Letterboxd — Your life in film

Whedon casts a good Hulk, and shoots better, more coherent big-budget action than Michael Bay. I am less certain as to how Cobie Smulders snuck on the set.

Classic cars, snappy one-liners, a non-sensical plot featuring a slightly camp über-villain, the occasional poorly-realised special effect, and deliberately clumsy handling of computer-related material. It’s all classic Bond.

British director Sam Mendes returns the focus to Britain and delivers on the promise of Casino Royale, while not quite connecting the dots from Quantum of Solace. Favourite hair goes to Ben Whishaw by a landslide over Javier Bardem, and in matters of craft, the incomparable Roger Deakins moves his lens with ease from the neon heights of Shanghai to the quiet moors of Scotland, no doubt straightening his cuff matter-of-factly after each take.

An austere thriller that occasionally recalls Roger Donaldson’s No Way Out, in impeccably authentic brown and biege. Affleck helms admirably, but can’t avoid favouring his own character’s sentimental backstory over those of the foreign diplomats central to his plot. Draws some amusing parallels between the CIA and Hollywood (Arkin and Goodman are superb representing the latter), two hegemonies in the business of playing make believe.

“The trick, William Potter, is not minding that it sucks.” — Wilson Miner

I don’t care what you say about his scrupulously constructed dioramas and his detached realities and his whimsy without emotion and his objectification of young love. Sometimes a charming, harebrained fairytale strikes just the right note, and this one was made all the better by Bruce Willis and Ed Norton playing against type as New Penzance police captain and scout master, respectively. Anderson’s best live-action film since Rushmore. Great titles too.

So it turns out Joss Whedon makes his best films when he’s directing second unit. The Cabin in the Woods, which he co-wrote with Cloverfield scribe Drew Goddard (also making his directorial debut), is a crowd-pleasing re-invention of the horror genre in a way that perhaps only Whedon could have imagined. Explaining a shred of the plot would ruin the surprise: simply fill a room with like-minded souls and press play (while you don’t strictly need to be a fan of the genre, any student of horror will be well rewarded along the way). Excessive, hilarious and cleverly original.

Kathryn Bigelow’s fictionalised account of the CIA’s decade-long hunt for America’s most-wanted aggressor trades factual accuracy for cinematic play-by-plays, but does so with minimal posturing and an even-handed approach to depictions of the US government’s less-appetising foreign policies.

The second act lags, and the plaudits for Jessica Chastain’s showy heroine might be unfounded, but as the final thirty minutes unfolds — a gripping tour de force without fanfare or exploitation — these blemishes soon fade. It’s a flawless, respectful conclusion; Bin Laden’s slain figure depicted only as a blurred background or fleeting digital camera preview.