The advertising slogan for 1939’s Ninotchka read “Garbo Laughs”- and it perfectly sums up this remarkable film! Greta Garbo steps down from her ice queen pedestal part way through the film, playing stern Communist Comrade Ninotchka, who slowly warms to the appeal of Parisian romance and champagne.

Three Soviet emissaries, played by Felix Bressart, Sig Rumman and Alexander Granach, arrive in Paris for a mission but find themselves a little… overwhelmed by the joys of the west! Superbly efficient Comrade Ninotchka is sent to do the job instead- being equal to three men- and retrieve the jewels of former Grand Duchess Swana. It is the Soviet government’s contention that the property of the aristocrats belongs to the people. Things become rather complicated however once the Grand Duchess’ lover, played by Melvyn Douglas, takes a fancy to Ninotchka… distraught Duchess Swana decides she will give up all claim to the jewels if the not-so-frosty-anymore commissar will fly away from her count.

Whilst many of Garbo’s films rely on her presence alone for their appeal, that is not the case with Ninotchka- her first film in English and the penultimate of her career.

Billy Wilder’s brittle, witty script- written with Charles Brackett and Walter Reisch- is the strong yet flexible backbone of a film that merrily charges through bumbling emissaries and abrupt changes in personality without loosing it’s naturally light touch.

Playing opposite Garbo, Melvyn Douglas is sauve in his dinner jackets and manages to play some pretty gushy romantic dialogue with enough playfulness to loose neither his conviction nor his edge. Indeed, in an adroit satire of both Communism and capitalism, Ninotchka never looses its sweetness- however sad it might be. It is notable as one of the earliest political spoofs of Stalin’s Communist Russia and even more remarkable for being released during the second world war. With its absolute control, power of censorship and drab life of deprivation, it’s made clear why the Russian emissaries aren’t keen to return to the Soviet Union.

One of the best parts is witnessing Garbo shift gears from a humourless deadpan to cracking up at Douglass falling off his chair. The seriously-austere figure turning playful may be something that we have seen before but rarely has it been done so well! Ninotchka is a brilliant satire, combining farce, romance and politics, it’s funny without loosing Garbo’s elevated intensity and you would be remiss to miss it.

The Godfather is widely, and quite rightly, regarded as one of the greatest films of all time.

For those who do not know: it is an American mob film portraying a New York-based, Sicilian mafia crime family for a decade from the mid forties and was the first of a trilogy.

Our Godfather at the beginning is portrayed by Marlon Brando as Don Vito Corleone- engaging every actor’s trick in the books, yet still making his performance seem effortless. By the end of the film the don’s son, Michael, an adverse outsider, has blossomed into the role- if one can do such a thing when becoming the head of a criminal organisation.

Yet Coppola’s brilliance is that “The Godfather” is told wholly within a closed world- we see not a single innocent civilian actually become a victim of organised crime. It is almost a magic trick; There are no victims of theft, fraud or protection rackets. No women are trafficked or trapped in prostitution. There are no gambling syndicates and the only police officer with a meaningful role is corrupt.

Consequently, we sympathize with characters who are essentially bad, wrong… possibly evil… people.

We consider the Mafia on its own terms and begin to sympathise with those who must take action when the rules of this very special moral code are broken.

Don Vito Corleone transpires as both understandable and admirable- throughout the film this law-breaking, murderous criminal does nothing of which we can honestly disapprove. He keeps to the code and is the moral centre of the film- arguing against dealing in drugs as it is not a “victimless crime”.

The world outside of the film does not exist. It is replaced by an authoritarian patriarchy where power is in the hands of the Godfather and justice is his to dispense. Only traitors can be villains as above all else, most importantly, is loyalty to the family.

Vito Corleone’s youngest son, Michael, is not part of the family business and has plans to marry the WASPy, Kay Adams, played by Diane Keaton. A turning point comes when he saves his father’s life by moving his hospital bed, and whispers to the unconscious man: “I’m with you now.” So begins his slide into criminality and his rise to the top of the mob family.

Michael shoots the corrupt policeman, hides in Sicily, falls in love with a girl who cannot speak the same language, looses her and eventually returns to marry Kay in New York. Yet he has chosen a mafia life and she is not part of that.

Such details are unimportant however, just as romantic love is irrelevant- only familial love bares any weight.

The Godfather is structured with such brilliance and the story told with such simplicity, clarity and consideration that the Mafia appears benevolent, that when an old man falls down amongst his tomato vines, a titan has fallen.

After all, everything would have turned out so much better if only we had listened to the Godfather.

The Nun’s Story certainly doesn’t offer the positive depiction of religious life common in 1950s Hollywood, but it’s not an anti-religious or anti-Catholic depiction either. It’s a challenging and controversial work, but impossible to dismiss,

Audrey Hepburn stars as Gabrielle van der Mal, a young woman who enters convent life with high hopes and ideals, but finds disappointing stumbling-blocks that challenge her vows of poverty, chastity and obedience- creating obstacles that are potentially insurmountable. Adapted from Kathryn Hulme’s novel, itself partly based on the experiences of a real-life ex-nun, Gabrielle’s struggles as she becomes Sister Luke are complex and relatable.

Having been brought up by her respectable, doctor father she originally joins the order with the hope of being able to battle tropical diseases in the Congo. Though Sister Luke’s difficulties with the demands of religious life are brought out by her chosen vocation within the order: Why should she cut off an important conversation with a patient when she hears the call to prayer? One insidious moment involves a twisted mother superior suggesting that she display her humility by deliberately failing a nursing exam.

Yet, there is no effort to depict all nuns as warped or frustrated; there are obviously bad apples, but also warm, sympathetic, well-adjusted women who feel much for the young women in their care. A different mother superior later confirms that the first’s advice was wrong and that Sister Luke should try her hardest in exams.

Once her studies are completed she is sent first to work with mental patients in Belgium before being assigned to the Congo, where she hopes to work with natives. The film begins to pick up pace at this point: whilst, personally, I enjoy watching the intricacies of entering a convent and see their daily lives as fascinating.

I’m aware that not everyone else does!

Audrey Hepburn quietly commands the screen, conveying more in the flicker of an eye than most actresses could do by shouting. Her struggles, though rarely directly spoken, are manifest in each scene, growing stronger as time passes. There is never a moment where the audience doesn’t know what Sister Luke is thinking, even if the person she’s speaking to is clueless.

Sister Luke’s troubles with her faith are only intensified when she meets Dr Fortunati (played by Peter Finch) and the war breaks out. Sister Luke approaches her vocation with all-or-nothing commitment but after suffering a wrenching personal tragedy she struggles with hatred and forgiveness. Is this the Christian ideal itself called into question?

No. Whilst Sister Luke has worthy principles and goals, in the end none of us can really give our all. The film is ahead of its time in calmly refusing to take a stand; Neither Sister Luke nor the order is responsible for her unhappiness- life is just something that happens and not everyone fits in certain spaces. The dramatic moments in this film are few and far between but it’s never boring.