Orphans
Directed by Peter Mullan. Starring Gary Lewis, Douglas Henshall, Stephen McCole, Rosemarie Stevenson
A flawed but powerful piece of film-making which lingers long in the memory, despite its difficulties, Orphans is a film of extremities, often difficult to watch, but also full of surprises. While some comparisons may be drawn with Ken Loach's work, Orphans is a highly original film which fuses naturalism with metaphor in its depiction of a family ripped apart by tragedy and violence. The stereotype of the Glasgow hard man is subverted, explored and mocked, while the often taboo subject of bereavement is treated not just with tenderness but with a refreshing sarcasm. In creating his gallery of grotesques, Mullan seems to be attempting a portrait of contemporary Scotland, an attempt which sometimes appears forced, but pays off brilliantly at other moments.
Beloved
Directed by Jonathan Demme. Starring Oprah Winfrey, Thandie Newton, Kimberley Elise, Danny Glover
Demme has directed a stolid, rather dull film that never breaks free of its reverential approach to its material, and that fails to find cinematic language for the literary strategies with which Toni Morrison's novel explored memory, loss and the bitter legacy of slavery. This very long (almost three hours) film occasionally sparks to life but, after Philadelphia, this is another disappointing offering.
Patch Adams
Directed by Tom Shadyac. Starring Robin Williams, Monica Potter, Daniel London, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Bob Gunton
We've already had Williams as holy simpleton, man-child, tender, life-saving physician and life-affirming entertainer in the midst of death. In Patch Adams, we get all of these rolled up in one, along with their inevitable conclusion, Williams as Messiah, a smirking Jesus in a very bad shirt. Supposedly based on the true story of a medical doctor who had to struggle with the authorities before being allowed to practise his unorthodox brand of humour-centred therapy, this repellent film allows its star to wallow like a hippopotamus in a muddy orgy of self-love. Yuck.