Rush Hour Directed by Brett Ratner Starring Jackie Chan, Chris Tucker, Tom Wilkinson, Philip Baker Hall
The formulaic plotline of this comedy-thriller about a Hong Kong detective and an American cop chasing down kidnappers in Los Angeles could have been lifted at random from a score of movies of the last decade, but in its own unpretentious way it works, thanks largely to its two lead actors. Martial arts star Chan has been making some inroads into the American market in recent years, but hasn't quite managed to find the right vehicle for his particular brand of bone-crunching action. In Tucker, he finally finds a good American foil for his exploits. It's simple, it's certainly not sophisticated, but in the competent hands of Ratner it delivers the goods.
Slums of Beverly Hills Directed by Tamara Jenkins Starring Alan Arkin, Natasha Lyonne, Kevin Corrigan, Marisa Tomei
The 1970s get yet another airing in Jenkins's quirky coming-of-age comedy, set amongst the members of an offbeat Los Angeles family, led by divorced dad Arkin, who leads his little brood on a nomadic existence around the fringes of Beverly Hills. Unknown to Arkin, though, his children, and especially his teenage daughter (Lyonne) are also educating themselves in those Seventies staples - sex and drugs - and matters are further complicated when he agrees to take in his druggy, airhead niece (Tomei). The amiable, rather lost ambience of teen, stoner culture of the period is nicely conveyed, and the grottiness of the family's transient lifestyle is well portrayed.
Titanic Town Directed by Roger Michell Starring Julie Walters, Ciaran Hinds, Nuala O'Neill
Set in Belfast in 1972 (but mostly filmed on a London housing estate), Michell's film stars Walters as an Andersonstown housewife who finds that her street has become a free-fire zone between the IRA and the British army. Walters tries to mobilise her neighbours against the violence, and the film follows the consequences for her family, especially her eldest daughter (O'Neill). The intertwining of the personal and the political is Michell's key visual motif, but the characterisation descends too often to sitcom level, with shrieking republican harridans, prissy middle-class `Peace Women' and plummy British officials all drawn with the broadest of strokes.