Some films are like open-heart surgery. This may not sound like much of a recommendation, but it's essential that you are reminded every so often of cinema's power to singe and burn. Last Tango in Paris does both of these things. The twisted, mournful Francis Bacon paintings which flash up during the opening credits provide a hint of what to expect; like Bacon, Bertolucci turns his subjects inside-out. And Marlon Brando inside-out is not a sight for the squeamish.
Prince Charles Cinema, London WC2 (0171-437 8181) 9pm
There isn't anything terribly original about Stiff Upper Lips (above), which takes pot-shots at Merchant/Ivory productions, but its humour is informed by a mixture of savagery and affection which recalls Mel Brooks' Young Frankenstein. The jokes come thick and fast, and there are sprightly turns from Prunella Scales and the late Brian Glover.
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