dharmendrasingh

Here's a 'must-see' film, which after a long-awaited but anticlimactic screening I would rebrand as 'see if you must'. The one awe-inspiring fact about Werner Herzog's much-admired 'Aguirre, Wrath of God' (1972) is that it got made at all.

As messianic as the maker himself, the film charts an ill-fated 16th Century Spanish Crown expedition to Peru and the Amazon in search of the fabled gold of El Dorado.

Tranquil wide shots belie the true nature of the place. The heat stifles, the raging river demoralises, the paucity of food consumes. The nobility are quickly overpowered by the unforgiving environment.

Capitalising on the band's resignation from their quest, a rebel soldier, Don Lope de Aguirre (Klaus Kinski), inspires a mutiny and assumes leadership. He pushes the men to their limits, forcing them to go further, faster. Meanwhile the 'Indian' slaves free themselves of servitude and periodically resurface to arrow their former captors to death.

The expedition doesn't enervate Aguirre as it does the others. It enlivens him. As his sanity declines, he declares that he will marry his daughter before conquering other places and then overthrowing the monarchy.

Kinski was one of those die-for-your-art actors. Steely-blue eyes set among an intense, rough face gave him the look of a noble hobo. He might well have come closer to the crazed characters he played than any other international star. Herzog often used him, though theirs was love-hate relationship, and their fights are the stuff of legend.

There are many memorable moments in 'Aguirre'; indeed I best remember it as a series of quite dazzling set pieces. Take the raft scene where a horse loses control and dives into the river. Or the superbly edited shot of a head being lobbed clean off. Or the final scene, featuring an army of common squirrel monkeys.

The opening long shot remains the most breathtaking: the entire crew slowly snake their way down an imposing mountain; a visceral metaphor reflecting their insignificance – a sequence that would only be done with CGI today.

Throughout, the film is visually arresting and remarkably static, except for occasional paroxysms. It's an arduous watch and I think overrated, but you may genuinely not see anything quite like it – except for other Werner Herzog films.

F. Scott Fitzgerald would have loved this film. Baz Luhrmann stays true to the spirit of the book whilst preserving his directorial integrity. In some ways it's a perfect marriage. Both are men of style and lyricism, of romance and passion.

I read the book only a few days before my screening – the first time I have ever done so. I was expecting a tawdry adaptation but Luhrmann has actually made the best film of his career. I needed his imagination to fill the blanks in mine.

I quickly realised, as I followed every single detail with childlike awe, that this adaptation is piously faithful to the book. Perhaps it's better described as a literal translation. Words and precise sensory details – not just scenes – are lifted from page and pasted to screen, as when Nick Carraway first sees Daisy in her East Egg mansion. The 'coloured' references are appropriately kept in, and the party scenes are faultless.

The players are sensational. Carey Mulligan simply IS Daisy. Waiflike, elegant, beautiful, innocent – which man wouldn't devote his life to her? Amitabh Bachchan does much to bring Bollywood closer to Hollywood with his brief but key turn as shady 'businessman', Meyer Wolfshiem (a bold but brilliant casting decision).

Joel Edgerton also perfectly embodies his role as the macho philanderer Tom Buchanan. He's never been better really. Tobey Maguire is likewise excellent as Nick Carraway, the narrator from whose perspective the story is told. To be truthful it's a thankless role because he has only to look awestruck every time he sees Gatsby. Fortunately, Maguire and DiCaprio are real life friends, so the awe does not have to be feigned.

Highest praise is reserved for DiCaprio, one of the few great actors yet to receive an Oscar. His take on Gatsby wouldn't have been out of place in the time of Bogart, Cagney and Lancaster. Indeed his entrance is as memorable as the quick pan upwards to Bogie's face in Casablanca, or Welles's chair spin in Citizen Kane. When reading the book I struggled to see who could play Gatsby. Two seconds of DiCaprio's movements made it obvious.

Some question if the book is indeed a classic. Whatever the merits of the book (I think there are many) I believe the story of a boy who dreams of greatness, then pursues it to validate the love of a woman, only to die vainly, pitifully, should resonate with anyone with a heart.

Lana Del Ray's angelic vocals help to evoke pathos, particularly her moving track whose lyrics 'Will you still love me when I'm no longer yours' encapsulate the story beautifully. On the other hand, Jay Z's music, presumably only used because he's oddly an Executive Producer, is an awkward juxtaposition, but luckily it is too brief to be a major distraction.

In some places there is a bluntness to the storytelling which undermines the power of the book. The beginning feels very rushed as the camera darts from one shot to the next. But these are mere peccadilloes in what is otherwise a glorious film, which masterfully captures the wild hedonism of that enviable era.

What a shame, though how predictable, that the multiplexes chose not to show Mira Nair's brave and provocative political thriller about the intricacies of fighting extremist Islam.

Nair uses Mohsin Hamid's fictional novel to explore very real Western attitudes towards the East in the ongoing 'war on terror'. She has directed a film of huge cultural, political and moral significance at a critical juncture between the Muslim and non-Muslim world.

Rising star Riz Ahmed (Four Lions) gives a memorable lead performance as Changez, a Pakistani immigrant in New York, who has an identity crisis in the wake of 9/11. He returns to live in Lahore when an MIT professor has been captured and held ransom there by terrorists, who use him as leverage to make demands of the US.

Posing as a journalist, Secret Service Agent Bobby Lincoln (Liev Schreiber) visits Lahore to interview Changez, who has developed a reputation for being anti-American. The US authorities believe that Changez, if not a terrorist, at least knows something about the kidnapping. They exert pressure on him by harassing his family, a move which only deepens his hatred.

During their interview, Changez asks Bobby to make a judgement about him only after hearing his entire story, and Changez's reminiscence allows for the film to unfurl as a flashback of epic proportions.

Raised in a secular, literate Muslim household in Pakistan, Changez finds it easy to break the covenants of his religion. He consumes alcohol, eats pork and sleeps with non-Muslims, everything Islam forbids. He wins a scholarship to study at Princeton in the late 90s, where he claims never to have scored a B.

There he is headhunted to work for a prestigious valuation firm where he ensures a rapid promotion by impressing his boss (Kiefer Sutherland). On the day of his promotion the towers come down. He tells Bobby that instead of feeling sadness, he felt awe. 'David had struck Goliath'.

Ahmed gave his most famous performance in Lions, but this is his greatest. As an 'Asian' (I abhor the term but include it for your convenience) man myself, I have long had to suffer stereotypical performances by brown-skinned actors, who are used by ignorant directors to add colour and Schadenfreude to their ignorant stories. Ahmed transcends all that. This time we're analysing the reactions of White actors.

Changez's hatred of America germinates slowly, against his will, as his life slowly falls apart. Colleagues turn on him. The bond he had with his widowed girlfriend Erica (Kate Hudson) withers. Ordinary citizens view him as the enemy. His choice to move back to Pakistan is made for him.

Nair purposely shows much of Changez's life back home, as one of her clear aims is to challenge some key stereotypes. Changez's father (Om Puri) is a distinguished poet, not a farmer or rickshaw puller. The family is quite well off, not destitute. And the country is generally shown to be colourful, vibrant and civilised, instead of corrupt, backward and dangerous, as we normally see.

The horror of the recent Woolwich (London) terrorist attack may do something to restrict the impact of this excellent film. Paradoxically, the attack serves to reinforce the arguments of the film. It makes several points, makes them powerfully and forces you to in future question what you are told.