William Thomas

The technique used here to plonk Martin in classic movies seems out of place given the kind of sophisticated effects we have on tap today, but there is a real sense of fun at work nonetheless.

Cronenberg's sleaziest, funniest film, jammed with juicy gore and infectious shocks.

Sex and swearing from David Mamet: the family guy. Fun for grown-ups only.

As a fish-out-of-water comedy-drama, it works well.

Decent premises and the promise of Billy Crystal pale in a film that fronts up to, then whimpers away from, the prospect of leaping out of its genre's boundaries.

Knowingly kitsch, Liquid Sky uses the most basic effects and featuring music and fashion that were cutting edge at the time, it now looks fashionably retro. With lots of sex and violence, it sounds a lot more promising than it is, let down by its poor acting, script and a cast we feel little sympathy for.

A slicky edited, white knuckle ride to the depths of depravity.

This uneven but well-researched film takes a much more sober and realistic view than the Rambo-esque capers, of the hardships endured by shot-down Americans in conditions that were anything but Hilton-like.

A light and lively showcase for a very under-rated double act, Road To Morocco was also unusual for its time in constantly drawing attention to itself as a movie.

This will haunt you. The style, the plot, the character and of course ...that tune...

Lesser Hitch, but still superb entertainment.

It's not nearly exciting enough and at an hour and twenty minutes is overlong for animation fans, yet by virtue of the fact it's a cartoon, it presents itself as too childish for older live action devotees.

Though well directed, Thewlis and Di Caprio simply do not gel (John Malkovich and River Phoenix were the original cast choices), the latter is too hyperactive in delivery, the former too static in expression.

In flashback, we see the pair's friendship develop through their childhood, but despite the film's heavily symbolic tone, little is revealed about either of the characters or indeed the Vietnam War.

With a slew of body swap films in the late 80's it was expected that this would be another one to fall by the way. Except with a promising script by newcomers Rene and Craig and strong performances from Ryan, Baldwin and Walker, it manages to be more memorable than most.

Sweet but predictible angst-ridden Brat Pack outing.

We must salute screenwriter Budd Schulberg (his speech for priest Karl Malden in the loading bay is still stirring). Add the acting/writing heroics a restrained score by Leonard Bernstein and a striking, charcoal look by cinematographer Boris Kaufman, and you have an elegiac portrait of labour relations that feels like a kick in the slats.

Sound silly? It is. Very. But it's also highly enjoyable, incredibly slick and a damn sight more entertaining than numerous other bombastic actioners. Bogosian makes for a splendidly deranged villain.

Both leads are likeable and have the cutting neuroses that Brooks delivers so well. They can’t really carry the film until the dramatic plot twist but from then on its all good fun.

If you are immune to the charms of Carrie and co., this will do little to convert you. Still, it has more than enough sass, style and sentiment to keep the faithful satisfied. Add a star if you're a fan.

Almost a guilty pleasure. But not quite.

Pretty terrible sequel in every respect.

Vice Versa knows its place and, rather than attempting anything oddball, sticks close to the body swap formula in order to gain a decent smattering of laughs. No classic, but a watchable comedy that will find an audience.

The big screen was where none of them had gone before, and you can tell.

Despite the luminous Lombard and the venomous March, this is perhaps better for its idea than its execution.

A comic take on Rear Window, Badham's latest has the acting talent to carry it over the sizeable gulfs in plot to an end product that brings laughs aplenty.

A bizarre, intriguing combination of political allegory and old-fashioned paranoid horror.

It's Newman's performance itself that really makes this film work and helps it truly get close to Lumet's own '12 Angry Men'.

Has cult status now but the plot is fiendishly complicated.

There is some fun to be had if you're in an undemanding frame of mind.

A raw, blood-soaked glare into the seedy underworld of sport, with terrific performances by two of Hollywood's heavyweights.

Take an uncharismatic leading man (Bill Campbell), an obviously pre-Oscar Jennifer Connelly, a scene-chewing Timothy Dalton and action that doesn't start until halfway through the film and what you have is one of 1991's more disappointing summer flicks.

This was the film which fixed Wayne's image forever as a tough-as-leather patriot with a well-hidden heart.

Against the odds of a feeble script and uninspired direction the duo do, in fact, grow on you, and there are a smattering of silly laughs, most notably a sequence involving a large road kill stashed in the back seat.

As Lowe systematically dismantles Spader's antiseptic existence, Hanson and writer David Koepp handle the thriller plot well, with Lowe effective as the plastically beautiful but deeply dangerous bad influence of the title.

Typically paper thin, the plot and the morality are blown away by the charms of the leading man and a soundtrack that has been hand-picked to get an audience on side. Unadulterated silliness, but harmless fun.

Reynolds was coasting at this point of his career, with zero risk-taking it ends up as a soulless, below-average movie.

Unlike a number of director’s cuts, this version does embellish the original film. It won’t, however, win any converts. Fans should see it again, first-timers should believe the hype. Non-believers should suffer eternal damnation. [2000 re-release]

It's safe, it's mainstream and it's silly, but Guttenberg and Hannah strike up enough chemistry to give this big budget apparition at least a little depth.

A self-consciously grubby and silly slasher that'll be lapped up by gorehounds, but which really belongs on the rental shelves.

Like, so lame.

The twist-filled storyline, which digs up nasty secrets all over the show and offers a satisfying range of suspicious suspects and a truly disgusting killer, remains gripping, and the excellent, understated lead performances don't harp on the racial angle in that embarassing fashion which makes so many Socialy Significant films instantly dated.

A fair-to-middling auto-noir with a hole in the middle roughly the size of its leading man’s head.

De Niro's little known masterclass makes this essential viewing.

Energetically humourless, with travelogue and circus footage inserted between the dog-piss and big boob jokes.

Labyrintine and hypnotic, there's undoubtedly more style than substance to the film, but Von Trier manages to blind and bewilder his audience in a truly masterful manner.

Impressive visual invention by Nimoy and the reliability of his cast mean that Trek III does more good than harm to a franchise still competing with it's younger, more tehnologically advanced adversaries.

Loud and ludicrous, The Jerk is a strong contender for the funniest film of all time.

Always a spoof rather than a homage, this comedy soon realises there's only so many laughs you can plunder from the heavy premise and the repetitive carriages.

The blend of Schrader's script, Scorsese's direction and De Niro's performance is both riveting and unnerving. A film that will stay with you forever.

Enigmatic and fascinating.

Pallid doesn't do it. This is offensively bad in every department and should be left to rot in a vault somewhere.

A solid, enjoyable, beautifully animated Disney movie, but one not quite out of the top drawer.

For Freeman's first feature as director, the end result is enjoyable but given his strong roles over the years, somehow more was expected. The equally powerful Glover gives a memorable performance in an interesting film that will inspire and educate.

Directed by Tony Bill and written by Mitch Markowitz, there are far worse comedies than Crazy People out there on the market and Dudley Moore's adverts are, at times, pretty darn hilarious.

A welcome surprise, containing more bona fide scares than Romero's vision, while paying grand lip service to the old master. Truly worthy of that famous title.

Unashamedly sentimental, but all the better for it.

With so many films dedicated to the agonies of filmmaking, Singin’ overflows with the pleasure of movie creation, stitching together references to Hollywood history with more alacrity than Tarantino. One of the highpoints of hoofin’ history but, more importantly, an unadulterated joy.

Possibly not the worst animated feature the House Of Mouse has produced, but certainly stumbling around the darker recesses of the Disney vault.

It's a million miles from MTV chic; instead a timeless record of a timeless band, now fifty-somethings uniting an everyman/woman/child audience. Feel the power.

Even while laughing at lines like, “Black people don’t do bungee-jumping, it’s too much like lynching,” you’re still left thinking that the funniest man in the building was not actually in front of the camera.

Douglas and Turner make a great double act in this exuberantly directed adventure movie with a great start turn from the always enjoyable De Vito. Good stuff.