In the midst of a dangerous and brutal civil war a diamond smuggler seeks his fortune, a father seeks his son, and an American journalist seeks the story that will bring the truth to the world.

It is easy to imagine the sort of reviews Edward Zwick imagined for Blood Diamond.  The terms ‘heart breaking’, ‘eye opening’, ‘hard hitting’ and ‘penetrating’ are probably the sort Zwick had in mind.  Unfortunately the result is a film better described as ‘over-bearing’, ‘moralistic’, and ‘preachy’.

Blood Diamond is centred around the juxtaposition of Leonardo DiCaprio’s self-interested smuggler in search of a £2M diamond, and Djimon Hounsou’s hard-done-by family man in search of his kidnapped son.  No doubt Zwick was going after a message film about what we should really value in life.  Sadly he has actually produced a two-plus hour lecture that plays like an extended high budget documentary on the state of the African continent combined with a stern diatribe on the evils of western materialism.  So obvious and over-played are Zwick’s themes that by the end of his tirade we end up resenting his condescending tone and rebelling against what is probably a reasonably accurate portrayal of some serious problems.  Blood Diamond displays the same cultural self-loathing that Zwick brought us in The Last Samurai, but without the compensating entertainment value.

Narratively, the whole thing unfolds with tedious predictability as our anti-hero Danny Archer reforms his amoral ways in an abrupt ethical about-turn in the film’s dying moments.  Unbelievably, Blood Diamond becomes even worse in its final act as it augments moralism with sentimentality.  The biggest problem here is that while Zwick no doubt intends Archer to amend his behaviour as a result of moral revelation he in fact does so merely because of a debilitating injury.

On the positive side there are solid performances from both DiCaprio - who nails the South African accent - and Hounsou (sadly Jennifer Connelly is rather wooden).  Having recently caught a few minutes of Titanic on TV over Christmas it is quite startling to witness Leo’s transition from clean-shaven, baby-faced pretty boy to rugged, stubble-faced pretty boy.  Cinematography, direction, and editing are all competent, but nothing can really make up for the picture’s fundamental flaws.

Ultimately I found this film annoying, and at 137 minutes, remarkably wasteful.  I really hope that Zwick abandons the moral overtones in his next film and channels his talent into something that might be enjoyable to watch.

LA detectives Dormer and Eckhart head up to Alaska to help solve a grisly murder case, but while in pursuit of their suspect Dormer mistakenly shoots his partner dead.

This is Christopher Nolan’s first Hollywood film, following his independent pictures Memento and Following.  It seems tempting to infer from the comparatively subdued and conventional nature of this film that Nolan has been overwhelmed by his debut in the world of big budget, big star Hollywood.  This, however, would be a mistake.  The restraint and subtlety shown in this film is a sign that Nolan is emerging as a master craftsman in his field, not that his creativity has been stifled by the studio system.

Everything about this film is under-played.  Nolan’s naturalistic shooting style never distracts us from focussing on the story itself.  Unlike the heavily designed shooting style of Sunshine and Apocalypto there are very few stylised set-up shots in this film, and Nolan’s frequent use of intense close-ups and texturing inserts draws us into the film world without ever calling attention to itself.  David Julyan’s score, too, is understated but works perfectly without any fanfare.

There are compelling performances all round here, but Williams’ against-type turn as everyman killer Walter Finch is the biggest surprise.  Resisting the temptation to play the character up as a Hannibal Lecter stereotype Williams instead opts for a subtle approach, playing Finch as an ordinary man who just happens to be a killer, and in so doing creates a far more menacing character.

Pacino, of course, is also on top form and captures Dormer’s character arc perfectly as he transitions from the master detective to a sleep deprived, guilt ridden shell of his former self.  On the first viewing I was somewhat sceptical of the on-screen chemistry between the two leading men.  However, having now watched the picture twice I am convinced that this was merely a reaction to seeing these two together for the first time.  A Williams-Pacino leading duo isn’t something that would immediately have struck me as the best idea, but once you get over the initial strangeness the pairing works well.

There are plenty of memorable scenes here, but I particularly want to mention the chilling telephone conversation between Dormer and Finch in which our killer attempts a therapy-like rationalisation of his crime.  The frequency of cutting between Finch and flashback shots of the murder increases with the crescendo of Williams’ excitement as he describes his crime.  The contrast between Finch’s clinically cold justification and the visceral brutality of the inter-cut murder shots works to establish the Finch character brilliantly.  The combination of superb acting and inspired directing and editing in this scene produces a truly chilling effect.

There’s really nothing to complain about here at all.  While the film is not cinematically ambitious, everything in this movie is perfectly formed and the care that Nolan has taken over every scene is evident.  It may not be as inventive as Memento, but Insomnia succeeds quite nicely on its own terms and I look forward to seeing where Nolan goes after he finishes up his run on the Batman films.

The tranquility of utopian jungle living is disrupted when a group of slave traders kidnaps our heroes in order to sell them off for divine sacrifice.  ‘Jaguar Paw’ manages to escape, and must evade re-capture in order to be re-united with his stranded family.

How should we assess Mel Gibson’s directorial ability?  First of all, he clearly knows how to frame a shot.  He uses a bewilderingly wide array of angles and shot types to frame this film, and the result is that we rarely see a scene in the same way twice.  Hand held close-ups, wide shots, steady cam, and crane sequences are all used to great effect, but it is the aerial shots that really steal the show here with some truly beautiful moments.

Gibson’s other real achievement in Apocalypto is how he has managed to extract some great performances from a largely untried local cast.  It is a testament to his directorial prowess that all of the major characters, and most of the multitude of extras, are completely believable.

Sadly, though, he does have his weaknesses.  This film is vastly under-cut.  The first act drags along so slowly that I found myself fighting to maintain attention.  Long stretches of time are given over to character set-up that ultimately goes nowhere and serves only to delay the arrival of the chase sequence that forms the core of the film.

So, would the film have worked if Gibson had cut the waffle and moved along more speedily to the final act?  Unfortunately, no.  The film suffers far more fundamental flaws that reside in the underlying premise of the movie.  The movie opens on a quote from Will Durant: "A great civilization is not conquered from without until it has destroyed itself from within", the implication being that the Spanish were only able to subjugate the Mayan civilisation due to its internal moral decay and spiritual disharmony.  In fact, of course, the Conquistadors finally conquered the Mayans (after nearly two centuries of failed attempts) due to superior arms.  Furthermore, the Mayan peoples exist to this day and maintain a distinct culture and language.

Nevertheless, there is a level on which at least part of this film works.  If you can make it through the soporific opening to the core chase sequence then you will find a fairly solid - if unspectacular - mix of Homer, Die Hard, and Predator that comes together to tell the story of a man fighting against the odds to get home to his family.  This is entertaining and thrilling, if occasionally far-fetched, and works in isolation from the flawed elements in this film.

Finally, I can’t sign off this review without mentioning Apocalypto’s costume and make-up, which is extraordinary.  Every one of the hundreds of extras and cast is completely believable, and the artistry that has gone into accomplishing this goes a long way to drawing us into the world of the Mayans.  The sets, too, are remarkable in their detail and depth, and the city scenes in particular really benefit from the effort that has been put in here.

Ultimately this film fails, but Mel Gibson is obviously a talented director, and I really hope he can move beyond the spiritual clap-trap that infects this movie to do something more compelling in the future.

The Sun is dying, and eight improbably youthful scientists and astronauts must travel 92 million miles on board the pessimistically-named Icarus II (perhaps ‘Prometheus’ would have given our heroes more confidence) to save humanity.

Let me start with what this film does well.  It is one of the most visually arresting movies I have ever experienced.  The visual effects come courtesy of the Moving Picture Company, and they have succeeded in realising an absolutely beautiful vision of the sun as a dominant character in itself.  The star hangs in space with malevolent indifference, unaware of the carnage its enormous power is wreaking on our heroes.  There are a few truly astonishing shots, notably when we get to see the transit of Mercury across the face of the Sun, and when Cillian Murphy hangs alone in space between his bomb and the ship.  These images alone are worth the price of admission.

The first hour of the film is a taut, and relatively closely plotted, exploration of the psychological impact on the crew of the long space mission as they come to terms with their fate.  We are treated to some exceptionally well written scenes (thanks to Alex Garland) probing the tough decisions the cast must make as the mission spirals out of control.

This portion of the film belongs squarely in the ’serious sci-fi’ canon along with 2001, Alien, and Solaris; films that have obviously influenced Boyle’s vision significantly.   It is unfortunate, therefore, that the discipline exhibited here could not have been carried through to the close of the movie.

The laws of physics appear to be suspended for the last 40 minutes of Sunshine as it goes the way of the Matrix trilogy by severing its connection with reality.  The film seems to flounder about desperately in search of ultimate meaning as we are led through a bewildering pseudo-philosophical hodge podge of thematic indecision.  Is this film a reminder to remain humble in the face of the power of science?  Is it about the battle of science versus God?  Is it about the triumph of the human will over nature?  We’re never really quite sure.

But perhaps I’m being too hard on Sunshine.  Danny Boyle has crafted a beautiful film that really tries hard to be about something important; it’s just that it never quite pulls all his ideas together into anything truly compelling.