BAFTA-winning TV person with oodles of experience making promos, online videos, short-form content, and full programmes for kids' TV. Currently freelance as a producer, director, and writer. Also working on a novel, raising kids, and reading comics.
750! Who’d a thunk it? Seven hundred and fifty weeks of this shite. Bloody hell. I was going to do something kinda special, and I went back and forth, but in the end I’ve celebrated this milestone by going fractionally more biographical than usual, and also doing a list that it’s frankly ridiculous I’ve not already done. Seriously, it took me about fourteen and a half years to think of this? Flippin’ eck.
Anyway.
We’ve bought a new car this week. I’m not going to go into it: this isn’t a diary. But it has prompted me to do something that I thought for sure I’d done in the past: ranking my favourite fictional cars.
Now, when I’m saying “fictional”, I just mean cars that are in fiction; I don’t mean it has to be, like, the Flintstones’ car, that never really existed. I don’t mind if it’s a Reliant Robin or an Aston Martin – y’know, things one could hypothetically buy for-real – as long as it appears in some kind of fictional capacity and has, in some way, a bit of a personality.
However, regarding “personality”, I’ve made one big decision here, and that is that these cars are not allowed to be alive. I know what you’re thinking: you just made that rule because you were worried that otherwise you’d end up ranking ten Transformers. And you’re not wrong. But it also excludes the likes of Benny the Cab from Who Framed Roger Rabbit and – controversially? – KITT from Knight Rider. It doesn’t exclude any of the cars from the Cars movies because none of them ever stood a chance of making it into the top ten anyway. Well, maybe the Car Pope.
Also, what is a “car”? I mean, obviously it’s not a plane or a motorbike. But where do we draw the line? I’ve come to the perhaps arbitrary decision that if I can class it as a “van” then it’s also a “car”; but if you get to the level of “truck” then it’s out. Sorry, lorry. To keep this in Transformers terms for now, it means that whilst obviously Jazz and Cliffjumper would be classed as cars, so too would Ratchet and Ironhide. However, Optimus Prime would be out on his electronic ear.
And that’s all there is to it, really. My top ten favourite cars that have appeared in movies (TV, videogames, whatever). Start your engines.
Ten: Aston Martin DB5 (Goldfinger, 1964)
I think most of these cars have earned a place by being somehow extraordinary, rather than just looking nice; but the DB5 is still a gorgeous example of sixties style. Of course, beyond that, it’s one of the most iconic cars of all time, and its place in the Bond pantheon is assured. Full of all sorts of gimmicks and gadgets, it’s a Swiss Army Knife on wheels. And very pretty, too.
Nine: Mr. Bean’s Mini Cooper (Mr. Bean, 1992)
Just beating out the Minis from The Italian Job due to its singular status, Bean’s Mini represents a kind of everyday, genteel British humbleness. It’s charming and funny and a tiny bit silly, but it’s also ingenious. The many crazy ways in which Bean uses his Mini – usually to the detriment of a Reliant Robin – reinforces the man’s position as pathetic-seeming agent of chaos. And it’s funny coz it’s got a padlock on the door.
Eight: Mario’s Kart (Super Mario Kart, 1992)
Arguably the most iconic videogame vehicle, the various Karts raced by Mario and chums are almost as famous as the betachioed plumber’s dungarees and hat. Seemingly an ordinary go-kart with a red trim, its humble appearance allows for the colourful rider to be accentuated, visible even as a chunk 16-bit sprite, whilst also leaving room for stylistic flourishes and neat little tricks of design. Later games brought multiple types of car, bike, or glider, but it’s the simple kart that remains the distinctive visual motif of the series.
Seven: Turtle Van (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, 1987)
What I like about the Turtle Van (aka the Party Wagon) is that it’s really just a big, boxy van that can accommodate four turtles, their enormous shells, and their boiler suit-wearing newsreader pal. But it has enough cool touches, such as its shell-esque roof and a cool door that doubles as a ramp/gun emplacement, to feel very much on-brand and a unique vehicle in its own right. Plus it has a ramshackle charm, far away from a sleek Batmobile or even a relatively professional-looking homemade job like Ecto-1.
Six: Pursuit Special (Mad Max, 1979)
I’ll be honest and say that my favourite iteration of Max Rockatansky’s souped-up V8 Interceptor is the far more weathered and patched-up version seen in Mad Max 2 and Fury Road, complete with what appears to be huge jet engines sticking out the back. But the car itself is a cool seventies number to begin with, and once you factor in the homebrew, post-apocalyptic chic of the franchise, you’ve got a seriously sexy sci-fi bit of kit.
Five: Mystery Machine (Scooby-Doo, Where Are You!, 1969)
A bit like the Turtle Van, this is, well, a van – or more specifically a VW camper. Although its somewhat muted green colour scheme isn’t the height of psychedelia, it still screams sixties: the perfect vehicle for four stoner sleuths and their odd dog. It’s a type of car that really has a lot to say about time, place, and people; we understand Mystery Inc more because of their vehicle, and the fact it’s not all reds and oranges speaks to the spooky core of the show too.
Four: Bluesmobile (The Blues Brothers, 1980)
The perfect car if you’re on a mission from God; an old cop car. It’s got a cop motor, cop tyres, cop suspension, cop shocks, and a broken cigarette lighter. It can pretty much outrun anything, from rednecks to Nazis to the Actual Army. And it’s wonderfully, delightfully seventies, the way it fishtails out when careening around corners. Whatdaya say?
Three: Doc Brown’s DeLorean (Back to the Future, 1985)
Now we’re getting to the cars that really offer something extra, and what could be more extra than travelling through time? And if that’s not enough – if it’s not enough that this is a time machine – it can also fly with its cool little upside-down wheel thingies. The DeLorean itself is a wonderfully eighties slice of angular design, and the additions – huge engine thing, wires all over the shop, Mr Fusion – only adds to its charm.
Two: ECTO-1 (Ghostbusters, 1984)
First up you have the rather pretty Cadillac Miller-Meteor ambulance as its base, with its sleek curves and beautiful fin-things at the rear; but then it’s transformed into a paranormal emergency service vehicle. I’ve never known what all the gubbins on top of Ecto-1 are supposed to be, but I love them: various sensors and detectors and whatnot. It has the ramshackle appeal of other cars on this list, but it’s sleeker and more polished (literally). It really stands out, it has a silhouette all its own, and it is just incredibly cool. Everybody can relax they found the car.
One: Batmobile (Batman: The Animated Series, 1992)
I’ve picked the Animated Series version because aesthetically it’s my favourite, with its art deco stylings and elongated bonnet; but really it could have been so many Batmobiles. How could this car not be number one? It’s Batman’s car. It’s incredibly cool to look at, one of the sexiest cars ever designed, it’s souped-up beyond all recognition, and it’s got more gadgets than a James Bond boxset. Plus, I love the fact that it doesn’t really make much sense for Batman to have a car: he’s a high-tech ninja in an urban environment, so planes, gliders, auto-gyros, etc, would all be far better ways for him to get around a bustling city at night. But it’s just so damn sweet to see a cross between a 1950s hot rod and a Panzer tank come hurtling down Main Street before unleashing a martial artist in a Dracula costume to punch some turkeys in their turkey necks. “Iconic” doesn’t do it justice.
There were a lot bubbling under this week, even acknowledging the whole “non-sentient” thing. Some were just pretty – Magnum’s Ferrari, for instance – and some were super-bespoke, like a Blade Runner skimmer or even the Flintstones’ car. For someone with virtually no interest in cars, this proved to be a topic I could get a lot of mileage from. See what I did there? It’s jokes like that that’ve kept this thing going for 750 weeks.
That’s right, we’re rocking out this week as I chronicle my favourite musical acts of all time – bands, solo artists, lounge singers, weird blue dudes from space, you name it. Because – if that last reference wasn’t a clue – I’m not going for the real musicians here; I’m chronicling the fictional ones. And I don’t mean the Monkees.
No, this week I’m celebrating my favourite singers and whatnot who feature in films, TV, etc. You know the drill: any type of musical person who pops up in a fictional narrative. Generally speaking we’re looking at films, as pretend music-people often work better when you can see them move and hear them sing, I find; although a couple of these do have their roots in literature.
I nearly didn’t do this because I think there are at least two seminal texts when discussing fictional musicians that I’ve not seen – namely, Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story and Josie and the Pussycats. However, I decided that I’m not Sight and Sound and no one should come to me for authoritative advice, and I might as well press ahead.
Because I love really fictional worlds; not just worlds that are meant to be “here” or “now”, but ones that offer an entirely different set of pop cultural variables. The video store in Last Action Hero, with its version of Terminator 2 starring Sylvester Stallone, might be a little too on-the-nose, but the one in The Lost World, featuring a poster for a Robin Williams film called Jack and the Seven Giants? Yes please. Give me more of that. Totally made up and make believe movies, shows, books, and, yes, songs.
(brief shoutout to Quentin Tarantino and his use of Red Apple cigarettes in basically all his films; because nothing says “alternate reality” than pretend brand names)
So, yeah, I love fictitious stuff in my fiction, and music is no different. Here, then, are my ten favourite made-up musicians from the movies. I’ve picked them based on a set of criteria: one, they have to be kind of fun or funny or cool in and of themselves; like, you kinda have to like them, even if you were gonna like the fact that they’re a div. Secondly, I want their musicality to be a part of the story: not just say you’re a singer, actually sing. Third – and this one is, I warrant, optional, but it’s still a booster – I like it when they make music that is, well, good. Even if it’s supposed to be a bit bad, a sense of genuine musicality somewhere in the mix goes a long, long way.
And now, let’s turn it up to eleven.
Ten: The Max Rebo Band (Return of the Jedi, 1983)
Yes, the blue elephant-looking dude who plays in Jabba’s Palace. But you can’t deny his band rocks: he’s a fat alien version of Jools Holland, tickling those space-ivories, while his band toot their horns. And he has to be cool because his boss is a giant space slug. And let’s not forget that the music he plays is called jizz. He is, canonically, a jizz-wailer. Best song: Lapti Nek
Nine: 4*Town (Turning Red, 2022)
Such a pitch-perfect parody of early-noughties boy bands it’s unreal, even after you discover their songs were written (IRL) by Billie Eilish and Fineas. Everything about them just feels genuine, from their non-threatening appearance to their clothes, their names, and above all the songs, which absolutely could be genuine pop hits. Best song: Nobody Like U
Eight: Wyld Stallyns (Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, 1989)
Only this low because we get merely a glimmer of how great they’re meant to be, but no one can deny the camaraderie between Bill S. Preston and Ted “Theodore” Logan. Whatever the universe throws at them – exams, strict parents, actually being dead – their bond and their love of music sees them through. And they play a mean air guitar. Let’s not forget, too, that at one point their lineup consisted of two medieval princesses, an alien gestalt, and Death. All together now: STATION! Best song: God Gave Rock & Roll to You
Seven: Powerline (A Goofy Movie, 1995)
Another parody that is just utterly perfect, Powerline is one part Michael Jackson (back when, er, that was seen as a good thing) to five parts Prince. His shows are explosive, pyrotechnical affairs, and his songs are intense electro-pop expressions of love. He is, I’m gonna be honest here, kinda sexy for a cartoon character, but he feels both supremely cool and utterly genuine. And y’know what? He looks like he’s a nice guy, too. Best song: Eye to Eye
Six: Jessica Rabbit (Who Framed Roger Rabbit, 1988)
Jessica isn’t bad, she’s just drawn that way: a towering, booby femme fatale in a sparkly cocktail dress, she carries the gravitas and, frankly, raw sex appeal that comes with Kathleen Turner’s distinctive husky voice. But beyond that, she’s a consummate professional and absolutely first-rate singer. Her crooning number about awful men is suitably sultry but could have been sung by Monroe, although Marilyn doesn’t have Jessica’s baritone. And she bakes a mean carrot cake. Best song: Why Don’t You Do Right
Five: Sex Bob-Omb (Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, 2010)
What I like about Sex Bob-Omb (apart from their chucklesome Mario-aping name) is how they appear to be a bunch of losers with delusions of grandeur, until you hear them play. Perhaps one of the biggest gags in Scott Pilgrim is that Sex Bob-Omb are legitimately great, and their songs are a proper early-noughties indie bop. Their MVP, clearly, is drummer Kim Pine (Alison Pill), whose caustic, deadpan demeanour carries over into an arresting stage presence. Best song: We Are Sex Bob-Omb
Four: Preacher Boy (Sinners, 2025)
Literally the son of a preacher man, Sammie Moore (Miles Caton) is a musical prodigy: a very young man innately gifted with musical genius. The film does an extraordinarily good job of showing how his music – but also, really, all music – is capable of uniting people, with its power and influence stretching back and forth across time. Despite the fierce disapproval of his father – and the fact that he’s attacked by vampires – he becomes a success across the decades. And too right; he’s great! Best song: I Lied to You
Three: Connor4Real (Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping, 2016)
I think, amazingly, this is the first proper parody singer we’ve had on the list – but what a corker. Connor (Andy Samberg) might not be the mirror image of a real boy band-turned-solo artist, the way 4*Town are virtually indistinguishable from a real band, but he’s certainly funnier than everyone so far. From his wild self-belief to his towering ego to his songs that are both grossly inappropriate and utterly hilarious, he’s a superstar. Best song: Finest Girl
Two: The Blues Brothers (The Blues Brothers, 1980)
Despite starting life on SNL and starring in their own comedy vehicle, the actual band The Blues Brothers play it fairly straight: sincere covers of blues and soul hits. And they’re good! Legitimately good! The pair have phenomenal stage presence, with Elwood’s laid-back positivity and Jake’s livewire energy, and they’re both pretty groovy dancers. And they have range – see their Rawhide cover! And if all that wasn’t enough they’re on a mission from God. Best song: Everybody Needs Somebody to Love
One: Spinal Tap (This is Spinal Tap, 1984)
Are these guys the only band who segued from comedy to being a real band? Maybe the Blues Brothers too? Anyway, Spinal Tap are so note-perfect a parody of seventies rockers that they are – in demeanour, mannerisms, and eccentricities – virtually indistinguishable. One could argue (I apologise in advance) that they’re just a regular heavy metal band turned up to eleven. And whilst there’s certainly a weirdness to their songs, they are good songs; like I said, they’re a real band! And they’re probably the most influential on this list, with the greatest legacy. And Rob Reiner made their films so that makes them the best by default. Best song: Big Bottom
Not sure why I chose to do this one now – but also in a weird way, not sure why it’s taken me so long!
As a writer – and I suppose I am a writer, even if I guess I don’t do it professionally; I mean, you’re reading something that I’ve written right now – I’ve always been fascinated by and interested in other writers. As well as the sense of “hey, they made it!”, there’s also that thing of wanting to know who wrote something you fell in love with. What are their tricks, what are their signs; the thumbprints on the plasticine of the script. Film is a funny medium because we centre so much of our fascination around directors; but where would they be without a good script?
And what unites these guys (and, I’m sorry, most of them are guys; yes, you can blame me, but also blame Hollywood for the comparative dearth of female writers, certainly in my formative years) is that they really do write good scripts. From hilarious gags to cunning wordplay to coffee-cup-dropping shocks to, well, just an innate sense of story and structure, these are some incredibly well-crafted movie machines. And one thing I wanted to celebrate here was a degree of consistency: for instance, I think Back to the Future is one of the greatest screenplays ever written – funny, inventive, character-driven, hums with a perfect, clockwork sense of rhythm – but I don’t think the rest of Zemeckis and/or Gale’s output is quite as excellent (screenplay-wise, I’d go to bat for some of Zemeckis’ directorial joints). So my picks for this list are all writers who I think have been consistently good over multiple years, multiple films; writers who, once you know they’re on the case, you can be fairly confident of a high level of quality.
I think that last point is kind of key, actually; these are all writers who I’d be excited if I knew they were behind a particular project, writers whose skill keeps me interested and entertained. They’re all writers, to a greater or a lesser degree, who’ve influenced me over the years; some of these are people who I’ve either actively imitated (er, for better or worse) or at the very least wanted to try to emulate the style and vibe of a writer like that. To this day there’s at least one of the guys who I keep saying to myself “I want my dialogue to feel like that,” and really, is there a higher compliment?
These are writers that make me want to write.
There’s also a bit of a modern bias going on here; frankly I know more about the ins, outs, and wider careers of more-or-less contemporary writers, so Leigh Brackett, Herman Mankiewicz, and Julius Epstein might just have to wait until I watch more Old Films.
So let’s break out the typewriter, get our quills together, and try not to think of Barton Fink as we channel my favourite screenwriters of all time!
Ten: Christopher McQuarrie
McQ is adept at structure. He’s done some excellent scripts that manage to adhere to formula whilst still delivering great dialogue and truly epic twists – I mean, he wrote The Usual Suspects – but I think he’s more impressive for his blockbuster work. His innate ability to understand when there has to be exposition, or an action scene, or why a character needs to be in a particular place at a particular time, might just be second to none. The fact that the actual scripts of his Mission: Impossible movies are written around the needs of the structure makes it even more impressive an achievement.
Nine: Charlie Kaufman
I’m a sucker for work that deconstructs narrative to some degree (my favourite comic writer is Grant Morrison) and the best of Kaufman’s work is very deconstruction-y. Adaptation is not just an adaptation (of The Orchid Thief) but also a movie about adaptation, and writing itself, and Hollywood, and Charlie Kaufman. It’s also – and this is another of Kaufman’s traits that I love – utterly bonkers. Yet despite the weirdness of his work, it’s also deeply emotional and profoundly moving; it’s this mix of structural cleverness, surrealism, and heart that I love.
Eight: Kevin Smith
When I was in my early teens there were two writers who I felt really spoke to me and became huge influences (the other one will be along in a minute); filmmakers who I wished I could emulate. Smith’s work is incredibly funny; he’s a gifted comedian (as anyone’s who’s watched his live appearances will attest) and his characters drop multiple gags with a distinctive patter that’s oh-so-Smith. This unique voice extends to his whole fictional worldview; his movies generally exist in their own weird universe of weed and filth. But beyond all this he’s also full of heart, a massive softy despite the vulgar dialogue and dick jokes: a romantic fool with a potty mouth.
Seven: Nora Ephron
I’m kinda mortified there’s only one woman on this list (Diablo Cody was just bubbling under, honest!). Anyway, Ephron wrote on of the greatest scripts of all time in When Harry Met Sally, but beyond that she always had an innate ability to marry some genius, hilarious wordplay with emotional honesty and gave the romcom a refreshingly female touch. She had an old-school mentality which gave a lot of her scripts the aura of a Classic Hollywood romcom.
Six: Billy Wilder
I said this list had a modern tint to it, but that doesn’t mean I’m overlooking Ye Olde Movies. I love the rat-a-tat-tat dialogue in films as diverse as Casablanca, White Christmas, or Bringing Up Baby. Wilder was a megastar, an absolute icon, with a career stretching decades. He was not only incredibly funny but his films had bite to them: unafraid to push the envelope in terms of sex and death and relationships, despite often being relatively light and breezy comedies. I’m thinking specifically of The Apartment (a romcom about suicide!) or Some Like It Hot, both of which are in contention for “greatest last line of all time”.
Five: Mel Brooks
I talk a lot about comedy here, and I do appreciate a really well-crafted witticism. Brooks is different: he’s a gag machine, firing out joke after joke, crafting elaborate situations of extreme silliness. If you look at something like The Producers, not only do we get two iconic leads, but the whole plot of the film is hilarious, and then you get incredibly funny scenes, and then little moments, and then lines – it’s a work of absolute genius. Even his “lesser” films still have supreme gags, and the fact that he’s still working at a hundred years old is remarkable.
Four: Shane Black
For a particular kind of film, Black is the best there is. He became adept at crafting slick Hollywood action: propulsive, exciting, but still funny. Obviously Lethal Weapon is the calling card here: yeah, it’s the kind of stylish buddy-action movie that you’d see in the eighties, but it had some degree of heft to it, and it was really funny with memorable characters. And if Black can be accused of sticking to a formula, at least it’s one that few other people are attempting nowadays, and one he’s just amazingly skilled at, from The Last Boy Scout to Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (a scabrous and hilarious slice of neo-noir) to large stretches of Iron Man 3. Just don’t mention The Predator.
Three: The Coen Brothers
I think the Coens are so renowned and revered as directors that we can overlook how great their scripts are. They’re stylish and often a touch surreal, with unusual dialogue and a world that feels uniquely Coen. Characters have odd speech patterns and seemingly inconsequential lines can become hilarious (Frances McDormand saying “oh yeah?”; Holly Hunter saying “bona fide”). Add to that plots that often verge on the labyrinthine, with criminal plans that unspool in often ridiculous ways – or somethings just nefarious, as in No Country for Old Men.
Two: Quentin Tarantino
There was definitely a time when old Quent would have been my favourite writer; a profound influence on Teenage David. And the thing is, you absolutely cannot take away his skill with a script: Reservoir Dogs is taught and lean, Pulp Fiction a non-linear yet totally interconnected masterpiece of structure. His dialogue is sublime: he’s able to make the mundane feel like poetry. He’s very funny. And he creates some wonderful characters. If, in later years, he perhaps as edged towards the self-indulgent, he’s still capable of drawing out scenes of power or humour, such as the tense opening of Inglourious Basterds or DiCaprio’s breakdown in Hollywood.
One: Aaron Sorkin
Is it a bit of a cheat that my favourite film writer is arguably most famous for a TV programme? And certainly that’s his best work. But if The West Wing is all of Sorkin’s strengths (and, naturally, his weaknesses) writ large, these facets are on display in microcosm throughout his career. For one thing, he’s the best dialogue guy around: not only are some of his speeches works of rhetorical art, but just the rhythm and tone he elicits is tremendous. He’s capable of making complex stuff sound gorgeous, whether it’s politics in The American President or law in A Few Good Men or operating systems in Steve Jobs. He has a social conscience, too, which shines through, even if it is perhaps rooted in a soft-liberal post-war patriarchal niceness that dates some of his work; but at least it’s there, a belief in a better world where we can all get along. But beyond all this is his heart: his characters feel truly human despite speaking in fast, grand, eloquent ways that would baffle your average bloke, and quite often he will move us to tears with the gentleness of his words. And he’s funny. He’s really, really funny. Freak.
Here we are, just sneaking in under the wire with a Weekend Top Ten that’s almost a weekday! If you’re not reading this when it actually gets posted – which, it’s fair to say, will be the vast majority of people reading – then it won’t matter in any which way (but loose); however, technically it’s nearly midnight right now so this is only technically a Weekend Top Ten.
But! It’s another special one, because once again I’ve turned the keyboard over to One Of My Kids, who has crafted a list of aural delights. Daughter #1 is a somewhat iconoclastic little muso whose tastes are varied and perhaps surprising – or perhaps not, really, as she accounts for fifty percent of the children I have day-to-day dealings with. What I mean, though, is that she listens to a lot of “old” music, from Bowie to Queen to the Smiths to the comparatively recent likes of McFly or Green Day. And one of her biggies is Marina (sometimes with the Diamonds, sometimes not? I dunno, don’t ask me, when I was her age pretty much all I listened to was the Pulp Fiction soundtrack).
So for your listening delectation please do enjoy this list of the best Marina songs. Some of these I knew, some of these I heard only recently! Although the list is hers, the words are mine, as I try to offer my thoughts on Marina’s oeuvre.
Now make like you’re in Our Price wearing those big headphones, and have a listen, why don’tcha?
Ten: Primadonna (2012)
A lot of Marina’s songs seem to be about bad men or the troubles placed on women by the patriarchy/capitalism/delete as appropriate, but this takes aim at a prissy, demanding woman. It’s funny and entertaining and Marina herself has a terrific, multifaceted voice.
Nine: Hermit the Frog (2010)
Bristling with inner fury, this story of a rather put-upon and underappreciated woman coming into her own in the face of an overbearing man would be relatively ordinary if it wasn’t for Marina’s unique vocals.
Eight: Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land (2021)
I’m more familiar with this one as my daughter used to play this album a lot in the car. Anyway: I really like thissun. It’s about individuality contrasted with homogeny and the desire to be your own person, but the composition and the electric beat, plus Marina’s fantastic and multi-faceted vocals, really lift it.
Seven: Mowgli’s Road (2010)
Bit of an odd one this, which I think is about pursuing artistic integrity in the fact of commercial success? Choosing the right fork in the road, contrasted with silver spoons? I’m not really sure where Rudyard Kipling comes into it. But the video is funky.
Six: Girls (2010)
A great, propulsive, poppy tune with excellently satirical feminist lyrics, reminiscent of Taylor Swift’s The Man (my kids should really bond over their mutual appreciation of smart feminist female singer-songwriters). But there’s a nice sense of anger here brimming below the surface.
Five: Oh No! (2010)
A kind of anti-capitalist screed disguised as an incredibly danceable bop. There’s a lovely examination of imposter syndrome (“I feel like I’m the worst so I always act like I’m the best”) beneath its poppy exterior. I’d have put this higher, myself.
Four: Are You Satisfied? (2010)
Really cool Europoppy tune that alternates between fast-paced verses and a more traditionally trilling kinda chorus. Another of her songs that explores the gap between image and reality.
Three: Shampain (2010)
A groovy hungover song with a nice, boppy beat and upbeat rhythm. The contrast between the poetic language and its more mundane, depressive meaning is striking.
Two: The Family Jewels (2010)
I find Marina often has a rather delightful, syncopated warble (look, this isn’t the NME, don’t come here for terminology), and it’s deployed here to winning effect. Although I am a little concerned that a song about familial dysfunction ranked so highly.
One: I Am Not a Robot (2010)
Nice bit of falsetto giving way to a rousing chorus. Not as heavy or angry as some of her other stuff, but it’s got a lovely positive message.
I’m just gonna chime in at the end and say my favourite song of hers is still probably Venus Fly Trap, but this was fun to listen to.
Also: 747! I should have made her write something about planes.
This week we’re going to have a very special Father’s Day celebration by looking at the most manliest of things: the moustache. And we will do so by examining the moustache at the peak of its powers, which is to say, the 1980s.
Obviously there were some pretty impressive taches earlier than that; the late 19th Century saw the form achieve near-perfection on both sides of the Atlantic, whether it was the freakiest examples of Victorian top-lip-topiary, or the bushier excesses of Frontier America. However, in all those cases, you’re talking about facial hair of gargantuan proportions such as one would struggle to justify it in these modern climes, unless you were ironically riding a Penny Farthing or were Actual Sam Elliot.
No, it’s the eighties were taches truly found their niche, from the suggestive wink of John Waters – looking for all the world like he’s drawn his on with an eyebrow pencil – to the plush regalness of Burt Reynolds, to the fiery fuzz of Dennis Franz in Die Hard 2 (proving once and for all that a moustache can look angry). A big furry lip caterpillar was so popular, that they even became de rigour for animated characters: several major cartoons featured be-tached protagonists, to say nothing of villains as varied as Max Mayhem from M.A.S.K. to SuperTed’s nemesis Texas Pete. And they never quite made it onto the list, but the Mario Bros are as famous for their facial insignias as they are for their ability to murder turtles (maybe if the Shredder had a tache he’d have had fewer problems). Look, what I’m saying is big moustaches were quite popular in the 1980s; even Peter Mandelson had one, and look at all he achieved!
(Pause for laughter)
So to celebrate all that is paternal in the world, I hereby rank my favourite moustaches of the decade, from hunk hairy-chested love gods to fuzzy old grandpa types to, er, a robot planet. Look, it takes all sorts is what I’m saying. It was a different time back then.
And who knows? Maybe I’ll follow this follicle trajectory to its inevitable conclusion and rank the top ten goatees of the nineties. Or maybe not.
Ten: Unicron (The Transformers: The Movie, 1984)
Yes of course we’re starting with Transformers, this is my list. And to be fair, The Movie features several robo-taches, from naughty henchman Scourge to weirdo Junkion Wreck-Gar. But how can you not love an evil robot the size of an actual planet who also inexplicably has a metal moustache? I want to stress this again: Unicron is a robot the size of a planet who for some reason also has a moustache. This is the best thing ever and you all know it.
Nine: Freddie Mercury (Live Aid, 1985)
Freddie often went with or without his tacheroonie, but to me he’s iconic when he’s wearing it, and he reached his apotheosis at Live Aid. There were connotations here, obviously; whether it was his dress or demeanour, or maybe just the cut of his whiskers above pursed lips, but this is probably the quintessential example of “Gay Man Tache”.
Eight: Duncan (He-Man and the Masters of the Universe, 1983)
Yeah, another cartoon character; sue me, I was a kid in the eighties. Anyway, Duncan – aka “Man at Arms” – was basically the elder, paternal figure in He-Man (I mean, he’s literally Teela’s dad). This gave his tache a distinct dad-vibe. But what a tache: thick, furry, and above all, ginger. True strength comes from rocking an enormous ginger moustache, especially when you’re fighting a bloke with three eyes and a dude with a metal jaw.
Seven: Ernie Hudson (Ghostbusters, 1984)
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve appreciated Winstone Zeddemore more and more. He’s the everyman Ghostbuster, and he’s brilliantly, empathetically played by Hudson, earthing the team of livewires and weirdoes. And his tache – short, neat, full without being bushy – is a core part of his character. It connotes that earthiness, as well as robustness; Winston was originally written as a military veteran, and there’s a strength of purpose (and of spine) that still carries through. Plus he’s seen shit that’d turn you white.
Six: Max Ray (Centurions, 1986)
Here we get to one of those moustachioed cartoon leading men I was on about: big, broad, side-partinged blokes with fairly neat but full taches. In this sense, Max is broadly very similar in appearance to Leoric from Visionaries; but his gimmick is much cooler when you play with toy (you stick bits in him all over to give him a weird cyborg-y body!). Also, on reflection, they all owe a bit of a debt to Tony Stark’s comic book design at the time. And, of course, a certain Hawaii-based P.I. who’ll probably pop up at some point.
Five: Bernard Hill (Boys from the Blackstuff, 1982)
Can a moustache convey sadness? Because Hill’s offering here is as hangdog as the character who sports in, the beleaguered Yosser Hughes. Big and bushy but perennially drooping and somewhat unkempt, it’s the facial hair equivalent of Droopy the dog’s pendulous jowls. I’ve already touched on how facial hair is a watermark of manliness, and the juxtaposition of the hirsute, strong-looking Hill and his increasingly tragic, pathetic life is especially stark.
Four: Wilford Brimley (Cocoon, 1985)
Now this is a moustache. Look at it! It’s huge! It’s bushy! He looks like a Disney character! I bet he could shake it out like a wet dog every time he drinks a beer! It’s fantastic! When I’m old, I want a moustache like this. Except of course Brimley was only 49 when he played a supposedly over-the-hill grandpa given a magical new lease of life in Cocoon. So I’ve got five years to perfect a sumptuous soup-strainer like this. I feel like finding an alien pod would be more realistic.
Three: Eddie Murphy (Beverly Hills Cop, 1984)
Murphy’s facial fuzz is so iconic that it’s really hard to imagine him without it. Even Mushu had a tach in Mulan, and he was a dragon! But really, can you picture him without his tache? The only thing I can think of is Norbert, and are we sure that wasn’t makeup? Anyway: he’s got a cool tache that manages to be both thick and thin at the same time, tapering delightfully at the edges. It feels very eighties, but it’s also just what Eddie looks like; almost a visual trademark. Better than a banana in the exhaust.
Two: Tom Selleck (Magnum P.I., 1980)
Who else could it be? If one tache defined the decade, it was Thomas Magnum’s. Selleck’s lip garden is as thick as you’d like, but it’s not wild and unruly; nor is it supremely coiffed. Rather, it is the perfect amalgamation of suave and rugged; much like Selleck himself. It’s a look exacerbated by the fact he’s often in shorts or sometimes tipless, showing off just how hairy he is, like Beorn halfway through going Full Bear. Selleck, of course, wielded his tache in various other films of the decade, such as Three Men and a Baby, so as well as just looking all kinds of cool it really was a great visual motif.
I'm getting all topical again, writing a list to time with something that’s happening out there in the wide, wide world! This week, to mark the release of Disclosure Day, I’m just flat out enjoying myself by ranking my favourite movies by Steven Spielberg.
I’ve done this before, of course; my first ever list (way back in 2012!) was about favourite Spielberg moments, and of course I've just plain ranked his films before too. But every once in a while I like to revisit a list like this, not just to reflect my own changing tastes, but because old Steve is still out there making movies. And who knows what new treats might end up on my own personal Top Ten? Could Disclosure Day be the next Close Encounters?
The thing about Spielberg is that the idea of a brand new film of his ending up as one of my all-time favourites isn’t that fantastical a concept. For a guy about to turn 80, he’s still making films of supreme quality. I genuinely think the likes of The Fabelmans and West Side Story stack up against pretty much anything he’s made in his astonishing fifty-five-year career (longer if you go back to his TV work!). He is, of course, a master craftsman who just understands this medium better than most; even a weaker Spielberg such as Hook (which I still really like!) has some extraordinarily well-staged, well-shot, well-choreographed sequences that reflect his technical prowess and his ability to pull the very best work out of all of his collaborators on both sides of the lens. Sequences such as the school dance in West Side Story are just phenomenal to behold, the work of a guy who knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s been doing it since he was a child.
And that’s before you get to the emotionality of his work. He’s often been labelled as a sentimentalist, and he certainly does know how to tug heartstrings. But I think precious few of his films are cynical about it: he just tells stories, both grand and intimate, that nail aspects of human nature and as such make us – humans – very emotional. Yes, we get weepy when E.T. has to say goodbye to Elliot; but think also of Oskar Schindler breaking down at the end of that film – the whole - “I could have got one more” sequence. Even in the big blockbusters you’ve got moments such as Agatha describing the alternate future of a dead child in Minority Report, or – and I’m a sucker for this bit - “Indiana, let it go.” Always the humanity at the centre of the story, whether it’s a naturalistic drama, a dark sci-fi, or a bonkers chase for a supernatural relic.
And even beyond all that he’s also just great at the thrilling, the exciting, the terrifying: he is, if anything, undersung as one of the best action directors in cinema (Raiders’ truck scene; Omaha Beach in Private Ryan; the virtuoso chase sequence from The Adventures of Tintin – I could go on). He’s also an expert at invoking dread and horror – I mean, the guy made Jaws, but it’s evident in everything from the gory excesses of Indiana Jones through the Jurassic dinos, the War of the Worlds Martians, and even, despite its optimistic nature, the Close Encounters aliens. I mean, crikey, the scene where little Barry is abducted is fully-fledged horror material; no wonder people still think he ghost-directed Poltergeist (no pun intended).
Anyway, the point I’m making, which I really didn’t need to make, is that he’s very good at what he does. And this is a list of ten films of such lethal cunning that we can only call it “my favourite Spielberg movies”. For now.
Ten: Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989)
I have an enormous soft spot for this film; in a lot of ways it’s probably my favourite Indy, even though I don’t think it’s as pure or effective as Raiders. It’s all in the interplay and chemistry between Harrison Ford and Sean Connery: a real odd couple relationship full of wonderful character grace notes and hilarious lines. “I’m as human as the next man”; “I was the next man” is just a work of genius. It’s got some absolutely terrific action sequences, some genuinely tense moments, and the Marcus Brody “he’s got the Grail already” bit. It’s also got a perfect ending, which they’d never spoil by making two more (see also: Toy Story 3).
Nine: Lincoln (2012)
I’m a sucker for well-written and well-acted drama in which very smart people just say very smart things smartly to one another. This film feels like a period version of The West Wing, and that’s definitely a good thing. Daniel Day-Lewis gives an absolute belter of a performance as the big man, dissolving into the role, dispensing gentle anecdotes but possessing a core of steel. And it’s beautiful: Janusz Kamiński's photography is extraordinary, feeling natural at all times but still managing that Spielbergian grandeur. A political masterpiece.
Eight: West Side Story (2021)
A technical tour-de-force as Spielberg pulls out all the stops to create a musical of supreme craftsmanship. I’ve talked about the dance sequence before, but the way Spielberg stitches together two separate oners, follows the groups of kids naturalistically, and then switches up to a stylised look when Tony and Maria sing under the bleachers, is incredible. It goes on: the shadows on the ground as the gangs line up, the framing of the ironwork during the balcony scene, the bravura comic choreography of “Gee Officer Krupke” – this film is stunning, beautiful to look at. He took an already-existing classic and made another classic.
Seven: The Fabelmans (2022)
A portrait of the artist as a young man, this fictionalised autobiography isn’t just an account of Spielberg’s life growing up as a wannabe filmmaker; it’s also about how movies can shape a psyche and heal a soul, but also a darker warning of the burning, yearning heart of an artist. There are so many beautiful grace notes and authentic touches – Sam’s mother dancing round a campfire, Sam’s ingenuity when making his micro-masterpieces, “Jesus is sexy” – but the key scene is probably the stark, haunting speech delivered by Sam’s uncle about the cost of creativity. And it has maybe the greatest final shot in Spielberg’s oeuvre. It’s interesting.
Six: Jurassic Park (1993)
If I’d done this list thirty years ago this film would have been top and it wouldn’t have been close. Spielberg once again empties his bag of tricks to make a film that is one part gonzo action blockbuster and one part white-knuckle thriller as intense as to be borderline horror. He really does look putting the willies up audiences. The revolutionary use of CGI wowed at the time, but the fact that the first time they were attempting to create organic creatures Spielberg still refused to keep it simple, with reflective surfaces an moving cameras, grounds the effects and tells a gripping story. And it’s just fun, all the way through, with a great cast and another of John Williams’ all-timer scores.
Five: Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)
Speaking as we were of all-timer scores, I defy anybody to not immediately have the Raiders march playing in their head right now. Rallying after the disappointing 1941, Spielberg – with his goody buddy George – raided (he he) their memories for all the tropes of derring-do adventure serials and created a modern icon in the laconic cool of Harrison Ford’s Indy. We might remember the stunning stuntwork and action choreography (the trucks! The jet! The boulder!), but the character endures because of Ford’s hangdog performance, and his beautiful chemistry with Karen Allen’s Marion.
Four: Schindler’s List (1993)
Spielberg spent much of the eighties trying to tackle more mature themes alongside his family-friendly blockbusters, and he fought hard to adapt the story of Oskar Schindler (famously trading projects with Martin Scorsese, who had the rights to the book). The resultant film is a devastating masterpiece, sumptuously shot in black and white by Kaminski, unflinchingly displaying the horrors of the Holocaust, but – typically Spielbergian – retaining throughout the hope of humanity. Schindler is a flawed man but even he has a thread of heroism running through him, and, as I’ve already hinted at, the final scene is heartbreaking. Deserved all its Oscars.
Three: E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982)
What’s E.T. short for? This is arguably Spielberg’s first attempt at an autobiography, E.T. himself a fantastical otherworldly hook on which to hang the story of a fractured family. We’re instantly drawn to the intense emotional bond between Elliot and E.T., and the performances of the young cast are exemplary. But returning to it as an adult, the sadness of their mum – a wonderful Dee Wallace – is more evident, a woman holding her family together but clearly with a broken heart and unable to suffer more loss. Despite the sentimentality and kid-focused action there is a maturity and intelligence shot through the whole film. He’s got little legs.
Two: Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977)
Woah, controversy alert: for decades I’d have told you my favourite Spielberg was Close Encounters. And yet here it is at number two? What gives? Well, I love it no less: it remains a masterpiece of the highest order, a fantastic epic of hope and terror that goes to extremes – mental breakdown, government conspiracy, a terrifying abduction – before resolving to be a story about the best of us. The slow knotting of the disparate plot threads, the great, naturalistic performances, the beautiful photography, all unite at that moment at Devil’s Tower. I’ve always loved how many of my obsessions over the years – X-Files-style conspiracies, aliens, visual effects, even my overall interest in movies and moviemaking and the sixties/seventies “Movie Brat” explosion in Hollywood – are all delivered in spades here. To paraphrase the film, Spielberg was probably one of them.
One: Jaws (1975)
A new champion! I decided, after much internal strife, that whilst I don’t think Jaws is any better than Encounters, and I don’t necessarily love it any more, if I had to put one on it would be the shark movie. It’s arguably more enjoyable, and so it gets the top spot, by a nano-millimetre. Whilst Encounters is an expansive epic this is a taught chamber piece, illuminated by the tortured face of Schieder’s Martin Brody. Whilst it’s the shark bits that stick in the public consciousness – no doubt soundtracked by another all-timer of a score from John Williams, whose contribution here is fundamental to the film’s success – it’s the stories on land, of Schieder battling with bureaucracy or getting drunk at the dinner table, that hit the hardest for me. And then when they get on the boat! Oh my god! It’s just banger after banger from Spielberg and crew over here. The fact that he was able to achieve all this – to conceptualise it, to frame and shoot it, and to deal with the myriad problems that plagued the shoot – when he was only 27 and this was technically only his second feature film (Duel was meant to be a TV movie), is an astounding piece of work. My hat’s off to you, Steven. I’ll go see Disclosure Day next week.
Think about the film that didn’t make this list. Saving Private Ryan! The Post! Minority Report! The guy has a resume, is what I’m saying.
I didn’t intend for this week’s list to be topical; it was just one of those I had planned to get around to at some point. But then good old Sir Quentin of Tarantino went and opened his mouth again – or, rather, wrote an article for Sight and Sound – and suddenly Captain Grumpychops is back in the news.
Yes, in yet another move that solidifies his ascent from Wunderkind Auteur to Whingebag Elitist, Tarantino has been slagging off, well, everything. Pretty much everything he sees, he says, is a load of crap from “the sausage factory that used to be called Hollywood”. Apart from The Rip; he really liked The Rip. And that’s fine; it’s good. But I bet Tarantino sees a lot more films than me and I’d still only rank The Rip the fourth-best film I’ve seen this year, and that’s if we class Hamnet as a 2025 release.
Now, it’s not impossible, but he might be thinking this because Matthew Lillard is in everything at the moment. Who can say. It’s a mystery.
Anyway, Tarantino’s decision to become essentially the worst version of an Ain’t It Cool News reviewer is incredibly disappointing because it does overshadow just how good most of his films are (at least he’s not shilling for AI companies, though, eh, Marty?). And Tarantino was really good (I mean, he still is I suppose, but he doesn’t show it as much these days). In the nineties, he was a firebreathing shot to the system, a punch in the jaw of Hollywood. I think the nineties indie boom would have happened regardless (Miramax was doing its thing – and, sadly, so was Harvey Weinstein), but Tarantino’s blend of highbrow cineliteracy, pop cultural joie de verve, and genuine directing chops – plus his penchant for effs, jeffs, and deaths – not only made his films stand out but also influenced virtually the entire decade. I was listening to the Space album Tin Planet recently, and I’d forgotten how even British bands had this weird Tarantino/sweary crime fetish at the time. It was everywhere; everything from The Usual Suspects to Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels was perceived to be under his influence, and people like Danny Boyle were declared “the British Tarantino”. The kind of quirky character actors he loved – yer Steve Buscemis and yer Ving Rhames – starred in major blockbusters like Armageddon and Mission: Impossible. He could, it seemed, do no wrong.
Apart from maybe his acting.
Anyway – again – one thing he’s always been very good at, even in his latter years, is creating compelling and interesting multifaceted characters. Yeah, okay, sometimes he does allow them to become ciphers or archetypes – everyone in Death Proof apart from Stuntman Mike feels a bit like a nondescript voice he’s writing to move the plot somewhere, and The Hateful Eight revels so much in its cast’s darkness that it forgets to us a reason to care about any of them, and almost all his films post-Jackie Brown are too long and a bit self-indulgent – but you cannot deny not only does Tarantino create excellent characters, he then gets excellent actors to inhabit them, and often directs those actors to Oscar glory (especially as Samuel L. Jackson really should have won for Pulp Fiction).
So this list, then, is just me ranking my favourite characters from Quentin Tarantino films. It’s that simple. And maybe at some point he’ll pull his finger out and make his supposed “final” film, and who knows? We could add another character to this list. Although looking over it again, virtually everyone here is from his first three films, so, er, I dunno. Maybe not?
Ten: Pumpkin and Honey Bunny (Tim Roth and Amanda Plummer, Pulp Fiction, 1994)
Yeah, okay, a twofer again; I’m always doing this. But Pulp’s opening (and closing!) First Couple of Crime are a delightful pair to spend time with. They banter with the lived-in fashion of a pair of old marrieds; they joke and compliment each other. And they seem utterly, totally devoted to one another. Forget Cliff Booth, I wanna know what these crazy cats are up to now.
Nine: Vincent Vega (John Travolta, Pulp Fiction, 1994)
The ostensible lead of Pulp is outwardly suave and cool, but underneath he’s a bit of a screw-up with – let’s be honest – a heroin problem. But his bundle of contradictions and complexities – his ageing-seventies-rockabilly vibe that’s part Elvis and part Dog Day Afternoon – all combine to create someone who feels nuanced and engaging. Plus he’s full of interesting facts about European fast food retailers.
Eight: Mr. White (Harvey Keitel, Reservoir Dogs, 1992)
Amongst a cast of unrepentant criminals, Mr. White is the one who appears to have some genuine honour. He’s got a moral code, which is more than can be said for the murderous likes of Mr. Blonde or Nice Guy Eddie. He – fatally, tragically – sticks up for Mr. Orange, leading to the film’s infamous climactic stand-off. His face when the truth dawns and he realises the scale of the loss is heartbreaking, despite the fact that White is, basically, a bad guy and has just murdered the good guy. A terrific performance from Keitel.
Seven: Stephen (Samuel L. Jackson, Django Unchained, 2012)
Amongst Tarantino’s stable of criminals and low-lifes, Stephen is a particular piece of work. A slave who’s utterly devoted to his master, who metes out violence and racist abuse to other slaves; who is not only complicit in the horrific system that’s ensnared him, but wholly supportive of it. He’s a villain and a monster, but also tragic, and the fact Jackson wasn’t even nominated for the role is astounding; it’s arguably his best performance.
The protagonist of the two Kill Bills (Kills Bill?) is a fantastic presence; enigmatic and cool, a force to be reckoned with but also seeming open, empathetic, warm. She’s not some grumpy taciturn No Name type; she’s utterly convincing as an elite assassin, but we also root for her emotionally despite the brutality she’s meting out. There’s also a lot of comedy in the performance, Thurman nailing the balance between badass killer and goofy action star.
What I love about Butch is how his layers are slowly unpeeled. He’s a gone-to-seed corrupt boxer, paid to take a dive; but then we see he’s actually aiming at something more nuanced but a lot riskier. He has, it seems, a more romantic soul where boxing is concerned; and in his love life, too, where he’s a great big soppy mess with his girlfriend. Both his temper and his sentimentality get him into trouble, but thankfully his resourceful badassery gets him out of it; and that honour comes back into the fray when he makes the fateful decision to save Marsellus Wallace’s life. See? Layered!
Four: Mr. Pink (Steve Buscemi, Reservoir Dogs, 1992)
The face that launched a thousand memes, beloved miniature violin player Mr. Pink is Reservoir Dogs’ own Shaggy Rogers: a loveable coward who’s also the source of much comedy. Whether it’s his missive about tipping or his grumpiness over his name (“Mr. Pink sounds like Mr. Pussy”), he’s a laughable little sourpuss. The fact that his whingey ways very nearly lead to him being the only dog left alive with the diamonds is perhaps testament to his tenacity.
Three: Jackie Brown (Pam Grier, Jackie Brown, 1997)
I’ll always maintain that Jackie Brown is Tarantino’s most mature work, a slightly more stripped-back and sombre tale of ageing, regret, and second chances. Jackie herself is wonderfully human, a woman who’s lived a life but in middle-age feels she’s drifted; Grier gives her strength and dignity but also a humane sadness. Her relationship with Robert Forster’s Max Cherry is beautiful, two old(er) souls connecting as they pass in different directions.
Two: Mia Wallace (Uma Thurman, Pulp Fiction, 1994)
Mia isn’t really in Pulp all that much, but she leaves a hell of a mark. Something of a chaos agent, we’re always at a loss to her true motives, but we see so much bubbling beneath the surface. She’s a smart cookie, aware of her position and how other people view her, but unafraid to be herself. There’s a darkness, perhaps, underneath her vibrant exterior; not only the drugs but also a sense of needing to be busy, needing to have fun all the time. Still, this adds to her character, makes her interesting; and let’s face it, every moment she’s on screen is, at the very least, interesting.
One: Jules Winnfield (Samuel L. Jackson, Pulp Fiction, 1994)
Absolutely my favourite and it isn’t even close; a stunning star-making turn from an actor who might have already thought stardom had totally passed him by. Jules is cool, innately and utterly; from his hair to his boots. He gets awesome lines that Jackson chews up like tobacco and spits out like shell casings. But. But! He also gets to do an about-face, really grow and change, reflect on his gangsterhood and contemplate a path away from violence. And he does all this whilst still looking and sounding cool and giving us great dialogue in Jackson’s signature style. That’s my bad motherfu
This is one of those times when I had a fun idea but it ended up getting pushed back for various reasons so any notion of “timeliness” has gone right out the window. Because I thought of this when I was watching the ludicrously violent, surprisingly bleak, but also outrageously fun Punisher: One Last Kill one-shot doo-dah on Disney+ recently. Because Jon Bernthal’s Frank Castle (aka the Punisher) sports a particularly impressive piece of facial topiary in that.
And that got me thinking: who has the best beard in the MCU? And let’s get it out of the way right at the start: I’m not talking about Sharon Carter. I mean actual facial hair.
The first thing I had to decide was: am I sticking with beards, or are simple moustaches allowed too? And after a great deal of thought I have plumped for Proper Beards. If it’s just on the top lip, I’m not interested – sorry, Howard Stark and Thunderbolt Ross! Because there are just so many cool examples of full-face-fuzz in the Marvel Cinematic Universe that the need to go top half only didn’t really arise.
So, with no further ado, please enjoy my ranking of the best examples of chin gardens in the MCU...
Ten: Ben Grimm (The Fantastic Four: First Steps, 2025)
I might have some issues with this, both logistically and aesthetically, but I had to include it because: the Thing has a beard? Eh? How does that work? Is it just the rocks on his chin that... grow, or do they also grow... elsewhere? I feel like Marvel have opened a Pandora’s Box here and it doesn’t bear thinking about the ramifications.
Nine: T’Challa (Black Panther, 2018)
When we first meet T’Challa in Civil War, he’s sporting a very thinly-trimmed goatee. By the time he stars in his own film, he’s allowed it to fill out a bit more, and it looks a lot better. It's still a bit too fiddly-looking for my tastes, but it suits his personality: it looks modern and cool, but also gives him a bit of kingly gravitas.
Eight: Tony Stark (Iron Man, 2008)
Tony’s beard is iconic but it’s also a bit dumb. A very neatly-trimmed and angular goatee that looks like it’d be a nightmare to maintain. On the other hand, it’s stylised enough to feel like a signature, and its hard edges reflects his high-tech futurist persona, and the sheer fact that it looks like it requires daily upkeep suggests the owner of the beard is someone with the time and the money to employ a full-time beard specialist in his entourage. The fact it doesn’t seem to change much either when he’s in captivity or lost in space does imply he’s using some kind of advanced technology to keep it neat.
Seven: Odin (Thor: Ragnarok, 2017)
A powerful king like Odin needs a big bushy beard to show off his inherent kingliness, and this doesn’t disappoint. He doesn’t go the Full Gandalf, but it’s more than just a robust growth: there’s a distinct amount of work done to this, as befits his status as, like, one of the most powerful beings in the cosmos. It practically screams “king”, and to be honest it goes quite a long way to screaming “god” too. I've gone with Ragnarok because it looks just a shade longer, which I like.
Six: Alexei Shostakov (Thunderbolts*, 2025)
Ah, my beloved Red Guardian. The worst part of Thunderbolts* is right at the end when we see he’s trimmed his beard, urgh. But the frankly massive fizzog shield he’s got in this is a delight. In Black Widow, when he’s in prison, it’s wilder and woollier; here, he’s definitely keeping on top of it, but it’s still got a sense of danger to it. It's big and it may at any moment escape containment. It perfectly marries with his character: crazy, silly, but adorable.
Five: Nick Fury (Secret Invasion, 2023)
You're not going to see Secret Invasion crop up on many Top Tens, but I can’t not mention Fury’s amazing mouth merkin. On the one hand, we contrast it with his incredibly groomed, neat little beard from his earlier MCU appearances: this is the wild growth of a man off his game. It’s facial hair as character development. But on the other hand, what a beard: bold, beautiful, and bushy, and the grey adds even more gravitas to Fury’s already-impressive aura.
Four: Thor (Avengers: Endgame, 2019)
Thor has, on balance, had the best beards of the MCU. His initial look was a bit “Obi-Wan in Episode II”: too thin, tepid, pale. By the time of Ragnarok and Infinity War, it was thicker and darker, and it looked amazing. However, I’m going for his OTT Endgame look, because, well, it’s just badass. When he Thors Out at the end, his damn beard is plaited. He’s full-on superhero space Viking, and it’s incredibly cool. It's a bit of a shame he got fit, really!
Three: Frank Castle (The Punisher: One Last Kill, 2026)
The guy who inspired it all has to have a place. Frank’s beard might be unkempt and definitely born out of trauma and despair, but it still looks great. He just suits a beard, even if the character doesn’t really have one in the comics. It's dark, like his psyche, but it’s also thick and strong, because he’s a Great Big Manly Man. It’s a beautiful testament to check forestry. He appears to have shaved it off by the time of Spider-Man: Brand New Day; but, to be fair, he probably found it was hard work cleaning all the mobster blood out of it after he stabbed them to death with a biro.
Two: Ego (Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, 2017)
Broadly similar to Odin’s beard, and occupying an adjacent niche of “powerful space god”, Ego’s boy-bristles get a higher spot because it’s a fuller, rounder, more voluminous experience. This is a broad, soft, incredibly coiffed beard: big, grey, and seeming like it’d be soft to the touch. It’s the beard of an older man, for sure, but it doesn’t really give off Old Man the way Odin’s does: there’s still a suavity there, as befits a character whose whole deal is sowing his wild oats across the universe. It’s the beard we’d all like to have when we grow up, but we also have to acknowledge that only of us gets to be Kurt Russell.
One: Steve Rogers (Avengers: Infinity War, 2018)
Utterly stealing Thor’s thunder (see what I did there?) comes Captain America himself. This is, again, beard as storytelling tool: it conveys his journey from the idealistic youth of The First Avenger. He's on the run, so who has time to shave? But beards connote not just masculinity but maturity: he’s weathered, aged, grown wiser through his mistakes. He’s a leader, both of a team and also, morally, of a nation. And the darker blonde in the beard matches his darker outlook – and, indeed, his darker uniform, the gaudier colours blacked out. It's also a realistic beard: unlike some of these, you could just have this beard and you’d look great going to Asda! In a very real sense, it is America’s Beard, and I bet Scott Lang would love it.
Shout-out to Matt Murdock, who would have got a place here, but I decided he doesn’t really have a beard, he just can’t be arsed shaving. Looks good, though, Matt!
There’s a new Star War out this weekend, if you hadn’t noticed. It’s a far cry from the furore that greeted The Phantom Menace or The Force Awakens; clearly a galaxy far, far away isn’t quite the must-see destination it once was. All the same, I’m quietly excited; in fact, it’s a bit of a thrill to just be going along to see an entertaining space western without worrying about how they’re going to stick the landing or save the galaxy. I’m not anticipating any tragic deaths or shocking revelations; I just want to see Mando smoke fools and Grogu eat space macaroons.
Anyway, the touching relationship between Mr. Mando, Din Djarin, and his young ward Grogu made me realise how much of the Star Wars saga is built around parental relationships. I mean, the whole deal with the original trilogy was Luke’s search for his father; as Empire developed that switched from, I guess, avenging his father’s death/confronting his father’s killer to discovering that he was, in fact, the son of the big bad himself. The children of Darth Vader then became the lynchpin of the whole shebang, with the prequel trilogy built around the spine of Anakin Skywalker falling to the Dark Side whilst also knocking up Padme (who says men can’t multitask?). Since then we’ve had loads of parent-child dynamics in Star Wars; some good, some bad.
This, then, is a list of my favourite long time ago mums and dads. Some of them are cool; some of them are rubbish. Seriously, you’d never want to speak to them at the school gates. And because biology doesn’t mean anything, I’m looking here at parental figures; those who’ve shaped and guided windswept urchins, unofficially or otherwise adopting them. You’ll see as we go along.
It is interesting to note, however, that almost all of these die in the course of the story. I suppose it’s fitting that Star Wars is a Disney joint now; we know how much that company loves an orphan.
Oh, and when I’ve listed films below, I’m talking about the film where I think they “became” parents. It’s somewhat arbitrary I guess, but then a lot of stuff is when you discuss Star Wars. Anyway. To the parents!
Ten: Anakin Skywalker (The Empire Strikes Back, 1980)
Anakin’s whole deal could really be defined by his being a father. As soon as he discovers he has a son, his attitude and aims change: he ceases to be a mere pawn of the Emperor and seeks to be close to Luke. True, he’s still at that point an evil Sith Lord and wants Luke to join him as his apprentice, but still: he cares. And, of course, it’s the love of his son – and love for his son – that ultimately compels him to kill the Emperor and return to the light. He’s the franchise’s most important parent, but let’s be honest, trying to co-opt your kids into your creepy death cult isn’t the greatest dad move, so he’s here near the bottom of the list.
Nine: Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars, 1977)
Old Ben is interesting, because really he had two shots to raise a kid, and you could argue he cocked it up both times. He was too young, really, to be saddled with the responsibility of training Anakin; but, of course, younger men have had fatherhood thrust upon them and done a better job. He tried, bless him, but his strict interpretation of Jedi codes wouldn’t allow him to be flexible to Anakin’s needs, especially with the Dark Lord of the Sith looming. So as much as he loved Anakin, as much as he tried to shape him into a good man, we have to acknowledge his failure. And then with Luke, he was a bit better in terms of offering training and advice, but he still lacked the courage of belief to accept that peace and forgiveness was the path to redemption, and not going in swinging. So: nice guy; great beard; spotty record as a parent.
Eight: Han Solo and Leia Organa (Star Wars: The Force Awakens, 2015)
I’ve lumped them together because they’re the first actual couple we’ve encountered (by the time Anakin knew he was a parent, Padme was already dead, hence her not being counted here). I don’t blame them at all for what happened to their son, Ben; they tried their best, and even after being defeated they still believed in him, believed he could return. In fact, they both bet their lives on it, and in a way they both sacrificed themselves to help bring Ben back from the Dark Side. But still, they did raise a mass murderer, so, y’know, swings and roundabouts.
Seven: Jango Fett (Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones, 2002)
Jango is a little bit like Vader or Jabba, I guess, in that he clearly loves his son, but he’s not the most ideal parental role model. Raising little Boba, teaching him, spending time with him, is clearly a big deal for Jango; he loves having a kid, and there’s a real tenderness between the two of them. But then, he’s training Boba to be a ruthless assassin and criminal, so is that really a good thing? Plus it’s a little bit narcissistic if your child is an exact clone of yourself. I mean, make the kid ginger or something, just to differentiate.
Of all the parental types we’ve had so far, I think Qui-Gon is probably the healthiest. He sees the humanity in Anakin as well as the power and potential; he’s willing to defy the Jedi Council to teach the boy. I like to think he understands that someone as strong with the Force as Anakin needs a soft hand and close, emotional guidance, rather than the doctrine of the Jedi. His last thoughts are about Anakin’s welfare, pleading with Obi-Wan to see the good in him and help to bring it out. I do wonder what would have become of Anakin had Qui-Gon survived.
Five: Luthen Rael (Andor, 2022)
There are two sides to Luthen, and it’s the kind of dichotomy that we see in a few of these parents. On the one hand, he’s a loving and attentive parent who has a great relationship with his adoptive daughter Kleya; on the other hand, he’s a violent revolutionary not afraid of cold-blooded murder if he thinks it’s in the greater good, and from the off he instructs her in his line of rebellious work. Luthen and Kleya are fascinating, complex characters, in many ways the heart of Andor, and their relationship is beautiful to behold. They bicker and joke the way parents and adult children often do, but they are clearly very close. Their dedication to the nascent Rebellion is reinforced by the love they have for one another: when an injured Luthen risks being compromised by the Empire, Kleya goes to extreme actions to prevent that happening because she knows it’s what he’d want, even though it breaks her heart. I mean, I guess that’s good parenting?
Four: Owen and Beru Lars (Star Wars, 1977)
The Lars get a bad rap. Owen is very grumpy, constantly chiding Luke to do his chores, and refusing to let him run off to have fun with his friends or – ye gods! – join the Imperial Academy. But there’s good reason! His dad fell to the Dark Side and massacred all the Jedi! So it’s understandable they want to keep Luke on a tight leash just in case. But think about it: they took in this kid, technically their nephew although there’s barely any relationship in place there, and raised him, fed him with lots of nice blue milk, despite knowing that at any point he might (a) develop freaky powers, (b) become the subject of a galaxy-wide manhunt by an evil space wizard, or (c) turn evil himself. And what thanks do they get? They get skeletonned. I mean, where’s the justice?
Three: Luke Skywalker (Star Wars: The Last Jedi, 2017)
Now, although he never mentions them, Luke owes Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru a great debt. You could argue that their down-to-Tatooine nature gave him a great grounding which prevented him from going off the rails. But sadly this wasn’t enough when he had a go at being a parental figure himself. He lost his cool teaching Ben Solo and then went full-bore grump with Rey. But I think there’s something supremely honest about his relationship with Rey; he doesn’t view the Force quite as reverentially as Obi-Wan did, and he really tries to instil not just a scepticism but also a respect of its power in Rey. And he’s open about his failings, and desperate for her not to make his mistakes. I think given time he’d have been a fantastic father figure for her, and even in the short time they spend together she’s a wonderful influence on him. We are what they grow beyond indeed.
Two: Maarva Andor (Andor, 2022)
So after a list of relatively famous names and faces, we come to what is perhaps the most obscure character but also clearly one of the best. Maarva, the adoptive mother of Cassian Andor, is brilliantly played by Fiona Shaw, is both nurturing and educating. She takes in Cassian as a child and, with her husband Clem, raises him as their son. However, they also become increasingly radicalised, and she tries to instil in him a rebellious nature that encourages him to kick back against the Empire – as well as, presumably, teaching him all sorts of criminal chicanery. She refuses to give in, stands her ground even when old and frail, and manages to deliver a rousing call to arms from beyond the grave. She’s the perfect combination of Star Wars’ sympathetic heart and its fighting spirit.
One: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian, 2019)
How many of these parents would throw out central tenets of their faith for their children? Din Djarin, so committed to his particular fundamentalist sect of Mandalorianism, repeatedly takes his helmet off because of his love for Grogu. It’s a slow-burn but incredibly powerful relationship, father and son, as Djarin risks everything and burns everyone for the protection of his little green baby. And even though he kills people for a living, he still finds time to be nurturing and caring, trying his very best to stop little Grogu eating too many biscuits (or frog-person babies). They’re just great together, their little back-and-forth banter and the subtle grace notes of their relationship, and as Grogu grows more powerful it’s also cool to see Djarin become more of a teacher. Perhaps it was inevitable that in the week The Mandalorian and Grogu comes out in cinemas that I’d rank the Mandalorian as the best Star Wars parent, but what can we say? This is the way.
Pour one out for Jabba the Hutt, who I really wanted to include but who sadly slipped off the bottom of the list. Never mind, Jabs; you’re still a filthy space slug who deserved to get strangled to death by Princess Leia.
A few weeks ago I ranked the best henchman deaths in movies; now I’m going to turn the tables, and look at the good guys.
Man, I love an heroic death. I’m a sucker for them. You build up a hero really well, you make them all stalwart and noble, and then you pit them against insurmountable odds until they cark it in spectacular fashion. It’s totally my jam. I blame the Transformers comics I read when I was little; writer Simon Furman absolutely loved killing of characters, and the bombastic, melodramatic tone of Transformers allowed for all sorts of larger-than life sacrificial heroism. Who among us can forget Impactor, the Autobot who died twice so that all might live?
Sniff.
Anyway, that sort of thing has carried over into all the stuff I like nowadays. I mean, comics – and superhero fiction in general – is awash with this particular trope. When Superman isn’t battling Doomsday to the death, then Batman is getting Omega Sanctioned by Darkseid, or Jean Grey is leaping in front of a an alien death ray. Even when they don’t die, they’re trying to die! In the Justice League animated series, Batman tries to crash an entire space station onto the baddies, but is saved by Superman; and in the first Captain America film, before taking the serum, Steve Rogers heroically jumps on a grenade that turns out to be a dummy. These guys just love to sacrifice themselves! It’s in their DNA!
So you won’t be surprised that a movie superhero death does feature in this list. But only the one; and, indeed, the kind of high-pitched dramatic save-the-world moments that are superhero-adjacent aren’t the only things here. Because it’s not just fantastical knights or mystical space wizards who have the monopoly on heartstring-tugging sacrifice; we’ve got humble priests and professors here, too. And only one giant robot.
Now, the thing with noble sacrifices, is that generally speaking you have to die. And all these characters do, indeed, die. Some of them are only sort of dead; some of them unequivocally come back to life. But I don’t care about that; in the realm of sequels and shared universes, as one of our heroic walking corpses says, “no one’s ever really gone”. So, yes, at least one of these guys gets an entire movie about how they were brought back to life; one of them is even sorta alive again by the closing credits. But I’m letting it slide; because whether through cloning, demonic forces, or simply just being virtually indestructible, even if they sorta survived, they didn’t think they would. Every act of heroic self-sacrifice here is just that: an heroic self-sacrifice. And I also don’t think we should blame the heroes just because the writers wanted to bring them back.
Also, this was really hard. I’ll talk a bit about the also-rans at the end. But for now: witness them.
Ten: Harry Stamper (Armageddon, 1998)
Propping up the list is this supreme bit of nineties cheese. Armageddon is a fantastically daft film, one in which every emotion is dialled so high that the speakers blow, every raised eyebrow scored to high-tension strings, and not a single brow is unmolested by beautifully photographed sweat. So of course it ends in the most melodramatic of moments, Bruce Willis’ grumpy oilman refusing to allow Ben Affleck’s young doofus to die detonating the bomb that will save the world. We’d all like to shake the hand of the daughter of the bravest man, etc etc etc.
Nine: Ellen Ripley (Alien3, 1992)
Lower down than maybe it could have been because it’s a tiny bit of a cheat: Ripley is dying anyway, a xenomorph queen embryo growing in her chest. It’s a fitting and symbolic end for the character after fighting these beasties across the universe and back again. But it’s her final act of defiance – throwing herself into molten steel to deny Weyland-Yutani the opportunity to get their hands on a baby alien – that cements her place. Holding the xenomorph to her chest as she falls to their collective doom is a great visual, and – all the other weirdness about Alien3 notwithstanding – a cool place to end. Er, until they didn’t.
Eight: Tony Stark (Avengers: Endgame, 2019)
Ah, my beloved MCU: where would we be without you? Probably one of the most iconic deaths of recent cinematic history, this is one of those neat pieces of long-form writing that knits together multiple threads – Tony’s ego, his protective streak, his technological nous – and gives us an epic finale as he uses his suit to steal the infinity stones and get rid of Thanos once and for all. His statement – “I am Iron Man” – obviously repeating his lines from the first MCU movie, a declaration that really set the nascent Marvel universe apart from the very secret-identity-focuses worlds of past superhero movies; and Pepper’s “you can rest now” adds to the tragic sauce.
Seven: Gordon Zellaby (Village of the Damned, 1960)
Okay, bit of a niche one perhaps, that’ll need a wee bit of explaining. A creepy, slow-burn sci-fi horror that follows a group of otherworldly children born to every woman in the village; as they grow their mental powers increase and it’s clear they’re up to no good. Enter schoolteacher Gordon Zellaby (George Sanders), who is attempting to dispose of the kids with a bomb hidden in his briefcase. They turn their telepathic gaze upon him, and to try to block them out he envisions a brick wall. We have moments of tension as we see the wall in his mind, cracking and straining as the kids try to force their way through, until eventually the bomb goes off and kills everyone – Zellaby included.
Six: Father Damien Karras (The Exorcist, 1973)
Another classic horror death! This one is really cool because not only is it a supreme act of self-sacrifice but also completes Father Karras’ arc as he reconciles and recovers his faith. At the climax of the exorcism of Regan MacNeil, he basically entices the demon Pazuzu into his own body, thus freeing Regan of her possession. At which point, he promptly hurls himself out of the nearest window and down a flight of incredibly painful-looking concrete steps, killing himself and thus preventing the Pazuzu within him from wreaking any more havoc. His willingness to both accept his lapsing faith and also risk the wrath of a demon elevates his sacrifice.
Five: Luke Skywalker (Star Wars: The Last Jedi, 2017)
I’m going there! I am! Despite what some would have you believe, Luke’s death in The Last Jedi is supremely heroic, noble, and a stunning display of powers. The whole film leads you to believe that Luke will, indeed, stride forth and rejoin the fight, wielding his lightsaber and facing down the First Order; meanwhile, Luke keeps trying to tell us that confronting violence with violence is not always the way, and that he can’t physically stop the First Order. So when he does step out onto that field to fight Kylo Ren, we think it’s a classic duel; but in reality he’s astrally projecting himself across the entire universe, fooling everyone into thinking he’s really there. The strain from his endeavours causes him to expire and rejoin the Force. It’s a brilliant ending to the movie, and to Luke; and, of course, the main reason he’s doing this is to give the Resistance time to escape. It’s a last-ditch suicide play to not only inspire people, to show them the way, but basically just to save his friends’ lives. And his final “See you round, kid,” to Kylo is a terrific last line.
Four: The Iron Giant (The Iron Giant, 1999)
Here we are, the best Superman film of all time. Yeah, I know: the Giant doesn’t actually die here, because the last thing we see is all the various cogs and bolts and screws and things slowly rebuilding themselves somewhere in the Arctic. But it doesn’t make his sacrifice less noble. With a nuclear missile about to kill everyone he cares about, he instantly flies up to intercept it; but what gets me – what makes this one of the greatest heroic deaths – is his reasoning. He embraces his freedom, eschewing his creation – he was a weapon – and choosing who he wants to be. And – this is the kicker – based on everything he’s been shown on Earth, who does he want to be? “Superman”. See, it’s not just about how heroic the Giant is; it’s about how heroic Superman is. The character so good, even a totally unrelated film manages to somehow be about him.
Three: Bing Bong (Inside Out, 2016)
Of all of these deaths, this one is the really tragic one; the one that really makes me cry ugly tears. Bing Bong, the silly, adorable little elephant-thingie with a cute song, an imaginary friend created by a tiny Riley, is about to be utterly, permanently forgotten by the now-adolescent Riley. But knowing that what Riley really needs is her Joy back – and her core memories – he sacrifices himself to allow Joy to escape forgetfulness, diving off the back of his super-powered kart to give Joy the lift she needs to get away. And thus he fades, destined to be forgotten, but not for a second regretting his choice; “take her to the moon for me”. It’s the way this act of heroism represents the growth of children – how in order to become the adults they need to be, they are forced to forget some of the things that made them children – that makes this one really sting; and, of course, Joy is the parent who will always remember the child, long after she’s grown up. Sorry, is someone cutting onions nearby…?
Two: Spock (Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, 1982)
We’re really hitting the icons now, aren’t we? For a long time this was the gold standard of cinematic death scenes. There’s a colossal weight behind it; this is Spock, for Christ’s sake. With the Enterprise crippled, he undertakes his own Kobayashi Maru and makes the logical decision to repair the engines despite knowing he’ll suffer a lethal dose of radiation. It’s only logical, after all; the needs of the many and all that. But Nimoy and Shatner put so much into their final scene, from Spock’s little tug to straighten is uniform, to Kirk not pressing the intercom properly, to their plaintive Vulcan greeting across the glass. “I am, and always will be, your friend,” he says, and he might as well be saying it to all of us. And thus a titan of sci-fi passes; an icon breathes his last. Of all the souls we have encountered in our travels, his was the most… hhhuman. And then he comes back to life, natch.
One: Boromir (The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, 2001)
If you’re going to do an heroic death, this is the way. Do I need to spell it out? Yes, Boromir done cocked up by trying to take the Ring; but that’s coz it was working its evil magic! Once it’s out of his system he comes to his senses, and by God, does he prove himself, facing down an army of Uruk-Hai single-handed, batting them away like flies. The sense of weight and grandeur given to this scene is immense, as he’s peppered with arrows, and time and again he rises, understanding the gravity of his task. You can see in his eyes that he knows it’s a failure, that he knows he’s already dead: but he refuses to stop, getting up again and again to fight off more Orcs. He absolutely must keep going until all the strength leaves his body. And, of course, he’s ultimately successful: yes, the hobbits are briefly captured, but his actions lead to the Ring going on its true course, and the hobbits engaging the help of the Ents. He kept his honour, he looked cool doing it, and it gave Sean Bean – king of the cinematic death scene – the most heroic of send-offs. Blow your horn, fellas.
Yeah, so like I said, this was an incredibly hard list to finalise, even after I’d worked out all my little concessions and rules. Duncan Idaho from Dune was here for the longest time, but he just kept slipping further and further down; his demise a little bit too similar to Boromir’s, perhaps. I really wanted to include Nux from Fury Road because of his ark and how beautiful it is, and also because his death is the death of the film’s iconic War Rig too (I did at least paraphrase his last words right at the top). And then there were the likes of Leon, or Terminator 2’s Miles Dyson (who just missed out because he was kinda already dead meat before he decided to stay behind and set off the explosion). Yondu! Holdo! Arguably the entire cast of The Wild Bunch!
What did I say at the start? People just love sacrificing themselves. We are, indeed, Groot.
It’s May, in case you hadn’t noticed, which means over in Hollywoodland it’s officially Summer Blockbuster season. We’ve already had a few breakout hits this year, from the truly excellent Project Hail Mary to, er, well, I haven’t actually seen The Super Mario Galaxy Movie, so let’s move right along to the recent Michael, which, er…
Anyway, films that make a lot of money are great, aren’t they? And I’d argue the season really gets underway this month with the release of The Mandalorian and Grogu, the first Star Wars film since the universally adored/potentially-franchise-destroying The Rise of Skywalker (delete as appropriate) in 2019. A brand new Star Wars film! I’m excited. Aren’t you excited? No? Oh well. It doesn’t matter, because Hollywood will keep delivering great big stonking, expensive films for us, custom-engineered to give us a good time. And, of course, make a lot of money.
I’ve been “into” film for over thirty years now, reading about the industry and watching a lot of things at the pictures. And it’s been fun in that time as Hollywood has gone from tentatively giving a success one diminishing-returns sequel, to chasing the platonic ideal of a “trilogy”, to trying to establish a huge cinematic universe. Truly, no ambition is too great. And, y’know, I’m being snarky, but I was really excited for everything from Men in Black II to The Matrix Revolutions to Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. Genuinely! So it makes sense that if there’s something great out there, we’d like a bit more. Sure, okay, every now and again the industry will put the cart before the horse and we end up with Universal’s “Dark Universe” of non-existent interconnected monster movies. But I watched Mike & Nick & Nick & Alice this week, and – no spoilers – it could have a sequel very handily, even though the director has insisted that wasn’t his intention, and I’m not going to lie, I’d be quite into it if they did make Mike & Nick & Nick & Nick & Alice or whatever.
So amongst all the Shanghai Knights and Meet the Little Fockers it’s often quite surprising when there’s a great big movie – especially a good movie, especially a successful good movie – that doesn’t get a sequel. Now, I’m definitely not saying we need to sequelise everything: it’s actually very refreshing to just get a one-and-done story. And, of course, if they’d just stopped at Terminator 2: Judgement Day we’d all have been much better off (apart from Schwarzenegger’s accountant, presumably). But sometimes, like a say, it’s surprising just to get the one instalment of what could have been a franchise. And – hey – in some cases, it’s not for want of trying!
This week, then, to kick off blockbuster season, I’m taking a look back to the films of the (semi-recent) past, and thinking: what could have had a sequel? I’m trying to be realistic here and think of films that had a great premise that naturally lent itself to more stories; I like Close Encounters of the Third Kind, but I’m not really sure what a sequel to that would look like (er, unless it ends up looking like Disclosure Day, I guess). But very often there’s a cool premise or interesting characters, and you would be up for another trip in that world.
Now, I understand why some films don’t get sequels. A couple of these films, for instance, were considered disappointments – at least financially – at the time of their release. And that’s discounting whether any of the talent involved would want another go around anyway. there are other films, not on this list, that I’d be interested to see another version of – let’s say Wild Wild West, for instance – but I’m not certain I’d like an actual sequel because the first one was, well, a bit rubbish. Or it’s got, like, Johnny Depp in it or something. Also, I’ve tried to think of films that aren’t really a part of some other media already; you might want a sequel to Dredd or The Rocketeer, but those were pre-existing works before the movies came out, and already have a long life elsewhere. These were all – as far as I’m aware – original screenplays. I almost had Edge of Tomorrow on here, for instance, until I remembered it’s based on a comic (which I own!).
Anyway, that’s enough of my waffle. Let’s get on with it. We’ve only got one shot at this…
Ten: Timecop (1994)
A genuinely enjoyable, if very daft, sci-fi action film that centres on a terrific premise: officers who police the timeline, preventing manipulation of the past and chronal chicanery. The groundwork, and the rules, are all established here; and at the time of release, Jean Claude Van Damme was certainly a big enough star to carry a sequel. I mean, considering how many Universal Soldier movies they made, with and without JCVD, it’s surprising we never got Timecop 2. But it’s languishing at the bottom of this list because technically they did make a very short-lived TV show spin-off. But let’s face it, a movie would have been better.
Nine: Inception (2010)
I think it says something for the power of Christopher Nolan that even sixteen years ago he had the clout to make a massive, original sci-fi blockbuster that grossed nearly a billion dollars… and seemingly no one wanted to sequelise it. The setup is ripe for continuing adventures, too: a team of high-tech criminals who invade people’s dreams. The film spells out all the logic, and how that can lead to exciting set-pieces such as the famous rotating corridor sequence. Now, yes, it does have a famously enigmatic ending that I would not want messed with; but you could definitely have had more fun with the premise or the world. But this film is at nine because, really, we should celebrate these one-off, individual ideas more; I wouldn’t want anyone but Nolan really having a shot at Inception 2: Dream a Little Bigger, Darling, and it’s kinda nice at the end of the day that we just had this one spin of the top. But if I could plant an idea in Chris’ head…
Eight: Commando (1985)
When I started writing this list I was a little bit worried it would just degenerate into a bunch of Sly and Arnie films from the eighties; those guys made a lot of – frankly pretty cool – one-off action movies. Nevertheless, Commando feels like it could have been the beginnings almost of a Rambo-style franchise for Big Arn. His John Matrix is just the right mix of badass cool and preposterous silliness; he gets cool one-liners after he kills people (“He’s dead tired”; “I let him go”); and, yes, there is outrageous and over-the-top action. A Commando sequel was, apparently, in the works for a while, and Arnold has even suggested it still might appear; but it would have been cool to see Matrix once more dragged out of retirement with Chenny forty years ago.
Seven: Event Horizon (1997)
It doesn’t have to be big, explosive action movies that deserved a sequel. Horror movies often start big, long-running franchises; and Paul W.S. Anderson’s has the benefit of being both an intensely creepy, demonic horror film of both supernatural and psychological chills, as well as a cool sci-fi with great production design, modelwork, and – yes – some big explodey bits. Famously a critical and commercial flop on release, on the one hand it’s unsurprising it never got a sequel; and, indeed, it has a great ending that doesn’t need unpicking. But a follow-up featuring the return of the Event Horizon? I’m kinda surprised they didn’t even try it as a straight-to-DVD movie in the mid-noughties.
Six: The Last Boy Scout (1991)
This is another one that could have been said to underperform, hence no sequel. But another big Shane Black-written action-buddy-comedy – Lethal Weapon – ended up with three sequels (and Mel’s threatening a fifth), so it’s a shame this delightful, knockabout, hilarious little film only had one go. Bruce Willis is slobby, grumpy, and very funny; Damon Wayans is cool; and it does some good work undercutting its own badassedness (Willis begins the film learning his wife’s having an affair). I’d have loved to see them trading barbs and punches one more time.
Five: The Fifth Element (1997)
Oh, hey, welcome back, Bruce. I’m gonna deal with the elephant in the room right away and say I’m not really in any rush to see another Luc Besson film; but this film had such a cool, unique sense of style and identity that I do think it’s a shame we only got to experience it once. It’s hard to imagine now, but for the longest time we didn’t get complete sci-fi worlds: this film came out before the Star Wars prequels, and gridlocked hovercars in a futuristic cityscape was mind-blowing, visually, before we even got to the really trippy stuff (like Gary Oldman’s accent). The film does feel rather wrapped up, plot-wise, to be honest, but that never really stopped the likes of Star Wars, so I’m sure some other space-nasty could see Corben Dallas and Leeloo venture out once more. Not now though; let’s leave it be. Circa 2000? Yeah, I’d have been down.
Four: True Lies (1994)
Yep, Arnold’s back. This spy movie is, in many ways, something of a Bond parody: it’s certainly very funny, with the playful back-and-forth between Arnie and Jamie Lee Curtis, inept terrorists, and Tom Arnold providing wisecracks. Yeah, okay, there are some dodgy, dated bits; but there was certainly enough here to suggest further adventures for Harry and Helen Tasker, especially with an ending that basically establishes her as his new partner. And it’s not as if James Cameron is against sequels! And this film was a huge hit at the time, as well. Oh, and I am aware that after claiming these were all, to the best of my knowledge, “original” films, True Lies is a remake. But, y’know, the sequel would have been original!
Three: Galaxy Quest (1999)
A delightful sci-fi comedy that, like a lot of these films now I come to think about it, succeeds on the strength of its characters. It’s also another film that ends with our heroes off on more continuing adventures: they’ve got their TV show back, and there’s a whole galaxy out there that they’ve just prodded a stick at. Who knows what other weird aliens could come crawling out of the cosmos? Basically, another, er, quest through the galaxy would totally have made sense, and it’s not as if they’re having to pay a Schwarzenegger-sized salary to anybody. Incidentally, Tim Allen had this and Toy Story 2 in the same year, which is an incredible achievement for anybody, let alone Tim Allen.
Two: The Rock (1996)
In a way, The Rock is very one-and-done. I mean, how many times do terrorists take over Alcatraz and you need to team up a mild-mannered chemist with a sexagenarian secret agent to break into an unbreakable prison? It’s a fantastic high concept for a fantastic action movie, but it doesn’t lend itself to further adventures. On the other hand, the film ends with Nicolas Cage’s Stanley Goodspeed in possession of a sensitive government data; one could imagine him going on the run and needing Sean Connery’s help to get the goons off his back. Or maybe John Spencer tracks down Connery’s supposedly-deceased John Mason and Nic has to run and warn him? Whatever, it’s the characters – and the slightly-OTT world they inhabited – that were the real stars; and there was enough there to allow for a further bite of the apple. And y’know what? Even though some of the principles are sadly no longer with us, I’d still get excited if I heard Cage was gonna tell someone they were the Rocket Man one last time.
One: Demolition Man (1993)
This one has it all: a fresh and distinctive sci-fi setting; the sort of procedural status quo that allows for new adventures; a fresh hook – defrosted super-criminals! – that can sustain more than one story; great characters; and big action superstar from the eighties. It’s shocking, really, that we never got more than one Demolition Man. What became of the future after the death of Dr. Cocteau? Who else was put in the cryo-prison? What’s the rest of America like if San Andreas was so seemingly perfect? And, most importantly, how do the three seashells work? Okay, yeah, maybe some of the quirkier “perfect future” edges would have been sanded down; and, again, it’s nice to have this one shining gem of a mid-nineties action movie. But unlike the future worlds of Blade Runner or RoboCop or The Terminator, we’ve only really visited San Andreas once, and on balance that’s a bit of a shame. Even if Stallone in Judge Dredd was almost a photo negative reproduction, it still wasn’t quite the same. Be well, John Spartan. Be well.
Y’know, if nothing else, this has been a bit of a nice retrospective, nostalgic look back at films mostly from the nineties. I did flirt with newer films – Baby Driver, for instance – but their very “newness” (relatively speaking) counted against them; if Edgar Wright announced Baby Driver 2: Baby’s Day Out, we wouldn’t be all that surprised, whereas Beyond the Event Horizon would be a bit of a shock. All the same, looking back at these films, and how excitedly I invented sequels in my mind, was quite a fun exercise. We must do this again sometime!
Where would a bad guy be without a henchman? Nowhere, that’s where; you need good henchman to do all the dirty work for you. You need disposable foot soldiers for the car chases, fist fights, assassination attempts, “go see what that noise was” scenarios, kidnappings, and all sorts besides. And let’s face it: the main role of a henchman is to die before you do.
Most action movies follow a template of a hero is, for whatever reason, an underdog against more serious foes; there’s quite often a one-man-army element to them, whether it’s Commando literally having Big Arn mow down a hacienda’s worth of heavily-armed cartel members, or Bruce Willis methodically picking off terrorists-cum-thieves one by one in Die Hard. Generally, the more impressive your adversary, the bigger the army they’ll send after you: witness (no pun intended) Immortan Joe’s War Boys chasing down Furiosa and Max, or even the Penguin’s gang of circus freaks in Batman Returns.
All these goons give our heroes ample opportunity to dispatch foes in varied and interesting ways. Sometimes they’ll be gunned down willy-nilly; sometimes they’ll perish in the course of doing business, their car careering off the road, their plane being shot down. Sometimes – if they’re very lucky – they’ll get a nice one-on-one fight with Our Hero before being brutally dispatched. And sometimes the method of dispatch will be so interesting, so exotic, so repulsive, or so hilarious, that it’ll one day end up on a list like this.
Now, I don’t necessarily think a “henchman” has to be someone working for the big bad. Yeah, okay, that’s a technicality, but I think in filmic terms it can also refer to basically a supporting villain whose only purpose is to be killed on the way to the main villain. So I’d count, say, the various “stalkers” in The Running Man (1987 variant) or the different fighters in Enter the Dragon, or whatever. Basically, if I think they’re a step on the ladder to the big bad, I’m counting them as a henchman; although I think – for want of a better word – “lieutenants” like Count Dooku or General Grievous are perhaps a bit too big to be a mere henchman. Does that make sense? I do like to overthink these things.
That’s all there is to it, then: a list of cool ways in which supporting villains were offed in the movies. From the sublime to the ridiculous to the disgusting. Get your hilarious quips ready, because we’re about to kill a lot of folk.
Ten: The “I hate working here” guy (Iron Man 3, 2013)
So we’re kicking things off with a fantastic scene that is also a bit of a cheat – hence it’s placement at number ten. Because technically this is one guy who doesn’t die. After a protracted, hilarious, and ingeniously-choreographed action sequence where Tony Stark is trying to assemble his modular armour whilst fighting off a room of goons – flying with only one boot, shooting with one glove, that sort of thing – he gets down to one last bloke aiming a gun at him. Said final guy immediately throws his hands in the air to surrender, saying “I hate working here, they’re so weird.” Comedy gold!
Nine: The washing machine (Ready or Not: Here I Come, 2026)
I was a bit worried this was recency bias talking, but Samara Weaving’s Grace kills a lot of people across these two films, and this one is the stand-out, gross-out, hilarious death. Grace and her sister Faith (Kathryn Newton) manage to briefly overpower their pursuer Viraj (Nadeem Umar-Khitab) and shove him into a large industrial washing machine. It’s a comic delight as he screams amidst the boiling water, and the slow shift in the sisters’ expressions from elation at the victory to realising they’ve just killed a man in a horrible way is hilarious. And then, Grace has to search his burned and mangled body, gipping as she peels clothes away from runny flesh. Like I said, hilarious!
Eight: The cigarette (The Last Boy Scout, 1992)
Going slightly more serious – although sticking in the same Shane Black world as Iron Man 3 – is this underrated Bruce Willis joint. As PI Joe Hallenbeck, he finds himself captured by a couple of henchmen, sitting on a nice chair in a plush mansion awaiting the boss. One of the goons - Chet (Kim Coates) - toys with him, punching Joe whenever he asks for a cigarette; “do that again and I’ll kill ya,” says Joe. Chet – clearly never having seen Die Hard – hits him again, at which point Joe whacks him in the face and shoves his nose through his brain (a move which I feel was more famous in the nineties than it is now). The sequence is sudden and brutal but also – whisper it – pretty funny.
Seven: The book (John Wick Chapter 3: Parabellum, 2019)
So we’re getting to a point of order here which is: what is a “henchman”? Because a lot of the people John Wick seems to fight tend to be individual, rival hitman rather than the hired lackeys of some Big Bad. And so, in Chapter 3, quite early doors, the recently-excommunicado Johnathan comes across a frankly colossal adversary in a library – Ernest, played by Serbian basketballer Boban Marjanović – and what ensues is a brutal close-quarters beating. In the end, the Baba Yaga is victorious when he uses a chuffing huge book to shatter Ernest’s jaw, leaving it hanging loose and wobbly on his face, before breaking the guy’s neck. It’s a nasty business but an iconic moment.
Six: The train fight (From Russia With Love, 1963)
These have all tended to be either humorous or kinda cool so far. But this tense, gritty dust-up is far more down-to-earth; memorable more for its brutality and the physical presence of Connery’s Bond and Robert Shaw as his Soviet counterpart Red Grant. Finally meeting in a secluded train compartment, they batter the heck out of each other in extreme close quarters, before Grant gets a garrotte around his opponent’s neck. But Bond has a hidden knife and stabs Grant, turning the tables and garrotting the Russian. For a film over sixty years old, it’s incredibly violent and realistic, and reinforces the brutality that’s often present in Bond.
Five: The pencil trick (The Dark Knight, 2008)
Nobody said the person doing the henchman-slaying had to be the hero. In this unforgettable full scale intro to Heath Ledger’s Joker. In his flamboyant but demented style, he makes a pencil disappear by ramming it through the eye socket of a gangster’s bodyguard. It’s a shocking and rather squirmy moment, but showcases how much of a threat he really can be; and his slightly lacklustre flourish of “ta-dah!” afterwards is the icing on the evil cake. My only real quibble is: how on earth did he get the pencil to stick to the table in the first place?
Four: The corkscrews (The Equalizer, 2014)
My favourite Equalizer beat-down is actually when Denzel’s Robert McCall takes down a room of misogynistic frat boys in part 2, but technically none of them die so I can’t count that. But this scene, which is the first time we see his particular skillset and single-minded, logistical approach to problems. He makes his way through a room of Russian mobsters, using whatever is at hand – glasses, bottles, other people’s guns – until he finally faces off with some final guy whilst wielding two corkscrews. He repeatedly stabs the guy – with corkscrews – until he sticks one through his chin and we can see it in his mouth. It’s totally great.
Three: The toxic waste guy (RoboCop, 1988)
We’re into the gold standard now, guys, and this is one of the most iconic deaths of the eighties – hell, possibly of all cinema. In the final conflict of the film, badguy goon Emil, played by Paul McCrane (E.R.’s Dr. Romano!), crashes his van into a vat of toxic waste, rolling out of the back doors amidst a deluge of steaming liquid. He emerges all mutated and melty, which seems horrible enough; but then Clarence Boddicker (Kurtwood Smith) hits him with a car, at which point he explodes like a water balloon filled with raw meat, his body sloshing over the windscreen in the world’s worst car wash. I cannot overstate the impact this scene had on the children who watched the film, far too young, in the eighties.
Two: The steamroller (Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery, 1997)
Okay, we’re back in the proper comedy here, and this one is so funny that it makes it almost to the top of the list. In a fantastic parody of the entire concept of henchman deaths, we first of all have an hilarious send-up of the kill itself – Austin driving an incredibly slow-moving steamroller at a henchman, neither one managing to move despite the glacial pace. And then, going deeper and denser, after he dies we cut to his family – his wife and stepson – receiving the news of his death, in a scene wonderfully framed in the iconography of suburban Americana. Doubling down in such a ridiculously silly fashion on the trope really reinforces the gag; and it’s such a good one, that Mike Myers does it twice. Mutated sea bass, anyone?
One: The swordsman AND Propeller Nazi (Raiders of the Lost Ark, 1981)
Once again I cheat. Because how can I pick between these two? The scene where Indy faces the swordsman is one of the most iconic in all of cinema. It’s so perfectly framed and timed: the crowd parting to reveal the swordsman, his impressive twirling, Indy’s knackered and disinterested shooting of him. It’s a moment of sublime and rather silly comedy, and could easily be number one on its own. But later on, he has a protracted and bruising fist-fight with a large, shirtless, moustachioed Nazi whilst Marion tries to stop a propeller plane from taking off. Now, Harrison Ford can take a punch on camera, so the fight is full of his lovely little comic grace notes of pain, surprise, and resolve; but it’s all capped off when the Nazi himself is shocked to discover the propellers are upon him, and as Indy cowers, the plane is lavishly splashed with blood. And once again I am forced to say: this is very, very funny.
I’m a little bit worried how many of these were incredibly violent and I was left saying “no, really, this is the funny kind of violent”. Oh well.
Man, there were some I was really disappointed to lose. Bob Hoskins making the weasels laugh to death in Roger Rabbit was so nearly in there! I wanted to include Hot Rod driving over Kickback’s head in Transformers the Movie. I don’t have a kill from Die Hard, Mission, or Bourne. And for my money, Marvin from Pulp Fiction counts as a henchman too. What can I say? Horrendous violence. But still – fun!
I feel like I’m a little behind the curve on Stranger Things. The first three seasons I watched more-or-less as they dropped: big, bold sci-fi/fantasy series weren’t ten-a-penny a decade ago, and the well of retro design or Stephen King homages didn’t feel quite as dry. And right from the start, it had enough of The X-Files about it to scratch my itch for trippy puzzle-box narratives and government conspiracies. But the longer it went on, the longer it went on, and when you’ve got two kids to put to bed, finding the time to watch a two and a half hour episode of a TV series was hard going. I mean, come on: it’s an episode of a TV series, not the latest Scorsese film! If you’re skirting three hours, just make it two episodes! Hell, make it three! Netflix won’t mind!
Anyway, for a while I was happy to stick it on the backburner, especially as I was way more invested in the likes of WandaVision or Andor (or, if I’m honest, Only Murders in the Building). But! Fate (and time) has a habit of catching up to you, and before long my own demadogs (affectionate) were demanding to watch Stranger Things themselves. And, lo, it became so: as a whole family, we watched the entire saga from beginning to end.
I’ve been a bit snarky over those last two paragraphs but I do actually really like Stranger Things. Yeah, it goes on a bit, and it’s somewhat derivative, but it’s damn good fun, really well-produced, has some gnarly moments, and – crucially – a set of characters that you can really get behind (even if, arguably, there are too many for the show to deal with come the finale). And so, with little in the way of fuss and fanfare, we come to this: me listing my favourite characters from the show. Will it surprise you? Will it be incredibly obvious? Will we all lament the fact that I wanted to include Murray but he just slipped off the bottom?
And, of course, there’s a great bit of (accidental!) synergy in that this week saw the debut of the spin-off animated show Tales from ‘85, which I’m sure I’ll be watching at some point. I mean, the episodes can’t be that long, right?
Ten: Joyce Byers (Winona Ryder)
Joyce is kind of the beating heart of the first season. Ryder gives the stand-out performance of the entire series as an increasingly harried mother who seems to all concerned as if she’s going insane with mania over the disappearance – and alleged death – of her son. But, obviously, we know she’s right, and if truth be told her light doesn’t shine quite as bright after that. She’s certainly very funny, and the strength of spirit remains when she is (for example) breaking Hopper out of a Russian prison; but her force and tenacity in the early years is what earns her a place on this list.
Nine: Eddie Munson (Joseph Quinn)
Johnny Storm himself only has a brief tenure in Hawkins, but he burns very brightly (sorrynotsorry). He’s open-hearted and good-natured despite his rough exterior; a real Nice Guy Eddie. He’s so enthusiastic and positive towards his friends that it makes the tragedy of his “Satanic Panic” storyline all the stronger. And in a group that comprises wiseguys, badasses, and at least one actual superhero, his fear and reluctance coupled with his eventual quiet heroism stands out.
Eight: Will Byers (Noah Schnapp)
Overcoming not just a relentlessly traumatic storyline – that sees him abducted, possessed, separated from his friends, and traversing an incredibly difficult emotional minefield – but also the worst haircut in ten years’ worth of programming, Will is a star. Comfortably one of the best performances from the young cast, despite the repeated horrors inflicted upon him he doesn’t seem like a victim or a martyr; rather, his inner strength frequently shines through. The delicate, tragic, and ultimately victorious way he navigates his sexuality is also rather well done, not least because of Schnapp’s earnest, truthful performance.
Seven: Jane “Eleven” Hopper (Millie Bobby Brown)
Probably some will find it surprising that El is so far down this list; hopefully my enthusiasm for the other six will explain why! But all the same, she’s still a cool character, transitioning from the almost alien-esque outsider to a regular teenager to a truly heroic power player across five seasons. She is one of the most honest and heartfelt characters, wearing her emotions as openly as her nosebleeds, and her relationships with – in particular – Mike and Hopper are endearing, amusing, and often moving. Plus, she’s just really cool when she unleashes her powers.
Six: Max Mayfield (Sadie Sink)
Coming in hot with a snarky, spiky persona, Max is immediately interesting, and how she mixes up the dynamic of the boys creates a lot of humour and drama. But underneath the tomboy exterior there’s a lot of intense drama, first with her brother, and then as one of Vecna’s victims. Throughout it all she maintains her fantastic, caustic, sarcastic demeanour, and Sink’s performance is one of the strongest in the show. Also: arguably the best love story in Stranger Things?
Five: Nancy Wheeler (Natalia Dyer)
The sweet, good-natured, nice girl A-student felt like a horror movie cliché, but – like Laurie Strode in Halloween – Nancy revealed hidden depths. Her determination grows in each season as she takes on everything from Demogorgons to misogynistic co-workers, ultimately transitioning into a crackshot marksman and leather-clad warrior; what we call in the business “pulling a Sarah Connor”. In the midst of this are her complicated and nuanced relationships with Steve and Jonathan, offering a nice romantic spine to the whole saga.
Four: Robin Buckley (Maya Hawke)
Coming right out swinging as one of the funniest characters in the show, Robin is fast-talking and just a joy whenever she’s on screen. Someone who can put Steve in his place and also call him up on his privilege, she’s also a chaos engine who absolutely does not have her shit together. The situations she’s forced into – from the comedic joy of impersonating a college student to the straightlaced tension of evacuating kidnapped kids – are ripe with opportunities for humour and pathos, Hawke bringing every shade out of the character. Also, it’s cool to get an LGBTQ+ character out there, and her relationship with Will in the later seasons offers more opportunity to explore those issues in the wider, crazier, more fantastical context.
Three: Steve Harrington (Joe Keery)
A genuine twist in the first season was Steve’s journey from being an absolute douche to being something of a hero. We instantly distrust him, he’s clearly manipulative and only out for his own enjoyment, and we celebrate when Jonathan beats the crap out of him. But he has the humility to come back from it; he genuinely cares for Nancy, and his realisation that he’s blown it hangs heavy over him. Portraying that shift, and that painful self-reflection, is a great thing for Keery. And, amidst all that, he’s a comic high-water mark, especially his banter and bonding with the younger kids. And he has great hair.
Two: Dustin Henderson (Gaten Matarazzo)
Amidst all the younger cohort – and I do feel bad I couldn’t fit them all in – it’s Dustin who stands out. This isn’t just because, arguably, Matarazzo puts in the best overall performance; it’s because Dustin is always interesting, a grade-A uber-nerd who has a fact for every occasion, and is basically the team’s Egon Spengler. He starts out as kind of the “other friend”, seemingly not as close or as invested but just wanting to be along for the ride, but then makes himself invaluable both with his brain and his heart. His friendships with Eddie and Steve are beautiful to behold, as his rebellious streak, most clearly delineated in the final episode’s graduation scene. Of all the characters, he’s probably the one I most want to follow up on: what’s he been doing for the last forty years?
One: Jim Hopper (David Harbour)
Look, I guess at the end of the day, I just feel seen. A paunchy middle-aged man who’s got a huge heart but is preternaturally grumpy and has a penchant for facial hair. He’s even called David H, for heaven’s sake. The tragedy underpinning Hopper – not just the loss of his first daughter, but his troubled youth and trauma in Vietnam – brings us a tough old sod who’s emotionally crippled but desperate to love and be loved. This brings out both his brutality and his over-protective streak, but you can’t deny the strength of his feelings for Joyce and El, or how much he’s willing to sacrifice to save them. He’s kind of the series’ Logan, but he’s not really the best there is at what he does because he does get kinda beaten up a lot.
Top Ten Moments in the Marvel Cinematic Universe – Phase 2026
Every four years, about mid-April, I rank my favourite MCU moments. I’ve been doing it for a while now; it’s my quad-annual tradition. I think four years is a good amount of time to take stock and reflect on the moments that have faded from view, somewhat, as well as celebrate new moments that have occurred in the meantime.
It’s interesting to look back and see what has bubbled more to the surface, or stuck around. There are some obvious ones. But I think I tend to gravitate to the emotional stuff – Steve being selfless, Peter being Steve-ish, that sort of thing. The funnier moments have dropped off a little, such as Nick Fury’s hilarious gravestone or Korg yelling “piss off, ghost!” to Loki. Similarly, I’d say that for the most part the many excellent action beats have also dripped away – the Avengers “splash panel” moments, Bruce always being angry, that sort of thing. There were a few similar scenes that I did consider here – Rocket and Yondu’s blood-drenched escape from the Ravagers, the bus fight in Shang-Chi, the Hawkeye car chase, or even – to bring us bang up to date – Bullseye stopping for a milkshake in Daredevil: Born Again. But, softy that I am, I just kept going back to the soppy bits.
Who’d have thought I’d focus on the heroism in a series about superheroes.
There are quite a lot of major Marvel moments I’ve not included. I mean, there’s no snap, for instance; no “I am Iron Man”. There’s only one death, and even then it’s semi-debatable. But what there is, at the end of the day, is a series of amazing moments from a terrific series of films and TV programmes, that generally speaking are all about how cool Steve Rogers is, even if the moment itself doesn’t feature Steve Rogers. It is, very much, the toast of Croydon.
Oh, and needless to say: SPOILERS!
Ten: Memory (The Marvels, 2023)
The MCU is often very funny, so it stands to reason there’d be at least one joke in the Top Ten. And, just pipping “there’s only one Blade” at the post, is this incredible needle drop from The Marvels (the most criminally underrated film in the franchise!). the three-way juxtaposition of horror (as the SWORD crew are, essentially, hunted down and eaten by aliens), comedy (the creatures eating them are adorable kittens), and an incongruous but on-the-nose musical choice (Babs singing “Memory” from Cats) all adds up to an incredible, ridiculous, hilarious scene that also manages to make total story sense.
Nine: Agatha All Along (WandaVision, “Breaking the Fourth Wall”, 2021)
There are a few big twists and surprise reveals in the MCU – we’ll get to another one of them later. But few are as joyous as the unveiling of Agatha Harkness in WandaVision. The show was a glorious puzzle box, teasing greater mysteries, and whilst the few red herrings did disappoint, the discovery that a bitchy, manipulative, murderous witch was behind a lot of what was happening was a worthy and entertaining sleight of hand. Especially because it was delivered in such a fantastic, meta, fourth-wall-breaking way, and with a delightful performance from Kathryn Hahn.
Eight: A Good Man (Captain America: The First Avenger, 2011)
The more time passes, the more I fall in love with Chris Evans’ debut as Cap. Here, in an intimate and quiet moment, the film’s philosophy – and the core of Steve Rogers’ character – is outlined by Stanley Tucci’s Dr. Erskine. It’s a great exposition dump, in a beautifully delivered monologue by Tucci, but also his declaration that Steve is a “good man” gets to the core of the whole endeavour. That Steve himself seems to have internalised it is a nice recurring touch: he passes the shield onto Sam Wilson by calling him a “good man” too.
Seven: The Catch (Spider-Man: No Way Home, 2021)
I wanted to celebrate so much about No Way Home’s perfect use of the multiverse: blending nostalgic fan-service with character building and story heft. It makes sense for the three Peters to join forces, but it’s also a wonderful meta event to see the history of Spider-Man share the screen. But in trying to single out one moment within the finale, I’ve chosen Andrew Garfield’s Spider-Man catching a falling MJ. It’s incredible how this brief cameo manages to shine a new light on the disappointing Amazing Spider-Man 2 and that film’s contentious ending, and give a degree of closure to Garfield’s Peter. Plus it’s just a great action sequence in its own right.
Loki’s arc over the course of the MCU is extraordinary, taking in full-on villainy, grudging attempts at repentance, and actual death. Loki – the series – really unpicks and unravels the God of Mischief, as it tears him apart, showing multiple versions of himself, and he has to reckon with his small place in the entirety of the multiverse. And, after coming to the conclusion that he doesn’t want any kind of throne after all, he sacrifices himself to save reality, becoming – essentially – the cornerstone of reality itself. The scene where he marches into the maelstrom and seizes the strands of reality, turning them into the branches of Yggrdasil the World Tree, is deeply moving and epic in scope, and gives Loki both a glorious, heroic send-off whilst keeping him around just in case.
Five: The Man Behind the Mandarin (Iron Man 3, 2013)
I mentioned twists before, and this one is the doozy of the whole franchise. Masterfully played and exceptionally well-hidden, the rug-pull that the supposed villain of the film isn’t who we thought is made all the funnier with the juxtaposition of Ben Kingsley’s Trevor Slattery and the persona of the Mandarin. It’s a shock, it’s hilarious, it gave us one of the greatest original characters in the MCU – a comic gem who has, brilliantly, returned over and over again. The fact that it seems to really annoy some people is incredibly odd.
Four: Groot’s Sacrifice (Guardians of the Galaxy, 2014)
There are a lot of memorable deaths in the MCU, and some of them have even stuck! From Quicksilver to Iron Man to Loki to Loki to Loki to… you get the picture. But the most emotional is this, Groot’s great sacrifice play, encasing his new found family with his own body to protect them from a horrific crash. And his reason? “We are Groot”. And y’know what? We are. We really are. And it kinda stuck! Because the other Groot isn’t really this Groot, it’s more like his son or something. I guess. If you squint.
Three: Steve Passes the Test (Captain America: The First Avenger, 2011)
Imagine how good a film would have to be for me to feature it twice! And yet here we are: Cap’s back. This was one of the first gasp-inducing emotional moments for me in the MCU, where Steve Rogers shows his true colours by leaping onto a grenade during training, his first instinct being to sacrifice himself for everyone else. It was, of course, a dummy grenade, but the inherent goodness and heroism of Steve is evident to everyone. Even grumpy old Tommy Lee Jones. Also: if you watch back, you’ll see that Peggy Carter makes a step towards the grenade as well. Great characterisation.
Two: Hammer Time (Avengers: Endgame, 2019)
One of the benefits of a very long-running serial like the MCU is you can seed story elements and then have them pay off big time. The scene in Age of Ultron where everyone is failing to pick up Thor’s hammer is a comic gem, especially the fact that Steve seems to manage to make it wobble a tiny bit. And here, when all hope is lost, we see the hammer rise from the ground, to be wielded by Captain America himself. Did he know all along he could do it? Did he find the inner strength at the right moment? Thor himself isn’t that surprised. But let me tell you, when the hammer flew back into Cap’s hand, the cinema I was in exploded. It’s the greatest moment of audience exultation I’ve ever experienced. Electric.
One: When Peter Met Tony (Captain America: Civil War, 2016)
I feel like I’ve wanged on about this – one of my favourite scenes in any movie – over and over again. But here it is: Peter perfectly encapsulates what I think it means to be a superhero. “If you can do the things I can, and you don’t, then when the bad things happen, they happen because of you.” Basically, it’s a sense of duty: but also it’s a death sentence, because it’s the sort of thinking that has you jumping on grenades. What’s brilliant isn’t just how this reflects Peter’s character, but that Peter is here throwing Steve’s argument back at Tony without realising: that Steve is against the Accords because they might prevent him doing something when bad things happen. Tony, of course, is breaking all his own rules and several laws by binging Spider-Man into the fight. So as well as being a funny scene that nails the characters (and it’s the first time Peter Parker was in the MCU!), it’s also the beating heart of the movie, and its inherent tragedy. See? They’re all about Steve Rogers, even when they’re not.
Ah, I love the MCU. Anyway, I’m off out to get all the cheeseburgers that I want. Oh no! Too soon!
Top Ten MCU TV Characters Who Should Appear in the Movies
I had a whole other list planned for this week, but I’ve been incredibly busy and haven’t had time to write, so I’m retreating back to my safe space and doing another Marvel list. This one is – semi-relevantly – inspired by the second season of Daredevil: Born Again and Spider-Man: Brand New Day this summer, so there’s that I guess. It’ll probably make sense.
From quite early in the MCU’s history, there have been TV programmes; but they were always kept at something of a remove. The likes of Agents of SHIELD or the Netflix shows centred on the “Defenders” may have purported to be set in the MCU at the beginning, but they barely played lip service to continuity as they went on, and – especially SHIELD – became borderline impossible to reconcile with the movies. When Disney+ launched, we were promised “proper” in-continuity TV shows; so far, however, links between the film and TV arms of the Marvel empire have proved thin on the ground.
The biggest “crossover” – if you can call it that – is probably Ms. Marvel in The Marvels, or Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness drawing heavily on WandaVision for its plot (and Wanda’s motivations). Beyond that, there have really just been the odd cameos – Wunmi Mosaku’s B-15 popping up in Deadpool & Wolverine, or Kate Bishop in the end credit sting of The Marvels. And now, with the Punisher appearing (and getting his potty mouth webbed up good) in the latest Spider-Man film, now felt like as good a time as any to look back at the telly and think wistfully about which characters would be good in a filum.
Because I think they’re missing a trick here. Sure, the continuity is probably convoluted enough without requiring everyone to watch three separate multi-part TV series with arcs and everything just to ensure that the latest Ant-Man movie makes sense. But some of the TV characters have been extraordinary, in series that have been excellent. It’d be cool either to see these stories carried on in an IMAX format, or even just the characters themselves given their due in a bigger ensemble.
And that’s all there is to it this week. Characters from Marvel TV that I’d like to see in Marvel movies. Oh, a couple of rules: I’m very specifically sticking to the series that I know are in continuity with the rest of the MCU. This discounts Agents of SHIELD as that does seem to me to be set in an alternate universe. So basically it’s all the Disney+ shows and I guess the Netflix ones too (because Born Again certainly seems to imply that all those series are now definitively in continuity). And I’m going to be very strict and say, if they have appeared in a film, then they can’t count for this list. So that excludes Kate Bishop and Daredevil, even though their appearances thus far have been far too brief, and they should really be part of the Avengers by now (seriously, Marvel, just give Hailee Steinfeld a chair already! You know she deserves it!)
For the longest time, the running gag was “Mephisto confirmed?!” Everything was pinned on Marvel’s de facto Devil, so when he finally appeared in the guise of Sacha Baron Cohen – complete with London accent, calling people a twat – it was a tiny joyous revelation. I’ve no idea what’ll happen with Ironheart herself, especially given she had something of a cliffhanger ending, but surely this can’t be the last time a character crosses swords with Mephisto. Doctor Doom has a history in Hell, so could be crop up secretly in Doomsday? Or fight Doctor Strange? Or we could do an adaptation of Spider-Man’s One More Day! Actually, no, scrap that one.
Yes, yes, I know: Secret Invasion is the show that dare not speak its name. I would argue the only genuine, proper dud in the MCU canon, it nevertheless gave us something great to grab onto in the shape of Olivia Colman. Almost operating like a British Nick Fury – or perhaps closer to Julia Louis-Dreyfus’ Val – she’s a government player who rubs shoulders with superheroes, and has motives that may or may not be pure. She’d be terrific in a future Captain Britain movie, but regardless I feel like it was too good a performance to leave in the gutter.
Eight: Luke Cage (Mike Colter, Luke Cage, 2016):
The Netflix shows had some structural problems (basically all of them were too long and went round in circles) but for the most part had spot-on casting. Colter is excellent as Cage, bringing not just the required toughness, but an innate sense of the character’s gravitas and place in history. Now that his stablemates Murdock and Jones have started cropping up in the MCU proper, I think it’s time for Power Man himself to make a return. Where’s my money, honey?
Seven: Billy Maximoff (Joe Locke, Agatha All Along, 2024):
I really hope the ending of Agatha wasn’t the last we see of Billy in the MCU, because he wasn’t just a cool character in a great show, but there’s so much potential there with Wiccan as a fully-fledged superhero. Ideally, we’d see him reunited with his mother Wanda – and given what happens in The Multiverse of Madness, I feel like any return of the Scarlet Witch should likewise happen on the big screen. More than that, though, the whole Young Avengers as a concept – or whatever they end up calling them – is something Marvel should grasp with both hands and make a movie of, pronto.
The MCU definitely needs more gay witches, that’s what I say. Hahn’s performance is a never-ending delight, and although her status still feels very open-ended right now, it’d be great to see her given a bigger canvas for her spooky brand of bitchiness and tragic selfishness. Tormenting a serious character such as Doctor Strange would offer endless comedy, and also an opportunity to show how strong Agatha still is. If Billy were to come back on the big screen rather than small, then his spectral guide should absolutely return alongside him.
Five: Mobius M. Mobius (Owen Wilson, Loki, 2021):
Possibly not the last Loki character on the list, Wilson gives the show – and, potentially, the whole MCU – a whole lot of heart as the tragicomic Mobius. His friendship with Loki is one of the key relationships in the whole show, and his slow acceptance of the truth of the TVA is a driving part of the series. His current status is a bit up-in-the-air – is he still part of the TVA seen in Deadpool? – so I feel he could pop up anyway to offer good-natured advice, a friendly ear, and a slice of pie. Not to be confused with Morbius, who should not be part of the MCU.
Moon Knight’s story was fascinating, and even if the series didn’t quite nail the premise, it was still a bold attempt to deal with mental illness in a superhero setting. Isaac is superb as the multiple personalities on display, and the trippy interpretation of Egyptian mythology was a cool supernatural twist not commonly seen in the MCU. I think Marc/Steven/Jake being part of a team-up of some kind would add all sorts of interesting wrinkles and story potential, and Moon Knight’s power set would likewise set him apart somewhat.
Three: She-Hulk (Tatiana Maslany, She-Hulk: Attorney at Law, 2022):
Maslany was done dirty, in my view, She-Hulk getting a very unfair kicking for being something a bit different. I reckon, to be honest, that doing such an expensive CG effect in a relatively small-scale sitcom is perhaps too tall an undertaking; but cropping up as, maybe, a sub for her big brother, a far funnier and sunnier Hulk? That’d be great, especially as Jennifer Walters would be really excited to be asked to be on a team. Recreating the comics where she’s part of the Fantastic Four would be fun; but she’d also fit in well with fellow West Coast hero Ant-Man and his brand of silliness.
Two: Jessica Jones (Krysten Ritter, Jessica Jones, 2015):
Ritter’s hard-bitten ‘tec is going to pop back up in Daredevil, but it’d be good to see her flinging people through walls in your local cinema too. It’s a great performance, full of sarcastic humour, and she makes a fantastic addition to a team – especially if there’s a more straight-arrow hero in the midst (that’s why she’s so good set against Daredevil). I’d love a street-level New York story that teamed her up with other heroes – Ms. Marvel? Kate Bishop? Spider-Man?! – so she could be cranky and a bit wise and then throw somebody through a wall.
One: Sylvie (Sopha Di Martino, Loki, 2021):
I really don’t feel enough has been made of a more vengefully-inclined genderbent alternate version of the God of Mischief (to be fair, I don’t even think enough was made of her in Loki season two). Di Martino gives a tremendous performance, full of anger but also a ton of heart. It would have been really cool to see her teaming up with Thor, as they could both come to terms with what they’ve lost; surrogate siblings from different dimensions. I have a funny feeling Secret Wars will spell the end of the story for a lot of these characters, so it’d be nice if one of the next two Avengers movies gave her a chance to shine on the big screen.
The Marvel Cinematic Universe doesn’t really need any defending. They’re probably coming in for more stick nowadays than they ever have, and their fortunes are certainly a lot more variable than they were five years ago. But, I mean, come on: it’s the MCU. They’ve made literally billions and billions of dollars – in some cases, from one film. The trailer for Spider-Man: Brand New Day broke all kinds of YouTube records. They’ve more or less defined pop culture in movies for the last decade. Even if they were now a busted flush (and I think both Spidey and Avengers: Doomsday will end up sitting fairly high in the box office chart come 2027) their overall legacy is pretty secure. I mean, nobody really did what they did before they did it, and almost everyone else who’s tried has failed. So they were definitely doing something right.
Even so, some of their films come in for a kicking critically or commercially. And I don’t always think it’s fair. Whilst they don’t always hit it out the park, most of their weaker moments are more just mediocre – disappointing, or perhaps predictable. The only thing they’ve ever made that feels like a total mess and I’d be happy to see retconned is Secret Invasion (a terrible waste of an excellent premise, to say nothing of an excellent cast – will we ever see Olivia Colman’s wonderful Sonya again?). So most of their “bad” films I think have very good points – and in a lot of cases, they’re great films! Genuinely really good! Honestly!
So this list is really just me finding another excuse to talk about the MCU for a bit, and also sing the praises of some wrongfully maligned movies. That’s it. Assemble, or whatever.
Ten: Iron Man 3 (2013)
Only at number ten by virtue of it actually being a legitimate success that grossed over a billion dollars, and is very highly thought of by a fairly large segment of the audience. But there has been, ever since release, a vocal contingent of “fans” who hate it, possibly because it has the gall to wrongfoot the audience and play fast and loose with comic history. But make no bones about it: this film is excellent, a really funny and clever buddy movie that strips away the effects-heavy Iron Man schtick to just give us a peak-form Downey cracking wise and taking down the bad guys whilst always on the back foot. The Mandarin reveal is the greatest twist – and one of the funniest moments – in MCU history, and is responsible for the solid gold nugget that is Trevor Slattery. And the film gave us War Machine Rocks With An X.
Nine: Captain America: Brave New World (2025)
I’m not going to pretend that Brave New World is on a par with Iron Man 3 – they’re opposite ends of the MCU ranking, really – but this film still came in for an undue bit of stick. I think its messy production might have contributed to its overall quality – the scars of extensive rewrites and reshoots are all over it – but it still has something to offer. It’s shot really well, like a conspiracy thriller, and there’s a nugget of a good concept with Isaiah Bradley and the “first Black Captain America”. Harrison Ford is excellent as the duplicitous but beleaguered President Ross, and it has quite a lot of nice other-MCU linkage.
Eight: The Incredible Hulk (2008)
Two Hulk-adjacent movies in a row? Who’d of thunk? For a long time this was pegged as maybe Marvel’s worst film, but taken on its own merits it’s got a lot of nice ideas. In many ways it feels more like an update of the eighties TV show, with Banner on the run, and the gimmick of his heartrate signposting his conversion is a nice visual motif if a little corny. Deepening the Hulk “lore” is quite good, with many cameos from other comic characters, but the plot is woolly and the CG smack-a-thon in its climax has aged very poorly. Still: not bad!
Seven: Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness (2022)
It’s probably fair that with the bombastic title and return of Sam Raimi to superhero filmmaking, the end result is a bit disappointing, especially considering the rather abrupt heel turn of Wanda. However, the film is still really enjoyable, with some terrific visuals and sequences, such as the opening monster attack in New York and the incredible “music battle”. And some of the creepier Scarlet Witch set pieces are very Raimi. Plus we get a terrific Bruce Campbell cameo, and some of grisliest deaths in the MCU. So not the heights of Spider-Man, but still great fun.
Six: Thor: The Dark World (2013)
Another film that I think suffers from production shenanigans, and an absolute waste of Christopher Eccleston as the baddie. Where it shines, though, is in the characterisation, with the relationships between Thor and Jane, and especially Thor and Loki, proving to be the film’s heart and soul. It’s also proven to be an incredibly important lynchpin film for the MCU as a whole, incredibly important for the characters’ arcs going forward. And whilst it’s often a muddy and drab film, the climax is well-staged and exciting.
Five: Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015)
After the lofty heights of the first Avengers – the massive success of which I think took everybody a little bit by surprise – Age of Ultron was, perhaps inevitably, bound to disappoint. And it’s very true that it’s a messy film that struggles to give most of the cast anything significant to do. But it’s one of those things where it’s only bad in comparison to the other three, five-star, Avengers films. Because this is still an exciting, action-packed movie with the core team on the back foot the whole time, full of great sequences (the opening battle! The Hulk fight! Everything on the farm!) and some genuinely funny moments (it’s the best Hawkeye movie). And although I’d argue that Ultron is rather poorly defined as a character (and frankly an ugly design), the performance by James Spader is excellent.
Four: Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania (2023)
I’m genuinely baffled by the overwhelming negativity this film received, because my only real criticism is that by becoming a big, effects-driven cosmic-adjacent adventure, it dispenses with a lot of what made the Ant-Man films feel unique. On its own merits, it’s still an incredibly fun, boppy, frequently-hilarious film, that really leans into the weirdness of its anything-goes setting (living buildings! MODOK! Drink the ooze!). I can accept the visuals themselves are, perhaps, an acquired taste, but I found them to be fine given its totally otherworldly setting. It’s perhaps a shame that it’s a narrative dead the within the MCU, but as grand, bonkers sci-fi adventures go, it’s a blast.
Three: Eternals (2021)
An odd duck, certainly, and one that for lots of reasons feels a bit divorced from the MCU as a whole. But it benefits from this: it’s a long, lyrical, epoch-spanning adventure that tells what is it its heart the story of a family. It’s a lot more esoteric than most Marvel movies, but that’s to its credit: it feels incredibly authored. I think its odd rhythms, its atypical story beats, and, frankly, the languorous way it spins its tale, all counted against it. But it’s probably why I like the film as much as I do: less superhero adventure, more dysfunctional deity drama. In fact, its biggest sin is how it set up multiple threads that have been mostly ignored by the wider MCU story arc.
Two: Thor: Love and Thunder (2022)
The hate this film received from some quarters on release is mind-boggling. I get that it goes instantly for a particular tone and pretty much sticks with it for the whole film. If you’re not on board with its inherent silliness, then you’re not going to have a good time. But it’s not just funny – and it is funny, it’s incredibly funny – it’s really well-staged. The action set-pieces are dramatic and impressive, from the opening fight against the chicken biker aliens, to the stunning monochrome battle, and climactic showdown featuring a bevvy of super-powered children. It’s got a terrific sense of visual style, and feels very much pulled from the comics. Beyond all that, it’s genuinely emotional: not only Thor and Jane’s relationship, but the final reveal of what “Love and Thunder” means is a bit of a gut-punch. I genuinely love it. It’s brilliant. So you can all shut up.
One: The Marvels (2023)
Marvel’s lowest-grossing movie, and one that was not just maligned but also totally overlooked. There are some genuine reasons for this, as well as some pretty horrible ones, but everyone who skipped it missed a gem: this is a fantastic film. The central trio shine on an intergalactic road movie, each coming to terms with one another and having a ton of fun along the way. There are inventive action scenes, a musical number, genuine intentional hilarity, and the greatest needle drop in MCU history. And as Kamala Kahn, Iman Vellani is a gem, right up there with Downy as Tony Stark in the MCU casting echelon. Seriously, it’s great.
Yeah, I know it’s Easter, but I couldn’t be arsed thinking of something eggy. Maybe next year.
Sometimes it’s fun when a brand new topic comes crashing along and knocks all your plans out of whack. Sometimes it leads to a fun list! Like today! This list was fun. Didn’t need a lot of research. Just me pouring my thoughts out my earhole and onto a Word document. Joy!
So, anyway, in a rather surprising bit of news, we discovered this week that Stephen Colbert – off of the telly in America – is currently co-writing a brand-new Lord of the Rings film, which is going to be made properly with the involvement of the likes of Peter Jackson. We knew that Warner Bros wanted more LOTR stuff; Andy Serkis is pulling double duty (or is that triple, what with the Smeagol of it all?) by acting in and directing The Hunt for Gollum, which comes out Christmas 2027. So the fact that there’s going to be another attempt to mine the bits between the lines of Tolkien isn’t that surprising. But it’s amusing and somewhat pleasing that Colbert – who, obviously, is a gifted performer and writer himself – is going to be contributing to the screenplay, as he is famously a massive fan of the books and a huge nerd for all things Middle-earth.
The other big surprise, though, was that this new film – currently titled The Shadow of the Past – is going to take as its “inspiration” the chapters of the book not adapted in the films of 25 years ago; principally, it seems, the four hobbits’ encounters with barrow-wights as they leave the Shire (the film also serves as a bit of a sequel, with some of the story set fourteen years after LOTR – presumably so they can get Sean Astin and co back without too much makeup; although if they’re also playing their 2001-vintage selves in flashback, then perhaps some hefty computers will be involved too). Now, this section of the book is famous (infamous?) for the inclusion of one character in particular; and, frankly, I just don’t see how you can adapt that bit without him. He’s the yellow-booted oliphaunt in the room. I am, of course, talking about the one and only Tom Bombadil.
Bombadil is an enigma, because he seems to have stepped out of a different story altogether (which is partly true, as Tolkien had written stories about him prior to LOTR). On the one hand, he’s almost fairytale-esque in his gambolling about and his sing-song ring-a-dillo speech patterns. He’s a funny, weird character, in a way far less serious than even the hobbits at their most befuddled-Edwardian-gentleman extreme. However, he’s also deeply uncanny and surreal, and there are elements to him both big and small that hint at a far denser, possibly darker origin. For one, he is said to be “oldest and fatherless”, with the implication that he was on Middle-earth before anything else. Given that the elves are supposed to be, literally, the first life created by Middle-earth’s god Eru Ilúvatar, the existence of something even older raises questions. Is he one of the Valar or the Maiar, the angelic orders of beings that also include the likes of Sauron and Gandalf? Or is he literally God Himself? He describes himself as “The Master” at one point, which I don’t think is a reference to Doctor Who. The fact that the One Ring not only has no power over him, but that he seems to have some degree of power over it, suggests that he’s far, far stronger than almost any character we meet. So what is he? Why are his songs stronger songs? What’s up with his weird wife Goldberry? And why oh why is his jacket blue and his boots yellow?
Look, this sort of combination of whimsy and deep, dark, uncanny weirdness is exactly up my street. So the fact that we might be getting a film in which old Tom plays a major role-a-dillo is incredibly exciting to me. Now, Tom was recently brought to the screen by Rory Kinnear in the latest season of Amazon’s The Rings of Power – but I’ve not watched that, as I was a bit lukewarm on the first season. Kinnear is a good choice, though. I’m sure his portrayal is a good one. But who else could do it?
And that’s what this list is. Ten actors who I think carry the necessary mixture of gravitas, good humour, and the ability to sing about plants and talk in a weird fashion without it seeming annoying (although let’s be honest, there’s no guarantee that it won’t end up annoying regardless). There’s not much more for me to add, so let’s get on with it: ten actors who I think would be quite good at playing Tom Bombadillo, bright blue his jacket is, and his boots are yellow.
Ten: Lenny Henry
Lenny is just the right amount of sentimental and exuberant, and he has a good way with a weird noise. He’s only propping up the list, in fact, because he’s already had a bite of the Middle-earth cherry and it feels perhaps unfair: he was a hobbit-esque character in The Rings of Power. But that made him do a slightly dodgy accent, here I’d want him to stick to his native Dudley.
Nine: Hugh Jackman
Jackman is ebullient; he’s a natural born showman (some would say the greatest). He’s a song-and-dance man at heart, so you can totally imagine him troll-a-lolling his heart out. And he’s ageing into a nice weathered look that would suit the character. But is he too much of a heartthrob movie star? Would we see Tom, or Wolverine?
Eight: Jonathan Bailey
Bombadil is supposed to be old, obviously, but he’s not necessarily supposed to look old. Most old people in Middle-earth don’t look at old as they are! So maybe getting a younger actor could put across the youthful energy of the character. Bailey is a great actor who we know can do the charm and handle the songs, and I’m pretty sure he could bring the necessary depth and ambiguity too.
Seven: Jared Harris
Harris, compared to others on this list, isn’t quite as exuberant. However, what he can portray is an intense tightness of character: he can be exquisitely good. Being given free rein to really show someone who is just totally nice and will look after you could be absolutely amazing. And he can do wise with ease. It would be a delight to see him cut loose in this role.
Six: Ewan McGregor
McGregor can be the show-stopping song and dance man; he can be, we all know, a man’s man, ladies’ man, man about town. And he can be as learned as any Jedi Knight you care to mention. But what he’d also bring is a bit of ambiguity; he’s dabbled with the dark side as much as the light. And he possesses an innate sexy kind of cheekiness. Not that I’ve ever thought of Tom Bombadil as sexy. But I guess Goldberry sees something in him. Maybe it’s the beard.
Five: Paterson Joseph
I feel like Wonka showed the world how great Joseph been be and more films should take their lead. He’s got such a twinkle, and he’s such a sexy comedian; but he’s also a terrific actor who can bring the nuance and the hints of darkness the character requires. And we know he can do the old soft shoe – again, look at Wonka.
Four: Brendan Gleeson
There are few actors who can be terrifying and cuddly at exactly the same time but Gleeson is one of them. He can be the hardass who knows the darkness of the universe, but he can also be the kindest soul you ever met. We know once he’s on the scene the hobbits will be safe from evil trees or whatever it is that barrow-wights actually are; he’s got oodles of charm so you can see why Goldberry feel is with him; and if someone told you he might very well be god you’d probably believe them.
Three: Robert Downey Jr.
I’ve tried to steer clear of Americans in this list. I feel the accents shouldn’t wander too far from Tolkien, really. But Downey is pretty good with accents: look at his weird Richard Burton thing he does in Dolittle. Anyway, it should be obvious that RDJ can do everything this role requires: the capering, the singing, the paternal qualities, the hints of darkness, the eccentricity, the ambiguity. And if the two main hobbits can be American, maybe old Tom can too?
Two: Michael Sheen
Sheen, in many ways, seems an obvious choice. He’s obviously a wonderful actor capable of great range, but beyond that he has such an incredible, sonorous voice. All the trill-a-rillos will sound amazing in his dulcet tones. He’s got the twinkle, he’s got the edge, he’s effortlessly charming. And I feel like he’s due another big Hollywood fantasy role. Underworld was a while ago now.
One: Stephen Graham
I think Graham might be the best actor of his generation, which should be evident. He seems capable of turning his hand to just about anything. I think he’s got the right physicality for the role: standing next to the likes of Elijah Wood, I think he’d just look like Tom Bombadil if he was in a bright blue jacket. But Graham is such a distinctly humane actor, and I feel his ability to convey the heart and soul of Bombadil would be second to none. He’d bring across the warmth and heart of an uncanny, otherworldly creature in such a beautiful way. And whilst he’s obviously a big figure in film – he’s worked with Scorsese! – I don’t think he’s anchored a blockbuster in quite this way before, and it would be lovely to see. Plus I’d want him to keep his natural accent. I don’t think we’ve gone Scouse in Middle-earth yet and it’s well past time.
