Here’s some capsule reviews for films that used to be available on Prime Video NZ.
12 Angry Men (1957)
These men sure are angry, and with good reason, as you’ll learn in this single-location courthouse thriller about a jury deliberating the case of an impoverished teen who stabbed his abusive father to death. Writer Reginald Rose was known for tackling sensitive issues, doing so here through the twelve jury members’ clashing opinions. Director Sidney Lumet was one of the best to ever do it, and his direction is assuredly crisp.
Bicycle Thieves (1948)
The shadow of WWII hangs over this 1948 neorealist classic, about a man who loses his only source of income (the bike of the title), and wanders Rome in search of it with his son at his side. Vittorio De Sica’s films portrayed the struggles of the working class with enough empathy to move the most hardened of viewers; this one has been showered with accolades in the 70 years since its release.
Bottoms (2023)
The director of Shiva Baby, Emma Seligman, and her muse Rachel Sennott, take an unexpected turn into broad comedy in this queer high school spoof. Clearly tailored to suit Sennott’s comic persona (and co-written by her), the story subverts genre tropes, with genuinely edgy moments assuaged by the actors’ easy charm.
The Crying Game (1992)
One plot detail in particular was extremely hyped at the time of this film’s release, and whether or not it should have been, or whether that detail is treated responsibly, isn’t really for me to say. This is still a moving, thrilling film about IRA operatives (everyone forgets that part), with tender performances from Stephen Rea and Jaye Davidson (heartbreaking here, he retired from acting after just two movies—the second was Stargate).
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)
A moral dilemma wrapped in a sci-fi concept lurking under many pillowy layers of Michel Gondry whimsy and Charlie Kaufman cynicism, Eternal Sunshine is also wildly romantic, and heartbreaking. It was the second time the writer and director had collaborated, and marks a high point for both, bittersweet but light as air, amusing in the moment with an aftertaste of melancholy.
Everything Everywhere All At Once (2022)
The 2023 Oscar-winner for Best Picture succeeds not because of its multiverse shenanigans (although they do help), but by foregrounding the familial drama powering its story. Michelle Yeoh tears into her lead role with obvious zeal, with Ke Huy Quan and Stephanie Hsu delivering similarly physical and emotive performances. Rarely have scenes this silly seemed so heartfelt or profound.
Fargo (1996)
A highpoint in the Coen Brothers astoundingly consistent career, Fargo treads the finest of lines between comedy and tragedy, contrasting the “Minnesota nice’”of the directors’ birthplace with the unpleasant actions of some career criminals. Steve Buscemi got his chance to cut loose in a Coen pic (after supporting in several), and makes a real meal of it, while Frances McDormand brings plenty of nuance to her role as the movie’s moral centre.
Ghostbusters (1984)
Watching this with adult eyes, and learning about how it was made, you start to see what a one-in-a-million shot this was, and why it’s never been replicated. Paring Dan Akroyd’s cosmically bonkers script down to its essentials, making it a blue collar, guys-at-work story, and letting Bill Murray off the chain to improvise, it all somehow coalesced into an all-time classic, hilarious, scary and exciting.
Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966)
An iconic Ennio Morricone score, an iconic opening scene (and closing scene), an iconic cast, and so on. This class was the peak of the Spaghetti Western, and a high point in Sergio Leone’s storied career (not to mention Clint Eastwood’s, Lee Van Cleef’s, and Eli Wallach’s). Gold hunts, desert vistas, and Mexican standoffs were never the same after this.
Halloween (1978)
John Carpenter’s entire career is made up of no-nonsense, workmanlike horror movies—and some of them, like this one, are among the best ever made. It single handedly birthed the slasher genre, and is among the director’s most artful, full of elegant tracking shots that amp up the terror and make the suburbs feel scary. It’s a film that’s nasty while being surprisingly bloodless, and thanks to Jamie Lee Curtis, full of heart.
Haywire (2011)
Sure the plot is nigh incomprehensible, but that’s beside the point when you have Gina Carano laying waste to every famous dude in her path. Channing Tatum, Michael Fassbender and Ewan MacGregor queue up to get their asses kicked, under the direction of Steven Soderbergh, who wisely understands that the real drawcard here are those wonderful fights.
Heat (1995)
Michael Mann has made a lot of great flicks, but this might just be his Mann-sterpiece. An L.A. noir pitting two of our finest actors against each other (De Niro as the suave criminal, Pacino as the hard bitten cop), and letting them go large—the latter in particular delivers some extremely meme-able mega-acting. As you’d expect from the director, it’s shot beautifully, moves at a clip, and resolves as a kind of violent bromance.
Inglourious Basterds (2009)
Everyone has their different favourite Tarantino flick, and this is still mine, with its series of vignettes that slowly turn up the heat and simmer all the way to an explosively cathartic ending. A movie about war movies that manages to honour the real thing, it crosses over into the sublime when you realise how audacious QT is willing to get, leaving you to grapple with the moral repercussions later.
Jaws (1975)
I will always slightly resent this movie for making me terrified of the ocean, but such is the potency of Spielberg’s filmmaking. It’s a classic not just for the painstaking buildup, or white knuckle payoff, but the patient character work between Schneider, Dreyfuss, and Shaw, fully embodying their characters while improving and riffing in that seventies kind of way. This movie helped birth the blockbuster, and it’s still easy to see why.
Jurassic Park (1993)
Spielberg’s work ethic is such that he delivered the ultimate monster movie the same year as Schindler’s List. A perfect vehicle for his patented reaction shots (people in awe, looking upwards), it’s a terrifically entertaining ride, a perfect popcorn movie with effects that still look incredible. Plus you get shirtless Goldblum, Neil and Dern being cuties, and that one kid gets electrocuted. Five stars.
The Lobster (2015)
It’s been great to see Colin Farrell move away from Hollywood hunk archetypes and broaden his range, with his role here as a withdrawn, moustached man an early example. Yorgos Lanthimos transferred his deadpan style to English with hilarious results, Farrell’s Irish lilt proving a good match for the director’s dialogue. Oh by the way, this movie is about people being transformed into animals if they stay single past a certain age. Yup.
Mad Max Fury Road (2015)
George Miller came up with the original kernel for Fury Road in 1987, and didn’t wind up shooting till 2012, arriving in cinemas three years later. Rumours ran rife that the production was troubled, and yet the movie is a total triumph; a blast of punk energy and the best action film of the last decade.
The Manchurian Candidate (1962)
If you somehow don’t know what this movie is about, keep it that way: chances are you won’t look at Frank Sinatra or Angela Lansbury the same way again. A typically rock-solid thriller from legendary director John Frankenheimer, it’s surprising until the end, ruthless and somewhat revolutionary. Laurence Harvey and Janet Leigh also deliver great performances, but the real star is the script, which remains unsettling.
Moonlight (2016)
Barry Jenkins seriously levelled up with his second feature, which follows its lead character Chiron at three stages of his life, inhabiting three different personas. Exquisitely photographed and infused with soul, it won Best Picture at the Oscars and propelled its director into the upper echelon, along with supporting player Mahershala Ali. Delicate and devastating, Moonlight deserves its place as one of the most acclaimed films of the last ten years.
Nope (2022)
Controversial take maybe, but I think this is Jordan Peele’s best movie. A lot of people seemed to get hung up on what-it-all-means, but set that aside and you still have a super enjoyable movie about a [REDACTED], Peele drawing on Spielberg and employing exquisite IMAX photography with thrilling (and sometimes very horrific) results. Kaluuya and Palmer are powerhouses, anchoring the film’s emotional stakes as their director takes us on an armrest-gripping ride.
Ocean’s Eleven (2001)
The definition of an easy watch, Soderbergh’s throwback heist flick is full of Hollywood charm and handsome hunks being cool, but it’s the intelligence of his storytelling (aided by impeccable editing), that make this a still-compelling experience, engaging your brain as well as your eyeballs. Great score by David Holmes too.
Patriot Games (1992)
Australian director Phillip Noyce helmed multiple big screen Jack Ryan adventures: this one and Clear and Present Danger, both starring Harrison Ford (the character has also been played by Alec Baldwin and Ben Affleck, and on the small screen, John Krazinski). There’s strong dad energy to be found here, no doubt, but Noyce handles the suspense sequences with aplomb, and unleashes Sean Bean in a villainous role.
The Player (1992)
Robert Altman’s Hollywood satire to end them all indulges his love of ensembles and cross-talk, threads through about a million celebrity cameos, and crucially houses an awful moral conundrum. Tim Robbins is so slimy he practically leaves a trail as studio executive Griffin Mill, increasingly in over his head in multiple ways. The denouement still stings, a perfect pitch-black ending to Altman’s scathing tale.
The Princess Bride (1987)
Impossible to judge objectively by those of us who grew up with it, this feels like it aged particularly well (even whatever the heck Billy Crystal and Carol Kane are up to). A fantasy aimed at every gender, it plays like an ongoing series of classic sequences and phrases, some of which you’re probably thinking of right now. Bonus points for Mel Smith, and Peter Falk and Fred Savage being impossibly endearing.
Runaway Train (1986)
A two-fisted brawler directed by the guy who wrote Andrei Rublev with Andrei Tarkovsky, and with a story credit from Akira Kurosawa, no less. Eric Roberts and Jon Voight play cons who bust out of prison and hop a train, absolutely decimating the scenery with their borderline-unhinged performances. A great example of the kind of film Hollywood doesn’t make anymore; tough and compelling.
Secretary (2002)
Hard to think of better casting than Maggie Gyllenhall and James Spader in a burgeoning sub/dom relationship, in a 2002 movie that was gently progressive but never too serious about it. Director Steven Shainburg keeps things light and comedic, and allows his two leads to be very charming. There are a few plot-convenient obstacles for them to overcome, but not too many, the focus more on their unconventional chemistry.
Skyfall (2012)
Quite possibly the best of Daniel Craig’s run of Bond films, Sam Mendes’ first entry has the British superagent reemerging from hiding and reckoning with advancing age and alcohol issues, while taking on another global threat. It feels as whopping as its stakes, loaded with eye popping scenery, the usual globetrotting, and a welcome focus on Dame Judy Dench as Bond’s boss M.
The Witch (2015)
Director Robert Eggers and actress Anya Taylor-Joy both made their big screen debuts in this black and white gothic tale, which helped align A24 with a certain type of arthouse horror. Set in 1600s New England, it’s a movie that slowly envelops the viewer in suffocating dread, before delivering a finale of supernatural thrills.
