In 2025, dare I say that it’s nice to be highlighting a film made for mature audiences. Avoiding the pratfalls of sequels, remakes, comic book movies, and overly costly bombast, Black Bag, written by David Koepp (Mission: Impossible) and directed by Steven Soderbergh (Traffic), is most easily described as an old school spycraft feature. Opening with an extended tracking shot of spy George Woodhouse (Michael Fassbender) making his way through a happening nightclub in London, his contact soon informs him that there is a rat leaking some sort of tech software named Severus from within the agency. If there is one thing Woodhouse despises, it’s a liar, so he invites all of the suspects to a dinner party to try to get to the bottom of it.
Like a copycat killer, it is somehow unusual and rather suspicious that anytime a good film idea hits production, it seems like there is another similar project coming down the pipeline. . . sometimes referred to as ‘twin films’, countless examples exist – White House Down and Olympus Has Fallen, Hitchcock and The Girl, The Prestige and The Illusionist, Friends With Benefits and No Strings Attached, Darkest Hour and Churchill, The Descent and The Cave (anyways, you get the idea). Another intriguing example finds the horror classic Don’t Look Now having a doppelganger in the 1972 Aldo Lado directed giallo Who Saw Her Die? – though don’t jump to conclusions as to which one is the knock-off. Released a year prior to the 1973 feature, Who Saw Her Die? also finds itself set in the eerily beautiful city of Venice, where a couple is dealing with the death of their child. With numerous similarities, like a water-set funeral and an intimate sex scene, and though the set up and settings are similar, in many ways, they are separate entities.
The Swinging Sixties were a most unique time, especially in London. Often seen as a more traditional, conservative city, the growth of this young, wild child generation clashed with their aging parents and grandparents, a kaleidoscopic counter culture seeping into the stiff upper lip backbone of the nation’s capital. Capturing 1969 London in all of its variations, Double Face, co-written and directed by Riccardo Freda, follows one man’s unlikely journey through this often unnerving world. Klaus Kinski plays John Alexander (in a surprisingly reserved way), a wealthy, middle aged businessman with a much more traditional outlook. Quickly wedding extremely cash-happy Helen (Margaret Lee), it is a marriage that soon wallows into a depressing wake of clashes and affairs. Helen soon finds a lover, Liz (Annabella Incontrera), leading to questions of whether their union will last.
One of the more unique films I’ve seen in a longtime, 2019's Parasite, co-written and directed by Bong Joon Ho (Snowpiercer), is a twisty movie best experienced without knowing too much – meaning that this will be as close to a spoiler free review as possible. Like many of his movies, Parasite (which he wrote along with Han Jin Won) deals with class divisions – the divide between rich and poor. In Snowpiercer, he adapted a novel that imagines a post-apocalyptic world where everyone left living resides in a specific compartment of a train depending on his or her wealth, yet this picture is grounded in a certain reality.
Twisting the twinkling night sky into a harbinger of doom, 1948's Night Has a Thousand Eyes is a classic film noir that delves into the inexplicable realm of parapsychology. Based upon a novel of the same name written by iconic crime scribe Cornell Woolrich (and adapted by Barré Lyndon and Jonathan Latimer), John Farrow (Where Danger Lives; Around the World in 80 Days) directs this intriguing story. Opening in dramatic fashion, we witness a last second rescue of a young woman attempting suicide late one night at a bustling industrial railway depot (a stunning visual sequence).
The third of four films made by the husband and wife dream team of Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall, 1947's Dark Passage, written and directed by Delmer Daves (Destination Tokyo), is perhaps one of the most unique film noirs of the classical era. Not revealing star Humphrey Bogart’s face until sixty-two minutes into the movie, studio head Jack L. Warner (Warner Bros), upon learning this, was absolutely furious. . . but, the film was already so far into production that nothing could be done.
Ushered away by the undercurrent of some uncharted territorial waterway, the mostly unknown films of José Ramón Larraz are a warped ride like no other. Not well known enough to be placed on any chart or map, likewise, they are near inexplicable. . . stuck within the cracks of multiple genres, but not beholden to, or perhaps, even accepted by any one of them. A Spanish filmmaker, the early portion of his career is comprised of his English work – five features shot in the rural British countryside, with the two that bookmark this period being looked at here today, 1970's Whirlpool (a film that was long thought to be lost) and 1974's Vampyres. Comprising many of the same themes, the first thing that stands out within the man’s oeuvre is its atmosphere. . . striking doom and gloom – you almost feel like The Rolling Stones’ tune is echoing their mystery – “I had a dream last night, That I was piloting a plane, And all the passengers were drunk and insane, I crash landed in a Louisiana swamp, Shot up a horde of zombies. . . What’s it all about? Guess it just reflects my mood, Sitting in the dirt, Feeling kind of hurt. When all I feel is doom and gloom, And all is darkness in my room. . .”. Whether you are watching the boggy fall forests that surround a picturesque country home in Whirlpool, or the Hammer-esque, dilapidated mansion, with its side doors guarded by two ominous gryphons in Vampyres, there is something unsettling in every minute detail of the way the auteur builds his narratives.