London Assurance: Northern Stage (Oxford Playhouse)

I didn't know anything about this play before going to see it. In fact, I'd never encountered Boucicault on stage before. It was quite funny (although Restoration comedy has sharper social satire) but I found the dreadfully strident female lead incredibly offputting. I just wanted her to lower her voice. It was far too reminiscent of some of the staff and students at Oxford. It was also quite disconcerting to be the youngest person in the theatre as far as I could tell. At least it made a change from Shakespeare, although the tendency to be irritated with all these vacuous upper class characters meant that I didn't enjoy it as much as I thought that I would.

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

I so wanted to enjoy this. OK, so I hated Temple of Doom but I can watch Raiders and Last Crusade time after time and never get bored. It's not exactly a poor film but it doesn't have the breathless excitement and sheer joy of those two earlier films. Plus there are some rather unconvincing stunt doubles (especially during the motorbike sequence) and a bit of dodgy CGI just to distract further from what's actually happening. Perhaps the makers were hoping this would take the audience's mind off the sheer idiocy of the plot - something to do with aliens, crystal skulls, lost cities and equally lost explorers. Oh, and nasty Commies who needless to say get their just deserts. I refuse to believe that Frank Darabont's rejected screenplay wasn't better than the one we've got, and the endless film referencing does become a bit wearisome. Having said all that, it's not a complete waste of time. There's a nice chase in a warehouse that you might just recognize from Raiders and the finale works pretty well, assuming that you buy into the setup. But please, no more. Let Indy hang up his whip and have a quiet retirement.

Caramel

An amiable comedy, set in Beirut although you wouldn't know it. There are no signs of warfare or civil turmoil, just a slightly rundown beauty parlour with an erratic electricity supply. Nor do the women particularly conform to the stereotype fixed in Western minds. Their problems are more universal: an affair with a married man, an ageing actress, how to convince a future husband that you're a virgin when you're not. It all meanders pleasantly enough but never actually excites. The most interesting character is Rima, who clearly prefers women but whose only opportunity for physical feminine contact is when she's washing clients' hair. If any of her colleagues are aware of her secret, none of them ever show it.

Ansel Adams

A glorious exhibition of some of Ansel Adams' beautiful black and white photos of Yosemite National Park (as well as a few other national parks and pueblos in New Mexico) dating from the late 1920s to the early 1960s. The earliest photo has a soft focus, almost magical quality. Later photos are sharper but lose none of the sense of looking at a place of wonder. In the days before mass tourism, it's a glimpse into the wilderness. Some of the photos, especially of water or trees, have an almost abstract quality. Others, such as the snowbound trees and lanscapes, are more obviously picturesque. I could quite happily have chosen any print to put on my wall. It's a very rare exhibition where I like every single item on show.

Joy Division

After Anton Corbijn's Control, which used Deborah Curtis' book as it's inspiration, Joy Division is much more the lads' POV. The refrain "we didn't talk about it" becomes a desperately sad theme. One can't help wondering whether the outcome would have been different if Ian Curtis' bandmates and friends *had* talked to him about his epilepsy and messy romantic life. What remains of course is the music, and what music it is. The moment when Peter Hook's bass line starts is still thrillingly electric, and the songs have stood the test of time better than the work of many of their contemporaries. The documentary doesn't necesarily explain why this is, but it pushes the lyrics into focus as a reflection of Ian Curtis' state of mind, particularly on the startling final album Closer. It appears that even the rest of the band didn't realize just how true to life they were, and the lingering guilt is still palpable behind the bravado. What you take away though - as it should be - is the legacy of the music. The urge to go home and play the albums back to back is overwhelming.

A Doll's House: Northern Stage (Oxford Playhouse)

The 1950s setting worked surprisingly well in this production. Far from being some long lost Golden Age, it was a period of repression and that aspect is caught perfectly. Torvald might be all babytalk on the surface but there are enough flashes of the tyrant lurking beneath the surface. He has very clear ideas about what Nora should and shouldn't be doing. Nora meanwhile progresses, perhaps a little too quickly, from a thoroughly irritating flibbertigibbert to a woman with a steely determination to discover just who she is. The glass box that doubled as the entrancehall leading onto Torvald's study made good use of the stage space and served as a reminder that Nora is constantly on display, even when inside the confines of the house. The sheer hypocrisy of men is also laid bare. Nora's actions were solely to save the life of her husband and spare her ailing father any worries, but all Torvald can see is *his* imminent disgrace. The minute Krogstad (unexpectedly finding love himself) rescinds his threats, Torvald reverts to his old ways, as if nothing had happened. Nora, however, has finally seen what he is truly like and how little her own thoughts and feelings count in this male world. Her exit is thrillingly empowering.

Honeydripper

Not one of the very best films by John Sayles (certainly not in the same class as Lone Star or Matewan, which probably top the list) but a perfectly amiable, pleasant couple of hours. The one thing you are always guaranteed in a Sayles film is top class performances and he gets the best out of his mostly coloured cast, whether they are speaking dialogue or playing/singing the music that drives it all. The plot is predictable but it doesn't really matter when the soundtrack's this good. Even what could have been a heavy-handed 50s Deep South race-relations background is sketched in without fuss. The sheriff is as venal as they come - and knows it - but he's not the usual stereotype. Sayles knows better than to make it as schematic as that. It's a crying shame that he finds it so difficult to raise the money to make his films. We need all the intelligent movies we can get.

Be Kind Rewind

I'm not a big fan of Jack Black. In small doses he's very funny but this can quickly switch to intensely annoying. Luckily this is one of the bearable roles, partly because everything else is so insane too. Michel Gondry has one of the most fertile visual imaginations out there and he uses it to gleeful effect. There's one of the best sight gags (involving a ladder, a chain-link fence and Mos Def) that you'll ever see and the sweded films themselves are hilariously recreated. I was particularly fond of the Rush Hour 2 retread, although the initial Ghostbusters filming is also an absolute delight. Everything culminates in an "original" film about Fats Waller, complete with scratches, flashing and a truly awe-inspiring DIY ethic.

Iron Man

So the wasteland that is the summer blockbuster season is now officially under way. The good news is that the first entry is great fun. It benefits immensely from the presence of Robert Downey Jr in the title role (and who would have thought he'd end up in a film like this?) His sarcastic, unruly, and sexy presence makes Tony Stark the sort of person you should hate but can't help but adore. He has some cracking one-liners and the interplay with his robotic "assistants" is hilarious, especially the very helpful one doubling as a fire extinguisher. The dark scenes and the light ones complement each otherrather than jarring. And even for a non-comic book nerd like me the Mk. 2 suit was incredible, and there's a nice touch with Stark seemingly managing to destroy each version he creates (this is not a man you would want trust with your most loved possessions). OK, so Terrence Howard doesn't really have much to do apart from playing exasperated and you can spot the bad guy a mile off, but considering the horrors that usually unfold between May and September, Iron Man gets a big round of applause.