I didn't have particularly high expectations for Ripley's Game.  I had seen The Talented Mr Ripley, and whilst I found it entertaining enough, I didn't think it was anything special.  Ripley's Game is much more stylish, it's like watching a decent 1970s or 1980s Italian crime drama, which isn't surprising given it's mostly filmed there, it's written and directed by Liliana Cavani and has a Ennio Morricone score.  John Malkovich is perfectly cast as the creepily psychotic Tom Ripley, and the whole production has an understated quality, which makes it all the more effective and sinister.  Less appreciated than the previous instalment, for my money, this is the better film.

On the 14th August, part 3 of the Paradise Lost series of documentaries will be released on DVD (Region 1).  I first became aware of these films when I was catching up with trophy contenders during the last awards season.  Paradise Lost 3: Purgatory was nominated in the Oscar's Best Documentary category, and I decided to watch the previous two instalments first.  I'm glad I did, as I consider it a privilege to have been able to watch the films one after another.  I was instantly absorbed, as the story of the Robin Hills Murders and the West Memphis Three unfolded.  Paradise Lost: The Child Murders at Robin Hood Hills immediately delivers a hefty punch, opening with real footage of the bodies of the three murdered 8 year old boys.  We are then introduced to the families of both the victims and the accused, three teenage heavy metal fans that have seemingly been scapegoated on little more than being the local weirdoes and a rather unsound confession from Jessie Misskelley, who achieved just 72 in an IQ test.  The local community are understandably angry and looking for resolution, but many are apparently willing to forfeit justice for revenge.  The three films follow the initial trials and the subsequent developments, as the often shocking new evidence comes to light.  We meet some fascinating and disturbing characters, and robustly held attitudes and positions change as the years pass.  All three documentaries are at the top of their field, and if you can cope with the grimness and the heartbreaking subject matter, you will be rewarded with possibly the most consistently brilliant trilogy of films out there.  Best to be seen without prior knowledge of the case, as this is seriously gripping stuff.

Sick to death of the Olympics?  One irritating sponsorship advert away from a killing spree you'll end up regretting?  Step away from the hedge trimmer and indulge yourself in some murder sport therapy.  Whilst everyone else is watching the Closing Ceremony, why not sit back and enjoy one of the dozens of films that have turned slaughter into competitive spectator entertainment.  My personal favourite is Death Race 2000, a splendidly camp offering from the Roger Corman stable.  Running down pedestrians is the national sport, with extra points awarded for toddlers and the elderly.  Brilliantly twisted, I really can't recommend it enough.  The 2008 remake Death Race is also great fun, with the awesome Jason Statham in the lead role.  If you prefer Arnie to the Stath, then you could do worse than checking out The Running Man.  In the near future, prisoners are hunted down on television for the amusement of the viewing public.  Hopefully Ken Clarke's not seen it, otherwise it may give him ideas.

Series 7: The Contenders continues the reality TV theme.  Lottery drawn contestants are handed guns and followed by fly-on-the-wall film crews whilst they pursue and shoot each other.  If you can't get enough of folk assassinating each other, and you enjoyed The Hunger Games, you may like to give Battle Royale a whirl.  A little more arthouse than some of my other suggestions, it nonetheless carries an impressive bodycount and some gloriously nasty violence.

Let the games commence!

Having not seen In the Heat of the Night before, I approached it with high hopes.  It had won many awards, including five Oscars, and has a very respectable rating on IMDB.  The film is also something of a landmark, with its intelligent Black American protagonist, Mr Tibbs, fronting up to police chief Bill Gillespie and the wider racist community.  Sidney Poitier and Rod Steiger are both masterly in their respective roles, and the slapping of plantation owner Eric Endicott by Tibbs is satisfying indeed, and must have raised merry Hell back in its day.  But despite being quite a compelling human drama, I found the murder mystery plot quite messy and unconvincing, increasingly so towards the end.  I came away underwhelmed and wondering if its notoriety has outshone its merits.  That said, I'm probably intrigued enough to check out the sequels They Call Me MISTER Tibbs! and The Organization sometime.