I think I know why this wasn’t a hit at the box office: too many beards. Christian Bale and Matthew McConaughey (both of whom rock) are found here sporting decidedly odd facial hair. They’re both buffed up, and take on heroic action roles, but when it comes down to the classic “men want to be them, and women want to be with them” test, I think I’d rather hang on to my Gillette triple-action, thank you very much.

Apart from that, it’s actually pretty good. In a burned-out world where long-dormant dragons have awoken and laid waste to mankind, a group of survivors are forced into a position where they have to fight for their lives, and for the survival of mankind. It’s dark, it’s violent, and not everyone lives happily ever after. The absence of a PG certificate means it doesn’t have to try and please delicate sensibilities, but neither does it stray all the way into gory last-man-standing mode. Director Rob Bowman seems to have resisted any pressure to fit the story into an established audience-pleasing mode, and instead just tells it like it is. Uncompromising, and very watchable.

What struck me most about Batman Begins, and what still resonates most with me, is how realistic a film it was. That might sound strange, considering it’s a superhero flick, but Batman is a hero without special powers. He draws his strength and determination purely from his anger and guilt, rather than from a mutation or otherworldy force. With director Chris Nolan at the helm, this film does a great job of exploring that side of the character, and giving it equal weight with the action story, which is, incidentally, also driven by very human motives of greed and power, rather than gratuitous insanity and fancy costumes. Even the production design is gritty and down-to-earth, inasmuch as it can be with locations like Wayne Manor and the Batcave. Much though I love Tim Burton’s Batman I have to say that I vastly prefer Nolan’s vision to Burton’s gothic stylings.

The casting is great, and all the actors give excellent performances. Christian Bale in particular shines from inside the costume and mask. His face may be hidden, but he drops his voice a notch, adds some gravel, and pumps all of Bruce Wayne’s anger and frustration into short, punchy sentences. The moment when Bale first utters the words “I’m Batman” sent a shiver up my spine and left me with goosebumps for a good minute after.

(Did anyone else notice, by the way, the near total absence of American actors in the headline cast? You’ve got Morgan Freeman, Katie Holmes, and…er…that’s it. Christian Bale is Welsh, Michael Caine, Tom Wilkinson, Gary Oldman, and Linus Roache are all English, Liam Neeson and Cillian Murphy are Irish, Ken Watanabe is Japanese, and Rutger Hauer is Dutch. When was the last time a Hollywood summer blockbuster was ever cast with so few American stars?)

The one thing that let Batman Begins down for me, and this is the only thing that knocks it down from a perfect 5 stars, is the microwave generator plot device. Nnggggnggaarghhh. Did they have to do that? It is the single thing that puts this movie beyond the realms of the plausibly realistic. A secret society driven to purify Gotham City by destroying it is far-fetched, but no more so than, say, The Da Vinci Code (hack, spit). A sinister figure using a weaponised hallucinogen to instil fear and madness in his victims? Yeah, I’ll still buy that. Bruce Wayne using prototypes from his own company’s advanced weapons lab to build the persona of the Bat? It works.

But a microwave emitter capable of selectively targeting water supplies, without cooking every man and beast nearby? Sorry, you lost me there. I see how the device needs these properties to sustain the final chase sequence, but damn it, this could have been the greatest superhero film ever. It could have been utterly unique in not resorting to hand-waving mumbo-jumbo. But it just…quite…isn’t. I badly wanted to give this five stars, but I just can’t forgive the microwave device. Sorry.

This is a much more interesting film than the romantic comedy drama I had taken it for when I rented it. For a start, it’s not really a comedy. It has funny moments, but it’s primarily a story about the relationship between brothers Mickey and Francis Fitzpatrick (Edward Burns and Mike McGlone), and the woman who binds them together in anger as much as in love. Romance makes an appearance, but in a struggling and painful form, and it doesn’t always work out for the best.

I fully agree with Richard that this is a very entertaining film to watch, but it fades from memory as soon as you leave the cinema. I think it’s because it’s all just a bit too slick, a bit too smooth. Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie have the glossy but coolly estranged couple thing down pat, but when the script calls for passion, it’s very controlled. Likewise, they look the part when it comes to showing off their gizmos and guns, but when the shooting starts, they look like they don’t care all that much. There’s no grit, no tension, no real sense of danger that things might not work out for the best. Compare this to The Bourne Identity, a masterpiece of spy thriller tension, which was also directed by Doug Liman, and I felt disappointed that Mr. & Mrs. Smith was merely good fun.

Noir doesn’t get any blacker than this, nor any better. Sin City is a series of four stories, linked by a few common characters, and by the seedy location of Sin City itself. The stories cover revenge, justice, and the struggle of the downtrodden at their most basic and brutal. Life is cheap, violence is ubiquitous, but the good guys (or at least, the less bad guys) still fight for the ones they love. Told in an arresting, partially colourised, high-constrast black-and-white visual style with voice-over narration, it really is a film that has to be seen to be believed.

Some parts of it are good, some parts are dreadful. Pretty much all of it is visually spectacular, but I wish Lucas had sacrificed some of the digital gimmickry for…well, a better screenwriter.

The dialogue was a step up from Episode II, but that’s not saying much. The action is astonishing, but the key thing that sank it for me was Anakin’s relationship with Padme. It is cool, and devoid of passion. Sure, they talk about love, but there are no scenes that elaborate on how deep this runs. And without this depth, Anakin’s journey to the Dark Side doesn’t ring true enough. I can see these characters acting out their inevitable destiny, but I don’t believe it.

The traditional rule of storytelling is “show, don’t tell.” Lucas falls foul of this rule too often in Sith for the film to work on an emotional level–unless you have so much personal dedication to the saga that you can supply it for yourself.

Ultimately, though, I’m not even sure if the story of Anakin’s fall from grace is a story that should have been shown at all. The story of Star Wars is Luke Skywalker’s battle with his father in Episodes IV – VI: a struggle between good and evil, with good ultimately triumphant. Episodes I-III are the back story for the main feature. There is a long, twisty tale there of love and betrayal, but with a legend that big, you can do two things: sum it up in a a few sentences, leaving the audience’s mind to fill in the details, or spin it out into somehing that is long enough to deal with the subtleties of the material.

Interestingly, it is Episode I that now stands out for me as the best of the first three films, because it is the least involved with Anakin’s tortuous journey. It can be seen as a stand-alone prologue, introducing the universe and the forces of light and darkness, and it has a nicely self-contained plot, with a satisfying climax. Episodes II and III rely far too much on their nudge-nudge, wink-wink hooks into subsequent episodes to be decent films in their own right.

So: points for wrapping the story up at last, so we can all get on with our lives. Points subtracted for it being–in anything other than its own context–a rather poor film.

When it comes to romantic comedy, John Cusack is da man. Serendipity is a delightful romantic comedy about chance meetings and fate. It’s not realistic, it’s not complicated, and it’s not meant to plumb great depths of human emotion; it just gives you a sweet little slice of romance. (Also, the world totally needs to see more of Jeremy Piven.)

Strange and intriguing BDSM love story. Let down by the ending, in which the intimate relationship the film focuses on is opened up to the rest of the world. Excellent performances from Maggie Gyllenhall and James Spader.

(This quick review is part of my September 2005 “clearing the decks” exercise.)