Brüno (2009)

The phenomenon of the difficult second album is alive and kicking in Brüno, Sacha Baron Cohen's follow-up to the brilliant (and brilliantly titled) Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan. But while Brüno doesn't recapture the magic of watching Cohen's hapless Kazakhstan reporter navigate conservative America, it's often hilarious, which is more than can be said for most comedies that wind up in cinemas.

Brüno Gehard is Cohen's third creation from Da Ali G Show. In the guise of a fish-out-of-water documentary à la Borat, Cohen sends the extroverted gay Austrian fashionista to America with one goal: to become famous. In our current celebrity-soaked climate, it's a ripe target for satire and Cohen milks it wonderfully. "I'm going to be the biggest Austrian since Hitler," Brüno proclaims.

What follows is essentially a series of sketches/stunts/pranks loosely strung together by Brüno's pursuit of fame and his assistant's assistant's (no typo there) romantic pursuit of Brüno.

In perhaps the film's most cringe-worthy scene (or at least the most cringe-worthy scene that doesn't involve talking male genitalia), a parade of mothers spruik their babies to Brüno in an effort to have their children feature in a photo shoot. Shockingly, the parents show no qualms about their children potentially having liposuction, wearing Nazi uniforms or appearing crucified as long as their child has a shot at stardom. As an diatribe against fame, Brüno frequently hits a bull's-eye.

Of course, Brüno's other target is prejudice. It's an attack that's only partly successful as Cohen's character obviously embodies all the gay stereotype characteristics that the film itself would aim to stamp out. Fortunately, Cohen's unwitting co-stars are well-picked, including a gobsmacking sequence in which US Republican presidential candidate Ron Paul reacts horribly to Brüno's none-too-subtle passes.

Comparisons to Borat are inevitable given Brüno would never have been made were it not for the surprise box office success of the former picture. This follow-up is a much more uneven film, chiefly for the greater proportion of staged set pieces featured. However, Cohen's knack of nailing those stunts in which he would have had just one chance to do so is consistently impressive. This is never more apparent than during Brüno's joint interview with a Palestinian politician and a former Mossad agent, as well as in a remarkable separate encounter with an alleged terrorist leader.

Cohen's slapstick pratfalling is also a joy to behold. A sequence in which Brüno shows up at a fashion show in Milan while wearing a velcro suit is hilarious in its simplicity.

Brüno's crass, controversial and confrontational humour will obviously not appeal to all, but there are more than enough laughs here to justify a watch for fans of Borat's satirical stunt comedy.

Public Enemies (2009)

There's something oddly unengaging about Michael Mann's Public Enemies that keeps the film from achieving greatness. Instead, it's merely good. With the director of Heat and Collateral (we'll overlook that sketchy Miami Vice remake) at the helm, it's disappointing that this tale of John Dillinger, one of history's most infamous criminals, isn't the bona fide classic it had the potential to be.

An adaptation of Bryan Burrough's Public Enemies: America's Greatest Crime Wave and the Birth of the FBI, 1933-43, Mann's film sees Johnny Depp take on the role of Dillinger with a cool, restrained performance that truly sells the character as a real person. It's the central performance Public Enemies needed, given the script itself is rather light on character development; despite clocking in at nearly two-and-a-half hours in length, the film wells too often on plot at the expense of character.

Elsewhere, Christian Bale lends his trademark gruffness to Melvin Purvis, the FBI agent tasked with hunting down Dillinger and his gang, while Marion Cotillard is Billie Frechette, whose romance with Dillinger is sadly underdeveloped.

The real standout, though, is Billy Crudup (last seen all blue and naked as Dr Manhattan in Watchmen) who brings J. Edgar Hoover to life in a minimal amount of screen time.

Stylistically, Public Enemies is a mixed bag. The film is shot in digital which, while visually impressive, is seemingly at odds with the period setting. It's also quite a claustrophobic picture, with Mann often choosing to rely on tight shots to convey a sense of intimacy with the characters; this is at the expense of a feel for the era, which one doesn't get a sense of until some way into the film.

Thankfully, the picture does gather steam as the FBI closes in on Dillinger and his gang – Public Enemies' denouement is as strong as the rest of the film should have been.

One area that scores a direct hit is the film's sound – the Tommy Gun has never sounded as vivid and powerful as in Public Enemies. Each bullet fired is accompanied by a violent crack. If only the rest of the film were as sharp.

Life on Mars (2006-2007)

For those of you wondering whether the experience of enduring Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen had turned me off popular culture, fret not. To detox, I've decided to splurge on all the critically-acclaimed telly I missed over the last few years while I was travelling the world, having life-shaping experiences and all that.

The first DVD box sets to land in my shopping basket? BBC's Life on Mars, the time travel/cop show with a premise so balmy it shouldn't work, let alone work so brilliantly.

The excellent John Simm is Sam Tyler, a Manchester police officer who is hit by a car in 2006 and wakes up in 1973. With no idea as to how or why he is living in the past, Sam struggles to fit in with the archaic, corrupt and thuggish 1970s Manchester police force led by Philip Glenister's eminently quotable Gene Hunt.

Tyler's time warp dilemma is mostly a subplot on the show, simmering in the background of each week's fresh, '70s-set police procedural. It's a time when forensic science is a developing field, when suspects and witnesses are treated with equal contempt and when it's perfectly acceptable to halt a murder investigation on account of it being "beer o'clock".

It's testament to the sheer quality of Life on Mars' that at no point does the concept ever feel naff. Jokes about the past and present are sly and subversive without ever seeming too cute; "There will never been a woman Prime Minister as long as I have a hole in my arse," bellows the sexist, racist, alcoholic, homophobe Hunt, who still remains likeable thanks to Glenister's commanding performance.

Dean Andrews as the boorish Ray Carling, Marshall Lancaster as the likeable Chris Skelton and Liz White as love interest Annie Cartwright are all perfect for their parts, but the real focus is wisely kept on Tyler and Hunt; their relationship represents a fascinating contrast between the morals and values of the 1970s and the present day.

Life on Mars is rich on nostalgia, truly capturing the essence of the seventies – the soundtrack is amazing (led by David Bowie's dizzying title track) and the cinematography drenched in all those browns and yellows commonly associated with the decade. This vivid detail of the 1970s constantly plays on Sam's mind, as he fights off voices and visions that suggest he's actually gone insane rather than back in time.

Both seasons deliver a pitch-perfect cocktail of intrigue, humour, action and drama through their highly successful meshing of the science fiction and crime genres. Thanks largely to the strengths of the show's two main actors, Life on Mars also succeeds in being strangely affecting; I challenge any other viewer not to share Sam's mixture of emotions each time he hears a voice beckon to him from the present day.

The programme's creators chose to follow the great British tradition of ending a show at the top of its game, and while Sam's predicament remains almost as intriguingly ambiguous at the end of the show as it was at the start, the finale is perfectly satisfying.

(As an aside, don't get Life on Mars confused with the gratuitous US remake, the finale of which sounds as awful as it is different from that of the UK version.)

If I sound like I'm gushing, it's because I am. Life on Mars is one of the finest shows of the decade. Thoughts on the show's sequel – the 1980s-set Ashes to Ashes, which recently premiered on ABC1 – will be here in the coming weeks.