Dollhouse Renewed

After being in Devon for a week, I didn't have a chance to watch the Dollhouse finale until yesterday and then I wake up this morning to find that the show, previously thought to be dead in the water, has been renewed by Fox for a second season.  The surprise move by the network that previously cancelled Firefly is supposed to have come because of the strong online viewing figures and the hoped-for strong DVD figures.  The series is set to return in the autumn with a thirteen episode run, each of which will be cut down to 42 minutes rather than the slightly longer episodes in series 1.  This is said to be one of the ways in which Joss Whedon will be reducing costs on the show, although there's whisperings that some of the cast might be axed.  Please not Sierra.  Or Victor.  Or Adelle.  Or Whisky.  Especially not Whisky because I don't think I can stomach TV without Amy Acker in it.

So Episode 12.  The final episode unless we're counting Epitaph One, the post-apocalyptic "coda" episode that will only be available on DVD.  Bloody good wasn't it?  I had a few minor quibbles.  Mainly Alan Tudyk, who I love and adore and was so good in the previous episode, didn't really shine here.  After all the build-up to Alpha, now we finally get to meet him he's not as fun to watch as I'd hoped he would be.  That final chase sequence, with Alpha dangling Caroline's identity "wedge" over a railing and her chasing up the stairs to catch him wasn't really dynamic enough and was poorly directed.

These two episode aside, this was a stellar episode and it does now feel that we're nearly there, that Dollhouse has almost fulfilled its early potential.  I've been championing Eliza throughout the show's run, although a lot of critics have pointed out what they believe to be her limited acting abilities.  What's thrown people is that the show's concept seems to offer an acting showcase for one actress when, as the past six episodes have shown, Dollhouse is much more of an ensemble piece.  There have also been precious few "actorish" moments, y'know, all the tears and drama stuff that you might expect from a show where the supposed lead plays a different character week in and week out.  She's been quietly convincing in every episode, particular as the blind woman in True Believer, Patton Oswald's dead wife in Man On The Street and as a middle-aged woman in Haunted.  One of the show's major story arcs has been the derailment of nearly all of Echo's assignment.  She doesn't get the fun Alias moments like Sierra, or the suave James Bond-ish moments like Victor in A Spy In The House Of Love.  I digress.  Anyway, Eliza's great.

The finale also did a good job of tying up loose ends whilst also creating new stories and rearranging its story elements to a sufficient degree to make us want to know what happens next, much like Angel did at the end of season 4 with Home.  One thing that I'm thankful for is that Paul Ballard seems assimilated into the Dollhouse.  His hunt for the Dollhouse was beginning to get tiresome and at least now he's inside, he can have relationships with characters other than November.  We've also got a sentient Doll, Whisky.  I was intrigued by her statement "I know who I am", her decision not to look at who she was before she entered the Dollhouse and her question to Topher, "Why was it important that I hate you?"

Other things that were generally awesome:

Composite Echo.  The moment when we witness all of Echo's previous personalities assimilating was a big pay-off to all of the procedural episode we had to slog through at the start of the season.

Sierra coming onto Paul Ballard.  Big lulz there.

Ballard's sacrifice for November.  This was perhaps the first moment in the entire run where I was genuinely moved and who else was expecting him to save Caroline?  The use of Beck's cover of Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometimes, was a nice touch.

"I'm not anyone because I am everyone."

Nine Trailer Now Up

The trailer for Rob Marshall's new musical Nine is now available and, boy, does it look exciting. I'm not familiar with the Broadway show, being British and all, but the 2003 revival starred Antonio Banderas (never really done it for me) and Jane Krakowski (who: LOVE). The trailer doesn't really tell you what the film's about, only that there's lots of glitter, singing, pretty ladies and Daniel Day Lewis being sprightly.



The ensemble cast include - hold your breath - Nicole Kidman, Daniel Day Lewis, Penelope Cruz, Judi Dench, Marion Cotillard, Fergie and Kate Hudson. Pretty amazing, huh? If you discount Fergie. Although I quite liked her in Planet Terror...maybe she'll surprise? She looks dog rough here though, that's for sure. From the look of the trailer, the emphasis will be on Day Lewis, but I hope Nicole gets a look-in. She badly needs a hit. I can't remember the last commercially successful movie she was in. Maybe The Golden Compass? Even that wasn't successful enough for a sequel (read: FAIL).

I'm not hugely enamoured by Rob Marshall though. Chicago always seemed very by-numbers to me and I'm still not entirely sure how he managed to turn Memoirs Of A Geisha into such a borefest. Regardless. There's singing, and actresses being all throaty, crying and shit. I'm in.

Jennifer Jason Leigh

I was reading a review of Charlie Kaufman's first film as writer/director, Synechdoche New York (which I'm glad is spelt phonetically on the posters because otherwise I'd be a wee bit unsure how to pronounce) and saw Jennifer Jason Leigh among the credited cast. Then I though, where has she gone to? Is she busy mothering her babies with Noah Baumbach in what one can only hope is a better environment than what we're led to believe Daddy Baumbach grew up with? Does Hollywood not want her anymore? Is it her age (47)?

After an eye-catching, body-ripping turn in road movie-cum-horror classic The Hitcher in 1985, Jennifer clocked up a string of critical and commercial successes in the early 90s. Roles as diverse as prostitute Tralala in Last Exit To Brooklyn, as writer and poet Dorothy Parker in Mrs. Parker and the Vicious Circle and psychotic roommate Hedy Carlson in Single White Female showed her range. She also got to work with some on the 90s most respected auteurs, Robert Altman in Short Cuts and Kansas City, the Coen brothers in The Hudsucker Proxy and David Cronenburg in eXistenZ. Possibly my favourite JJL performance, and one that seems to have passed a lot of people by, is the emotionally scarred Selena St. George in Dolores Claiborne, easily one of the best Stephen King adaptations and featuring a trio of fantastic female performances from Leigh, Kathy Bates and Judy Parfitt.

So what happened? She didn't exactly disappear off the face of the earth, but after The Anniversary Party (a film she wrote and directed with friend Alan Cumming) met to a mixed reception in 2001, JJL seems to have been offered smaller and smaller roles, despite the fact that she's a proven leading lady and a talented character actor. Her supporting roles in the 00s have been unfortunate, collaborations with good directors who pick Leigh to star in a not-terribly-good film. Small roles in Road To Perdition (I know there are plenty of admirers out there but Paul Newman and Conrad Hall's cinematography aside, I found this a particularly vacuous movie), In The Cut and Palindromes went largely unnoticed. Likewise, JJL's performances in independent films The Machinest and The Jacket were ignored, with most of the attention going to Christian Bale's emaciated lead and a confusing, twisty plot respectively. Both Brad Anderson, director of The Machinest, and John Maybury, director of The Jacket, has produced fine, interesting work previously, notably Love Is The Devil, so it's easy to see why Leigh chose to work with them. But something didn't click.

Likewise, her return to leading lady, alongside Nicole Kidman in Margot At The Wedding (directed by her husband Noah Baumbach), didn't quite meet expectations. Both Kidman and Leigh are on fine form, but Jack Black is hopelessly miscast as Leigh's dopish husband, and the dialogue feels too arch, the family dynamics too fucked and the characters even more unlikeable than in Baumbach's previous film The Squid And The Whale. Not that any of these things are necessarily indicative of a poor film, but they might go some way to explain its poor performance at the box office and the lack of award nominations.

According to Wikipedia, Leigh has turned down an impressive selection of roles, including sex, lies and videotape, Pretty Woman, Boogie Nights and LA Confidential. She was also considered for the role of Catwoman in Batman Returns, Ada McGrath in The Piano and Sarah Connor in The Terminator. Any one of these films could've consolidated her fame and given her the star quality that she clearly deserves but perhaps doesn't want or need.

The Night Listener

A turgid thriller based on a potentially fascinating story. Adapted from Amistead Maupin's autobiographical novel of the same name, The Night Listener tells of a gay radio broadcaster, Gabriel Noone (Robin Williams), who is sent a disturbing memoir. It tells of the extensive sexual abuse suffered by Peter Logand (Rory Culkin), a fourteen year-old boy with AIDS now living with a social worker, Donna (Toni Collette). Gabriel begins to talk to Peter over the phone and quickly becomes attached to the boy and to his tragic story, and the relationship takes on a creepy co-dependent air in the wake of Gabriel's long-term boyfriend Jess (HIV-positive and intent on living his life to the full) moving out of the house. When Jess notices the similarity between Peter's voice and Donna's, and when it transpires that nobody besides Donna has ever seen Peter, Gabriel becomes suspicious.

In spite of its interesting subject matter, Patrick Stettner's film is almost a complete failure. Anyone who is familiar with the real-life story upon which this is based or has simply seen the trailer will hardly be surprised by the "twist" in the story. This wouldn't be a problem if The Night Listener had anything else to say but any commentary on the nature of the relationship between Gabriel and Peter is lost in a half-baked thriller that doesn't go anywhere. Robin Williams delivers a restrained performance but the usually reliable Toni Collette hams it up something awful. Flat, dull and, in the end, rather pointless.

Forgetting Sarah Marshall

Another funny, slightly overlong, sentimental-in-a-good-way film from the Judd Apatow stable.  Peter (Jason Segal) is dumped, whilst naked, by his TV star girlfriend Sarah Marshall (Kristen Bell).  A vacation in Hawaii that is supposed to take his mind off the break-up starts badly when it transpires that Sarah is staying at the same hotel with her new boyfriend, rock star Aldous Snow (Russell Brand).

Although Judd Apatow only shares a producer's credit on Forgetting Sarah Marshall, his influence is palpable.  Like Knocked Up and Superbad, this is less of a comedy and more a drama about a slacker-type twentysomething growing up.  Writer and star Jason Segal has created a well-rounded, oddly likeable character in Peter, who may be self-pitying and unmotivated but at least he's a nice enough guy.  It's a pity then that the female parts are written in such broad strokes.  Unlike Alison in Knocked Up, we're not meant to see Sarah as a responsible, intelligent counterpoint to Peter.  Instead, we're encouraged to see her as the needy girlfriend who doesn't appreciate Peter's support when she has it but is ready to fall back into his arms when it all goes tits up with her next boyfriend.  The real object of Peter's affection turns out to be Rachel (Mila Kunis), the kind of free-thinking, sympathetic ideal girlfriend we've been seeing in movies ever since Natalie Portman listened to The Shins in Garden State.  Whilst both Bell and Kunis make the most of their material, the accusations of misogyny that have been levelled at Apatow's previous productions in the past are pretty hard to deny here.

That isn't to say there aren't any laughs, although these mostly come from the stellar supporting cast, particularly Paul Rudd as a dim-witted surf instructor.  Forgetting Sarah Marshall is an aimiable, ambling comedy that has plenty of big laughs in it.  It's just a shame that it doesn't have the emotional weight of its predecessors.

News and Linkage

Season 3  of Mad Men will be premiere on August 16th in the States, with production beginning yesterday.  Excitement.  Overload.

Fox has picked up JJ Abrams' Fringe for a second season.  This comes as no surprise since it was the second-highest rating new show in 2008-9 behind The Mentalist.

There's a really interesting interview with Mad Men creator Matthew Weiner in Israeli newspaper Ha'aretz.

No news yet on whether Dollhouse is going to picked up for a second season, although it seems unlikely at this point given its poor ratings.  Here's an interview with TV Guide's Matthew Roush that helps explain some of the reasons why the show might not have been successful.

Here's an early review for Sarah Michelle Gellar's new TV show, The Wonderful Maladys.  I'm officially excited now.

Rather belatedly, here's the trailer for Emma Caulfield's new romantic comedy TiMER:

The Ruins

A nasty little film, Carter Smith's The Ruins has several similarities to David Cronenburg's early body horror titles.  Two young American couples are taking a holiday in Mexico when, on their final day, they meet a German tourist, Mathius, who posseses a map that will lead them to a Mayan temple where his brother, an architect, is working.   When the group arrives at the temple they find it covered in vines and surrounded by Mayan villagers who won't let them leave.  It soon becomes apparent that the reason for this is that they are scared of the vines themselves, underneath which Mathius finds the remains of his brother.

The concept sounds silly but, wisely, it's played completely straight.  It's a deft mixture of survival and body horror, mostly playing on the fear of penetration (the vines enters mouths and open wounds, insiduating themselves into their hosts' bodies).  The first half of the movie is concerned with the group's dynamics, as they bicker amongst each other, trying to think up an escape plan.  Like most horror films, the eventual fate of the protagonists is as much decided by their own mistakes as by the more obvious threat.  A little bit more time spent focusing on the dynamics of the friendship group before they entered the ruins would've been welcome, as this would have created a better pay-off later on.  However, the performances (led by the willowy Jena Malone) are strong and the gorey bits are sufficiently stomach-churning.

Lakeview Terrace

A so-so throwback to the kind of "yuppies in peril" movies that were popular in the early 90s.  Chris and Lisa Mattson (Patrick Wilson and Kerry Washington) are a young interacial couple who have just moved into their first property on the seemingly serene Lakeview Terrace.  They soon receive the attention of Abel Turner (Samuel L. Jackson), an LAPD officer who has very fixed views on interacial couples, especially when his two kids peek into their neighbours' backyard to see Chris and Lisa having sex in the pool.  Tensions escalate in a believable fashion.  From Abel's security lights that keep the Mattsons awake at night, to an uncomfortable housewarming party and some barbed conversation about the rap music that Chris listens to and the cigarettes that he hides from his wife, all of these confrontations are scary because they feel like they could happen.

Things fall apart in the final act, where Abel's behaviour is explained simplistically and the movie veers into more obvious thriller territory.  Director Neil LaBute is also fond of some rather obvious metaphors, most notable the bush fires that are constantly raging in the background, threatening to destroy the suburbs where Chris and Lisa have made their home.  What's most frustrating, however, is that evidence of a more intelligent film exists here.  Lakeview Terrace flirts with ideas of boundaries (both social and political) and the screenplay does offer some interesting views on racial tensions in the 21st-century.  Jackson offers up a fierce performance, but you can't help but feel that we've seen it all before.  Both Wilson and Washington are impressive but are given precious little to work with.  An intriguing thriller, all the more irritating because it could have been so much better.

Bolt

Ever since Lilo And Stitch, Disney has steadily produced a long list of disappointing films, from Brother Bear to Chicken Little, whilst Pixar was making qualtiy family entertainment such as The Incredibles and Finding Nemo.  The quality of every Western animated movie is measured against that of Pixar's output and finally Disney has come up with something that comes close to delivering the goods.  Bolt (John Travolta) is the adorable canine star of his own TV series, where he's gifted with powers such as laser eyes and a "super bark".  In order to ennsure a realistic performance from Bolt, the TV studio go to great lengths to keep him convinced that he's a real-life super dog.  When Bolt escapes the studio and is mistakenly packed off to New York City, he must find a way back to Hollywood and his owner/co-star Penny (Miley Cyrus) without the aid of his superpowers.

On his journey across America, Bolt meets up with a wisecracking alleycat, Mittens (Susie Essman), and Rhino (Mark Walton), a hamster who also happens to be a big fan of Bolt's TV show.  One of the best things about this movie is that all of the characters are so fully realised, funny, just the right side of cute and performed energetically.  Even the human characters are well-rounded, which is rare for films concerning animals.  The influence of Pixar may loom large (Bolt's story arc isn't dissimilar to Buzz Lightyear's in the first Toy Story film) but, unlike recent Disney efforts like Chicken Little, this never feels like it's trying to hard to be hip.  It's good, simple storytelling.  The action sequences are fun and exciting, the relationship between Bolt and Mittens genuinely touching.  There are no surprises here but this is solid, well-crafted entertainment.

Milk

After four loose, experimental films (Gerry, Elephant, Last Days, Paranoid Park), Gus Van Sant makes a return for the mainstream with his biopic of Harvey Milk, the first openly gay man to be elected to public office in the US.  As biopics go it's fairly conventional, detailing Harvey's move to San Francisco, his battle for gay rights, eventual election and assassination.

Despite this conventionality, it's an expertly crafted film.  Van Sant uses real news footage and grainy camerawork to create a verité feel to the endeavour and Dustin Lance Black's empathic screenplay is structured so as to ensure that the audience feels the momentum of Milk's campaign.  Much has been made of Sean Penn's nuanced lead performance, but he's aided by one of 2008's most impressive ensemble casts.  Josh Brolin, rounding out a stellar year after No Country For Old Men and W., plays Supervisor Dan White and brings real pathos to a difficult role.  James Franco is beautiful, heartbreaking even, as Milk's long-term boyfriend Scotty and Emile Hirsch give yet another brilliantly realised turn as Cleve Jones, a young runaway who finds drive and purpose in Milk's campaign for equal rights.

Several negative reviews have pointed to the fact that Gus Van Sant seems to reluctant to acknowledge Milk's promiscuity, since the film alludes to only two relationships, with Scotty and, later, with Mexican Jack Lira (played with maniacal energy by Diego Luna).  Yet a catelogue of Milk's hook-ups would, I think, have distracted from the main narrative drive and made for a much more scattershot production.  As it is, Gus Van Sant's return to mainstream cinema is an unmitigated success.  The parallels between California reinstituting Proposition 8 today and Milk's own battle against Proposition 6, an initiative that sought to prohobit all gay men and women (and those that supported them) from working in public schools, are obvious.  Indeed, Dustin Lance Black's moving speech at this year's Oscars as he accepted his award for Best Original Screenplay showed how timely the movie's release was.

Where Are They Now? Part 1

It's been 5 years since Buffy The Vampire Slayer left our TV screens. The cast have had varied degrees of success but what have they got in the pipeline as we speak?

Sarah Michelle Gellar

After a string of so-so horror movies such as The Grudge and The Return, Sarah Michelle Gellar has a different film due out later in the year. Her new role, in Paul Coehlo adaptation Veronika Decides To Die (trailer below), looks like it plays to her strengths, i.e. sad and lonely, rather than scared or ditzy. SMG will also be returning to the small screen sometime next year in The Wonderful Maladys, a new dysfunctional family drama for HBO. An early reviewer of the pilot script claims it's the best thing they've read in years.

Role Models

Very funny comedy about two thirtysomethings, Danny (Paul Rudd) and Wheeler (Sean William Scott), who are court ordered to work for a big-brother-type charity called Sturdy Wings after running their truck into a school building and obstructing a police officer. Danny, recently dumped by his attorney girlfriend Beth (Elizabeth Banks) for his negative attitude, is given Augie (Christopher Mintz-Plasse), a role-playing enthusiast with unsupportive parents. Wheeler is given a ten year-old, Ronnie (Bobb'e J. Thompson), with a particularly foul mouth.

Role Models has the feel of a Judd Apatow comedy in that it successfully mixes vulgarity with sentiment. There might be no surprises here but almost every joke here sticks. After giving scene-stealing performances in everything from Knocked Up to Anchorman, Rudd finally lands his first leading role. He is, unsurprisngly, excellent, affable, amusing, but so is everyone here. Following on from his engimatic performance in Southland Tales, Sean William Scott shows that he's more than capable of restraint. Jane Lynch, as the former cokehead founder of Sturdy Wings, is priceless and gets most of the movie's laughs. Mintz-Plasse's Augie is the film's heart, offering Danny an opportunity to see his own life differently. Yes, it's predictable, corny even, but by the time director David Wain cranks out ELO over a montage of Danny and Wheeler enjoying themselves with the kids all of your cynicism will have disappeared.

Red Sorghum

A masterful 1930s-set debut from Zhang Yimou also featuring the first performance from his muse Gong Li. On the way to meet her new husband, a leper, a young woman is seduced by one of the servants carrying her sedan. After the mysterious death of her husband, the woman takes over his winery and enters a relationship with the servant. The optimism of the film's first half is nicely counterbalanced by the film's sudden shift into a more tragic register when the Japanese invade.

This is an examplary examination of peasant life in China during the 30s and features a typically radiant performance from Gong Li. As with his later films, former cinematographer Zhang makes expressive use of colour here, in particular a couple of beautiful sunsets. Above anything else it's a story of resilience. No-one attempts to understand or explain the barbarism of the Japanese invasion, they react in the only way that feels appropriate. This is a bold, striking movie that shows both director and muse firing on all cylinders.

The House Bunny

Fluffy comedy about a Playboy bunny, Shelley (Anna Faris), who's unceremoniusly kicked out of the Playboy Mansion for being too old. 27 is "like 59 in bunny years", so we're told. Homeless and alone, Shelley stumbles onto a college campus and becomes the sorority mother to a group of misfits (short girl, fat girl, girl with piercings, pregnant girl and girl with glasses are all covered). The girls need 30 pledges to their sorority house if they don't want to be turfed out and Shelley convinces them that she can help. Her mixture of enthusiasm, hair straighteners and pastel-coloured clothing help win the girls popularity but is a new wardrobe and attention from the opposite sex really what they want?

There's an interesting movie here...somewhere. Rather than present a good looks and popularity vs. intelligence and integrity dichotomy, The House Bunny settles for an uneasy middle ground. In this respect it treads similar ground to Mean Girls, although it's nowhere near as clever. Indeed, nearly all of the laughs come from Anna Faris' inspired redefinition of the dumbe blonde. She's a marvellous comic presence in need of a better movie. Subplots involving a conspiracy inside the Playboy mansion and a romance with Colin Hanks' drippy Oliver don't go anywhere and the influence of Adam Sandler (the movie was produced by Happy Madison productions) hangs heavy over several scenes. This has a few funny moments and is worth seeing for Faris alone, but it's no Legally Blonde.

Cannes Line-Up

It's Auteur Heavyweight Heaven at Cannes this year, with the likes of Michael Haneke, Park Chan-Wook, Lars Von Trier, Pedro Almodovar, Jane Campion and Ang Lee all up against each other. Here's a full line-up of what will be playing at the festival in May.

Opening Film:

Up (dir. Pete Docter and Bob Peterson). Pixar's latest about a 78 year-old man who ties a bunch of balloons to his house and flies to South America, accompanied by an earnest eight year-old who stows along for the ride. Surely one of the most reliable production companies, Pixar are good at turning strange-sounding concepts into cinematic gold.

Closing Film:

Coco Avant Chanel (dir. Anne Fontaine). Biopic of the French fashion designer, starring Audrey Tatou in the lead role. It's nice to see Tatou nab a juicy role as ever since her star-making performance in Amélie, she's struggled to really make much of a mark, which is a pity to anyone who saw her troubling performance in Stephen Frears' Dirty Pretty Things.

In Competition:

Bright Star (dir. Jane Campion). Another biopic, but this time a more focused one. Campion's film will concentrate on the final three years of John Keats' (Ben Whishaw) life and his romance with Fanny Browne (Abby Cornish). Campion previously won the Palme D'Or for The Piano, and although she's been a bit hit-and-miss since then, she's consistently made interesting, challenging movies. Both Whishaw and Cornish have enjoyed Next Big Thing status for some time now; it's be nice to see them break out.

Spring Fever (dir. Lou Ye). Don't know much about this. He's played at Cannes before and is no stranger to controversy. His last film, Summer Palace, a romance set during the time of the Tiananmen Square protests of 1989, saw him receive a five year ban on filmmaking from the Chinese government.

Antichrist (dir. Lars Von Trier). Willem Defoe stars as a psychologist who takes Charlotte Gainsbourg into a cabin in the woods where spooky things start happening. Billed as a horror film, anyone who's seen the trailer can testify that this looks distinctly bizarre (hopefully in a good way). Trier has his detractors - he can certainly be heavy-handed sometimes - but a return to the same area he pursued in his miniseries The Kingdom has got a lot of people interested.

Enter The Void (Gaspar Noé). Another controversial figure but one that I feel doesn't have much to back it up with. His last film Irreversible, with its brutal eight-minute rape scene, was, to this viewer at least, obvious, almost completely lacking in intelligence and slammed its point home with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. There are plenty of admirers though so maybe this will do well.

Face (dir. Tsai Ming-liang). Malaysian-born Chinese director whose last film, I Don't Want To Sleep Alone, I've been wanting to see for ages (primarily 'cause I love the title but also because the front of the DVD showed people having cuddles). The plot concerns a Taiwanese film director who travels to Paris to shoot a new film about the Salomé myth. Previously won the Golden Lion at Venice for Vive L'Amour in 1994.

Les Herbes Folles (dir. Alain Resnais). New film from the French New Wave director. My "extensive" search of the internet, which basically includes wikipedia and imdb doesn't give much info apart from much-respected director blah blah blah.

In The Beginning (dir. Xavier Giannoli). From the director of The Singer, which did very well at the Césars a couple of years ago. This new film, again, stars Gérard Depardieu, who I've never had much love for but can never put my finger on exactly why that is.

A Prophet (dir. Jacques Audiard). From the director of The Beat That My Heart Skipped, which did good business and won a fair amount of international awards, including a BAFTA for Best Film Not In The English Language. I admired the movie rather than truly liked it - the interplay between violence and art was much better examined in Haneke's The Piano Teacher in my opinion, but it did boast a firecracker of a performance from the not-ugly Romain Duris.

The White Ribbon (dir. Michael Haneke). Bloody love Haneke. He's probably one of the most interesting directors working at the moment, although his own remake of Funny Games into English didn't exactly receive glowing reviews. Set in Germany in 1913, this is said to explore the evolution of fascism. Definitely looking forward to this one.

Vengeance (dir. Johnnie To). Thriller from a prolific Hong Kong director. When a hit man for an organised crime syndicate is suspected of being a double agent for the FBI, a kill order is placed, but the hit man survives the attempt on his life.

The Time That Remains (dir. Elia Suleiman). Palestinian-Israeli director who won the Jury Prize at Cannes in 2002 for Divine Intevention. His new film is described by imdb as "An examination of the creation of the state of Israel in 1948 through to the present day".

Vincere (dir. Marco Bellocchio). Italian movie about Mussolini's secret lover and their son Albino.

Kinatay (dir. Brillante Mendoza). Filipino film of which I know nothing.

Thirst (Park Chan-Wook). The Korean director of the excellent Vengeance trilogy has followed up with a vampire movie. The trailer makes it look immense and after the success of Let The Right One In, bleak films about bloodsuckers definitely have an audience. After an onslaught of American remakes of great Asian horror flicks, I'm hoping that Park Chan-Wook can show everybody how it's really done.

Broken Embraces (dir. Pedro Almodóvar). Always a winner, Almodóvar is reteaming with Penelope Cruz for his latest film, which debuted in Spain a month or so ago. Time Out has a positive review if you're interested, which claims this to be more of an ilk with Bad Education than Volver. This might prove difficult, as international audiences have tended to prefer Almodóvar's human dramas such as Talk To Her more than the Hitchcockian gayness of Bad Education, but I loved the latter so will be looking forward to this.

Maps Of The Sounds Of Tokyo (dir. Isabel Coixet). Another Spanish director, whose last film, Elegy, was almost universally panned. However, anyone who saw her low-key movie My Life Without Me starring the always-reliable Sarah Polley and Mark Ruffalo will surely be keen to see if she can pull another gem out of her hat. Maps Of The Sounds Of Tokyo is a thriller, centered on a contract killer who also moonlights as an employee at a fish market.

Fish Tank (dir. Andrea Arnold). Second feature from the director of Red Road, which I thought was good but over-hyped, although her eye for the grittier side of suburbia is certainly impressive. This new film focuses on a fifteen year-old girl trying to come to terms with her mum's new boyfriend. It stars Michael Fassbender, an actor who is everywhere all of a sudden, and rightly so. This follows on from starring turns in Angel, Hunger and Eden Lake, all in which Fassbender displayed impressive versatility. Rising star + rising director could = win.

Looking For Eric (dir. Ken Loach). Surely the strangest-sounding film on the list, at least on paper. It concerns the friendship between a postman and Eric Cantona. Loach won the Palme D'Or for the ridiculously overrated The Wind That Shakes The Barley but I can't see a movie about a well-known football player doing well at Cannes. Maybe I'm wrong though.

Inglourious Basterds (dir. Quentin Tarantino). The amusing/irritating trailer doing the rounds suggest that Tarantino is still going down the Kill Bill/Death Proof route of tongue-in-cheek, intentionally offensive homage to the movies of his youth. Those that love him (and I'm one of those people) will probably love this, but it's got an unusually starry cast for a Tarantino film. Okay, so it's got Brad Pitt, but that is a wee bit odd isn't it? I like Brad Pitt as much as the next homosexual man who saw Thelma and Louise but he's not given a particularly impressive performance in anything for about ten years.

Taking Woodstock (dir. Ang Lee). I'd walk over hot coals for Ang Lee and was wet with anticipation about his new film concerning the origins of Woodstock. Starring an unknown actor in the lead role (Elliot Tiber) has worked wonders before (look at Tang Wei's phenomenal performance in Lust, Caution) and the supporting cast includes Liev Schrieber, Imelda Staunton and Emile Hirsch. Big love for Emile Hirsch. Then I saw the trailer, which is quite possibly one of the most revolting trailers I've ever seen. Horrible. But, The Hulk notwithstanding, Ang Lee has produced one of the most consistent body of films of any director working today. I hope this lives up to the promise.

Out Of Competition:

The Imaginarium Of Doctor Parnassus (dir. Terry Gilliam). This will get less attention because it's a Terry Gilliam film than that it's the last film made by Heath Ledger. The story, involving a travelling theatre group that allows its audience members to enter their own imaginations through a magic mirror sounds a real treat. Jude Law, Colin Farrell and Johnny Depp will all be playing incarnations of Ledger's character.

The Army Of Crime (dir. Robert Guédiguian). French film starring Virginie Ledoyen, who for some reason I really like, although I'm not exactly sure why. A supporting performance in The Beach and a L'Oreal advert really shouldn't be doing it for me.

Agora (dir. Alejandro Amenábar). This is Amenábar's second English-language movie after The Others, and his last movie, the Javier Bardem-starring The Sea Inside, was well liked so this could get a pretty decent reception. The plot concerns an Egyptian slave (Max Minghella) who falls in love with his mistress, Hypatia of Alexandra (Rachel Weisz). Weisz is luminous, and needs a hit after husband Darren Aronofsky's ridiculous The Fountain. Also, Minghella was hyped to the max about a year ago and then pretty much disappeared. Never seen him in anything but surely pretending that you fall in love with Rachel Weisz can't be much of a stretch for anyone.

Romantic Serial Killer

Although it's got no release date over here yet, Julie Delpy's new film The Countess certainly looks interesting. Billed as a biopic of famed serial killer Elizabeth Bathory, who supposedly bathed in the blood of virgins in an attempt to look young, the trailer makes it seem like a gothic romance. We don't get to see any actual murders, just a rather chaste-seeming affair between Delpy and Daniel Brühl. Could be interesting, although I'm unsure that the "a Julie Delpy film" at the end of the trailer is really warranted. This is only her second feature length film as a director and much as I liked 2 Days In Paris, it seemed impossible to separate from Before Sunrise/Sunset. I'm intrigued by the international cast. Everyone loves William Hurt and after her affecting performance in 4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days, I'm excited to see Anamaria Marinca in something else.

Anyway, here's the trailer...

State Of Play

Confidently-mounted conspiracy thriller adapted from Paul Abbott's miniseries and relocated to Washington. When Congressman Stephen Collins' (Ben Affleck) mistress and research assistant Sonia Baker is found dead in an apparent suicide, his former college buddy Cal McAffrey (Russell Crowe), a grizzled reporter for The Washington Post investigates the circumstances of the death. Along with eager young reporter Della Frye (Rachel McAdams), Cal uncovers a link between Sonia's death and two other murders carried out the night before.

Whilst Kevin Macdonald's follow-up to The Last King Of Scotland doesn't offer any surprises, it delivers of almost every other level. A tight script, excellent cinematography and solid performances all help to make this a solid entry in a crowded genre. There were a few story elements that I'd have prefered to see teased out a little more: the differing reporting styles of oldschool McAffrey and earnest blogger Frye, the friendship between Collins and McAffrey. The score can also be, at times, a little over-insistent. These minor quibbles aside though, this is exciting, pacy stuff.

Doubt

John Patrick Shanley's serious adaptation of his Pulitzer Prize-winning play is a complex meditation on Catholic guilt that veers between being tense and compelling in certain scenes to po-faced and obvious in others. Set in a Catholic school in 1964, Sister Aloysius (Meryl Streep) suspects the friendly Father Flynn (Philip Seymour Hoffman) of sexually abusing Donald, a black altar boy. Acting on the shyly-voiced suspicions of the idealistic Sister James (Amy Adams), Aloysius attempts to hound Flynn out of the parish, insisting that she doesn't need proof, all she needs is her "certainty".

There's plenty to admire here but not an awful lot to love. What Doubt excels at is character motivation. We're not sure on why Aloysius pursues Flynn with such vigour or whether Flynn is guilty of what she accuses him of. There's one particularly memorable scene with Viola Davis as Donald's mother. To say any more would rob the scene of its dramatic impact but suffice to say that it's uncomfortable and provocative in the way that good cinema should be. Shanley's direction is unfussy but he's unable to overcome the stagey-ness of his central conceit, and is too reliant on metaphor to get his point across (the storm constantly raging outside, a lamb placed in a Nativity scene with an air of significance). He is, however, ably served by four actors all on the top of their game. Davis and Streep are especially electric, whilst Hoffman and Adams provide nuanced, intelligent riffs on similar roles in their back catelogue. It's a clever film but it's also one that is, for the most part, distant and emotionally uninvolving.

Death Proof

Gloriously offensive on almost every count, Tarantino's sixth film continues in the same vein as Kill Bill. Whilst the latter movie homaged Bruce Lee and Westerns, Death Proof plays as a violent, leery tribute to the grindhouse pictures of the 70s. The story is slim. Three nubile young women go out drinking, pursued by Kurt Russell's Stuntman Mike, an old dude with a "death proof" car that he uses to crash into cars full of pretty Southern gals. The same story is then played out again, only this time the girls fight back, eventually beating Stuntman Mike at his own game.

The dialogue couldn't have come from anyone other than Tarantino; it's sweary, sassy and full of pop culture references. The violence is, predictably, a mixture of the cartoonish and the gory, and the crash sequence in the film's mid-section is particularly shocking, even by QT's standards. Death Proof's mysogyny is underlined with tongue-in-cheek humour and larger-than-life turns from the likes of Rosario Dawson, Rose McGowan (especially memorable in a small supporting role) and real-life stuntwoman Zoe Bell. It's likely to offend several viewers and offers further proof that Tarantino is a one-trick pony, endlessly recycling old ideas and offering up sexism and hyper-violence as irony. However, the movie's sheer relentlessness, dynamic stunts, staccato dialogue and sense of unadulterated glee are often exhilirating and fans of Tarantino's previous films are sure to lap this up. As they should.

Slumdog Millionaire

Danny Boyle's assured adaptation of Vikas Swarup's Q & A is his best since Trainspotting. Dev Patel of Skins fame plays Jamal, a boy from the slums who wins the top prize of 20 million rupees on the Indian version of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire. The smarmy host, believing Jamal to have cheated, turns him over to the police, where he is tortured extensively before being given an opportunity to explain how he knows for the questions he was asked.

It's a solid concept from which to hang a movie, as we witness Jamal's difficult childhood living in the slums of Mumbai, his fractious relationship with brother Salim and love for his friend Latika. The choreography, editing and sound design are peerless, fully deserving of the various technical awards the film has won. It's a colourful, vibrant vision of India and one that doesn't shy away from the harsher realities of poverty, be it police brutality, prostitution or gang warfare. Broadly, Slumdog Millionaire could be said to be about the part that chance has to play in life, and how chance can sometimes present itself as something more profound. Whether you buy into this will depend upon how much you can stomach the finale's lurch into absurdly optimism as Jamal and Latika are reunited and the cast partake in an out-of-the-blue Bollywood-style dance number.

Thankfully, due to Simon Beaufoy's smart screenplay and some great performances from Boyle's young cast (Jamal, Salim and Latika are all played by three separate actors through their childhood and adolescense), the optimism on display in the film's final third feels grounded in the rest of the movie through Jamal's make-the-best-of-it attitude. Moving, lively cinema.