Critics give their personal opinions of films they have seen recently

A Blues Brothers 2000
Eighteen years after the original Blues Brothers movie, director John Landis and his co-writer Dan Ackroyd have decided to revive the franchise. Unfortunately, the thrill has gone, although the music is as brash and energetic as ever and Elwood’s stunt driving continues to astound.
Sequences such as the huge, ghostly skeletons of cowboys galloping across the night during the Blues Brothers’ spirited rendition of ‘Riders in the Sky (A Cowboy Legend)’ look stunning in themselves, but have no bearing on the story.
Blues fans will doubtless relish the wealth of musical talent on display (it’s a far richer array than the first film’s). Over time Blues Brothers 2000 will probably attain the same massive cult status as its predecessor, but only the most indulgent of audiences is likely to be happy with this sequel.

B Journey to the Beginning of the World
This is not Manoel de Oliveira’s final film – the tireless 90-year-old director has since made a follow-up. However, it was the last appearance of Marcello Mastroianni, playing a film director called Manoel, to all appearances a representation of Oliveira himself.
Oliveira is arguably the most marginal of Europe’s major directors, especially for British audiences – his only previous release here (and then only just) was 1993’s Abraham Valley.
However, on the festival circuit Oliveira is revered, as much for his longevity as for his
varied and highly eccentric output. The film’s opening section offers us something dauntingly simple, shot with audacious economy – a series of close-ups of people talking in the back of a car. It promises a sort of film symposium in the guise of a road movie: after all, on most road trips, there’s little to do but talk and watch the scenery. At times, Oliveira simply has his camera gaze out of the car’s rear window as the road recedes.

C City of Angels
Although it is not without flaws, City of Angels stands out from the dreary succession of recent Hollywood remakes of European movies. This is partly due to Dana Stevens’ screenplay and Brad Silberling’s direction, which grab hold of the theme of director Wim Wenders’ 1987 film Wings of Desire and head off very much in their own direction with it. Most of all, however, City of Angels pleases because it is quite simply so surprising for a mainstream Hollywood movie. Designer Shay Cunliffe hits the tone precisely, with the angels in baggy suits and long black duster coats, which are especially effective when they gather in some of their preferred meeting places – the beach at dawn and dusk, in the city library during the day – invisible to all but each other (and us).
There is nothing in Silberling’s previous career – which comprises directing episodes of LA Law and NYPD Blue for television, followed by the kids’ film Casper – to prepare one for the confidence with which he handles a film in which tone is all. City of Angels is the sort of one-off we should surely welcome.

D Dad Savage
Strikingly shot in the bleak flatlands of Norfolk, Dad Savage is a British thriller that manages to conjure up a whole new cinematic landscape, and populates it without falling back on the stereotypes of bent policeman and East End gangsters. Making her feature debut, television director Betsan Morris Evans shows that she can put the wide Super 35 frame to impressive use as well. In the claustrophobic scenes in the cellar (to which the film keeps returning in between flashbacks), she charts the characters’ changing allegiances through the way she arranges them across the screen. Above ground, meanwhile, the wide screen captures the yawning emptiness of the East Anglian marshes, and hints at the corresponding emptiness of the backwater life Vic, Bob and H are trying to escape from by turning to crime.
If anything, the structure is a bit too intricate: the transitions in and out of flashback are jolting, and it’s not always clear whose point of view we’re flashing back from.

E Mojo
Adapted from Jez Butterworth’s acclaimed stage play, Mojo occupies the same strange netherworld as last year’s little-seen The SlabBoys, directed by John Byrne. Both were directed by their original writers; and both were brought to the big screen through television funding, which underlines their ultimate smallscreen destiny. Where Mojo has the edge on Slab Boys, however, is in the sheer quality of its performances, which consistently hold the audience’s attention even as the narrative shambles distractingly.
The fact that Mojo’s chances of making much impact among cinema-goers are remote
shouldn’t dampen Butterworth’s obvious enthusiasm. On this evidence, he has enough
talent to suggest triumphs ahead, although one wonders whether the screen or the theatre will prove more enticing for his trade.

F The Wedding Singer
The Wedding Singer is the third collaboration between the comedian Adam Sandler and writer Tim Herlihy, and as you might expect from the men behind Billy Madison and Happy Gilmore, it’s not a particularly clever comedy. The 1985 setting, of no importance to the plot, is the pretext for some cheap retro humour. But somehow, for all its simple-mindedness, this turns out to be a very winning romantic comedy. A pleasant surprise is Sandler’s singing. Playing opposite him is Drew Barrymore, who has managed to become a celebrity without ever having a lead role in a decent movie. As Julia in this film, however, she does wonders with an unremarkable part.