Carol Drinkwater Movies

A misleading title and a different type of performance from Hugh Grant are two of the offbeat features of An Awfully Big Adventure. Virginal theatre fanatic Stella (Georgina Cates), who speaks with her dead mother by phone, joins a theatrical troupe in 1947 England headed by manipulative director Meredith Potter (Grant). Stella quickly falls for Potter, but he doesn't return her affections, driving her into the arms of the troupe's arrogant star, P.L. O'Hara (Alan Rickman). O'Hara eventually takes Stella's virginity, although she secretly remains devoted to Potter. More secrets of the troupe are revealed at the story's climax, although nothing is really resolved to any of the characters' satisfaction. Not quite a satire and not quite a drama, An Awfully Big Adventure is occasionally mean-spirited and frequently dour, which may just be a result of its subject matter. ~ Don Kaye, Rovi

Based on the delightful, heartwarming and sometimes tragic tales of a British country veterinarian who uses the penname James Herriot and the series they inspired, this feature film begins just after WW II as Herriot, who served as an army veterinarian, returns home and tries to readjust to his quiet, but never dull country practice. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

An asylum director begins telling a visitor to a cricket game the story of one of his "better" patients, Crossley (Alan Bates) who is able to compete. Some time previously, Crossley accosted Anthony (John Hurt), a composer, just after church and was for some reason invited to dinner. Once at the composer's home, he tells the story of his unusual upbringing among Australian Aborigines, and of the awful and strange gifts this has left him with. Among them is the ability to bring about another's death by using a certain kind of shout. The next morning, he begins to weave an erotic spell on the composer's wife Rachel (Susannah York), and then proves his killing ability on a sheep in a field. His influence increasingly disrupts their peaceful lives, until in a confrontation, the composer finds a way to best Crossley - but which results in his being placed in a mental institution. ~ Clarke Fountain, Rovi

Season one of All Creatures Great & Small begins in late 1936 as newly qualified veterinarian James Herriot (Christopher Timothy) arrives at his first assistant's post at Skeldale House, Darrowby, Yorkshire. Here he meets his boss, the irascible Siegfried Farnon, and Siegfried's long-suffering but fun-loving, food-devouring younger brother Tristan (played by future Doctor Who star Peter Davison), who is kept on as a partner despite having flunked out of college. Though he thinks he is thoroughly prepared for his life's calling, James could never have imagined that his first patient would be a little girl's pet turtle. Not long afterward, however, our hero shows his mettle by curing a very valuable horse. In the third of season one's 13 episodes, James meets Helen Alderson (Carol Drinkwater), the farmer's daughter who will one day become his wife. First, however, James must overcome the resistance of Helen's father, who has an inbred distate for everyone in the medical profession. This he does, and by episode ten James and Helen are on their honeymoon...albeit using their spare time to carry out tuberculin testing! ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Stanley Kubrick dissects the nature of violence in this darkly ironic, near-future satire, adapted from Anthony Burgess's novel, complete with "Nadsat" slang. Classical music-loving proto-punk Alex (Malcolm McDowell) and his "Droogs" spend their nights getting high at the Korova Milkbar before embarking on "a little of the old ultraviolence," such as terrorizing a writer, Mr. Alexander (Patrick Magee), and gang raping his wife (who later dies as a result). After Alex is jailed for bludgeoning the Cat Lady (Miriam Karlin) to death with one of her phallic sculptures, Alex submits to the Ludovico behavior modification technique to earn his freedom; he's conditioned to abhor violence through watching gory movies, and even his adored Beethoven is turned against him. Returned to the world defenseless, Alex becomes the victim of his prior victims, with Mr. Alexander using Beethoven's Ninth to inflict the greatest pain of all. When society sees what the state has done to Alex, however, the politically expedient move is made. Casting a coldly pessimistic view on the then-future of the late '70s-early '80s, Kubrick and production designer John Barry created a world of high-tech cultural decay, mixing old details like bowler hats with bizarrely alienating "new" environments like the Milkbar. Alex's violence is horrific, yet it is an aesthetically calculated fact of his existence; his charisma makes the icily clinical Ludovico treatment seem more negatively abusive than positively therapeutic. Alex may be a sadist, but the state's autocratic control is another violent act, rather than a solution. Released in late 1971 (within weeks of Sam Peckinpah's brutally violent Straw Dogs), the film sparked considerable controversy in the U.S. with its X-rated violence; after copycat crimes in England, Kubrick withdrew the film from British distribution until after his death. Opinion was divided on the meaning of Kubrick's detached view of this shocking future, but, whether the discord drew the curious or Kubrick's scathing diagnosis spoke to the chaotic cultural moment, A Clockwork Orange became a hit. On the heels of New York Film Critics Circle awards as Best Film, Best Director, and Best Screenplay, Kubrick received Oscar nominations in all three categories. ~ Lucia Bozzola, Rovi