At last! A palpable hit! This mammoth production is forever talked of in hushed tones, with awed mentions of cavalcades of extras, costumes, period detail, Forbidden City filming permissions and so on. So we feel a bit sheepish about judging it a big old overblown bore. But it is though, isn’t it? Billowing silks, serried ranks of bowing minions, swelling Sakamoto score, lovely old cars, boiler suits towards the end… yes, you carry on, Bernardo, we’ll just be over here by the Sid Field counter, thank you very much. Still, this musty old museum exhibit clocked up a sizeable profit on its $25 million budget (which at least is all up there on screen, eh, Ishtar?) and cleaned up on Oscar night. Small comfort for David Puttnam, who was by then out of Columbia Pictures after a fraught and, let’s be honest, rubbish tenure at the helm, watching the ceremony, in which none of the winners gave him even a mention, on a telly in a Toronto hotel room. A far cry from the Chariots bombast evening, eh, Dave?