Jonathan Crocker

Bloody knuckles clenched in scalding water. Cigarette smoke drifting through snowflakes. Rivers of urine scraped down a stone corridor. Shit-swirls smeared on the walls. Sights, sounds and senses are what give Hunger its incredible visceral impact, as artist-turned-filmmaker Steve McQueen’s audacious debut slams us in headfirst. Maze prison. Circa 1982. IRA prisoners attempting to force the Thatcher government to grant them status as political prisoners not terrorists… Read the rest of this entry »

Saddam Hussein wakes at about 3am and takes a swim. His back hurts and the swimming helps. You’d never know he has a slipped disc because he never shows his limp. You’d never know he has grey hair because he dyes it black. You’d never know he needs reading glasses because his aides print his speeches in huge letters, just a few lines on each page.

Saddam sleeps for only four or five hours. Because when he sleeps, he shuts his eyes. And when he shuts his eyes, he has to trust those around him. And that is the one thing the Great Uncle cannot do. Read the rest of this entry »

Before the loin-clothed Neanderthal orphan and the Uzi-loving cybernetic organism, Arnold Schwarzenegger scored one of the most influential acting roles of his career: himself. What makes cult ‘70s bodybuilding documentary Pumping Iron such an interesting bridge between Arnie’s pro Adonis years and his birth as a big-screen anti-hero is the fact that it isn’t a documentary at all. Read the rest of this entry »

Rucksacks burning your shoulders, bumpy roads jarring your knees, sweat pouring… That’s one way to explore the tropical paradise of Indonesia. That’s traveling. White sails, blue water, freedom, escape, indulgence… That’s traveling by chartered yacht. Cruising the stunning Indonesian coast, these amazing vessels take adventure travel to a new level. Read the rest of this entry »

Exploring the brawny goings-on when you load up with gun-powder…

1. Rip and burn

Eight… nine… 10! You’ve hammered through your weights session, your arms are screaming. “Hefting heavy weights causes tiny rips in your muscles, activating the chance of growth, as the cells try to avoid the risk of repeat damage,” says sports scientist Christian Finn. During the 15 – to 30 – minutes after your workout, your muscles are in their optimum state for growth. They need amino acids – the blighters that rebuild damaged muscle. Your protein shake is frothing with ’em. Down it! Read the rest of this entry »

“I want God to put out his hand, show his face, speak to me. I cry out to him in the dark but there is no one there…” Gloriously impervious to every parody, Ingmar Bergman’s apocalyptic allegory still packs an unstoppable metaphysical wallop half a century on. Read the rest of this entry »

When it rains, it pours. Cancer, biblical plagues, child geniuses, incest, junkies, murder, gay obsession, gameshow trauma… Overspilling with untethered ambition and a reckless true love of acting and filmmaking, Magnolia steamrollered one major question-mark that hung over the 30-year-old whizkid behind disco-porn showstopper Boogie Nights. Read the rest of this entry »

A truly unique horror curio. Armed with a $30,000 budget for their first and only film, director Harold Harvey and writer John Clifford were shooting for “”the look of a Bergman and the feel of a Cocteau.” Somehow, they nearly pulled it off.

Stylishly skewed right from the opening credits, this dreamlike ghost story sees a brittle blonde (Candace Hilligoss) and two of her friends crash off a wooden bridge into the river below after a drag-race goes wrong. Dazed and dripping, the woman finally drags herself from the muddy depths. Read the rest of this entry »

“I’ve made a Walt Disney movie. A cross between Willy Wonka And The Chocolate Factory and The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes. It’s gonna do eight, maybe 10 million.” George Lucas was wrong about a lot things. That Star Wars might work if Luke Skywalker and his aunt and uncle were dwarves. Or that the entire cast should be oriental. Read the rest of this entry »

Belgium’s favourite son, Jean-Claude Van Damme, remembers where it all began…

“They call me ‘The Muscles From Brussels’,” smiles Jean-Claude Van Damme, almost coyly. “But really, I am just a normal man from Belgium, who once was skinny like a toothpick, reading comic books and dreaming of being a star.” Read the rest of this entry »