catfish

A very brave film, this one. Can't imagine that it took much at the box office, but it's good to see an uncompromising vision up on the screen from time to time. Not since Greenaway's "The Cook, the Thief, his Wife and her Lover" has something so pure made it past the distribution police. That this should be an American production is only more laudable.

Stunning to look at and to listen too (Goldenthal's score is astinishing), it is above all a very theatrical rendering which utilises the creative and imaging capabilities of modern "Hollywood" cinema to realise the full emotive power of this early Shakespeare play. We can easily forget just how visceral and corporeal some of Shakespeare's work was and this film amply serves to remind us.

Titus always was a study in brutality and the corruption of power. Here, Traynor immerses us in the full excesses of human degredation. It's not easy to watch at at times, especially the rape of Lavinia, but it is sobering. The images are shocking and repulsive, but rightly so.

This is not a film for gore or porn fans, as some reviewers have suggested. It is an intelligent, hugely creative and uncompromising vision of a neglected play which has some very uncomfortable things to say to us about our nature, and especially about male violence and power.

Yes, it has faults. It is dominated by its production design to the extent that that performances sometimes become almost irrelevant. The confusion of period detail often becomes just that; and Hopkins looks decidedly uncomfortable at times. However, these problems are minor in comparison to the film's many strengths.

What I love most about this film is its loving satire on 50s America. Whereas most 50s-set films are content with recreating the "look" of the decade, Parents' gets under the skin and satirises the attitudes - most wonderfully when Randy Quaid's boss at Toxico talks about "plastic". In fact, the whole idea of being proud that your Dad is helping make defoliants is just gorgeously 50's America (sorry, Americans, but you've gotta face facts).

There are many other things to admire in this film: the performances (has Quaid been better?), the pacing (it's so short!), and the wallpaper.

This has to be one of the oddest and finest horror-comedies ever to squirm from the Hollywood machine.

Sad, in a way. Here's the greatest comedian of the silent era (sorry, Chaplin fans, but you're just wrong, okay?) showing that he can still cut it, never mind how old he might be.

Film appears to be an advert for Canada (probably is), but is still a joy. A endless series of inspired sight-gags as Buster sails calmly through the wilderness on a railroad buggy. The dexterity, poise and, above all, quiet dignity of the man shine through.

Pity the world forgot about him for so long.