Category Archives: Uncategorized

Heist (2001).

The dialogue is so unnatural in this subpar thriller it grates; some of it registers like it’s been lifted from another of the writer’s scripts and shoehorned in just because it sounded cool. There are many (too many) moments of characters shouting at one another in an attempt to up the drama, but the result is probably not what the filmmakers intended: exasperating. 

It’s not much of a heist and this would have at least provided a dazzling centrepiece but the film is more interested in leaden dialogue exchanges disguising a by-the-numbers robbery.

Gene Hackman is the reason to watch it. Without the lad, this flick is indistinguishable from its brethren. 

The Element of Freedom (2009).

Desert island material.

This made a bus journey to Stirling cinematic.

The Offence (1973).

The tackiest, most gimmicky slow-motion sequence opens this stagey, plodding bore of a time. It bombards you with the drab and dreary and seems to have no other purpose.

Connery is powerful as always, vulnerable and domineering both at once, but is wasted on a cruddy premise. And the camera ‘effects’ are so shoddy and unnecessary. It’s like a mediocre play but made even worse with superfluous shots which, rather than heighten the drama, merely draw attention to how dramatically damp everything is. 

Heard so much about this movie over the years, the main leitmotif being that it’s a hidden gem. It isn’t.

It’s shite.

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Adolescence (2025). Derivative, boring, pointless. And massively popular.

Stephen Graham features, hence this trumpeted Netflix miniseries had to be given a whirl. 

The verdict: 

Most of the acting is cringe. The desk sergeant is one of the “goonies” from Dead Man’s Shoes (2004) and he has the thesp ability of Mickey Rourke doing an impression of Owen Wilson, but with a northern twang. This was an augury for the rest of proceedings.

The single take aims to go for a certain verisimilitude, I imagine, but it merely serves to elongate the stinky acting that could have been mollified through editing. But without the single take this would merely be another run-of-the-mill inner city crime drama. Which it is. 

So there’s no point to any of this gimmicky tripe other than it being concerned social commentary. That would be commendable, but then the psychobabble commences in episode three and there are entire scenes here lifted right out of Primal Fear (1996).

It’s total pish and I don’t get the hype. Not that I care too much to delve into the reasons for it.

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The Driver (1978). Watch. Promptly repeat.

It’s certifiably COOL and immaculately framed, from a director who understands framing and why it matters. 

Ryan O’Neal is once again in a masterwork in which he’s the only actor you can envisage as the protagonist. No one else did impassive cool like him, and it’s even a cool that suggests dimensions behind the glacial exterior. His career never progressed beyond that ’70s apex because director’s didn’t use him properly, oblivious to the magnetism and effortless insouciance he could radiate within a narrow range.

You don’t need a surfeit of unnecessary dialogue in a movie this visual, which is what movies are, first and foremost. And the verbal exchanges may be minimal, but memorable, nonetheless. 

Why is this so stylish? It’s from 1978. Influential is the term. 

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Zero Day (2025).

Bobby De Niro in his first major TV role, with Jesse Plemons, the thespian formerly known as Meth Damon. I am embarrassed to report the embarrassing antics on display in this terrible miniseries.

It’s all about De Niro being infallible and imperious as the ex-Prez, our immaculately tailored Jack Bauer protagonist for 2025, an eager biographer relaying all the noble details of his presidency to the audience within 10 minutes of screen time. It’s lazy and dull, and the straw that broke this viewer’s back was our humble former chief’s speech at the rubble of an attack; it was like Bush with the bullhorn at Ground Zero, but suffused with your overbearing De Niro moralising.

This is mainly about Bobby trying to show everyone how to be presidential. I terminated the tripe right there, never to return.

Some reviewers are kind to the show. I’m sure it’s compelling if you can tolerate the grandstanding.

Pish.

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American Manhunt: O.J. Simpson.

I’ve lost track of O.J. docs and dramas and docudramas of recent years.

But this is … spellbinding, which is perhaps not the most sensitive way to refer to the official Trial of the Century. 

Only in America could this creature get away with it.

Woman of the Hour (2023).

This kind of nails the age – or how I imagine what this glitzy but grotty period was like. 

I do enjoy a wee slice of ’70s kitsch, even if it features creepy, sleazy men in their element. That and the obligatory strangler. It’s quite depressing viewing when you’re reminded of the media of bygone ages, three networks and no other alternate content. All folk did back in the day, it appears, was supinely plonk themselves in front of a box every evening like veggies, not a modicum of purpose in the endeavour. I’ve been there; I was a cabbage.

Any fool who appears on a game show has to be hampered with serious deep-seated issues, and this includes Ronald Reagan on ‘What’s my Line?‘. And on the serial killer stuff, never trust a stranger possessing the hair of Meat Loaf. 

Good movie.

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Under Siege 2: Dark Territory (1995).

I don’t care that Steven Seagal is a conceited asshole with zero acting talent, Under Siege 2: Dark Territory (1995) is a bloody great movie – funny, thrilling, and better than the first outing. This was when Sensei Seagal’s ego was bananas but could be justified through bone-crunching mayhem that was pulled off so well, you believe it when Casey Ryback doesn’t even get a scratch on him after 90 minutes of knife fights.

Not these days. He’s a fucking pie presently.

Bye for now.

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Slumdog Millionaire (2008).

This was okay but the hoopla and hysteria around it, encapsulated in some quite bonkers spunking on the flick at awards seasons, had me confused. 

I didn’t know it was a multiple Oscar winner, and I don’t know why. My conclusion here is that the Oscars are meaningless and movies aren’t judged outwith the the realm of the political, the contentious – trends trumping genuine art.

It’s a good movie, though. But it’s no masterpiece.

Jai Ho! 

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