Meticulously crafted but also ponderous and predictable, James Cameron's 1989 deep-sea close-encounter epic reaffirms one of the oldest first principles of cinema: everything moves a lot more slowly underwater. Ed Harris and Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio, as formerly married petroleum engineers who still have some "issues" to work out, are drafted to assist a gung-ho Navy SEAL (Michael Biehn) with a top- secret recovery operation: a nuclear sub has been ambushed and sunk, under mysterious circumstances, in some of the deepest waters on earth, and the petro-techies have the only submersible craft capable of diving down that far. Every image and every performance is painstakingly sharp and detailed (and the computerised water creatures are lovely) but the movie's lumbering pace is ultimately lethal. It's the audience that ends up feeling waterlogged. For a guy who likes guns as much as Cameron (his next film after all, was the body-count masterpiece Terminator 2: Judgment Day), it's interesting that the moral balance here is weighted heavily in favour of the can-do engineers; the military types are end-justifies-the-means amoralists, just like the weasely government bureaucrats in Aliens. -David Chute James Cameron's 1989 aquatic epic The Abyss was, quite literally, a watershed in the annals of filmmaking: not only was it the first (and only) movie to be shot almost entirely underwater, in the largest tank ever used for a movie set, and to use live dialogue from specially designed headsets, it also pushed forward the boundaries of computer animation in one gigantic leap. The famous water tentacle sequence is now regarded as the defining moment when CGI came of age; ironically perhaps, its very success has ensured that the punishing realism of the setting, which is the best thing about the movie, is likely never to be attempted again. But the impressive technical aspects aside, is the movie any good? Granted it contains any number of striking moments, from forcing a rat to breathe liquid (it really works, apparently) to resurrecting a drowned Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio. But the story is a slim one for the running time, especially in the extended Special Edition version which plays almost half an hour longer than the theatrical cut and contains a completely excised subplot featuring much too much heavy-handed moralising: "How all the world can stop fighting and learn to get along with each other", by James Cameron esq. All you need is love, apparently. [+]

Meticulously crafted but also ponderous and predictable, James Cameron's 1989 deep-sea close-encounter epic reaffirms one of the oldest first principles of cinema: everything moves a lot more slowly underwater. Ed Harris and Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio, as formerly married petroleum engineers who still have some "issues" to work out, are drafted to assist a gung-ho Navy SEAL (Michael Biehn) with a top- secret recovery operation: a nuclear sub has been ambushed and sunk, under mysterious circumstances, in some of the deepest waters on earth, and the petro-techies have the only submersible craft capable of diving down that far. Every image and every performance is painstakingly sharp and detailed (and the computerised water creatures are lovely) but the movie's lumbering pace is ultimately lethal. It's the audience that ends up feeling waterlogged. For a guy who likes guns as much as Cameron (his next film after all, was the body-count masterpiece Terminator 2: Judgment Day), it's interesting that the moral balance here is weighted heavily in favour of the can-do engineers; the military types are end-justifies-the-means amoralists, just like the weasely government bureaucrats in Aliens. -David Chute James Cameron's 1989 aquatic epic The Abyss was, quite literally, a watershed in the annals of filmmaking: not only was it the first (and only) movie to be shot almost entirely underwater, in the largest tank ever used for a movie set, and to use live dialogue from specially designed headsets, it also pushed forward the boundaries of computer animation in one gigantic leap. The famous water tentacle sequence is now regarded as the defining moment when CGI came of age; ironically perhaps, its very success has ensured that the punishing realism of the setting, which is the best thing about the movie, is likely never to be attempted again. But the impressive technical aspects aside, is the movie any good? Granted it contains any number of striking moments, from forcing a rat to breathe liquid (it really works, apparently) to resurrecting a drowned Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio. But the story is a slim one for the running time, especially in the extended Special Edition version which plays almost half an hour longer than the theatrical cut and contains a completely excised subplot featuring much too much heavy-handed moralising: "How all the world can stop fighting and learn to get along with each other", by James Cameron esq. All you need is love, apparently. [+]

Alicia Silverstone was so hot after the success of Clueless that she formed her own production company at the age of 19, and Excess Baggage was the first movie she chose as a starring vehicle. Silverstone plays Emily, a spoiled rich girl who has everything but her father's affection, so she decides to stage her own kidnapping to see if dad will come to his senses and appreciate the daughter he so blindly disregards. But when Emily locks herself in the trunk of her own car, she's surprised when the car is stolen by Vincent (Benicio Del Toro, from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas), a professional car thief whose partner (Harry Connick Jr. ) has misplaced 200,000 dollars of the Mob's money. Christopher Walken stars as Emily's "Uncle Ray," who's hot on her trail as she goes on the lam with Vincent. It's not the meandering plot that matters so much as the funny dialogue between Silverstone and Del Toro, who steals his scenes with a smoky mumble and easygoing charm. Excess Baggage is mostly for Alicia fans, but the film has got enough good laughs and low-key appeal to make it a home-video sleeper. -Jeff Shannon.

The Living Daylights, new boy Timothy Dalton's first Bond outing, gets off to a rocking start with a pre-credits sequence on Gibraltar, and culminates in a witty final showdown with Joe Don Baker's arms dealer, set on a model battlefield full of toy soldiers. While the Aston Martin model whizzing through the car chase has been updated for the late 1980s-including lethal lasers and other deadly gizmos-the plot is pretty standard issue, maybe a little more cluttered and unfocused than usual, involving arms, drugs and diamond smuggling. Nevertheless, the action-formula firmly in place, this one rehearses the moves with ease and throws in some fine acting. Maryam d'Abo, playing a cellist-cum-spy, is the classy main squeeze for 007 (uncharacteristically chaste for once). Dalton, with his wolfish, intelligent features, was a perfectly serviceable secret agent, but never caught on with the viewers, perhaps because everyone was hoping for a presence as charismatic as Sean Connery's in the franchise's glory days. -Leslie Felperin On the DVD: Casting the new Bond takes up much of the "making-of" documentary: first Sam Neill was in the running, but vetoed by Cubby Broccoli, who wanted Timothy Dalton and had considered him as far back as On Her Majesty's Secret Service (but Dalton felt he was just too young at the time). When Dalton proved unavailable, Pierce Brosnan was hired. Then, at the last minute, Brosnan's Remington Steele contract was renewed and he had to drop out. Dalton came back in, on the proviso that he could give Bond a harder, more realistic edge after the action-lite of the Roger Moore years. The second documentary attempts to profile the enigmatic Ian Fleming, who was apparently as mysterious and chameleon-like as his alter ego. [+]