It looks like James Cameron is going for the tight-lipped PR approach for Avatar, and the Todd Solondz school of misanthropy might be supplying one of its finest graduates for the next Spider-Man villain

I’m a sucker for getting caught up in the hype for big blockbuster sci-fi movies that know exactly how to market themselves in order to look like the coolest thing since Ripley took out the xenomorph queen in Aliens. But so far the online publicity for Avatar, James Cameron’s forthcoming 3D megalith, hasn’t quite got under my skin. Far more exciting was the 15 minutes or so of actual footage that I saw earlier this year at the IMAX Waterloo in London. OK, so Cameron’s creation, the planet Pandora, did have a certain new-age whiff to it, with all those elfin, blue Thundercat types running around, but it was lurid, visceral and vivid enough to make you want to reach for the Peter Gabriel albums (and I’m a Peter Gabriel fan).

So far Avatar’s online hype machine has been limited to an OK teaser trailer and a pretty crappy website for supposed human recruits to travel to Pandora (which has admittedly improved somewhat since I first wrote about it last month).

The first full-length trailer is due to hit the web tomorrow, but an “international” version with unidentifiable subtitles is already available online, and reports are that it’s virtually indistinguishable from the English-language equivalent that’s about to drop. In the film, Jake (Sam Worthington), a disabled former marine given the chance to walk again via an alien body, or Avatar, which he can control with his mind, is charged with infiltrating the indigenous population of Pandora, the Na’avi, in order to help some evil military-industrial complex types plunder the priceless local mineral deposits. This new version appears to confirm a rather obvious story twist: it looks like Jake goes a little native and turns on his former employers.

There’s also a new featurette, which is mostly just Cameron waxing lyrical about what a genius Cameron is, while various other members of the cast and crew also make with the vapid hero worship, though it does contain a few shots we’ve not yet seen of Pandora.

For all the admittedly impressive motion capture involved, the technology, the ambition and the excellent cast, which includes the likes of Sigourney Weaver, Giovanni Ribisi and Zoe Saldana, Avatar’s success will ultimately be predicated on its storyline, which right now looks like a pretty generic one that we’ve seen before in countless movies. Let’s hope Cameron includes a few further twists in the tale to shake things up a little.

Elsewhere this week, more rumours are leaking out about Spider-Man 4, Sam Raimi’s forthcoming return to the world of everyone’s favourite wall-crawling superhero type. This time the Evil Dead director is up against it after the critics turned on the series’ last outing, Spider-Man 3, due to its confused plot and multiple villains. The suggestion is that only one bad guy will feature this time, with Dylan Baker, always good value in unusual roles in movies such as Todd Solondz’s Happiness, looking likely to get the nod in the form of Spidey’s old enemy, The Lizard.

Baker already appears in the series as Peter Parker’s sometime tutor and mentor Dr Curt Connors, who in the original comic books is transformed into the reptilian supervillain, so the move makes plenty of sense. And while the New York-born actor doesn’t immediately come across as having the charisma of a Willem Dafoe or an Alfred Molina, who played the villains in the series’ celebrated first two instalments, he’s a class act who more than deserves the shot at a headline role.

What are your thoughts on this week’s stories? Are you getting excited about Avatar yet? And can Raimi turn round Spider-Man, which incidentally also looks set to be shot in 3D? Is Baker the right man to play the series’ next villain, or should a better-known actor be brought on board?

This prequel to the popular Thai martial arts film Ong-bak (2003) is a nonstop action film set in the 15th century about a deposed prince being adopted by an honest outlaw. After being trained to become a supremely accomplished martial artist, as effective with his hands, knees and feet as with a sword and a bow, he exacts a deadly revenge on his father’s cruel usurper. The fights are stunning, the narrative thin and repetitive, the characterisation perfunctorily functional. Tony Jaa, the film’s energetic star and co-director, has a striking resemblance to the young Sabu, the original Elephant Boy. During the shooting, Jaa cracked up and went native in the Thai jungle for three months. Great subject for a movie.

Sly has done better than most in the recent senescent action star revival. The Expendables, featuring almost every ageing ass-kicker going, will be his magnum opus

Allow me to state the obvious: Sylvester Stallone’s The Expendables looks terrible. Of course it does. It has a cast list packed with just about all of the biggest names that the straight-to-DVD movie industry has to offer. It has a trailer – released last week – that makes it looks like a bad photocopy of the sort of goonishly brawny no-budget action films that Channel Five used to show at 2am. It’s been written and directed by Stallone, of Stallone High Protein Pudding fame. It looks terrible. And I’ll be first in line to see it next year.

Why? Well that’s all to do with Stallone’s last couple of films. Although Stallone hasn’t been the only washed-up action star of recent years who’s attempted to resuscitate his career by revisiting old pastures, he has been the only one not to fill his comeback with giant ants, nuclear-proof fridges and fight scenes that culminate on the wing of exploding jet fighters. Instead, Stallone decided to look back to his years in the doldrums for inspiration, and the results have been quietly impressive.

Rocky Balboa turned out to be a graceful, elegant and surprisingly melancholy rumination about a past-his-prime former celebrity fenced in by his own past. It wasn’t Rocky’s story we were watching, it was Stallone’s. And Rambo IV was … OK, technically Rambo IV was about a monosyllabic beefcake who shoots arrows through foreigners’ heads for a living, but scoop away all the gore and you’ll find a story that aches with a similar sense of longing.

And now we’ve got The Expendables to look forward to. And, if anything, it seems as though Stallone’s sadness has turned to defiance. The film stars a phalanx of actors central to some of the worst cinema in living memory, like Jason Statham (Death Race), Jet Li (Cradle 2 the Grave), Dolph Lundgren (Fat Slags), Steve Austin (The Condemned) and Brittany Murphy (Just Married). Mickey Rourke and Arnold Schwarzenegger even hop on for the ride, maybe as a reminder to all their lesser counterparts that everyone eventually gets a second chance to either win an Oscar nomination, or run an entire US state into financial disrepair.

Stallone’s message with The Expendables couldn’t be clearer – he’s not alone in feeling let down by the movie industry’s obsession with fads, and if Hollywood thinks that it can wash its hands of its sub-rate action stars without a second thought, it has another thing coming. These actors have still got the goods, and they’re just itching to be given another shot at the big time.

So it might be shaping up to be a retrograde, testosterone-heavy bonehead marathon comprised of nothing but constant explosions, tired old wisecracks and – if the trailer is anything to go by – a sexy waterboarding sequence. But when The Expendables is released next year, you can bet your life that I’ll be right there to pay tribute to these fallen heroes of celluloid, these never-say-die soldiers of a forgotten age who proudly refuse to go gentle into that good night.

Although I’ll probably wait for it to come out on DVD first. It seems like the right thing to do, doesn’t it?

This prequel to the popular Thai martial arts film Ong-bak (2003) is a nonstop action film set in the 15th century about a deposed prince being adopted by an honest outlaw. After being trained to become a supremely accomplished martial artist, as effective with his hands, knees and feet as with a sword and a bow, he exacts a deadly revenge on his father’s cruel usurper. The fights are stunning, the narrative thin and repetitive, the characterisation perfunctorily functional. Tony Jaa, the film’s energetic star and co-director, has a striking resemblance to the young Sabu, the original Elephant Boy. During the shooting, Jaa cracked up and went native in the Thai jungle for three months. Great subject for a movie.

Paul MacInnes found his life was ending one minute at a time. Might a stage fight workshop help lift him from the abyss?

After Tony Jaa’s enjoyable debut it’s a shame the follow-up goes down the conventional Asian martial-arts-adventure route, says Peter Bradshaw

Four years ago, a new martial arts star was born in the form of Thailand’s Tony Jaa – an action hero with a look of the young Jackie Chan. His debut movie, Ong-Bak, was tremendously enjoyable due to its straightforward simplicity: no wires or CGI, just fantastic athleticism, with some cracking free-running stunts. So it is a bit of a letdown that this expensive follow-up has gone right down the conventional Asian martial-arts-adventure route, placing Jaa in a stately new high-gloss super-heroic context appropriate for his megastar status. It’s overcooked, overproduced, and all the action is swamped with distracting camerawork and gimmicky design. The prequel makes Jaa the son of a wrongfully deposed nobleman: as a little boy, he is first a refugee, then sold into slavery, and then trained up as a warrior-bandit by a crew of brigand mercenaries. Jaa does some great stunts – most rather eccentrically, involving an elephant – and there’s a great two-on-one fight sequence at the end. But this follow-up lacks punch.

After Tony Jaa’s enjoyable debut it’s a shame the follow-up goes down the conventional Asian martial-arts-adventure route, says Peter Bradshaw

Four years ago, a new martial arts star was born in the form of Thailand’s Tony Jaa – an action hero with a look of the young Jackie Chan. His debut movie, Ong-Bak, was tremendously enjoyable due to its straightforward simplicity: no wires or CGI, just fantastic athleticism, with some cracking free-running stunts. So it is a bit of a letdown that this expensive follow-up has gone right down the conventional Asian martial-arts-adventure route, placing Jaa in a stately new high-gloss super-heroic context appropriate for his megastar status. It’s overcooked, overproduced, and all the action is swamped with distracting camerawork and gimmicky design. The prequel makes Jaa the son of a wrongfully deposed nobleman: as a little boy, he is first a refugee, then sold into slavery, and then trained up as a warrior-bandit by a crew of brigand mercenaries. Jaa does some great stunts – most rather eccentrically, involving an elephant – and there’s a great two-on-one fight sequence at the end. But this follow-up lacks punch.

It is 30 years since Ridley Scott’s Alien burst on to cinema screens and introduced us to Ellen Ripley, chestbursters and body horror

The other week I went to see a science-fiction thriller called Pandorum which opens – rather memorably – with a scene in which a befuddled Dennis Quaid falls out of a space-pod dressed only in his underpants. The film that follows amounts to a prolonged bout of paranoid hysterics. People scream and run about and get eaten. There is a dark and rusting spaceship, a gaggle of barely glimpsed monsters and a sexy, effortlessly confident warrior woman who puts her bungling male counterparts to shame. It is, if you appreciate this sort of thing, a perfectly serviceable motion picture.

But Pandorum gives us something else as well. Every scene – every frame – comes tainted with the nagging, lingering whiff of deja vu; a sense that there is an altogether better movie nestled deep inside, waiting to burst forth. Afterwards it strikes me what that movie is, and I reel out of the cinema like a suitor at the end of a misbegotten date. The only reason I like Pandorum, I realise, is because I am still in love with Alien.

It is now 30 years since Ridley Scott’s breakthrough picture was unleashed upon an unsuspecting public, although the exact birthday remains a mystery. It made its debut at London’s Odeon Leicester Square in September 1979, but was not rolled out to the other UK cinemas until January of the following year. Since then, its influence has bloomed and mutated. Alien was the film that set the visual template (grungy and industrial) for any director keen to shoot a picture about monsters in outer space. It was the film that contained a grisly, chest-bursting centrepiece that tapped into the fears of the age. And yet ultimately it all comes back to Ripley. In the figure of the coltish, resolute Sigourney Weaver, Alien may just be the film that overhauled the old, unreconstructed horror genre and dared to put a woman centre-stage.

Because make no mistake: a horror movie is what Alien is. “It’s basically a haunted house film,” explains the critic David Thomson. “The only difference is that the old dark house just happens to be a spaceship.” Thomson has examined the film and its three sequels in his book The Alien Quartet, and feels that this quality is what separates Scott’s outing from the ones that followed. “It is a very slow-building film that gives the sense of some great unnamed terror to come. That’s a quality that has much more to do with horror than it does with science fiction.”

This gave rise to Ridley Scott’s joke that nothing actually happens for the first 45 minutes. In its opening sections, Alien rattles, seemingly aimlessly, around a utilitarian space freighter (the Nostromo) and introduces us to its bickering seven-member crew, John Hurt and Ian Holm among them. If 20th Century Fox was hoping for another Star Wars (and the evidence suggests it was), the studio had another think coming. These characters are not Jedi warriors or gung-ho buccaneers; just average working Joes, bored from too long in each other’s company and chain-smoking in front of antique computer screens.

Then, boom! The film bursts into hideous life with one of cinema’s most notorious setpieces. Hurt’s character, impregnated by an extra-terrestrial, abruptly goes into labour at the breakfast table. His chest explodes and the beast is loosed.

Watching the scene now, at a 30-year lag, you find yourself drawn as much to the reactions of the other actors as to the creature itself. Scott famously shot the film in one take with four cameras, and purposely kept the actors in the dark as to what, exactly, they were about to witness. It is safe to assume that none of them were as startled as Veronica Cartwright (playing the Nostromo’s navigator), who is shown recoiling in genuine horror from a spray of blood. “What you saw on camera was the real response,” recalls co-star Tom Skerritt. “She had no idea what the hell happened. All of a sudden this thing just came up.”

Cartwright’s shock would be mirrored in cinemas around the world. “Everybody remembers the moment when the creature comes out, because it was such a staggering event; totally beyond prediction,” says Thomson. “I remember seeing the film at the time with my wife and she was so horrified that she stood up and walked right out of the theatre. Afterwards she admitted that it was a very well-made film and all of that. But she could not take it; could not live with that possibility. It was as though she thought: if that can happen, anything can.”

One could argue that it already had. After speaking to Thomson, I sound out Mark Jancovich, professor of film studies at the University of East Anglia and an expert on the horror genre. Jancovich explains that changes in the 1970s censorship opened the door to more gory, body-centred special effects. “But there is an argument that these films actually reflected wider concerns. There was a growing sense in the 70s that a range of environmental factors – be it pollution, pesticides, food additives, man-made cancers – meant that we were no longer in control of our bodies. That our sense of self can change, mutate and become monstrous. You see that in the early films of someone like David Cronenberg, and obviously in Alien: this sense that all that was familiar and secure starts breaking down. And in the year after Alien you saw this burst of other big-budget ‘body horrors’, from The Howling, An American Werewolf In London, Altered States through to John Carpenter’s remake of The Thing.”

In Scott’s film, however, the horror came garnished with sexual politics. Take another look at the creature that hatches from John Hurt’s chest. It was designed by the Swiss artist HR Giger, who borrowed freely from the images in Francis Bacon’s 1944 painting Three Studies For Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion, which in turn took its lead from the Greek myth of the Furies. Scott’s film was initially pitched as “Jaws in space” and Giger’s alien features the requisite razor-blade teeth and unreadable, implacable air. Sometimes it is limpid and wet, fashioned on the set out of oysters and clams brought in from a local fishmongers. Sometimes it is hard and blunt. Not to put too fine a point on it, the alien in Alien comes in two guises: vaginal and phallic.

“Alien is a rape movie with male victims,” explains David McIntee, author of the Alien study Beautiful Monsters. “And it also shows the consequences of that rape: the pregnancy and birth. It is a film that plays, very deliberately, with male fears of female reproduction.”

Does this make Alien a conservative film or a radical one? Over the years the debate has been teased out in either direction. In the opinion of the cultural critic Barbara Creed, for instance, Scott’s film epitomised what she refers to as “the monstrous feminine”. It trades in classic Freudian imagery (penis-shaped monsters; dark, womb-like interiors) and shudders at the bloody spectacle of childbirth. Here is a horror film made by men that exploits a particularly male fear of all that is female.

Others beg to differ. Ripley, they argue, is the game-changer; the character that sends Alien (and its sequels) off in a bold new direction. “Ripley is pretty revolutionary,” insists McIntee. “All of a sudden you have a horror film that has a younger female character who is a survivor and a heroine as opposed to a victim.”

Originally conceived as a male character, Ripley would go on to form the heart and soul of the Alien pictures. As played by Weaver (then 29 and a relative unknown), she initially seems set up to play the conventional role of the sexy scream queen. But after a while, we realise that not only is she not screaming, she also appears to have no romantic interest whatsoever. Instead, she furrows her brow and tackles tasks with a steely determination. It is Ripley who makes the right decision in refusing to allow the alien aboard the ship, only to be overruled by her male colleagues. For good measure, it is Ripley whose misplaced maternal instincts (hurrying off in search of the ship’s cat) enable her to avoid the monster’s attack.

Only at the end does the film let her down, slapping us with that oddly gratuitous sequence in which Ripley escapes in a space-pod and proceeds to strip down to her undies. It is as though the makers were so alarmed by what they had unleashed that they tried to rein her back at the last minute. “No one would deny that Sigourney Weaver looks fetching in her underwear,” chuckles David Thomson. “But that’s really a case of Ridley Scott playing to a very old-fashioned gallery.”

Ripley, the evil stepmother

James Cameron has often been accused of playing to that same gallery. And yet his sequel, Aliens, which came out seven years later, proved even more radical; taking what had been a subtext and pushing it to the foreground. “The series became feminist,” says Thomson. “Maybe that was because Weaver was given a bigger voice and a producer’s credit. Maybe the guys wouldn’t have gone in that direction out of choice. But they couldn’t make the films without her.”

Not that Weaver has ever claimed to have much in common with the character she plays. “I’m no Ripley,” she says. “I had doubts that I could play her as strongly as she needed to be played. But I must say that it was fun exploring that side of myself. Women don’t get to do that very often.”

Released in 1986, Aliens was as much about Ripley as it was about the aliens. Cameron’s film gave her a surrogate daughter to protect, and a new band of swaggering men to lock antlers with. Most intriguing of all, it explored the growing affinity between its heroine and the alien “queen” that she battles. “The thing about Ripley is that she is not especially sympathetic to the human beings in her world,” says Thomson. “In the second film you do get the feeling that she and the beast have a kind of understanding. There is a scene at the end where Ripley threatens to kill off its offspring and the beast backs off. That shows a certain level of kinship. They are both mothers, after all.”

McIntee takes it further still. “There’s a strange twist at the end of Aliens, in that Weaver almost becomes the villain. The queen just wants to do what’s best for her offspring. Ripley is like the evil stepmother who wants to kill the children.”

It is the first rule of Hollywood that every good idea must eventually be milked until it dries out. So it was with Alien, which begat (the arguably superior) Aliens and then led on to the diminishing returns of Alien 3 and Alien: Resurrection. “Actually the third film is underrated,” McIntee points out. “With those first three movies you have the sense that they are playing, probably unintentionally, with the three classic female archetypes from folklore. Ripley goes from being maiden [in Alien], to mother [Aliens], to crone [Alien 3]. That’s where they went wrong with Alien: Resurrection. If there is no fourth archetype, there’s nowhere to go.”

So where, exactly, does that leave Ripley? One could argue that Alien’s heroine remains an anomaly; a rare bird in a genre that traditionally serves women up as poultry. Conversely, you might even claim that she wasn’t so revolutionary to begin with. “I’d agree that she’s a great character; a great archetype,” says Mark Jancovich. “But this is actually an archetype that goes right back to [gothic novelist] Ann Radcliffe in the late 18th century. Ripley is cut from the same cloth as all those other gothic heroines. She’s like your classic three-chord pop song. It’s just that some versions are catchier than others.”

Others see it differently, they see Ripley breaking the mould. “She advanced the movie heroine pretty far and pretty fast,” McIntee says. “I think the entertainment industry would be very different without her. Without Ripley there would be no Leela in Futurama and no Buffy either. She’s probably also responsible for toughening up the Bond girls. If you look at the first Bond movie to be released after Alien, you suddenly have the sight of Carole Bouquet running around with a crossbow.”

Before Ripley, the horror movie was a more ordered place. Here was a happy hunting ground in which young, sexually active women were there to be punished and the abiding image of motherhood was provided by mummified Mrs Bates in Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho. Alien took a tired landscape and shook it up. Maybe it truly did open the doors to a brave new era, reconciling the genre’s in-built fear of femaleness by casting the alien in our midst, the unknowable sex in the role of hero. Almost certainly, it paved the way for movies such as Pandorum: a dunder-headed romp that is nonetheless smart enough to put a powerful woman at centre-stage while leaving the men to stagger about in their underwear, unsure what’s going on.

Over in Europe, Ridley Scott’s 1979 picture was originally released under the extended title “Alien: The Eighth Passenger”. Now this, I’m guessing, refers to HR Giger’s unpleasant extra-terrestrial. Yet it might just as easily refer to Ripley: the horror movie heroine who came in from the cold. Three decades on, she looks far wilder and more dangerous than some mocked-up “Jaws in space”.

Project is first acquisition for Chernin Entertainment, the new company founded by former Rupert Murdoch right-hand man Peter Chernin

The life of Moses is to be the subject of a 300-style action film, Variety reports. It will the inaugural project for Chernin Entertainment, the company founded by former Rupert Murdoch lieutenant Peter Chernin after stepping down as president and chief operating officer of News Corporation in June.

Twentieth Century Fox, where Chernin is chairman and CEO, is developing the story of Moses using the same green-screen techniques as Zack Snyder’s stylised version of Frank Miller’s graphic novel about the battle of Thermopylae.

The film will retell the story of Moses’s life from his near death as an infant to his adoption into the Egyptian royal family, his defiance of the Pharaoh and deliverance of the Hebrews from enslavement. The best known elements of the Book of Exodus – the plagues visited on Egypt and the parting of the Red Sea – will also be present, as well as new elements of Moses’s life sourced from rabbinical literature.

The script will be written by Adam Cooper and Bill Collage, who most recently gave a graphic-novel spin to Herman Melville’s Moby Dick for Wanted director Timur Bekmambetov.

The life of Moses has of course been seen on the big screen before, most famously in two films produced and directed by Cecil B DeMille: the 1923 silent film called The Ten Commandments, remade in epic style in 1956 with Charlton Heston in the lead. More recently, Val Kilmer voiced Moses in the 1998 animation The Prince of Egypt and Mel Brooks took on the role – as well as a bunch of others – in 1981′s History of the World: Part I.

It’s a bit like Sex and the City 2 becoming a Viking movie just so that Samantha can have it off with a horny Norseman

They say that a good sequel answers the questions that its predecessor left open. So with that in mind, next month’s Ong-Bak: The Beginning can’t come quickly enough. After all, one of the most infuriating things about the 2003 original was that it didn’t answer the question of what Ong-Bak would be like if it was set several hundred years ago, bore absolutely no resemblance to the first movie whatsoever and included a scene of a man punching out a crocodile. Thanks for fixing that, Ong-Bak: The Beginning! You’re the greatest!

You might remember the original Ong-Bak. It was a little bit like Bangkok Dangerous, except instead of starring Nicolas Cage it was actually quite good. Its plot involved martial artist Tony Jaa running around modern-day Thailand looking for a statue’s head and beating up all kinds of drug-dealing ne’er-do-wells in the process, sometimes while his legs were on fire.

But now Ong-Bak is, well, back. Wikipedia describes Ong-Bak: The Beginning – which was released in Jaa’s native Thailand last year – as “a historical epic with elements of fantasy [that] has nothing to do with Ong-Bak”. So, for reasons never really explained, it’s set in an ancient world that never really existed. It’d be a bit like the producers of Sex and the City 2 turning it into a Viking movie just to see what Samantha would look like if she tried to have it off with a horny Norseman.

Also, it’s worth mentioning that Ong-Bak: The Beginning is different from the Ong-Bak 2 that was released in 2005, because that wasn’t really an Ong-Bak film. No, instead of Ong-Bak 2, you should call that film The Protector, because if that was really Ong-Bak 2 then Ong-Bak: The Beginning would be Ong-Bak 3 – but it can’t be Ong-Bak 3 because Tony Jaa’s already making an Ong-Bak 3 and it’s coming out in December. Clear?

Good. So we’ve established that Ong-Bak: The Beginning shares absolutely nothing in common with the first movie, not even the millennium it was set in. But that complete absence of formal logic doesn’t matter. Like the original, it’s all just a big excuse to show an angry man kicking people over in slow motion. That’s what Ong-Bak is famous for, isn’t it? Back in 2003 its tagline was, “No stunt doubles, no computer images, no strings attached.” Everything you saw was completely real.

Except, if the ridiculous lack of respect for animal safety demonstrated in Ong-Bak: The Beginning’s trailer is anything to go by, it’d be nice if there were at least some computer images or strings attached along the way.

Because when I saw Tony Jaa cracking a man’s motorcycle helmet open with his burning knees in the original, it elicited a kind of awe-struck wonder for his brave defiance of physics. But seeing him charge at an elephant and using its tusk and forehead as a launchpad for a gratuitous back flip in the new film just makes me feel a bit sorry for the elephant.

So does Ong-Bak: The Beginning qualify as the most berserk sequel of all time? It would be easy to say yes, but perhaps we should wait for Ong-Bak 3 to be released first. If the pattern holds, one gets the impression that it’ll be set in a parallel universe, a billion years in the future, and at some point Tony Jaa will fend off an army of enemies by kicking hundreds of baby koala bears at them. On the moon. We’ll see.