent and Peter at The Guardian (although to be honest I often find myself at odds with Peter Bradshaw).

Minority Report

Year: 2002
Running time: 145 minutes
Certificate: 15
Language: English
Screenplay: Scott Frank, Jon Cohen
Director: Steven Spielberg
Starring: Tom Cruise, Samantha Morton, Colin Farrell, Max von Sydow, Steve Harris, Neal McDonough, Daniel London, Lois Smith, Tim Blake Nelson, Peter Stormare, Mike Binder, Arye Gross, Ashley Crow

Along with A.I. Artificial Intelligence and Catch Me If You Can, Minority Report kicked off Steven Spielberg's later career. Watching any of these three, but this one in particular, you get the feeling that, having proved himself one of the masters of cinema alongside Kurosawa, Coppola and Scorsese (Schindler's List, Saving Private Ryan) and also a master of popcorn event cinema up there with Cameron, Lucas and Jackson (Jaws, Indiana Jones), he's now having a little more fun, legacy forever secured. As a result, Minority Report feels fresh even though Spielberg is no stranger to science fiction, blending the cinematic maestro Spielberg with the blockbusting crowd-pleaser version.

Anderton at work.

Thanks to the psychic gifts of three precognitive humans ('precogs'), led by Agatha (Samantha Morton), who have the ability to foresee murder, John Anderton (Tom Cruise) heads up Washington D.C.'s precrime division, arresting people for murder before the murder has actually taken place. The success of precrime is obvious, with the state being murder-free since the division was established. Pre-determined murder is non-existent, with only sudden 'crimes of passion' giving Anderton and co any work to do.

In a bravura early set-piece the workings of precrime are established; the pre-cogs 'see' the murder and these visions are projected onto a screen from their minds and captured for the precrime team to work with. The names of the perpetrator and victim are also given. Using innovative touch-screen tech that looked futuristic back in 2002, but certainly not too far outside the realms of possibility nowadays, Anderton searches through the images for clues as to the means, method and location of the murder. Once they find enough clues to establish what's going to happen and where, they rush to the scene to arrest the person before they commit the crime, for 'future murder'.

Emboldened by the success, director of precrime Lamar Burgess (Max von Sydow) is pushing to extend the division beyond Washington D.C., taking it 'national'. This has triggered an investigation into the suitability of precrime by the Justice Department, headed by Danny Witwer (Colin Farrell). There is plenty of scope for moral complexity with this set up (the film is inspired, as so much great science fiction is, by a story by Philip K. Dick), and that's before we even fill in some of Anderton's back story.

Anderton is a grieving father, his young son abducted from a busy public swimming pool leading to the collapse of his marriage and Anderton becoming dependent on drugs to get through the day, while at night he re-watches home videos of his wife and son over and over. When Witwer agrees the system works perfectly and the flaw is human, this is precisely what he means.

Two things happen to bring Anderton's world crashing down around him; firstly, Witwer discovers his drug habit, but secondly, and more crucially, the latest murder seen by the precogs shows Anderton himself murdering a man named Leo Crow (Mike Binder). Anderton has no choice but to run ("Everybody runs", goes the repeated refrain) and find a way prove his innocence in the light of the damning evidence that has been used by the precrime team to catch and convict so many others.

On the run for a murder he's not (yet) committed.

Minority Report is a blend of sci-fi actioner and noir thriller, as slowly Anderton and Witwer uncover a conspiracy involving the fallibility of the precogs' visions and murder to silence a grieving mother. It's wonderful stuff; Spielberg blends the two styles beautifully, investing in character, story and weaving the mystery around the astoundingly-staged action, the visuals, while incredible, always in service to the story and plot, building the future D.C. around the events onscreen.

Music and camerawork complement each other perfectly, particularly around a nail biting sequence involving little robotic spiders scanning eyes to ID everyone in a building, the camera moving over the top of the action in a scene that feels downright European in it's construction, in spite of the American-ness of everything else. One of the best things Spielberg ever did was team up with the extraordinary cinematographer Janusz Kaminski, and the blue-tinged, slightly washed-out look of the future of Minority Report is incredibly effective, giving the film a look that is unique to it.

The bravura set pieces and extraordinary look of the film sit alongside a Maltese Falcon-type layered, noir-ish story that is faultlessly executed and satisfyingly told.

Score: 8/10

I had assumed I'd overrated Minority Report when looking at other reviews (I sometimes seem to score Spielberg higher than others), but it seems I'm right on the money when considering these reviews from Roger Ebert and Kirk at The Hollywood Reporter.

Changeling

Year: 2008
Running time: 141 minutes
Certificate: 15
Language: English
Screenplay: J. Michael Straczynski
Director: Clint Eastwood
Starring: Angelina Jolie, Gattlin Griffith, John Malkovich, Jason Butler Harner

Christine tries desperately to get the help she needs.

Changeling seemed like a pretty big deal when it was released in 2008. As a director, Clint Eastwood can range from competent-yet-uninspiring (American Sniper, Sully), to astonishing (Unforgiven, Million Dollar Baby) and Changeling appeared to be an example of the latter, but in the decade and change since, it isn't usually remembered as one of his best. There was a buzz about it and it got a decent critical reception (Empire has been known to give away its five-star 'Unmissable' rating a little too easily sometimes, and while not quite an Attack of the Clones five-star misstep, the review of Changeling did overrate it a tad).

Christine Collins (Angelina Jolie, shining brighter than everyone, as usual) is a single mother in 1928 L.A. She comes home from work one day to find her 9 year-old son Walter (Gattlin Griffith) missing. She goes to the police for help, and the search begins. After five months, the LAPD claim Walter has been found, and mother and son are reunited publicly, the police taking every opportunity they can for some positive publicity. The only problem is, Christine can see, clearly, that the boy they've brought to her isn't her son. Eager to maintain the positive boost to their reputation, the LAPD flat-out shut her down, telling her that it definitely is her son.

Christine has her nagging doubts and worst fears confirmed.

Nowhere to turn to, Christine finds her way to Reverend Gustav Briegleb (John Malcovich), a preacher well aware of the corruption running through the core of the police department. He takes up Christine's cause as his own, and standing up to the authorities when they commit her to a mental asylum to get her out of the way.

Part of the film also follows a discovery at a dilapidated farmstead, where a horrific tale offers a clue to the true whereabouts of Walter.

The film takes in several genres, moving smoothly from a missing persons drama, to noir, through horror to a courtroom drama. The characters are generally quite one-dimensional, so I think this changing of genre makes little difference to them; perhaps if there was more complexity to them, it would be more jarring. It's a competently told story, based on true events, and Jolie is magnificent, but the no-frills, somewhat pedestrian film-making makes it much less memorable than it might have been.

Score: 6/10

Reviews out there certainly covered a number of varied opinions; not only was there the 5-star Empire review, but there is also this review from Dana at Slate, who was about as impressed as I was, and this one from Christopher at The New Republic, and he declared it the worst film of the year, which I though was a bit over the top.

Face/Off

Year: 1997
Running time: 138 minutes
Certificate: 18
Language: English
Screenplay: Mike Werb, Michael Colleary
Director: John Woo
Starring: John Travolta, Nicholas Cage, Joan Allen, Alessandro Nivola, Gina Gershon, Dominique Swain, Nick Cassavetes

Sean Archer as Caster Troy: Still not having any fun.

This is it, dear readers. The lunatic pinnacle the ridiculous '90s action craze. The highest of concepts, the most ridiculous of stories. The most overblown performances. And some of the most scorching action visuals ever committed to film. The recent announcement that a remake is in the works is nonsensical. How can this ludicrous perfection ever be improved? Surely it's tantamount to blasphemy to even consider it? The two movies of the time that came closest to matching Face/Off for insanity were probably Con Air and Starship Troopers. I love them both, but Face/Off towers above them with ease.

John Woo is up there as one of the best directors of action we've ever had, but prior to Face/Off his output while in America hadn't measured up to the best of the films he had made before moving to the US. For Face/Off, everything finally came together.

Caster Troy (Nicholas Cage) is a Villain. Capital V. Hell, the whole word should be upper case. Murder, terrorism, drugs, Caster is just living his best evil life. A thorn in his side however, is super-serious cop Sean Archer (John Travolta). Since Troy accidentally killed his young son Michael (Myles Jeffrey), Archer has had a singular mission to obsess over: take down Caster Troy. In an astonishing opening set piece most films would save for the climax, Archer and his team finally take down Troy, landing him in a coma and capturing his brother Pollux  (Alessandro Nivola).

You'd think Archer would feel like celebrating, a least a little, after that wouldn't you? But no, when his colleagues give him a round of applause, he snaps at them, because of course catching Troy was never going to bring back his son, and he feels just as shitty about it as he ever did.

The problem is, before he went to sleep, naughty Caster planted a giant bomb, and nobody knows where, except Caster and Pollux. So naturally, the go to move here is to use plastic surgery to alter Archer into Troy and then swapping their faces. Not in some clever Mission Impossible mask kind of way, but by actually swapping faces. Then dump Archer into the most maximum of maximum security prisons to pose as Caster to find the location of the bomb from Pollux.

Typically understated moment of action.

This is, obviously, bonkers. But, watching Cage pretending to be Travolta's character pretending to be Cage's character in that full-on bug-eyed way that only Cage can do, you very quickly come to the realisation that it is actually a stroke of genius. And then it gets ever more ridiculous, because having his face cut off caused Troy to wake up from his coma, and he proceeds to force the orchestrators of this plan to alter his body and give him Archer's face. And then murders everybody that knows about it and destroys all the evidence.

Having taken over Archer's life, the scene in the prison when Cage playing Archer playing Troy sees Travolta playing Troy playing Archer for the first time is so much fun. The fact that it is played completely straight just makes it even better. Left to rot in prison as Caster Troy, Archer has an uphill struggle to escape and reclaim his life back from his nemesis. The rest of Face/Off is the story of how he goes about this, and it's every bit as over-the-top and bombastic as you could wish for: The prison escape turns everything up to 11. A shoot out with the police during which the gangsters are desperately trying to protect a young boy named Adam (David McCurley) which turns out to be Caster's son. There is some masterful framing at work, as Woo puts young Adam standing on some lights in the floor, listening to Somewhere Over the Rainbow on headphones while all hell breaks loose around him. The Woo signature of doves is present and correct, heralding the final showdown in a beautifully atmospheric church. Even the obvious use of stunt doubles in the crash at the end of the climactic speedboat chase doesn't spoil it too much (you read that right: Face/Off ends in a speedboat chase, because of course it does).

It's overblown, it's ridiculous, sometimes it's just plain weird (there is much face stroking going on for some reason), but, somehow, against all the odds, Face/Off works.

Score: 8/10

The brilliance and ridiculousness of Face/Off is not lost on others, as seen in these reviews by Tom at the A.V. Club and Benoit at Dead End Follies.