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Murder at the Gallop (1963)   Pairing Margaret Rutherford and Robert Morley was a stroke of genius and does much of the heavy – ahem – lifting here. Which is a jolly good thing, as the actual plot in this second of the Rutherford Miss Marples strains credulity on several occasions. Hector: I’m proposing that you should keep your saddle here permanently. It’s such a long time since I last saw this series, I can’t recall if I noticed the running gag of Miss Marple being proposed to by one of her stuffy old suspects at the end of each

Take the Money and Run (1969)   Woody Allen’s first movie proper as director – What’s Up, Tiger Lily? only sort-of counts – is a minor league crime mockumentary, stacked with hit-and-miss gags and slapstick and a far cry from his later work. Although, it does feature a romance (with Janet Margolin), and he’d later return to the genre with the more polished Zelig. On the basis of Allen’s marriage and alleged activities, many would rather simply give his oeuvre a wide berth, and that’s entirely understandable. At least with a Polanski picture, you don’t generally have to see the

Body Double (1984)   De Palma, backed into a corner, comes out biting. Or drilling. Pilloried for the excesses of Scarface, not least by the ratings board, he decided, very maturely, to go for broke. He’d double down on everything he’d been called out for. Violence? He’d give them violence. How about power drills, giallo style? Sex? He’d give them porn! With an actual porn star as his leading lady (he’d ultimately reconsider). Perversion? He’d make his hero a panty sniffer! Hitchcock homages? How about Rear Window and Vertigo! Body Double is his equivalent of a schoolboy dare. You’d hardly

The Godfather (1972)   I expect most people – among those aware The Godfather won the Best Picture Oscar, that is – assume it was the big winner that night. While it could indeed boast the top prize, Cabaret far and away exceeded it in trophy count, eight to the Don’s meagre three (Picture, Adapted Screenplay and Actor, the latter category one where Cabaret wasn’t competing). In those terms, The Godfather’s victory looks closer to a quirk of Spotlight proportions, despite sharing the year’s most nominations with Bob Fosse’s movie. Time and hindsight have shown the Academy got the main award right, but the cautious applause serves to emphasise

Mildred Pierce (1945)   Is Mildred Pierce really a film noir? Sure, its framing device revolves around murder, and there’s crime – it’s adapted from a 1941 James Cain novel, after all – and requisite black-and-white cinematography, but at its core, this is really melodrama. The picture’s genre specifics are evidently a well-thumbed subject for discussion, so I’m rather late to the table on that score. All I know for certain is, there’s only so much of Veda (Ann Blyth) being a right little spoiled cow to pushover mum Mildred (Joan Crawford) I can take before I’m longing for Bogey to show up and

Topkapi (1964)   Good heist movies are hard to come by. Audiences are so starved of them, even dreck like the Now You See Mes does well. Jules Dassin was no slouch in the genre, having already wowed audiences almost a decade before Topkapi with Rififi’s silent, half-hour heist sequence. This is much more a caper than it is a hard-bitten crime movie, though, completely with jaunty comic turns and a very relaxed – sedate, even – approach to unfolding its tale. When it comes to the main set piece, however, it more than delivers. It’s a long time since I’d last seen Topkapi, such

Lady in the Lake (1946)   There’s a good reason this isn’t first in line for discussion of great Philip Marlowe adaptations. And it isn’t because Bogey isn’t in it (or Elliott Gould, come to that). Robert Montgomery doesn’t exactly look like a dishevelled PI – at least, on the occasions you can actually see him – but he gets the cadence right. No, the reason Lady in the Lake is largely left languishing in the icy depths is Montgomery’s leftfield creative choice as director: subjective camera. Adrienne: Marlowe, where do you usually spend Christmas Eve? Marlowe: In a bar. Where do you? That’s

Riders of Justice aka Retfærdighedens Ryttere (2020)   Anders Thomas Jensen’s ruminative comedy-thriller (or should that be thriller-comedy? Neither does it justice) is one of those perfectly pitched pictures that gauges its tonal shifts with deceptive ease. The kind of movie that might have been no more than a slickly well-oiled genre vehicle, satisfyingly cathartic in its action beats and laugh out loud in its eccentric character foibles, were it not for the genuinely affecting meditation on loss and forgiveness at its core. To that extent, Riders of Justice put me in mind of the work of Martin McDonagh. At the heart

Crimewave (1985)   A movie’s makers’ disowning it doesn’t necessarily mean there’s nothing of worth therein, just that they don’t find anything of merit themselves. Or the whole process of making it too painful to contemplate. Sam Raimi’s had a few of those, experiencing traumas with Darkman a few years after Crimewave. But I, blissfully unaware of such issues, was bowled over by it when I caught it a few years after its release (I’d hazard it was BBC2’s American Wave 2 season in 1988). This was my first Sam Raimi movie, and I was instantly a fan of whoever had managed to translate the energy and

A Perfect World (1993)   It’s easy to assume, retrospectively, that Clint’s career renaissance continued uninterrupted from Unforgiven to, pretty much, now, with his workhorse output ensuring he was never more than a movie away from another success. The nineties weren’t such a sure thing, though. Follow-up In the Line of Fire, a (by then) very rare actor-for-hire gig, made him seem like a new-found sexagenarian box-office draw, having last mustered a dependably keen audience response as far back as 1986 and Heartbreak Ridge. But at home, at least, only The Bridges of Madison County – which he took over as director at a late stage, having already

Gigli (2003)   I can’t say I avoided Gigli due to all the terrible reviews and the Razzie sweep. There are plenty of movies commonly cited as lousy that I like or even rate (to mention a selection of Razzie’s targets: Ishtar, Jaws: The Revenge, Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, Hudson Hawk, Last Action Hero, Gods of Egypt). Martin Brest’s previous film had received bad notices but I unabashedly think it’s a good ’un. I had little opinion of J-Lo, except that she was appealing in Out of Sight. Mostly, I couldn’t muster any willpower to investigate because I found, and still do, Batfleck to be underwhelming. So

Alfred Hitchcock  Ranked: 26-1   The master’s top tier ranked from worst to best. You can find 52-27 here.  The Lodger (1927) The first real sign of the director’s signature style, and by some distance, the best film of his silent period. The Lodger finds a – yes – innocent man under suspicion of being a murderer, a ripper-in-their-midst idea Hitch would still find appealing as much as 45 years later with Frenzy. Rather like Grant in Suspicion – well, in spite of the director’s intentions – the titular lodger couldn’t be the killer because he’s played by Ivor Novello. The first of his movies that could

Promising Young Woman (2020)   I’ve been having little luck finding commendable Oscar-nominated fare this season, and Promising Young Woman is no exception. Heralded as a satire, Emerald Fennell’s movie would be better labelled a polemic, one with all the subtlety of the pillow used to smother protagonist Cassie halfway through the third act. Attracting adjectives in the “brave” and “audacious” range, the picture comes armed with the loaded dice of a soft target – rapists deserve retribution – no one is likely to disagree with, such that it’s consequent suggestion – all men are potential rapists or at very least complicit

Séance on a Wet Afternoon (1964)   Bryan Forbes’ adaptation of Mark McShane’s 1961’s novel has been much acclaimed. It boasts a distinctive storyline and effective performances from its leads, accompanied by effective black-and-white cinematography from Gerry Turpin and a suitably atmospheric score from John Barry. I’m not sure Forbes makes the most of the material, however, as he underlines Séance on a Wet Afternoon’s inherently theatrical qualities at the expense of its filmic potential. Myra: We have borrowed a child, Billy. Borrowed. This means that, for all there are reveals hinging on what the viewer does or doesn’t know, there’s significant

I Confess (1953)   There’s a sense of Hitchcock aiming for a piece that will garner respect for the qualities of depth and range in I Confess, rather than something that will simply be a crowd pleaser. It’s a very sombre affair, all-but devoid of his usual wit and thus very much not playing to his strengths. The moral quandary at its heart isn’t really one, since Montgomery Clift’s priest never appears to have the slightest inclination to betray his vow, and the “scandal” of his relationship with Anne Baxter’s married woman is entirely less so by virtue of his being

Stage Fright (1950)   This one has traditionally taken a bit of a bruising, for committing a cardinal crime – lying to the audience. More specifically, lying via a flashback, through which it is implicitly assumed the truth is always relayed. As Richard Schickel commented, though, the egregiousness of the action depends largely on whether you see it as a flaw or a brilliant act of daring: an innovation. I don’t think it’s quite that – not in Stage Fright’s case anyway; the plot is too ordinary – but I do think it’s a picture that rewards revisiting knowing the twist,

Rope (1948)   Rope doesn’t initially appear to have been one of the most venerated of Hitchcocks, but it has gone through something of a rehabilitation over the years, certainly since it came back into circulation during the 1980s. I’ve always rated it highly; yes, the seams of it being, essentially, a formal experiment on the director’s part are evident, but it’s also an expert piece of writing that uses our immediate knowledge of the crime to create tension throughout; what we/the killers know is juxtaposed with the polite dinner party they’ve thrown in order to wallow in their superiority. As

Woman of Straw (1964)   The first fruit of Sean cashing in on his Bond status with other leading man roles – he even wears the tux he’d later sport in Goldfinger. On one level, he isn’t exactly stretching himself as a duplicitous, misogynist bastard. On the other, he is actually the bad guy; this time, you aren’t supposed to be onside his capacity for killing people. It’s interesting to see Connery in his nascent star phase, but despite an engaging set up and a very fine performance from Ralph Richardson, Woman of Straw is too much of a slow-burn, trad crime thriller/melodrama

The Name of the Rose (1986)   Umberto Eco wasn’t awfully impressed by Jean Jacques-Annaud’s adaptation of his novel – or “palimpsest of Umberto Eco’s novel” as the opening titles announce – to the extent that he nixed further movie versions of his work. Later, he amended that view, calling it “a nice movie”. He also, for balance, labelled The Name of the Rose his worst novel – “I hate this book and I hope you hate it too”. Essentially, he was begrudging its renown at the expense of his later “superior” novels. I didn’t hate the novel, although I do prefer the movie, probably because

Number Seventeen (1932)   Number Seventeen isn’t exactly anaemic, or anonymous, but it is almost fiercely pedestrian, perhaps the least interesting picture Hitchcock put his name to during the ’30s. It runs a slender sixty minutes, but this tale of separate parties – cons and cops and some comic relief – descending on the titular house manages to feel long for all that, starved as it is of dramatic tension and cursed with largely uninteresting characters. It ought to have been something more than that, as a return to Hitchcock’s the crime genre that had recently paid dividends. Alas, he finds

The Avengers Ranked: 70-1   While it’s undoubtedly the case that The Avengers hit peak form with the Diana Rigg era (well, her first season anyway), there’s a lot of quality to spread round throughout. Which is why five of the six seasons make a showing in the Top Ten. You can find 139-71 here.   The Living Dead (5.7) Another of the Season 5’s fake SF/fantasy episodes. Admittedly, the Bond villain plot to take over the country via an army beneath a sleepy rural town, complete with Julian Glover in a Fahrenheit 451 hat, goes some way to compensating for the absence of actual ghosts. Particularly notable

The Avengers  Ranked: 139-71   There are, of course, more than 139 The Avengers episodes (sorry, The New Avengers, you didn’t make the grade, mostly because most of your episodes would languish, all-but uninterrupted, right down at the bottom of the ranking). 161 in total, but alas, the majority of the first season is missing, presumed wiped (there’s always the outside chance of another Tunnel of Fear). And no, I don’t count Big Finish as a valid secondary source. Most of the rankings and observations here reflect the previously published season rankings, and it’s a testament to the series’ quality that there are relatively

The Irishman aka I Heard You Paint Houses (2019)   Perhaps, if Martin Scorsese hadn’t been so opposed to the idea of Marvel movies constituting cinema, The Irishman would have been a better film. It’s a decent film, assuredly. A respectable film, definitely. But it’s very far from being classic. And a significant part of that is down to the usually assured director fumbling the execution. Or rather, the realisation. I don’t know what kind of crazy pills the ranks of revered critics have been taking so as to recite as one the mantra that you quickly get used to the de-aging effects so intrinsic to

The Avengers Season 6 Ranked – Worst to Best   The final run, and an oft-maligned one. It’s doubtful anyone could have filled Emma Peel’s kinky boots, but it didn’t help Linda Thorson that Tara King was frequently earmarked to moon over Steed while very evidently not being the equal Emma and Cathy were; the generation gap was never less than unflatteringly evident. Nevertheless, despite this imbalance, and the early hiccups of the John Bryce-produced episodes, Season 6 arguably offers a superior selection of episodes to its predecessor, in which everyone became perhaps a little too relaxed. Requiem A tiresome and irritating plot reliant

Quentin Tarantino  Ranked   The debate continues, particularly with the typically divisive Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood, over whether Quentin Tarantino deserves all the attention lavished on him. Is he a true talent with a deceptive amount to say? Or a showy, shallow pretender to the auteur crown, who gets the press he does because he’s pretty much alone in an arid desert of popular original filmmaking, one where cinema is all-but suffocated by franchise overload. And a foot fetishist to boot (fine if the recipient of his attentions is a consenting adult, but if not…) Of course, Tarantino created his

The Avengers 6.30: Homicide and Old Lace   It seems Homicide and Old Lace (originally titled Tall Story) generally gets the short straw as the most vilified Avengers episode. However, as with the much-decried Invasion of the Earthmen, I was able to find quite a bit to enjoy here. Even the rather deathless main body of the piece, a salvaging, of a sort, of The Great Great Great Britain Crime, can boast Gerald Harper (2.4: Death Dispatch, 4.15: The Hour That Never Was) as an idiot. Mother: I put the word out – find out all you can about Intercrime. Harriet: That’s seven words. Mainly, though, I just enjoyed the

The Avengers 6.27: Who Was That Man I Saw You With?   Jeremy Burnham’s last contribution to the show is a likeable but slight framing tale, but this time, rather than Steed or Mother, all the evidence points to Tara King. There’s also a rather crucial issue, in as much as it bears little scrutiny that someone as innocuous would be the trigger to destroy the country, even when the dastardly plan has been explained. Dangerfield: You know, most people’s feet are so ugly. Mine are so elegant. The conceit is that Tara has been assigned to test the impregnability of defence

The Avengers 6.7: Look – (Stop Me If You’ve Heard This One) But There Were These Two Fellers…   Well, it took a while, but The Avengers finally rekindles the sparkle of the best Rigg era episodes thanks to a Dennis Spooner teleplay (his first credit since the first season). It’s one that spreads itself just about as broadly as it’s possible for the show to go – Look – (Stop Me If You’ve Heard This One) But There Were These Two Fellers… was purportedly rejected for the Rigg run for just that reason – but which is also nigh-on perfect in pace, structure

The Avengers 6.3: The Curious Case of the Countless Clues   Like Invasion of the Earthmen, this is a John Bryce-produced episode. And like Invasion of the Earthmen, it’s rather underrated. The Curious Cast of the Countless Clues includes its own heightened element amid the seriousness in the shape of Sir Arthur Doyle (Peter Jones, the Voice of the Book, of course, and previously Dr Adams in 4.17: The Thirteenth Hole), and a plot that plays out like a rather more feasible version of 5.21: You Have Just Been Murdered, also written by Philip Levene. In this one, a couple of enterprisingly disreputable types, Gardiner (Kenneth

Pulp Fiction (1994)   From a UK perspective, Pulp Fiction’s success seemed like a fait accompli; Reservoir Dogs had gone beyond the mere cult item it was Stateside and impacted mainstream culture itself (hard to believe now that it was once banned on home video). It was a case of Tarantino filling a gap in the market no one knew was there until he drew attention to it (and which quickly became over-saturated with pale imitators subsequently). Where his debut was a grower, Pulp Fiction hit the ground running, an instant critical and commercial success (it won the Palme d’Or four months before its release),

The Sting (1973)   In any given list of the best things – not just movies – ever, Mark Kermode would include The Exorcist, so it wasn’t a surprise when William Friedkin’s film made an appearance in his Nine films that should have won Best Picture at the Oscars list last month. Of the nominees that year, I suspect he’s correct in his assessment (I don’t think I’ve seen A Touch of Class, so it would be unfair of me to dismiss it outright. If we’re simply talking best film of that year, though, The Exorcist isn’t even 1973’s best horror; that would be Don’t Look Now).

The Avengers Seasons 1 & 2 Ranked – Worst to Best   I didn’t get around to providing a worst-to-best ranking of the first three seasons when I revisited through them, so this is to remedy that. Obviously, there’s a slim surviving selection from Season One, but I opted not to include it with Two. Both represent a show gradually finding its direction, first with the pairing of Keel and Steed, the gradual evolution of the latter from mysterious hard guy to the laidback toff we know, and then the patchy partnering with King and Venus before the groundwork for The

The Avengers 5.14: Something Nasty in the Nursery   Once Upon a Time, the penultimate episode of The Prisoner, sprang to mind more than once while rewatching Something Nasty in the Nursery, what with its regressed adults and distorted guitar twangs announcing the sinister. It’s very nearly a great episode, the only thing letting it down being the lack of any rug pull or shift in perspective beyond the initial setup. Mr Goat: I can guess why you’re here. Steed: You can? Mr Goat: An aura of proud fatherhood surrounds you. What it has in spades is style: very much of a woozy, psychedelic lilt

The Avengers 5.11: Epic   Epic has something of a Marmite reputation, and even as someone who rather likes it, I can quite see its flaws. A budget-conscious Brian Clemens was inspired to utilise readily-available Elstree sets, props and costumes, the results both pushing the show’s ever burgeoning self-reflexive agenda and providing a much more effective (and amusing) “Avengers girl ensnared by villains attempting to do for her” plot than The House That Jack Built, Don’t Look Behind You and the subsequent The Joker. Where it falters is in being little more than a succession of skits and outfit changes for Peter Wyngarde. While that’s very nearly enough,

The Avengers 5.6: The Winged Avenger   Maybe I’m just easily amused, such that a little Patrick Macnee uttering “Ee-urp!” goes a long way, but I’m a huge fan of The Winged Avenger. It’s both a very silly episode and about as meta as the show gets, and one in which writer Richard Harris (1.3: Square Root of Evil, 1.10: Hunt the Man Down) succeeds in casting a wide net of suspects and effectively keeps the responsible party’s identity a secret until late in the game. Peter Roberts: He’d been clawed to death, as though by some bird. Some huge, obscene bird. The first victims are

The Avengers 1.20: Tunnel of Fear   As Alan Hayes observes (in the booklet accompanying the DVD release of this recently discovered Season One episode), there’s a more than passing kitchen-sink element to Tunnel of Fear. You could almost expect it to form the basis of a Public Eye case, rather than one in which Steed and Dr Keel get involved, were it not for the necessary paraphernalia of secrets being circulated via a circus fairground. Also rather upsetting the show’s later assured form, Patrick Macnee may have been an easy scene stealer from Ian Hendry in The Frighteners, but I’m not sure he’s

Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri (2017)   One of the most interesting aspects of what can often be a rising level of tedious repetition over the extended awards season is the manner in which pictures are reappraised as the spotlight intensifies. A frontrunner can be reduced to tears as an accusatory critical challenge, usually political or (in historical or biographical cases) factual, begins to hold sway. Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri has been the recipient of the lion’s share of such flak this year, but I somehow doubt Martin McDonagh intended his picture to be held up to scrutiny as an exemplar

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005)   Yes, it’s another Shane Black screenplay set at Christmas. And, as per usual, it’s in the trappings rather than the content – aside from lost characters finding themselves, or others, during the season of goodwill. And Michelle Monaghan looking very fetching in a Santa hat. One wonders if this collection of moviemakers would get together in the current climate, since Joel Silver, Robert Downey Jr and Black all have some form of ignominy attached to their names, of various orders of seriousness, and the material itself is particularly focussed on the Babylon of vice

Free Fire (2016)   I had low expectations for Free Fire, as nothing I’ve seen by Ben Wheatley has equalled the hype surrounding him. Yet this, which has garnered a somewhat mixed reaction, is streets ahead of his previous form, a very funny, delightfully-staged “bottle episode” period crime movie with an eclectic cast bouncing deliriously off each other. Wheatley’s critical moment really occurred with Kill List, which ever so slightly left me with that feeling you get when you weren’t in on the joke. If that’s his outright horror picture, there’s nevertheless a streak of the macabre persisting through all his genre

The Avengers 4.13: Silent Dust   Revisiting Season Four, several episodes have fallen slightly in my estimation, but Silent Dust (along with Dial a Deadly Number) is one that has gone up. The plot isn’t all that, continuing the horticultural (and pesticide) theme of Man-Eater of Surrey Green, but it has a great supporting cast, and in Avengers terms that’s often the difference between a hit and a dud. Juggins: And what if they don’t pay up? Omrod: Oh, they will. After we destroy Dorset. The prologue shows birds dropping dead (so decisively, they look taxidermised, although much more convincingly than the plastic bat on a wire that

The Avengers 3.21: Mandrake   Bill Bain directs a Roger Marshall teleplay for his second funereally-themed episode of the season, and if the title conjures anticipation of occult occurrences along the lines of Warlock, Mandrake’s probably a bit of a disappointment on that level. What it does well is set up the soon-to-be-familiar device found later, of dastardly goings-on in an innocuous rural setting. Likewise, it shows off a plan from the villains that is, actually, quite smart in terms of avoiding being fingered for the crime, if less so in expecting their ruse to get very far, cumulatively. Since the bounders

The Avengers 3.20: The Little Wonders   More memorable for Steed (undercover, naturally) planting a smoocher on a surprised Mrs Gale than its plot of Mafia-esque “clergymen” electing their new leader. This isn’t bad, and Macnee’s having a lot of fun as the Vicar of M’boti, but you can’t help feel it should have been a lot more lunatic. Beardmore: What if he’s a phoney, and doesn’t know Harbottle was playing a double game? The mob organisation is known as Bibliotek, and Steed is replacing the deceased Reverend Harbottle who, we learn, has been involved with another group led by Sister

The Avengers 3.15: The Gilded Cage   An engaging episode on several fronts, from JP Spagge and his scene-stealing major domo to the significant detail that our villains keep keeping one step ahead of Steed and Cathy. It’s also a tour de force for the latter, with Honor Blackman first under the illusion that she’s been banged up for murder and then finding herself out-on-a-limb, trying to walk the tightrope of convincing the bank robbers she really is intent on robbing the bank. Cathy: How can I go through a whole trial and not remember anything? That’s because Steed, who has procured the

The Avengers 3.11: Build a Better Mousetrap   This really oughtn’t to work, seeing as it finds The Avengers flirting with youth culture, well outside its comfort zone, and more precisely with a carefree biker gang who just want to have a good time and dance to funky music in a barn all night long. Not like the squares. Not like John Steed… who promptly brings them on side and sends them off on a treasure hunt! Add into the mix couple of dotty old dears in a windmill– maybewitches – up to who knows what, and you have very much the

The Avengers 3.2: Brief for Murder   Now, this is much more like it. Brief for Murder comes courtesy of the reliable duo of writer Brian Clemens and director Peter Hammond. John Laurie, in the second of four Avengers appearances, is on inimitable form as one half of the Lakin brothers, a legal duo who have met with spectacular court room success after years of obscurity. It seems the only thing previously stopping them was their approach; I had half-expected some diabolical mastermind or intricate device bolstering them. But no, they’ve simply hatched the idea of defending those for whom they have planned crimes

Mr. Robot Season 2   I suspect my problem with Mr. Robot may be that I want it to be something it isn’t, which would entail it being a much better show than it is. And that’s its own fault, really, or rather creator and writer-director of umpteen episodes Sam Esmail’s, who has intentionally and provocatively lured his audience into thinking this really is an up-to-the-minute, pertinent, relevant, zeitgeisty show, one that not only has a huge amount to say about the illusory nature of our socio-economic system, and consequently the bedrock of our collective paradigm, but also the thorny subject of reality itself,

Dick Tracy (1990)   So, I pretty much denounced Dick Tracy at first sight. I couldn’t understand why it seemed to be getting such a charitable response, since it fundamentally failed to understand the hows and whys of translating a comic to the big screen, certainly in terms of capturing the thrill or dynamism of reading one of the things. I had problems with Batman, but at least it featured Burton-esque quirks and a couple of memorable performances. Dick Tracy just sat there, oblivious, its only noteworthy aspect being an eyeball-grazing colour palette. But, I reasoned, said appraisal took place prior to my discovery and

The Avengers 2.26: Killer Whale   The Avengers explores the delightful world of intestinal slurry, as Steed and Mrs Gale enter the fetid domain of ambergris smugglers. Killer Whale can certainly boast a distinctive subject for criminal plot, but unfortunately the proceedings are less than remarkable, an unholy clash of fashion and boxing. This one, written by John Lucarotti (his third of six for the series, he was also a contributor to some of the best William Hartnell historical Doctor Whos) begins with the unlikely coincidence that Cathy is hanging out with a wannabe professional boxer just when Steed is becoming suspicious of a

The Avengers 2.15: Intercrime   Terrance Dicks and Malcolm Hulke return, showing how to engineer a plot revolving around a syndicate of international criminals and not make it pedestrian. In many respects Intercrime is a standard issue piece for the series at this point, but it succeeds thanks to all the inter-Intercrime intrigue, making the bad guys’ machinations as interesting as Steed and Cathy’s. Intercrime have impressive credentials. They’ve pulled off twelve major robberies in the previous few weeks, most recently snatching three quarters of a million pounds and a couple of Modiglianis. Their behaviour doesn’t exhibit the hallmarks of British criminals, and anecdotally

The Avengers 2.6: Mr. Teddy Bear   Inevitably, the odder the early “straight” episodes are, the more they feel like classic Avengers. Mr. Teddy Bear boasts a choice premise, requiring that Mrs Gale engages the titular assassin to kill Steed, and then approaches the ensuing plot from a pleasingly skew-whiff angle. Which means, yes, there’s a talking teddy bear. Sean Connery doesn’t show up dressed as a giant one, though. The real star is Martin Woodhouse’s incredibly witty script, showing how relatively run-of-the-mill much of The Avengers has been up to this point. This was his first of seven contributions to the show (the last

True Detective Season Two   Season Two of True Detective has received a hard time of it, dragged through the dirt even well before the first episode aired.  Certainly, I found the casting, premise and trailers fairy unpersuasive, such that I waited until I could see the entire thing in one burst. I’m glad I did, as Season Two definitely lacks the compelling plotting and thematic undercurrents that made the first so addictive, and the commanding characters (or character; that’s Rust Cohle right there) that brought you back for more. Yet even as a lesser beast, I found Season Two diverting viewing, particularly from

Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me (1992)   Is Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me an unjustly maligned masterpiece? I well recall Kim Newman’s rave review in Sight and Sound at the time, and Mark Kermode has venerated it as “one of the greatest horror movies of modern times”. Both those guys love their horror, so they aren’t to be dismissed out of hand. I felt somewhere in between on first viewing; there were undoubted moments of brilliance in there – how could there not be, with David Lynch’s fingerprints on all over it – but it was telling a story that didn’t need telling and

Twin Peaks  2.14: Double Play   The first in a brief run of name directors, as Uli Edel gets on board. This would be the shape of things to come for the director. He made the acclaimed slog Last Exit Brooklyn prior to this, but next came the ridiculed Body of Evidence. TV heaven beckoned after that. Mark’s brother Scott handles scripting duties for the second and final time. There’s a definite uptick here; much dead wood prevails, but you can feel a re-ignition of drama and engagement. Special Agent Cooper: Windom Earle is a genius. And he’s taken his first pawn in a

Twin Peaks 2.1: May the Giant Be with You   The ninety-minute Season Two opener finds Twin Peaks back in the finest of form, following a slow glide to normalcy during the last part of the first season. It can in no way be coincidental that the freakish fingerprints of David Lynch are all over the episode; he shares a story credit with co-producer Mark Frost (who wrote the teleplay) and also directed. This has everything one would want from the show; instructive giants, singing lawyers, bizarre poetry, uncanny dreams, and, of course, Bob. There’s even a Three Stooges reference, and from the most

The Rover (2014)   David Michôd’s Outback thriller embraces a tentative future vision of pre-apocalyptic, post-economic collapse. It’s gauged not so far from the original Mad Max, and, by avoiding population centres, it avoids answering any detailed questions about how this former First, now Third, World country malingers on. It might have been better if the general thrust of Michôd’s story had remained similarly unforthcoming. For the first forty minutes or so, The Rover is stark, striking, and elusive. It remains a first-rate piece of filmmaking right through to the climax, but the tale wilts into something a touch too tangible and familiar.

Dead Head (1986)   I missed Dead Head’s television broadcast, but I recall it as part of an era when BBC dramas were regularly courting controversy. The flat crudity of the title was provocative enough in itself, but the tabloids really cut loose over the welly boot sex scene. It’s debateable whether the serial would have gone down as an ’80s classic in the way Edge of Darkness or The Singing Detective have, even if the BBC hadn’t buried it (or chosen to forget it; it was never repeated). It’s quite self-consciously oddball, while being too overtly politicised to reach the hallowed heights of a

Twin Peaks 1.4: Rest in Pain   Another damn fine episode, and one with neither Frost nor Lynch credited in writing or directing. Harley Peyton was a producer on Twin Peaks, and would script no less than fourteen episodes (including uncredited work on 1.3). He wrote screenplays for Less than Zero and Heaven’s Prisoners, and most recently was attached to the still born Jonathan Rhys Myers Dracula show. Tina Rathborne directed (and returned for season two) but has done nothing since. Sheriff Truman: Who killed Laura Palmer? It will be interesting to note which Season Two episodes Peyton penned, as here he takes to Lynch and Frost’s

Twin Peaks 1.1: Northwest Passage (Pilot)   It’s unlikely that the first thing one thinks of, when one thinks of Twin Peaks, is intricate plotting. This, despite the “Who killed Laura Palmer?” hook that heralded its first (truncated) season and just short of the first half of the second. No, it’s a safe bet that the David Lynch trademarks of mood, atmosphere, surrealism and eccentricity will be front and centre of one’s thoughts. And what the hell befell Agent Cooper after his encounter in the Black Lodge, of course. Those aspects have not diminished in the 25 years since, despite the

The Avengers 1.6: Girl on the Trapeze   Ironically, the first complete Avengers episode is Steed-free (one of only two from the season; the finale is Keel-free). Keel gets embroiled in a case of his own instigation when he witnesses a girl jump from a bridge into the drink. This leads him to an Eastern European circus and an inevitable stock footage extravaganza of gymnastic routines and lions and the like. The clowns are 100-percent new, however. The plot revolves around a defecting scientist (whom we never see), and the daughter Edwin Richfield’s manager Stefan plans to use as collateral to ensure

True Detective 1.7: After You’ve Gone   Even though we appeared to be up-to-date, Nic Pizzolatto can’t resist sprinkling a few flashbacks into the penultimate episode. After You’ve Gone is full of great moments, but perhaps a slight step down on the quality of the past couple of weeks. While it’s exciting to see present day Rust and Marty team up, there’s an occasional awkwardness to the character work (how many times do they have to ask what each has been doing for the past ten years?) and it has to be said straight up that the final scene is hopelessly Scooby Doo.

True Detective 1.6: Haunted House   The far-out theorising of the fifth episode (probably my favourite so far) is all but jettisoned as True Detective is brought back down to earth with a thud and a bump and a grind in Haunted House. It’s a definite and intentional pullback from the investigation side (barring a couple of scenes, and one especially memorable one), which tidies the hedgerows and brings the narrative fully up-to-date. And it serves to really cement that this is all about the decaying lives of the detectives at its centre; the solving of the crime needs to pay-off satisfyingly to

True Detective 1.5: The Secret Fate of All Life   This is the first episode I’ve watched all on its lonesome, and I have to agree with those suggesting it’s a series that pays to watch in weekly instalments rather than as a big chunk. Having said that, the last series that I was addicted to in such a manner was Lost (for not dissimilar metaphysically and philosophically speculative reasons). And look how that investment paid off. True Detective at least will reveal itself as a true success or a true failure in a mere few weeks, but the journey (as with ninety percent

Pain & Gain (2013)   It’s been suggested that Pain & Gain is Sturm und Drang-meister Michael Bay’s take on a little arty movie; his version of a Coen Brothers picture, if you will. It’s certainly small by his standards (budget-wise, as opposed to posturing). And there are also recognisable Coens touchstones present; a crime tale of less-than-cerebral criminals whose abysmal plans quickly spiral out of control. It also has the based-on-a-true-story cachet that Fargo didn’t really have at all, actually. And it’s because the plucked-from-the-headlines tale is so bizarre, a litany of cluelessness and ultra-violence, that it sustains the interest. But it’s not

10 Rillington Place (1971)   This adaptation of Ludovic Kennedy’s book (yes, the Did You See…? presenter) about notorious serial killer John Christie is a gripping, low-key affair. It retains an air of authenticity by firmly rooting itself in the mundanity of everyday life, and thanks to a transformative performance from Richard Attenborough. Attenborough makes Christie outwardly normal and at once sinister. There is little to single him out as sociopath; he is soft-spoken (like a creepy Alan Bennett) and only slightly off in demeanour. He’s just a small, balding man with a bad back and a devoted wife. Christie gassed and

Seven Psychopaths (2012)   Martin McDonagh’s In Bruges is one of my favourite films of the past decade, hilarious and profound in equal measure. His follow-up may lack Bruges’ emotional through line, and thus its resonance, but in its own way Seven Psychopaths is just as perfectly formed. Anyone who has seen the trailer for the film would be forgiven that this is the sub-Tarantino knock-off that some critics have dismissed it as. It features Christopher Walken, after all. It’s very funny little preview, and the use of the track Rocket Scientist suggests a whacky tone not so far from a more wired version of Elmore Leonard’s Get

The League of Gentlemen (1960)   Mercifully, this is far from Extraordinary. Jack Hawkins (Colonel Hyde) assembles a gang of ex-army criminals to rob a bank (which, when it eventually occurs, is impressively-staged and convincingly speedy), taking in an army supplies base along the way.  The real pleasure is in the character interactions and casting, so the early stages are probably the most enjoyable part of the film (Hawkins putting each member in their place as they enjoy a hearty meal at his expense is a highlight). Besides Hawkins, the standout turn comes from Nigel Patrick as the louche Major Race

Killing Them Softly (2012)   A follow-up to the roundly-acclaimed The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, reuniting director Andrew Dominik and star Brad Pitt, was naturally highly anticipated. But the response to Killing Them Softly was generally muted, verging on mild disappointment. In particular, Dominik’s decision to set this adaptation of George V Higgins’ novel Cogan’s Trade at the time of the 2008 US presidential election was considered clumsy and lacking in finesse. As Dominik commented in an interview, his idea was for the microcosm of mob money problems to reflect the macrocosm of the global financial crisis. But did he

The Dark Knight Rises (2012)   More rousing than the first film, but more formulaic and less daring than the second, Christopher Nolan concludes his trilogy in the overblown and some times stodgy fashion that informed The Dark Knight. But, unlike that film, there is no sense that a passion to tell this tale fuelled him. While The Dark Knight stood out from its peers as something different, Rises echoes the first installment by hitting many of the standard superhero tale beats and adopting many of its clichés and plot devices. That said, Nolan continues to refine his technique, and as unwieldy the multi-subplots in