The Robe (1953)

The first feature film released in the CinemaScope format, The Robe is a biblical epic with suitably lavish sets and a story that, for the most part, feels like it deserves the extra expense. Besides a few blundering emotional scenes, that are as much a failing of the script as they are of Richard Burton's delivery, it's a compelling story of a Roman Tribune who's sent to Jerusalem as a punishment at a time that just happens to coincide with the arrival of a certain carpenter from Galilee. Accompanying the Tribune is a slave, a Greek man named Demetrius (Victor Mature), a person of principles and honour.
Initially concerned with themes of rivalry and a brazen dislike of Imperial rule, it develops into something more personal, triggered by a momentous event.
The closing scene is pretty terrible, but by then its proved itself worthy.

4 binding measures out of 5

Nineteen Eighty-Four (1984)

aka 1984

Dir. Michael Radford's adaptation of George Orwell's groundbreaking novel of the same name is as much an exploration of state control as it is of one man's struggle to make sense of his role within the totalitarian regime, a leadership that strives to destroy individualism, even going so far as to remove from the language the means to express distrust in the ruling party.
Much of the colour is drained from it, effectively communicating the dreariness of protagonist Winston Smith's existence; the carefully placed scenes of full colour add a contrast that runs deeper than just aesthetics.
The principals (John Hurt, Suzanna Hamilton, Richard Burton) are excellent, keeping what's necessary firmly understated but relevant at all times.

4 dictionary revisions out of 5

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966)

Woolf was Dir. Nichols' first feature film, which is a hell of a thing to have on your CV. Adapted from Edward Albee's stage play it's an intimate portrait of a middle aged husband and wife, George and Martha (Burton and Taylor), who've been married too long and wilfully consume too much alcohol, a combination that results in a frequent battle of wills, savage one-upmanship, hurtful sarcasm, insults and straightforward spiteful comments, much of which is blackly humorous. The duo are visited late one night by a younger couple and so begins an airing of dirty laundry that's as compelling as it is shocking. The big names are predictably great, but Sandy Dennis is equally fantastic.

4 exercised wits out of 5

The Longest Day (1962)

It's somewhat fitting that a film titled The Longest Day should have a long running time. And while its 178 minutes don't exactly fly by, because a great many tiny dramas exist within the larger one (i.e. the World War II D-Day landings at Normandy in June, 1944) it rarely drags its heels.
Also noteworthy is the cast. It's packed with famous faces but many have little more than a cameo role. The closest it has to a leading man is either John Wayne or Robert Mitchum, but even they feature only occasionally because the binding thread is the event itself, not any one person or squad. That means we get scenes not just from the Allied side but the French and German sides, too, and in each case it's in the nation's native tongue, like it ought to be.

4 tough nuts out of 5

The Wild Geese (1978)

When it comes to movies about war/soldiers/mercenaries, etc, I prefer the traditional British model more than the typically boisterous American one. TWG is the former. In it Richard Burton is hired to perform an under the radar deed for a sizeable wage. He can't do it alone, however, so he enlists the help of his pals, Roger Moore and Richard Harris, thereby increasing the old-guy charisma level threefold. (Kudos also to the great supporting cast.)
The standard recruit and training phases have a nice balance of serious and comical moments, reminding us that it's just a movie despite the sensitive political nature surrounding its production and release. The actual politics in the script aren't as well-integrated as they could've been, but they serve a purpose and have a powerful, lingering quality.

3½ persuaders out of 5

Doctor Faustus (1967)

A sometimes surreal and unabashed stage-like adaptation of Kit Marlowe's classic play. The trappings that surround the titular character are great, even though they're clearly fake, and the coloured lighting is unusual.
The demon Mephistopheles is a memorable character. But Burton's Faustus not so much; his delivery is often flat and overly-rehearsed.
Liz appears in various silly guises any time a woman to be desired is needed, but she speaketh not and her inclusion makes the whole thing feel more like a weird commentary on the couple's turbulent private life than it does a struggle of conscience for the soul of the tragic doctor. To be frank, it's a train wreck at times, or, considering the era and pace, a horse drawn cart wreck.

2 professed depths out of 5

The Medusa Touch (1978)

I love discovering a film that ticks all the boxes I like ticked and makes me question how it ever managed to pass me by in the first place. It’s like unearthing an aged treasure, experienced as if it were new. The beautiful ‘old film’ feeling of 70s stock and knowing that FX aren't going to be painted pixels fills me with joy. You've guessed by now that TMT is such a film.
It begins like a regular crime drama, with a French Inspector (Lino Ventura) investigating the brutal murder of a writer in his London home.
It uses testimonies to initiate flashbacks, just like Citizen Kane (1941). They’re often accompanied by a Richard Burton V/O, and being a writer means his words have more literary power than the average Joe.
As the pieces begin to come together the film undergoes a sinister shift, taking up residence in a very different genre to that which it began.

4 victims of thought out of 5

Under Milk Wood (1972)

Dir. Andrew Sinclair's UMW is a strange but eminently memorable film that over the course of just one day offers a glimpse into the labours, loves and lecherous thoughts of various residents in a small Welsh fishing village. It has more than one narrator, each of them giving a unique life to Dylan Thomas' immensely moving, poetic words. The words are the real focus; so much so that a considerable part of the imagery is arguably superfluous.
The cast is large; we don't have labels for most of them and I can't possibly name them all in this post, but I must give special mention to Ann Beach because of all the folk songs that featured, hers was the most beautiful.

3½ audible dreams out of 5

Candy (1968)

Everyone wants a piece of Candy. Her innocence and willingness to do good land her in a lot of water and not all of it’s hot.
It's a satire based on the book by Terry Southern, a significant player in the counter-culture movement of the 1960s. It attracted a quality cast, so I assume it was considered of great importance among cult viewers of the era, but it's nothing more than a string of farcical sexual encounters and a number of great men embarrassing themselves thrown haphazardly together. That may well have been Dir. Christian Marquand's intention, but for me the absurdity never really satisfied.

1 Beatle in the bushes out of 5

The Comedians (1967)

The Comedians is set in Tahiti during the Papa Doc regime. It gathered together a wonderful cast including Richard Burton, Elizabeth Taylor, Peter Ustinov, Alec Guinness and James Earl Jones, and then delivered a stagnant bore-fest; even the cast looked bored out of their fucking minds.

1½ games of chance out of 5

Exorcist II: The Heretic (1977)

A 120 minute steaming, festering, locust covered turd.
It was my third attempt at watching the shit-fest, I had face-palmed myself into a coma the previous two times. I was determined to make it to the end. Determination is overrated. Never again.

0½ pseudoscientific quasi-religious bullshit out of 5

Cleopatra (1963)

It’s everything they say it is: expensive, opulent, historically inaccurate, self-indulgent and melodramatic eye-candy. Cut down from an eight hour work print it’s a wonder it makes any sense at all, but it does and it’s beautiful. They really don’t make ‘em like this any more (probably because it’s the most expensive movie ever made and almost bankrupt 20th Century Fox). The recent blu-ray delivers a 251 minute cut in stunning 1080p, which may be the longest we’ll ever see commercially unless some new footage turns up.

5 gilded histories out of 5

Becket (1964)

Two close friends are tested when their destinies lead them to different callings. It's a concept that's been explored many times in film but rarely with such passion. Dir. Peter Glenville's Becket is lavishly made, almost decadent in design, has an unapologetically honest script and stars two of the greatest British (well, Welsh and Irish) actors that ever lived. Seeing Richard Burton and Peter O'Toole in the same scene in one old film is worth fifty of today's disposable multiplex movies. The scenes with Henry II (O'Toole) and his wife (Pamela Brown) and children are vindictively hilarious. What a guy!

5 wenchings out of 5

The V.I.P.s (1963)

Spend time at an airport terminal and you'll catch glimpses of other people's lives; mini-dramas, all slightly connected due to the shared location.
Elizabeth Taylor looks gorgeous doing her thing; Richard Burton steals the show, like he often does, doing his; Orson Welles pops up and does something different. The sense of attachment and emotion is absent, except for one fabulous scene. If you must, watch it for the cast and not the script.

2½ toy ducks from Woolworths out of 5