HEDDA no stars

 If Henrik Ibsen's masterpiece "Hedda Gabler" didn't exist there is a remote chance that I might have enjoyed Nia DaCosta's film "Hedda" which updates the play, changes the setting and the sex of one of the main characters, messes with the plot and makes Hedda bisexual but since Ibsen's masterpiece does exist there is no getting away from the fact that DaCosta's film is a travesty of the original.

It certainly looks fabulous and Tessa Thompson is a suitably sardonic Hedda while Imogen Poots works wonders with the part of Thea. Nina Hoss, on the other hand, in the Ejlert Lovborg role, ('he's' now Eileen), feels totally lost and the overall effect of the film is akin to drawing a mustache on the Mona Lisa. Of course, anyone not familiar with Ibsen's play might enjoy what is basically a high society bitchfest. Everyone else should give it a wide berth.

THE WOMAN IN CABIN 10 no stars

 "The Woman in Cabin 10" unfolds like an Agatha Christie story, the one Agatha chucked in the bin after deciding it wasn't fit for publication.The setting is a super yacht on its way to the fjords, owned by billionaire Anna and her slimy husband Guy Pearce with the usual assorted invited guests on board including investigative journalist Keira Knightley. It's Keira who stumbles on the woman in cabin 10 and is convinced she's been chucked overboard while everyone else including the crew try to convince her it's all in her mind.

A decent, if underused, cast that also includes Hannah Waddingham, David Morrissey, Art Malik, David Ajala and Gugu Mbatha-Raw just about keep us watching but the plot is paper thin. The real star of the picture is the yacht itself, just the thing for that luxury holiday you know you'll probably never be able to afford. Keira, meanwhile, goes about her investigating with the vigor of a sexy Miss Marple finding clues and meeting obstacles, including the obligatory attempt on her life, at every turn. Since the whole cast act suspiciously there's a little fun to be had in guessing whodunit, at least until about thirty minutes from the end when the killer is revealed leaving Keira with not much else to do but fight for her life and us to wonder why such talented people agreed to appear in this rubbish in the first place.

THE MASTERMIND ****

 Kelly Reichardt's most accessible film is also her finest by some distance. Set in 1970 "The Mastermind" has both the look and the sound, (a superb jazz-tinged score from Rob Mazurek), of the films of that period, ("Five Easy Pieces" comes to mind), as gormless would-be thief J.B. Mooney, (another terrific Josh O'Connor performance), plans and executes a heist of four paintings from his local Museum of Art.

Unfortunately planning and what to do next don't really figure in J.B.'s universe and, this being a Kelly Reichardt film, the heist itself fades into the background as we get to know J.B., a thirty something man who's clearly in arrested development and again, being a Reichardt film, it takes its time reaching what may seem like an anti-climax and yet I found it a joy from start to finish, unlike other Reichardt films which I found interminable.

As has so often been the case recently O'Connor carries it; his shaggy dog amiability makes him excellent company even if he does have loser tattooed on his forehead and the film is full of lovely cameos from the likes of Hope Davis and Bill Camp, (his parents), and John Magaro and Gaby Hoffmann, (the counter-culture couple he briefly hangs out with after going on the run), and as O'Connor and the film amble from place to place it perfectly evokes those seventies road movies that brightened our cinema-going back in the day. Not much happens and it's certainly not a suspense film but in its sad/funny way it's a real charmer. More like this please, Kelly.

JAY KELLY *

 "Jay Kelly", (the movie), is, for the most part, beautifully acted but highly sentimental in that 'wear-your-heart-on-your-sleeve' kind of way that redemptive Hollywood crowd-pleasers so often are and it's really quite a difficult movie to like. Has Noah Baumbach sold his soul for a mess of George Clooney's pottage? Why, I kept asking myself, did Baumbach make such a lifeless picture and why is Clooney playing such an egotistical asshole who goes on a redemptive journey to Italy to bond with his daughter? Surely Clooney the actor is nothing like Jay Kelly, (the man), so is this finally nothing but his Oscar-bait role? It might have been had Baumbach given him something to chew on but his screenplay here, (co-written with actor Emily Mortimer), is his most insipid to date.

What keeps the movie chugging along, (barely), is a superb supporting cast headed by a world-weary Adam Sandler and a more than usually subdued Laura Dern and if Jim Broadbent, Emily Mortimer, Stacy Keach, Patrick Wilson and, best of all, Billy Cruddup contribute nothing more than glorified cameos they are, at least, superb cameos and deserving of a lot more than the treacle that has been poured over them. Another 'movie about the movies' but one of least of them; something of a mess, in fact, from start to finish.