Snow White and the Huntsmen (2012)

Irony has a queen: “Twilight” Sulk Queen Kristen Stewart plays a woman more fare than Charlize Theron in “Snow White and The Huntsman.” The former is, of course, the orphaned princess whose life is ruined by her evil step-momma (Theron). This version skews toward horror with director Rupert Sanders laying on the foreboding atmosphere thick as Tim Burton in “Sleepy Hollow,” before it jumps into a WTF war film of castle storming. Snow White as Aragorn? Yep. Every time my cinematic soul jumped at a great visual or beloved actor –- Bob Hoskins! –- it was dashed by the banality of ripped ideas from other movies. A beefcake love triangle for our heroine, with the Huntsman (Chris Hemsworth) versus a prince (Sam Clafin) begs the question: Who thought that was a good idea? Neither man sparkles in sunlight. Theron oozes darkest evil, roaring over everyone as a sickly twisted feminist from hell. Best bit: The magic mirror on the wall is merely a warped delusion of her sick mind. Stewart is uninspiring and flat, her suddenly-a-bad-ass-warrior let’s-kick-ass “Braveheart” speech is a snicker. The second Snow White dud of 2012. C-

The Raggedy Rawney (1988)

Bob Hoskins’ retirement due to severe illness put me in a slump, so I’m on a kick to watch his films. His big-screen directorial debut “Raggedy Rawney” is an anti-war drama about a band of European gypsies (led by Hoskins) circa maybe World War II -- the exact country and conflict is left unknown to us -- who come across a shell-shocked AWOL soldier (Dexter Fletcher) who has disguised himself as a mute woman, smeared crazily with makeup to appear as a mix of witch/raccoon/Ziggy Stardust. Hoskins’ Darky accepts the waif as a rawney, a mad woman with mystical powers. The boy plays along, falls for Darky’s teenage daughter (Zoe Nathenson), and avoids the army he deserted. It’s an intriguing film, co-written by Hoskins, of a culture alien to most Americans. Characters, even incidental ones, are given great quick shades. But some plotting is heavy-handed, and I still can’t see how the clan continue to not see through the sexual ruse. Hoskins naturally rules the film, playing rage, joy, heartbreak, and distress like no other actor. The inevitable final scenes hit hard. B

The Long Good Friday (1980)

“The Long Good Friday” is an absolute pinnacle classic gangster film in the U.K., place of my birth. Here in the States, not so much. It may not have glory and prestige of “The Godfather” or “Goodfellas,” but it belongs in the same esteemed crime family. This is a hard-scrapple bitchin’ bloody mafia flick about a common London mafia thug who has risen to the level of Godfather, and now he wants to go legit.

It’s 1979, and in several years’ time, the city is expected to play host to the Olympics. (It’s fictional, youz guys.) Harold Shand (Bob Hoskins) wants to buy up London’s real estate abutting the Thames River for development, with promised riches beyond compare to come. His investors? The American Mob. Guy ain’t going legit, just thinks he is, or tells us he is. Oh, but the IRA is bugging about, as one of his men has double-crossed them, and ended up knifed in a gay bathhouse.

The title is on purpose. It’s a long and bloody Easter weekend when Shant’s mob life goes to a violent hell, with bombings, murders, and threats galore, and one man will end up nailed Jesus-style to a floor. Hopkins has never been better or scarier, or more volatile, you can smell the brimstone coming off the guy through the TV set. When he rips a man’s throat apart with a broken whiskey bottle, it’s still a shocker, even on a 10th viewing. (I love this film.)

Helen Mirren is just amazing as Shants’ girlfriend-slash-brutal brains of the mob operation; every equal smarts to Hopkins’ brutality. She has to be one of the greatest actresses ever, period, end of story. Royally good. I will not stoop to a “Queen” joke, err, damn. Sorry.

The film starts off a puzzle box, with seemingly random scenes of dealings and bar hook ups and body dumps, all coming together at the end, in a wordless climax that should have won Hopkins an Oscar and can stand aside any scene in the more well-known films made by Coppola or Scorsese. Scotsman John Mackenzie is the director. He never made a better film and he died without merely a blip in the news this past June. Criminal indeed. (I cannot say I have seen his other work.)

Oh, and bonus points for “Remington Steele” and James Bond fans, this is Piece Brosnan’s first film rule, and he plays a wordless assassin who goes from man-on-man bathhouse shower action, I mean the kind that would send GOP voters into shock, to killer in a flash. But, hey, he uses a gun, so GOP voters will dig that, eh? Seriously, if you dig crime film, watch this, then put it in your collection. A+

Mona Lisa (1986)

The crime noir film “Mona Lisa” put writer/director Neil Jordan on the map, giving him the power to make “The Crying Game.” The latter is a classic tale of an IRA terrorist who meets a woman not … well, you must see it. It’s mesmerizing, erotic, shocking, violent, bold and completely unforgettable. “Mona Lisa”? It’s all of those adjectives, but at half pace. Bob Hoskins is a Z-grade mobster just released from prison, and expecting gratitude from his boss (Michael Caine) and family. He’s wrong on both counts. George is instead stuck driving a high-class call girl (Cathy Tyson) to and from appointments. Of course he falls for her. And, of course, she has a heart of gold. Even art-house movies have rules. Hoskins kills. No other actor can do seething angry Limey as well as Hoskins. Tyson’s Lady of the Night is so kindly, I just did not buy her. So to speak. Jordan employs a great music and a gritty dark humor. I know every critic loves this film. me? Eh. B

Brazil (1985)

"Brazil" is George Orwell to the max, with sickly twisted Monty Python humor and a shocking bit of violence, smash-mixed for an extra sharp jab at a futuristic life under a corporate/government microscope. It is the hands-down best Terry Gilliam time warp/mind screw, and the man likes to screw with minds. Jonathan Pryce is the hero -- a cubicle cog battling and yet loyal to his incompetent boss (Ian Holm) and his rich mother (Katherine Helmond) -- who finds himself falling in love with (or is stalking) a beautiful woman (Kim Geist) who may be a terrorist. The supporting cast includes Jim Broadbent, Robert De Niro, Michael Palin, and a creepy/funny Bob Hoskins. The film is a delirious and literal fever dream, where fantasy sequences meld into the "reality" going on in the mad world where all is gray, and life is one paperwork form after the other, and the world is soulless. If Gilliam's long 140-odd minute version is a mess (repetition, scenes that dead end) under certain viewing, it's a fuckin' brilliant one. A masterpiece, even. A