THE LICKERISH QUARTET

 This infamous soft-core porn movie is notorious, not for its sex scenes which are tame by any standards, but for its pretensions to be 'about something'. "The Lickerish Quartet" finds director Radley Metzger stepping into the shoes of Antonioni only to find they don't fit at all. This is porn for the art-house crowd, (the so-called 'dirty mac' brigade would get bored very quickly), but then the art-house crowd would see through this immediately, (it's way too glossy to pass for camp).

Shot in Eastman Colour it's certainly easy on the eye and whatever Silvana Venturelli lacks in acting talent she undoubtedly makes up for in looks. The only 'name' in the cast is Frank Wolff who, despite some energetic humping, doesn't look particularly happy. (he committed suicide only three years later). Perhaps best seen as a curio it's just weird enough to be of passing interest.

SHAKE HANDS WITH THE DEVIL

 "Shake Hands with the Devil" isn't much of a movie and its plot, set during the Irish War of Independence, takes some swallowing and yet in its crude way it's highly entertaining. James Cagney, sporting an atrocious Irish accent, is the IRA (here simply referred to as The Organization), commander who takes his role perhaps more seriously than might be necessary, Don Murray is the young Irish-American who is drawn into 'the cause', Dana Wynter, the English girl who is taken hostage and Glynis Johns, again sporting another atrocious Irish accent, the colleen in love with Murray.

The excellent cast also includes Michael Redgrave as 'The General' (I'll take the role but I'm not putting on an Irish accent) and Dame Sybil Thorndike as Lady Fitzhugh, (Countess Markievicz in all but name), while the Irish players include Richard Harris, Donal Donnelly, Cyril Cusack and Ray McNally. Politically it's all over the shop; is it pro-IRA? pro-British? Or are we just meant to enjoy it as another Cagney gangster movie in an Irish setting? Regardless, it's a cracking yarn well directed by Michael Anderson and clearly aimed at the American market. Just don't take it too seriously.

HUNDREDS OF BEAVERS

 It isn't very often that you are tempted to call a film unique but "Hundreds of Beavers" is definitely one of a kind, a wordless, if not silent, black and white slapstick comedy that could have come from the very dawn of cinema but is, in fact, visually highly sophisticated. It is the product of the imagination of Mike Cheslik, (director and co-writer), and the delightfully named Ryland Brickson Cole Tews, (star and fellow co-writer), and it looks like a Guy Maddin film though it's much funnier than anything Maddin ever did.

I won't even attempt to describe the plot or lack of one except to say it all takes place in some icy wilderness, has one leading actor, (Tews), a few supporting actors and a lot of people dressed as bears, beavers, wolves, rabbits etc. and that the opening credits only appear after the movie has been on for about 30 minutes or so and that we aren't given the title until well past the hour mark. It won't be to everyone's taste but if you're a fan of Pythonesque comedy you'll find a lot to like here. A true cult classic,

KINGS OF THE ROAD

 Wim Wenders' "Kings of the Road" comes as close to naturalism, or to what I prefer to call 'actuality', as cinema gets. While the narrative relies heavily on the tropes of narrative cinema the presentation is anything but conventional. Wenders allows his film to evolve in a way that seems wholly to belong to the characters on the screen and not to the actors, the writer or the director, (Wenders, in both cases).

There is a plot of sorts. Bruno, (Rudiger Vogler), travels to towns along the East German border repairing cinema equipment. Robert, (Hanns Zischler), is the man who drives his car into a river while Bruno is having a rest break and who then settles into the passenger seat of Bruno's truck. They travel together, never quite becoming friends. It's almost as if Wender's allows them control over their own stories with both actors simply becoming the characters they are playing.

It's a long film, (three hours). with little resembling narrative action. It's like a documentary with a few divertissements along the way reminding us that however naturalistic it might seem it's only a 'film' after all, (a pick-up in a cinema that is neither sexual or romantic, 'borrowing' a motorcycle for a jaunt into the past). It is also a love letter to cinema and to American cinema in particular, a road movie about movies that should please the most ardent of cinephiles and which is certainly the equal of "Wings of Desire" and "Paris, Texas" in the Wenders' canon.