Dave’s Movie Diary

I revisit Michael Crichton’s 1973 sci-fi thriller where you can go on holiday, shoot robots and basically do whatever you want — until the robots stop playing along. And James Brolin finds himself dealing with another rattlesnake, just like in Capricorn One — clearly the man didn’t have a snake phobia.

I revisit Walter Hill’s Hard Times , and Charles Bronson is the real revelation — a remarkably controlled, stoic performance that might just be my favourite of his. Add in James Coburn, some brutally sweaty bare-knuckle fights and the fantastic grime of 1930s New Orleans, and you’ve got one hell of a little film.

I revisit Tom Tykwer’s wildly inventive 76-minute blast of energy, where one tiny change can completely alter what happens next. Franka Potente is unforgettable as Lola in this stylish, frantic late-90s classic.

I revisit Sam Peckinpah’s Convoy — big trucks, big destruction, C.W. McCall and Kris Kristofferson in peak 1978 mode. A film that’s not quite The Wild Bunch , but still a pretty damn good time.

I revisit Damage, Louis Malle’s deeply uncomfortable drama about obsession, desire and the devastating consequences of crossing a line you can’t uncross. Jeremy Irons, Juliette Binoche and Miranda Richardson deliver extraordinary performances in a film that refuses to make any of it easy.

I revisit Patton , a massive World War II film with huge battle scenes, incredible performances and George C. Scott basically chewing through the scenery. Nearly three hours, but I never felt the length — just a great big piece of filmmaking.

I revisit François Ozon’s Under the Sand , a quietly unsettling drama about grief, denial and the disappearance of someone you love. Charlotte Rampling is superb as a woman struggling to accept what has happened.

I revisit Sam Raimi’s The Evil Dead , the 1981 horror film that unleashed ancient Demons, possessed friends and some very inventive — and often gruesome — ways to kill them. I look at Raimi’s energetic filmmaking, Bruce Campbell’s Ash, the memorable tree attack and the film’s mix of horror, gore and dark humour.

I came back to The Fly after about 30 years remembering that it was pretty freaky. I didn’t remember that it was this good — or that I’d spend half the film wondering how Jeff Goldblum and Geena Davis got away with being that attractive.

A stylish 1956 crime film set among the streets, characters and smoky atmosphere of old Paris. A beautifully shot, cynical heist story with gamblers, safecrackers and one very memorable trip to the casino.

I revisit Ken Loach’s Poor Cow , a remarkably honest and gritty look at working-class London and one woman simply trying to get through life. Carol White is terrific, and there’s something fascinating about how Loach captures a world that has almost completely disappeared.

I revisit Dirty Harry , one of those films I’ve always known was a classic without ever really asking myself why. Clint Eastwood, Andrew Robinson, a very dirty San Francisco — and a cop who doesn’t have much time for the rules.

I revisit Antonioni’s L’Avventura , a film where seemingly nothing happens, yet somehow I was completely captivated for 143 minutes. And then there’s Monica Vitti — mesmerising, mysterious and almost impossible to take your eyes off.

A provocative Australian thriller that takes me back to the Sydney of 1982. With Judy Davis, a terrific Australian cast and a city that feels like a character in its own right, it’s as much a fascinating time capsule of Australia as it is a thriller.

A glamorous, twisted and surprisingly emotional Almodóvar ride where family, guilt, sex and murder collide.

A solid 1978 conspiracy thriller with a brilliant premise, great suspense and plenty of 70s paranoia. It’s a little overlong and a few plot points require some forgiveness, but there’s plenty here to keep you entertained.

I revisit Ridley Scott’s slick, atmospheric late-’80s thriller where Michael Douglas, Andy Garcia and Ken Takakura collide with Tokyo, the Yakuza and each other.

I revisit Martin Scorsese’s The King of Comedy , a brilliantly dark and funny film about ambition, obsession and one man who simply cannot read the room.

I revisit Easy Rider and finally understand the film that completely lost me when I was 17. The music, the motorcycles, the counterculture and that devastating ending all hit very differently 35 years later.

I revisit Raise the Red Lantern , a film I remembered loving in the 1990s and now realise, 30 years later, is an absolute masterpiece.

45 years after seeing The Empire Strikes Back at seven years old, I revisit one of the biggest films of my childhood — and discover that while some of the magic has faded, Han Solo, Vader, the Millennium Falcon and John Williams still hit the spot.

I went back to a VHS favourite from 1988 and found a film that’s still intriguing, uncomfortable and well acted — but nowhere near as good as I remembered.

A grimy, stylish ’80s crime thriller I somehow missed the first time around — and the perfect Friday-night film to watch with a beer in your hand.

Revisiting Nineteen Eighty-Four at 53, I found John Hurt brilliant and Orwell’s world as bleak as ever, but maybe I’ve seen too much to be shocked by this nightmare in quite the same way anymore.

I can appreciate the madness of Herzog’s achievement, but after 90 minutes of drifting down the Amazon, I still couldn’t work out what everyone else seems to love about this film.