Ace in the Hole - MatthewHunt

Predator
(John McTiernan, 1987)
Arnold Schwarzenegger's inflated physique seemed to suit OTT scenarios, and Predator is
the apotheosis: crack US commandos get stalked by invisible alien big-game hunter in the
South American jungle. McTiernan pushes the film at a ferocious rate, and the heat gets to
the screenwriters: skinned soldiers, helicopter machine guns and enough un-PC cornball
quips to bring down a banana republic.
Pretty in Pink
(Howard Deutch, 1986)
For a brief, sparkling moment, a red-headed starlet called Molly Ringwald ruled the
aspirations of teenagers everywhere. That moment was the mid-1980s, decade of the Brat
Pack, and Ringwald's golden screen moment was this, the teen movie par excellence. Set to
a soundtrack that includes the Smiths, the Psychedelic Furs, and New Order, it was the movie
that made teen angst a hip global phenomenon, before cynicism about the nature of the new
teen market set in.
The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie
(Ronald Neame, 1969)
Here is one of the great comic turns of British cinema: Mr Chips with a sense of subversive
fun. Maggie Smith plays the formidable schoolmistress at a Edinburgh girls' school beneath
whose genteel exterior beats the heart of a romantic, aesthete and moralist. Robert Stephens
plays a local artist and in this dual-casting we see the happy cultural and biological lineage of
contemporary actor Toby Stephens.
The Princess Bride
(Rob Reiner, 1987)
"She gets kidnapped. He gets killed. But it all ends up okay." Thoroughly enjoyable comedy
action that playfully subverts the traditions of epic fairytale romps while at the same time
never losing sight of what makes them so absorbing in the first place. Stable boy Cary Elwes
falls for princess Robin Wright before being whisked off by dastardly pirates, while she finds
herself about to be married off to an evil prince. Packed with giants, wizards and villains, it's
proper multi-level entertainment.
The Producers
(Mel Brooks, 1968)
Postmodernism never got more outrageous. Mel Brooks's producer (Zero Mostel) and his
cringing accountant (Gene Wilder) hit on a plan to defraud their investors and the taxman by
staging a show so bad it would have to flop, and so no one would ask where the money went.
A musical about Hitler! But of course it's a smash, with sophisticates praising the primitive
power of its bad taste.
Psycho
(Alfred Hitchcock, 1960)
Described by its director as "a fun picture", this technical tour de force plays mercilessly on
audience voyeurism. Janet Leigh is the thief on the lam who holes up at the Bates motel and
is dispatched in the shower. Genius editing, knockout performances and twisted Freudian
plotting â€" all shot through with Hitch's slyly sadistic humour. Genius.
P'tang, Yang, Kipperbang
(Michael Apted, 1982)
Screenwriter Jack Rosenthal's TV movie for Channel 4 is a lovely gem. An exquisitely funny,
gentle coming-of-age comedy about a 12-year-old boy called Alan Duckworth who can't quite
summon up the courage to speak to the girl that he adores. As a cricket nut, addicted to the
Test Match radio commentary, Alan can hear John Arlott's sorrowing commentary on his
dismal performance in his head - an inspired vocal performance from Arlott himself.
The Public Enemy
(William A Wellman, 1931)