He is famed for his organisational skills and rapid shooting pace on films which never run over time or over budget (usually while in the depths of post-production for one he is well on his way preparing for his next), not to mention racking over 100 varied producing credits with Scott Free Productions, the company he founded with his late fellow filmmaker brother Tony.

Throughout his directorial career Sir Ridley has displayed a fascination with exploring human nature and telling stories with complex and formidable women at their centre, and over a 45-plus year career he has tried his hand at most genres, always bringing distinct and atmospheric visual sensibilities with him.

How do you even begin to put such an impressive body of work in any kind of justifiable order? Well, we at The Film Magazine are certainly going to try. So put on your favourite Hans Zimmer soundtrack, draw the blinds to cast some interesting shadows, and turn on the smoke machine. Based on each film’s critical and audience reception, and their wider impacts on popular culture, here is Every Ridley Scott Directed Film Ranked from worst to best.

Follow @thefilmagazine on X (Twitter).

28. The Counsellor (2013)

In an effort to buy himself out of trouble, a lawyer (Michael Fassbender) agrees to facilitate the theft of a Cartel drug shipment on behalf of local kingpin Reiner (Javier Bardem).

Acclaimed novelist Cormac McCarthy writing a script for Ridley Scott sounds like a dream come true, yet The Counsellor was anything but. The characters are all broad strokes, amoral archetypes, or, in Bardem’s case, cartoon characters. No one changes or learns anything, and the smattering of kinky sex and splatter violence is transparently aiming for shock value.

By squandering an intriguing premise and an impressive cast, The Counsellor ends up as an amateurish, sleazy and boring crime film with, particularly disappointing for McCarthy (a writer famed for pristine penmanship), only a single memorable exchange of dialogue.

27. Exodus: Gods and Kings (2014)

A re-telling of the Old Testament story of Moses (Christian Bale), an adopted prince of the Pharaoh leading the Israelite rebellion and escape from their slave-masters in Egypt.

The animated The Prince of Egypt did this story so much better, or at least executed it in a more emotionally compelling way. Ridley Scott might be Mr Historical Epic, but in adapting a Biblical story he bit off more than he could chew.

Even putting aside the uncomfortable look of casting white Europeans and their descendants to populate a story of Egypt and the Middle East (this was only half a decade ago and everybody should’ve known better) Exodus never seems to work out exactly what it wants to be; grounded or fantastical, spiritual or cynical, faithful to the Old Testament or out to deconstruct it; it’s all of these and none of them at the same time.

26. Robin Hood (2010)

Returning from the Crusades, Robin Longstride (Russell Crowe in his fourth collaboration with Ridley Scott) leads a series of uprisings in the villages surrounding Nottingham in protest of the cruelty of the Crown’s treatment of the peasant classes.

Who decided Monsieur Hood should be gritty? Give me a fox or Errol Flynn any day.

This take on the classic English folk tale had all the action chops but never managed to present Robin as an engaging character with compelling or relatable struggles.

Crowe’s accent going on a walking tour of the British Isles was distracting to say the least, and while Mark Strong and Oscar Isaac are fun baddies to boo at, Cate Blanchett is largely wasted as a more active than usual Marian, the copious convoluted flashbacks only serving to muddy the characters and their struggles. 

Recommended for you: Once More with Feeling – 10 More of the Best Remakes

25. Someone to Watch Over Me (1987)

Newly-promoted NYPD detective Mike Keegan (Tom Berenger) is assigned to protect socialite Claire Gregory (Mimi Rogers) who has witnessed a brutal mob assassination, but finds himself helplessly falling for her.

This is a pretty dull, by-the-numbers noir-thriller enlivened only slightly by Scott’s usual visual flair and Lorraine Bracco’s sturdy supporting performance which manages to make the usually thankless role of cop’s wife fairly interesting.

You can predict every twist and plot turn coming at you a mile off, and all the late 80s fashion and hair is far more terrifying than any violent threats to the protagonists might be.

24. A Good Year (2006)

High-flying British stock trader Max Skinner (Russell Crowe) returns to his family vineyard in France to tie up his late uncle’s estate but falls in love with a simpler way of life and the people he connects with, chiefly waitress and childhood friend Fanny (Marion Cotillard).

Russell Crowe’s first reunion with Scott since Gladiator is a pretty strange beast, all things considered. It’s basically the story of a man with money being humbled, going on a trip down memory lane in summery rural France and trying to recall a more innocent point in his life when things other than wealth mattered to him.

For once Crowe isn’t playing a gruff macho man, he’s got good comic chemistry with Tom Hollander, and the flashbacks featuring Freddie Highmore and Albert Finney are admittedly rather poignant. Sadly Marion Cotillard doesn’t get much of interest to do despite being key to the plot, and Scott seems far less comfortable directing what is essentially a rom-com.

23. Hannibal (2001)

Hannibal Review

A decade after his escape from the asylum, Dr Hannibal Lecter (Anthony Hopkins) is being pursued not just by the FBI’s Clarice Starling (Julianne Moore) but one of his few surviving and highly vengeful victims (Gary Oldman).

It was an almost impossible task, to follow Jonathan Demme’s 1991 masterpiece adapting an inferior book sequel, but Scott did his best with what he was given. Anthony Hopkins has fun with a lot more screen time as Hannibal Lecter, and the whole thing is presented with handsome cinematography and a beautifully orchestrated score from Hans Zimmer, including a meticulous original aria for the sake of a single scene at the opera.

Unfortunately these iconic characters lose a lot of their power and allure, and the whole thing feels over-stuffed, unfocused and unnecessarily gory.

Recommended for you: Hannibal Movies Ranked

Napoleon (2023)
Director: Ridley Scott
Screenwriter: David Scarpa
Starring: Joaquin Phoenix, Vanessa Kirby, Tahar Rahim, Rupert Everett, Paul Rhys

Almost a quarter of a century after his swords and sandals epic Gladiator became a critically acclaimed cultural phenomenon and Oscars Best Picture winner, Ridley Scott re-teams with one of its stars – one of this generation’s leading actors and a multi-time Academy Award nominee, Joaquin Phoenix – to revisit another of history’s most written about leaders, Napoleon Bonaparte of France. With more historically accurate locations and just as many period-appropriate costumes as in his turn of the century fable, this life and times of France’s great-then-disgraced general should be a lot more affecting than it actually is. This bullet point journey through Bonaparte’s rise and fall from power doesn’t make powerful comment on the corruption of man, nor does it evaluate the emperor’s influence on war or peace, on Europe or France or the United Kingdom or Russia. In fact, it doesn’t say much at all…

It would be difficult to chronicle Napoleon’s story and fail to capture the imagination in one way or another. This is one of history’s most important figures, an emblem of power and greed. His various roles in post-revolution France took him across continents, saw him as the figurehead of coups, and brought about the deaths of more than one million people. His was a life filled with so many historically significant events, moments, and decisions, that anyone with so much as an Encyclopaedia Britannica could recount his story with at least some drama, shock and awe. The issue with this $200million film is that the script does little more than precisely that, recounting the significant moments of his leadership as if listing them out of a book, with a cheap and at times barely legible love angle tacked on to evoke empathy and provide commentary on the events that come fast and often with little context.

Joaquin Phoenix tries his best. He dominates every scene, embodying a character he clearly sees as more of a creature than a man. Under his spell, Napoleon Bonaparte is worthy of attention, a character whom we are desperate to investigate, to interrogate. But the film doesn’t allow for that. As we depart the beheading of Marie Antoinette in revolution-era France to first meet our subject, Phoenix is not unlike a lion with his jaw clenched, his eyes glazed, his uniform as extravagant and symbolic as a mane. There is so much promise held within this introduction – a potentially world-shifting performance, some spectacular wardrobe work, effective framing and blocking – and instead it sadly becomes emblematic of a film that leaves so much of its potential unfulfilled.

The bullet point journey through Napoleon’s conquests, political manoeuvres, and exiles, requires an emotional core for any potential audience to attach to, and it finds that in the would-be emperor’s marriage to his beloved Josephine. Vanessa Kirby embodies the infamous leader’s muse as if a witch who has cast a spell, and the Oscar-nominated performer’s turn is at times just as beguiling as Phoenix’s. Together, they never hit the highs of some of their other on-screen relationships (Phoenix in Her, Kirby in Pieces of a Woman), nor is their relationship as moving as that presented by Mel Gibson and Catherine McCormack in Braveheart, or as lustful as that presented by Omar Sharif and Julie Christie in Doctor Zhivago. There isn’t even a sense of dangerous plotting as underlined by the incestuous relationship hinted at between Phoenix and Connie Nielsen in Gladiator, which at least provoked a reaction. In Napoleon, Phoenix and Kirby are believably brought together, but they are far from enchanted by one another, and as time passes and events occur, you expect that to become part of the commentary on Napoleon’s lack of humanity, but it doesn’t. Napoleon instead frames this relationship as the beating heart of its subject, as the primary motivating factor, the biggest achievement, the biggest regret. And the film only takes brief moments to dissect this, or even present a valid argument as to how the relationship motivated the man to achieve otherworldly horrors. Theirs is a story that runs parallel to the story of Napoleon’s “achievements”, evolving from time to time but largely suffering from the same “this happens and then this happens and then this happens” that plagues the rest of the tale.

Beyond the limitations of David Scarpa’s screenplay, which was no doubt limited in its potential by the vast period of time it sought to cover (a period of more than 25 years), and the effects this has on Claire Simpson’s editing and pacing of the film, Napoleon does achieve a lot cinematically. First and foremost, the costume work is spectacular. David Crossman and Janty Yates’ work in costuming is nothing short of stellar, and a glimpse at the level of quality many expected a modern Ridley Scott historical epic to achieve. Everyone looks unique and period-appropriate, but the smaller details on the limited selection of main characters are worthy of the biggest screen possible and plenty of critical acclaim. Similarly, the production design by Arthur Max is a significant factor in bringing cinematic qualities to scenes that are otherwise inconsequential or at least far from unmissable. The party and governmental scenes are where the latter shines the brightest, some sequences decked out and presented as if the period’s great paintings.

Ridley Scott must be commended for his role in bringing this to life, too. Some shots are of the highest cinematic calibre, a master clearly touching on the greatness that has been foundational to his visually impressive career to date. His party scenes are filled with life, there are unique physical qualities to many of the major historical figures at play in the story, and he seems intent on ensuring that not a single battle is presented in as bland a fashion as many other director’s have long since settled. His work with cinematographer Dariusz Wolski in the capturing of cold, of fog, of early morning winter sunrises, imbues the piece with a sense of reality and ensures that nobody can be bored by the achievements held within each frame. Some sequences, such as the one in which Napoleon takes Moscow, are worthy even of a highlight reel that includes The Duellists, Alien, Blade Runner, Thelma & Louise and Gladiator.

As has often been the case in more recent Scott movies, there are also shots, scenes and sometimes even entire sequences that seem absent of his once unique and form-topping touch. Early on, it is easy to be removed from the reality of the time period courtesy of poor CGI, such as that showing Joaquin Phoenix riding a horse on a beach or large crowds resembling AI renditions more than actual people. The picture is also so awash with greys that it seems more like a mid-2000s early digital filmmaking release than even Scott’s own from that era. Some night time shots are utterly spectacular, and seem to be of the same school as those celebrated in Jordan Peele’s Nope, but there are vast periods in which everything looks washed out, and it is almost certain that minutes of this film will be barely legible (too dark) to anyone who eventually watches it at home.

Ridley Scott has spoken a lot in the press tour for Napoleon about how his movies do not need to be historically accurate. When a film seeks to explore something thematically, personally, or ideologically, then Scott is most certainly correct. Film is art, and art seeks truth rather than fact. Gladiator worked because of this perspective, because of how it abandoned fact in search of the truth held within the myth. But Napoleon doesn’t do that. It presents moment after moment from the history books, often inaccurately out of negligence as opposed to deeper purpose. There is no doubt that a lot of care and artistry can be seen on screen in Napoleon, but that negligence will be the story of this film: a movie that could have been great, that could have meant something, that could have simply been accurate, and ended up being none of those things. Like Napoleon himself, Napoleon thinks itself as greater than it is. It isn’t insulting like Ridley Scott’s idea of Napoleon firing canons into the Great Pyramid of Giza was to historians the world over, but it does offer only glimmers at its full might. Some individual pieces are greater than the whole in this instance, and what a shame that is. This should have been special.

Score: 15/24

Recommended for you: Ridley Scott Films Ranked

The films that have been selected are, I believe, the peak of cinematic mastery. They span nearly the length of cinema’s existence, and are deliberately chosen to reflect a wide range of genres, countries, and times. One major reason for this is to force myself to list films that are not exclusively 1980s horror movies, which I could quite easily do. The second is because that list would be wrong, as although they could be peak horror, some would undoubtedly be worse than films outside the genre.

Therefore, for better or for worse, at the time of writing, listed from oldest to youngest and with no system of ranking, here are my picks for the 10 Best Films of All Time.

Follow me on X (Twitter) – @KJudgeMental

10. La Voyage dans la Lune (1902)

It is impossible to understate how important this film was.

From the grandfather of special effects, Georges Méliès, come fifteen minutes of sheer adventure, adapting the Jules Verne novels “From the Earth to the Moon”, and “Around the Sun”, along with H. G. Wells’ “First Men on the Moon”, it is a film which pushed the limits of the medium, bringing thrills beyond the stars to the screen for all to see.

Hand-painted frame by frame to add a splash of colour, employing all of Méliès’ stage magic knowhow, it still has the power to captivate to this day, despite being created only seven years after the Lumiere brothers demonstrated their kinematograph at the 1895 December World Fair. The rocket splatting into the eye of the moon is an image almost everyone in the world has seen, despite rarely knowing where it comes from.

It is fun and joyous and, thanks to restoration work and new scores, able to keep its legacy going over 120 years later. Not a single cast or crew member from this film is alive today, yet A Trip to the Moon lives on.

9. Psycho (1960)

We could argue over Hitchcock’s best film for decades. Indeed, many have done, and we still never will agree. Vertigo famously dethroned Citizen Kane in Sight and Sound magazine as the best film ever in 2011, a title the Welles film had held for many decades. Yet Psycho takes my vote for numerous reasons.

Not only is its story iconic – the shower scene one of the greatest sequences in cinema history – and its production history something of legend, but it is supreme mastery of cinematic craftsmanship.

Every shot is glorious, every moment timed to perfection. Suspense is at an all-time high, mystery around every corner. Yet perhaps what is most startling is its efficiency, Hitchcock’s most underappreciated skill. If a scene required 50 cuts, he’d have it. If it required a simple shot/reverse shot with the most subtle of powerful, timed camera cuts to a tighter or a lower angle (see the dinner between Marion and Norman), he did it. It is an exercise in extreme precision, in efficiency of storytelling, and it cuts deeper than almost any other film.

Recommended for you: The Greatest Film Trailer of All Time? Psycho (1960)

“The more films our audiences come to watch, the more likely it is that we will survive. It’s that simple.”

The UK’s last surviving newsreel theatre, the Tyneside Cinema in Newcastle upon Tyne, has launched a fundraising campaign to save it from closure.

The North East’s only full-time independent cinema, an 86-year-old cultural institution and a registered charity, faces a stark future due to a slump in post-COVID audience numbers, the cost of living crisis, public sector spending cuts, and soaring energy bills. Specifically, Tyneside Cinema is combatting a 300% hike in energy costs and a 40% downturn in post-pandemic audiences.

The living wage employer was founded by Dixon Scott, the great-uncle of famed Hollywood directors Sir Ridley Scott and Tony Scott, and serves more than 500,000 people per year across the programmes, attractions, bars and cafes, offered inside its Grade II listed building.

“Right now, we ask people who want to help us to do two things – donate to our fundraising appeal and visit us as often as you can,” said Tyneside Cinema’s interim CEO Simon Drysdale.

The best course of action to support Tyneside Cinema is to donate directly to the charity via their website: tynesidecinema.co.uk/about-us/support-us

You can also donate via Tyneside’s JustGiving page: justgiving.com/campaign/lovetynesidecinema

Alternatively, you can text LOVETYNESIDE to 70085 to donate £5.

Tyneside Cinema’s official press release reads as follows:

AN URGENT fund-raising campaign is being launched to save the iconic Tyneside Cinema from closure as it faces up to an unprecedented threat to its survival.

A combination of a post-Covid slump in audiences, the cost of living crisis, soaring energy bills and public sector funding cuts have left the 86-year-old Newcastle cultural institution facing a stark future.

Bosses warn that without additional funds and support from the public, Tyneside Cinema could face the same fate as other independent cinemas and venues around the country which have had to shut their doors for good.

Simon Drysdale, interim CEO at Tyneside Cinema, said: “This is potentially the worst funding crisis Tyneside Cinema has faced in its history.

“Whilst we made it through the pandemic and the enforced closures that brought, audiences have so far failed to return in pre-Covid numbers and, like many cultural venues around the country, we are also facing reductions in funding from public sector organisations who themselves are finding finances tight.

“There have already been closures of other long-standing cultural venues including leading independent cinema The Filmhouse in Edinburgh, the Oldham Coliseum theatre and, closer to home, The Exchange Theatre in North Shields.

“We are determined to do our utmost to ensure that Tyneside Cinema does not become another addition to that list and to preserve this iconic centre for independent film for current and future generations.

“However, in order to do that, we really need your help – and we need it soon.”

Tyneside Cinema reopened successfully after the pandemic, with support from guests, friends of the cinema, donors, Arts Council England, DCMS, Heritage Lottery Fund and the British Film Institute.

But all cinemas across the UK, from multiplexes to independent cinemas, have struggled to deal with low ticket sales following the pandemic – down by 40% on pre-pandemic levels in the case of Tyneside Cinema.

Rising utility costs have also hit hard with the cost of heating, cooling and lighting Tyneside Cinema trebling.

In addition, Tyneside Cinema building’s listed status presents its own unique challenges to maintain and adapt to the needs of modern audiences. It is in discussion with its landlord to achieve a rental that reflects the open market value of the premises rather than one that is linked to RPI (which is particularly crippling in the current environment) and leads to an unrealistic level of rent. A better rent deal would help the cinema to continue to bring the very best of independent, blockbuster, foreign language and award-winning films to audiences in the region.

In response to these various challenges, Tyneside Cinema is working closely with other UK independent cinemas to find new funding and operating models to protect the sector.

Simon Drysdale said: “As well as providing audiences with a genuine alternative to mainstream Hollywood movies, Tyneside Cinema and cinemas like it are a vital part of the UK film industry, championing the work of the new and up and coming film makers and supporting local talent.

“It is particularly fitting that Tyneside Cinema was founded by Dixon Scott, the great-uncle of stellar film directors Sir Ridley and Tony Scott.

“Preserving and building on that unique history is one of the driving forces behind our campaign to keep Tyneside Cinema alive.

“We are doing all we can to keep the cinema open and we are determined to save this vital and unique institution that people of Newcastle and the North East are so rightfully proud of.”

The trustees have already put in place a number of initiatives to help improve Tyneside Cinema’s financial picture, including changing operating hours and restructuring ticket pricing.

Following a review of staff costs, the cinema is also now considering restructuring its workforce and is entering into consultation with staff members about the potential for a small number of potential redundancies.

Mr Drysdale explained: “Losing colleagues is the last thing we want to do, but the economic climate, combined with low visitor numbers means we have little choice.

“By breathing in for a while we can weather the storm and we hope that, in the future, we will again be able to offer the full series of community and arts work we have been famous for.”

Tyneside’s operations were comprehensively overhauled three years ago following an independent investigation which was prompted by issues raised by staff at that time. Following the review, a new chair, board of trustees and senior management team were appointed.

Mr Drysdale said: “We acknowledge the mistakes identified by the independent investigation three years ago, but this is very much a new era for Tyneside Cinema and it is a time when we need the support of the fantastic North East public more than ever before.”

Tyneside Cinema is hoping that its rallying call to the region’s film lovers will help to secure its future and ensure that the final curtain doesn’t fall on this iconic cultural venue.

Simon Drysdale said: “Right now, we ask people who want to help us to do two things – donate to our fundraising appeal and visit us as often as you can.

“The more films our audiences come to watch, the more likely it is that we will survive. It’s that simple.”

To make a donation to the Tyneside Cinema fundraising appeal go to
https://tynesidecinema.co.uk/about-us/support-us/, visit the JustGiving Page at
https://justgiving.com/campaign/lovetynesidecinema or text LOVETYNESIDE to 70085 to donate £5.

Blade Runner (1982)
Director: Ridley Scott
Screenwriters: Hampton Fancher, David Peoples
Starring: Harrison Ford, Rutger Hauer, Sean Young, Daryl Hannah, Brion James, Edward James Olmos, M. Emmet Walsh, Joe Turkel, William Sanderson, Joanna Cassidy

A troubled production, luke-warm reception at the time of release, several different cuts, a name borrowed off a completely different novel, and a legacy to last a lifetime in its genre and beyond. Blade Runner, the archetypal cyberpunk film, the visual landscape of a thousand dreams and hallucinations of the future, the inspiration of so many that came after, may have now slipped into an ‘alternative future’ rather than ‘futuristic prediction’ as its near-future date of 2019 has been and gone, but it has lost none of its potency all these years later. In the sprawling, neon-soaked, perpetually-rainy grime of Los Angeles, Harrison Ford’s Rick Deckard, a retired robot bounty hunter (referred to as a Blade Runner), is tasked with tracking down and retiring a quartet of renegade replicants, artificial people who broke away from their owners on the off-world colonies and have made their way back to Earth. As Deckard says, “Replicants are like any other machine. They’re either a benefit or a hazard. If they’re a benefit it’s not my problem.”

Reportedly, Blade Runner (or at least one its original cuts) was shown to novel-writer Philip K. Dick a few months before he passed. After ten minutes of footage, he turned around to director Ridley Scott and said “How is this possible? You’ve been in my head! This is exactly what I saw!” Indeed, the landscape of the world (mostly designed by legendary futurist Syd Mead, who would eventually work on films such as Tron, Short Circuit, and Aliens) is one of the most arresting aspects of the film. Dazzling and decrepit in equal measure, the giant Coca-Cola and Atari advertisements against the smoky cityscape capture the imagination, the neon umbrellas lighting up the passers-by with ghostly illumination. It brings what Bruce Sterling would later describe cyberpunk as, ‘high-tech, low-life’, into sharp reality. The world is a character in itself, the police cars (spinners) uniquely designed and beautiful. Combined with Vangelis’ haunting synth score, the world of Blade Runner is an atmosphere unlike anything else. That everything is practical, shot for real through a real lens by Douglas Trumbull’s SFX wizard-hands, gives it a tactile, physical dimension that few films have come close to matching.

Harrison Ford’s bounty hunter perfectly straddles that line between action hero and emotional individual. He gets depressed, he gets tired, he gets injured, and yet he still goes about his business with gusto. Ford reportedly disliked Scott for not giving him enough instruction with his character, though this hardly translates to the screen, as he gives a performance worthy of anyone’s CV. And though the other cast are all equally perfect in their roles, the standout of all standouts must and should rightly be Rutger Hauer’s Roy Batty. Leader of the replicant crew, his emotional drive and search simply to have more life, to acquire what he feels was unfairly robbed of him, his time ticking away and his impending death coming like a black shadow, gives the film an unrivalled level of heart and humanity (ironically coming from a non-human character). This all leads to a final confrontation with Deckard, a chase through the ruined apartments of the Bradbury building, which gives all the dirty, grimy, animalistic fighting one could ever need.

And then, on the rooftops near the final moments of the film, Hauer delivers his immortal ‘Tears in the rain’ speech, a monologue that has stood the test of time as one of the best ever put to film. It is pure emotion, a reflection on time and mortality and the end of all things, a search for life put short by the inevitable end we must all face. With the exquisite, BAFTA-winning cinematography of Jordan Cronenweth, and Scott’s direction one of the best examples of his career, this moment encapsulates everything that Blade Runner stands for. It is a discussion of what it means to be human, how technology affects the human experience, and how we all try to make meaning of the world around us before facing the long sleep.

Some might say that the pacing is a little slow, taking a back seat to the visuals, but there lies a misconception because the film, despite having an action set-piece or two, is not an all-out thriller. Action is not its driving force. It is a neo-noir contemplation on life, held in place by the narrative conventions of a detective noir. It is big and bold and majestic and utterly hypnotic, and needs to be seen on the biggest screen possible with the best sound system possible. Blade Runner will live on for future generations and remain as important as it has been these past 40 years, forever one of the best science fiction films ever made.

Score: 24/24

House of Gucci (2021)
Director: Ridley Scott
Screenwriters: Becky Johnston, Roberto Bentivegna
Starring: Lady Gaga, Adam Driver, Jared Leto, Al Pacino, Jeremy Irons, Salma Hayek, Jack Huston, Reeve Carney, Camille Cottin, Vincent Riotta, Youssef Kerkour

Ridley Scott’s second film of 2021 is based on Sara Gay Forden’s “The House of Gucci: A Sensational Story of Murder, Madness, Glamour, and Greed”, and with such a lurid title you would expect the film adaptation to be entertaining at the very least. House of Gucci is that, but only intermittently, and half the time you’re not sure if the entertainment value is intentional or not.

Based on the scandalous true story of the troubled Gucci fashion dynasty over two decades from the late 70s, House of Gucci tells of ambitious lover of fine things Patrizia Reggiani (Lady Gaga) falling for Gucci heir apparent Maurizio (Adam Driver) and marrying into his lavish family. Domestic bliss and a life of luxury does not last and so Patrizia begins to engineer the couple’s takeover of the family fashion line in order to fund the most extravagant of lifestyles, looking to oust the more established Gucci family members in the process. There will be back-stabbing, the most privileged of family bust-ups, and there will be blood.

First, the good…

Being a Ridley Scott film, much care and attention has been lavished on its aesthetic strengths, with DP Dariusz Wolski (The Last Duel) bringing some striking cinematography to bear, and Janty Yates’ (All the Money in the World) costume design helping to tell a story all its own in this period of massive excess.

There’s also very little wrong with the first act of the film, which follows Patrizia and Maurizio’s unlikely meet-cute and the passionate early stages of their relationship – it’s funny and compelling and belongs in a better film. She meets him at a club, mistakes him for a cute and awkward bartender, he makes her a passable martini before revealing himself as one of those Guccis who make such stylish handbags and loafers, and before we know it she’s strong-arming him into a marriage proposal. 

Following Patrizia and Maurizio’s wedding we start meeting more members of the Gucci dynasty. It is here that the film becomes much less sure-footed, losing sight of what the central story is trying to say about anyone’s real motivations for doing what they are doing and struggling to give all the key players enough to do.

Any scene fronted by Lady Gaga, Adam Driver or both works like gangbusters; their chemistry and hugely contrasting personalities draw you in, and they both look to be having a lot of fun playing it a bit more over-the-top than usual. Gaga has Italian heritage herself so has clearly made peace with the cultural stereotypes embodied in her formidable character and the surrounding film, but as her performance is the lively storm that blows away the cobwebs and grey tedium found elsewhere, you can hardly object to her projecting to the back seats. 

Unfortunately, others in the cast seem to have wandered in from another film entirely and do nothing to keep you engaged. Jeremy Irons looks bored in his limited screen time as the ailing, snobbish Gucci patriarch Rodolpho, and Al Pacino is on autopilot playing his showman brother Aldo, speaking very softly until he inevitably booms something to make a point. And then there’s Jared Leto…

There’s no two ways about it, Jared Leto as Aldo’s hack son Paolo is the worst thing in this film, killing dead any scene he’s in (and he’s in it quite a bit) by instantly throwing off the rhythm or diffusing any tension built up with his astoundingly misjudged grab-bag of physical tics and phonetic Italian accented verbiage. It’s a shame that his scenes work to do nothing more than drag the surrounding film down with them because they’re also the funniest and most diverting moments in the film, strangely captivating in all the wrong ways like a snake eating something twice the size of itself. 

Roger Ebert once said “No good movie is too long and no bad movie is short enough”. There’s very little reason for House of Gucci to be two-and-a-half hours long. The relative lack of memorable incident and clear connective tissue between its episodic chapters definitely invites comparison with TV soap operas, but somebody forgot to tell half of the cast that this was the tone they were supposed to be aiming for. You’re also left to guess how much time is supposed to have passed almost entirely by what attention-grabbing hairstyle Patrizia is currently rocking, the Gucci family’s story feeling strangely disconnected from the real world’s progression around it.

The film eventually comes to the conclusion that Gucci as a business works much better when there are no Guccis involved, and it’s hard to argue the point. As they were squabbling and plotting against each other, sabotaging and making power plays, the business was tanking and it only reached its true potential as a profitable venture when Tom Ford and other talented designers became involved, the company given over to people who knew their way around accounting.

Sadly House of Gucci was never going to be as compelling a story about warring families as ‘Succession’ or ‘Game of Thrones’, nor is it a particularly engaging crime epic like Scott’s own American Gangster. Film fans will be frustrated by the shortfalls in the basic storytelling and fashion experts will learn nothing about Gucci they didn’t already know. Despite Gaga and Driver’s best efforts, and some of the more bizarre plot turns being absolutely true to life, this is merely an underwhelming tale of petty, rich bitches. 

13/24

Recommended for you: Ridley Scott Films Ranked

The final girl was a response to many political and cultural shifts during the 1970s and quickly became a staple of the genre. Over the decades, final girls have been many things: victims, virgins, good girls, bad girls, action heroes, and even killers themselves. They have evolved into complex heroines, subverting genre tropes, and redefining again and again what it means to be the last woman standing.

This Movie List chronicles the evolution of the final girl, from its slasher origins beginning in 1974 with, most notably, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, until now. It’s an exploration and celebration of one of horror’s most iconic tropes – and the women who made it so.

Follow The Film Magazine on Twitter.

10. Jess Bradford – Black Christmas (1974)

Jess Bradford (Olivia Hussey) was the first incarnation of the final girl – completely ahead of her time. She’s a smartly written, fully developed heroine with a complex interior life. Most importantly, Jess doesn’t follow a key rule that will later become a staple of the final girl trope: she’s not a virgin. This is made obvious by her desire to get an abortion.

Jess is progressive and sex-positive and her survival says loudly that sex doesn’t have to ruin a woman’s life, nor should it condemn her to death. In addition, Jess’s heartbreaking choice to stay in the house and try to save her friends – even after she’s made aware that the killer is somewhere inside – rather than save herself, solidifies Jess as a gutsy, brave final girl that many went on to emulate in the decades to come.

Jess is saved from her boyfriend, the presumed killer, after a violent confrontation. Her fate, however, is left ambiguous, something that will become a key element of any great slasher: the killer always comes back for one last scare.

9. Sally Hardesty – The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974)

Released only a few months after Black Christmas, Tobe Hooper’s The Texas Chain Saw Massacre tells the story of Sally Hardesty (Marilyn Burns) and her group of friends, who encounter a family of cannibals while on a road trip. Sally is often cited as the archetype of the final girl. Whether that is technically true or not, Sally’s influence on the genre is still felt, decades later.

Compared to Jess, Sally is a blank canvas. Her characterization is almost non-existent. She rarely feels like a real person, someone with wants and desires, likes and dislikes. But she speaks to our primal fears, those feelings that are buried and repressed. Marilyn Burns’ performance is raw and genuine – her terror palpable. In her essay, “Her Body, Himself: Gender in the Slasher Film”, Carol J. Clover says that horror and pornography exist to stimulate, and their success is measured by these effects on the audience. Clover writes, “The target is in both cases the body, our witnessing body. But what we witness is also the body, another’s body, in experience: the body in sex and the body in threat.”

The end of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, where Sally sits on the back of a truck bed, bloodied and half out of her mind with terror and relief, but alive, offers the audience the catharsis all final girls do. We experience the horror of Sally’s body, the cuts and slashes, and screams, and by surviving it, as she does, we’re rewarded with an exhale: our collective survival.

Recommended for you: Texas Chainsaw Massacre Movies Ranked

The Hannibal media franchise, based on the novels by Thomas Harris, has become a classic horror movie franchise in its own right over the past thirty-plus years. The series’ second movie The Silence of the Lambs is one of the most critically successful horror films of all time – it went on to win 7 Oscars (including Best Picture) – while its sequels and prequels have grossed over $290million at the box office, with Hannibal (2001) being one of the ten highest grossing horror films in history.

Featuring Anthony Hopkins at arguably his very best (his performances stirring fear through the smallest of mannerisms), the Hannibal movies have left an indelible mark on cinema and our wider culture. In this edition of Ranked, we here at The Film Magazine are looking back at all five Hannibal movies to see how one brutal psychiatrist-turned-cannibal left his mark on horror history, judging each Hannibal film franchise entry from worst to best in terms of artistic merit, societal impact, critical reception and audience perception, for this: the Hannibal Movies Ranked.

Follow The Film Magazine on Twitter.

5. Hannibal Rising (2007)

The most recent movie in the Hannibal franchise is the fourteen-year-old Hannibal Rising, and it’s on the bottom of this list because it simply doesn’t feel like a horror movie at all. 

Hannibal Rising is more like a war flick than a horror and, unfortunately for any fans of the previous movies, Anthony Hopkins doesn’t step into the killer’s shoes this time. Instead, Gaspard Ulliel takes up the role of Hannibal long before his incarceration or his meeting with Clarice Starling.

As an origin story, Peter Webber’s Hannibal Rising reveals far more of Dr Lecter than we have ever seen before. As a young boy, Hannibal isn’t entirely monstrous, but his backstory is. After his parents are killed in his home country of Lithuania during the Second World War, the Nazis occupy the family lodge and terrorise eight-year-old Hannibal and his toddler sister, Micha. When food becomes scarce, the Nazis turn to the youngsters. Now a teenager and the only surviving sibling, Hannibal is out to get revenge on those who murdered his loved ones.

There’s no denying how brutally horrific Hannibal’s history is, but more than anything else it proves to be unbearably sad, and this distinction would prove to be this film’s downfall. In every other adaptation, the mystery of who Hannibal is and what he’s capable of is exactly what makes him so difficult to look away from. Due to what we see of his tragic life in Hannibal Rising, however, there are no secrets left to uncover – we know Hannibal will stop at nothing to get revenge and, in a way, we root for him or even feel sorry for him. Nothing is held back, and as a result the character of Hannibal is diminished.

Peter Webber’s adaptation isn’t awful, but it lacks the subtlety that makes Hannibal the eerie villain we have come to know him as. And as for the man himself, Gaspard Ulliel can’t quite match Anthony Hopkins’ iconic performance. 

4. Hannibal (2001)

Hannibal Review

The second instalment in the Hannibal franchise was met with some anger amongst fans, as well as leading star Anthony Hopkins. Not only was Jonathan Demme (the director of The Silence of the Lambs) not returning, but nor was Jodie Foster as the young FBI agent Clarice Starling. Perhaps even more frustratingly, Starling was re-cast, and was this time played by Julianne Moore. 

Unlike Hannibal Rising, Hannibal (2001) is capable of stirring fear and discomfort in a scarily effortless way, but its plot is far too complex. Hannibal is once again at the forefront of the story, this time living in exile in Florence, Italy, aiming to find Agent Starling (who is in trouble with the FBI for being rather ‘trigger happy’). Meanwhile, an old victim of his, Mason Verger (Gary Oldman), is also on the hunt for the killer and pulls corrupt officer Renaldo Pazzi (Giancarlo Giannini) into his schemes.

It’s a rather fast-paced movie in comparison to the others (borrowing from Scott’s action-centric directorial trademarks), but with so much happening it lacks in tension.

Hannibal (2001) features some beautiful imagery, but it is the dynamic between Dr Lecter and Clarice Starling that proves to be the most interesting aspect of this long-awaited sequel.

Recommended for you: 10 Best Horror Movies of the 2000s

The Last Duel (2021)
Director: Ridley Scott
Screenwriters: Nicole Holofcener, Ben Affleck, Matt Damon
Starring: Matt Damon, Adam Driver, Jodie Comer, Ben Affleck

Ridley Scott, the man behind some of the most famous films of all time – Alien, Blade Runner, Thelma & Louise, Gladiator and of course that Hovis commercial – has solidified himself as one of the most prolific filmmakers of all time. It hasn’t all been good, with strings of all-time great blockbuster offerings being followed by dour patches – for every classic such as Alien or Blade Runner there are commercially and critically disappointing follow ups such as Legend and Someone to Watch Over Me. For every Gladiator there is a Hannibal. This path has remained consistent throughout Scott’s career and is perhaps even more consistent in the director’s later years. With the Ben Affleck and Matt Damon penned The Last Duel however, Scott makes it two for two on critically admired offerings, continuing the upward trajectory Scott has found himself on post-The Martian (Alien: Covenant not included).

The Last Duel tells the story of the last officially recognized judicial duel fought in France in 1386, between Knight Jean de Carrouges and squire Jacques Le Gris after Carrouges’ wife Marguerite de Carrouges accused Le Gris of raping her. 

Many will note similarities between the structures of The Last Duel and Akira Kurosawa’s Yojimbo. The structural choice from Damon, Affleck and fellow writer Nicole Holofcener (Can You Ever Forgive Me?) was most definitely a brilliant choice as it creates the circumstances under which any viewer of The Last Duel can tap into the talents of the writing team: the film’s greatest strength.

The Last Duel is split up into four sections: the truth as told by Jean de Carrouges (Damon), the truth as told by Jacques Le Gris (Driver), the truth as told by Marguerite de Carrouges (Comer) and, of course, the last duel. Splitting the film into these sections allows for some truly great character work, showing the story through each of their eyes. Even when two or more characters seemingly agree that an event happened in exactly the same way, it is clear that their actions within the event are seen differently, bringing more humanity (or disgust) to characters in the process.

The character work isn’t always perfect, and this is most clear in Alex Lawther’s King Charles VI. In order to get the events of the film to where they need to be, Charles is required to remain fair and justified in his actions, yet at random points he suddenly appears as a mad king with a lust for blood. This complete clash of personality traits doesn’t further any mystery but instead only causes us to scratch our heads at the baffling portrayal.

Jodie Comer, by contrast, is incredible as Marguerite. With this being her largest feature film role to date, she makes the most of her screen time and steals every single scene she is in, bringing an immeasurable amount of depth to her character. Adam Driver, as always, is an easy second best as far as the performances go, the Oscar nominee proving that he really can do just about anything. As for Damon and Affleck, this is where issues begin to arise.

Matt Damon generally portrays his character well as a mean but proud and loyal man, it is just that there are some instances in which he could have dialled it down a little. Ben Affleck has a similar issue in that he feels as though he is almost always at 100. He has proven in the past that he can give quiet, subtle performances yet, while admittedly his character Count Pierre d’Alençon is not a quiet nor subtle person, Affleck seems to have gone off the deep end with this one.

The issues within the writing and the acting are telling of the film as a whole. The Last Duel is great for the most part but almost every aspect has issues within it that are simply puzzling, causing us to question how these issues ever made it as far as they did. Through this we must look upon Ridley Scott’s direction. Once again, his work behind the camera is great for the most part – his career to date has shown us that he knows how to build worlds and film a period epic, and this is on show here through the use of terrific practical effects, costumes, lighting and sets – yet there are a handful of questionable decisions within Scott’s direction that ever so slightly weigh down the film’s greatest aspects. 

The Last Duel is not a perfect film, the questionable decisions in multiple aspects of the movie can occasionally take you out of the experience, but to The Last Duel’s credit it always does just about enough to suck you back in, and by the end of the film it is clear that as a whole The Last Duel’s pros outweigh its cons.

The Last Duel is most certainly better than Scott’s previous effort All the Money in the World and is arguably one of his greatest films of this century. It may not be on par with Scott’s most famous works such as Alien and Blade Runner, but it is a very good film in its own right. It’s a pleasure to see the director’s career on yet another upswing. 

18/24

Thelma & Louise is undoubtedly the film that marked my own feminist awakening, and 30 years on it remains iconic and revolutionary in its representation of women on screen. The ending to Thelma & Louise has been described by the American critic Marita Sturken as “both tragic and idealistic at the same time”, and the decision to have Thelma and Louise drive off the cliff in the film’s unforgettable conclusion has divided opinion. In my opinion, the film’s ending remains the most powerful final image in cinema history.

When describing the ending of Thelma & Louise, director Ridley Scott recalled that “it just seemed appropriate that they continue the journey”. The iconic final freeze-frame symbolises the two friends’ freedom, and by ending on them suspended in mid-air, the image immortalises the characters. As Scott suggests, if we each interpret the ending more figuratively than literally, the women do not die but carry on flying. Before they drive off, Thelma even tells Louise, “Let’s not get caught. Let’s keep going”.

The vast expanse of the Grand Canyon represents the pinnacle of Thelma and Louise’s trip. They have reached the highest points of their respective lives and, having transcended their former roles of housewife and waitress, there is nowhere else for them to go but up. As an iconic American landmark of natural beauty, the awe-inspiring canyon viewed against the sky symbolises the ascension of the two women and their literal flight powerfully symbolises their departure.

The conventional Hollywood happy ending invariably presents marriage as woman’s ultimate goal. The films of Walt Disney Animation demonstrate an ingrained insistence upon a ‘happy ending’ equating to living ‘happily ever after’ with a man. Film writer Edward Ross claims that “from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs to Beauty and the Beast and beyond, Disney has long characterised its female characters as damsels in need of rescue, for whom marriage is the ultimate goal”. As the first Disney animation, Snow White established the theme of the ‘marriage goal’, beginning a troubling trend that future Disney films would follow. One of the main songs in the film is “Someday My Prince Will Come”, and Snow White continually fantasises about how “then he will carry me away to his castle, where we will live happily ever after”. Snow White literally sits and waits for a romantic partner, dreaming about the day she will finally find happiness within the arms of a man. The film ends with her prince waking and rescuing her, before lifting her onto a white horse, essentially parodying the definition of a ‘fairy tale’, as the prince and princess ride off to a golden palace in the distance. There is literal narrative closure as we are shown the last page of a book that reads “and they lived happily ever after”.

Thelma & Louise is subversive not only in its refusal to conform to patriarchal conventions, but also in its lack of closure. Whereas conventional Hollywood endings encourage us to imagine a life beyond the image, as seen with Snow White and her prince, Thelma & Louise encourages us not to envisage what happens beyond the freeze-frame. With the final shot, we are left with a positive and uplifting image of Thelma and Louise flying through the sky. If their story ends when the film does, they do not die, but are immortalised in that moment, ascending from the world below.

Screenwriter Callie Khouri has since stated that “after all they had been through [she] didn’t want anything to be able to touch them”. By driving off the cliff, the pair escape the confines of the world. As Khouri intended, they are untouchable in their flight. Film critic Manohla Dargis suggests that the final destination of Thelma and Louise is ultimately irrelevant when compared to the strength of their friendship. Dargis contends that “no matter where their trip finally ends, Thelma and Louise have reinvented sisterhood for the American screen”. Again, this idea encourages each of us to not prioritise the coming deaths of the protagonists but to acknowledge the greater importance of the characters’ lives and friendship. The final gaze in the film is at each other, as they smile in mutual exhilaration.

The lyrics of Glenn Frey’s “Part of Me, Part of You” illustrate the essential message of the film, which is about friendship and loyalty. The line: “you and I will always be together, from this day on you’ll never walk alone”, evokes the inseparability of Thelma and Louise. Frey’s lines reflect the “tragic but idealistic” tone of the film referred to by Marita Sturken, as the women end their journey but achieve an unbreakable bond of friendship.

Though Thelma & Louise does not have a typical fairy tale ending, it draws on the ‘happy ending’ idea, albeit unconventionally by freeing its protagonists from patriarchal society. It is an adult fairy tale insofar as it eschews the naivety of the type of happy ending that involves marrying a prince. The refusal of the characters to submit to patriarchy within the narrative is simultaneously reflected in its unconventional ending.

With their deaths not being shown, the pair are effectively mythologised. American author Laura Shapiro describes the ending as being about “two women whose clasped hands are their most powerful weapon”. They are not violent in their final decision, but nor are they defeatist.

Thelma & Louise shatters expectations of a Hollywood happy ending. It diverges from the patriarchal definition, exchanging heteronormative union for liberation and platonic companionship. Scott’s protagonists pursue their own destinies and ultimately rescue themselves. Thelma & Louise is therefore subversive not only in its refusal to conform to patriarchal conventions, but also in its lack of closure, as its one final still image leaves us with an impossible ‘forever’.

Written by Gala Woolley

You can support Gala Woolley in the following places:

Twitter – @GalaWoolley
Blog – screenqueens.co.uk