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.