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 One of the major pleasures and sources of eye candy the movies provide are fantasy spaces of which dreams are made. For anyone who lives for their monthly issue of Dwell, or who forwards photo compilations of delicious décor, on-screen interiors offer a form of fun several notches up from catalogue shopping.  Whether these movies were shot on sound stages, or on existing locations dressed up for their close-up, they perform the task of drawing us into the world of the story, and making us forget about the tedious limitations of reality. If you could choose any movie interior to move into, which one would it be? 

Submarines perform wonderfully as containers for high-tension drama as the challenges of close quarters, the inability to see what’s going on above, and the vulnerability of sailors working at many fathoms beneath the sea become as compressed as the oxygen they breathe.

Two gunslingers stand toe-to-toe in a dusty crossroads… on the left, a powerfully built man donning a cowboy hat and wearing a leather vest and bandanna; on the right, a tall, cool customer in a serape, with a rope burn ‘round his throat.     You duck down inside an old barrel and hold your breath… a tumbleweed rolls by… and the church bells chime…. bong… bong…bong... (Cue the “Waah Waah Waah Waah Waah” of Ennio Morricone’s signature soundtrack theme).     As far as I’m concerned, the only man thick-skinned enough to stand up in a town square to the cool, rattler squint of Clinton “Clint” Eastwood, would be the Duke himself (better known as John Wayne). But on which would you stake your claim when facing a hail of bullets?

News flash: Adam Sandler’s new movie reveals something dire lurking under Hollywood   I want to admit something to you – I don’t enjoy Jimmy Fallon. It always seems that he is having a much better time than his audience. That is not to say that I don’t think he is a talented guy or that I disagree with the idea that performers should have fun, but gradually it becomes apparent that his fun is at our expense. He cavorts, introduces inside jokes, winks, and generally plays out personal interactions based on what is amusing to him (rather than what might be amusing to an audience). Worst of all... God help us, he just can’t stop smirking. It’s like he’s secretly watching a loop of Moe poking Curly in the liver over and over inside his cerebellum. It’s distracting and makes him seem disingenuous.  This is also the reason I dislike the set of Adam Sandler movies. The majority of his films, particularly some of his most recent offerings, appear to be an excuse to get his buddies together, like some kind of extremely well-funded camp reunion, with the film as by-product. Their antics are then edited into an embarrassing reel of sad sack races and volleyballs-in-the-nuts bloopers – “Ow, my groin” – hilarious every time.