Two Films

And that is it - just about the only thing that A Night in Casablanca and The Power of the Dog have in common is that they are both films. The first is anarchic, ragged and comfortingly predictable, The second is beautiful and truly disquieting. I watched them on consecutive days and it really does make you supicious of a criticism that attempts to lump them together. However, I know that is what you want me to do!

A Night in Casablanca is later MGM Marx Brothers. The plot is slight and full of holes, serving merely to get us from one classic comedic set-piece to another. It is Marx Brothers by numbers but  still very much worth viewing. 67/100.

The Power of the Dog is an altogether different beast. This movie comes with the lazy label 'revisionist western' but that doesn't tell you the half of it. It is a fantastically structured and beautifully filmed text. Normally I would be tempted to reveal at least some of the plot but not this time. You must see this (it is currently available on iPlayer) and prepare yourself for a heart-rending finale. Chock-full of great performances, pour yourself a nice red and settle down in a darkened room with a large screen and just let it seep into your soul. 89/100.

Our England

Perhaps I should refer to Our Britain but no, I think England is right. The Celtic nations have their own particular malaises and the novel I want to review carries a distinctly English tone.

The Closed Circle by Jonathan Coe is a novel about Blair's England and the part in its delusions played by the generation to which I belong. It is a comic but still painful analysis of the retreat of decency. It has no hero but it does allow the dreadful Paul Trotter a chance of deliverance in his resignation letter as an MP. This is a skilful fiction from a voice of my generation. It runs to four hundred pages yet the ending feels a little rushed - that however should not detract from its undoubted quality. Its gentleness disguises a proper rancour.   

The Method, The Music, And The War-Cry

Sit down you're rocking the boat. A favourite song from an interesting musical. The film adaptation of Guys and Dolls is not from the very front rank of Hollywood musicals (think, Singin' in the Rain, and Seven Brides) but it is nonetheless good stuff and it includes Marlon Brando's only singing performance. By all accounts Frank Sinatra coveted the Sky Masterson role that went to Brando. As it happens Sinatra had to settle for being an arresting Nathan Detroit while Brando brought the method to his Masterson - with conspicuous success. The camera loves him. 67/100. 

And on to the promised war-cry, or more accuarately battle signal. Tora!Tora!Tora! takes its title from the final coded signal for the Japanese fleet to launch its attack on Pearl Harbour. I'm a sucker for big war movies but this one poses a problem. It operates more as drama-documentary than as drama. Unless you are fascinated by the politico-military machinations of WW2 (as I freely confess I am), you will be confounded by the stilted dialogue and the lack of personal threat. The film does at least try to tackle both the American and Japanese perspectives but nowherer near as well as Clint Eastwood's underrated, Letters from Iwo Jima and Flags of Our Fathers, two fims released together as companion pieces. Tora!Tora!Tora is worthy but unexciting. 59/100.