Reviews

A story with possibilities that fell flat. Whilst this film was nicely shot and had lovely cinematography, the story ended being more about "issues" than people. It was all covered - feminism, rape, sexual liberation, nihilism, lesbianism, children out of wedlock, the irrelevancy of faith and on and on... a kind of catalogue of the progress of Western European culture post-war. The characters in the movie were simply clothes horses to dress up in the issues. I felt nothing for the characters - they felt like cardboard cut outs.

I am not sure what it is that people like so much about this film. It was okay, but rather dull. I think I found the narrator of the story rather self-absorbed, and the telling of it by the director rather cliché and over-wrought. So it had this strange effect of being both over- and under- presented, leaving me with a bored detachment from what was happening on screen. Vikander had moments, but the rest of the cast was pretty well completely uninteresting.

I found this startling at the beginning - a musical about the impact on a community of five serial murders, consisting of dialogue taken from media interviews conducted with neighbours of the accused murderer. But as the film progressed I became intrigued and, quite surprisingly, moved by this unusual documentary. The actors (especially Olivia Coleman) got the lilt of the original dialogue just right, and the music brilliantly melded the rhythm and innate musicality of the language into a diverse range of songs of many musical genres. Most moving, I think, was the song of the streetwalkers who had been most impacted and most sidelined in this tragedy.

This story of Alicia, an adoptive mother's growing awareness of the wrongs that surrounded the surrendering of her daughter, and her tentative steps to find the girl's mother, is engrossing. The writing is great - all the dialogue rings true - and Norma Aleandro's performance is superb. Perhaps the greatest achievement for the director is the totally natural and engaging performance of little Analio Castro as Gaby, the adopted daughter; it reminded me of the performance of the children in Forbidden Games. This film is a great tribute to the mothers and grandmothers who formed the nucleus of the movement to discover what happened to the "disappeared" under the military junta that terrorised Argentina from 1976 to 1983.

Noyce's film has a stylish feel for the times, but no real sense of drama. His telling of the post-war history of the decline of the cinema movie reel because of the emergence of the daily news report on television had lots of good historical footage interspersed with his well-filmed and, generally, competently acted story. The problem was that he treated it as an opportunity to squeeze in as many historical references as possible. This left the development of the story to feel almost as though it was also a catalogue of events, each marked by a photo and year. It was a story with a number of tragic events, but no real emotional pull. I was disappointed.

It's hard to criticise a film that has such noble intentions. But what should have been a gripping story ended up being strangely emotionally a little flat. Danny Glover didn't really fill out his role adequately, and as his story is the central one, it was a little disappointing. Other performances were generally okay. The score by Horner was not his greatest, and seemed quite derivative of other composers. And way too often it sounded like an American score (all that brass!) Some of the cinematography was stunning.

A dawdling and self-indulgent effort from Leone. So patchy: some appalling performances and some good ones, dreadful writing and some great lines. Consistently great cinematography and loved the music (thanks Ennio).

Overall an unpleasant and unsatisfying story—the historical side was quite interesting, but the characterisation lacked any convicting power. Blood and sex was used in entirely exploitative ways. Could have been a great movie but ended up being very disappointing.

I came to this with high expectations, and ended feeling somewhat disappointed. Sure, the look was great (excellent camera work) and the music superb.

Joan Crawford was good for her part, but so much of her speech was exposition—not at all conversational or realistic.

Jack Carson and Eve Arden were scene-stealers whenever they were in shot—fantastic. The rest of the cast were wooden in their performances, almost reading their lines and so obviously "acting."

And the writing was a real disappointment. Take each conversation, and it's hard to believe that anyone would ever talk that way. Still, I've seen plenty worse! But it isn't really a movie that I would have any desire to revisit.

It might take an Italian background to appreciate this film. As a non-Italian viewer I found the humour (high farce) rather dull.

The film had almost no characterization, a rather muddy plot line and absolutely no emotional interest. I tuned out constantly, and was glad for distractions.

The third line of the anthology, about the sexual interest of a group of men in a young girl was particularly uncomfortable, with its pedophile themes, which Germi unpleasantly treated as though only humorous, not at all troubling.

The overall perspective was purely male — the women in the film were simply either objects of desire or impediments to desire's fulfillment.

I wouldn't bother watching this film again.

This film is a very touching story, told the point of view of an 8 year old boy whose father has returned to the family after World War 2. The boy has never met him, being born just after his father left. His mother has been waiting hopefully for the father's return.

But the reconciliation brings more tensions to their lives. The boy especially is confused, jealous, unhappy and troubled by the new situation. The film slowly and gently explores these developments and their resolution.

The color in the copy I watched was badly degraded, and this film really deserves restoration.

A young Japanese man, living with his mother and two sisters, falls into an aimless existence, unable to find a future for himself alone but unable also to throw off entirely his sense of obligation to society and family. He is a deeply unhappy person who comes under the influence of a wealthier and much more malign, possibly sociopathic young delinquent.

After seeing Kinoshita's "Twenty Four Eyes", I appreciated the much tauter pace of "The Rose on His Arm." In fact, the editing was so tight and the story telling so minimal that there were times when it seemed a little under-told. The cinematography was good, the jazz score excellent. I find Japanese acting in these earlier films to be "melodramatic"—but recognise that there are cultural elements at play here.

Watching a film like this, you realise that there are some issues that are trans-cultural, but that they also play out in a very culturally defined way. Watching this movie alongside Rebel Without A Cause is quite eye-opening. The parents all but disappear in RWAC, but here the relationship between the young man and his mother is the cornerstone of the movie.

This engaging movie is a mixed bag. There is the seed of a great movie to be made in this patchy one. The intriguing story of six women heading to the Russian front to rescue their teenage sons, who've run away from school to enlist for the Fatherland, deserves better telling. Some fine performances are mixed with some pretty dreadful ones. Some great lines are mixed with some dreadful clichés. The cinematography was superb throughout. The star performance is that of Therese Giehse. How did she not have a wider fame outside of Germany? Bernhard Wicki, who does pretty well, appears interestingly in the later movie, "Paris, Texas."

If you want either a primer into the experience of having ADHD or an endless advertisement for Lego toys, then this unmitigated piece of rubbish is for you.

From the opening onwards it is a series of visual and audio assaults on the viewer, with one demolition scene after another. It all felt the same after about fifteen minutes. Boringly the same.

Lots of reviewers have commented that it was very funny, but whatever humour was in it bypassed me. I barely smiled at anything in it. And I'm not normally the curmudgeon in the crowd.

Perhaps the nadir came when the human characters were introduced. Just in case we didn't quite get the heavy-handed messaging, we needed real humans to show us what it really looks like. And the message was simply philosophical romanticism married to pop psychology. Pleeeeaaaase can children be fed with something more helpful, if they have to be given these "moral lessons." If this movie was meant to recapture the pleasure of playing with Lego as a child, it didn't do it for me.

Three out of ten only because I've got to leave room for other even more dreadful flicks. One of which is most likely going to be Lego Movie 2 scheduled for 2018. Ugghhh...

This poorly directed, woodenly acted, cliché-scripted, musically over-scored film was worth at least four stars simply for the over the top performance of Jay Robinson as Caligula. He minced, posed and sneered magnificently! Clearly an inspiration for Dr Evil, and for the Romans in The Life of Brian (I was waiting for him to say, "Welease Woger!") The colour was often pretty great too, and had the feel of religious paintings.

It's a pity that this overly sentimental movie couldn't decide what it wanted to be: love story, religious inspiration, historical epic, or camp comedy! Poor directing and poor scripting really didn't give the actors much opportunity.

I did finish with a sense of gladness that the mini-toga has not resurfaced as a fashion item. Victor Mature looked decidedly uncomfortable in his.

Peter Jackson has turned the charming story of The Hobbit into three movie-length sessions of boredom that not any amount of CGI can rectify. The first hour or so, with Smaug's attack of the town should have been thrilling, but I found myself looking at my watch... Actually that happened several times during the movie. How is it possible to create a movie of so little emotional involvement out of Tolkien's wonderful myth?

And what about the tragic comic mis-timing, particularly in the character of Alfred? And Thorin seemed to be channeling Mel Gibson as William Wallace....

True enough, the battle scenes are epic, but having seen one, haven't you seen them all? And the pop psychology inserted (via Tauriel) when Fili died rang a very strange note. Why not simply stick with Tolkien's sparkling writing?

The music was great, New Zealand looked wonderful, and the cinematography in general was fantastic. But movies are about characters that you care about in stories that grip you.

Watching this beautifully shot movie gave me, somewhat strangely, the same feeling I had watching The Night of the Hunter. We seemed to be another world, one with good and evil like ours, but more naive and innocent. The physical setting under the mighty Grand Teton mountains, the beautiful colour cinematography, the simply told story of good triumphing over evil, the constant presence of animals of all kinds, and especially the constant return to Joey's perspective on the unfolding events all contributed to this feeling.

Alan Ladd's Shane was the slenderest, gentlest gunfighter hero that ever was. And Jack Palance's fixed "smile" (or rather mean grimace) was perfect. Jean Arthur was at the end of her career, and perhaps a little miscast as the young mother and wife.

It was the filming that really stood out. Every scene was memorable, particularly—for me—the funeral scene, the opening scene with Joey taking potshots at a deer, and the fight between Shane and Starret, much of it showing not the fight but Marian and Joey's fear, as well as the fear of the horses and cattle.

Castellani let it rip with this one! The movie's a riot — but a thoroughly enjoyable one.

Carmela, the daughter of a well-to-do village fireworks manufacturer, relentlessly pursues Antonio, the returned soldier son, now unemployed, of a less than honest poor village woman.

Finally, of course love triumphs... but it's a rocky road to get there! Slowly Antonio is wooed — and when he is, he's resolute — but then they face the reluctance of both sets of parents to their match — and Antonio's sister's indiscretion with another wealthy landowner doesn't help.

I was exhausted by the end with all the shrieking, weeping, chastising and emotional swinging.

The movie is beautifully filmed. Some of the editing is a little rough. The direction improves as the movie goes along. Nino Rota gives us a taste of how his musical gift will develop in subsequent years.