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englishgeek82-blog · 5 years

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Review: Bohemian Rhapsody

Bohemian Rhapsody – Review

Perhaps I should preface this review by admitting that I am a huge Queen nerd. Like, huge. For what reason, I don’t know – but since I really discovered their ‘Greatest Hits’ album in Munich one weekend in the mid 90s, I have joyfully immersed myself in their work and geeked out on the band’s utter pomposity and incredible musicianship. I mean, INCREDIBLE musicianship. It’s gotten to the point where I found the trailer for this film that showed the development of ‘We Will Rock You’ in the studio, my initial concern was that the timeline was all wrong, because Freddie didn’t have a mustache when they recorded that song. Yes, I’m that guy. And I’d apologise for it, but I can’t help it and I’m not that sorry either. Still, I figured that the soundtrack was bulletproof, and I’d heard all sorts of good things about Rami Malek’s performance, and so was keen to check out the film to see what it was like.

Throughout the film I was trying to figure out what the experience reminded me of. It’s sprawling, it’s stylistically all over the place, it takes massive liberties with the conventions of its genre, or it would if it could work out what genre it was trying to be, there are some emotional moments that land with real punch, some that land with a circus-esque plonk, but with a nod and a wink and some self-knowing camp, it ends strong and throughout it all there are some phenomenal performances, and the whole thing is held together by the eclectic genius and irrepressible charisma of the central figure. That’s when I realised…it’s like listening to a Queen album. Queen’s output, especially their best work in the 70s is absolutely ludicrous in places, but they just all seem to be in on the joke and it’s so wonderfully bonkers that it’s hard not to love it. The sheer scope and insanity of their early songs (and they are insane – what other band would put the gentle beauty of ‘Doin’ Alright’ alongside the utter pomposity of ‘Great King Rat’ next together on an album, or move from a thrash-metal-harpsichord-opera in ‘The March of the Black Queen’ to the bouncy throwaway charm of ‘Killer Queen’ in the space of a few months?) is the stuff that made them such a divisive band in their early days. Those who hated them did so with a real passion, and those who loved them fell for them completely. I imagine the audience for this film will feel much the same; I don’t think it’s a film that people will watch and feel indifferent towards.

What’s right with it? For starters, the cast is outstanding. Much has rightly been made of Rami Malek’s performance as Mercury, although as a long-time super nerd I feel that for all its brilliance, it’s still not as nuanced as the man himself was. There are few people who can claim the adjective ‘unique’ but Mercury was one of them. A true one-off with an astonishing ability to tame a crowd, a fantastically unpredictable mastery of songwriting and a voice that almost defies belief, Freddie Mercury was private and public, shy and insanely extroverted and outrageous, arrogant and insecure all in one go. So, playing him in film was always going to be a near-impossible task, but Malek does an excellent job with the arc he is given. Just like in the band’s musical history though, Malek needs the others around him to bring out the best he’s got. The other three members of Queen are genuinely fantastic and, just like in the band itself, their value to the whole should not be underestimated. The music, of course, is phenomenal. Queen were capable of some real dirge on their day (and the disco catastrophe of ‘Hot Space’ is conveniently overlooked here) but when they got it right, as they frequently did, it was so, so right. The energy of the live shows is captured well here, and despite some fairly clunky ‘lightbulb’ moments (John Deacon sitting down and happening upon the bassline to ‘Another One Bites the Dust’, or Mike Myers’ fairly naff ‘Wayne’s World’ shout) you do get a sense of what made the band so close and some of the trials of starting out with such a flamboyant and unusual style. Finally, the recreation of Live Aid is stunning in its accuracy and provides a hugely enjoyable ending to the film. Having said that, if you want to watch 25 minutes of Queen at Live Aid, I think this is the better version. However, it’s possible and indeed likely that because the end is so very good, people might walk away feeling like they’ve seen a better film than they actually have.

So, what’s wrong with it? Well, firstly the timeline of the band is absolutely dismantled for narrative convenience, which is fine for a feature film I suppose, but not terribly satisfying. Trying to condense a 20 year career into two hours is never going to be easy, but perhaps that’s a sign that they shouldn’t have done it. I think there are various chapters in Queen’s history that would have made for a fascinating deep dive, but that’s just me. So, much like any interview with the band themselves, we get lots of things covered, but not in an awful lot of depth. Queen were always masters of dodging and ducking around questions they didn’t like, and the surviving members have done a good job of presenting the story they want instead of (perhaps) the story that actually happened. There’s no real issue with saying that ‘We Will Rock You’ came out later than it did, or that they played in Detroit when actually they were in Denver, but the arc does hit some problems when it comes to setting up the film’s final act, which is built around Live Aid and Mercury’s AIDS diagnosis. The widely accepted story has always been that Mercury discovered he had AIDS sometime in 1987, and may have known he was HIV positive for some time before that, perhaps even contracting the disease as early as 1982, according to the excellent ‘Somebody To Love’ by Matt Richards which is as fascinating a documentary on the history of AIDS as it is a biography of Mercury. In any case, that timeline is bastardised for maximum emotional manipulation here, and that doesn’t sit well with me. Freddie’s hedonistic side has been severely diluted (although in fairness to the film-makers, I don’t think there’s a way to even get close to the sheer excess he put himself through without making the film unreleasable) but perhaps most glaring of all is the ‘one last gig’ aspect of the Live Aid story. In the film, the band have broken up, not spoken for months and not played together for years. Racked by the excesses of the rock and roll lifestyle, the band sluggishly restart their engines in rehearsals for Live Aid which is suddenly on their radar and needs to be practised to perfection. They cannot quite recapture their magic, and it’s only through the revelation that their iconic lead singer is battling the sands of time that they pull together to steal the show.

In truth, the band had no idea of Freddie’s illness until at least 1989, and Queen played Live Aid on July 13th, 1985 – just two months after concluding a 48-date world tour to support their latest album. Perhaps some of the juice had gone from the band’s inner dynamo, and there’s no doubting that ‘The Works’ is a fairly flat sounding album, and there’s also no doubt that Live Aid did a lot of good in repairing the band’s image after they played in apartheid-era South Africa during a musician’s boycott, but the idea that it was ‘years’ since they’d played together is just done for a kind of redemption narrative that didn’t exist. This takes the idea that whether this is the real life or just fantasy, nothing really matters, to an extreme I don’t care for. So for all its brilliance, that particular aspect will leave a bitter taste in the fans’ mouths, I suspect.

Mind you, all of this is a better narrative structure than Brian May’s original vision for the film which (according to original star Sasha Baron Cohen) detailed the band ‘going from strength to strength’ after Mercury’s untimely passing. Queen’s music may have sold a lot more since then, and May, Taylor and Deacon are almost certainly a lot wealthier, but the band that fans like me fell so heartily in love with died in November of 1991. Now we’re left with memories, and there are more fulfilling ones you can discover beyond the boundaries of this film, if you want them. If not though, this film is a perfectly decent way to spend a couple of hours. In 1978, Queen sang ‘we’ll breakfast at Tiffany’s/we’ll sing to you in Japanese/we’re only here to entertain you’ – and this film does a pretty solid job of making good on that promise.

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englishgeek82-blog · 5 years

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Review: Free Solo

If you’ve ever seen El Capitan in Yosemite, you probably don’t need me to tell you that it’s an awe-inspiring, majestic work of nature. Rising 3,000 feet into the sky, it was bestowed with its famous name after the Mariposa Battalion first saw it in 1861 and translated the Native American name for the rock which roughly meant ‘The Chief’. I’ve visited Yosemite twice in my life, and each time the rugged and unmoving gigantism of El Capitan has absolutely transfixed me. After sunset, there are tiny pinpricks of light visible up the face of the monolith; climbers resting for the night before they continue their ascent. El Capitan is a favourite spot for climbers looking for a challenge. The first climb took Warren Harding and his team 47 days, and even to this day the average climber in fairly decent shape can expect an ascent to take 4-5 days of climbing.

But Alex Honnold is not the average climber.

‘Free Solo’ tells the story of Honnold’s attempt to scale El Capitan with absolutely no protective gear whatsoever. As an average person who struggles to climb stairs on some days, the very idea of climbing something as intimidating as El Capitan is beyond my understanding of human capability. Honnold is introduced as the poster-boy, literally, for the sport of free-soloing; there he is standing on Half-Dome on the cover of National Geographic, here he is hanging from an impossible angle out halfway up a mountain in Tunisia. He holds records, climbs quickly, is an experienced (and obsessive) climber who has been putting himself in danger for the best part of his entire life, and even he admits that this particular ascent may be beyond him. And therein, of course, lies the heart of the film. Honnold spends the film preparing for a climb that might be so difficult, even he cannot manage it. And, of course, the task before him is not a traditional one. Once he begins, there are really only two options for him – succeed or die. This underlying jeopardy ensures that the preparations for the final climb are tinged with real emotion and tension.

Honnold is an unusual character, and not the traditional subject for a Hollywood movie. In some ways he is a textbook hero – handsome, in unbelievable physical shape, quiet, thoughtful, and yet full of action and adventure. He speaks at schools, gives Ted Talks, and has founded a charity that helps children in Africa. On the flip side of this though, he is not an emotive or dramatic man. He lives in his van, despite not really liking that lifestyle. He has friends in the climbing community but he knows full well they might die at any point, and several of his friends have over time. His parents’ relationship was not an easy one by all accounts, and there is real pathos in watching him admitting that he had to learn how to hug people, wondering what to do as he buys his first house with his partner, and indeed struggling throughout the film to connect to his girlfriend on an emotional level. The film does not pull back from this at all, and I was left wondering whether or not to feel sympathetic towards this young woman who is torn between supporting the man he loves as he follows the thing he loves most, and making her peace with the fact that she is not what he loves most. Honnold’s mother sums this up well when she talks about her own fears watching her son put himself in situations that will kill him if one slip is made. “I think when he's free soloing is when he feels the most alive, the most everything. How could you even think about taking that away from somebody?” In the midst of all this though, Honnold seems relatively untroubled by the prospect of death. It is, of course, this detachment and coolness that makes Honnold the perfect candidate for being a superb climber. He goes to a doctor for a brain scan, just out of interest really, and as the doctor reveals that his amygdala simply doesn’t respond to the same level of stress or fearful stimuli as ‘normal’ people.

This lack of emotional engagement could make for a difficult connection with the audience, but the scale of his ambition, the scale of El Capitan, and the way the film-makers pace their approach to his final attempt at climbing the Freerider route make sure that the film never loses its magnetic nature throughout its 100 minute run-time. For all Honnold’s idiosyncrasy, he is a really fascinating subject for a documentary. Added to this, directors Jimmy Chin and Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi know what they’re doing, and they do it superbly. There is not a lot of time spent on narrative or overplaying any sentimentality or melodrama; but watching someone human do something superhuman makes for a great experience. The camerawork is truly mesmerising, and the views are astonishing – if you’ve got Vertigo I wouldn’t recommend watching this – but if you appreciate good film-making (and aren’t likely to throw up at the prospect of looking over a 3,000 foot cliff) then this is an absolute treat.

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englishgeek82-blog · 5 years

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Spinal Bros go up to 11.

Bros: After the screaming stops (2018, dir Joe Pearlman &David Soutar)

Music documentaries have started getting good recently. Arguably starting with the navel-gazingly black and white arthouse examination of Take That’s five-piece reunion ‘Look Back, Don’t Stare’ in 2010, and refined by films like Asif Kapadia’s superbly intimate ‘Amy’ in 2015, the Oasis retrospective ‘Supersonic’ the year after, and this year’s super glossy polychromatic sensory overload of ‘A Head Full of Dreams’ by Mat Whitecross, there has however been something missing. All of these have been serious, artistically credible examinations of British music phenomena, and while that’s got its place, I feel as though in these overly serious times of universal brouhaha, we have been crying out for a film that could somehow out Spinal-Tap Spinal Tap, and yet strangely tug at the heartstrings at the same time. Well, worry no more - Matt and Luke Goss are here to provide that very film.

Bros, for anyone under the age of 30, were briefly the biggest thing in the pop world in the late 80s. With a string of hits under their belt and a massive-selling debut album, it seemed that they epitomised everything that British 80s synthy-teenybopper-pop had to give. And that’s the problem - they did. Lots of shiny surface, not a lot of depth. Blessed with incredible good looks but cursed by it being the 1980s and fashion being, let’s say a relative term, Bros shone almost as bright as their bleached blonde hair before fading into obscurity almost as quickly. In a famous interview at the height of their fame, British TV’s favourite Uncle elect Terry Wogan asked them avuncularly, ‘Have you boys given any thought to what you’ll do when the screaming stops?’ Fast forward to November 2017, and minus original member Craig Logan (who was always ‘that other bloke in Bros’) the brothers signed on to a reunion gig at London’s o2, and this film tells the story of that reunion.

In equal parts the film is laughable and endearing, awkward and sincere, deluded and perspicacious about its subjects. It’s great success comes in the emotional connection it brings to a story that could easily, like its subjects did in the 90s, miss the mark and simply become irrelevant. Although ostensibly about a band reunion, and despite the fact that plenty of the dialogue could genuinely have come from Christopher Guest, the film wisely decides to focus on the story of two estranged brothers trying to find out how to have a relationship again, rather than the music of Bros which, while undeniably good 80s pop, hasn’t aged particularly well.

It’s a fascinating thing to see. Unlike some faded 80s pop stars, both brothers have enjoyed considerable success since the band split, with Luke having acted in several high profile films and moved into producing his own movies, and Matt being an established (and indeed award winning) fixture on the Vegas strip, it seems that neither brother needs to do this reunion for financial reasons. Staying in touch with showbiz but adding in a mix of Hollywood and Vegas has also provided the two boys from North London with a fairly intriguing detachment from reality - something brought home hilariously by some of the cod-philosophy on show in their talking head interviews and indeed the diva strips and tantrums that pepper the fractious interactions between the brothers after they reunite in the rehearsal room. Despite some of the pathos-laden attempts at being ‘deep and meaningful’ (there are ‘highlight’ reels on YouTube, but they don’t quite manage to capture the majestic Partridge-esque atmosphere) eventually the human side does come through, and as the brothers share their stories about their sister’s untimely death in the late 80s at the height of their fame, and their relationship with their mother who passed away shortly before the reunion, the director employs some fairly effective storytelling techniques to start to bring them closer together. By the time they sit side by side in the final day of rehearsals, tearfully working out a song written for their mum, it’s hard not to feel for them and begin - despite it all - to properly root for the band and the reunion to come off.

I was born just too late to really care about Bros in the 80s, though I was very aware of them. Of course as soon as the 90s rolled around and music moved on at the incredible and boundary-smashing pace that saw the powerful cynicism and alienation of grunge, and the swaggering lad culture of indie and Britpop come around, Bros were quickly relegated to the role of throwback pop jokes. There are times in this documentary when it seems like they are determined to cliche themselves into the role of deluded has-been Spinal Tap punchlines, but by the time the film reaches its conclusion, it’s hard not to feel genuine affection for them and genuine interest in their story. Even if you’ve never heard of them, I would recommend checking this out and gaining an insight into the zany and oddball machinations of the world of pop.

#Bros AfterTheScreamingStops Documentary SpinalTap Coulditbeparody

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englishgeek82-blog · 5 years

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Take the Ball, Pass the Ball - review

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a football fan. Actually, I vaguely remember it starting at Italia 90 and my being absolutely hooked by the star names that graced that admittedly quite underwhelming tournament. Shortly after that, I remember Barcelona winning the European Cup at Wembley in 1992 and being captivated by the sheer exoticism of the idea that a team from Spain were playing in London. They had such stellar names in their line up that a 10 year old boy from Leeds was bound to be hooked. One of those names, of course, was midfielder Josep Guardiola. In 2008 he was appointed as Barcelona manager, and the years that followed saw his team produce some of the best football ever witnessed. Barcelona were imperious, winning 14 trophies in just 4 years. But it wasn’t just the victories that caught the eye; it was the style. Playing with pace, freedom, and seemingly with the ball on a string, 11 players managed to redefine what we have come to expect under the heading ‘good football’. Teams were ruthlessly put to the sword, but dispatched with such elegance and grace, they seemed to have been throttled by a velvet boa constrictor. As a spectator, when that team hit their stride (and they seemed to hit their stride every single week) you simply couldn’t look away. With layers and threads that ran far beyond the 90 minutes on the pitch, watching Barcelona’s story unfold was a thrilling experience, and in this documentary, Duncan McMath does a pretty decent job of bringing some of that thrill to the screen. The only problem is that the final product, although interesting and more insightful than a lot of documentaries about football clubs, is not nearly as thrilling as just watching the team was.

The big names are out in force for this film; writer Graham Hunter has worked in Spanish football for a long time now and he clearly secured some huge stars to give their opinions and thoughts on this golden period of Barcelona’s history. And they speak openly and honestly, it seems, about their experiences with the club. It’s a refreshing insight into how one of European football’s giants was down on its heels before being thrust back into the limelight by a former player, plucked seemingly from obscurity, in the form of Guardiola. There’s plenty of history given about Johann Cryuff and the huge role he had to play in forming the identity of the club, and his son Jordi speaks eloquently about the impact his father had on the game, and on FC Barcelona specifically. The star players from the time are all there – some who still play for the club and others who have moved on, but all speak warmly about their golden four years as part of the best team in club football history. Interestingly, though, not everyone gets a turn on the microphone. Most notable by his absence is Zlatan Ibrahimovic, who famously despised Guardiola and never had the kind of impact that was expected of him at the club. Ibrahimovic’s autobiography talks scathingly about Guardiola in a way that this film would seemingly never dream of doing; but in the film’s defence, it’s not aiming for balance necessarily, it’s aiming to put some gloss on an already shiny chapter in the club’s history.

The film moves from the dark days before Guardiola, heavy defeats to arch-nemeses Real Madrid and a lack of identity and direction, through to his appointment, the changes he made to the team, and some of the narratives off the pitch that made this such an intriguing and engaging time to watch football. The telling of Eric Abidal’s battle with cancer, returning to play in the famous Champions League final of 2011 is particularly moving. The film is, though, somewhat myopic in its belief that it was simply Guardiola’s magic touch that added the necessary magic to the team. Let’s not forget that the squad at the time consisted of several of the best players in the world, arguably at their peak. Four of Barcelona’s recognised first XI won the European Championships of 2008 and the World Cup in 2010 with Spain. Dani Alves at right back was largely considered to be the best player in his position in the world, and in Thierry Henry and Samuel Eto’o the team had two of the best strikers on the planet up front. Alongside them, of course, emerged the prodigious talent of the best player in the world, Lionel Messi. With this wealth of talent at his disposal, the right mix of youth and experience, and a spine so solid it may as well have been hewn from granite, Guardiola’s job may have been a little easier than it’s made to sound here.

This is not just a talking-heads production though; the contributions are from huge stars, and a reliable set of journalists who will be familiar to those with an interest in Spanish football, including the ever-solid Sid Lowe who provides excellent context with concision and detail. Incidentally, Lowe’s book ‘Fear and Loathing in La Liga’ is a great in-depth look at the bitter rivalry between Barcelona and Real Madrid, which covers not only the football but the political aspect too – something conspicuously lacking from this film. Graham Hunter, meanwhile, seems oddly uneasy giving his opinions, which is unusual for someone so experienced in his role as pundit. Hearing him say ‘Barcelona, meanwhile, hadn’t read the script’ has a twinge of irony about it given that it sounds like reading a script is exactly what he’s doing. Still, that’s only a minor quibble and not the thing that stops the film really getting the adrenaline going.

The main problem with the film for me is its replaying of some of the action that is spoken about in such hushed and elegiac tones. To watch this Barcelona team in full flight was a sight to see – a captivating and exhilarating experience. But, for some reason (perhaps a rights issue), hardly any of that action makes it to the screen in a recognisable form. There are quick cuts, smash cuts, editing tricks and wizardy that show the action but in quick-fire and not always clear ways. Actually if you want to get a sense of just how dominant the team were in this period, you could get a better one by watching highlights of three or four key matches and revelling in the gorgeous football being played. There is an argument to be made that simply watching the football is the testament to its brilliance, and you don’t get to do that nearly enough here. The interviews are interesting, and the story itself deserves to get told, but the football is the real star of this tale and it isn’t given nearly enough screen time. Still, as a companion piece to some of those highlight reels, and as a nostalgic look back at the excitement of those four years that Guardiola took a sleeping giant and stuck a needle full of adrenaline right into its heart, this film does a good job and is an enjoyable experience. If you don’t really like football much, or are a dyed-in-the-wool Real Madrid fan…maybe do what Lionel Messi couldn’t seem to do that season, and just give it a miss.

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englishgeek82-blog · 6 years

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Great Scott! Is Back to the Future the best film trilogy ever?

I was watching the Back to the Future films recently, and it dawned on me that I'd forgotten just how brilliantly enjoyable the trilogy is. In fact, I enjoyed it so much that I started to wonder if it just might be the best film trilogy ever made. I know it wouldn’t be first choice for a lot of people, but I thought that nevertheless, it might be worth comparing it to some of the other standard choices to see how it measures up. The major issue of course, is how you define “best”. I’m looking at the films as a collective whole, the overall story and effect of the entire narrative. I’m not judging it on solitary acting performances, or even the depth and development of the major characters, but rather how enjoyable and convincing the story is, and how easy the films make it for the viewer to enter and accept the premise of their world. For instance, the Back to the Future trilogy is about as unrealistic as any films could ever be. But so are Lord of the Rings, Terminator, Star Wars and The Matrix. The Bourne films and the Godfather films have a more realistic feel to them, although I’m not sure anyone would really defend them as being 100% true to life if placed under oath, so let’s remember that suspension of disbelief is an important part of any film experience. But what counts is that once you are inside that world, that the films stay true to it. This is a glaring error in the Matrix trilogy, which seems to make its own rules up as it goes along. The Indiana Jones trilogy seems to suffer the same problem, with Temple of Doom really never making up its mind as to what kind of film it wants to be, and consequently ending up as not much of a film at all. Plus, of course, there’s a fourth film in that particular trilogy but I’m being polite and not mentioning it.

I’m also judging the films as a trilogy, not as single films. Die Hard is an incredibly brilliant film, but the trilogy of which it is a part is not. There’s a fourth AND fifth entry in that trilogy, but I’m being polite and not mentioning them. The same goes for The Godfather, The Empire Strikes Back, and The Matrix. I’m also not counting “unofficial trilogies”, like Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo and Juliet, Strictly Ballroom and Moulin Rouge. Plenty to recommend in all those films, and they have been lumped together by Luhrmann, but as far as I’m concerned, it simply doesn’t count. Even Kevin Smith’s films in the View Askewniverse aren’t going to be counted in this, largely because there are more than 3 of them anyway, and second of all because the films are completely different stories linked tenuously together by supporting characters and locations, which doesn’t quite cut the mustard, and so they too, do not count.

The reason they don’t count is that unofficial trilogies aren’t telling the same story, and so you can’t have sly little references to the other movies therein. One of the many things that impress me about the BTTF trilogy is the self-referential nature of the films, which is common in a lot of sequels and trilogies, but rarely as subtle as it is here. Even the way Marty crosses the road when finding himself in a new time zone by the clock tower is consistent, not to mention the supporting characters such as the Statler family’s horse/car business, and the Texaco filling station, shown in the first two films and referenced in the third. This is one of the cleverest techniques in this trilogy and makes the films feel all the more familiar and makes repeat viewings all the more rewarding.

Now, obviously I realise that when it comes to epic genius in terms of acting and directing, the films may not be up there with The Godfather. That being said, Godfather III is notably poorer than the other two, and it could be argued that it's not even thematically consistent, which I don't think you can say about BTTF. The first two Godfather films are undoubtedly cinematic masterpieces, (though on a recent viewing I was surprised at how the first one has aged) but they certainly don’t have any of the feel-good factor of the Future films. You don’t just channel surf, spot Godfather II and decide to watch it for a laugh – like so many other classics, Citizen Kane, Casablanca, Lawrence of Arabia, Gone with the Wind, to name but a few, you have to make a decision to sit down and watch it. This is all well and good, but it’s a solitary journey. It’s a rewarding one too, but you could never sit down with friends at a party and play those films and expect the humour levels in the room not to nose-dive. Al Pacino is incredible, in all three films, and Brando still sends shivers down the spine in the original, not to mention the more-than-able supporting cast who ply their trade with such style alongside them. But the story and cast of Godfather III seems completely out of kilter with the tone of the original two, and this was commented on heavily by critics. I personally think the third film has much in its corner, another fine performance by Pacino, a fitting conclusion to the epic story of Michael Corleone and Andy Garcia’s impressive turn as the young hot-headed Vincent. But there’s no denying that it stumbles through some very tenuous plot lines and is over-populated with characters that completely fail to enhance the story. Finally, Sofia Coppola, although she is not as bad as everyone says, is still bad. The Godfather is so hugely different from Back to the Future that it’s almost pointless to even hold them up under the same light, but for a trilogy that I would pick to watch when I was at a loose end and wanted cheering up, there is no doubt that I would dive for the Delorean every time.

I also know that in terms of Sci-Fi influence and impact, the films are not up there with the original Star Wars films. And the Star Wars films hold the aces in some areas too. For instance, Biff and the other Tannens are effective villains for their genre of film, but they’re more pantomime than would be allowed in a film that took itself seriously. Darth Vader, on the other hand, is a truly great villain, especially when his story is further revealed and his tragedy brought to the fore. As heroes go, Luke Skywalker certainly undergoes a more immense journey of personal development than Marty McFly, but he doesn’t have Marty’s quick wit and he’s a whiny little so-and-so, a trait that he obviously picked up from his father, if the god-forsaken and indeed critically-forsaken, and indeed audience-forsaken prequels are anything to go by. As for things that are wrong with the films, there’s very little – especially with the first two films, but by the time of Return of the Jedi, the Ewok storyline grates on even the most sympathetic fan. Once you compare the original three to the prequels, the originals look like genuine masterpieces, but then once you compare the home video my grandmother shot of my 10th birthday to the Star Wars prequels, you get the same result. And once you start to bring in the storylines of the prequels, the rule about staying true to the world that you have asked the viewer to enter goes flying out of the window like a drop-kicked Ewok. The prequels are truly three of cinema’s great horrors in my opinion, and sadly because they are prequels, their very existence adversely affects the original films. Incidentally, and strangely, even though the insinuations of incest are much greater in BTTF, and in fact both sets of films contain exactly the same amount of screen-time for blood relatives kissing each other, it’s much more unsettling in Star Wars than it is in Back to the Future.

So, we arrive at this century’s most titanic Sci-fi achievement (if you ask some people) - Christopher Nolan’s Batman trilogy? Batman Begins is one of my favourite films of all time, with Christian Bale’s performance so impressive that I thought I’d never see a better turn in a Batman film, until Heath Ledger’s incredible Joker burned itself into all our minds. I remember thinking If the third Nolan/Bale film was even half as good as the two that precede it, I would find it almost impossible to pick holes in it. Fortunately, it wasn’t. I wanted to like The Dark Knight Rises, I really did – and I did like it, but it was not the conclusion to the story for which I was hoping. Bat Bale’s growl whenever he speaks (which seemed like a good character move on Bale’s part in the first film) is irritating at best by the end of two hours plus of The Dark Knight and another two hours plus of The Dark Knight Rises. Tom Hardy’s Bane is menacing in appearance, but a big softie deep down and also speaks through his (ostentatious, to put it lightly) space mask in a way that makes him sound like the Head Boy of a southern private school who is addressing his prefects via a home-made walkie-talkie. There are also plot holes so massive in both TDK and TDKR that you could quite comfortably drive a DeLorean through them. The plot hole accusation is also true of the BTTF films, but since they never took themselves too seriously anyway, you could argue that the minutiae of time travel physics don’t matter as much as the overall effect of having a really good laugh.

The Back to the Future trilogy might not be considered as impressive, visually, as the Lord of the Rings films, but if you look at the standard of visual effects against the era in which the films were made, I think there’s a fine argument to be made that BTTF was hugely impressive. The LOTR films have been received incredibly well, and have plenty to recommend them, although they're all 16 hours long and if you don't like that particular genre, you'll be asleep before you see your first hobbit. And yes, I know they won a million Oscars, but that doesn’t always equal sheer enjoyment. Titanic won Best Picture because it looked nice, but was it really the best film of that year? Here are some films that didn’t win Best Picture at the Oscars, just for fun.

Citizen Kane, 12 Angry Men, To Kill a Mockingbird, Dr Strangelove, Bonnie & Clyde, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, Cabaret, The Exorcist, Dog Day Afternoon, Jaws, Taxi Driver, Star Wars, Apocalypse Now, Raging Bull, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Goodfellas, Dangerous Liaisons, Born on the 4th of July, My Left Foot, JFK, A Few Good Men, The Fugitive, Pulp Fiction, The Shawshank Redemption, Fargo, LA Confidential, Saving Private Ryan, The Green Mile, The Sixth Sense, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Hudson Hawk. All masterpieces.

For action and adventure, it's possible that the Back To The Future films don't compare with the Indiana Jones films; although they have more than their fair share, they admittedly are not as action-oriented as the Indy films. Sadly, following the below-average-but-probably-still-better-than-Temple-of-Doom “Kingdom of the Crystal Skull”, that trilogy has also been unnecessarily tampered with. Even if it hadn’t been, (or if Crystal Skull had been really good), the fact remains that Temple of Doom is pretty naff compared to the other two original movies. I’m not sure any adventure film will ever rival The Last Crusade, because that film pretty much has everything you could ever want from an action movie. Nazis being crap? Check. Exotic Locations? Check. Sean Connery? Check. Harrison Ford? Check. Biblical epic-ness? Check. And finally, Alison Doody...check. So, on its own, yes I would concede that Last Crusade is a better film than any of the BTTF flicks – but only just. As a trilogy though, our survey still comes back with a big X.

For Biblical allegory, although not for mind bending “ooh, makes you think”-ness (which isn’t really a thing, I just made it up) – the films don’t compare with the Matrix trilogy, but then unlike the Matrix trilogy, the second two BTTF films aren’t redolent of the Chernobyl aftermath. The first Matrix film is a really good (not great) film, with a really good (not great) idea behind it. As a standalone piece of cinema, it must rank as an important contribution to the art. However, the sequels are so mind-bendingly awful and lost in tracts of their own self-righteousness that really the whole concept is ruined and the brilliance of the first film is lost.

Pirates of the Caribbean is probably the closest set of films in terms of the general style, some wacky characters, good old fashioned escapade fun and some funky special effects and pretty far-out plot lines. BUT, the films are long, especially the completely directionless third one. This is nothing compared to the fact that Orlando Bloom AND Keira Knightley “act” in all three films. Now, Keira Knightley is a strangely alluring actress, despite her funny mouth, and in the last decade she has proven some admirable acting chops, but here her wooden stylings are not to my tastes, and for the schoolboy crush factor, she’s certainly no Lea Thompson. As for Orlando Bloom, well, I’m really not a fan. Yes, you could argue that Jack Sparrow is a better single character than any in the BTTF films, and Johnny Depp a more accomplished actor than any of the “Future” cast, but that on its own isn’t enough to rescue it. Also, by the third film, Depp has disappeared so far up his own Black Pearl that the character doesn’t have any of its original charm anymore.

For hard hitting pace and action and gritty realism with intrigue and espionage, it definitely doesn't come close to the Bourne trilogy, and I can't really think of anything bad to say about that one. It’s different, for sure, but the Bourne trilogy actually reminds me of the BTTF films in more than one way. For instance, there’s no single performance in any of the three films that truly stands out. Brian Cox is excellent, as always, as are Joan Allen and Matt Damon, but none of them put in an Oscar-winning turn. This is a good thing, in my opinion, because the films don’t demand it. The story and action is enough. Like BTTF, the cast are brilliant in their roles, but none of them dominate the screen and take away from the rest of the film, like Heath Ledger does in The Dark Knight. When he’s not on screen, all you can think is that you wish he was. This is not the case in the Bourne films, where no single character is so crucial that you can’t live without them. The films are not made for fun, and have little humour in them, and so there is no comparison there, but they stay thematically consistent and tell a story that stays completely true to the world it inhabits. If I had to pick a fault, it would be that the non-linear style of the end of the second film and start of the third is hugely confusing, but then I could hardly deny that certain parts of the third BTTF film could have been trimmed, so let’s not get too close into criticising brilliant trilogies.

Other notable trilogies could include:

· Die Hard (except there's 4 of them now, and the second one is rubbish)

· Home Alone (only joking. The first two are good though.)

· Jurassic Park (maybe if the third one had had some effort put into it by anyone associated with it, director, actors, etc)

· Evil Dead (first one, brilliant – other two, I’m not sure)

· Spiderman (Hmmm, the first two are superb. But any trilogy that includes that pointless “Emo Spidey” section of Spiderman 3 doesn’t deserve a place at this table. I mean, seriously, what the HELL were they thinking? It’s a bad film without that, but that absolutely nails its coffin permanently shut.)

· Terminator (third one rubbish, and there’s a fourth one now anyway)

There are also other film trilogies of course, like High School Musical, Matrix, X-Men, Mission: Impossible, Ace Ventura (yes, they made a third), Austin Powers, Mighty Ducks, Beverly Hills Cop, Blade, The Ocean’s films, Robocop, Rush Hour, Scream, Spy Kids, Transporter, Ice Age, I Know What You Did Last Summer, etc but all of these are discounted for either being a) completely terrible or b) let down by at least one entry in the set.

So, this is obviously a gigantically subjective theme, and a very subjective blog – and I’m fine with that, and I hope that everyone has different ideas about what constitutes the perfect film trilogy. After all, all of the above is only my opinion. But, fellow film lovers, let me ask you this - if someone sat you down and said "Right, you've got to watch an entire trilogy all the way through for pure enjoyment," is there a better choice than Back to the Future?

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