Reviews

Having been hired to do specialized research, a historian rents a room in a local hotel. He does not know that the hotel is the successor building to an ill-famed dwelling associated with an equally ill-famed bishop. Could the centuries-old accusations of witchcraft and devil worship still be relevant ?

Since I don't remember having read the source story by M R James, I can't say anything about the fidelity of this adaptation. So I'll just try to evaluate it as a creative work on its own merits.

"Number 13" starts out slowly but gains pace and excitement as it goes along. The premise seems to have been inspired by that superstitious dislike of the number 13 to be found in much of Western culture. This dislike has led to strange phenomena such as buildings without a thirteenth floor, a thirteenth flat, a thirteenth elevator and so on. The plot deals with a richly dislikeable historian who discovers that there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of even after a dinner of pineapple pizza, chicken vindaloo and baked Alaska flambé.

On the whole "Number 13" is well-made and soigné, although it may lack something in the "existential horror" department. (I don't know about you, but I've always found this number 13-thing silly rather than scary. One might just as well start to worry about the color lilac or about the size of Roubaix.) Still, the movie does succeed in conjuring up an unsettling atmosphere. Much is owed to a good choice of locations. Just take a look at that old hotel with its dark woodwork and panelling. Who could remain there and thrive ? Surrounded by such gloom, most guests would feel their life energy waver and ebb, like guttering candles.

There's also a clever evocation of the hotel as a closed-off, self-contained entity standing in the middle of a city but ticking away according to its own rules. One would not be surprised to learn that, every Walpurgis night, the building travels through the air in order to land on a cursed mountaintop...

A specialist has been hired in order to catalogue the library of Barchester cathedral. It turns out to be a dull job involving unremarkable documents. Together with the librarian in charge, he opens a forgotten old chest that might contain something interesting. "Interesting" is an understatement, since the chest contains the diary of an archdeacon consumed by fear...

"The stalls of Barchester" is an excellent horror, very British in style and feel. The movie is proof positive that is possible to deliver genuine chills without having recourse to explicit gore and in-your-face effects. Magnificently atmospheric in a wintry, twilight way, it tells a tale about an overly ambitious deacon - later on, archdeacon - who gets to pay for his crime. The bill is being presented to him by Furies that might exist only in his mind - or perhaps not.

The casting and acting are outstanding. The role of the archdeacon is played by a superb Robert Hardy, whose facial expression alone is more expressive than many a monologue. The scenes where he smoulders with ill-contained frustration next to his Methuselah-like colleague are both ominous and darkly comical.

The intrigue related to the archdeacon acts as a critique of the vile passions that can flourish even within a house of God. It is always wise to remember that there exists a type of person capable of plotting murder while sitting in a storied cathedral glowing with all the adornments art and faith can provide.

Pity poor detective inspector Martin Denson, who's got to face both a crumbling marriage and an investigation of daunting complexity. Charged with solving the murder of a female hitchhiker, he has to hack a path through a jungle of rumors, lies and evasions. And the clock is ticking, given that the body count rises like dough...

Yet another mystery thriller/crime series coming to us courtesy of the indefatigable Francis Durbridge, "The passenger" deals with themes like murder, conspiracy, blackmail and adultery. Perhaps surprisingly, a sizeable portion of the characters go on to meet their Maker prematurely. It may be a good thing that the series consisted of only three episodes, since a longer running time could have resulted in a country-wide depopulation.

I like the work of Francis Durbridge well enough, but this particular series is not one of his best. For about two or two-and-a-half episodes the intrigue hangs together well, showing all the hallmarks of a clever and well-constructed puzzle. The viewer gets treated to a rich array of suspects, clues and red herrings ; it all ticks along nicely, with a twist here and a surprise reveal there. The third episode leads up to a violent escape attempt complete with gunfire, fistfights and explosions, meaning that there's no lack of excitement. Alas, the third episode does not lead up to a clear explanation of everything that went before. Neither does it tie up all the loose ends.

So quite a lot of people will be left scratching their heads. It almost feels as though some mischievous soul has grabbed a pair of scissors and cut away the ten most illuminating minutes.

Apart from that, not an evil word against the acting, the props, the locations etcetera, all of which are decent enough.

"Absolute denial" revolves around the experiences of a brilliant but awkward loner who builds a supercomputer. The supercomputer quickly develops a personality of its own, playfully baptised Al. Alas, it isn't easy to control a mind with a mind of its own...

While not technically perfect, the animation style used in order to tell the tale is both nuanced and expressive. Here, the limited color palette becomes an asset rather than a liability. The main subject links the movie squarely to a time-honored theme to be found in both the horror and the science fiction genre : a scientist tampers with matters that shouldn't be tampered with, only in order to discover that his unholy creation is outwitting or escaping him. This venerable old theme is given a new lease on life by a clever use of the idea that the things being shown on screen - or at least part of the things being shown on screen - might not reflect reality, but rather some kind of hallucination, simulation or scenario.

Because "Absolute denial" invites multiple interpretations, it can also be read as a cautionary parable about the dangers of mentally exhausting work. Doing the kind of work the human protagonist is doing requires qualities such as patience, persistence, purpose, attention to detail and seriousness of mind ; but at the same time it also requires an ability to distance oneself from the job at hand, for instance through entertainment and relaxation. Small wonder that so many people suffer a burn-out, since this is a VERY difficult needle to thread.

In short, a rewarding and thought-provoking watch.

In "Warp speed", a female psychic is asked to visit a spacecraft that returned early, emptied of all human life. I'm not sure that this is the most logical step to take, although it would make for some intriguing trends in psychic ads. ("My name is Kristi and thanks to my spirit guide Callabelle LaFleur I can read the past and predict the future ! Tarot, palmistry, black box for interplanetary misadventures. Reasonable prices.") Anyway, the psychic wanders through an abandoned spacecraft called the "Atlas" and discovers the story of a mission going awry in a particularly blood-soaked way. While doing so she gets sucked ever deeper into the day-to-day life of a crew growing feral.

At this stage it needs to be said that the selection committee charged with picking the crew for the "Atlas" did a remarkably bad job. The crew seems to consist mainly of jerks and nepo babies who make a hash of it even before the spacecraft runs into technical problems. These are the kind of people who, in their natural habitat, would quarrel with cashiers, insult traffic cops and go for drunken joy rides in golf carts. The various crew members also dislike each other warmly. So who would put flagrantly unsuitable souls such as these in charge of a billion-dollar space mission to Saturn ?

But I digress. I can't in good conscience call "Warp speed" a good movie, given the many defects with regard to directing, acting, editing and so on. It is also unclear whether this whole psychic-unravelling-an-incident angle adds much to the value. However, "Warp speed" does have a certain nasty, pulsating energy which survives all of these mishaps. Think of a patch of nettles on the margins of a building site, rough and tough enough to survive dropped tiles, leaky pipes and burning tires.

The hardened science fiction/horror completists among us can contrast and compare "Warp speed" to the later "Event horizon".

A middle-aged couple from a quiet and respectable background is contacted by a stranger who turns out to be an agent for British counterintelligence services. He wants to use their home as the basis for a modest surveillance operation. How to refuse ? Gradually the operation grows more extensive and intrusive. And the moral implications get more thorny...

Notable mainly for the high quality of its performances, "Pack of lies" is a blend of espionage thriller and drama, with an emphasis on the drama. The movie seems to have been based on a theatre play inspired by a real-life incident. In spite of these theatrical origins the plot moves around easily and fluidly. One of the main themes consists of the high cost of betrayal. Another main theme is the fractal nature of mendacity. Here, a lie leads into another lie which leads into another lie which leads into another lie which leads into another lie which... It will cause the members of a once-happy household to become estranged from their dearest friends, from each other and, eventually, from themselves.

As the movie progresses, the viewer will find it hard not to pity the innocent family caught up in such a completely unexpected situation. Who, in his or her right mind, would ever worry about the risk of being dragged into a high-stakes affair of national security ? It's like sitting quietly at home, reading a good book, and having your living room invaded by a pride of lions. Or it's like entering a bakery, hoping to buy some croissants, and discovering a sword-fight between Roman gladiators.

Anyway, I recommend "Pack of lies", although it's unlikely to leave you with a merry smile on your lips.

"The lottery" is a good adaptation of Shirley Jackson's deeply unsettling tale. It seems to have been made with modest means and little-known actors, but this does not diminish the essential horror at the heart of the ceremony. Perhaps these two factors even enhance the short movie, by evoking something atrocious masquerading as everyday normality. Or worse : by evoking something atrocious BEING everyday normality.

Just like the source material, the 1969 short can be read as a condemnation of one of humanity's more persistent defects, to wit indulging in some completely irrational behavior while defending it as traditional, useful and/or character-building. (Note the old man stating how in his time, folks weren't these puling weaklings - no siree, people just took it on the chin. It's the lottery that built this country !)

Would make an excellent double bill with a performance of the "Sacre du printemps" ballet in its original choreography. The action of "The lottery" isn't all that far removed from the maidens' lethal game of musical chairs...

An incident during election time degenerates in grievous violence. Bravely trying to interfere and make an arrest, a police inspector is shot down like a dog. Before dying in hospital, he identifies the culprit as one Antoine Portor. The said Portor is on the payroll of one of the main political candidates...

So what happens if you're a police commissioner trying to catch a cop killer who works as hired muscle for a wily politician ? Welcome to "Adieu poulet", one of the more striking French thrillers of the 1970's. Blessed with an all-star cast giving fine performances, the movie deals with the damages caused by unscrupulous politicians. Here, the political ambitions of an immoral man have turned into a cancer affecting ever more institutions and ever more levels of society. Not even the police is safe from his manoeuvring, given that he's grown powerful enough - and shameless enough - to remove an actual police commissioner. Rather than a case of "the gift that keeps on giving", it's a case of "the corruption that keeps on corrupting".

In this sense the plot functions as a warning about the unlovely things that can hide behind the gleaming façades of parliamentary democracies.

A lively movie peppered with stunts and action scenes, "Adieu poulet" makes an excellent use of the various Rouen locations. It also contains a considerable dose of black humor. (Note the joke with the vibrating brothel bed, set during the first five minutes or so.) The story works up to a nicely ironical ending where an engineer gets hoist with his own petard.

In short : still quite enjoyable.

Imagine a little boy riding his tricycle, going "huff-huff-huff" and thinking he's surpassing Eddy Merckx in his pomp. Or imagine a seven-year-old girl standing in front of a mirror, twirling her mother's pearls and drowning in one of her mother's frocks. Again : it's cute, but nobody in his right mind would mistake it for the real thing. Enter Michael Flatley, playing a retired secret agent with a tormented past. You feel like reaching out, pinching his cheek in an affectionate way and saying : "My my, haven't you grown ! I'd like to speak to your Mummy - is she in ? Or is there another grown-up I could talk to ?"

So no, Mr. Flatley is not particularly convincing as a charming but redoubtable man who - by Jove - has still got it. The role of the protagonist should have gone to someone far more adept at suggesting danger, magnetism and manly prowess.

"Blackbird" doesn't have a lot of other charms either. I'll spare you a closer description of the premise (derivative), the plot (thin) or the dialogue (flat). Suffice it to say that there's a considerable sense of opportunities missed and money wasted. This beautiful scenery could have sustained a riveting tale of intrigue and adventure, but...

After watching the movie I was left with the nagging feeling that I had overlooked something. Could there be some kind of secret communication going on ? Is there a hidden meaning, to be grasped only by those in the know ? It is a fact that much of real-life spycraft relies on communication through pre-arranged signals. For instance, putting a vase of roses in front of a window might mean "It is safe for you to approach this house", while neglecting to do so might mean "Avoid this address, it is under enemy surveillance".

Now consider the countless hats and caps worn in "Blackbird". Does a hat worn over the left ear signify "Your masters in Peking are pleased with your recent work" ? And does a hat combined with a yellow summer jacket indicate "Peking has suggested that you take a long walk on a short pier" ? Or is it rather the bow ties we should be focusing on ? So many questions...

In Paris, a hard-working painter called Lafleur pours his heart and his soul into his work. Sometimes his rather naive paintings sell well, sometimes they don't. Purely by accident, a starving vagrant finds himself looking at one of the paintings. The sight invigorates and nourishes him, not only spiritually but also physically. Is it possible that Lafleur's oeuvre satisfies actual hunger ?

What if art were not only nourishment for the soul, but also for the body ? Meet the fantasy premise behind "La bonne peinture", a mostly lighthearted blend of whimsy and social satire. The plot deals with a humble artist who has been given the power to feed humanity, under circumstances that are a mystery even to him. (As one of my old teachers used to say : "Of all human beings surely artists must be closest to God's heart, since they honor Him by illuminating and explaining His creation". Yes, but do they use enough soap ?)

The prop work with regard to Lafleur's oeuvre is both colorful and funny. Probably many viewers will come to the conclusion that, from an aesthetic point of view, they would pay good money in order NOT to have a Lafleur hanging on the wall.

Like I've said "La bonne peinture" tends to be lighthearted. But it does contain sharper reflections about inequality. Why is it that, in a country overflowing with milk and honey, some citizens have to worry about the acquisition of another countryside château, while others have to worry about the acquisition of another pot of strawberry jam for the family larder ? How is it even possible that a lifetime of backbreaking work can fail to secure a comfortable retirement ? The movie also denounces the darker quirks of human nature. Note the destitute old woman who receives a wonderful boon - and who later on grows angry at discovering that other people in need might receive a similar answer to their prayers.

It is a pity that the movie, clever as it is, does not work up to a satisfying resolution or a memorable finale. Watching the story unfold - and end - is pretty much like taking the train, travelling through a pleasant and enjoyable landscape, and arriving in the same spot you departed from. Or it's like listening to a promising joke, only in order to discover that it's got no punchline. From this angle the movie struck me as a disappointment.

Fun fact : the lead role is played by actor Claude Brasseur, who delivers an agreeable performance. The middle-aged lady doing the narration is his mother, Odette Joyeux.

Great-Britain is proud of its powerful new radio telescope. The radio telescope captures a signal coming from the Andromeda Nebula, which, properly analyzed, turns out to be a message. Humanity is being sent the instructions for building an advanced computer. Both the construction of the computer and the resulting discoveries could lift disciplines like mathematics, telecommunications and biology to a whole new level. It all sounds wildly exciting, possibly in a "too good to be true" fashion...

"A come Andromeda" is the Italian remake and adaptation of a British monument of the science fiction genre, to wit "A for Andromeda" (1961). The source series itself has disappeared due to an injudicious wiping of the tapes - an act of institutionalized vandalism if there ever was one - but the Italian remake is still with us, in the shape of a well-made black-and-white series in five episodes. I get the impression that the Italian remake was a close and respectful one, given that there's much about the tone and the subject matter that whispers Great-Britain rather than Italy.

Anyhow, the action is set in Great-Britain and the characters' names are British too.

As a piece of science fiction, "A come Andromeda" is notable for the boldness and originality of its ideas. This is a brilliant example of ideas-driven science fiction, dealing with concepts such as the artificial manufacture of a "woman" meant to act as a scout, interpreter and servant to a computer. (Viewers writing a learned tome about the cultural depiction of women can do worse than study the Andromeda character. She/it should be good for several pages in the "Women as robots and androids" chapter.)

The series is quite good at evoking a unique event, unprecedented in the history of our species, causing ever more unforeseen effects. An alien signal is received and from then on events start to snowball, snowball, snowball in the most unexpected directions. The series is equally adept at showing the great rivalries - international, political, industrial, commercial and so on - that would be inflamed left, right and center. Many of the characters are determined to get a piece of the pie, even if the pie's origin or nature might be a matter of conjecture. The various representatives of the military are especially keen to lay their hands on the advanced computer and its applications, driven by an existential desire to find newer, better, bigger weapons.

At this point it needs to be said that "A come Andromeda" espouses a bleak view of humanity, which is depicted as prone to fighting, overtly or covertly, over matters of turf, power and money. Ironically, humanity runs straight into the fist of an alien intelligence - perhaps belonging to a humanoid lifeform, perhaps not - which seems to be at least as nasty as the local variety, and more technologically advanced to boot. So is there any hope as to the character of the intelligent life to be found in the cosmos ? Or are the planets strewn only with varying shades of cruelty, callousness and calculation ?

I rather liked this series, which had been made with obvious devotion and skill. I certainly liked it more than the 2006 "A for Andromeda" movie, yet another iteration of the source material. In my humble opinion the 2006 movie did a poor job of summarizing the story. It also did a poor job of generating a sense of wonder, horror or suspense.

A modest but well-respected chemistry teacher has been running an experiment supposed to make a bit of money, thus allowing him to get married and start a family. While the experiment gets interrupted by an outside force, it does result in a surprise product, to wit a substance that recoils from wood. In an "Eureka !" moment the professor discovers a practical application within the world of sports...

As a comedy (or as a mix of comedy and science fiction) "It happens every Spring" is best described as workmanlike. It gets the job done, without great flourishes of wit, silliness or imagination. The plot could have used some extra twists and turns. The main interest of the movie springs from its depiction of contemporary baseball. Baseball still numbers among the great American sports, but watching the images of vast crowds, enraptured fans and giant stadiums one gets the impression that circa 1950 it must have been even more influential. Indeed, the images testify to a nation-wide obsession rather than a popular game. Modern-day devotees of the sport will cry for joy upon discovering celebrated teams, venues and landmarks ; the non-devotees may be less impressed.

There's an interesting thing about the plot, and that's the fact that nobody who is in on the secret minds the professor cheating at sports. The professor himself doesn't care about the immoral nature of his actions and neither do his fiancée or his fiancée's parents. Even worse, his students and peers applaud him for being so clever. Well, it is a scientific fact that good hard cash washes away all blemishes...

Not having read the source novel by P. G. Wodehouse, I can't comment on the fidelity of the adaptation. (I'm not much of a Wodehouse devotee.) Anyway, "Heavy weather" is a likeable comedy about a chorus girl who has fallen in love with a member of a prominent family, and vice versa. Alas, while the young couple are already planning their honeymoon, a number of older relatives are determined to send the unwelcome songbird packing. Things aren't improved by the prospective groom's tendency to become unreasonably jealous. The intrigue unfolds against a background containing prize pigs, tell-all memoirs and sagacious butlers.

As a comedy "Heavy weather" is notable for its fine cast and acting. It's also got some magnificently quotable lines. Generally speaking the tone of the satire is light and merry rather than lacerating. From an aesthetic point of view the movie looks sleek and soigné and expensive, in a 1920's-to-1930's kind of way. One can easily imagine the same locations being reused for a "Poirot" or a "Campion" episode about a gentleman thief trying to pinch Lady Snootbuff's pearls.

Had I been one of the movie's creators I would have added another prop for the ancestral pile, to wit a painting testifying to the fact that the family owed both its existence and its wealth to a monarch willing to provide for one of his by-blows. (A faded portrait of King Charles II fondling a half-naked actress would have fit the bill nicely.) Sadly, no such luck...

This accomplished series is devoted to the adventures of an enterprising young man from a prominent family, who has chosen to work as a private detective under a pseudonym derived from the flower world. (Could this find be a tribute to fiction's "Scarlet Pimpernel" ?) Under the name of Albert Campion the young man battles and outwits evildoers of all stripes. He is assisted by a valet/technical consultant/reformed criminal called Lugg who acts as his conduit into the more criminal segments of society. Lugg also takes care of the lion's share of comic relief. In the series, the characters are played by Peter Davison and Brian Glover respectively, who both do very well.

On the whole it is a pretty lighthearted series, although it does contain some grisly moments. As befits a British series, it also contains touches of the eerie and the supernatural. In "Look to the lady", for instance, Campion meets with members of an old aristocratic family charged with safeguarding a priceless cup. Near the end it is suggested that the cup is being watched over by someone... or something... Well, by something quite dangerous to wrongdoers. Cinephiles can amuse themselves by comparing "Look to the lady" to one of the entries in the Indiana Jones franchise, to wit "Indiana Jones and the last crusade".

Set in the 1930's, "Campion" is a visual and aesthetic delight. The men's costumes in particular are impeccably tailored.

The series is based on various novels by Margery Allingham, who was one of the "Queens of crime" of her generation. Her work is still very readable and I recommend it warmly to everyone who likes a nicely immersive and atmospheric thriller/detective. I also recommend the 1956 movie adaptation of "Tiger in the smoke".

Overtaken by fierce stomach pains, a woman driver crashes her car on the side of the road. Good Samaritans transport her to the nearest hospital, which happens to be a private clinic for an aged and distinguised clientele. The doctor in charge diagnoses an accidental food poisoning and takes decisive action. As these events unfold, the patient's husband is getting hammered in a variety of pubs, in the company of an ex-girlfriend...

So far the limbo connection tale is the only part of the "Armchair thriller" series I've watched. Divided over various episodes, the tale stands on its own, as a good, twisty thriller with some horror accents. The plot deals with a not entirely likeable drunk who discovers that his wife has gone missing. His quest for answers does not start under the most auspicious of stars, given that his drinking has been affecting both his memory and his marriage.

Behind the thriller intrigue stands a critique of the networking talents shown by the well-heeled classes. You know the type : the wife of the newspaper owner is sister to the chief superintendent, who happens to be godfather to the surgeon who treated the lawyer of the prime minister's niece - and all of them are friendly with the dean of St Creosote. Here the protagonist needs to hack and slash and tear his way through a massy thicket of interwoven relationships, like a heavy-drinking version of the gallant prince in "Sleeping beauty". So will he make it out alive or will he die bleeding amidst the thorns ?

A group of stuntmen and trainee stuntmen enjoy a holiday full of Rabelaisian fun and games. (Perhaps I should correct that as "stuntpersons", since the group also includes women - but then the women all behave like One of the Boys, so...) At one point they meet up with an old friend living in one of the more isolated corners of the USA. Unwittingly, they have strayed dangerously close to the compound of ruthless drugs traders...

I'm sorry to say that "Real bullets" suffers from a thin screenplay, a leaden dialogue and a general lack of inspiration. The second half of the movie mainly consists of two discrete groups of people running around and shooting at each other, either with guns or with bows. The editing is particularly bad, seemingly having been performed by someone who had lost a bet and was still angry about it. The whole of the production budget seems to have consisted of a thousand dollars, sandwiches for extras included. Mind you, it is possible that the production benefited from a bulk discount for buying large amounts of blue jeans, witness the many characters wearing such attire.

The cast includes a badly underused Martin Landau, who looks as though he's worrying about his career arc.

What's so interesting about movies, is that bad movies quite often offer a more illuminating insight into the human psyche than good ones. This certainly applies to "Real bullets", which functions as an excellent introduction to the fantasy life of eleven-to-fourteen-year-old males. (From a mental point of view it is, of course, possible to remain fourteen until dying of old age aged ninety-nine.) Watching "Real bullets" is like stepping into a wish fulfillment dream of early-adolescent males whose idea of the good life consists of doing heroic deeds, pulling off daring stunts and being admired by loyal mates. The good life also comprises playing billiards in bars and breaking a chair over the head of anybody foolish enough to give you sass. And of course there are a lot of pretty girls around. Pretty girls whose naked boobs you can see ! Pretty girls whose naked boobs you can touch ! Pretty girls who beg you to TOUCH. THEIR. NAKED. BOOBS ! THEIR ACTUAL NUDE-BARE-NUDE-BARE-BARE BOOBS ! BOOOOOOBS ! (Insert a five-minute wolf howl à la Tex Avery.)

In short, I don't recommend "Real bullets", except to viewers who like to organize drinking games with like-minded friends. Safety warning : do not attempt to drink a shot of tequila every time a blue jeans appears on the screen.

A professional photographer is stunned to learn that his brother has died, apparently as a result of suicide. The news both shocks and baffles him, since his brother never showed any suicidal tendencies. It is also unclear why the deceased was found in a hotel room in a city that wasn't part of his itinerary...

Coming to us thanks to the prolific Francis Durbridge, "The desperate people" is a pleasantly watchable thriller/crime series about a man trying to figure out what happened to his brother. While doing so he has to confront all kinds of subterfuges. Scotland Yard too is on the case, following a serpentine trail leading all the way to Germany. (As a viewer one rather gets the impression that the solution might have been found earlier if both parties had consistently pooled finds, information and theories.)

Although "The desperate people" is serious rather than comic, it includes welcome touches of humor. One of the recurring clues, for instance, is a photograph of a couple, the female half of which is earnestly playing the accordion. The plotting is both guileful and intricate, resulting in Surprises with a capital S.

In short, still an enjoyable way in which to waste a few hours. If you've liked this one, chances are that you'll like "Der Tod läuft hinterher", a 1967 series from West-Germany.

The space race is on and rival nations aim at putting a man on the moon. Great-Britain too cherishes ambitions of the highest order, running a whole astronaut training programme. By coincidence, British scientists discover a male citizen who is capable of withstanding stress, extreme conditions and illness. This superb specimen ascribes his own rude health to a calm and carefree lifestyle. Moreover, he has always studiously avoided any attempt at matrimony...

A merry black-and-white comedy, "Man in the moon" takes a whimsical look at the space race. The whimsy is blended with satire. There is a great deal of national self-mockery, witness the idea of Great-Britain being at the absolute vanguard of space exploration. The same talent for self-mockery surfaces in the scenes depicting British sports and entertainment. Here the movie highlights the fact that a lot of the most celebrated events are held either under a pouring rain or else during a force-nine gale. (Mind you, the foulest weather is to be found during Easter weddings. Speaking as a foreign observer who once saw a bridesmaid's coat in lilac organza end up on a church roof.)

It is a bit of a pity that "Man in the moon" goes through some dull stretches. The resolution with regard to the actual expedition to the moon also feels strangely indeterminate, as if screenwriters had quarreled over the most effective option. Still, the movie contains enough fun to justify its existence, either in the shape of gags or in the shape of witty lines.

Some of the gags are set within an impressively realistic environment depicting state-of-the-art technology, such as the technology used for flight simulation or astronaut training. The sets and effects are quite good. It is a pretty safe bet that the various creators of "Man in the moon" liked watching science fiction movies. It is also a pretty safe bet that they liked to read up-to-date scientific journals about astronomy and such.

Watching the movie one automatically wonders at the rare qualities needed in order to become an astronaut. Whenever I picture myself as a potential space cadet, I see me standing in front of the gates surrounding some government facility, explaining over the intercom how I'm unable to find the main entrance...

Highlight : the tests run by the institute for the study of the common cold.

(A short preliminary note : as far as I can tell, the work seems to exist both as a mini-series and as a continuous movie. I watched the continuous movie format.)

Being a great admirer of author Ruth Rendell, I've read most of her oeuvre. However I've yet to read "Thirteen steps down", meaning that I can't judge the fidelity (or lack of it) of this particular adaptation. So I'll just try to evaluate it as a creative work on its own.

"13 Steps down" is a crime/thriller movie about the dangers of misjudgment, self-deceit and wishful thinking. The movie also contains a warning about old crimes having the potency to inspire new ones. One of the main characters is an unmarried old lady with a prickly and reclusive nature. For decades, she has nursed the belief that her true love - a doctor - should have proposed to her. In fact the doctor never considered her a viable romantic partner to begin with. Another main character is a disturbed young man who happens to be a lodger of the old lady. Smitten by a ravishing biracial model, he believes he is destined to sweep her off her feet. Consequently he starts to follow her around, making a note of her various habits and haunts.

As the young man's grip on reality weakens, he progresses from stalking and spying to even worse crimes, under the attentive eye of his personal patron saint John Reginald Christie. (Yes, THAT John Reginald Christie.) It will all end in a stinking, steaming mess sure to traumatise the neighborhood for decades and to start a whole new generation of ghost tales.

As you will have guessed by now, "13 Steps down" is not the merriest movie ever. On the contrary, it is quite a sombre work with unsettling touches of eeriness. But it does hold the viewer's attention, mainly thanks to a variety of good performances. Luke Treadaway in particular impresses as a mentally unbalanced young man who unravels pretty much in front of our eyes.

On the whole the intrigue hangs together well, although it seems to contain a logical flaw. So the plot deals with a beautiful model/celebrity who notices that she's being stalked by a determined weirdo. The stalker knows where she lives and thinks nothing of intruding on her privacy. Why does she neglect to take basic precautions, like any reasonable person would ? She's rich enough to afford a whole range of security measures : not just an alarm system, but also bodyguards, guard dogs, gates, fences and a gun. What the hell, Chanel would probably be glad to create a fancy assortment of pepper sprays for her...

Together, two married couples have rented a boat for what's supposed to become a relaxing vacation. The experience turns out to be less happy and carefree than hoped for. The arrival of a helpful stranger seems to promise a turn for the better, but this is an idle hope...

I was rather surprised to learn that "Way upstream" was based on a theatre play, given that most of the action involves travels by boat. As a result the staging must comprise terrible technical challenges.

Anyway, "Way upstream" the television adaptation is quite well made. The acting, the locations, the props, the costumes, they're all admirable. By increments, the story gets more wild and more ominous, picturing a collective (or near-collective) descent into feral lunacy. Stuart Wilson is seriously disturbing as Vince, the charismatic but malevolent master of misrule.

So how to describe "Way upstream" best ? As a black comedy with touches of absurdity ? As a fantasy/horror about stranger danger, this time in an all-adult context ? As a cautionary tale about the primal savagery hiding in many a human breast ? I suppose that all of these descriptions apply. The movie can also be read as a satirical allegory about political life. Certainly the movie points out - accurately so - that despotism can come in various flavors. There's the despotism, for instance, that comes dressed in business suits, that flaunts gold watches and that speaks of law and order ; and then there's the despotism that wears jeans, that smokes self-grown weed and that celebrates parties, holidays and booze. Some types of tyranny thrive best in an environment of repression while others thrive best in an environment of anarchy, but they're all red in tooth and claw.

On a more immediate level, "Way upstream" contains a useful warning about knowledge equalling power. The people travelling on the boat fall under the intruder's spell mainly because they themselves are extremely bad at steering, to the point where they can't even navigate a lock safely. Their helplessness is further compounded by the intruder's deliberate destruction of a crucial instruction manual. There's a lesson here for everyone who wants to embark on an unusual expedition, be it a trip along Britain's waterways, a tour of French vineyards or a pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. See to it that you come well-prepared, both with regard to intellectual comprehension and with regard to technical skill, so that you won't have to rely on the first random passerby...

Memorable.

In which a mentally unbalanced man hijacks a passenger plane, dragging his frightened victims halfway across the globe.

The "peril in the sky" movies of the 1970's tend to follow strict conventions, as precise and meticulous as those involved in the arranging of a state banquet. "Skyjacked" is no exception to the rule, coming complete with a full set of genre-compliant tropes. Hence the presence of the heavily pregnant lady who goes into labor amidst general mayhem ; had the character been unavailable due to prior commitments, we might have seen a desperately ill patient waiting for an organ transplant or a cancer-riddled greybeard trying to last long enough to testify against the Mafia. Nobody well-acquainted with the genre will be surprised to learn that both the lady and her new-born child survive the whole ordeal, thanks mainly to the stalwart behavior of the other passengers and crew.

For viewers willing to accept these limitations, there's a lot to enjoy in "Skyjacked". The production budget was high and many of the scenes involving airports or airplanes impress through their beauty or realism. Charlton Heston delivers a good performance as the courageous captain who keeps his head amidst all the turmoil, but then, he was born in order to play square-jawed heroes such as these. While not particularly deep or insightful with regard to human psychology - again, this is par for the course - the movie does contain some imaginative finds. This is especially true of the occasions where the deluded viewpoint of the hijacker is shown. Near the end the man hopes for a warm welcome involving beaming generals, adoring journalists and an ecstatic public ; what he gets is a metaphorical noose tightening around his neck. The difference is poignant.

Sharp-eyed observers will notice that "Skyjacked" dates back to a time when air travel was far more relaxed and relaxing with regard to safety measures. The movie also dates back to a time when the name "Boeing" was a synonym for reliability, dependability and craftsmanship. Standing in front of a Boeing one felt instinctively that this was a machine that would carry one safely across the world, if needs be from the North Pole to the Sahara. Aah, well, there's this lovely work by James Ensor called "Spent perfumes, faded flowers"...

Having lost their mother, two brothers and one sister go through a very difficult time. An aunt shows up in order to do some prime mothering, but her efforts turn out to be exhausting rather than comforting. But wait, what is this strange firm promising to deliver a grandma robot ?

"The electric grandmother" is based on the Grandma story from Ray Bradbury's "I sing the body electric". Deliberately made for a young public, it is a fairly accurate adaptation, though not a deep one. A number of details will be sure to strike the imagination of the young, such as the sight of a grandma robot pouring a variety of beverages (tea, fruit juice, water and such) from a tap hidden within a hand. Another detail that's sure to strike the imagination is the sight of the selfsame robot arriving in a pseudo-Egyptian sarcophagus, complete with wrappings and ceremonial mask. Whether the movie will cause its target audience to reflect on the deeper issues surrounding the use of robot servants or even robot relatives, is very much the question.

Arguably "The electric grandmother" works best as some kind of fable or parable about the shortness of life and the fragility of the aged. In the movie as in the source story, emphasis is laid on the fact that both people in the morning of life and people in the evening of life need extra care and support. (Sadly the expression "senex bis puer" didn't come out of nowhere.) Bradbury also points out, again rightfully so, that the adult years seem to pass in the twinkling of an eye, compared to the near-endless stretch of childhood. Moreover, it's childhood that induces the most vibrant, the most formative and the most durable of memories. It is easy to find a seventy-year-old man who has forgotten the name of his current neighborhood grocer ; it is more difficult to find a seventy-year-old man who has forgotten the name of the neighborhood grocer he went to when small.

Adult viewers will probably find themselves wondering whether they would entrust their offspring to robot caregivers. Opinions will vary but me, I'd rather saw off my own feet, unless this were the only survival-ensuring option in some cataclysmic scenario. (Think of "a handful of survivors after a nuclear war" or "sole inhabitants of an isolated space station".) Where robot caregivers are concerned, two possibilities arise : either the robot is capable of genuine feeling and then you've got problems of type A, or else the robot is incapable of genuine feeling and then you've got problems of type B. The unifying theme here is "problems".

And that's even without taking into account the risk that someone somewhere might want to hijack your artificial Mary Poppins. (Admittedly, this is more of a 2024 concern.) As a parent, you might have to do battle with a metal-and-plastic fury bombarding you with frozen turkeys, courtesy of some teenage hacker from New Delhi. Or what if your children were being filmed ten hours a day, for the benefit of a secretive group of gentlemen who like to watch images of unsuspecting minors ?

But I digress. From a technical point of view, the movie was made with appropriate care and skill. However, the passage of time seems to have caused some age-related deterioration, at least in the version I watched. Perhaps time for a careful restoration ?

Four men embark on a game of golf, divided into two rival teams. As the competition heats up, unpleasant secrets and unseemly urges float to the surface. Gradually a posh and well-maintained golf course turns into a Medieval field of tournament...

A cleverly written black comedy, "Holed" is characterized by a gradual darkening of the tone. The movie begins as a light-hearted comedy about the wee foibles of golfers, before embarking on an examination of far more dangerous forms of cheating, bullying and peacocking. Near the end the various undercurrents uniting or dividing the four men will lead to bloodshed.

Short and concise, "Holed" does not outstay its welcome. The four protagonists all do well, which is a feat worth mentioning since this blend of the silly, the sinister and the surreal is rather difficult to pull off. Special praise should be given to the costumes and props, many of which illustrate the thundering ghastliness of a certain type of Homo ludens.

Peculiar but compelling.

Angered by another driver's dangerous manoeuvre, a normally mild-mannered maths teacher sets out in order to give the culprit an earful. His search leads him to an isolated mansion, where some kind of all-male meeting is going on. The meeting takes a violently unexpected turn...

"Run a crooked mile" starts from a classic thriller premise : a random citizen witnesses a crime, warns the police and stirs up a hornet's nest in the process. The result being aimed at is a lighthearted mix of mystery thriller and adventure with comedic accents, à la "North by northwest". Sadly, the director here is not named Alfred Hitchcock.

But in fairness the intrigue of "Run a crooked mile" would tax the genius of even a Hitchcock, since it involves a very very very improbable amnesia-related development. As a result much of the movie's success (or lack of it) will depend on the viewer's willingness to suspend disbelief. Speaking for myself, I had a though time wrapping my head around the idea of a ruthless organization allowing a witness not only to live, but to flourish and to become a minor celebrity. Which criminal would want to run the risk of being exposed by a socialite with access to money, to well-heeled friends and to the press ?

I also need to point out that the romantic duo formed by Louis Jordan and Mary Tyler Moore is less than convincing. The pair have zero chemistry, to the point where you expect Mrs. Tyler Moore to say "Fresh !" while slapping away an offending hand.

For the rest I can't say that "Run a crooked mile" is badly made ; it's just the plot that's too improbable. The work deserves at least some stars for its fine cast, its attractive music and its beautiful locations. Moreover, there's a clever inversion of the traditional hardscrabble-but-honest-private-eye trope. Here you get something completely different...