This Is Halloween! - My Favourite Horror Films

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Tobe Hooper, 1974)

Visceral, brutal and utterly terrifying. This low-budget slasher flick was quickly branded a video nasty leading to widespread bans, but upon contemporary viewing, Hooper's flesh-ripping nightmare is actually incredibly well-crafted. Despite what the title may suggest, very little real violence is actually shown and is instead left to audience suggestion, while the use of sound is sublime - most notably in the notorious dinnertime sequence, with Marilyn Burns' desperate screams dominating the audio for the duration of the scene, turning the viewing experience into a nightmarish test of endurance. Stark, vicious and unforgettable.

The Exorcist (William Friedkin, 1973)

The grandaddy of dramatic horror flicks, The Exorcist harbours the same power to shock and unsettle audiences today as it did upon its initial release. Director Friedkin transforms the simple story of a young girl possessed into a slow-burning tale of evil, corruption and an omnipresent menace. The iconic Tubular Bells score perfectly sets the atmosphere for the film and Regan's gradual transformation from poorly young girl to demonic abhorrence is so expertly crafted that by the time the narrative reaches its climax, the audience's nerve lies in tatters.

Halloween (John Carpenter, 1978)

The teen slasher that set the benchmark for an entire genre. Carpenter's original masterwork proved so effective that it can be blamed for the slew of cookie-cutter slasher flicks that followed in subsequent decades, not least its own seven piss-poor sequels. But Halloween remains triumphant, and may be revisited again and again without losing any of its scare-power. Carpenter's use of lighting is superb - every set is obscured by shadows, allowing the killer to hide in the corner of any frame. Such technique lets Carpenter get away with showing very little real violence; the true horror lies not in what the audience sees, but in what it thinks it sees. Similarly, Carpenter's brilliantly simple musical score, and his use of first-person camera to force the audience to see through the killer's eyes and hear his heavy breathing as he stalks his victims, contribute to Halloween's unique and everlasting power to terrify.

Wall-E (Andrew Stanton, 2008)

Pixar have long held a reputation for quality and originality, with every one of their features opening to huge critical praise and audience appreciation. But at the time of its release, Wall-E harboured something a little extra special. As the ninth feature film in the Pixar canon, the quiet tale of a lonely robot labourer and his love of a sleek, ultra-modern bot named EVE, Wall-E was released to rapturous applause from critics and was hailed as revolutionary filmmaking. Indeed, while Toy Story received a similar reception as the first CGI movie, Wall-E was hailed as a brilliant film in its own right, praised for its emotional depth - despite the lack of dialogue - and its appreciation of golden-age cinema.

For the most part, Stanton's film holds up against such praise. The central character of Wall-E is brilliantly executed; adorable, charming and expressive, he's like a cross between R2D2 and E.T. His love of artificial objects is hilarious and his obsession with the music of Hello Dolly is almost unbearably sweet. Similarly, it's great to see the development of EVE as she transforms from an aggressive corporate machine to an inquisitive character who slowly comes to notice the affections of the chirruping Wall-E. The quality of the animation is superb and the artwork - in particular the first sweeping shots of desolate planet Earth - is absolutely stunning.

Yet Wall-E isn't entirely flawless. While the likes of Toy Story was funny, exciting and engaging throughout its brief runtime, Wall-E suffers from huge lulls and an overtly preachy storyline. The film's narrative - of Earth in the not-too-distant-future becoming litter-strewn and uninhabitable is very topical, and the imagining of the human race as obese, technology-dependent slobs dwelling in outer-space is funny yet believable vision of our descendants, yet these elements often fail to engage. Certainly younger audiences will love the scenes of Wall-E studying items in the wasteland or causing havoc aboard the space station but will likely doze off in the sequences involving the station's captain studying organic life.

Such flaws, however, are incredibly minor in the grand scheme of Wall-E. It may not be Pixar's very best, but it remains among the most impressive animated films of all time. Its great humour and charm despite the lack of dialogue is truly exceptional and the artistic vision captured by Stanton is simply beautiful. 

The Godfather (Francis Ford Coppola, 1972)

So I finally got round to watching the ultimate American movie. Largely regarded as one of the greatest films ever made, it's odd that I've managed to avoid The Godfather for such a long time. Despite warnings of its extreme length, slow pace and grim violence, I really enjoyed the film and largely agree with its status as a landmark in filmmaking.

Certainly it has stood the test of time remarkably well. Coppola crafted his masterpiece back in 1972. 1972! This was a cinematic era in which Hitchcock was still active, and in which films were still regularly produced in black-and-white. It's amazing to view this lavish, boldly violent and expertly-crafted film in such a context. The saturated colour pallet, incredible acting talent and starkly vicious scenes remain deeply impressive three decades on.

As a newbie to The Godfather, I was surprised at how little screentime the Don himself is afforded. As the eponymous Sicilian crime lord, Brando has endured as a screen icon, and it is his face that adorns the posters and DVD covers. And yet the central character of the narrative is undoubtedly Al Pacino's Michael Corleone - the reluctant son who gradually ascends to replace Brando as the head of the family. Pacino actually boycotted the Academy Awards that year, having been nominated for best supporting actor while Brando was up for the lead actor award. Nevertheless, the presence of Brando's Godfather lurks throughout the film. It truly is an awesome performance - at first I found his mumbling approach over-the-top and laughable yet it quickly becomes apparent that he got it absolutely spot on, making the Don an awe-inspiring and surprisingly sympathetic character. Brando was, of course, rewarded with an Oscar statuette yet he failed to collect it, having boycotted the ceremony along with Pacino, albeit for different reasons.

The film's pace may be slow but only because it needs to be. The narrative encompasses a broad time frame and charters the gradually changing attitudes and statuses of the various members of the notorious Corleone family. The story is constantly gripping and the violence, while a dominant and obviously necessary element of the film, is sparsely utilised and often impressively staged - the shooting in the restaurant and the murder of Moe Greene are especially notable for their orchestration and ingenuity.

With so many strings to its bow, The Godfather's crowning glory is undoubtedly its cast. While Marlon Brando reigns supreme as Don Vito, the other members of the Corleone family are also brilliantly portrayed. Indeed, through Vito's children we can observe a fresh generation of Hollywood stars surfacing. The then-unknown Al Pacino is perfect as the tormented young Michael who is slowly drawn into the life of crime he initially desired to evade, and he is backed up by the likes of James Caan as his brother Sonny, Diane Keaton as his eventual wife Kay and Robert Duvall as Vito's right-hand man. The fact that this fresh-faced supporting cast are all now esteemed movie giants (Keaton and Duvall have since earned Oscars) and approaching their seventies and eighties, further emphasises the legacy and influence of Coppola's grandiose gangster flick.

The grandaddy of the crime genre and a film that firmly reinforces America as the world's leading movie-making nation, The Godfather achieves everything it sets out to do and, more than any other, is a film I wish I'd gotten round to watching a long time ago.

The Iron Giant (Brad Bird, 1999)

Without a major brand name like Pixar  or Dreamworks attached, the stand-alone marvel that is The Iron Giant can easily be overlooked in the world of cinema animation. And as an initial box-office flop, recouping less than a third of its budget, the film's recognition as a landmark piece of cartoon history has been all too gradual.

The directorial debut of Brad Bird (former Simpsons scribe and future Pixar wunderkind), The Iron Giant is as much a homage to great sci-fi cinema as it is an engaging family animation. The story is set in 50s America and centres on an imaginative young scamp named Hogarth who, after watching a hammy monster movie on TV, suddenly finds a monster of his very own. In the forest behind his suburban home, a path of devastation leads to a colossal extra-terrestrial being of unknown origin.

In the fashion of monster movies such as King Kong, the eponymous Iron Giant is scary at first; stomping after the terrified Hogarth and destroying everything in its path; before establishing itself as a gentle, misunderstood soul, hopelessly lost in the hostile world of humans. Before long, boy and giant develop a loving Elliot/E.T. style relationship. The characters are brilliantly brought to life and wonderfully entertaining - Hogarth is a likeable child character of the Stand By Me crowd (though his voice is a little grating), while the Giant is as expressive and lovable as Wall-E. This heartwarming tale of friendship is accompanied by a rich cast that joyfully embellishes the 1950s setting, from paranoid townsfolk raving about communist invasion and "sputniks" to shifty government agents intent on suppressing the truth. And all this is wrapped up with a generous helping of sharp, Simpsons-esque humour and visually striking animation techniques.

Indeed, what makes The Iron Giant so hugely special is the volume of cinematic technique involved. While the animation alone is impressive (particularly the fluid use of CGI within the 2D animation), the utilisation of light and shadow (the giant's illuminating eyes, Hogarth's torchlit search of the forest), depth-of-focus and swooping panoramic camera shots demonstrate Bird's clear understanding of cinematic direction as a whole. It could even be argued that this quirky little cartoon film showcases greater filmmaking skills than many a big-budget live-action film.

A stand-alone marvel that could be more comfortably grouped with the lovingly-crafted works of Studio Ghibli than any of its American contemporaries, The Iron Giant remains an unsung classic in the world of family animation.

In The News: Pete Doherty's Film Debut Is Slated

With his pale face, ruffled hair and artistic soul, Pete Doherty could easily have stepped right out of a Tim Burton movie. It could be naturally assumed then, that the notorious rocker might prove to be a revelation onscreen. But, somewhat predictably, Doherty's acting debut has gone the same way as many musicians before him - dreadfully.

Currently competing in the Un Certain Regard section of Cannes Film Festival, Confessions Of A Child Of The Century has been gleefully torn apart by critics. The film sees Doherty play a nineteenth century Parisian libertine who, after being betrayed by his mistress, sinks into a life of debauchery and depression before falling for beautiful stranger Charlotte Gainsbourg. The Guardian's Catherine Shoard highlights the "shambling amateurism of Doherty's line-reading, his sixth-form fidgets, his uncertain eyes" as particular causes for concern and labels the entire film as "insufferable".

Better luck next time Pete. Actually no, let's nip this in the bud now. Please never act again Pete. 

And, in honour of Mr. Doherty, here's a list of the worst camera-hogging, attention seeking pop stars and the movies they ruined:

Sting (Dune) - The weird world of David Lynch got a little too weird when Sting appeared onscreen in nothing but a pair of dainty Y-fronts. Disturbing.

David Bowie (Labyrinth) - Another godawful popstar crotch moment was via David Bowie as the Goblin King in Jim Henson's Labyrinth, with the popstar's squashed genitals providing more felt-based animation than any of Henson's master puppeteers.

Madonna (Swept Away) - Madonna's curse within the movie industry is summed up perfectly with this abomination.

Keith Richards (Pirates Of The Caribbean: At World's End) - A promising movie franchise quickly developed into cheesy box-office crud, with Keith Richards driving the last nail home as Johnny Depp's dad.

David Bowie (Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me) - Bowie makes the list twice, this time wounding the perfect world of Twin Peaks in the ultimate cameo-noone-asked-for.

Dreams Of A Life (Carol Morley, 2011)

One of the most harrowing tabloid stories of recent times finally finds its way to the big screen in this sensitive documentary feature that attempts at long last to unravel the mystery behind Joyce Carol Vincent - the woman society forgot about.

The story of Joyce is as lurid as it is mysterious. In January 2006, council officials broke down the door of a grimy London bedsit with the intent to evict its tenant. Upon entering, they discovered that the tenant, Joyce Vincent, had long since departed, leaving behind her corpse which had been rotting undisturbed for over two years, surrounded by Christmas presents that she had just wrapped.

The discovery acted as a stunning signal of societal failure and begged many questions - how could a young woman simply disappear unnoticed? The Christmas presents proved that she had close friends in her life so why hadn't anyone reported her missing? And, in one of the most disconcerting elements of the case, the television had remained on the entire time, perpetually throwing flickering images over the corpse of Joyce. Had noone visited the flat regarding the huge unpaid electricity bill? And with a foul stench and swarms of flies engulfing the tiny bedsit, why hadn't any neighbours or the landlord investigated? Filmmaker Carol Morley sensitively attempts to paint a picture of the woman behind the headlines, having tracked down a wide collection of Joyce's friends and loved ones, who express grief, regret and disbelief over the sad fate of this most mysterious woman.

For the most part, Morley navigates away from the grim details of the manner of Joyce's death and discovery, which have been much discussed in the tabloid newspapers already (one interviewee describes her body as having "melted into the carpet", and we really need know no more than that). Instead, Morley takes the sensitive and more intriguing route of attempting to establish who Joyce was as a person. Tabloid journalists had discovered almost nothing about her and not a single image of her was included in the newspaper articles, making it hard for anybody to truly identify with her. But, owing to a persistent campaign appealing for anyone who may have known Joyce, Morley has managed to gather an astonishing collection of interesting, pleasant contemporaries (ranging from old schoolfriends and past boyfriends to ex-housemates and work colleagues) who paint a picture of a vibrant young woman who drew attention wherever she went, had a talent for singing, and had enjoyed encounters with Isaac Hayes, Nelson Mandela and Stevie Wonder.  The testimonies, accompanied by dramatic reconstructions, make the idea of Joyce's fate all the more cryptic and desperately tragic.

Through the interviews, we learn that, due to the positive image of Joyce that her peers held of her, and the lack of photographs or personal information in the newspapers, not one of her friends made the connection, instead holding the belief that she must be leading an enviable lifestyle far away from the grim reality of her existence. Her friend's admission that she will forever feel uncomfortable with the fact that she so easily lost touch with Joyce, and her ex-boyfriend's anguished tears as he imagines rescuing her from her dire situation stand as some of the most powerful pieces of documentary footage from recent years. The reconstructions, in which Joyce is sensitively portrayed by actress Zawe Ashton, are appropriately underplayed, while creative aspects such as the use of the dusty television set (that which illuminated Joyce's skeleton all that time) to screen some of the talking heads, are stunningly powerful. 

Unsurprisingly, the documentary fails to truly shed any more light on how such a positive, popular young woman came to die in so cruel and lonely a manner (one old friend insists she must have been murdered, while the rest appear resigned to the fact that we will never know the cause of death), but it excels in finally giving a life and voice to the person behind the tabloid scoop, an achievement that cannot be overstated.

The Dictator (Larry Charles, 2012)

Sacha Baron Cohen, Britain's ballsiest comic actor, returns to the big screen with yet another outrageous character. Having exhausted his established characters (Ali G, Borat and Bruno), he now presents us with an entirely original creation - psychotic dictator Admiral General Aladeen. The narrative revolves around the general's mission to travel to America in order to defend his right to oppress his beloved country, Wadiya. However, upon arriving in New York, Aladeen finds himself in the midst of an assassination attempt and, upon escaping, he must learn to live as an ordinary person whilst seeking to win back his identity. Unlike Cohen's aforementioned alter-egos, which were tried and tested on the small screen for years before hitting the cinemas, the never-before-seen Aladeen was a distinct gamble.

And in my view, Cohen lost the bet. While effectively lampooning tyrants such as Colonel Gadaffi, Cohen's Aladeen emanates far too much broad comedy, suffocating the underlying razor-sharp satire. Indeed, while  scenes such as Aladeen breaking into giggles whilst attempting to justify his ownership of a nuclear missile, and his impassioned yet ironic speech about the differences between dictatorship and democracy demonstrate Cohen's trademark skewering abilities, the few-too-many crude jokes and lazy stereotypes make for a cringe-filled viewing experience.

Perhaps The Dictator's main downfall is the fact that, unlike Cohen's previous fly-on-the-wall approaches, his new outing is a conventional narrative-based feature. While the likes of Borat found its comedic strength in Cohen's unique ability to improvise effortlessly without breaking character, teasing comedy out of his targets and revealing society's major flaws and prejudices in the process, The Dictator must stick to a script that, quite frankly, isn't very good. In addition to the poor writing efforts, the character of Aladeen just isn't as well-realised as Cohen's other creations, which he spent years perfecting, and appears to have simply stepped out of a bad Saturday Night Live sketch. Meanwhile, Anna Faris seems exploited by a script that envisions her as a hairy armpitted, whining hippy-type, while Ben Kingsley is similarly demeaned as Aladeen's sour-faced, treacherous advisor.

The finished film ultimately has the feel of a bad episode of South Park; a narrative that contains some truly hilarious absurdist moments (a falling turd knocking a woman unconscious and some childish antics involving a severed head) and some utterly merciless satire (the film is "dedicated to the loving memory of Kim Jong-Il), but is carried along the way by  wank gags, slapstick cliches and lazy humour (a stupid character survives a bullet to the head; Aladeen cries "he's lucky, it hit him in the brain!" Sigh.). Sad to see such an intelligent, versatile comedian off his game but, let's face it, with Cohen's back catalogue, he can afford this one misfire.

The Wild Rumpus Ends: Remembering Maurice Sendak (10th June 1928 - 8th May 2012)

Having recently paid tribute to the memory of Jim Henson, I now have to acknowledge the death of a similar creative visionary. Maurice Sendak, American writer and illustrator, passed away yesterday aged eighty-three.

Born in Brooklyn to Polish Jewish immigrants, Sendak endured a childhood clouded by the shadow of death. The majority of his extended family had perished in the Holocaust, exposing Sendak to the bleak reality of human cruelty, suffering and death from a very early age. The young Sendak would find escape in the works of Walt Disney, and his fascination with animation led to his career as an author and illustrator.

Of course, Sendak's most famous work is that landmark of children's literature, Where The Wild Things Are. This story, almost wordless, has proved timeless due to Sendak's vivid, fantastical, and rather dark imagery, which was clearly influenced in no small part by his sombre upbringing. Wild Things tells the tale of Max, a rebellious little boy in a white wolf costume who, having been banished to his bedroom without dinner, dreams up the magical world of the Wild Things - lumbering beasts with vicious teeth and huge staring eyes - and joins them in a "wild rumpus". Though deemed controversial at the time due to the scary appearance of Sendak's creations, Where The Wild Things Are went on to gain great acclaim, not merely for the skill of the author's hand but for its ability to engage children and convey the darker emotions of childhood.

Wild Things saw many adaptations, including an operatic stage show and a live-action movie directed by Spike Jonze. Jonze's film, despite greatly expanding upon Sendak's original story, nevertheless captured the imagery and emotions that infused it. Jonze had worked closely with Sendak in developing the film - Sendak himself had approved of the director, stating that "he was young and interesting and had a spark that none of the others had" - and the author was tremendously pleased with the end result, hailing Jonze as "a real artist who's not afraid of himself and lets it come through in his work" and stating that "he's touched me very much". Jim Henson would certainly have approved of the finished film which favoured elaborate costumes and puppetry over CGI (Henson and Sendak had actually worked together previously in the early days of Sesame Street).

After a string of other successes and a generally very colourful career, Sendak died on the morning of May 8th 2012 due to complications from a stroke. He was praised in The New York Times' obituary as "the most important children's book illustrator of the 20th century".

And so, sadly the world loses another creative genius whose work transcends generations and will continue to do so. Rest in peace Maurice Sendak and may your wild rumpus forever continue.

"Oh, please don't go - we'll eat you up - we love you so."

Maurice Sendak (1928 - 2012)

The Rainbow Connection: Remembering Jim Henson (Sept 24th 1936 - May 16th 1990)

As we approach the 22nd anniversary of Jim Henson's death, it's interesting to look back upon his fascinating career, the characters and franchises he built, and the ways in which his creations have evolved since his passing. 

It's over 50 years since Kermit the Frog first made his appearance on Sam and Friends - Henson's first foray into televised puppetry - and it's incredible to see that the fuzzy amphibian remains in the public eye, continuing his creator's mission to entertain as wide an audience as possible. Indeed, the recent big-screen outing for the Muppets has proved the franchise's most successful to date, having taken box office receipts of over $100 million. It's reassuring that the work of such a well-loved and benevolent dreamer has proved to be so enduring, but the journey of Henson and the Muppets has not been entirely smooth. Encountering rejection and abandonment, Kermit and co. have experienced hardship as well as adoration from their initial conception, through the demise of their inventor, to their recent return to the spotlight.

It all began in the fifties, with the success of Sam and Friends, a regular five-minute TV segment that secured Henson's reputation as an incredibly inventive puppeteer and led to a prosperous career in advertising as well as guest spots on variety shows. During this period Henson met writer Jerry Juhl and aspiring puppeteer Frank Oz. The latter would become one of Henson's closest friends and collaborators, performing the Bert to Jim's Ernie and the Miss Piggy to his Kermit. 

With Juhl and Oz on his team, Henson's first major break came in the form of an experimental children's TV show entitled Sesame Street. Through Henson's involvement, the likes of Bert and Ernie, Big Bird, Oscar the Grouch and the Cookie Monster became household names. Henson's technical skill as a puppeteer was clear from the start but what gradually shone through was his ability to engage with his audience. The warmth and softness with which he performed his characters delighted children and Sesame Street continues to be enjoyed to this day, its popularity showing no signs of deteriorating.

However, not content with this single achievement, Henson harboured the ambition to create an all-puppet comedy series that could be enjoyed by viewers of all ages. But despite the success of Sesame Street and Henson's overall renown, The Muppet Show was considered to risky a venture by television executives and the pitch was rejected by every major network in America. At a loss, Henson finally set his sites on the UK and was ultimately invited by ITV mogul Lew Grade to create the Muppet Show in Britain. This unique creation saw Henson truly find his voice (figuratively and literally) in the show's host, an old bit-character from Sam and Friends named Kermit the Frog, who instantly gained the adoration of viewers around the world. Possibly the key to Kermit's appeal was the extent to which he reflected the persona of his operator. Like Jim, Kermit was a kind, patient and eternally-optimistic character who managed to find success and happiness in a world of louder, wilder types.

Along with Kermit, The Muppet Show introduced such acts as stand-up comedian Fozzie Bear, daredevil stuntman Gonzo the Great and culinary maestro Swedish Chef. With its endearing and lovingly-performed characters, full-length musical numbers, surreal sketches and off-the-wall sense of humour, the show achieved astronomical popularity. With guest stars queuing up to appear alongside the Muppets and an ever-expanding fanbase, it appeared that Henson had finally reached his audience and the show was renewed for five seasons and nominated for 21 Emmy Awards.

Yet Henson continued to aim higher, planning evermore elaborate and exciting projects for his puppet creations. In 1979, Henson's Muppets made their first transition to the big screen with The Muppet Movie, which explored the backgrounds of the characters and their journey to stardom. The feature was a triumph with critics and audiences alike and Kermit's song "Rainbow Connection" - a melody now closely associated with the legacy and personality of Henson - was nominated for an Academy Award. Two more Muppet features followed while Henson, along with Oz, also wrote and directed The Dark Crystal (1982), a dark fantasy very much removed from the Muppets, proving the limitless nature of Henson's imagination and talents. However, the poorly-received Labyrinth (1986) had a bitter impact (though it would later become a cult favourite). The muted reception to this project was a minor blemish on Henson's otherwise sensational body of work, but the disappointment it caused him led him to move abroad for a brief period to absorb and overcome his sense of failure, demonstrating his introverted nature and intense personal dedication to his craft.

Despite this minor setback, Henson enjoyed renewed success with projects such as Fraggle Rock, The Storyteller and the unusual family sitcom Dinosaurs. Henson himself continued to appear on talk shows - often with Kermit by his shoulder - and his gentle, kindly persona would always be distinctly conveyed. However, in May 1990, Henson began to complain of sickness and fatigue. Maintaining that he would get better, he remained at home with his wife - from whom he was by then separated - until he began to cough up blood and experienced difficulty breathing. Within hours, he had descended into cardiac arrest and on the morning of May 16th 1990, it was announced that Jim Henson had died at the age of 53. 

As the ultimate dreamer; a quiet man and gentle soul who nevertheless achieved great success and captured the imaginations and hearts of millions, it seemed implausible that he could leave the world in so sudden and cruel a manner. With no prior indication of his creativity and popularity abating, his loyal team and his beloved Muppet creations were all at once left sadly suspended, their futures uncertain. After all, how could a franchise that so utterly encapsulated the soul and voice of its creator possibly continue after the death of the man himself? After an emotional yet colourful funeral service, Henson's fellow puppeteers, despite their overwhelming grief, gave the world an answer by delivering a televised performance that saw the Muppet characters pay tribute to their creator. The performance concluded with Henson's alter-ego Kermit the Frog reclaiming centre stage (now voiced by veteran muppeteer Steve Whitmire) to assure his fans that the Muppets would return because "that's the way the boss would want it."

While this may have brought comfort to Henson's audience, Kermit's promise ultimately appeared somewhat unattainable. Though the Dickensian A Muppets Christmas Carol (1992) proved an eduringly charming festive tale, The Muppets Treasure Island (1996) appeared somewhat lacklustre while Muppets From Space (1999) forced Henson's furry friends to endure their first taste of public disinterest. Without their master at the helm, the Muppet team missed their mark and the characters, now under the Disney banner, were hastily shelved, going on to occasionally reappear for a few painfully low-quality small-screen productions such as The Muppets Wizard of Oz and A Very Merry Muppet Christmas. While Henson's Creature Shop continued to apply the legendary puppeteer's skills to major productions, his beloved Muppets, whom carried the heart and soul of the man, seemed destined for the scrapheap of history.

This sad fate appeared to be final until 2008, when their salvation appeared in the unlikely form of Jason Segal, a comic actor famed for his work with Judd Apatow and for his role on sitcom How I Met Your Mother. A lifelong fan, Segal developed a script that gained the approval of Disney executives and, with a strong viral marketing campaign and support from major Hollywood players, the Muppets found themselves back in the public embrace. The film, simply titled The Muppets acted as a loveletter to Henson's original creation, with Kermit and the gang reuniting for one last variety show. Though viewed with derision by some of Henson's now retired colleagues (including Oz), Segal's film enjoyed vast critical and commercial success, achieving the greatest profit and strongest reviews of all Muppet movies to date and earning an Academy Award for best original song (the same award Henson's "Rainbow Connection" had been previously nominated for). And with a sequel already secured, it's clear that Henson's greatest creation has a lot of life left in it.

Though the Muppets' current circumstances may not be entirely as Henson would have envisioned, he would surely be pleased to know that his cherished characters could continue to delight new generations so many years after his death. As a man, he continues to be fondly remembered for his kind nature and generosity. As a performer, he has become legendary as a visionary craftsman and unrivalled entertainer. A quiet person who proved that belief, determination and passion can realise the dreams of even the unlikeliest of people, his story is a truly inspirational one and his creations are among the most instantly-recognisable, enduringly-charming and universally beloved in the history of entertainment. The incredible shows and films that modern audiences may have been blessed with had he lived, can only now be envisioned by the dreamers.

May you continue to be fondly remembered Jim, and may your legacy continue to deliver laughter and comfort to the world.

"Life's like a movie. Write your own ending. Keep believing. Keep Pretending."

Jim Henson. 1936-1990.

Pinocchio (Walt Disney, 1940)

Walt Disney's second major motion picture deviates greatly from his debut Snow White, ditching the princess-in-peril storyline for that of a wooden puppet whose quest to become a real boy sees him experience human weakness and wickedness. The film begins with the narrator, a cheerful be-suited cricket named Jiminy, encountering eccentric carpenter Gepetto and learning of his desire to have his marionette puppet become a real boy. After wishing upon a star, Gepetto is visited by a mysterious blue fairy who grants his wish, allowing Pinocchio to take on life, albeit still in wooden form. The fairy promises that, should Pinocchio prove himself brave, truthful and unselfish, she will grant the wish completely and turn him into a real boy. And so, with Jiminy Cricket as his conscience, Pinocchio sets off into the real world, determined to be the best human he can.

The film's animation style is strikingly inventive right from the get-go. From a POV shot of Jiminy Cricket hopping into Gepetto's workshop, to a weirdly-morphing Pinocchio as seen from inside a goldfish bowl, to the thrilling undersea chase as puppet and co. escape from the belly of a whale, it is clear that Disney Studios were out to stress their status as masters of animation.

Though while the animation may be strong, the film is not without its shortcomings. Pinocchio is so innocent and naive that it's actually quite distressing to see him tricked and exploited time and again, whether it be by the charmingly sly Honest John, the sinister puppeteer Stromboli or the downright terrifying Coachman, whose sadistic scheme to turn unruly boys into donkeys for labour is among Disney's most pitch black moments. The scene in which a tiny donkey in a sailor outfit pleads tearfully with the Coachman and his monstrous cronies only to find himself at the end of a lashing whip, seems straight out of a Brothers Grimm tale, and is clearly far too dark for even the hardiest child to endure. And that's before we encounter the aptly-named Monstro, an enormous, bloodthirsty whale intent on devouring every possible protagonist. Indeed, while many believe Bambi to be Disney's most melancholy tale, Pinocchio makes a strong case otherwise.

However, despite its many moments of bleakness, Pinocchio also contains some truly joyous sequences. Gepetto dancing with his beloved puppet as his collection of eccentric clocks chime, Pinocchio performing his first "no-strings-attached" puppet show and his ultimate transformation into a real boy remain timelessly charming. Of course the famous nose-growing scene is great as well, though surprisingly this feat only occurs once in the film. Meanwhile, the ever-fretting Jiminy Cricket and the mischievous Figaro the cat provide plenty of comic relief and the musical numbers are among the best Disney has produced - "When You Wish Upon A Star" remains the company's trademark fanfare as well as the best-known and most celebrated of the studio's songs.

Far too sad and scary to appeal to youngsters in the way later films such as Aladdin and The Lion King do, Pinocchio is nevertheless a charming watch, carrying the less-than-subtle but always important message to be truthful and selfless at all times. More crucially, however, the film introduces the quintessential Disney notion of dreams and self-belief, in that "when you wish upon a star, your dreams come true".

Star Wars (George Lucas, 1977)

Being May 4th, it's only appropriate to discuss the ever-enduring pop culture phenomenon that is Star Wars.

George Lucas' legendary saga Star Wars is simply unrivalled in the world of cinema. What started as an incredibly well-realised piece of fantasy adventure has become an ever-expanding odyssey, delving into animation, comic books, video games and satire, while continuing to be embraced and enjoyed by millions. Indeed, across the globe, there can only be a very small few who remain unaware of Star Wars; who would not recognise the words "wookie", "lightsabre" and "stormtrooper" or instantly identify the first few bars of the epic opening theme.

And, while Lucas may have come under scrutiny from fans in recent years, due to his bizarre lack of creative vision in his prequel saga, his constant tweaking of the original series and his unique ability to "sell out" at every opportunity, the incredible resonance of his initial masterwork must never be understated. The utterly enthralling experience felt by millions upon viewing Star Wars for the first time is one that is rarely replicated in the film world.

While viewed initially as a risky venture, unlikely to find success, looking back it's easy to see why Star Wars struck such a chord with audiences from its theatrical release and beyond. Lucas' deep space epic just seemed to have it all - outlandish characters, roguish heroes, princesses, robots, epic chases, thrilling battles, stunning set pieces, great music, a mature yet comprehensible plot, lots of humour and a dark edge. Kids at the time of its release were captivated and, over the decades, the saga has lost none of its power as those big kids continue to introduce the world of Star Wars to the next generation.

While the first installment, A New Hope, planted the seeds of obsession amongst it audience by introducing the likes of Han Solo, Darth Vader and Obi Wan Kenobi, it was The Empire Strikes Back that truly cemented Lucas' creation in Hollywood legend. The introduction of Frank Oz's backwards-speaking oracle Yoda; Darth Vader's jaw-dropping revelation; Han and Leia's witty romatic back-and-forths and Luke's nightmarish encounter with his worst fears made for cinema magic. And while Return Of The Jedi may widely be viewed as a weaker installment to the series (hello Ewoks), it undeniably contained some fantastic sequences - the battle over the Sarlaac pit; the conflict of Vader as the Emperor attacks his son; the final wooing of Leia by Han and the ghostly silhouettes of Obi Wan, Yoda and Anakin smiling serenely at our heroes; to name but a few.

And despite Lucas' ceaseless wrong-footing ever since, his original saga has proved to be untouchable. While clownish gungans, deaths by broken heart, wooden child actors and CGI Yodas have all inflicted wounds to many a Star Wars fan, they have done nothing to sully the overall power of the incredible first trilogy. And long may its legacy continue.

In the words of Obi Wan: "May the force be with you. Always."

Triumph Of The Avengers

Well, it's proved popular enough to earn itself a BBC headline. Marvel's Avenger's Assemble is dominating the UK box office, taking a cool £15 million in its opening week, after a string of strong reviews. It's good news for writer/director Joss Whedon, who also co-wrote and produced off-the-wall horror The Cabin In The Woods, which currently holds fifth place in the UK chart. And even better news for Marvel Studios, whose ambitious mission to create the ultimate superhero movie has truly paid off, both critically and commercially.

So it's deserved plaudits to Whedon, creator of cult series Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Serenity, co-writer of Toy Story and champion behind writer's-strike-antidote Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog. His screenplay for Avengers proved suitably action-packed but also witty and emotional, while his direction was smooth and assured, allowing the two-and-a-half-hour epic to breeze by without a single lull. Producer Kevin Feige has already hinted at a sequel that could still see Whedon attached, leaving the world to contemplate whether Whedon's winning-streak can possibly continue.

It's a strong start to Blockbuster season, which also sees the release of Chris Nolan's The Dark Knight Rises and Marc Webb's The Amazing Spiderman. Three very strong directors. Three legendary comic book creations. Who will reign supreme?

Alien (Ridley Scott, 1979)

With the enigmatic Prometheus due for release later this month, what better time to revisit Scott's original masterpiece - the film that depicted space not as the mystical final frontier, full of adventure and fanciful creatures as envisioned in Star Wars (released two years earlier). Rather, Scott painted the unexplored realms of space as hostile badlands, where unimaginable monsters dwell.

What makes Alien so deeply terrifying is the perfectly-crafted atmosphere. From the slowly-materialising title in the opening moments to the eerie rows of foreboding egg shapes encountered by Kane (John Hurt), a steadily-building sense of dread is ever present. And the dread is truly justified when one of the eggs slowly creaks open, revealing the first glimpse of extra-terrestrial life in Ridley Scott's vision.

Following Kane's uncomfortable encounter with the nightmarish hatchling, Scott treats us to one of the only graphically-violent moments in the film, the sequence that remains on a par with the shower scene from Psycho as the most legendary moment in cinematic horror - the appropriately-dubbed chestburster scene.

Through Kane's grisly demise, we are introduced to one of the most iconic cinematic monsters of all time, the eponymous Alien. In the view of Ian Holm's character Ash, the Alien was a "perfect creation" in its ability to kill and survive, but this is also true of its enduring legacy as one of the most terrifying beings ever committed to film. The design of the creature is masterfully terrifying - huge phallic head, two snapping mouths, acidic blood and a blade-like tail - and Scott's decision to rarely reveal the alien in full and instead keep it obscured by shadows only adds to the horror, as it slowly and deliberately dispatches every member of the ship's crew, leaving just Sigourney Weaver as the heroic Ripley to finally bring it down.

A triumph of design, atmosphere and performance, Alien remains an enduring landmark of cinema, spawning a franchise that was greatly embellished by James Cameron, fostered by David Fincher and finally run into the ground by Jean Pierre-Jeunet. Who'd have guessed that 33 years down the line, Scott would be revisiting his greatest creation and exploring the creature's mysterious origins. Fingers crossed for another nightmarish masterpiece.

Watch Prometheus trailer.