The Life of David Gale<br></br>Elling<br></br>Equilibrium<br></br>Virgil Bliss<br></br>Barbershop<br></br> Stealing Harvard<br></br>Sunset Boulevard

Ideals? Who needs 'em if the plot has a twist

The odd thing about The Life of David Gale (15) is that it doles out Death Row statistics, it revels in the minutiae of lethal injections, and its characters devote their lives to the abolition of the death penalty, and yet, at bottom, it doesn't care a jot about the topic. Directed by Alan Parker – or Sir Alan, as we should call him now – it stars Kevin Spacey as a convicted murderer with just three days left before his execution, and Kate Winslet as a New York journalist sent to Texas to interview him. He's big news because he used to be a famous campaigner against the death penalty. The woman (Laura Linney) he may or may not have killed used to be one, too. As Spacey persuades Winslet that he's innocent, we see his side of the story in flashback.

If you can accept that the film is a schlocky Hollywood whodunit, it isn't too bad. But Parker and Charles Randolph, the screenwriter, just won't accept it. They keep pretending they're making a passionate polemic, despite having zilch to say about their contentious subject matter. Execution is used merely to pave the way for a sneaky final twist, which leaves us feeling that Randolph and Parker have cheated us – and they've cheated America's death-penalty abolitionists, as well.

Elling (15) is a huggable Norwegian comedy drama about two men – an anxious fusspot and a hulking Obelix – who have just been transferred from an institution to an Oslo flat. In their own care for the first time in years, they have to contend with all the threats that the modern city has in store: phone calls, for instance, and trips to the supermarket. It's extremely funny and touching, and it has no villains, no moral lessons, and no histrionics of the Rain Man/Forrest Gump school. The moment closest to sentimentality is when one of the men thanks the other for lending him a pair of underpants.

Equilibrium (15) pilfers a lot from Judge Dredd and Robocop, even more from Nineteen Eighty-Four and Fahrenheit 451, and everything else from The Matrix: Christian Bale looks just like Keanu Reeves as he somersaults around with a gun in each hand. He plays a policeman – sorry, a Gramaton Cleric – in a future metropolis where emotion is outlawed and art is incinerated.

(They're not going for subtlety here: the first painting we see being torched is the Mona Lisa.) His job is to stamp out the rebel movement, but an ickle puppy convinces him to try a little tenderness, and soon it's Big Brother (cleverly renamed "Father") who's on the receiving end of the guns and somersaults.

I'm a sucker for this sort of sci-fi hokum, but Equilibrium takes itself far too seriously for a film whose concerns are so antiquated. I doubt many Western viewers are afraid that an omnipotent government is going to destroy art and force us all to wear grey overalls; we're afraid that omnipotent corporations are going to patronise art and force us all to wear brand-name T-shirts.

Virgil Bliss (15) is a Hubert Selby Jr-style tragedy about a parolee who's determined to go straight – not easy when you're room-mate is determined not to go straight and your girlfriend's a crack-addicted prostitute. The picture and sound quality of Joe Maggio's first film are dreadful, but he does sterling work with the minimal budget he's got. Barbershop (12A) is a sweet-natured ensemble comedy that hangs around a hairdresser's in a black neighbourhood of Chicago. Stealing Harvard (15) is witless garbage. And in the restored, re-released Sunset Boulevard (PG), Billy Wilder is 50 years ahead of Adaptation in saying that screenwriting can be murder.

n.barber@independent.co.uk