Search: Starring John

Given the immediacy, it is perhaps no wonder that the story is leavened with some melodrama and romance, yet watching it now, Basil Dearden's film still has a surprisingly naturalistic aspect.

A horrifying, endearing, contradictory, moving masterpiece.

Most interestingly, the documentary takes us back in time to when Ruth Finley was hired as a girl Friday by the number-one fashion publicist, Eleonor Lambert, who was pivotal in getting American designers the recognition they deserved in the 1940s.

Not quite the eyeful it might have been.

This is not an erotic movie, true there are copious scenes of copulation... but Brass doesn't linger on them long enough for them to become titillating, he has to show something gross and/or bloody in the same scene.

It belongs on the big screen, to a world of cinematic sensation beyond lightweight blockbusters and under-financed independents.

With two locations acting as stage for two very different types of action, the film could easily have fractured. It doesn’t.

Nagy and her screenwriters’ disciplined refusal to pursue grandiose storylines results in a well-earned sense of community.

It's usually Keoghan who gets the acting plaudits, but though he is good as a wannabe bad guy, it's Jarvis who provides the heft, in more ways than one here.

McCall draws on Cardiff's life-long love of painting to adopt a similarly impressionistic style, brushing broad sweeps of anecdote and recollection about the cameraman on to his canvas to create a complex and emotionally engaging picture.

Banua-Simon offers a strong critique of the situation, and particularly the housing crisis. But he also keeps in plenty of, often light-hearted, personal detail about his Uncle Henry, who acts as a guide of sorts to the island.

Nicolas Cage plays against type, retaining his movie star persona, which is not the same as being convincing in the role of a man who lives for opera.

Overall this is an entertaining and intriguing film which deserves more attention than it has historically enjoyed.

The premise questions our storytelling conventions.

A nice study in group dynamic.

Though it is Cox's turn that grabs, it is Konig's that delights.

Unlike many of his other films where there are underlying touches of humor, Polanski plays this one more as a straight comedy.

There’s no compelling moral or psychological dimension, and no direct reason to invest in the characters.

The irreverent score, the gothic art direction, and Mario Tosi’s kaleidoscopic, slithering cinematography coalesce into something mesmeric.

Oddly, Pixar don't seem to have many fresh ideas for wringing humour out of their what-if-we-were-all-cars idea, as a result of which it feels as if it has been awkwardly sandwiched together with the plot from another film.

The Cars That Ate Paris is no ordinary horror film.

How much of this is about Casanova? How much about Malkovich and his continuing public self-examination?

Allen's most morally challenging work since Crimes And Misdemeanors, this takes what is in essence a simple story and finds depths within it which will continue to haunt the viewer long after the closing credits have rolled.

It's never dull and always looks good, although the Sixties have become the Fifties - not a hippie, or civil rights marcher in sight

It’s astonishing to realise that this is Reis’ first screen role.

Straczynski's script is a masterpiece of understatement and restraint, and Angelina Jolie is riveting in the central role.

As a visual piece of pop video-influenced whambammery, it is perfectly pitched.

What is astounding, is the restraint shown by director Gary Winick - nothing takes us from the quiet rural life of America in the Forties.

The reason all this earnestness works is because Raiff really cares about all his characters, taking time to consider each in their own right.

The beauty of Chicken Run is its refusal to accept modernity as having squatting rights in a Yorkshire state of mind. Park's heart is with the comics his dad read.

A dense and dark storyline that is compelling in and of itself, rather than simply ladelling on lots of game-changing twists.

The character is more sentimental, than exacting.

In truth, this is yet one more safe retelling of an old favourite. Not radical at all.

While tolerance levels for this kind of self-consciously arty style will vary, it is hard to fault the fizzing ambition and high-voltage energy that K-Stew and her team bring to the party.

Rather than pursue a nationalist agenda, director Lu Chuan searches for humanity in all his characters, and all his characters are flawed.

The film is refreshingly cynical about a profession that, in cinematic terms, expects every lead actor to be Clarence Darrow.

The message seems to be: you have permission to enjoy yourself - just please, please don't try this at home.

The action, when it comes, is introduced with an impact that will make you drop your popcorn, and you’ll be on the edge of your seat for what follows.

While it's got some quirks it's relatively inoffensive, and if it feels like damning it with faint praise to say it's got nothing drastically wrong with it then fair enough.

An hour-and-a-half of routine gags.

Kubrick's canvas is best enjoyed large, right at the front.

While Heder’s screenplay relies on familiar beats, her writing and direction reveal a compassion and desire to understand each character’s feelings and emotions.

John Malkovich at his most endearingly camp.

Rarely has any actor immersed himself so completely in a role.

The sense of poise created, as people move through spaces or talk back and forth, objects often leaving the frame in one direction as another enters from the opposite side, achieves a soothing rhythm.

16-year-old Andrew Strong has a voice that blows your socks off

It's well directed but even if most of the cast weren't phoning it in they would have real difficulty eliciting sympathy.

The bottom falls out of sanity in a way that, despite being based on real events, feels deeply unsatisfactory.