What have you watched recently? 3D!

I think they could have found someone who at least seemed to occupy the same world as the rest of the cast; Bloom was so dead, so wooden I never bought into the idea of the guy at all. It didn't have to be Crowe but someone who could do the Silent Dignity act without looking lost. Like I said Eva Green alone kinda ate his lunch just with a look

I actually had a hunt for some background but couldn't find anything saying if Bloom was a studio mandate or a choice by Scott's production.

Not sure who, in 2005, would have made a better choice but the extended cut was indeed legitimately fabulous, but constantly undercut by its central paragon of virtue.

Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982)

"As a physician, you of all people should appreciate the dangers of opening old wounds"

God damn but when the scripts of the original series' films let its primary trio off the leash to doodle in the emotional margins, it was that rare form of cinematic alchemy; Shatner, Nimoy and Kelly may not have been the strongest actors individually but their combined energies and chemistry always allowed for the kind of interpersonal & soulful bickering that with good writing, let these actors and characters truly seem like souls who had shared lives & careers together. So much about Kirk's past, and a hitherto unknown past relationship with Dr. Marcus, had to be established yet with this efficient bit of writing so much was communicated to the audience in a single line - then enhanced by Shatner's irritated and wounded reaction to Kelly's affectionate-but-misplaced jibe. Many jokes have been cracked at William Shatner's (in)famous acting style, but films like this did demonstrate that the man could deliver an authenticity when required, especially if the ammunition given was a frailty previously non-existent with Captain James T Kirk. And that's before you even mention that scene, and how well Shatner underplayed Kirks' loss; his broken little "no" such a great counterpoint to his more theatrical and memetic scream of "Khannn!".

Wrath of Khan will always remain the highpoint by approximate consensus with that original Star Trek crew, and something of a "true" starting point for the rest of the run, but watching it so soon after The Motion Picture I really saw the difference in execution and relative productions here. Mostly notably: even if the '79 film suffered from pacing best described as somnambulant, and some ludicrous aesthetic choices, it still put what was a bloated budget on-screen; no expense was spared but an underwhelming box office meant any sequel was gonna get squeezed. So as timeless as the actual meat of Wrath... might still prove to be on yet another rewatch, the still-fresh memory of TMP's splendour only served to spotlight this sequel's ramshackle sets, reused FX from the prior film and an overall, inescapable sense of scruffiness with everything. The Enterprise's bridge sometimes felt distractingly flimsy and thrown together; those more naval inspired uniforms looked great though and it's easy to see how that became such an icon to the franchise. Even as recently as the latest TV show, Strange New Worlds, we would see that uniform get use; to an extent, it's the Star Trek uniform.

All that said, here was where the 1979 film's seeds started to bare fruit, and perhaps why this film's themes have become more resonant as I trickled towards my mid-40s: here was a script front-loaded with middle-aged angst and confronting the consequences of ones choices from youth; oh sure, the actual thrills of the two warring ships were as fabulously tense and thrilling as ever - and I'd love to see this film get the same remaster The Motion Picture received and its reworked FX - but everything played out against a melodramatic backdrop of age, growth and change.

The larger subtextual meat was obviously the arrival of a former love and the son Kirk walked away from, dismissed from his mind as some faux rational choice, but it was also in iconography like Kirk's sudden need for glasses or his ship crewed with raw recruits, their faces barely past their teens. Children would die while Kirk grappled with the notion that his bravado might no longer suffice; and by no accounts was any of this ever rubbed in the audience's faces, but I admired the script's thematic foundation to let it all just simmer.

While it ends on a happy note there is a lot of uncertainty about the future. Spock is far from himself, the Enterprise is gone and Kirk's career is in tatters. Kirk gets his ship and career back eventually but it takes a whole other film. I think it's quite a brave ending.

I see what you're saying and can see that point of view: the finale does make sure that Spock's return came at a price no question, I just think they vastly undersold David's death - bar Shatner's immediate reaction when the son gets stabbed and further proof the actor got a bad rap for hamminess; but something about Kirk's remark to Savak about the cost to his soul rang hollow, like the script both wanted to acknowledge that ost, but also the necessity of the movie in the first place in getting Spock back. I think I'd have liked to see a few more beats really underlining that cost and the loss, instead of ending on the happy note of reunion; something a bit more vague and unsure.

When all's said and done, Kirk's adult son died before he ever properly reconciled with him and I kinda felt a tonal conflict between a script really reaching for something more raw and profound in its characters … and the requirement for Fun Space Adventures. Heck IIRC David wasn't even referenced again 'til VI & Kirk's sudden ennui over making peace with the Klingons, an angst that informed that film's story.

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (1986)

Yes, I'm still doing these; though may take a break 'cos The Final Frontier is next, and hoooooo boy it's a stinker.

So there's me prattling on, admiring all this emotional maturity stitched through the first three Trek movies, of one's growing obsolescence and how maybe there's a sunset to boyish galavanting about ... then the fourth Star Trek movie was this supremely silly time-travel comedy about rescuing whales from the 20th century to save the future. "Double dumb áss" on me for forgetting just how far this leaned into a breezy, frivolous and no-strings adventuresome tone: and sure, anyone who held the Original Series to heart will have absolutely seen the genetic lineage in what remains Trek's most silly film (and intentionally silly 'cos Final Frontier still sits in the corner, waiting on me) ... but there was still a bit of tonal whiplash all the same in jumping from what had been a predominance towards interludes of introspection and emotionality to ... well, this. The one where Spock mind-melds with some whales & Chekov(!) asks a cop about where he'd find the Nooklear Wessels. The scenes with McCoy in the hospital my own standout, his irritated compassion a joy.

And maybe that was the point: after three films where despite their own various thrilling moments and set pieces, perhaps it was rationalised that there had been enough introspection and it was time for Voyage Home's grinning, goofy charm and absolute commitment to telling the daftest story in as engaging a fashion as possible. This should have been a disaster as the disparate parts didn't make sense, yet all those ingredients merged perfectly to yield Trek's most overtly fun outing. I couldn't conceive of any equivalently popular franchise in Hollywood swerving its tone this deliberately & to this extent - while also succeeding. Maybe, at a pinch, you could argue the MCU's dalliances into outright comedy - but as we've seen with Thor: Love & Thunder, the end-results have not always excelled in the balancing act. Voyage Home was an example of the perfectly baked dessert: sweet, delicious and without substance sure - but every morsel went down great.

I did have to take a moment though to reflect on what was an early-doors swing at environmentalism in popular media: it had that starry-eyed naivety of those Captain Planet adjacent days; that approach that appealed to our better nature to arrest quite obviously appalling behaviour towards our own home (and its co-tenants); yet I don't think our pop-culture has it in itself to render something this optimistic and confident of our better natures anymore. Attitudes have hardened since then, power and populism mutated to dogmatic antagonism to the extent it'd deny reality while the flames lick their heels. We can barely save ourselves at this point, let alone the whales.

I saw the TV Glow (2024)

This was a film whose inclusive intent could only go so far before it collided into my issues with its basic execution. Ultimately its tonal choice will come down to the personal taste of the viewer, but it didn't gel with me at all: going into this I was aware both of the creator's background & the broad discourse it had generated about the nature of its subtextual story but this was allergy turned up to 11; everything dominated by such monolithic symbolism and intent to create a detached sense of itself it lost all basic coherence - skirting into the realm of being nothing but a gussied up Student Film. That is, abstraction for its own sake and not half as clever as it thought it was (the "Pink Opaque" ... really?), surrounded by this ... utterly indistinct voice that even seeped into how all the actors delivered their lines; all with this borderline monotone diction, punctuated by pregnant pauses so elongated they could be carrying triplets. Pacing elasticated by needlessly prolonged shots featuring nothing of consequence.

This seemed like a movie with a dogged intent to generate "vibes", a concept increasingly suggesting no meaning except a way for vacant scripts to lean on presentation, contemplative aesthetics and mood in lieu of any kind of emotionality or structure. I didn't want melodrama and plates thrown across the kitchen - but it needed some emotional tactility here. Especially given the subject matter - going double while trans people become increasingly targeted for no sane reason except institutionalised malevolence. It was nearly saved by a last 20 minutes that almost jolted itself alive by way of some Cronenbergian oddity, but as patient as I can be I can't in good conscience manufacture interest in a (near adult) character vacantly waxing sorrow about their 10:30pm bedtime like it was this colossal existential conundrum. If even the film can't make it seem like an important pivot, then why should I care?

I applaud the voice here - just not the song.

Funny I used to love it; my introduction to Trek was Voyage Home and occasional re-runs of the Original Series, so for me the pulse of Trek was broadly silly nonsense, so when they started showing TNG and DS9 I was turned off by both shows' more serious and less playful tone. Whereas now I'll stick my feet in the ground to insist DS9 wasn't just the best Trek show - but also one of the best Sci-Fi TV shows in history.

Run Silent, Run Deep (1958)

An entertainingly throwaway 50s thriller elevated by threading the mania of Captain Ahab's iconic, quixotic quest for revenge into a clash of submarine captains' priorities: a friction that wasn't entirely dissimilar to what we would see decades later with Tony Scott's Crimson Tide; and while the younger film wrote its conflict from the precipice of nuclear armageddon, here the stakes were considerably lower and confined to one man's wounded pride potentially leading his new crew to calamity.

Good performances for the most part, although Gable and Lancaster had that slight aroma of wood that I find with many of those older Hollywood stars; they were often magnetic and commanding sure, but a constant stoicism that meant they projected a little emotional stuntedness when something a little less than rigged determination was asked of them; two similarly straight-backed planks didn't quite rattle my cage as much as the more obvious personality differences between Gene Hackman and Denzil Washington's own performances as stressed-out naval officers working on the ragged edge.

Good attention to detail here as well: there was a lack of sentiment or artificiality in the presentation of the submarine's inner workings and normal operation; this was a claustrophobic, sweaty and stressful work environment and Robert Wise made good use of what seemed like "real" inner locations, all shot with a pragmatic and unsentimental or melodramatic eye.

If you weren't gone on it I'd stay clear; dunno how my review read but it was one of those "intellectual" films where while I appreciated and respected what Weir was going for, it felt more like homework than something engaging or even entertaining.

Now, for something a little less high brow…

Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (1989)

Simultaneously as bad as its reputation suggested, yet also had enough brief bright flourishes to arrest it from being completely without value (oh, why hello Star Trek: Nemesis).  

I'll pitch with the positive aspects straight off 'cos the negatives are storied and a well trampled path. You simply cannot fault the ambition on show here: this was a film whose sweep could be seen from its location shoots, sets, set-pieces, and in the very concept itself - even if on paper it reads ludicrous with its quest for a literal god at "the centre of the galaxy". There was an attempted scale not seen since the Motion Picture and yet if the older movie leaned towards cosmic introspection here was Shatner reaching for something writ with a larger and grander brush. 

That said, while it must be acknowledged that the failures in this film were external, be it studio enforced budget cuts or strikes hobbling the production, it must also be underline that extenuating circumstances can only forgive so much. This was a mess top to bottom and a creature drenched with the hubris of a single individual given free reign on a major studio's production - though to Shatner's credit the resulting film wasn't unwatchable either. There will always be more to glean from a spectacular failure than forgettable mediocrity and say what you will about Shatner's insistence on making this through bruised ego his rival and friend shot the prior two films: he gave it his best go and this wasn't an incompetent movie, with even the odd nice touch here and there like a split diopter, or a push-in on an unattended bridge monitor. It all amounted to what must be the curate's egg of the entire run of Star Trek at the movies; fascinatingly awful instead of just plain awful (don't think I missed you either, Into Darkness; why are you and Nemesis eyeing up Wrath of Khan over there?)

And more than the other films, Shatner's story pushed the trio of Kirk, McCoy and Spock to the forefront as an unshakable group of platonic soulmates - for once I refuse to say the words that rhyme with "lound lamily" - culminating in riveting character moments such as McCoy reliving the crippling guilt over his last moments with his father; and the camping scenes were that aforementioned relationship crystallised into sentimental earnestness. Yet we got there through a culmination of really terrible action, flimsy plotting, absolutely abominably bad FX (the caveat being those budget cuts) and perhaps, most critically, bad acting from its supposed heroic lead. I had praised Shatner's relative restraint and unheralded depth in the prior films but with nobody to guide him or note his choices here, we got the actor at his hammiest, throwing out all the tics he would be lampooned and mimicked for. Nimoy and Kelley did their level best and took the material seriously, but Shatner was loose and too often his choices drifted the whole thing into Garth Merenghi territory.

Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country (1991)

A feature that unsurprisingly, given the return of Nicholas Meyer to the helm, ploughed the same thematic beats as Meyer's prior Trek film Wrath of Khan; yet here those themes felt a little more organically moulded into the story's own beats as the Enterprise crew faced down encroaching retirement on the cusp of a world already morphing beyond their grasp. The balance of it all was stronger, pivoting around a stronger central villain if I'm being honest: rather than some ghost from Kirk's past haunting him over teleconference, Christopher Plummer's General Chang was given the opportunity to gloat and cajole his rival warrior across the table as both men found themselves with no war left to fight, their impulses to become permanently unquenched.

It was a turn no less theatrical than Richardo Montalbán's own (minus the ludicrous open chested costume) but Plummer nosed ahead by dint of sheer snarling relish, constantly quoting Shakespeare while existing as this gleeful reflection of Kirk's internalised frustration with what should present as an ostensibly good event: peace in the galaxy. Yet as he would remark, all Kirk had left was his prejudice and ego, the pain he insisted in Final Frontier he "needed" to function; and while his final speech during the finale at the Peace Conference was more than a little corny, by then it had an authentic earnestness in being able to round off Kirk's story and his letting go of grudges as others clung to theirs. 

But hey, as it was before with Wrath of Khan if that wasn't your brew then the actual thrills were more than sufficient to entertain. Here was a solid thriller about the thawing relationship between two great powers and enemies, of lingering malcontent keen to preserve the dying status quo & the conspiracies spun to make it happen; the parallels with the end of the Cold War couldn't have been more blunt, the Berlin Wall falling only 2 years prior to this film's release. If Meyer's '82 film was a submarine thriller set in space, this was a political conspiracy thriller in space. And in their final outing all of the crew got moments to shine: sure the beating heart of the thing was led by Kirk & Spock's contrasting paths into obsolescence but the plot was shouldered by an ensemble's problem solving. And as a once-off character among the crew, I enjoyed Kim Cattrall's Vulcan performance: history has shown it can be a surprisingly difficult task to play an emotionally dead space-elf, but Cattrall deftly nailed an appealing sense of repressed smugness. Mind you in his last "true" outing (ignoring the reboots) Nimoy reminded why he will remain king. Perhaps born from the decades spent embodying the character (perhaps to his career's detriment) but nobody since then has played a Vulcan with that same dry magnetism.

So that's that. Unbeknownst to the production of this film I think this was Trek's zenith as a movie series, and there are probably all sorts of reasons why without getting into the weeds; no question in my mind though, the series from here would only become louder and stupider - even as early as the TNG movies and First Contact we saw the franchise's conversion into calorie-free action, while JJ Abrams 2009 reboot amplified that into a near bewildering level of dissonance between the original material and his obvious audition to make Star Wars as braindead as possible. It's heartening to see the franchise stay strong on TV but that "blockbuster" mentality for loud action over human drama has leaked over; Strange New Worlds has married that quality with episodic Science Problem of the Week more successfully than not, but Discovery has embraced overblown superficiality with the worst impulses of melodrama and "feelings" led characterisation

The Fall (2006)

That "stony faced priest" Match Cut was so deliriously wonderful I couldn't help watch it a bunch of times. In many respects it incapsulated the entire venture really: deeply imaginative while being almost brazenly ostentatious.

A sumptuous feast of vivid imagery and one that saturated the viewer with fantastical and richly colourful visions, all formed from glorious production design & the wonders within our own world; no CGI invention was necessary here, not when 20 (twenty!) countries served as locations for the most astonishing visual tapestry a relatively modern movie could spin for itself. This was one beautiful locale after another, all serving as the visualisation for a primal execution of the whole "story within a story" trope; the fantastical sections were the life given to a freewheeling ad-hoc epic regaled by Lee Pace's Roy as a young girl Alexandria imagined his addled stream of consciousness. Flights of fancy whose aesthetic germinated from faces or objects of both curiosity or fear in Alexandria's world, both dimensions eventually overlapping as the emotional heart of the story began to fracture and shake; a stop-motion sequence near the end the dark culmination of reality intruding on the fantasy. On release this film was somewhat derided for having too much style and not enough substance ... yet to perhaps that style was too overpowering if people missed the heart of the thing.

For all its obvious splendour this wasn't something entirely surface level: rather, Roy's grandiose yarn was the bombastic patina for a heartbreaking human core as the framing story remained mundane as Roy lay in his bed riven by depression; all the while egged-on to workshop his story with the kind of friendly, curious bossiness only a young child could possess. And here was another glory: the little girl Alexandria was played by Catinca Untaru in her one and only acting role, a performance that shot itself into the top bracket of best turns by a child actor.

At the best of times child actors can make or break a movie, but using what I understand to have been semi-improvised set ups, Tarsem coaxed out a truly authentic, charming performance from someone I wasn't entirely convinced even knew what was going on - but seemed herself charmed by Pace's garrulous storytelling at the same time. However, what might have been saccharine had the good sense to let its scenes in "reality" maintain a well of sadness; a pitch black well at that, given Roy & Alexandria's friendship started from the former's manipulation of the latter to get him morphine so he could overdose. There were no easy answers or glib moments of clarity here, just a sweet story of one's mental barriers broken down by a child's natural lack of filters or learned decorum. 

All that said: if anyone read the above and were moved to give The Fall a watch? Good luck with that. To the positive, I'm reading that only in the last couple of months the rights to this reverted back to Tarsem himself - and he's now pursuing a 4K release (though apparently Criterion already declined a transfer. Madness. Michael Bay gets in but this doesn't??). So until that release, this is a film that doesn't exist digitally outside the High Seas - while US Amazon listed some new blu-ray copies at $150(!!). You can definitely chalk this one up as not just a Hidden Gem, but a borderline Non-Existent one.