Halfway Haves and Have Nots

The theme of the hour seems to be a mid-way cinematic appraisal; a rummage through the first six months of 2009 to see what's already worth timecapsuling and what's destined for a hasty dispatch into the burgeoning void of celluloid gubbins...

1 Let The Right One In - a genuine masterpiece, LTROI combines eerie poignancy and blank dread whilst noiselessly shifting gears before the greatest finale in recent memory. It manages to render extreme weirdness not only palatable but heart-rending, and how many films that contain horrific murder and severed body parts have ever elicited wistful sobs?

2 Synecdoche, New York - the second bona-fide classic of the year was labyrinthine, bizarre and contorted with the kind of existential rage that Charlie Kaufman has become non pareil at addressing. The point is: I can't explain it. That's a good thing. Completely magnificent and heartbreaking.

3 The Wrestler - Apparently, Mickey Rourke hasn't had botox. I'm not having that. Nonetheless, he is indispensable as the burnt-out 'Ram', touring school gyms and other low-rent venues to get his head mashed and his bod punctured by staples for chump change, chasing stripper Marisa Tomei and failing to re-ignite a relationship with his estranged daughter, a superb Evan Rachel Wood. Cheesy bar scene aside, never puts a foot wrong.

4 The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button - why did they bother? Brad Pitt can't carry a film and Cate Blanchett has never been worse, hammier or seemingly ill at ease. Some magnificent cinematography can't rescue this appalling vanity project, which is airlessly and humourlessly calibrated to lightly squeeze the tear-ducts whilst making you really think about the aching beauty of life and the relentless passing of time etc etc. None more curious.

5 The Hangover – missing teeth, babies getting whacked by car doors, Mike Tyson failing to act, tigers in bathrooms, hideous sunburn, beardy weirdness from a young John Goodman-alike (the ace Zach Galifianakis), spiked Jagermeister, impromptu marriages, effete Chinamen gangters, stolen cop cars…the funniest film since a fake Kazakhstani mud-wrestled naked.

6 Seven Pounds – possibly the oddest film of the year so far, with Will Smith continuing along the ‘martyr/messiah’ schtick he seems hellbent on. The outrageously attractive Rosario Dawson is better every time and Smith does as good a job as you’d expect, but it’s a leap to buy the film’s premise. Still, it almost works, despite eschewing sanity and a vaguely believable plot. Ridiculous notions of redemption and making good on past mistakes – is that all Will is interested in anymore?

7 Valkyrie – TC is very good, as he tends to be. Admit it: he’s a fine actor. Forget his unedifying ‘real-life’ persona, the man can act, and there’s never a hint of him being out of his depth here, or resorting to Pacino-esque shouty histrionics to mask a distinct loss of mojo. He’s never overshadowed by the stellar ensemble – Branagh, Nighy, Stamp, Wilkinson, Hitler, Goebbels – and avoids channelling a 1940’s Snake Plissken. And the film, despite vacuum-packing the crucial, nerve-jangling aftermath of the botched assassination attempt into what felt like 20 minutes, works pretty well.

8 Watchmen – sporting crisply beautiful hyper-real visuals, Watchmen is an odd old experience. It really is a staggering looking thing and is largely akin to re-reading the graphic novel after munching on far too many hallucinogenics. A lustrous, slickly synthetic New York is brought to chemical, nightmarish life as a swarming alternate reality aglow with stark, dazzling colours, frazzled neon gaudiness and a kind of glum, spectral torque (Billy Crudup’s wonderfully vivid Dr Manhattan is a dissonant, radiant hum of electric blue sinew). The film lives and dies on the giddiness of the spectacle and, treated as such, is like nothing else.

9 Terminator Salvation – Terminator Salvation is far from a bad addition to the franchise, despite being a bit wonky and forgettably messy. Christian Bale is Christian Bale to the max: gloomy, obsessive, scarred and narky, he’s ten stone of righteous, gritty angst in the face of Armageddon, Skynet, McG and anyone else who wants any. Sam Worthington tries gamely to discourage you from thinking that he really belongs on Home and Away and drops the ball far too often (presumably Cameron can elicit a better performance from him in the upcoming Avatar) leaving Bale to carry the film beyond the clutches of disaster it dallies with but ultimately eludes. Common and Bryce Dallas Howard, not to mention the great Michael Ironside, are in it, as well as a Madame Tussaud’s/sex-doll version of Arnie, but you’re not likely to remember much beyond Bale shouting something ridiculous while explosions perforate your eardrums and various machines clank and plunder away unscarily.

10 Looking For Eric – strangely hilarious Ken Loach film starring the legendary French renaissance man Cantona, who appears from beyond a cloud of weed smoke as a kind of life guru to a shambling postman whose life is in freefall. Cue motivational chitchats to a goalfest montage backdrop, clumsy relationship repair-work and male-bonding winning the day. With the odd police raid and threat of dog savagery thrown in just to prove it’s a Loach film.