Deborah Ross

The Ghost 15, Nationwide Cemetery Junction 15, Nationwide The Ghost is Roman Polanski’s adaptation of Robert Harris’s best-selling political thriller, and while it’s probably tosh, it is top-notch, classy tosh of the most satisfying kind: taut, neatly plotted, atmospheric and exceedingly well acted. Pierce Brosnan even puts some effort in, for once — well done, Pierce! It wasn’t so bad, was it? — and Kim Cattrall is so goddamn ripe and juicy and sexy even I wanted to sleep with her, and I’m a straight woman. (Yes, yes, I do have a bit of a moustache, but it’s a red herring; it’s just one of those things that happen with age, like the tone in your upper arms going.

The Scouting Book for Boys 15, Key Cities This week, I should probably have seen Old Dogs starring John Travolta and Robin Williams as ‘two best friends who have their lives turned upside down when they’re unexpectedly charged with the care of six-year-old twins’ but I saw the trailer on TV and couldn’t do it. I felt repelled. I felt repelled even though I knew it would be a bad film and bad films make for good, easy copy. Copy-wise, bad films are like stealing candy from a baby, which is as easy as everyone says it is. In fact, I’ve recently stolen so much candy from babies that I now have enough to last months. Generally, I blame the parents. Knowing how easy it is to steal this candy — heck, there is even a common expression that says as much!

Alice in Wonderland PG, Nationwide Tim Burton’s Alice In Wonderland is kind of a joy but it is not a fully-fledged joy, hence the ‘kind of’, in case you were wondering. Mixing live action with CGI, it is sensationally gorgeous to look at — beautiful! Ravishing! Dazzling! — and it does have its wonderfully inventive moments but I was not transported. I wanted to be transported, I longed to be transported. I thought: never mind ‘eat me’, never mind ‘drink me’ just transport me, but it did not happen. I accept it may be my limitation. I never enjoyed Lewis Carroll’s Alice books as a child: a rather dull girl; a succession of weirdos; no proper narrative, and creepy, creepy, creepy.

Crazy Heart 15, Nationwide Crazy Heart is the film in which Jeff Bridges plays a broken-down, washed-up, boozy country music singer who may or may not be saved by the love of a good woman (Maggie Gyllenhaal) and while I wanted to love this film, and strived to love this film, and hadn’t really contemplated not loving this film — Jeff Bridges; romance; redemption; what’s not to love? — it just didn’t happen. Both Bridges and Gyllenhaal have been Oscar-nominated for their performances, which may prompt you to see it, and while I wouldn’t exactly wish to talk you out of that decision, and can’t be bothered anyhow, you should probably know that their performances are much, much better than this film deserves.

A Single Man Nationwide, 12A A Single Man is noted fashion designer Tom Ford’s debut feature film and while it is distractingly over-designed — every table lamp looks as if it had its own personal stylist — it is also a true and proper account of bereavement, grief, loss and loneliness. I can see I haven’t made it sound like a fun-packed, feel-good night at the cinema, and it isn’t, but its depth of feeling is so powerful and commanding it’s almost bruising. Heavens, I’ve made it sound even less fun now. You know, this is a hard film to recommend, because it’s so sad, and a hard film to not recommend, because it’s so good about what it is like to be so sad.

Up in the Air 15, Nationwide 44 Inch Chest 18, Nationwide Up in the Air is gorgeous and wondrous and intelligent and elegant and freshly funny and moving and exquisitely constructed and I beseech you to get off your sofa and go see it. I am so serious about this I will not only say it all over, I will say it all over in capitals followed by nine exclamation marks: GO SEE IT!!!!!!!!! Now, what more do you want me to do? Carry you to the cinema? Don’t be silly. But I will give you four more exclamation marks, a chevron and two pound signs: !!!!^££. More than this I cannot do.

The Road 15, nationwide The Road is based on Cormac McCarthy’s post-apocalyptic novel and, as far as roads go, this one is long, hard, brutal, pitiless and profoundly horrible, plus there doesn’t seem to be much reward for sticking with it. It is very much like the North Circular in all these respects, unless you count finally getting to Ikea as a reward, which no one in their right mind would. ‘The horror, the horror,’ as Joseph Conrad would surely have said, if he’d found himself in Ikea on a Saturday afternoon. He might also have added: ‘And the meatballs are rubbish,’ but we’ll just never really know. But here? With this road?

Nowhere Boy 15, Nationwide from 26 December Firstly, the year in review — it was good, thanks — and now on to Nowhere Boy, the surprisingly conventional first feature-length film from visual artist Sam Taylor Wood. It is perfectly accomplished, and pleasing enough, but it’s not going to blow your socks off, even though the combination of Ms Taylor Wood and such a compelling story would give you every reason to think it might. That said, having your socks blown off is rather overrated. Or, as one man told me, ‘My socks blew off in 1976 and I’ve yet to find them. They were nice socks, too.’ So there is something to be said for not having your socks blown off, I suppose. The story?

Where the Wild Things Are PG, Nationwide Here is what you most need to know about this film: it isn’t a patch on the book. Usually, I wouldn’t put it like that. Indeed, as I have said before, and wouldn’t need to say again if only I could trust you had paid attention the first time, a film should stand or fall on its own merits, regardless of the source material, but I can’t seem to let it go with this one. Perhaps it’s because I’m just too close to this particular book. I grew up on Maurice Sendak’s Where the Wild Things Are, which was first published in 1963, as did my own son, who insisted I read it to him nightly for about a year. I didn’t mind.

Me and Orson Welles 12A, Nationwide For a film about drama, Me and Orson Welles — Orson Welles and I? Do we care? — is obstinately undramatic. I kept trying to will it into some kind of life, any kind of life. Come on. You can do it. Think of the children! But it would not be roused. It just plodded on, drearily and leadenly, for the full 114 minutes, like I had nothing better to do, which I didn’t, but that’s not the point. Based on true events, it follows the 22-year-old Welles as he mounts his ground-breaking New York 1937 production of Julius Caesar, but as a film about a famous play it has none of the pizzazz, wit, or invention of, say, a Shakespeare in Love. That, though, did have a script souped up by Tom Stoppard. Tom Stoppard.

Paranormal Activity 15, Nationwide Paranormal Activity is the horror film which was made for $30,000 and has since gone on to earn $240 million at the box office globally. This is astonishing, just as the size of horror audiences always astonishes me. Who are these people who enjoy being scared to death, and consider it a good night out? I don’t. Indeed, as I said to the critic who initially sat next to me at the screening, ‘I should warn you, I’m not very good at this sort of thing and I may well jump into your lap.’ At this point, he promptly got up and moved. I was, yes, minded to call out after him, ‘And you are no great shakes yourself...Robert!’, but, of course, did not have the courage. This is how fearful I am.