Movie Review: The Getaway (1994)

Genre: Crime Thriller  

Director: Roger Donaldson  

Starring: Alec Baldwin, Kim Basinger, Michael Madsen, Jennifer Tilly, James Woods, Richard Farnsworth, Philip Seymour Hoffman  

Running Time: 116 minutes  

Synopsis: Master thief "Doc" McCoy (Alec Baldwin) and his wife Carol (Kim Basinger) join fellow criminal Rudy (Michael Madsen) to free a drug cartel member, but after the job Rudy abandons Doc, who spends time in a Mexican jail. Carol trades sexual favours with crime lord Benyon (James Woods) in exchange for Doc's freedom, and Benyon again partners Doc with Rudy to hold up an Arizona dog racing track. The theft turns violent, Rudy attempts a double-cross, but Doc and Carol end up with the heist money and on the run to El Paso, hotly pursued by Rudy and Benyon's men.

What Works Well: This faithful remake of the 1972 Sam Peckinpah original offers sun-scorched southwest locations, well-staged action scenes, and an enjoyable collection of bad and worse criminals doggedly plotting against each other. Kim Basinger is a significant upgrade on Ali MacGraw, and the heat between real-life couple Baldwin and Basinger is intensified by Doc's understandable annoyance at his wife's sexual liaison with Benyon. 

What Does Not Work As Well: While the production is slick and competent, it's also hard to justify. Alec Baldwin tries to exude a sense of cool but is no match for Steve McQueen, and many of the weaknesses carry over from the original. These include Rudy's cartoonish ability to escape death, and his prolonged side-quest romance with a veterinarian's lusty wife (Jennifer Tilly). Doc's pursuit of an unworthy low-level train station thief only serves to prolong the running time.

Key Quote:

Rudy Travis: It's been my experience that having friends is overrated.

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Movie Review: Even Money (2006)

Genre: Gambling Drama  

Director: Mark Rydell  

Starring: Kim Basinger, Danny DeVito, Kelsey Grammer, Tim Roth, Forest Whitaker, Ray Liotta, Carla Gugino  

Running Time: 113 minutes  

Synopsis: Aspiring author Carolyn (Kim Basinger) is addicted to slot machines, but keeps her problem a secret from husband Tom (Ray Liotta). At the casino she meets and forms an empathy bond with has-been magician Walter (Danny DeVito). Clyde (Forest Whitaker) is deep in gambling debts owed to bookie Augie (Jay Mohr), and pressures his brother Godfrey (Nick Cannon), a star college basketball athlete, into shaving points. Both Augie and Walter have reasons to connect with ruthless criminal Victor (Tim Roth), who controls the biggest illegal gambling network on behalf of the reclusive Ivan. Meanwhile, police detective Brunner (Kelsey Grammer) tries to keep a lid on escalating violence in the gambling world.

What Works Well: This anthology benefits from the pervasive down-but-keep-digging psychology of gambling, with key characters deep into the addiction morass and far from seeking help. Kim Basinger and Forest Whitaker add star power to the doldrums, and allow the separate stories of Carolyn and Clyde to quickly develop within the efficient running time. Tim Roth contributes venom to Victor's heartless dean of crime, while Kelsey Grammer fits perfectly into a frumpled detective's overcoat, his defeated attitude saluting the human propensity for self-destruction.

What Does Not Work As Well: A sub-plot featuring Augie's partner in the bookie business Murph and his girlfriend (Carla Gugino) just gets in the way. Overall, emotions are confined to plastic predictability, and the resolutions default to tidyness carrying bags of faux poignancy.

Key Quote:

Detective Brunner (narrating): The question is...what are you willing to lay on the line?

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Movie Review: The Burning Plain (2008)

Genre: Drama  

Director: Guillermo Arriaga  

Starring: Charlize Theron, Kim Basinger, Jennifer Lawrence  

Running Time: 107 minutes  

Synopsis: The story unfolds in a non-linear structure across several timelines. In New Mexico, Gina (Kim Basinger) and Nick (Joaquim de Almeida) embark on an affair, although they are both married and raising families. They die in a fire at their secluded RV love nest. Gina's daughter Mariana (Jennifer Lawrence) and Nick's son Santiago (J.D. Pardo) are unexpectedly drawn to each other by the tragedy. Years later, an accident prompts crop duster Carlos (José María Yazpik) to search for Sylvia (Charlize Theron), a high-end Oregon restaurant hostess stumbling through unsatisfying relationships.

What Works Well: Writer and director Guillermo Arriaga unfurls a lyrically intriguing, multi-generational drama about fortuitous love filling gaps caused by calamitous loss. The fragmented structure spans two environmentally opposing locations (the sun-drenched south and dreary northwest), underlining the universality of sorrow punctured by opportunities for joy. The scattered scenes elegantly self-assemble into a rational whole, with Kim Basinger, Charlize Theron, and Jennifer Lawrence delivering complex performances fueled by pain, disappointment, and the willingness to embrace risk - for better or worse.

What Does Not Work As Well: The non-existent investigation into the RV fire at the heart of the drama is a plot hole that grows in prominence.

Conclusion: Desires, resentments, and regrets also burn through the years.



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Movie Review: Third Person (2013)

A multi-story drama and romance, Third Person explores themes of loss and trust. While enjoying a spectacular cast in fine form, the pacing is lackadaisical and the narrative commonalities emerge too late.

The film presents three seemingly unrelated stories set in three different cities. At a Paris hotel, Michael (Liam Neeson) is a Pulitzer Award winning writer working on his latest book. He is separated from his wife Elaine (Kim Basinger) as they both deal with a family tragedy. Michael is joined in Paris by his lover Anna (Olivia Wilde), a vivacious aspiring writer. The relationship between Michael and Anna is passionate and tumultuous as she deals with a secret of her own.

In Rome, Scott (Adrien Brody) is an underhanded garment businessman, specializing in stealing and copying haute couture designs. Scott is still grieving a personal loss, and at bar he meets single mom Monika (Moran Atias). She needs money to rescue her daughter from human smugglers, and Scott finds himself irresistibly drawn to her plight.

In New York, Julia (Mila Kunis) is a perpetually late mother desperately working with her lawyer Theresa (Maria Bello) to win back the right to visit her young son. Julia was accused of harming her child, a charge she denies, but her artist husband Richard (James Franco) now has sole custody. Julia accepts a job as a hotel maid to make ends meet and to prove to a court psychologist that she deserves a chance to spend time with her son.

Written and directed by Paul Haggis, Third Person is tantalizingly close to being a good film, but unfortunately lands on the wrong side of emotionally static. The exploration of loss, yearning and the search for healing is worthwhile and handled with sensitivity. But all three stories start saddled with the heavy baggage of guilt, misfortune and grief, and that is where they stay. A few revelations work their way into the narratives, but the overarching cloud of gloom settles in early and never yields.

Given the prevailing lack of forward progression, at 137 minutes the film is too long. Haggis labours towards a final twist knotting the three stories together, but this is a case of genuinely bad timing. The final revelations tumble forth a few minutes before the end credits, and while the resolution is decent, it arrives well past the point of rescue.

Michael's fierce relationship with Anna is the central story, and works its way to the film's one startling moment. Scott's descent into Monika's world is more of a slow burn and a protracted case of who is playing who, and suffers from too much repetition. With more dedicated exposition, both chapters could be imagined as the basis for fine stand-alone films. In contrast Julia's struggle to prove herself worthy of visiting her son is remarkably slight and a relative mismatch in depth and quality.

The cast almost rescues the film, and the one benefit of the long running time is that many of the stars get to sink their teeth into the characters. Neeson and Wilde are most prominent, but Brody, Atias and Kunis all grab the substantive opportunities to shine.

Third Person looks for balms to help heal open wounds of guilt and regain lost trust. Regrettably, the long-winded routes to salvation prove to be tortuously dour.

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Movie Review: 9½ Weeks (1986)

A romantic drama drenched in eroticism, 9½ Weeks hints at a serious exploration of an emotionally perilous sex-obsessed relationship. But the film too often betrays its subject matter with an over-glamorized aesthetic.

In New York, divorced art gallery employee Elizabeth McGraw (Kim Basinger) meets and starts a relationship with handsome, mysterious and very rich Wall Street trader John Gray (Mickey Rourke). John expresses full devotion to Elizabeth, but also pressures her into kinky sex, including playing with blindfolds, food, cross dressing, sex in public, increasing levels of submission / domination scenarios, and threesomes.

Elizabeth is worried but also enthralled and plays along, captivated by the attention and the new experiences. Gradually she finds her limits, and has to decide how far she can tolerate John's proclivities.

Directed by Adrian Lyne and based on a semi-autobiographical novel by Elizabeth McNeill (a pseudonym for Ingeborg Day), 9½ Weeks pushed into new territory for mainstream films in its on-screen portrayal of raw human sexuality. Riding a bumpy wave of controversy, the film initially bombed in the United States but found an audience in Europe. The movie is sometimes erotic, often boring and always frustrating.

A serious and worthwhile story of a vulnerable woman falling under the spell of a charismatic all-powerful man and yielding to a sexual arrangement both thrilling and uncomfortable is hidden under layers of style emphasizing eroticism at the expense of compelling emotional drama. Lyne creates a combination of style-drenched music video and soft-core pornography, celebrating a minimalistic script, little dialogue, and plenty of silhouettes, rain spray, and gyrations to thumping music. The sets are sleek, with the SoHo art gallery and John's bachelor pad representing streamlined ideals.

The character development takes a back seat, and for a film with only the two principals, Elizabeth and John are short changed and reduced to sketches. They do exchange the most rudimentary of backstories, but these are written in shorthand and in John's case arrive way too late to resonate. Instead of investing in the characters and taking substantive risks 9½ Weeks defaults to plenty of creatively filmed animal magnetism set to sensual music, with Joe Crocker's You Can Leave Your Hat On, the soundtrack to Elizabeth's private striptease for John (no, she's not wearing a hat), best signifying the film's intentions.

Mickey Rourke does not help matters by gliding through the film on a wave of handsome visual appeal and nothing else: his perpetual smirk gets annoying after the first 10 minutes, yet never departs his face. Kim Basinger, in one of her best roles, does all the heavy lifting to convey a woman torn between the potential for genuine romance and sexual pleasure dancing on the edge of degradation and danger.

25 years later British writer E.L.James would import her own version of wealthy businessman Mr. John Gray into the Twilight young adult series, borrowing many of the themes from 9½ Weeks to create Fifty Shades Of Grey. The world of 2011 was more ready to embrace a story of a woman's fantasy bumping up against a powerful but damaged man's kinky sexual demands. Back in 1986, Elizabeth and John were the pioneers for exploring chic displays of twisted pleasure, winning points for artistic merit if not much else.

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Movie Review: L.A. Confidential (1997)

A film noir masterpiece set in Los Angeles of the early 1950s, L.A. Confidential features a convoluted, multi-layered and character-rich story of crime, corruption and conspiracy.

The arrest and imprisonment of crime boss Mickey Cohen creates a vacuum at the top of the Los Angeles underworld. The police department tries to project a clean cut image through the sanitized television show Badge of Honor, but the reality is that the force, under the command of Captain Dudley Smith (James Cromwell), is rife with corruption.

Three officers go about their careers with very different attitudes. Jack Vincennes (Kevin Spacey) loves the glamorous life and colludes with scum journalist Sid Hudgens (Danny DeVito), who publishes the Hush- Hush tabloid, to stage high profile narcotics arrests. Ambitious Ed Exley (Guy Pearce) has a strong moral compass inherited from his father, a deceased cop, and wants to be promoted to Detective Lieutenant as quickly as possible. Bud White (Russell Crowe) is a hot head, quick to settle disputes with physical violence, but he also may be smarter than he looks. When a jail cell brawl gives the police department a black eye, Exley earns the wrath of his colleagues, and a promotion, by naming names.

Despite Cohen's arrest the department struggles to put a lid on increasing levels of street violence. Cohen's former associates are methodically gunned down, then a bloody multiple murder is committed at the Nite Owl coffee shop, with ex-cop and White's former partner Dick Stensland among the victims, as well as porn starlet Susan Lefferts (Amber Smith). A trio of Negroes is suspected of committing the Nite Owl murders and Exley becomes a hero for bringing them conclusively to justice.

But White pursues the Lefferts angle and uncovers a high-class pornography, prostitution and blackmail ring operated by businessman Pierce Patchett (David Strathairn), who forces his girls to undergo plastic surgery to resemble famous movie stars. White starts a steamy relationship with Lynn Bracken (Kim Basinger), the Patchett girl made to look like Veronica Lake. Exley starts to have doubts about the perpetrators behind the Nite Owl case, White starts to feel used by Smith, and Vincennes finally gets disgusted with his own attitude when a gay sting operation goes wrong. The three men still don't like each other but have to start cooperating to uncover what is really going on in the L.A. crime world.

Directed by Curtis Hanson, who co-wrote the the Academy Award winning script with Brian Helgeland, L.A. Confidential oozes style, substance and attitude. The adaptation of the James Ellroy book remains coherent despite the various narrative threads, multiplicity of characters, and various personal and hidden agendas. Curtis and Helgeland expertly weave together a hard-hitting story of uncompromising violence and sex that celebrates unique characters, avoids buddy movie trappings, and maximizes the value out of strong and opposing personalities forced to co-exist.

In focusing almost equally on three protagonist, none of them too likable, L.A. Confidential sets itself apart from most other crime films. Vincennes, Exley and White have quite a few more flaws than redeeming features, and it is fascinating to watch these men evolve, grapple with their own personalities and then overcome their mutual resentment just enough to cooperate, without ever giving up on who they are. Russell Crowe and Guy Pearce were relative unknowns but quickly establish a strong screen presence. Spacey is the perfect fit for the role of Vincennes, the cop possessing a perfect understanding of what Los Angeles is all about: show business and personal promotion first, everything else for sale.

Further adding to the potent mix of masculinity are Dudley Smith as the uncompromising police captain and Pierce Patchett as the shadowy businessman with a side business. Smith and Patchett are power brokers in a city intoxicated by power and sex, and they have long since learned that bending the rules under the veneer of respectability is the way to get things done.

Even minor characters prove to be important. Sleazy narrator Sid Hudgens stages and reports on arrests in equal measure, less interested in the news and much more interested in serving up scandalous headlines and photos. Former police officer Buzz Meeks and the disgraced Dick Stensland leave the force but don't leave the criminal world too far. Tough, big but dim, they both find themselves over their heads as the crime wave intensifies.

Not exactly a femme fatale but more of a willing victim with the irresistible weapon of seductiveness, Lynn Bracken is the one woman in a plot dominated by aggressive men. Kim Basinger is surprisingly effective combining unconstrained sexuality with vulnerability and was rewarded with the Best Supporting Actress Academy Award.

While it is a challenge to keep track of the many characters and plot complexities, the payoff is immense. As the threads come together, the film soars to heights of proficiency, the bodies are uncovered, the conspiracies revealed, the criminals and crime fighters emerge from the shadows and collide in an exhilarating climax.

The cinematography by Dante Spinotti captures a Los Angeles still growing into itself, baking under the sun, selling an image manufactured by the Hollywood dream factory but also consumed by corruption at every level. An evocative, jazz-infused Jerry Goldsmith score perfectly complements the ambiance.

Under the harsh sunshine and in the West Coast heat, L.A. Confidential is dark, moody, and magically compelling.

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Movie Review: The Nice Guys (2016)

A combination of film noir and buddy comedy, The Nice Guys has nice touches of humour and an excellent dynamic between stars Russell Crowe and Ryan Gosling. Despite a high fun quotient, the film eventually veers towards a manic overload of flying bullets at the expense of more cerebral pursuits.

In Los Angeles of 1977, Jackson Healy (Crowe) is an unlicensed bruiser who intimidates aggressors away from their intended victim. Working on behalf of the elusive Amelia (Margaret Qualley), Healy tangles with incompetent private detective Holland March (Ryan Gosling), who has been asking questions about Amelia. March's client is Mrs. Glenn, the dotty aunt of the recently deceased porn star Misty Mountains (Murielle Telio), and he has been wondering why Amelia showed up at Misty's home shortly after her death.

Healy is confronted by hit men known only as Older Guy (Keith David) and Blue Face (Beau Knapp) who are also looking for Amelia, prompting him to team up with March to try and find her. As the two men bumble through the investigation, Healy boorish and March clueless, March's 13 year old daughter Holly (Angourie Rice) proves to be the most astute detective. It soon becomes apparent that everyone associated with Misty's last porn film project is in mortal danger. Amelia's mother Judith (Kim Basinger), an influential state bureaucrat, hires March and Healy to find her missing daughter before the wild assassin John Boy (Matt Bomer) gets to her.

Directed and co-written by Shane Black, The Nice Guys rides a cool 1970s vibe with a story inspired by the era: the smog choking Los Angeles, collusion among Detroit automakers, pool-side parties filled with debauchery, and the scandalous emergence of porn films into mainstream consciousness all make their way into the script. But the most powerful current running through the film is the crackling spark between Jackson Healy and Holland March, an abrasive partnership that thankfully maintains an edge and never quite descends into friendship.

The insertion of March's young daughter Holly into the middle of a mystery is a brave move. Black does not hesitate to place Holly in harm's way, whether in the company of porn stars or in the path of assassins and a hail of bullets. Thanks to a pitch-perfect performance from Angourie Rice, Holly also gives her dad and his new associate a key link to their humanity in a world gone mad. Holly wants her father to be a better detective and knows which buttons to push to try and get him there. She also wants to believe that Healy can be a better man than he is, and prods him down that path in the disarming manner that only 13 year olds can muster.

The film noir elements are more prominent in the front half of the film, as the early unexplained murder and quick descent into the sordid world of porn productions, second-rate detectives, third-rate hoodlums and a convoluted missing woman mystery evoke the best aspects of the noir style. Black unfortunately moves away from the more clever shadings and tilts towards overkill as the film progresses, and the final third features plenty of wild shoot-outs and mindless action, machine guns and mayhem replacing subtlety and refinement.

Ryan Gosling and Russell Crowe establish a personality-based rapport early on, and stick close to the realities of their character. Gosling allows March's occasional spark to come through but otherwise plays to perfection the disinterested, somewhat depressed and not-very-good detective happiest at the bottom of the bottle. Crowe, with his increasing heft beginning to resemble John Goodman proportions, is more animated as Healy and leads with his fists, but he also allows a latent humanity to emerge at key moments. Black hints at downbeat personal histories for both men, allowing Gosling and Crowe to build their characters on the vague wreckage of broken dreams.

The Nice Guys know how to have a good time. They may need to learn to stand each other, but they will also have plenty of groovy adventures along the way.

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Movie Review: No Mercy (1986)

A dim policeman's revenge thriller, No Mercy throws two photogenic stars into a swamp without a script.

Chicago police detective Eddie Jillette (Richard Gere) and his partner Joe (Gary Basaraba) pretend to be hitmen for hire to try and entrap the suave Paul Deveneux (Terry Kinney) and his apparent girlfriend Michel (Kim Basinger). Paul wants New Orleans gangster Losado (Jeroen Krabbé) dead, but Losado and his goons strike first, killing Paul with a rocket launcher and knifing Joe to death for good measure. It turns out that Michel is Losado's girl, and she may have led Paul and Joe into a deathtrap.

Eddie swears revenge, and heads to New Orleans. Through Paul's brother Allan (William Atherton) he tracks down Michel and abducts her to use as bait, unleashing Losado's fury. As Paul and Michel flee from Losado's marauding gang and fend off the local cops, they start a steamy romance before a final bloody climax in an empty hotel.

No Mercy has some good location shooting in the New Orleans area, and if anything director Richard Pearce overplays his hand by insisting that every shot feature a garish neon sign, a melancholy trumpet player, or old wooden structures lining picturesque streets.

And that's about all No Mercy has going for it. Richard Gere is most unconvincing as a tough cop bent on revenge. His dreamy eyes and wavy hair suggest a poet rather than a badass, and he never moves past uttering cliches. Basinger is the local beauty who insists that she is not a whore but rather a victim of being sold to Losado at a young age. It really doesn't matter: Michel remains an empty vessel, a blank woman to fight over for no good reason.

And despite a committed performance from Krabbé, Losado is evil just because he is evil, and the limp Jim Carabatsos script barely attempts to explain what kind of criminal activity Losado is involved in deep within the Louisiana bayous.

The action scenes are at the competence level of the Death Wish sequels, where dozens of heavily armed bad guys are routinely outsmarted by the one hero. The problem with No Mercy is that unlike most mindless action movies it actually takes itself seriously, but singularly lacks the talent to be anything other than painfully juvenile drivel.

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The Movies Of Kim Basinger

All movies starring Kim Basinger and reviewed on the Ace Black Movie Blog are linked below:

Never Say Never Again (1983)

The Natural (1984)

9½ Weeks (1986)

No Mercy (1986)

Batman (1989)

The Marrying Man (1991)

The Getaway (1994)

L.A. Confidential (1997)

8 Mile (2002)

Even Money (2006)

The Burning Plain (2008)

Third Person (2013)

The Nice Guys (2016)

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The Movie Star Index is here.

Movie Review: The Marrying Man (1991)

A romantic comedy built on a mutually obsessive relationship, The Marrying Man doesn't escape all the traps of the genre, but does take some welcome risks with its lead characters.

It's the 1950s in Los Angeles, and Charley Pearl (Alec Baldwin) is a multi-millionaire playboy, the heir to a toothpaste empire. After years of partying he plans to finally settle down and marry Adele (Elizabeth Shue), the daughter of studio mogul Lew Horner (Robert Loggia). On a bachelor party road trip to Las Vegas with his buddies, and just six days before the wedding, Charley sets his eyes on smoking hot lounge singer Vicki Anderson (Kim Basinger). The attraction between them is immediate and irresistible, but the only problem is that Vicki is the girlfriend of ruthless mobster Bugsy Siegel (Armand Assante).

Fortunately for Charley, Bugsy was anyway about to dump Vicki, and as his poetic act of revenge for the couple's dalliance he forces Vicki and Charley to get married at gunpoint, to ruin Charley's impending wedding to Adele. Lew is of course perfectly livid that his daughter has been wronged, but the forced marriage starts a prolonged on-again, off-again tumultuous relationship between Charley and Vicki, the two unable to co-exist as a committed couple and also unable to be apart from each other for any length of time. In what becomes a recurring cycle, divorces are always followed by fortuitous meetings and re-marriages, as they try to navigate a way towards happiness.

The Marrying Man does suffer from some mundane patches and uneven emotions, but overall it is better than it deserves to be thanks to an unusually audacious Neil Simon script that pushes the relationship between Charley and Vickie towards a rare extreme of oscillation. Just when the plot threatens to collapse into the realm of the ridiculous, it touches the magic glow of two flawed souls destined to be with each other. The film's charm emerges from their struggle and insistence on trying every wrong way to thrive before stumbling into harmony.

Director Jerry Rees paints with vivid colours, the dusty Las Vegas of the 1950s coming alive thanks to the people rather than the neon. The Marrying Man also benefits from Kim Basinger at her luminous best, doing her own singing and quite convincing as a local lounge diva, her voice and glowing aura casting a spell through the haze of smoke and alcohol. A young Alec Baldwin finds the space between free spirited playboy and a man thunderstruck by the woman who will be both his life and his misery.

The humour is low key, although Robert Loggia briefly does inject a potent dose of hilarity when he blows a large gasket upon learning that his daughter has been ditched. Paul Reiser leads a breezy supporting cast as the leader of Charley's group of friends, while Armand Assante gets only a couple of scenes but leaves an impression as a slick Bugsy Siegel.

As romantic comedies go, The Marrying Man pushes into new directions, finding enough unexpected pleasures to raise a decent spark - enough anyway for Baldwin and Basinger to subsequently become a real-life married couple.

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Movie Review: Never Say Never Again (1983)

An independently produced but big-budget James Bond adventure, Never Say Never Again has Sean Connery returning for the last time to the role of Bond after a 12 year absence. He enjoys poking gentle fun at his image in an otherwise unnecessary remake of Thunderball.

While at a health clinic to get back into shape, Bond (Connery) notices a nervous patient called Jack Petachi (Gavan O'Herlihy), an airforce pilot, undergoing a retinal procedure and being tended to by the luscious Fatima Blush (Barbara Carrera), a SPECTRE agent pretending to be a nurse. Bond survives an assassination attempt, then Petachi uses his fake eye to help SPECTRE steal two nuclear warheads from NATO before being killed by Blush. The plot is the brainchild of Maximillian Largo (Klaus Maria Brandauer), a senior SPECTRE operative who now wants to blackmail the world.

Bond tracks down Largo to a yacht in the Bahamas, where he meets Domino Petachi (Kim Basinger), held by Largo as a combination hostage and lover, and as a lever to control her brother Jack. Bond and Largo duel over an elaborate video game, then Bond attempts to turn Domino into an ally by informing her of her brother's death. After a stop in Nice where Bond tangles with Blush, Bond has to try and rescue Domino while stopping Largo from proceeding with plans to bury one of the warheads below the oilfields of the Middle East.

Co-produced by Kevin McClory as part of his long-running claim to elements of Ian Fleming's Thunderball story, Never Say Never Again enjoys a reasonably brisk opening 45 minutes. Connery quickly gets back into the groove, not shying away from plenty of comments about his age, and criticisms about his abilities from M (Edward Fox). At 53 years old Connery looks passably fit and reasonably believable as a secret agent, and he brings enough intensity and his trademark confidence to generate satisfactory dynamism.

The scenes at the health clinic, the video duel with Largo, and the tango dance with Domino are sharply executed and classy, and carry enough of a dangerous edge to build up adequate momentum. But the film then stalls quite noticeably, with the second half drifting into slow moving non-event. Largo's yacht seems to take forever to reach its final destination. A detour to an encounter with Arab slave traders proves to be a perfunctory excuse to tie a half-dressed Domino to the stake and surround her with medieval tribesmen foaming at the mouth, as a hackneyed set-up for an unconvincing rescue. Rowan Atkinson does not help matters with a comic relief appearance as a Foreign Office representative in the Bahamas, neither do ridiculous remote-controlled live sharks.

A motorcycle chase between Bond and Fatima Blush livens things up, the maniacal assassin proving to be a colourful and demented adversary. Barbara Carrera has plenty of fun in the role, her wild costumes and supreme self-confidence creating a combustible combination. In contrast, Basinger is given next to nothing to do, her early dance with Connery the only highlight as she gradually disappears into a passive non-entity. Her late commitment to avenge her brother's death is unconvincing. Brandauer gets plenty of screentime but is nevertheless one of the less memorable Bond villains, while Max Von Sydow appears briefly as a Blofeld.

Director Irvin Kershner sleepily steers the action towards a limp climax, a shoot-out in an underwater cave where Largo's men are clumsily attempting to place the warhead just so, giving Bond and the CIA's Felix Leiter (Bernie Casey) plenty of time to mount an offensive. Never Say Never Again uncovers just enough of the old Connery magic to justify the effort, but although never is a long time, even he can now say enough is enough.

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Movie Review: Batman (1989)

The film that reignited interest in the adaptation of comics to the screen, Batman is a curious mess. An engrossing dark visual aesthetic is ultimately wasted on a miserable story that simply runs out of script.

In Gotham City, a mysterious giant bat is terrifying the city's muggers. Newspaper reporter Alexander Knox (Robert Wuhl) is keen to get to the bottom of the story, and is soon joined in his hunt by famous photographer Vicki Vale (Kim Basinger). The batman is actually wealthy businessman Bruce Wayne (Michael Keaton), out to counter the crime wave sweeping across the city. Vicki and Wayne are soon having dinner and falling in love.

Meanwhile, the criminal masterminds who control mayhem in the city are having a war of their own. Mastermind Carl Grissom (Jack Palance) attempts to get rid of his partner Jack Napier (Jack Nicholson). Napier is double-crossed in a set-up, and drops into a vat of chemicals. After a botched attempt at plastic surgery, Napier transforms himself into the hideous Joker, a mad villain stuck with a wicked smile, pasty white skin and coloured hair. The Joker gets his revenge on Grissom and unleashes his fury on the citizens of Gotham City, but finds Batman in his way at every turn.

Filmed in the midst of job action by Hollywood writers, Batman's first half holds together but the back end disintegrates into what can only be described as a narrative farce. The characters are abandoned in their outfits, almost literally wondering what to do next. Some supposedly high profile characters, notably Billy Dee Williams as district attorney Harvey Dent, struggle to even justify their existence. When the Joker gets ready to unleash deadly gas from balloons, Batman spends an eternity inexplicably zooming around the sky in his Batplane, doing an excellent imitation of a test drive for a new toy just long enough for the Joker to start causing carnage.

But the disaster is complete during an endless climax that starts in confusion and ends in disarray, the Joker forcing Vicki to climb the stairs of a cathedral for the purpose of...dancing with her? Batman gets real close to demonstrating "make it up as you go along" right on the screen, and at a total production cost of $48 million.

With no coherent story to tell, director Tim Burton fills his imagery with Jack Nicholson, the Joker stealing the movie from Batman. While Nicholson is initially undoubtedly entertaining with his boyish devil charm, in this case too much of the Joker is not a good thing. Nicholson's ugly mug and irritating laugh are overexposed to distraction, his demeanour quickly growing tiresome rather than menacing.  In comparison, Michael Keaton's Batman is plain and boring, the feeble attempts to link Jack Napier to Bruce Wayne's childhood agonies missing the emotional mark.

The supposed romance between Bruce Wayne and Vicki Vale equally rings hollow, and appears driven by nothing except the requirements of the half-baked script. Kim Basinger does little to convince anyone that she is a celebrated photojournalist.

Burton does score all his points in delivering a stunning visual style to Batman.  The mythical Gotham City is industrial revolution meets steam punk, a place where the sun never shines, the buildings are all black, and everything is both imposing and just slightly askew. The costumes and set designs are memorable, and the Batmobile is an impressive piece of indestructible machinery. Given that all the action takes place in the absence of natural light, Burton does well to maintain clarity during the movie's more hectic kinetic moments.

Despite its weaknesses, Batman created the template for releasing, marketing and capitalizing on the in-built audience for comic book adaptations, a franchise-creating formula that has lasted for a generation. Comics fans will always flock to see their superheroes graduate from motionless panels to moving pictures, but even the best heroes need the help of a meaningful plot to truly soar.

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Movie Review: The Natural (1984)

The Natural ends with contrived fireworks and a shower of sparks, a case of blatant celebratory self-congratulation that has the potential to cause nausea. But accepted on its terms as an unapologetic baseball fairytale, The Natural is a feel good movie that survives the gallons of sweet syrup dumped onto the screen. The screenplay unfolds like a child's bed-time story, but there is enough talent on display to touch the heart of more mature sensibilities.

It's the 1920s. Young baseball pitcher Roy Hobbs (Robert Redford) appears to have superlative talent, and is called for a try-out by the Chicago Cubs. Leaving behind his sweetheart Iris (Glenn Close), Hobbs is seduced on his journey by Harriet Byrd (Barbara Hershey), an unstable woman who shoots and severely wounds him in her hotel room, apparently ending his professional career.

Sixteen years later, now well into his thirties and having converted from pitching to hitting, Hobbs joins the struggling (and fictional) New York Knights after being spotted by a minor league scout. Hobbs struggles to convince coach Pop Fisher (Wilford Brimley) and his assistant Red (Richard Farnsworth) that he deserves his shot in the majors. When he is finally given the opportunity, his incredible hitting ability revitalizes the Knights, who go on a winning run. Journalist Max Mercy (Robert Duvall) starts snooping around to uncover Hobbs' past, while team owner The Judge (Robert Prosky) deploys the sultry Memo Paris (Kim Basinger) to distract Hobbs, as The Judge needs the Knights to lose in order for him to gain full control of the team.

The script conjured up by Roger Towne and Phil Dusenberry cleans up the harder edges of Bernard Malamud's novel, and strips down the story to the simplest good versus evil narrative, with the King Arthur legend providing the base inspiration. Director Barry Levinson plays along, bathing Glenn Close as the good Iris with white light straight from heaven, with only the singing angels and spiritual harps missing from her scenes. The evildoers, meanwhile, hatch their devious schemes from literally dark caves, Robert Prosky's The Judge refusing to even turn on the lights in his cavernous office, and Levinson just barely managing to resist adding prolonged maniacal laughter to his scenes.

Fortunately, Robert Redford and Robert Duvall are around to add some adult-worthy entertainment. Redford's natural wholesomeness shines through, and at least he is susceptible to the dangerous charms of first Harriet and then Memo, otherwise Roy Hobbs would have been fully expected to walk on water. It is left to Duvall to bring forth the crustiness of the baseball observer, his Max Mercy able to look past Hobbs' heroics and search for the hidden story behind the hits, baseball being nothing if not a sport that values legacy.

Also contributing to The Natural's charm are Wilford Brimley as coach Pop Fisher and Richard Farnsworth as his assistant Red, two baseball men well past their sell-by date and living out the closing days of an abandoned dream. Fisher is so busy lamenting lost opportunities that he needs Red's help to notice Roy Hobbs as the gift from the gods, dropping into his lap for a final drive at glory.

For once three women get crucial roles in a sports movie. Hershey sinks her stinger into a short but unforgettable turn as black widow Harriet Byrd. Kim Basinger is adequate as the resident distraction deployed by The Judge to gain control of the team, while Glenn Close makes the most of the glow that Levinson bequeaths onto her, Iris unwittingly controlling Hobbs' destiny across the years.

The Natural may have surrendered opportunities to deliver a darker, more thoughtful story. But it does achieve its admittedly less ambitious objective: pure mythological escapism centred on the baseball diamond.

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