Blowup

One of the true tests of a great work of art is its ability to transcend time. Film has the shortest shelf life of any art form, passing with the moment like a newspaper headline or a fashion trend. Michelangelo Antonioni's first English language feature is a case in point. Hailed in its day as a work of genius, an intriguing, if self-indulgent, challenge to the idea that the camera never lies, this might-be murder mystery is now often dismissed as ostentatious and exploitative. Antonioni is usually sound on the theme of urban alienation, but, even with such 1960s icons as David Hemmings and Vanessa Redgrave on board, he tries too hard for arty style and manages to miss the beat of Swinging London. Sarah Miles walked out during production, leaving Redgrave to strip off, look gawky and fidget while Hemmings puts on a jazz record. There is no more cringe-inducing scene in the history of the cinema, but if you can ignore such pretensions, this does contain fleeting moments of brilliance.