Ace in the Hole - MatthewHunt

Loosely based on the life of Mughal emperor Akbar (whose wayward son falls for the lowly
courtesan Anarkali against his wishes), Asif's historical melodrama set the template for
modern Indian cinema. Breaking all box office records when it was finally released, Mughal E
Azam took nine years to make, during which colour film stock arrived in India - allowing two
lavish colour musical sequences and the finale to take centre stage in an otherwise black and
white epic.
Mulholland Drive
(David Lynch, 2001)
David Lynch, as anyone familiar with his movies can safely say, is a man with certain
fixations. He loves beautiful women in trouble, especially when they're in tears. He adores
doppelgangers, split personalities, and freaks of all stripes. He's attracted to clean, pretty
surfaces that can be ripped aside to show the filth and depravity lurking beneath. And he's
wired for stories with the associative logic of dream-tales that can spiral out into infinite
possibilities or double back on themselves. This is his masterpiece: Mulholland Drive - a
movie of such strange beauty, ingenious structure, and primal power that it transcends all
preconceptions. Bonus: it's also very funny. "I just came from Deep River, Ontario, and now
I'm in this . . . dream place," says new Hollywood arrival Betty (the astonishing Naomi
Watts) to the raven-haired amnesiac who calls herself Rita (Laura Elena Harring). As Betty
investigates the enigma of Rita's identity - which is somehow connected to the sinister forces
meddling with a film by a young hotshot director (Justin Theroux) - Mulholland Drive operates
as a detective story, an acerbic Hollywood satire, a passionate romance, and a noir with
competing femmes fatales. Famously, the narrative splits open and scrambles itself in
midstream - but this puzzle has a solution, one that reveals the movie as a heartbreaking
fever dream built on wish-fulfilling fantasy and the madness of unrequited love. The dream
place, as it turns out, is a hallucinatory nightmare, but one of such beauty that it's no wonder
that so many are drawn to its devouring flame.
Jessica Winter
Muriel's Wedding
(PJ Hogan, 1994)
Quirky Oz humour can often be hit or miss, but this tragicomedy is a weird and wonderful joy,
largely down to Toni Collette's marvellously sweet turn as Muriel, who just wants to get
married and away from her bizarre family. Rachel Griffiths makes a memorable debut in the
spunky best friend role of a lifetime.
My Architect
(Nathaniel Kahn, 2003)
Supremely affecting documentary portrait of architect Louis Kahn by his (illegitimate) son,
excavating both the complicated relationship between the two, and also the sublime public
legacy of Kahn's buildings. Personal film-making that draws you into its world.
My Beautiful Laundrette
(Stephen Frears, 1985)
Bitter strands of scathing anti-Thatcherism are woven into the fabric of immigrant idealism in
this groundbreaking Hanif Kurieishi script. Omar, son of Pakistani intellectual, and his
childhood friend and former racist thug Johnny (a phenomenal early performance from Daniel
Day Lewis) embark on an illicit love affair as they rebuild Omar's greedy uncle's laundrette,
while the elder generation lament their lost culture.
My Brilliant Career
(Gillian Armstrong, 1979)
Judy Davis gives a complex performance as the precocious feminist resisting marriage in this
subtle coming-of-age drama. Set at the turn of the century, Armstrong's film deftly evokes the
repressively patriarchal society of rural Australia.