The big film this week is 300, director Zack Snyder’s gory and rabid retelling of the battle of Thermopylae, where 300 brave Spartan soldiers faced down the massed ranks of the mighty Persian Empire in 480BC.
Although panned on its 1967 release, Roman Polanski's third English-language movie, a horror comedy, is a delightful oddity. There's a dream-like, gothic quality to it as Prof Abronsius (Jack MacGowran) and assistant Alfred (Polanski) root out a nest of the undead in wintry Transylvania. The climactic Vampire's Ball is strikingly mounted, and it's easy to see how Polanski fell for leading lady Sharon Tate.
A key tome in the lovers-on-the-lam canon, with uncredited mastershots from a fledgling Martin Scorsese, Honeymoon Killers is the tale of a bloated, psychotic nurse (Shirley Stoler—Divine meets Louise Fletcher), her oily Spanish lover (Tony Lo Bianco) and the various needy, neurotic, half-witted women they deceive and murder. Startling photography, am-dram performances, and deeply misogynistic.
Oliver Stone in mind-fuck overdrive. Seven years after it provoked the most hysterical reactions to a movie since the '70s heyday of confrontational classics like A Clockwork Orange and Straw Dogs, NBK remains as violent, hilarious, unsettling, outrageous and awesome as ever.
At the peak of his cinematic powers and throwing everything into an increasingly volatile mix, Stone reworks Tarantino's original plundering spin on the familiar Hollywood tradition of lovers on a killing spree and sheerly eviscerates it.
