Film

Rental Family

18/01/26

Cineworld, Edinburgh

This whimsical, Japanese-set film was previously the subject of Oscar buzz, but seems to have slipped quietly out of contention. It’s a charming and affecting tale and, if there’s a danger of it occasionally straying towards ‘White Saviour’ territory, writer/director Hikari mostly manages to keep everything just the right side of the line.

Phillip Vanderploeg (Bendan Fraser) is an American actor, currently in his seventh year of residence in Tokyo. The former star of a successful toothpaste commercial, he’s now grimly attending auditions for proper acting roles without much success. When his agent sends him along to a job as an extra, he’s bewildered to find that he’d been cast as a mourner at a funeral – and that the man in the coffin is still alive. Afterwards, he meets Shinji (Takahiro Hira), who runs the company, Rental Family. They specialise in providing actors who can play stand-in family members or friends for lonely strangers (and, before you raise your eyebrows, let me assure you that agencies like this are long-established in Japan). Shinjo tells Phillip that he’s been looking for a token white guy. Would he be interested in signing up?

Pretty soon, Phillip’s finding regular work with the agency. He plays a stand-in straight husband for a woman who is secretly gay, but wants to give her parents the conventional wedding experience they expect. He is hired to ‘interview’ elderly film director, Kikuo Hasegawa (Akira Emoto), once much revered by the industry but now slipping into the realms of dementia. And he is asked to play the absent father of Mia (Shannon Mahina Gorman), a young half-Japanese girl whose mother wants her to attend an elite high school and needs to have a visible father-figure in attendance in order to improve her chances.

Inevitably, Phillip finds himself becoming emotionally involved with the people he works with, even though Shinji keeps warning him to stay detached from his clients…

Rental Family hits plenty of pleasing notes as the story unfolds, and its depiction of Japan is exuberant and colourful, making me wish I could experience it for myself. There’s some barbed criticism of one aspect of the agency’s services – the supplying of stand-in ‘mistresses’ for aggrieved wives to vent their anger on – but again, this is something that genuinely happens.

Fraser handles the role of Phillip with his customary skill, managing to convey a whole variety of emotions with little more than a grimace or a smile. I do however find myself unconvinced by one decision he makes concerning Kikuo – would anyone of his maturity act so rashly? But his interplay with Mia is nicely judged and there are moments here that have me wishing I’d come armed with a handkerchief. There’s also a late-stage revelation concerning one of Phillip’s co-workers that really does take me utterly by surprise.

Overall, Rental Family makes for enjoyable viewing. But be warned: one scene where Phillip and Kikuo share a delicious-looking meal in a tiny barbecue restaurant may have you leaving the cinema feeling absolutely ravenous.

3.8 stars

Philip Caveney

28 Years Later: The Bone Temple

15/01/2026

Cineworld, Edinburgh

The ’28 Years’ trilogy moves confidently into its second act, with Danny Boyle handing the directorial reins to Nia DaCosta. She rises to the challenge with her customary zeal and delivers a film that, for my money, comes close to equalling its predecessor. This time out there’s less emphasis on the blood and mayhem and more on the interplay between characters. Gore-hounds may complain they’ve been short-changed but, ironically, there’s still enough spine-ripping and brain-munching to ensure that this episode earns itself an 18 certificate. Young actor Alfie Williams is, once again, unable to officially attend the film’s premiere. (He was thirteen for the last one’s 15 classification.)

Did he get a private viewing? I hope so.

We pick up pretty much where we left off with Alfie (Williams) now a captive of ‘The Jimmys,’ the track-suited, blonde-bewigged followers of Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal (a malevolent Jack O’Connell, sporting a pretty convincing Scottish accent). Alfie soon learns that, if he wishes to remain alive, he’s going to have to fight for his place in the gang and, once a member, somehow embrace the heinous cruelty that Crystal likes to inflict on anyone he encounters – including, if the mood takes him, his own followers. Luckily, one of the gang, Jimmy Ink (Erin Kellyman), seems to have taken a sisterly shine to Alfie.

Meanwhile, Dr Ian Kelson (Ralph Fiennes) continues his gruesome work in the titular temple, with particular emphasis on trying to develop his growing ‘friendship’ with Samson (Chi Lewis-Parry), an infected Alpha. Kelson is attempting to tame the angry giant with regular doses of morphine, applied via a strategically-aimed blowpipe. Could it be that these experiments are leading Kelson tantalisingly closer to finding a cure for the deadly infection that has overtaken the world? More bafflingly, why is he listening to so much Duran Duran?

If the two main story strands are frankly bonkers, they nonetheless make for riveting viewing. DaCosta’s strong visual style combines with Alex Garland’s storytelling and the powerful music of Hildur Guǒnadóttir, to exert an almost hypnotic spell. There are kinetic action sequences, some astutely-handled flashbacks (Samson’s recollections of a childhood experience on a crowded train is particularly powerful), and Fiennes’ outrageous climactic dance routine, backed by Iron Maiden’s The Number of the Beast, is something I never expected to see – a slice of pure theatre writ large on a cinema screen. I also respond strongly to the film’s obsession with religion and the way that Kelson cleverly uses it to his own advantage.

And then, just when you think it’s all over, we’re treated to a short coda which neatly flips the whole concept back to its origins and reintroduces a character I had pretty much given up hope of ever seeing again – all of which ensures that I leave the cinema already looking forward to part three.

Job done. Bring it on.

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney

Labyrinth

11/01/26

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Forty? Can it really be forty years since I went into a cinema to watch Jim Henson’s Labyrinth for the first time? Well, this being the 40th Anniversary re-release in a brand new 4K restoration, I guess it must be so. Back in 1986, I was certainly a David Bowie fan and The Muppet Show was a regular treat every Sunday, so naturally I was first in the queue to see it, though the mists of time have managed to erase which particular cinema the event took place in.

I can only recall that I enjoyed the experience, even if the particulars of the film itself remain hazy. So here’s my chance to clarify matters. Glancing around the busy auditorium, it’s clear I’m not the only one revisiting the past.

Sixteen-year-old Sarah Williams (Jennifer Connelly) is running late for the task of babysitting her infant half-brother, Toby. When she arrives, rushed and apologetic, her step-mother, Irene (Shelley Thompson), is angry and unforgiving. When Sarah discovers that Irene has given Sarah’s beloved teddy bear, Lancelot, to her brother, it’s the last straw. She impulsively wishes aloud that Toby could be abducted – by goblins from the titular book she’s just been reading.

Whereupon the Goblin King, Jareth (David Bowie), grants Sarah’s wish and tells her that, in exchange for Toby, he will give her her deepest desires. When she decides she’s acted too rashly, Jareth sets her a challenge: she has just thirteen hours in which to rescue the child. If she fails Toby will belong to Jareth forever. So Sarah has little option but to set off into the labyrinth which lies between her and Jareth’s castle. On the way, she enlists help from some of the strange creatures she encounters.

Henson’s film divided the critics on its release. It had poor box office in America but was a palpable hit in the UK, where audiences had more of a taste for the weird. And make no mistake, Labyrinth is weird in the truest sense of the word. Scripted by Monty Python-stalwart Terry Jones, it’s heavily influenced by Maurice Sendak’s Outside Over There (which also features a child kidnapped by goblins). And isn’t there a bit of The Wizard of Oz about it? A teenage girl accompanied by three fantastical companions, each of whom will learn something on the journey? Hmm.

The film’s look is largely due to the influence of illustrator Brian Froud – every frame look like one of his gorgeous picture books. Lest we forget, there was no CGI in those pre-Jurassic Park days, so Henson is called upon to push the practical puppetry to its very limits, his team dreaming up incredible creations and building them from whatever they could lay their hands on.

Bowie fits effortlessly into this world, sporting an outlandish fright-wig, some very tight trousers and a bizarre accent, which sounds like somebody mangling RP to within an inch of its life. Whatever it is, it works. He also sings a few self-composed songs along the way, none of which is particularly memorable, but are perfectly suitable for the capering, twitching creatures that back him up.

A sequence towards the end of the film in which Sarah pursues Toby up, down and under a series of MC Escher-style staircases provides a suitably mind-blowing finale. Forty years may have passed since its creation, but Labyrinth has aged well and it serves to provide a fitting tribute to the late Jim Henson, a man who devoted his life to creating magic.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

Left-Handed Girl

11/01/26

Netflix

I’m feeling a bit sorry for myself this Sunday afternoon: I didn’t sleep well last night, I’ve got a cold and the temperature outside is bloody freezing. We’d planned a long walk but I’m not up for it. Is there anything good on Netflix that we haven’t seen?

Philip’s right on it: yes, there is. He’s just been reading about Left-Handed Girl, written by Shih-Ching Tsou and Sean Baker (the latter a firm favourite of ours), which has not only created a buzz at Cannes, but has also been chosen as Taiwan’s Oscar entry. Apparently, the long-time collaborators penned the script way back in 2010 but it’s taken until now for director Tsou to secure the financing for her debut feature. However frustrating that must have been for her, it’s certainly worth the wait. Because Left-Handed Girl is a triumph.

The film follows the travails of the Cheng family as they return to the bustling capital of Taipei after several years living in the Taiwanese countryside. Single mum Shu-Fen (Janel Tsai) is struggling financially, and she’s hoping to get back on track by opening a noodle stall in the city’s famous night market.

Her teenage daughter, I-Ann (Shih-Yuan Ma) is moody and miserable. She’s left school to work at a betel nut stall, where she’s shagging the boss with the same lack of enthusiasm she brings to her job. Something’s troubling her, and the mystery only deepens when she bumps into an old classmate, who expresses surprise that the former straight-A student is not at university…

Meanwhile, Shu-Fen’s youngest daughter, the titular five-year-old southpaw, I-Jing (Nina Ye), is settling happily into her new life, charming the market traders as she smiles and dances through the stalls. She hasn’t a care in the world – until her granddad (Akio Chen) admonishes her for using her left hand to draw. “It’s the devil’s hand,” he tells her, as she stares in awe at the offending appendage. Although the superstitious old man’s intention is to get I-Jing to start using her right hand, his plan has unforetold consequences as, unwittingly, he has given her a pass to be naughty. “It’s not me,” she tells herself as she steals a trinket from a shop, “I can’t help it; it’s my devil hand.”

Cinematographers Ko-Chin Chen and Tzu-Hao Kao shot the entire movie on iPhones, which lends the piece a convincing veritas, thanks to the agility and immediacy of the footage. We see the market from I-Jing’s point of view, eye-level with the traders’ tables as we run with her between the stalls, ducking through the crowds. We ride with I-Ann on her scooter, hair streaming in the night air, precious minutes of freedom between her household duties and her boss’s demands. Taipei comes to life on screen, a kaleidoscopic riot of colour and sound.

Under Tsou’s direction, this collection of moments slowly takes shape. We learn to care for not only the three main characters, but also those on the periphery, such as Johnny (Brando Huang), the kindly trader with the stall next-door to Shu-Fen’s. These are people on the edges of society, only barely getting by, but they are all afforded their dignity. And, as the various vignettes coalesce, a story emerges – with a pretty explosive denouement.

Film-wise, 2026 has started off in great style, with Left-Handed Girl our third five-star cinematic experience in just eleven days. Long may it continue!

5 stars

Susan Singfield

Goodbye June

08/01/26

Netflix

Amidst the roster of Christmas-themed films that we failed to see over the festive season, Goodbye June shines – at least in its earlier stages – with an unflinching sense of realism. It’s centred around a tragedy, the kind of experience that so many viewers will be familiar with, and – as the name suggests – depicts the actions of a family bidding farewell to their resident matriarch.

It’s just a couple of weeks before 25th December when June (Helen Mirren) collapses whilst making the morning cuppa. She’s rushed to hospital where it’s quickly established that the cancer she’s been suffering from for quite some time has progressed to the stage where further treatment would be pointless. All the hospital staff can do is make her comfortable until the end arrives. This news comes as no great surprise to her husband, Bernie (Timothy Spall), her three daughters, Julia (Kate Winslet), Molly (Andrea Riseborough) and Helen (Toni Collette), and her son, Connor (Johnny Flynn).

They have no option but to hunker down and show what support they can until the dreaded day finally dawns. But can June make it to Christmas?

It doesn’t help matters that Bernie seems barely able to register any kind of reaction to what’s happening to his wife; that Julia and Molly are incapable of burying a long-brandished hatchet; that Helen is lost in some kind of hippy-dippy alternative reality; and that the vulnerable Connor simply cannot envisage a life without his adored mum to hold his hand. Throw into the equation a bunch of bewildered spouses and offspring of various ages and it soon becomes clear this isn’t going to be a tranquil farewell.

For her directorial debut, Winslet has managed to enlist an incredibly starry cast, while her son, Joe Anders, provides the screenplay. For the most part, the story brims with absolute authenticity – though Molly’s rudeness to every member of staff unlucky enough to cross her path occasionally feels a little too on the nose. Would anyone in this situation actually react with such unbridled vitriol?

And a late-stage development where the entire family works together to put on an impromptu Nativity play for June’s benefit also ignites my incredulity, with Bernie’s sudden transformation into the life and soul of the party particularly implausible. This kind of sudden about-turn weakens that sense of veracity.

But perhaps I’m being a bit of a Scrooge about this. Goodbye June is a sizeable step-up from much of the twinkly, feel-good fodder we’ve come to expect at this time of year – and the addition of a short coda set the following year at least offers us a chance to dry our tears before the end credits.

3.8 stars

Philip Caveney

Train Dreams

03/01/26

Netflix

Adapted from Denis Johnson’s 2011 novella of the same name, Clint Bentley’s Train Dreams is set in the Pacific Northwest during the first half of the last century. More character study than story, this beautifully-contrived film proves a difficult watch.

Idaho orphan Robert Grainier (Joel Edgerton) is born in poverty, destined to a hard-scrabble life. An itinerant worker, he toils uncomplainingly, felling trees to make way for the expansion of the American railroads. He is watchful and taciturn, but nonetheless forms strong bonds with his fellow loggers. These include Arn Peeples (William H Macy), a sagacious old man concerned about deforestation, and Fu Sheng (Alfred Hsing), shockingly murdered in a racist attack by his colleagues – while Robert silently looks on.

The only glimmer of cheer in Robert’s life is Gladys (Felicity Jones). For a brief period, they enjoy a happy marriage, buying an acre of land, building a cabin, having a baby. But they’re poor, and Robert’s work takes him away from home, so he’s not with Gladys when a forest fire sweeps the region, taking everything – and everyone – he cares about.

From hereon in, Robert becomes even more introverted. It’s as if he’s frozen in time, living hermit-like in his rebuilt cabin, haunted by dreams, flashbacks and premonitions. His occasional brushes with the outside world are jarring: the twentieth century’s brash progression at odds with his pioneer lifestyle. While he’s stuck in the past, stubbornly homesteading, other people are buying motor cars, going to the cinema, landing on the moon.

Edgerton’s performance is undeniably impressive, albeit in an understated, muted way. Here is a man who expects hardship and bears his pain in silence – all of which Edgerton communicates effectively through very little dialogue. Adolpho Veloso’s cinematography is admirable too: the Washington vistas are both beautiful and bleak, the perfect backdrop to Grainier’s grief.

But this is a depressing piece of cinema, with barely any lighter moments to alleviate the misery: no redemption; no hope. It’s clever and moving and has excited much interest from the Awards Academy – but it’s not an enjoyable ride.

3.6 stars

Susan Singfield

Song Sung Blue

02/01/26

Cineworld, Edinburgh

It’s a fact universally acknowledged that the most unlikely film plots are those based on true stories. Take the tale of Mike and Claire Sardina for example, whose adventures have already made it to the screen in Greg Kohs’ 2008 documentary (also called Song Sung Blue). Writer/director Craig Brewer spotted its potential as a feature film and has adapted it into a heartwarming – and occasionally heartbreaking – feature. And should some of the events portrayed here raise your eyebrows, well, it only takes a quick Google search to establish that all this really did happen.

We first meet Mike Sardina (Hugh Jackman) in the early noughties as he performs an appealing song and chat routine… at his local AA meeting. He’s not had a drink for twenty years, but still considers himself an alcoholic. Divorced from his wife, he plies a precarious trade as a mechanic and makes a few dollars on the side performing songs in tribute acts to various rock stars – though he resists a powerful impulse to impersonate his idol, Neil Diamond, whom he feels he could never do justice to.

At a tribute night organised by his Buddy Holly-worshipping pal, Mark (Michael Imperioli), Mike sets eyes upon Claire (Kate Hudson), who is performing as Patsy Kline and there’s an immediate attraction between them. It isn’t long before they are dating and Claire soon persuades Mike to pursue those Neil Diamond ambitions, offering backing vocals and keyboards in support. Very soon after that, the two of them are married and their act, Lightning and Thunder, is having a lot of success in their native Milwaukee. But as their musical career soars like a meteor, something darker is waiting in the wings…

Song Sung Blue is an appealing story that easily sweeps me up and keeps me hooked throughout. It could so easily be unbearably mawkish but Brewer handles the material with great skill, so that what comes through is a genuine warmth and a sense of community, particularly from the various other tribute acts, who work alongside the central duo to ensure their success. Of course, it’s no surprise that Jackman can sing up a storm but Hudson is something of a revelation in this department, her distinctive, slightly husky vocals nailing every song with aplomb.

It’s lovely to watch the couple’s relationship enduring through the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and there’s also a winning sub plot in which Claire’s daughter, Rachel (Ella Anderson) and Mike’s daughter, Angelina (King Princess), develop a supportive friendship. Claire’s young son, Dana (Hudson Hensley), also makes a big impression simply by expressing open enthusiasm for everything his parents do and documenting much of what happens on his video camera.

If the first half is mostly joyful stuff, the second moves ever deeper into tragedy and I spend the latter stages of Song Sung Blue dreading what fresh disaster is going to assail the Sardinas next. I’m not ashamed to say that I watch some of the film’s scenes through a fog of tears.

And for those of you wondering, ‘Do I have to be a Neil Diamond fan to appreciate this?’ I can only point out that I would never class myself as a devotee, but I still have a lovely time with the film. And I come out singing Sweet Caroline.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

Marty Supreme

01/01/2026

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Our first film of 2026 was supposed to be our last film of 2025. But we were in North Wales where, for some inexplicable reason, Marty Supreme simply wasn’t yet available in cinemas and we were obliged to watch The Housemaid instead. So obviously, when it came time to start the process anew, there was only one logical choice.

It’s clear from the opening scenes that Josh Safdie’s frenetic odyssey about ambitious young table tennis player, Marty Mauser (Timothée Chalamet), is going to be something very special. The titular character is loosely based on a real-life ping pong star, the late Marty Reisman – though whether the man who inspired this story was the swaggering, single-minded, motor-mouthed huckster portrayed here is up for debate. 

Certainly, many of the incidents portrayed in the script – co-written by Safdie and Ronald Bronstein – echo real life events, though the filmmakers are quick to point out that it’s all fictional.

When we first encounter Marty, he’s grudgingly working at his Uncle Murray’s shoe shop in New York City. This is solely to fund his upcoming journey to England, where he’ll be competing in the 1952 World Table Tennis Championship. He’s also enjoying a clandestine affair with Rachel (Odessa A’zion), an unhappily-married woman who works in the shop next door, and whom Marty soon manages to impregnate. In fact, we actually witness this biological process over the film’s opening credits.

Once at the championships, Marty hooks up with former movie actress, Kay Stone (Gwyneth Paltrow). He sees her as a possible source of funding for his future endeavours and, after a swift telephone seduction, he enjoys a quick dalliance with her. Her husband is wealthy industrialist Milton Rockwell (Kevin O’ Leary), a manufacturer of fountain pens.

Meanwhile, as the ping pong tournament progresses, Marty easily vanquishes all the opposing players until, in the final, he’s matched against Japanese player, Koto Endo (Koto Kawaguchi). The newcomer’s idiosyncratic style of play utterly throws Marty. He loses the match and is obliged to return to America humiliated – but his determination to win turns into an overwhelming obsession…

To label Marty Supreme as ‘a film about table tennis’ would be something of an understatement. Yes, it is that – and the many sequences that depict the sport are undeniably gripping – but it’s also a multi-faceted examination of ambition, greed and the almost pathological need to win at all costs. Chalamet has always been an accomplished actor but here he delivers a performance of such staggering intensity, it just might be the one that finally steers him in the direction of that coveted Oscar podium.

I also want to mention production designer Jack Fisk, who came out of retirement for this film, and captures the dark squalor of 1950s America with exceptional skill. A technical Oscar for his work would also seem a likely fit.

As for the director, anyone who saw Uncut Gems – which Safdie co-directed with his brother, Benny – will know that he has a penchant for ramping up anxiety to almost unbearable levels. That quality is certainly very much in evidence here as the film careers from one stress-inducing set piece to the next, barely allowing me time to draw breath. The movie is also packed with legions of oddball characters who surge onto the screen, capture my interest and just as swiftly vanish. The film is sometimes weird, occasionally startling and always heart-stoppingly brilliant.

If the self-aggrandising Marty isn’t the kind of character who usually inspires a viewer’s allegiance (he’s self-centred and utterly convinced of his own talent), Safdie is wise enough to surround him with even more despicable people, chief among them oily fat-cat Rockwell, who, at one point, takes the greatest pleasure in humiliating Marty for the entertainment of his friends. The result is that I’m always rooting for our antihero, even when I’m horrified at the depths he’s prepared to sink to.

This is quite simply a gobsmacking film – and I have no doubts whatsoever that it’s destined to feature in our ‘best of’ list for 2026. Make sure you catch it where it belongs, on the biggest screen you can find.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Film Bouquets 2025

2025 has been a rewarding year for cinema-goers, with enough great movies to make it especially difficult to narrow our list down to just twelve favourites. But here they are in the order that we watched them. As ever, we invite you to pitch in with your comments.

Better Man

“A fabulous piece of filmmaking that effortlessly oversteps the relative simplicity of its subject to create something genuinely spectacular…”

The Brutalist

“Has plenty to say about the creative process and nails perfectly the powerful seduction that success offers to any artist – the fateful allure of patronage and its unpalatable compromises.”

Flow

“The word ‘masterpiece’ is overused but this groundbreaking animation by Latvian director Glints Zilbalodis is so accomplished, it’s all too easy to see why it was handed an Oscar.

Hallow Road

“Hallow Road ticks all the boxes, amping up the suspense with every passing mile, until I am almost breathless with anxiety…”

28 Years Later

“There are elements of folk horror woven into the script and the eerie atmosphere is beautifully accentuated by the music of the Young Fathers and the use of an old recording of Rudyard Kipling’s militaristic poem, Boots…”

The Ballad of Wallis Island

“A warm, gentle hug of a film, one that takes a long look at the subject of relationships and the many ways in which memories can still affect people long after an initial attraction has gone…”

Weapons

“An absolute smorgasbord of delights, by turns poignant, tense, bloody and, in its later stretches, darkly comic…”

Frankenstein

“Packed with sumptuous locations and thrilling action set-pieces, that have it hurtling through its lengthy running time…”

One Battle After Another

“Even the car chase is given a mesmerising makeover, as vehicles glide silently through a shimmering waterfall of desert roads like some kind of LSD-induced hallucination…”

Sorry, Baby

“Film-making of the highest order, assured and nuanced, highlighting the myriad moments that mark Agnes’s darkest hours as well as their recovery…”

Die, My Love

“This unflinching study of a woman’s postpartum psychological breakdown is as compelling as it is harrowing – and Jennifer Lawrence is frankly wonderful in the lead role…”

Bugonia

“The film’s true triumph is only revealed in a final extended sequence, where Lanthimos brings all the different strands of the story together to create a shattering, thought-provoking conclusion…”

Philip Caveney & Susan Singfield

Sunset Boulevard

21/12/25

Filmhouse, Edinburgh

Hard on the heels of seeing one Billy Wilder masterpiece, The Apartment, comes an opportunity to see another, his 1950 film, Sunset Boulevard. I’m eager to watch it, as I haven’t seen it since I viewed it on TV in my youth. Whereas The Apartment looks forward to the new permissive era of the 1960s, this one takes its inspiration from the movies of the silent years, and the vast sea-changes that came in 1927, when Al Jolson became the first actor to talk onscreen in The Jazz Singer.

While the silent era has been revisited in a more lighthearted manner in movies like Singin’ in the Rain, Wilder casts a more meditative light on the previously-bankable stars suddenly left stranded by arrival of the talkies.

The movie is narrated by Joe Gillis (William Holden), a once promising young screenwriter, now struggling to make his way in the highly-competitive world of 50s Hollywood and quickly running out of options. Trying to evade some guys who are attempting to repossess his car, he pulls into the garage of a crumbling Hollywood mansion, assuming that the place is abandoned. But here he meets up with faded silent-movie megastar, Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson) and her devoted butler, Max (Erich Von Stroheim). When Norma learns that Joe is a writer, she immediately invites him to stay in the guest room, telling him that she’s working on a screenplay of Salome, which she plans to star in when she makes her “return” (for some reason, she hates the term “comeback”). Joe realises she hasn’t a hope in hell of getting the movie financed, but he needs somewhere to kick his heels, so he reluctantly takes her up on her offer and agrees to help her write the script.

But as the days pass, he becomes her constant companion, and he starts to appreciate the full depths of her obsession – and realises that walking away from this situation isn’t going to be as straightforward as he initially supposed…

Of course, Wilder is writing about the same studio system that he himself progressed through, and his sharp, witty screenplay (co-written with Charles Brackett and DM Marshman Jnr) has about it the utter veracity of lived experience. Swanson had actually been a silent-movie star back in the day and exerts an extraordinary screen presence, portraying her possessive, vulnerable and ultimately-tragic character with consummate skill. Von Stroheim, meanwhile, was himself an influential director of silent films. There are also cameos from other real stars, like Cecil B DeMille and (very briefly) Buster Keaton. Holden, of course, is just embarking on his own long and monumental screen career and he makes the perfect foil, calm and measured despite all the madness that surrounds him.

The film’s final scene is one of the most enduring in movie history, as Norma Desmond takes her final prowl down a staircase for the camera and prepares for her close-up, so caught up in her own fantasy, that all the surrounding cops and news reporters somehow become her acolytes.

Sometimes, you return to a classic film after a long absence and wonder what all the fuss was about. But Sunset Boulevard is still a powerful and bitterly-spiced cinematic confection, as fresh and hard-hitting as it was all those years ago – and I feel privileged to have the opportunity to see it on the big screen.

5 stars

Philip Caveney