Don't be fooled by appearances. In Hawaii, some of the most powerful people look like bums and stuntmen.

The Descendants

(2011)

An odyssey of self-discovery has been a feature of Alexander Payne's previous two films, and it now feels like it has become a fully-fledged running theme. Not that his central characters necessarily come to some point of profound realisation, but they do take (physical) journeys that leave them more aware and accepting. Payne has a propensity for making deceptively palatable films, where the subject matter (as here) doesn't appear instantly amenable. Perhaps it's just the deceptively loose, easy-going style he infuses his stories with.

George Clooney's somewhat absent father has to fill the void when his wife falls into a coma. Complicating matters is the news (from the older of his two daughters) that his wife was having an affair. Gorgeous George doesn't have a huge amount of work to do to make his character appealing, as he's essential a nice guy if somewhat out of touch. But he does have the gift of making a compelling performance seem effortless.

Great supporting work too from the likes of Beau Bridges, Robert Forster and judy Greer. It's the younger performers who stand out the most, though. Amara Miller and Shailene Woodley don't hit a bum note as his daughters, while Nick Krause steals the film as space cadet Sid. You start off wanting to thump him as much as Clooney does, but by the end you've most definitely seen his better nature. Payne's next film features the great Bruce Dern in the lead, so at least there won't be another seven-year gap between projects.

****

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Mondo bizarro. No offence man, but you’re in way over your head.

The X-Files 8.7: Via Negativa I wasn’t as down on the last couple of seasons of The X-Files as most seemed to be. For me, the mythology arc walked off a cliff somewhere around the first movie, with only the occasional glimmer of something worthwhile after that. So the fact that the show was tripping over itself with super soldiers and Mulder’s abduction/his and Scully’s baby (although we all now know it wasn’t, sheesh ), anything to stretch itself beyond breaking point in the vain hope viewers would carry on dangling, didn’t really make much odds. Of course, it finally snapped with the wretched main arc when the show returned, although the writing was truly on the wall with Season 9 finale The Truth . For the most part, though, I found 8 and 9 more watchable than, say 5 or 7. They came up with their fair share of engaging standalones, one of which I remembered to be Via Negativa .

You know what I sometimes wish? I sometimes wish I were ordinary like you. Ordinary and dead like all the others.

Séance on a Wet Afternoon (1964) (SPOILERS) Bryan Forbes’ adaptation of Mark McShane’s 1961’s novel has been much acclaimed. It boasts a distinctive storyline and effective performances from its leads, accompanied by effective black-and-white cinematography from Gerry Turpin and a suitably atmospheric score from John Barry. I’m not sure Forbes makes the most of the material, however, as he underlines Séance on a Wet Afternoon ’s inherently theatrical qualities at the expense of its filmic potential.

A ship is the finest nursery in the world.

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You’re a disgrace, sir... Weren’t you at Harrow?

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Duffy. That old tangerine hipster.

Duffy (1968) (SPOILERS) It’s appropriate that James Coburn’s title character is repeatedly referred to as an old hipster in Robert Parrish’s movie, as that seemed to be precisely the niche Coburn was carving out for himself in the mid to late 60s, no sooner had Our Man Flint made him a star. He could be found partaking in jaundiced commentary on sexual liberation in Candy, falling headlong into counter culture in The President’s Analyst , and leading it in Duffy . He might have been two decades older than its primary adherents, but he was, to repeat an oft-used phrase here, very groovy. If only Duffy were too.

My Doggett would have called that crazy.

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I tell you, it saw me! The hanged man’s asphyx saw me!

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The best thing in the world for the inside of a man or a woman is the outside of a horse.

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Just wait. They’ll start listing side effects like the credits at the end of a movie.

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