MikePadgett.com

• Director: Stefan Ruzowitzky
• Austria, 2007
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A busy master forger, Salomon Sorowitsch is a man with little concern for political ideals. And that’s what keeps him alive when war breaks out and he ends up in Sachsenhausen concentration camp. Receiving preferential treatment to other prisoners, Sorowitsch is given the task of forging the currency that will keep the Nazi war effort alive and ruin the Allies’ economies. Put simply, it’s a case of “(y)our money or your life”.

The balance of principles and survival adds massively to the tension of the movie. We are never left in any doubt that Sorowitsch and his colleagues are moments from the same fate as those over the wall. As a result the film feels much weightier than its mere 98 minutes.

Karl Markovics is an agreeably grim Sorowitsch. An opportunist with few redeeming features, but in the circumstances, we still find ourselves rooting for him even though other characters perhaps deserve more regard. Sachsenhausen is certainly no place for lofty words, yet oddly it brings Sorowitsch a sort of redemption.

• Director: Robert De Niro
• United States, 2006
• 

Matt Damon’s got a tough job here. On the one hand he needs to play the absolute stoic, for whom life-changing decisions are met wordlessly with little more than a glassy stare. On the other, he needs us to empathise with him as his personal life falls apart because he puts his country first.

Damon’s a pretty capable stoic, even if he’s pretty doubtful at everything else. His Tom Ripley was unfathomable, inscrutable. His Will Hunting was frustratingly brittle. And he’s got great support on paper: John Turturro (a wonderfully understated turn), Angelina Jolie (unforgivably miscast in a skeletal role), Michael Gambon, Alec Baldwin, William Hurt. Even Joe Pesci pops up briefly to lend a hand.

Trouble is, it doesn’t quite work. Though The Good Shepherd is a period piece, second time director De Niro can’t rely on nostalgia to warm our cockles as he did in A Bronx Tale. As a facsimile Cold War political thriller, it’s agreeably chilly, but the human story that acts as power generator struggles to get going and we’re left freezing outside.

• Director: Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck
• Germany, 2006
• 

Crass Hollywood remakes of European art film aren’t often successful. The big budgets, the bigger country and the biggest names tend to kill off every single cell of zeitgeist in the original. And I can see that happening here, when they get sad-jowled Nicolas Cage to emote all over this one.

A Stasi official instigates a surveillance operation on a successful playwright. Beginning with an implacable dedication to finding the evidence he needs to condemn his subject, the official instead grows to respect and perhaps envy him, with difficult consequences for both.

The Lives of Others is steeped in atmosphere, the performances are beautifully restrained and the material is worryingly relevant to our times. Top that, Weinstein. Or rather, don’t bother.

• Director: Kevin Macdonald
• United Kingdom, 2007
• 

James McAvoy’s turn as leading man here is a superb mix of naïveté, youthful exuberance and abject fear. It’s perhaps unfortunate then that Last King will always be remembered - pretty much to the exclusion of everyone and everything else - for Forest Whitaker’s career-defining performance.

As General Idi Amin Dada, the complex, brutal and at times thoroughly unhinged dictator of Uganda, Whitaker is terrifyingly believable. Just as Amin dominated Ugandan life so completely, Whitaker completely owns this movie, his character even managing to dominate the scenes in which he doesn’t appear.

Director Macdonald might not have intended to stake the entire success of the movie on the Amin characterisation working well but it seems that way, with Whitaker justly earning 2007’s Best Actor Oscar, such that you have to wonder what else there is to say about Last King without mentioning him. Art imitating life, indeed.

• Director: Julie Taymor
• United States, 2002
• 

Frida is almost brilliant. For a start, it has to be one of the most beautifully shot films this decade, thanks in no small part to the prodigal cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto who adds these triumphant visuals to his impressive list (Babel, Brokeback Mountain, 21 Grams, Amores Perros). Elliot Goldenthal’s soundtrack, enhanced by onscreen contributions from Lila Downs and Chavela Vargas, is rich and memorable.

What’s remarkable about Frida Kahlo’s art is that it uniquely expresses her internal self, representing multiple emotions often with some extra element that quietly disturbs. This film has all of that visual impact but lacks the emotional bite, leaving the art itself to fill key dramatic moments. It’s a bold tactic that doesn’t quite come off.

Salma Hayek’s portrayal of the Mexican artist is solid but the script, by Taymor and Edward Norton, doesn’t really stretch her enough and the peppering of rather conspicuous gringo dialogue in her part leaves a bitter taste. After two hours of beautiful images, I was left wondering, but for the wrong reasons.

• Director: Andrés Wood
• Chile, 2004
• 

The Machuca of the title is a young boy from a poor family who ends up in a public school that’s riding the high crest of a socialist wave sweeping over Chile. Pedro Machuca’s friendship with middle-class classmate Gustavo Infante is the main subject matter, with historical events looming large over the boys like the rainclouds that characterise the film’s outdoor scenes.

The events in question took place in the early 1970s, the era of Salvador Allende’s struggle for a socialist redistribution of wealth ending in Pinochet’s coup and accession. Wood lived this era at a similar age to that of Pedro and Gustavo and many scenes are appropriately hazy, shot from low angles to reflect the children’s point of view.

Whilst the photography is first-rate, the acting (non-professional in some cases) tends to be somewhat unemotive. As such, the human relationships feel underplayed, leaving the dramatic potential of the film unrealised at key moments.

• Director: Stephen Gaghan
• United States, 2005
• 

Syriana is a literate and highly engaging story of cause and effect in the global oil industry. It has a self-propelling pace similar to the one that moved Michael Mann’s The Insider.

Clooney here is magnetic in his downbeat role as the ex-CIA agent Bob Barnes, whose life has been spent in the perpetual twilight of serving his country’s interests in the Middle East and now struggles with changes he can no longer control. Barnes’ story is one of several, the others being connected directly to the oil business, but each influencing the others.

Syriana is a portentous statement that’s already strikingly relevant given the Western foreign policy of our current era, but the film’s wider message should spread well beyond that.