Awake to violence

 

Kind of incredible that Mike Hodges directed Get Carter and Flash Gordon *and* The Terminal Man. A director could build a career on any one of those. I doubt most people could name him. They'd recognise the titles of the first two.

The Terminal Man is from that precious gasp when sci-fi hovered between desirable and horror (Rollerball, Logan's Run, Bladerunner) – when what we'd kill for would kill us. Hodges understood the dream moment, and the moment of waking. People are rousted from their slumbers, or worse. It's a bad sign when the Goldberg Variations kick in.

To file Flash Gordon under 'camp' belies its potency. It's balls-out Italian cinema – Giallo sci-fi. Think Blood and Black Lace in space. And as with Mario Bava (and Dario Argento), when there's that much blood and sex on screen nobody cares if you can see the wires.

Get Carter likewise is not really dad viewing. It's a nasty little film. From dropping black ball speed on the train to Michael Caine looming over patrons in the real-life chiaroscuro Newcastle pub to the shootout in a literal slag-heap, there is never a fun moment. It takes real skill to rub a viewer's nose in that without making them look away.