Reviews

Essentially playing like an episode of the show but stretched out to feature length, Konosuba Legend of Crimson offers an explosion of laughs, colour and all-around fun for fans both new and old. It definitely feels like the franchise has not lost any of the pep in its step, there's a fine balance between treating its characters with disrespect and love and it's something you can only experience with this franchise. Because the film has such a deep love for its characters, it has no problem making them as ridiculous as possible for a good laugh. The characters move with impressive fluidity and, because there's an inherent sense of ridiculousness throughout, the film has no problem contorting the faces and the bodies of its characters to better punctuate a gag with fun visuals. This also extends to its fight scenes, which also expand their scope to a feature film level with the colourful personality befitting the franchise. Due to the nature of it being a feature film without the restrictions of its usual television constraints, there are a few jokes that seem like they go a bit too far, but they by no means ruin the experience. The rhythmic nature of how the dialogue flows from one comedic situation to another keeps things moving at a constantly entertaining pace. It does just feel like you're hanging out with old friends again. Legend of Crimson is an all-too-appropriate explosion of all-around fun with pure laughs and ridiculous situations, it doesn't aim too high, but it's still a celebration of everything that makes this anime fantasy such a treat, a victory lap for the franchise that's also teasing a future burning quite bright, I wish I'd taken my chance to see this in the cinema when it came out.

A rare cinematic exploration of the messy, difficult aftermath of evaluating culpability, not only for the Nazi masterminds but also for innumerable officials and functionaries. Few 3-hour long court dramas are as compelling and thrilling as Judgement at Nuremberg. A film about injustice and war while portraying hopelessness and double standards, serious and humanist, powerful for its subtle and shaded characterisations of both victim and victimiser. With the most painful pages of modern history as its bitter basis, Abby Mann's intelligent screenplay is a grim reminder of man's responsibility to denounce grave evils of which he is aware. The lesson is carefully, tastefully and upliftingly told via Kramer's large-scale production and faultless, fluid direction. The powerhouse performances from its central cast are incredible with the film's lack of music contributing to the engrossing and absorbing atmosphere, letting the script and performances speak for themselves. In the grand tradition of courtroom dramas, Judgment at Nuremberg has the distinction of being probably the most important of them all; one with a stirring, sobering message and asking the biggest questions that can be asked, that remain no less fresh and thrilling even when being thousands of years old.

A painstaking and dramatic reconstruction of two decisive naval battles from the early days of the First World War, The Battles of Coronel and Falkland Islands boasts plenty of impressive production values for its time, revelling in the power and beauty of the machine. There are echoes of Eisenstein's Battleship Potemkin and Gance's La Roue sprinkled throughout Walter Summer's direction, often counterbalanced by his documentary-like approach to the material, yet the flairs of a distinctly British touch linger. Not so much propagandist, more patriotic. A touch that utilises all the cinematic techniques available to Summer at the time, some of the film's most striking moments are the montage sequences of the mechanical workings of the ships and shipyards - the inferno of the engine rooms, pumping pistons and dramatically mounting pressure gauges. With meticulous naval and military detail, the script is pared down and well-structured to build dramatic tension in what is essentially a documentary with necessarily dramatised sections. Accompanied by Simon Dobson's contemporary and rousing militaristic score, The Battles of Coronel and Falkland Islands is a hidden gem of British silent cinema, elaborate realism that reveals in the beauty of the form, scale and movement of its subject matter yet never to the point of jingoism or exploitation.

It feels like sacrilege that I haven't seen this until today, a full week before I go to Poland, it's a film I've always owed myself to watch at least once in my life... Where does one even begin with Schindler's List? It sees Spielberg at his most personal and altruistic, not only a masterpiece but something of a miracle, a film of immense power and the deepest sincerity. Using every ounce of his awesome technical skill, the man who sent the T. Rex and Indiana Jones racing through our imagination brings us a story of human horror beyond that imagination, employing all the emotive Hollywood tools at his disposal, a remarkable and moving memorial to a historical Holocaust coming at a time when survivors were dying of old age and testimony was at risk of being lost. Not just in bringing a terrible chapter in history back to life, but in meticulously depicting the processes through which a self-obsessed and immature man becomes integrated and responsible.

How does one comprehend the magnitude of the Holocaust? What compels someone to commit such barbaric acts of evil? Remarkably, Spielberg defines the horror of Hitler's final solution in vividly human terms without diminishing its scope or impact. Genuinely upsetting without ever feeling exploitive. It's a film of remarkable visual splendor, documentary like with its incredible black & white photography with an unparalleled sense of audacity and directness. Neeson is phenomenal, matched by towering performances from Ben Kingsley and Ralph Fiennes while John Williams delivers a hauntingly evocative score. Steven Spielberg's heartfelt, monumental Schindler's List insinuates itself so deeply into your consciousness that it offers not vicarious experience but instead, a direct one, a harrowing indictment of cruelty and a heartfelt testament to courage, this is his magnum opus and one I'm kicking myself for not watching sooner.

Silent films really do hit differently... Powerful even in its incomplete form, about 7 hours worth of material is missing, Erich von Stroheim's Greed is a spoil of cinematic riches and a harrowing dissertation on the corrupting allure of money. Even now its relentlessly cynical portrait of physical and moral squalor retains the ability to shock, while Stroheim's obsessive attention to realist detail is never mundane; delving into deep the human soul, bringing out the worst, but also the best, of people. Von Stroheim conveys a fierce realism to the production process with his usual megalomaniacal personality, especially during the film's climax; shot in Death Valley, in 51°C heat, for months on end, resulted in most of the production becoming ill and even one member of the crew dying! It's a film that utilises extensive location shooting, deep-focus cinematography and use of extreme close-ups, all of which feel incredibly ahead of its time. While we may never see Greed as von Stroheim intended, the film remains an incredible feat for not only the silent period but in the history of cinema as a whole.

Suffused with a sense of twilight melancholy and pre-millennial nostalgia, John Frankenheimer's end-of-career genre masterwork Ronin is an unapologetic old-fashioned caper playing as the perfect reaction to a formally ubiquitous genre, the Cold War-era espionage Euro-thriller. The film savours a haunting final gasp just prior to being downsized by 21st-century Bourne-driven techno-overload and an onslaught of bloodless PG-13 CGI spectacles. It shows the talent of Frankenheimer that he manages to take what is essentially a rather one-note often contrived story and turn it into something truly special, approaching the material with seriousness, commitment and professionalism. Lean, sleek, spare, almost minimalist; it's like watching the revival of a forgotten art form. The fact that it's done with a minimum of special effects makes it all the more stirring, a tribute to the film's earnestness that we can overlook most of its absurdities and simply revel in its deeds. Elevated by its talent in front and behind the camera, the winning combination of Robert De Niro and Jean Reno imbues the film with a likeable brothers-in-arms chemistry that sees the duo at the peak of their prowess; while Robert Fraisse's photography and Elia Cmiral's score construct a believable and lived-in atmosphere of hyperrealism. Carried by a style that's fast, furious and impeccably paced, at the time of release, Ronin might have seemed like an efficient vehicle, nowadays it's more akin to a classic car, one with exceptional class you won't find in most automobiles today.

Taking the final act of The Road Warrior and stretching it out for an entire film was a stroke of mad genius by George Miller but Fury Road pays off in heeps. With more fire and brimstone, extravagantly deranged, ear-splittingly cacophonous, and entirely over-the-top; the definition of a wholly unapologetically action-packed film that mixes the old and the new. Although it's cold, violent and visceral you can also feel the underlying elements of hope, loyalty, reverence and redemption and it's one that Miller carries with exceptional prowess. With its wall-to-wall high-octane action, insane practical stunts and highly stylised production, everything about the film just works, from its highly decorated cast to its pulse-pounding (if overly repetitive) score and controlled chaos. It's an amazing, full-tilt assault on the senses and one of the most brilliant pieces of mayhem to ever hit the screen. Like an insane 80's B-movie, but one made with thought, effort, and enough of a budget to match its deranged aspirations.

Coming at a time when Miller was grieving the loss of his best friend and producing partner, Beyond Thunderdome veers sharply into mainstream-friendly, Lord of the Flies-like territory and tends to get a bad rap among fans. Often unfocused, not quite living up to the pace and power of its predecessors, but the more varied visual style, more substantial storyline and characterisations, are a welcome, if not wholly successful, change in emphasis. George Ogilvie co-directs not wishing to let Miller succumb to his grief alone, on the whole looks fantastic with plenty of varied environments and set pieces, Miller's use of suspense is still effective, the brawl in the titular Thunderdome is fantastic and the climactic railroad chase at the conclusion handsomely echoes the other outrageous stunts of the trilogy. Unfortunately, the film kinda flounders between these otherwise great moments with a lot of unnecessary pit-stops, but I do appreciate what the film is trying to do, deepen Max's character while fleshing out the wasteland around him. Gibson delivers another great performance as Max but the show is stolen by Tina Turner's role as Aunty, one she relishes in. Sadly, Maurice Jarre's score doesn't do a whole lot for me, I feel like it should have been Brian May once again, however, both of Tina's songs are absolutely wonderful, some of her best, especially "We Don't Need Another Hero" that one hits hard. While Mad Max 3 ends up as a massive comedown for fans of the previous two, I still quite like it; a wild, imaginative action film that truly shows what the power of cinema can accomplish in even the direst of situations, Beyond Thunderdome closes the trilogy like a lightning blast followed by the ominous, resonant drone of thunder...

An extravagant film fantasy that looks like a sadomasochistic comic book come to life. A spaghetti western on wheels. Bigger, faster, louder, but by no means dumber, Mad Max 2 howls onto the screen with the roar of a V8 that doesn't take its foot off the accelerator for a second and simply never stops for a breath. Epic in its scale and carnage, wasting little time getting to the point, all lean and efficiently paced with none of the excess fats. It's incredible to see how much Miller has improved in such a short space of time, sprung from virtually all action genres and creating one continuous spurt of energy that drives the film towards its end. Heightened by a pared-down, streamlined narrative, the film continually builds its well-earned share of tension interspersed with Miller's dark sense of humour, outstanding action sequences and relentless aggression. Gibson is more confident in the role, carrying an easy, unswaggering masculinity cementing Max's mythical status. Hard, bitter and realistic, he is neither hero nor coward, but a man caught up in a mad future which he confronts unafraid; other casting highlights include Bruce Spence's loveable Gyro Captain and frigging Vernon Wells as Wez. With Brian May's hugely bombastic score in tow, The Road Warrior is up there as one of the best sequels ever made, all executed with comic book colour, punk fashions and vividness. Never has a film's vision of the post-nuclear-holocaust world seemed quite as desolate and as brutal.

Grungy, moody and grimy Ozploitation, Mad Maximus is the ultimate form of guerrilla filmmaking made real offering a straightforward fusion of two classic B-movie subgenres, the car chase and the vigilante revenge. Viciously violent with its post-apocalyptic punk aesthetic, it may be unoriginal and hindered by the lower trappings of its basic subject matter, but it's elevated by having something to say and doing it in a way that was fulfilling both technically and dramatically, transcending its limitations while simultaneously embracing them. George Miller's creativity shines through the rough edges of his debut with a great sense of energy, brilliantly staged action and occasionally wince-inducing stunt work even if a lot of the iconography of the series is mostly absent from this entry. At times the film slows to be more of a character piece about Max and it is one that Mel Gibson does with an impressive amount of range and rage while Brian May's gothic, Bernard Herrmann-inspired score gives it a ragged edge. The tone sometimes wavers into self-parody and there are occasional crude patches but for all its faults, Mad Max offers plenty of Miller's particular brand of black-comedy thrills, intense, high-octane action and impressively shot, ultra-violent post-apocalyptic mayhem.

Borat's cultural learning is revealing, even if it doesn't adequately convey how it benefits the glorious nation of Kazakhstan... I've never been a huge fan of Sacha Baron Cohen's comedy antics so my interest in seeing Borat was always at an all-time low. However, he's by far the most impressive ingredient in the film, whose inflexion and timing are dead-on as he negotiates a vague accent, a native language composed of gibberish and a sprinkling of Polish; all at the expense of those funny old Yanks, painting a picture of the American landscape that would induce nightmares were you not laughing at the interactions he has with likeminded regressive. The whole thing quickly becomes overly repetitive, igniting the baser passions and satisfying the lowest common denominator with my tolerance for its ridiculousness waning fast, it all goes right in the toilet, literally, and never recovers. Great satire, perhaps, but it's all remarkably painful.

Right out of the gate, Bloodfight is a unique piece of martial arts cinema, shot by a Japanese crew, filmed in phonetic English and set in Hong Kong starring a plethora of recognisable names including a baby-faced Simon Yam, unfortunately, there's no escaping the fact that Bloodfight simply isn't a very good film in its own right. Part of the problem is that it never really knows what story it is trying to tell; half of the film is a Bloodsport rip-off while the other is a messily cobbled-together morality tale. The film was clearly marketed towards an international audience with the all-English dialogue but the cast's varying grasp of the language is make or break at best, although there's very little that can elevate material as hammy as this, they try their damnedest to do so. Nevertheless, despite the film's issues, it's made with a lot of earnestness, which I can never bring myself to hate. Shûji Gotô's direction is fine if often let down by some clumsy editing and bland fights, while the soundtrack by Micky Oguchi is one of synth-pop goodness. While on paper Bloodfight may have seemed like a winner, the execution is a different matter entirely; I still ended up liking this way more than I expected but so much of the film comes across as unsatisfying, one I'm sure Frank Dux would have a field day with if he ever watched it.

From the Director of The Boxer's Omen comes a super sleazy riff on Daniel Mann's Willard but with nudity, BDSM and a man who can control snakes. A shameless thriller that mixes social commentary with lashings of sex and violence, played without any irony or humour. The title makes you think this is going to be more along the lines of Calamity of Snakes but instead plays out as a substandard revenge story with unpleasant snake butchering thrown in for good measure. Nearly everyone in this is unlikable in some manner, it wants to emphasise the ugliness of poverty and finding a way out but ultimately fails to capitalise on this idea. Kuei's direction does deserve its fair share of credit, utilising a lot of hand-held camerawork over the glamorous compositions which characterised the Shaw Brothers' output at the time. Unfortunately, The Killer Snakes is an ugly film, one that's ugly in its design, often leading to an execution that's too lightweight to rise above its limited ambitions and very hard to sit through.

I don't wanna be that guy, but The Keep is a film you either get or don't. It's a film of many sensory pleasures, one that you need to let simply wash over you, to sink into and perceive like an opium-inflicted hallucination, The Keep is a monumental example of squandered potential because of studio incompetence. It shows early signs of Mann's rare ability to elevate ostensibly schlocky and uncomfortable material into something dark and majestic, a hybrid mutation of disco horror, rock video, high fashion and imitation art. Mann's direction is simply sublime and his storytelling ability remains unmatched even this early in his career. He doesn't construct a view of the world in which simple and unambiguous forces such as "good" and "evil" do battle, instead, he finds human evil in the failure of systems and not in individuals. Yet, despite the narrative's core thematic elements, Mann is more concerned with crafting a visual and sonic fairytale which he does to a tremendous degree. With a great concept, great cast, stellar production values and an outstanding musical score by Tangerine Dream but cut to ribbons by a studio that thought they knew better than the Mann himself, The Keep is a worthy successor to a mode of horror, as morally unsettling as it is spiritually devastating.

Taking its cues from the film noir tales of the 40s and 50s, filled with neverending shadows, Dark City is an exceptionally stylish-looking production driving a story with grand aspirations. Unabashed in its eccentricities and relishes the hypnotic, mystifying world it creates. Director Alex Proyas drenches each shot with a unique feel and delivers a film with a visual sense with all the inventive, poetic power of Ridley Scott or Terry Gilliam firing on all cylinders. He expertly handles a story that's both dark and often violent and told with a remarkable sense of visual energy and imagination that defies logic and makes frightening, unexpected leaps that lead it down a path you couldn't predict. Superbly well acted and backed by incredible visual effects and a fantastic pulse pounder of a score by Trevor Jones, you often see Dark City unfavourably compared to The Matrix and yet this apocalyptic tale of alien abduction, telekinesis, amnesia, murder and love is an entertaining and unimaginable expedition through a cinematic phenomenon more than worthy of your time.

Mismatched Couples is probably best remembered today as the film where Donnie Yen spends the majority of his time breakdancing to synth-pop tunes, I say this because it's not got much else going for it. An obvious throwaway product that possesses little in terms of actual filmmaking craft, with shoddy acting, an overly repetitive synth score, tired slapstick, toilet humour and name-calling in place of actual dialogue. It's lame and silly, but also energetic and entertaining, albeit in a largely unintentional manner and not one to take seriously. The baby-faced Yen showcases a goofy, agreeable charm weighed down by none of the badass preenings that would typify his later performances. Yuen Woo-Ping's dance choreography comes with the same amount of energy you'd find in his fight scenes but his acting leaves a lot to be desired here, thank goodness he spent the majority of his career behind the camera rather than in front of it. The comedy and mugging are annoying, but the stuntwork, casual athleticism and cheesy energy compensate. As oddly charming as it is cringe-worthy, Mismatched Couples is the type of crazy, entertaining B-level stuff that once made up a good portion of Hong Kong Cinema, and is especially fun today because of its odd mixture of genres plus the glimpse of a gloriously goofy Donnie Yen.

Hired to Kill is like if Andy Sidaris made The Expendables but with none of his usual energy. It boasts performances bad enough to make even Arnie wince, forgettable action and comedy that is completely unintentional. Yet, it's a pitch-perfect encapsulation of 90s direct-to-video shlock with a fairly meaty budget given all the explosions and globe-trotting location work, with fan favourite Brian Thompson getting to play the hero for once and bolstered by relatively memorable supporting roles by frigging Oliver Reed and George Kennedy. There's no real style to the direction but it's all done with competency and earnestness which shine through the film's otherwise weaker aspects while Jerry Grant's score feels like it was constructed from the outtakes he had left over from his work on Magnum P. I. and The A-Team. While it's a little dull at points, Hired to Kill is still an entertaining and pacey little B-movie, if a bit bloodless.

My first film from the self-titled Man You Love to Hate, The Wedding March is a gloriously lavish, painfully incomplete vanity project, which sees Erich von Stroheim showcase an astonishing portrait of decadent Imperial Austria with extravagance and wickedly ironic melodrama. Given von Stroheim's uncompromising attitude to filmmaking means that none of his films ever released exactly how he wanted and it's no different here, vastly over budget, vastly behind schedule and vastly self-indulgent, including the use of thousands of litres of real champagne and locking his cast on a sealed set to shoot an orgy... Silent film directors are insane. It's tragic to remember that even with everything going for The Wedding March, it's barely one-third of von Stroheim's original vision, as the majority of his original edit was massively truncated and the second half of the film he shot, The Honeymoon, is now lost to time. That alone is painfully frustrating. The Wedding March is not the masterpiece it could have been but stands as a testament to Erich von Stroheim's incredible filmmaking talent to this day.

Where Skyfall managed to blend the old with the new, Spectre backslides on nearly every aspect, coming off as increasingly exhausted, uninspired and overly reliant on the franchise's formula. For all its workmanlike devotion to out-of-control helicopters, driving expensive fast cars heedlessly and detonating the occasional wisecrack, the film works best when everyone's on the ground, doing their job. I do feel there's a great film buried underneath the exhaustingly long-running time and the overloaded, extremely messy screenplay; like loads of small ideas barely sewn together, although given what can be found on the surface it is easy to appreciate. Mendes' direction is decent and Hoyte van Hoytema's photography is sublime, the film is gorgeous in that regard, even if the pre-title sequence has a touch of the Hollywood "Mexico" about it. Thomas Newman's score is pleasing to the ear but Sam Smith's song is just falsetto caterwauling, a shame considering the superior Radiohead submission. Craig is still killing it as 007 but his story feels a little too sugary sweet, still moping over a dead woman in Venice and his chemistry with Léa Seydoux is completely non-existent much like her acting. Christoph Waltz makes for a fantastic Blofeld but is left out of the film for way too long and barely given enough to do, he plays the role like that of the classic megalomaniacs of the past but at odds with the Craig era's constant reliance on gritty realism rather. Dave Bautista makes for an imposing henchman but again, he's not given enough to do and gets taken out of the picture rather unceremoniously. A grand collection of could-have-been's and wasted moments, what's missing is the unexpected emotional urgency of its predecessor, as Spectre sustains the nostalgia kick with a less sentimental bent. It has up and down moments, never quite sure about standing alone as an independent Bond story or being dismissed as a pit stop for 007-related flashbacks. It's a paint-by-numbers, Spectre is still a James Bond movie, one that's very engaging and occasionally entertaining.

I don't think anything will ever beat seeing Skyfall on the big screen on opening night. Celebrating 50 years of one of cinema's most enduring franchises, respecting its past and securing its future, Skyfall blends new impulses with the series' old flourishes to deliver something so immeasurably satisfying that stands tall as a near-perfect action thriller even today. A tad leaner on the action, but it's certainly incredibly meaty on plot thanks to a terrific script that remains masterfully paced all glued together with perfectly pitched tone and mood. Unafraid to crack the occasional joke or delve deep into the psyche of its main character. With Sam Mendes in the director's chair, he spreads around his share of rubble and destruction just as much as exploring the backstory and meaning of its main character; all sumptuously photographed by Roger Deakins in what is by far Craig's best-looking entry and one of the prettiest of the entire franchise with every inch of the screen dripping in cinematic beauty, with eyegasmic wide shots and mind-blowing lighting. Speaking of Craig, he takes full possession of the role here, the defining performance in his portrayal of 007 having fully relaxed into Bond, dry and intelligent without losing any steeliness that comes with the role. Judi Dench gets to flex her chops in a beefy role for poor old M, essentially the co-star and Bond girl of the film. Javier Bardem's Silva makes for a fantastic villain, one that feels classically authentic to the series played with worrisome élan. While Ralph Fiennes as Mallory and Ben Whishaw as Q are equally likeable in their respective roles, phenomenal acting all around. Thomas Newman steps up to compose the score for this entry, it's a phenomenal score although one I don't tend to listen to all that often. The classic themes are all here and the way Newman sprinkles them in throughout works wonders, although the Adele song has grated on me the more time has gone on, as it set a precedent for the next two themes in the series trying to match it. Thematically, Skyfall reminds us that, despite a healthy serving of both ups and downs over the years, this 50-year-old franchise remains something that can still surprise us. Everything is perfectly orchestrated, a testament to the classic character in the sense that no matter how much the world changes around him, Bond's still got what it takes to get the job done.

The first true bonafide sequel of the franchise, Quantum of Solace had all the promise of being a depressed suicidal follow-up to On Her Majesty's Secret Service we never got but unfortunately suffered from a rushed production due to the looming writers' strike of 2008 which ultimately transformed a once-promising idea into one of unnecessary complexity and nauseating editing. Following Casino Royale was never going to be easy, but director Marc Foster certainly put his stamp on the series, for better or worse. It's not the prettiest Bond film and the action is completely incomprehensible, clearly having graduated from the Paul Greengrass School of Directing. A school no one should aspire to be a graduate from. It starts alright but slowly becomes less and less interesting until it suddenly ends, it all comes across as an overly generic second-rate Bourne clone which the 007 series should never aspire to be. Craig is doing the heavy lifting here remaining as dutiful as ever with his calm rage and raw charisma, however, his constant moping about a mid af woman he watched drown in the previous film is what ultimately goes on to plague both this and his last two outings in the tux. The chemistry he shares with the gorgeous Olga Kurylenko is painfully mundane while Mathieu Amalric plays one of the worst Bond villains to date in the form of Dominic Greene and the film ultimately ends up wasting both David Harbour and Jesper Christensen. David Arnold delivers his final score for the series and while decent it's far from his best, the song is also far from great given there were many better options submitted. I don't outright hate Quantum of Solace for what it is worth, but it's exceptionally workmanlike and one I wouldn't actively go out of my way to watch given the choice, it could have been so much better had it not been rushed out the door to meet a deadline.

Ditching the gadget-laden spectacles for bare-knuckle battles and adrenaline-pumping stunts with a wincing physicality, Casino Royale sees the 007 series return to the basics again, showcasing how our favourite secret agent earned his moniker. Taking what was learned with Dalton and Brosnan's runs and refining those elements, it is more than capable of standing up to its contemporary competition. It's well paced, well shot, well acted with lots of clever nods to past Bond-isms, disposing of all the fun for pure grit. With Director Martin Campbell again charged with bringing the series back he pulled out all the stops and doesn't miss a beat, giving us a much leaner production and opting to let his action speak for itself while remaining true to Fleming's material. Daniel Craig's first outing in the tuxedo gives us a caustic, haunted and intense reinvention of 007, this is Bond in his early days before he became the cold and calculated professional, it is one hell of a debut performance for a role he once wasn't considered the best fit for. He's a fine actor with some of the working-class bile of a young Michael Caine. Backed by the indomitable Mads Mikkelsen as Le Chiffre and Jesper Christensen's mysterious Mr White, it's hard to fault many of the performances in this. David Arnold's score is pretty good, delivering a much less extravagant and bombastic effort than what we've had from him before, while Chris Cornell's rocking title song is simply incredible, I wish we had more like those in Craig's tenure as opposed to all the dreary sounding wailing we got from Skyfall onwards. Casino Royale is 007 for the mainstream crowd, an anti-Bond film that strips most of the glamour and escapism from Bond and slowly builds up the legend one element at a time giving us an excellent streamlined back-to-basics approach for Bond that hits all the right marks in rejuvenating the franchise for a new generation.

Sudden Death may wear the skin of a Die Hard clone but this Van Damme venture is hardly a cheap knock-off, offering up a thrilling rollercoaster ride of hard-edge action that's expertly paced and filled with nail-biting tension. Directed by Peter Hyams with slick polish and high production values, Hyams twists the classic Die Hard formula on its head while keeping within the limits of its setting, restrained to a point but when the terror goes into overtime, the gloves come off. Although initially intended as a parody of the genre, with the mascot fight a bizarre remnant of this, Hyams and the crew play it straight and the whole film comes off better for it. It's helped enormously by its cast, with Van Damme on top form, delivering one of his best performances while Powers Boothe plays a vicious b*stard who is just a sheer joy to watch, that's how you sell a villain. John Debney does a fantastic job with the score; pounding away in the background and building the suspense. Methodically paced and exciting as hell, Sudden Death is no second-rate cash grab, it's a genuinely marvellous film in its own right. It's an entertaining mix of excellent action, unintended comedy and insane thrills that's all capped off by jaw-dropping stunts and just the right ratio of explosions to dialogue.

David Leitch's simultaneous love letter to the unsung heroes of the film industry and the entire community that creates that magic, The Fall Guy is a gloriously fun breeze, armed with an appealingly low-stakes conflict, uproariously witty script, inventive set pieces and an incredible soundtrack, that makes the 125-minute runtime fly by. Couching serious labour concerns about the lack of recognition for some of Hollywood's hardest-working creatives into a film that's hilarious, entertaining and gloriously meta with the perfect dose of romantic moments thanks to the boundless charm of Gosling and Blunt.

The moment they dropped the Miami Vice Theme, all the dads in the audience cheered, mine included. 😊

Arriving at a time when The Bourne Identity had ushered in a new era of gritty action-espionage movies, Die Another Day can be seen as the last time the Bond movies had any sense of fun about them. It's gloriously over the top, lavishly crafted and fully embracing the campy nature of the genre. In many ways, this 007 entry reminds me of John Woo's MI2, ironic considering both he and Tony Scott, two directors I love were the initial choices for this instalment. No one's going to accuse this film of being a sophisticated spy movie, it often comes across as a clumsy homage to the franchise's illustrious history more than a film in its own right. Tamahori's direction is filled with many early 2000s staples, the choppy slow-mo, over-reliance on cheap CGI and poor lighting. However, I can't fault the action done by Vic Armstrong who's doing the heavy lifting here, the ice chase and opening hovercraft pursuit are great fun leaning into the film's fantastical nature. Brosnan is clearly at ease with the role here and just rolling with it, Halle Berry's Jinx makes for a great counterpart to Bond and Toby Stephens is just hamming it up in the villain role. David Arnold delivers another great score, one that incorporates many more electronic elements than his previous works, it's the score I've found myself listening to more often than his others. Madonna's title song though... no, just no. Die Another Day is certainly not vintage Bond, it is ridiculous in the way that wouldn't be out of place in a video game but nearly mindless in how it handles the granddaddy of action thrillers with its plot and tone at a complete mismatch. It's not as bad as its reputation suggests but far from the ending Brosnan deserved.