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The Getaway (1994)   This remake of Sam Peckinpah’s Steve McQueen starrer isn’t so much bad as unnecessary. As far as I can discern, about the only alteration Walter Hill made to his original screenplay (by which I mean, his original adaptation of Jim Thompson’s 1958 novel) was adding Amy Holden Jones’ name to the credit (Jones’ most dubious claim to fame is the screenplay for the previous year’s Indecent Proposal). It’s not as if Peckinpah’s movie is an unalloyed classic (although, some revisionist readings would have it so), so there was no reason a different take on Thompson’s material couldn’t

Planet of the Apes (2001)   Tim Burton’s Planet of the Apes remake is one of those movies, like Roland Emmerich’s Godzilla, where everyone knows it’s terrible, so there’s nothing much else to discuss. Except that neither of those movies are terrible. They may not be what fans wanted, but in many respects they’re both much more interesting “failures” than the later, heralded incarnations where the studios concerned “got it right” (which, in Apes’ case, entailed getting bogged down in a highly pedestrian human-ape war, and in Godzilla’s, failing to find a means to instil interest in the token human element). Burton’s movie is probably the least Burton-esque picture

Wrath of Man (2021)   Guy Ritchie’s stripped-down remake of Le Convoyeur (or Cash Truck, also the working title for this movie) feels like an intentional acceleration in the opposite direction to 2019’s return-to-form The Gentleman, his best movie in years. Ritchie seems to want to prove he can make a straight thriller, devoid of his characteristic winks, nods, playfulness and outright broad (read: often extremely crude) sense of humour. Even King Arthur: Legend of the Sword has its fair share of laughs. Wrath of Man is determinedly grim, though, almost Jacobean in its doom-laden trajectory, and Ritchie casts his movie accordingly, opting for more restrained performers, less

Insomnia (2002)   I’ve never been mad keen on Insomnia. It’s well made, well-acted, the screenplay is solid, and it fits in neatly with Christopher Nolan’s abiding thematic interests, but it’s… There’s something entirely adequate about it. It isn’t pushing any kind of envelope. It’s happy to be the genre-bound crime study it is and nothing more, something emphasised by Pacino’s umpteenth turn as an under-pressure cop. Actually, it was only Al’s fifth cop (out of eight, by my count), but there’s a lot of frustration and stress packed into those previous four (most of it in Sea of Love, come to

Invaders from Mars (1986)   One can wax thematical over the number of ’80s remakes of ’50s movies – and ’50s SF movies, in particular – and of how they represent ever-present Cold War and nuclear threats, and steadily increasing social and familial paranoias and disintegrating values. Really, though, it’s mostly down to the nostalgia of filmmakers for whom such pictures were formative influences (and studios hoping to make an easy buck on a library property). Tobe Hooper’s version of nostalgia, however, is not so readily discernible as a John Carpenter or a David Cronenberg (not that Cronenberg could foment such

The Witches (2020)   The rough reception of lost-his-way Robert Zemeckis’ utterly redundant remake of The Witches is richly deserved. It’s as lacking in reason-to-be and filmmaking passion as the majority of his work during the past couple of decades. Unless, by reason-to-be, one means his box of effects tricks, from feverish mocap nightmares – The Polar Express, Beowulf, A Christmas Carol – to a tepid return to live action with as many “seamless” CG augmentations as possible (Flight, The Walk, Allied, Welcome to Marwen). Few now seem interested in his movies, which rather reflects his own visible enthusiasm. The Witches was previously made – quite splendidly – by Nicolas Roeg

Meet Joe Black (1998)   A much-maligned Brad Pitt fest, commonly accused of being interminable, ponderous, self-important and ridiculous. All of those charges may be valid, to a greater or lesser extent, but Meet Joe Black also manages to attain a certain splendour, in spite of its more wayward impulses. While it’s suggestive of a filmmaker – Martin Brest – believing his own hype after the awards success of (the middling) Scent of a Woman, this is a case where all that sumptuous better-half styling and fantasy lifestyle does succeed in achieving a degree of resonance. An undeniably indulgent movie, it’s one I’ve

Narrow Margin (1990)   A lean, efficient little thriller, as you might expect from consummate journeyman Peter Hyams. As you might also expect from Hyams, Narrow Margin is unable to make that extra bound into the arena of a truly great lean, efficient little thriller. Nevertheless, this is quality B-material, with Gene Hackman doing his marvellously meat-and-potatoes darnedest to save a witness from hitmen on a train to Vancouver. Carol Hunnicut: Protect me? You’re the one who put me in danger. I’d suggest Hyams is permanently underrated, but I’m not sure that’s exactly right. It’s more that his talents are underappreciated; as a filmmaker, he

Mulan (2020)   Let that be a lesson to Disney. It’s a fool’s errand to try and beat the Chinese at their own game, no matter how painstakingly respectful – or rather, pandering – you are. Indeed, Mulan’s abysmal $40m box office take in the country – where it did get a proper release, so no plandemic excuses can be cited – feels like a direct rebuke; don’t try and teach us how to suck eggs. There’s an additional explanation too, of course. That Mulan sucks. By which I mean, it isn’t outrageously bad. Niki Caro has made an incredibly handsome movie. But sumptuous costumes,

The Singing Detective (2003)   Icon’s remake of the 1986 BBC serial, from a screenplay by Dennis Potter himself. The Singing Detective fares less well than Icon’s later adaptation of Edge of Darkness, even though it’s probably more faithful to Potter’s original. Perhaps the fault lies in the compression of six episodes into a feature running a quarter of that time, but the noir fantasy and childhood flashbacks fail to engage, and if the hospital reality scans better, it too suffers eventually. Potter was keen to get a film version made, and The Singing Detective went through various line-ups including Robert Altman & Dustin Hoffman

The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956)   Hitchcock’s two-decades-later remake of his British original. It’s undoubtedly the better-known version, but as I noted in my review of the 1934 film, this The Man Who Knew Too Much  is very far from the “far superior” production Truffaut tried to sell the director on during their interviews. Hitchcock would only be drawn – in typically quotable style – that “the first version is the work of a talented amateur and the second was made by a professional”. For which, read a young, creatively fired director versus one clinically going through the motions,

Never Say Never Again (1983)   There are plenty of sub-par Bonds in the official (Eon) franchise, several of them even weaker than this opportunistic remake of Thunderball, but they do still feel like Bond movies. Never Say Never Again, despite – or possibly because he’s part of it – featuring the much-vaunted, title-referencing return of the Sean Connery to the lead role, only ever feels like a cheap imitation. And yet, reputedly, it cost more than the same year’s Rog outing Octopussy. I won’t rehearse all the rights issues involving Kevin McClory, who ran with a remake for an age before getting it into production

I Am Legend (2007)   (Director’s Cut) The version of Richard Matheson’s novel you’re really supposed to have it in for, if purists’ antagonism towards it is any yardstick. It’s definitely the case that the theatrical-cut ending of I Am Legend is a massive cop-out and entirely stuffs up any merit in this adaptation finally using the original title. Nevertheless, in many respects, this is a laudable remake. Its biggest failing is that it has too much budget to play with, leading to decisions that nearly capsize it dramatically. This version was in development hell for more than a decade before finally

The Omega Man (1971)   Chuck Heston battles albino mutants in 1970s LA. Sure-fire, top-notch B-hokum, right? Can’t miss? Unfortunately, The Omega Man is determinedly pedestrian, despite gestures towards contemporaneity with its blaxploitation nods and media commentary so faint as to be hardly there. Although more tonally subdued and simultaneously overtly “silly” in translating the vampire lore from Richard Matheson’s I am Legend, the earlier The Last Man on Earth is probably the superior adaptation. The blame must be partly placed at the door of TV director Boris Sagal (did Chuck really ask Orson Welles?) Sagal embraces a style-free approach that fails to take advantage of the

Village of the Damned (1995)   It’s probably easiest to point to Village of the Damned as the beginning of the end of John Carpenter as an estimable director. He was only 47 when it came out, but watching it, you’d be hard-pressed taking away any notion that he cared anymore. I tend to place the beginning of the rot earlier, post-Big Trouble in Little China, when he stopped working with Dean Cundey as DP and hooked up with Gary B Kibbe. Sure, they made In the Mouth of Madness together, and They Live! but the effect isn’t so dissimilar to Spielberg relying on Janusz Kamiński,

Phantom of the Opera (1943)   I can’t say I’ve ever been especially au fait with Phantom of the Opera lore, such that I wasn’t even aware this version (included on the Universal Monsters Box Set) was the remake of the original featuring Lon Chaney’s deliriously unsettling visage. Arthur Lubin’s colour production is an altogether lusher affair, one that backpedals on the horror in favour of melodrama and extended musical – well, operatic – interludes. And, surely rather defeating the point of the exercise, it’s a more engrossing picture before Claude Rains’ Erique Claudin suffers an excruciating facial disfigurement. In part, that’s because the

Mixed Nuts (1994)   The faintly desperate title says it all. Farces are deceptively difficult to get right, which is probably why so few writers try them anymore. That Nora Ephron should have deep-dived into this Christmas black comedy immediately after one of her most celebrated romcoms (and certainly the most celebrated she directed herself) only makes her errors of judgement look that much worse. Indeed, the only bits of Mixed Nuts that vaguely land are the ones with a romantic twinge. Much of Ephron’s writing here (with sister Delia) appears to mistake humorous for noisy, frenetic and laboured, compounded by a

The Lion King (2019)   And so the Disney “live-action” remake train thunders on regardless (I wonder how long the live-action claim would last, were there a slim hope of a Best Animated Feature Oscar nod?) I know I keep repeating myself, but the early ’90s Disney animation renaissance didn’t mean very much to me; I found their pictures during that period fine, but none of them blew me away as they did critics and audiences generally. As such, I have scant nostalgia to bring to bear on the prospect of a remake, which I’m sure can work both ways. Aladdin proved

The Upside (2017)   The list of US remakes of foreign-language films really ought to be considered a hiding to nothing, given the ratio of flops to unqualified successes. There’s always that chance, though, of a proven property (elsewhere) hitting the jackpot, and every exec hopes, in the case of French originals, for another The Birdcage, Three Men and a Baby, True Lies or Down and Out in Beverly Hills. Even a Nine Months, Sommersby or Unfaithful will do. Rather than EdTV. Or Sorcerer. Or Eye of the Beholder. Or Brick Mansions. Or Chloe. Or Intersection (Richard Gere is clearly a Francophile). Or Just Visiting. Or The Man with One Red Shoe. Or Mixed Nuts. Or Original Sin. Or Oscar. Or Point of No Return. Or Quick

Suspiria (2018)   Luca Guadagnino’s remake of giallo-meister Dario Argento’s 1977 film is set in the same year as the original, for reasons that ultimately seem rather spurious. Indeed, while Suspiria 2018, also concerning a coven of witches running a dance school – as you do – is meticulously made and frequently (ahem) bewitching in its slow-burn dynamics – at an extremely indulgent two-and-a-half hours, it would have to be – it is transparently victim of the mutton-dressed-as-lamb approach taken by filmmakers tentative about approaching what they see as a lesser genre. As such, this is not just a horror movie. No,

Dumbo (2019)   Some would have you believe Dumbo’s less-than-astonishing opening weekend takings were down to an IP that held no cachet for today’s generation. It’s the kind of argument trotted out when it’s convenient but is also used to contrasting effect when it suits (“They smartly managed to freshen the age-old brand up for a modern audience”). That, and a side order of “Sadness, animal cruelty, loss of parents. Who wants to line up for that?” Answer: plenty, it’s all in the telling. Rather than reaching such rash conclusions, I suspect the reason Dumbo has gone down like a lead elephant is

Death Wish (2018)   I haven’t seen the original Death Wish, the odd clip aside, and I don’t especially plan to remedy that, owing to an aversion to Charles Bronson when he isn’t in Once Upon a Time in the West and an aversion to Michael Winner when he wasn’t making ’60s comedies or Peter Ustinov Hercule Poirots. I also have an aversion to Eli Roth, though (this is the first of his oeuvre I’ve seen, again the odd clip aside, as I have a general distaste for his oeuvre). And also, mildly to Bruce when he’s on autopilot (most of the last

Sorcerer (1977)   By the time it was easily available, I didn’t feel any great urgency to check out Sorcerer. Mostly because I’d already seen Wages of Fear by that point, and really, how could it possibly compete? Which wasn’t wrong. William Friedkin can’t equal Henri-Georges Clouzot’s classic, although in fairness, he does produce a picture that isn’t to be sneezed at, that’s very much of its era, and that has its own undeniable qualities. My first knowledge of Sorcerer came via ads for its soundtrack, I guess back in the early ’80s, amongst promotions for more recent releases; for a movie that resoundingly and starkly flopped

The Avengers 5.20: The £50,000 Breakfast   Another week, another remake. This one reworks one of my favourites of Season Two, Death of a Great Dane, but the results are almost entirely uninspired. Indeed, it jostles for one of the weakest episodes of this season. At least with The Joker, there was a bit of polish and an arguably improved casting decision to propel the proceedings. Here, about the only positive I can come up with is that veteran Cecil Parker is on good form as acquiescent major domo Glover, even if his best lines (“I look forward to being excessively rude

The Avengers 5.15: The Joker   It seems this remake of Don’t Look Behind You, the second redo of the season following The Correct Way to Kill reduxed as The Charmers, is generally highly regarded in relation to its Cathy Gale era original. I have to admit, I can’t really see it, and coming after last season’s also-leading-Avenger-lady-trapped-in-an-isolated-house near-remake (The House That Jack Built), it comes across a bit like flogging a dead horse. What The Joker has in spades is production value, cleverly directed by sure-hand Sidney Havers and draped with a level of plushness the Cathy Gale era couldn’t muster. It isn’t enough, though.

The Avengers 5.9: The Correct Way to Kill   You wouldn’t get away with this kind of thing today. The Correct Way to Kill is an undisguised remake of third-season episode The Charmers, right down to its choicer dialogue. Looking at them side by side is neither revealing as a shot-for-shot exercise (Gus van Sant’s Psycho), nor for the changes resulting from a switch to colour and upping the budget (The Man Who Knew Too Much, although there were additional substantial changes there, of course). Instead, both versions have their positives and negatives, but for me, this new one never quite manages

Ben-Hur (2016)   MGM has been entirely consistent in plundering its back catalogue for remakes. At least, to the extent that they never at any point suggested quality results were a determining factor. You’d have thought a redo of one of their greatest success stories would have presumed more care and reverence, but Timur Bekmambetov brings the same level of depth and discernment to Ben-Hur he did to Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter. About the best you can say for it is that’s it’s relatively concise in the telling. Not that MGM didn’t throw money at the property ($80m of the $100m budget, with

Ben-Hur (1959)   Ben-Hur has the mostly unchallenged virtue of being a biblical epic that, if not quite as astounding as its unparalleled eleven Oscars would suggest, is actually pretty good. The number of kids foisted into watching it during a Religious Studies class, only to be very pleasantly surprised (I can’t say my response was similar when Pink Floyd: The Wall got an unlikely airing), and its status as a Bank Holiday weekend fixture, has given it a well-earned reputation, even if nothing in the rest of its three hours and 32 minutes comes close to matching the nine-minute chariot race. Notably, like Titanic (which isn’t

Miracle on 34th Street (1994)   There are sentiments in the original Miracle on 34th Street, but it isn’t weighed down with sentiment. And it has a “serious” message amid the wit and frivolity, but it isn’t overburdened by it. There’s a romance, but it’s breezy rather than stodgy. And there’s an obligatory cute kid, but she isn’t horribly precocious. And, of course, Santa Claus features, but he isn’t impossibly twinkly and ineffectual. In short, Les Mayfield’s remake makes heavy weather of everything that was sharp(ish) and inspired about the 1947 movie, and shoots the whole thing through a nightmarish soft-focus gauze designed

Ghost in the Shell (2017)   The original anime isn’t exactly the most emotionally enriched of movies. Its themes are rather of the cool, cerebral variety, particularly so with its characters’ didactic (some might say long-winded) conversations and exposition. As such, you might have expected the Ghost in the Shell remake, expressly repositioning itself as a hero(ine) narrative of self-discovery and realisation, to chart its own distinctive trajectory, perhaps even sufficiently to succeed on its own terms. It’s failure, in part, is likely because this change in direction is suggestive of committee decision making, rather than dictated by someone with a strong

Beauty and the Beast  (2017)   Eh, uh. Okay. I was never that taken with the ’90s Disney animation renaissance. There were a few exceptions (Hercules, The Emperor’s New Groove – the atypical ones, basically), but mostly, they seemed overly concerned with distilling the classic era pictures in a staid and respectful, rather than inspired, manner. Formulaic, basically, and a formula they stuck to for half-a-dozen pictures that yielded tidy financial dividends. I can quite understand their appeal, but for me it was the Wolfgang Reitherman era, increasingly short-changed as it was, that was where it was at. This live-action remake does

Pete’s Dragon (2016)   I didn’t see that that many movies at the cinema as a wee nipper (I know, boo-ruddy-hoo), but one I did was Pete’s Dragon. Aside from clips, I haven’t revisited it since, and I can fully believe it ain’t all that, reflected through the unflattering rear-view mirror of adulthood. But I was, and am, a fan of the mashup of animation and live action found in the likes of Bedknobs and Broomsticks, Who Framed Roger Rabbit and Looney Tunes: Back in Action (but not Space Jam). It seemed to me this remake was going for the least-imaginative route available in fashioning a CGI

Point Break (2015)   Hollywood evidently has an endless capacity for remakes, and most of them end up redundant at best. This takes a new biscuit for pointlessness, however, an irreducibly soggy, surf-saturated one, that embraces ineptitude beyond the bounds of the reasonably feasible. Kathryn Bigelow’s original is still a titan in terms of direction – the bank robbery! That foot chase! – and supported by a perfect cast (rarely better Keanu, Patrick Swizzle, Lori Petty, all of them definitely needing sympathetic directors; Gary Busey is a legend in whatever he’s in, of course). Point Break 2015 has a shitty director and

The Magnificent Seven (2016)   The Magnificent Seven is exactly what you’d expect from the umpteenth remake of Seventh Samurai, or more specifically the direct offspring of the 56-year-old western of the same title; it’s serviceable, undemanding, features mostly decent performances, but brings absolutely nothing new to the mix to justify itself. At least Battle Beyond the Stars and A Bug’s life wholeheartedly switched genres. At least The Seven Steptoerai… actually, no. It’s probably a better movie than its underwhelmed reception suggests, but the critical reaction is merited simply by virtue of the current glut of remakes greenlit for no other reason than that studios have the

A Bigger Splash (2015)   This remake (of 1969 film La Piscine) didn’t quite work for me, mostly due to a third act narrative lurch that feels disproportionate and (relatively) unmotivated. Combined with a cryptic quality that tends to the annoying rather than intriguing, A Bigger Splash lends itself to a bigger let-down than I had expected. Mainly because, prior to that point, it had me fully engaged, rather than frustrated. The tensions between the isolated quartet on the idyllic Italian island of Pantelleria simmer nicely, as Harry (Ralph Fiennes), ex- of recuperating rock royalty Marianne (Tilda Swinton), gate-crashes her and toy boy

Ghostbusters (2016)   Paul Feig is a better director than Ivan Reitman. Or at very least, he’s savvy enough to gather technicians around him who make his films look good. But that hasn’t helped make his Ghostbusters remake (or reboot) a better movie than the original, and that’s even with the original not even being that great a movie in the first place. Along which lines, I’d lay no claims to the 1984 movie being some kind of auteurist gem, but it does make some capital from the polarising forces of Aykroyd’s ultra-geekiness on the subject of spooks and Murray’s “I’m just

True Lies (1994)   James Cameron might not quite yet have been King of the World in 1994, but he was definitely King of Science Fiction Cinema. Terminator 2: Judgement Day had become the biggest movie of 1991 worldwide (luckily for Carolco, which bet the bank on it), and consequently he could do anything he wanted next. And what he wanted to do was mystifying. Perhaps it stemmed from an attempt to show his “range” (after all, his next non-genre offering nabbed him the coveted Best Picture Oscar), but a remake of obscure French movie La Totale!, a spy comedy that allowed Cameron

The Wicker Man (2006)   There’s been a seemingly endless supply of remakes of ’70s movies since the turn of the millennium, most of which I’ve managed to avoid. I’ve yet to experience the dubious pleasures of Stallone’s Get Carter, Branagh’s Sleuth, or Rod Lurie’s Straw Dogs, for example. I did have a vague interest in Neil La Bute’s take on The Wicker Man, however, given it has developed its very own cult reputation, of a “so bad it’s good” variety. Most of which rests on a typically eccentric Nicolas Cage performance, which I tend to be all for. But still, I was resistant, out of

The Jungle Book (2016)   It might seem like I went into The Jungle Book with my mind made up, since I had my doubts in advance, and as it turns out, I didn’t love it. It comes armed with a number of very evident virtues, not least quite incredible, top-to-bottom (well, aside from Neel Sethi) photoreal CGI that pulls off the estimable feat of being anthropomorphic without ever entering the realm of uncanny valley. In addition, this is a much more successful take on Disney animated classics than last year’s Cinderella retread. And yet, it still has its cap firmly in hand to

Poltergeist (2015)   MGM’s ransacking of their archives for properties to remake to negligible response, other than sullying their reputation through wanton disrespect, might not seem that heinous in respect of Poltergeist. It was, after all, the spooky equivalent of Jaws. A Spielberg concept “directed by Tobe Hooper”, run into the ground through neglect and the desire for artistically bankrupt sequels. But Gil Kenan’s update is so wilfully redundant, particularly when the original had something special going for it, it might be worth keeping the 2015 take in mind as a harbinger of what will become of many an ’80s classic (well,

Cinderella (2015)   I guess you can’t really complain about a new version of Disney’s animated Cinderella, but live action this time, doing exactly what everyone expected of a new version of Disney’s animated Cinderella, but live action this time. I mean, it could have been fun, vibrant, witty, clever, different, twisted, edgy – any of those things, or even just one – rather than entirely obvious, without even the slightest glimmer of creativity. But then it might have run the risk of not being what audiences wanted (or were made to want, since the Mouse House is astutely serving up yesterday’s leftovers, with a

The Gambler (2014)   Mark Wahlberg in serious lead actor mode ought always to be a warning sign. Put him in a comedy, more than likely, you’re reasonably sorted. Give him a supporting role in a drama, and you’re similarly quids-in. Here he’s starring in a remake of the 1974 James Caan picture, the title of which should be enough of a clue. But, if you need a bit more, this isn’t a happy-go-lucky caper like The Sting. The Gambler is a very much a ’70s anti-hero part, the addict who destroys everything around him but still you’re expected to stick by him.

The Man from U.N.C.L.E. (2015)   Guy Ritchie would evidently have liked to make a Bond film as much as his former producer Matthew Vaughn, and either would undoubtedly add more spark to the franchise than current darling Sam Mendes (lush cinematography or no lush cinematography). While Vaughn brokered his fandom into a patchy but violent and vibrant original earlier this year (Kingsman: The Secret Service) and won considerable box office as a result, Ritchie picked up Steven Soderbergh’s discarded menu items and went with refashioning an existing property, one he had no yearning interest in. Sometimes that shows in the result,

The Equalizer (2014)   Why adapt source material if you’re then going to discard the very thing that made it unique? That’s likely to be the first question asked by anyone who has seen the ’80s TV original of the big screen version of The Equalizer. The answer in this case is surely “Because it has a really cool title”. The latest formulaic Denzel Washington action vehicle is pretty much what you’d expect from a formulaic Denzel Washington action vehicle; technically accomplished, shallow and glossy.  The Equalizer also comes equipped with a ready supply of revenge/vigilante movie tropes. Its biggest problem is that

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (2013)   At least this second big screen adaptation of James Thurber’s short story is no by-the-numbers remake. Unfortunately, few of Ben Stiller’s and writer Steve Conrad’s choices in this very different take to the Danny Kaye original are positive ones. It’s all the more disappointing, as Stiller’s directorial work has been a consistent bright spot in a career frequently marred by a tiresome comedy klutz persona spread across chasm of undifferentiated movies. One suspects the problem may be too little involvement in the screenplay, as on paper at least the writer-director of Zoolander and Tropic Thunder is

Oldboy (2013)   I’m not averse to remakes so long someone has a good reason for going there. Generally, I wouldn’t regard “It was in a foreign language” as a valid motive. Just occasionally however, even a straight retelling can provide the lazy distraction of a different-but-the-same iteration, although one invariably ends up reaching the same conclusion; why did they bother? Most of non-English language films picked by Hollywood for a remake fail at the box office, and yet the lesson is never learned. If there’s a whiff of a name property, even from a somewhat insular bean counter standpoint,

Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978)   Philip Kaufman’s 1978 science fiction classic is responsible for several firsts, as well as continuing and culminating a number of the decade’s abiding themes. The most obvious of the former is that it began a trend for science fiction remakes, one that (as Kim Newman notes in the documentary on the Blu-ray release) hoodwinked audiences into thinking they’d all be of the same high quality (and for a while, they were). It also made a point of redressing B-movie material with design realism (which would be expanded upon exponentially the following year in Alien)

Robocop (2014)   How long before you can buy the Robocop remake for a dollar from bargain bins? Not very, I’d hazard a guess (if anyone watching it will even bother buying it, at this stage in the rise of the download world). Its greatest virtue is that it isn’t terrible, but stating that it’s superior to that other recent Paul Verhoeven remake (Total Recall) is merely damning Robocop 2014 with faint praise. None of the signs were promising, from the reveal of the suit onwards. It’s a graceless design, Street Hawk with the de rigueur Batman pectoral ribbing. But a sharp story, adeptly told will

D.O.A. (1988)   There’s an assumption that all originals are superior and so remakes are necessarily inferior. And, to be fair, it’s usually true. There are exceptions to the rule, usually where the original wasn’t really all that much cop to begin with. A case in point is the 1950 D.O.A. It’s an enjoyable film noir, with a blinding premise, but it was never among the top rank of its genre. No desecration took place when this ’80s remake came long. It’s he loosest of remakes anyway, lifting the title, opening scene and method of poisoning. I readily admit that I loved this

The Mechanic (2011)   Are the Stath and Simon West the new Scorsese/Di Caprio? In a B-movie, not very exciting sort of way? First came the above title. Then, in quick succession, The Expendables 2 and next a remake of forgotten ‘80s Burt Reynolds-starrer Heat (from William Goldman both times out, no less). Maybe great things beckon for the duo. Nah. The Mechanic is also a remake, from the now departed auteur Michael Winner and the Olivier of his generation Charles Bronson. Clearly West and Jason Statham had a lot to live up to. The original script for Bronson version made play of a homosexual undertone

Conan the Barbarian (2011)   Marcus Nispel clearly wanted to stretch himself. Not for him the legacy of slick but trashy horror remakes no one was begging for (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Friday the 13th). He had more strings to his bow than a succession of hapless teenager kills. He could kill in other genres too! He could remake other genres too! And so came Conan the Barbarian. To be fair to him, there was a vocal calling for the return of Conan (unlike those other remakes). A return didn’t have to feature Arnie, who, after all, was only in one decent Conan movie. Thanks to Jason Momoa’s

Always (1989)   Spielberg’s only straight remake is as misjudged a piece of genre hopping as 1941, his sole stab at comedy a decade earlier. Except that film at least has a crazy excess, for all its lack of real laughs. Always updated 1943’s A Guy Named Joe) and saw Spielberg dip his toe in the romance genre. You can count the number of times he’s subsequently attempted remakes or romances on one finger. As with laughers, he probably wisely realised love stuff wasn’t his forte. Dabble with both comedy and romance, but in the service of an entirely different genre, and Spielberg could deliver something

Twilight Zone: The Movie (1983)   With the odd exception (Band of Brothers), Spielberg and TV don’t mix. Ironically, as that’s where he started out, and given one of his best pictures is a TV movie (Duel). The collection of half-arsed small-screen fare trumpeting (or should that be trumping) his name is extensive, and there’s a raft of beleaguered series that struggled to a couple of seasons based on his name alone. It’s still going on (Falling Skies). His big-screen version of The Twilight Zone happened several years before he had a good scratch at his anthology itch (Amazing Stories), and given

Gambit (2012)   The script for this remake of Ronald Neame’s 1966 caper had been doing the rounds since the late ‘90s. The estimable Coen Brothers took on script duties, looking for some rewrite work (never intending to direct). Despite the pedigree of most projects their names are attached to, it remained in Development Hell for another fifteen years. Which probably wasn’t a good sign. The finished article bears testament to this, but I don’t really think the script is to blame. But it does lead me to suspect that the only people who can make a good movie out

The Omen (2006)   One can’t necessarily blame Fox for remaking The Omen. It represents a name brand, and every studio in town had been going through any horror franchise with even vague clout. Most of these have met with middling-at-best critical reaction. Meanwhile the box office has just about justified the expense but the telltale drop off following the first weekend that indicated none of them were successfully reinvented for a new generation. The Omen isn’t just a horror franchise, however. For Fox it represents a horror blockbuster, perhaps not in comparison to the likes of Spielberg and Lucas, but nevertheless one of their

A Perfect Murder (1998)   Dial M for Murder absolutely did not need remaking, and any attempt to go near something that Hitchcock made indelible is a fool’s mission. That said, Andrew Davis’ update is a surprisingly stylish affair, blessed with strong performances and knowing just how to mine each development for maximum tension. Nevertheless, the modern touches (in 1998 mobile phones were still exciting) can’t disguise the movie’s very traditional “classic” murder plot origins. Some of the changes are cosmetic, such as replacing scissors with a meat thermometer, and refocussing Michael Douglas’ husband as a dodgy Wall Street hedge fund

King Kong (1976)   Which is the best version of King Kong?  Even though the 1933 original is one of those universally acclaimed classics that leaves me a little cold, it would unquestionably be my pick. Mostly because it conjures a sense of the mythic that both this and Peter Jackson’s bloated CGI spectacular singularly fail at. That Dino De Laurentis was the producer of the 1976 remake should come as little surprise to anyone familiar with his publicity first, quality a distant second, approach. But John Guillermin’s film isn’t all bad. Guillermin is very far from being an auteur; a

Red Dragon (2002)   So you have a strong script from Ted Tally, Oscar winner for adapting the follow-up novel ten years previously. And you’re working from a novel that is arguably even better than the one that resulted in awards glory. You have Oscar winner Anthony Hopkins, reprising his most iconic role for the second time. You have a dream supporting cast of well-respected actors, from Edward Norton and Ralph Fiennes to Philip Seymour Hoffman and Emily Watson. What could go possibly go wrong? I guess, employ Brett Ratner. Dino De Laurentis was nothing if not opportunistic. His 1986

Race to Witch Mountain (2009)   I may have seen the original Escape to Witch Mountain (1975); I can’t recall. There’s certainly no reason for Disney to avoid plundering their frequently shonkily-made ’70s and ’80s live-action kids’ movies. Often, they had a decent central idea but were let down by cheap and cheerful execution. Comedy director Andy Fickman doesn’t seem to have much idea of how to approach this, unfortunately, so settles for a rather banal Close Encounters-meets-X-Files. Neither does the screenplay have much new to offer; alien kids land, government pursues them, good humans help them escape. Throw a bad alien into

Total Recall (2012)   I wanted to like this, partly because I don’t think Paul Verhoeven’s 1990 film is some kind of untouchable masterpiece (it’s got Arnie in it for a start, and the whole thing feels like it was shot on sets) and partly because there’s enough material in the premise that it could stand a few different takes on the Dickmeister. But director Len Wiseman and writers Kurt Wimmer and Mark Bomback do nothing interesting with this remake. What they do change is frequently so daffy you can only conclude that you’re supposed to think that Quaid’s dream at the beginning

Dark Shadows (2012)   In eighteenth century Maine, Barnabas Collins (Johnny Depp) is cursed to become a vampire, then buried alive at the hands of spurned witch Angelique (Eva Green). Exhumed in 1972, he vows to restore the Collins family to its former glory, but must contend with Angelique to do so. Put like that, Dark Shadows possesses a relatively straightforward structure. But Tim Burton’s latest is a difficult one to quantify, as at times it feels like neither fish nor foul. Ultimately this is more of a melodrama than an out-and-out comedy, but it wouldn’t be a Burton film if