"Queer" - Review

Adrift in Mexico in the 1950s, rakish hard drinking disaster Lee (Daniel Craig) lives as a homosexual man of his own means, cruising bars and induling in base vices to combat his self loathing. The arrival of an enigmatic serviceman by the name of Allerton (Drew Starkey) beguiles him, and leaves him reaching out through the fogginess of his own intercinine struggles to seek a connection.

Basing a film upon the works of William Burroughs is not exactly easy: his books are almost incomprehensible gibberish outsider art concocted by a walking amalgamation of bitterness and neurotic self hatred, glued together with drugs. This certainly feels like a passion project from Guadagnino who has managed to capture that meandering, sleazy, debauched sorrow and beat poetry from chaos: cutting apart words and passages, forming new order from that chaos, and finding a disordered beauty in that renewed chaos. Craig (on a tear ever since he managed to get his Bond money and bolt for the hills of good characters) is fantastic here: an outwardly self-confident rake who is just a massive dork beneath, awkward and trying to reach out and grasp at any form of connection. In between his drinking, smoking and rants about telepathy there is a genuine, lonely pathos which permeates throughout the film. There are moody, evocative, banquet-style shots to just lavish yourself in, immerse yourself in the sleazy bars and the scorching hot underbelly of a city unseen. It's good stuff, I really appreciate this strolling across gorgeously lit streets, getting trapped in a cycle of addiction and loneliness (his conversations with a fellow loser homosexual played by Jason Schwartzmann are evocative of late nights in bars with friends) and the anachronistic soundtrack by Trent Reznor (it opens on a beautiful Sinead O'Connor song, and "Come as You Are" plays early on) lends it almost a horror movie vibe to foreshadow the events to come, and how intrinsically drug-fuelled Burroughs is. The chemistry between Craig and Starkey is excellent: I appreciated the phantom dream-like squences dreaming of touching him, the enigmatic behaviour of Allerton which makes you ponder if he's leading Lee on, or if Lee is simply too horny to see anything else, it's solid stuff. I like the feeling of it all, the atmosphere and moods are exquisite. The film however, true to form with Burroughs, is meandering and rather thin on the ground in terms of plotting and ideas. There are longer but paletable stretches early ony, but the 3rd act when characters go to the jungle with the express purpose of taking a lot of drugs and hallucinating. The flesh-melding, expressionist, non literal expression of moods comes back, but it's started to feel a little meandering at this point. Still beautifully shot.
The madness of the affair never reaches Hunter S. Thompson territory, despite glimpses and flashes of crazy adventures, and it remains a heartfelt love story about a flawed man longing for connection.

"Conclave" - Review

Upon the death of the Pope, unassuming Cardinal Thomas Lawrence (Ralph Fiennes) assembles the College of Cardinals, in his capacity as Dean, to elect a new one. Secluded from the rest of the world, the Cardinals vote upon their preferred candidates: Liberal reformer Aldo Bellini (Stanley Tucci) hoping to capture the progressive vote; middle of the road Joseph Tremblay (John Lithgow) doing his own thing in the corner; popular Nigerian candidate Joseph Adeyimi (Lucian Msamati); and bespectacled Italian traditionalist Goffredo Tedesco (Sergio Castellito) capturing a time long passed. Lawrence oversees this dramatic tug of war, and must also contend with a recently inducted Cardinal of Kabul, a young man known as Vincent Benitez (Carlos Diehz), and a simmering undercurrent of resentment and drama...

Well constructed with immaculate cinematography and impeccable sound design, very much a pedigree picture with the talent involved, it has an excellent speech from Fiennes at the start of the film about doubt. It weaves its themes of a man succumbing to the base instinct of ambition amongst this nest of vipers well, and the cast are strong across the board: particularly Fiennes, the ever wonderful Tucci, and the always excellent Lithgow and Rossellini; but Castellito also threatens to steal the show with a discussion of linguistics and boundary lines.
The weakness of the film comes in its writing and plotting, and I can only imagine that this is the result of being adapted from the often-silly novels of Jonathan Harris.
The examination of the Conclave and its procedure, a unique setting for its politics, is undercut by soap opera revelations and gossipy bickering, populated by characters we know are evil because...
John Lithgow plays Cardinal Tremblay, so we know he's up to no good, which is enhanced by every line reading requiring a twirl of his moustache. Cardinal Tedesco is vaping, so we know he's bad (though to be fair, there is a fun little contrast throughout of the cardinals in their finery using smartphones and smoking cigarettes, it's cute), and we know that the Nigerian cardinal is homophobic because a character tells us so. I like the characters when they are doing their politicking, but it is by the grace of the actors that they are saved from being cardboard cutouts. It jam packs a lot of things in, and just about juggles them, but it is at the expense of some of the plotting, and with one twist too many to keep it "fresh" and "daring".
Honestly I'd have been delighted with discussions of theology and terse arguments about doctrine and theory.
It's a solid film, and worth a rental.

"The Wild Robot" - Review

Introducing the ROZZUM Unit 7134: for all of your needs! Do you have a task which needs accomplishing? Then contact your Rozzum 7134 (Lupita Nyong'o), currently operating on an island free of humans - where the unit ends up interacting with all kinds of animals, and adding all new elements of her programming along the way...

Dreamworks are back, baby!
I went into this knowing nothing about the source material (a children's book which apparently director Chris Sanders loved) or the film proper, wanting something a little more relaxed after the emotionally knotted roller coaster of "Anora".
I cried 3 times.
From director Chris Sanders (of "Lilo and Stitch", "The Croods" and "How to Train Your Dragon" fame, as well as co writer of "Mulan"), this thing thus has some pedigree and experience: all of it put to magnificent use. The film looks like a watercolour, building upon that previous strong of 3D CGI Dreamworks stuff, making it look a lot more pleasant than films of late, and there are some absoultely breathtaking images throughout, almost ripped straight from a picture book or an art gallery (as cliched as that may be) and used to spectacular effect. It's a seriously pretty film: not "Kubo" pretty, but lovely nonetheless. The score by Kris Bowers (his first for an animated film) is the highlight: soaring and beautiful music, got me choked up frequently. Nyong'o is a treasure, as always, and absolutely carries this film with her performance, but the supporting cast are no slouches: Kit Connor does a good job, Pedro Pascal is always wonderful, Matt Berry plays a beaver who makes a "bullshit" joke, and Stephanie Hsu almost steals the show as a fellow robot. It's a tad rushed in parts, but its central story about teaching a goose to fly, and how kindness and coming together should be seen as survival instincts rather than weaknesses, makes up for it. It's a lovely film.

"Anora" - Review

New York stripper Anora (Mikey Madison) is hired by Russian oligarch's son Ivan "Vanya" Zakharov (Mark Eydelshteyn) as an escort, due to her ability to speak Russian. A whirlwind romance follows, told as a fairy tale fable through the lense of Sean Baker...

Spellbinding.
Bold, audacious, beautiful, emotionally complex, and far funnier than I was expecting: it is an absolutely wild ride which leaves you breathless. When the wool falls from Anora's eyes and the spell is broken, it is not in some vast overly-verbose monologue, but a silent awkward car journey through the cold and bustling night. A love story ripples beneath the surface, but not the one you expect. We strive for human connection, we all deserve to be loved.
Is Anora a grifter, an idealist, a professional, or a fairy tale dreamer? Maybe she's all 4... By the end of it, on a pragmatic sense, she is better off: but was any of this worth her pride, her dignity, the raw emotional scars which will develop from this? It's messy, clean, bright, dark, loud, quiet, funny, sad and exactly what I wanted and needed it to be. It's about the human experience, and a pitch perfect examination of life on the lower rungs of society.
And of all the things I expected to see, Take That was maybe rock bottom, but much appreciated.
I get chills thinking about this movie

"Heretic" - Review

A pair of Mormon missionaries, the droll, sensible veteran Sister Barnes (Sophie Thatcher) and the bubbly wide-eyed idealistic optimist Sister Paxton (Chloe East), find themselves at the precipice of the home of "Mr Reed" (Hugh Grant), who has expressed interest in their church. Attempting to convert him, they step over the threshhold, and are in for a long night of the soul.

Marketing and selling a horror movie around the continued comeback of beloved English actor Hugh Grant is a bold movie, but something which pays off. There has always been a sense of malice and menace behind that stuttering, sputtering quaint English stammer; and here Grant uses it to excellent, enthralling effect. He's hypnotic and relishing the part, relishing the chance to be part of his "freak show" era as an actor. He's well worth the admission, and is genuinely putting in one of his best turns: he has a fantastic conversation about Monopoly which had me grinning ear to ear and gripping my seat.
This isn't to say that the film suffers as a result of him not being there: the script stands on its own as a tightly focused bottle movie, where I can happily watch our leads discuss religion and dogma and faith, before they even get to the spooky stuff. The 2 leads are solid and believable without being charicatures, and the movie has a lot of fun with deciding and subverting and flip-flopping on who its final girl is. I appreciate the baroque square and box imagery too (a visitor framed by the gate, the walls of Grant's home, the jumper our big man wears...)
The movie wobbles after 40 minutes (kudos though, that is some juicy build up!) when the 2 girls enter the doors, but quickly regains its feet after a while, about the same time that Grant takes centre stage again. It is fun and has a whale of a time discussing faith, and manages to stick the landing with a well-planted arc about a butterfly...
Come for Hugh Grant, stay for Hugh Grant, and have a tight 3-act play. Oh, and Topher Grace has a surprise cameo in this, and I like seeing him in things.

"A Different Man" - Review

Edward (Sebastian Stan) is a meek, mild, shy and awkward aspiring actor with no self esteem and neurofibromatosis. His life is changed twice: first when a delightful aspiring playwright named Ingrid (Renate Reinsve) moves in next door, and they hit it off, sharing stories about his life and genuinely forming one of his genuine human connections, which may blossom into something more. Second, Edward is selected to be the participant in a trial for an experimental drug which may alter or even remove his condition...

A bold as brass, pitch black little comedy which, unusually, makes for a double-feature with "The Substance".
The first half is a sweet, dry, lovely awkward little character piece with tinges of body horror, shot like it was made in the 1970s or early 1980s (it's grainy, and has those zooms, closeups and edits like something made by Frank Henenlotter); there are well observed little details like the looks given to Edward by the passers by (a scene in the cafe is excellent for this) and the ever encroaching steady drip, drip, drip from the roof of his flat is simply excellent build up and metaphor for his growing problem...
Then comes the second half, where it becomes a different beast entirely. I can't say much, because this was genuinely such a pleasant surprise and a wonderfully awkward, anxiety inducing tale of envy, but suffice to say: the arrival of Adam Pearson as Oswald is an inspired character and a delightful performance, where the joke is that incredibly British thing of "this man is perfect and I hate him". The film has excellent performances from its main trio, in fact, and has a lot to say about not only how we as society tackle facial disfigurements, but also how we place on pedastals those with them and overcompensate, and our enduring awkwardness about it all. The "Metamorphosis" sub pastiche does not go unnoticed.

"Megalopolis" - Mercy Killing

In the not-too-distant future city of New Rome, "genius" architect Cesar Catilina (Adam Driver) is attempting to pave the way for a new Utopia, using his new material "Megalon", a multi-purpose material which also gives him the ability to stop time. He is opposed by Mayor Franklyn Cicero (Giancarlo Esposito) and a director out of his fucking mind. Stuck in the middle are Cicero's daughter Julia (Nathalie Emmanuel) and the people of the city, whilst from the sidelines Catilina's driver Fundi Romaine (Laurence Fishbourne) narrates, and television presenter Wow Platinum (Aubrey Plaza) ingratiates herself into the life of not only Catilina, whom she loves, but his treacherous inbred cousin Claudio (Shia LaBouef) and disgustingly wealthy uncle Hamilton Crassus III (Jon Voight, yay?)...

A palindrome of tedium and a monument to grandiose emptiness, presided over by the decaying husk of auteurism, seizing upon scattered imagery in the same way in which a first time watcher of "Baraka" who is exceedingly enamoured with psychotropic drugs and the works of Terrence Mallick but also really thinks he's "not like the other kids" because he reads books and Shakespeare rather than watches Tik Tok would do.

Made over the course of several lifetimes (including that of his wife, to whom this film is dedicated and deserved far, far, far better), "Megalopolis" cost $120 million in Coppola's own cash, a pet vanity project free from the shackles of studio interference and corporate ghouls tethering his vision and genius.
Where are those 9 producers on "Hellboy" (2019) when you need them?
A preposterously backwards looking attempt to grasp at any idea, hurling images and the most embarassing kind of dialogue in a manner so haphazard you'd think it was a 1st year film student: you'd tell that pretentious cravat-wearing prick to get a real job if he showed you this.
Cast members are not characters, but dolls spewing philosophy at each other in increasingly cheap setpieces (underpopulated nightclubs, C-roll from "King of New York") between title cards etched into stone rather than the memory, as they attempt to jangle keys in front of you in attempt to gain "cult status": Aubrey Plaza femdomming Shia LaBouef and dressing as a slutty Cleopatra; Adam Driver fighting a brick wall as he hallucinates on drugs that he has a million clown arms; recreations of Ancient Roman gladiatorial arenas which look more akin to an event to sell a patricularly odious timeshare; Jason Schwartzmann playing the drums, or Dustin Hoffman randomly dying to collapsing pillar in what feels like a fucking cutaway gag on "Mr Show".
But instead of wonder and weirdness, they grasp at boredom. For a movie about a central character who can "control time" I'll give them this: time did indeed seem to compress and dilate on a whim in this movie, stretching like the shooting schedule of "Apocalypse Now" or the French Plantation Scene of "Apocalypse Now" in a manner which is frankly criminal. It should be illegal to make me look at my watch this much. It should be illegal to make something more tedious than a silent documentary on a "weird dream a pigeon had last night" shot out of focus..
Laurence Fishbourne drones in quotes and narrates events we already watch. An editor would have caught this in post: it's that shit cut of "Blade Runner" but instead of budget Sam Spade, it's Sam Spade quoting the bylines of every Andrew Tate fan on a message board from 2001.
We get terrible renditions of Shakespeare in place of dialogue, and where the rest of the dialogue is not simply quotes, misquotes or pretentious corrections of misquotes with the original quotes: it is repetitive. When not repetitive, it repeats itself. When it is not doing that, it duplicates. And beyond duplication it clones itself. And it's repetitive to boot.
I am entirely unsure what was inside the copious amounts of weed FFC was smoking when he made this movie and molested several people, but I hope that one day it can be weaponised so that we can one day infect other nations with the power to dictate such terrible choices in acting, plotting, coherence and storytelling: that shit was potent enough to eliminate the human mind's capacity for reality, reason and coherent thought.
Shia LaBouef prances like a preening theatre kid, but not in a fun way, more like that annoying one who won't stop singing Hamilton at you in a cafe one night because you mentioned that you liked Lin Manuel Miranda's "In the Heights".
Adam Driver is as wooden as his daughter in "Annette" (just watch "Annette", that movie fucking rules).
Nathalie Emmanuel is done by harder than she is in the "Fast and Furious" movies.
Giancarlo Esposito is... fucking hell... not the worst here, he gives as good a go as any but fuck me, not even he makes this dialogue work.
Aubrey Plaza somehow comes out unscathed: she plays her "Wow Platinum" social climber fem-domme femme fatale money expert golddigger like April Ludgate infiltrating a theatre troupe and mocking them all the way, but somehow getting nominated for both leads in their production of "Blood Brothers" for her talent. I love her.
The central conceit of the film, as he has stated, is to try to compare the fall of Rome to modern day America, and vice versa - in between the Roman names (weirdly casting Cicero as a villain and Catalina as a hero, in a reversal of a conspiracy that only like, 4 scholars and my mate Sam care about) and the blunt force trauma imagery, we get limp-wristed "satire" which I have to read as satire because otherwise my brain cannot comprehend a script this terrible. Red caps thrown at a fallen wannabe grifter dictator who curses their name whilst a sign reads "Make New Rome Great Again!" is discarded.
That sort of bullshit.
But this is not the core concept, as much as he wants it to be.
FFC (who has our leads discuss the fact that their baby who will "lead the future" will be called Francis, and names one of his 2 protagonists after himself) is actually making a movie about a "visionary" who is misunderstood by the world around him, oppressed and threatened and plotted against by rich bankers and wealthy elites who do not care for his vision: and unintentionally makes himself out to be a vile, condescending, pretentious, sexist, sorrowful drug fiend and dickhead surrounded by Yes-Men (fucking James Remar is in this! I legally have to see James Remar movies! And he gets, maybe, like, 2 lines! Fucking BLASPHEMY!); and that's just the character. I almost want to believe that there is some sort of plot against FFC, that there are studio executives with grudges and axes to grind, who have been praying for this film to fail, because that then would at least be some sort of reasonable explanation for this film being so dreadful (other than the obvious and correct assertion that it is simply dreadful). But no such luck.
I know that reading this back makes it sound somewhat interesting, somewhat fascinating as a failure, that in years this is going to be seen as a comedy camp classic, that there will be a reevalutaion of this work:
But no.
Genuinely, do not bother.
This was interminable, there was constant derisive laughter in our audience, and myself and the two people I was watching this went through the stages of grief in about 8 seconsds, or longer: time means nothing.
I can't even find time to talk about how all of the incestuous banking family and villains throw out jussssssssssst enough Yiddish to make it seem deliberate, but not QUITE enough to make it seem like it's being anti-Semitic, or the fact that the movie's sexist as shit to boot (I mean, you could probably guess that).
Fuck this movie.
Fuck me.
It is purely by his own Folly, his own petard hoisted by arrogance (and molestation allegations) that has led him to this disaster, and this will be how he goes. As coherent and meaningful as a collection of untranslated Horus poetry loaded into a shotgun and fired at a passing windmill made of bees. As fucking exciting as reading my fucking blogs.
As doomed as its namesake but nowhere near as interesting, coherent, respectable or with anything to say.

"Hellboy: The Crooked Man"

As they transport a giant spider across Appalachia, somthing goes awry and Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defence agent/partial demon man "Hellboy" (Jack Kesy) and first-time-in-the-field reasearcher Bobbie Jo Song (Adeline Rudolph) find themselves stuck in the sticks. First looking for the spider and a phone, they soon realise that something dark lurks in these woods, and it is very much their job to fix it. Alongside a pleasant enough country boy here to meet his parents (Jefferson White), they find themselves drawn into the legend the locals call "The Crooked Man"...

After the festering pile of executive tomfoolery in the shape of a film "Hellboy" (2019) and continued sagas of screwing over Guillermo Del Toro, this one comes as a bit of a surprise. Nobody was begging for one, there was not an ounce of build up, and it dropped the same weekend as "Megalopolis" (excited to watch that fucking trainwreck! Stay tuned!).
It's actually alright.
From one of the directors of "Crank", it is a mish mash of tones and genres, but just about sticks the landing. It is at its best when it is about the American folklore, the strange backwater superstitions and the "odd folk in the woods", left behind in the post-War countryside and fending for themselves with witchcraft and bargains. The build up is rushed and over-tightened, and the atmosphere doesn't quite get the air it needs to breathe and be as scary as it wants; but there are some spooky images (I appreciate the pitch black backdrops, and a juddering, jarring nightmare edit of a serpent on a lady) and some old-school horror played straight. The main villain isn't as spooky as I wanted him to be, but when the movie starts to breathe and take off, and be about a blue-collar guy and his bookish sidekick helping a regular-Joe fight zombies; it's fun! Kesy is fine as Hellboy, and I wish there was more Adeline Rudolph, and honestly it's kind of an interesting and refreshing take having the hero/lead character be Jefferson White's Tom Ferrell. It all adds a pleasant peasant-eye view to proceedings. I like the campier B-movie silliness as they use blessed shovels to fight demons, but when it tries to tie into "lore" and "history" of our titular hero, whom we are seemingly expected to simply know, it doesn't feel as earned as it could be, though I like the editing of the parallel traumas between Song and Hellboy.
This one I can see becoming a cult classic. It just about sticks the landing with its juggling of genres, and uses its lower budget well. Nothing too egregious sticks out in terms of mess (despite the MOUNTAIN of producers attached) and it is a solid rental.

"The Substance" - Review

Workout star of a prime time show, and hottest thing on the planet, Elizabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore) has it all! But all good things must come to an end: she's 50 and, as made abundantly clear by her slithery boss Harvey (Dennis Quaid), there's no room for her in this industry now. Despondent and miserable, she finds her way back in: far from pulling a Mikey Saber, she instead uses "The Substance", to create a "newer", "hotter", "better" version of herself (Margaret Qualley), to ride high once again in that industry. All seems well, she has to follow a few rules and success seems given: Stabilize every day, swap every seven days, and remember that there is no she and her, only "Us". Fame, youth, beauty and more, are only an injection away...

Rightfully compared to David Cronenberg, I'd agree but not for the reasons people think when they immediately think Cronenberg: it has that almost asexual, clinical dissection of glamour and sex, that horniness and sleaze eyed up with an almost alien fascination and disgust which feels more akin to fascination than perversion. It's less titillating and more inquisitive and ponderous.
The whole movie is gorgeously shot, very French.
It has frequent wide angle lenses, immaculate colour design (the yellow coat and orange hallways are a particularly striking set of images), making for frequently bright, memorable imagery. There are a lot of wide angle and fish eye lenses, usually with an exquisitely ghoulish Dennis Quaid (playing his best Ray Liotta, RIP) far too close, adding disgust and discomfort effortlessly. And then the surgical, looming, disgusting gross body horror you came for is (whilst underplayed for a majority of the film, we'll get there...) neatly done, slow, effective, gross.
The sound design is the star of the show: I never want to hear a man eating shrimp ever again. Fucking gross There's a lot of food and consumption and devouring imagery and metaphors. The film descends into addiction, the biases and loaded decks and prejudices against women, the hypocrisy and vulgarity of the entertainment industry and society's double standards for women, and to this extent casting Demi Moore (giving one of her best performances in a lifetime) is an inspired piece of parody. She is great in this: her cookery scene is great fun, and encapsulates the movie well.
The final act is where you, I, and everyone with a semblance of understanding of horror movies, Cronenberg, body horror and pacing are expecting it to come together:
Oh boy it does that!

Deliciously gross, surprisingly rather "Society" inspired stuff (I kept humming the "Eton Boat Song" in my head, you'll see why...) comes alive in the finale: gross, bloody, manic, and a suitable slice of madness from what we have seen so far. It's not as unhinged as something like "Cuckoo", and is a more reserved, collected, orderly affair with something to say, but if you have the patience for it, and enjoy the Soska Sisters remake of "Rabid", I can recommend this.

"Beetlejuice Beetlejuice" - Review

Lydia Deetz (Winona Ryder) works as a television ghost whisperer, alongside her lover and producer (Justin Theroux). She gets called back home by her performance artist stepmother Delia (Catherine O'Hara, naturally stealing the show), for a family emergency - just in time to reconnect with her sullen daughter Astrid (Jenna Ortega) and be drawn into the afterlife of notorious dickbag ghost "Betelgeuse" (Michael Keaton), who has his own problems with rampaging ex-wife Dolores (Monica Bellucci) on a double-murderous rampage, and a plan of his own to weasel out of it...

This is good clean fun, something of a return to form for Tim Burton. I laughed a lot more than I thought I would (Catherine O'Hara, perhaps unsurprisingly, stole the show and got most of them), and the whole affair has a rather cartoony, brightly patterned nonsense energy, complete with fanciful sets and that Goth-nostalgia he's known for. Honestly, it works. It's less "reverence for a classic" and more "fuck it, let's do another whackadoodle adventure". My screening was the full spectrum of viewers: a person who hadn't watched "Beetlejuice", a person who watched it 20 years ago (me) and vaguely remembers it, and a big fan of the first. All three of us had a good time, we laughed at different parts and at various parts, enjoyed some of the creativity on display (the claymation sequence is both fun, and a good way to not have Jeffrey Jones in your movie...), and the cast are having fun: Jenna Ortega fits well into the Burton-verse with her big eyes and Goth girl pout; Winona Ryder is always good, Beetlejuice is not overused; Burn Gorman gets some very "Corpse Bride" lines as a priest; Justin Theroux has a blast as a new age shitbag ex-husband; and Willem Dafoe is a bizarre but delightful addition as a movie-star turned cop. Bellucci is underused, and the plot takes a while to get going, laying a lot of groundwork and spinning a lot of plates.
It's a fun film, it doesn't have anything to say and is rather disposable, but it's not trying to be anything else. It's enjoyable, competently made, and does well with its lunatic bouncy energy.

"Cuckoo" - Review

Teenage musician Gretchen (Hunter Schafer) is struggling to move on from the death of her mother. What she doesn't need in her life right now are her father (Marton Csokas, not a villain for once), stepmother (the ever wonderful and sadly underused Jessica Henwick) and sister Alma (Mia Liu) moving across the world to a German Resort Hotel in the Alps. She doesn't want this weird Dr Konig (Dan Stevens and his Meg Foster eyes) being weird, and DEFINITELY doesn't need the strange goings on around the resort...

Neon have done it again, folks!
After the fucking terrifying "Longlegs", they have helped bring us a fable of European horror, tinged with the surreal, thoughts and imagery on motherhood, found families, genuine tension, and a trans lead whose transness is never part of the plot, or even remarked upon except in this review. Refreshing!
But fuck that!
You're here for:

It's the STEVENS VARIETY HOUR BABY!
Honestly, this movie is fucking excellent fun. Not "Abigail" fun, and not as good as "Malignant" for all of that movie's lunacy, but a checklist of madness and unchecked nightmarish insanity all the same.
Dan Stevens wielding a German accent and a rifle in the world's shittest gunfight as he screams about "breeding" does not even make it into the Top 5 list of weird ass shit to occur in this movie.
It's that kind of madness.

I have so many of these.
This movie has it all!
French lesbians!
Eggs!
Birds!
The traumas of motherhood in the nature versus nurture debate!
Dan Stevens in a German accent!
Raincoat monsters! (Who can genuinely fucking do one, they spook me out)
Dan Stevens!
Hunter Schafer telling everybody that this shit is fucking weird, man!
Dan Stevens!

I love this movie.
It makes for an excellent double bill with "Hatching", for all of that European energy and quirky humour.

"Blink Twice" - Review

Struggling young server Frida (Naomi Ackie) gets swept up in an invite to the luxury island of recently controversial tech billionaire Slater King (Channing Tatum), for a long week of partying and hanging out with his friends. But as she and her best friend Jess (Alia Shawkat) unwind with drinking, narcotics and the company of Slater King, his friends and some women they have invited, something seems off...

Zoe Kravitz writes and directs in her debut, and honestly? It's pretty good, even if I wish it had gone for the original title of "Pussy Island".
It's a solid fable of the abusive, unrepentant men and what they do with their power, with things to say about controlling rich people, and even the women who enable them (Geena Davis is in this! Nice!). The mystery, as it unfolds, is fun, and cut supremely well: there's a wonderful use of cameras, and some lizard/reptile imagery. The colour palette is bright and engaging, and it fits on the whole When the film veers into black comedy and satire, it manages to not wobble, and instead still feel like the same film, counteracting the rather grim shit going on (it's exactly what you think it is). The ideas and imagery of memory are well woven into the script. But honestly? The casting is what absolutely makes it:
Naomie Ackie is a wonderful lead, I like her, and her gapped teeth are refreshingly unique. She performs wonderfully.
Alia Shawkat is, again, always welcome (fuck I love "Green Room).
Channing Tatum is an odd choice, but after sleeping on it I found that I liked the performance: it's the first performance of his I've legitimately liked, even though I'm not a big fan of him as a performer.
But the supporting cast are what absolutely knock it out of the park for me.
Adria Arjona lands a 1-2 punch after "Hit Man" with this: redeeming herself for being in "Morbius" with a legitimately great turn as a reality TV star who questions why she is pitting herself against fellow women (she's honestly a highlight for me, and steals the show).
Then, there's an almost meta-commentary on the cast here, which really, really, works in my mind:
Christian Slater (fuck yes! He's BACK, baby!) plays a down and out, once-handsome sidekick and generally pretty funny best friend of Slater, named Vic - inspired casting.
Simon Rex (ADORE him, watch "Red Rocket". Stop reading this, track it down, and watch "Red Rocket") has cemented himself as an incredible performer, and here plays Mikey Saber if he wasn't a porn star: a coat-tail riding leech with none of the charm of Saber. It's great.
Haley Joel Osmont is a self-pitying incel desperate to lose weight incel (not him in real life, I think he seems like a nice guy) but again is great.
And for instant creepiness, you hire Kyle "Twin Peaks" MacLachlan!
Levon Hawke sounds EXACTLY like his dad, and is playing a sleazy Ethan Hawke rom com character, a "nice guy".
The film is slick, interesting and has things to say, and is a solid debut from Kravitz (weird to say that...)...

"Alien: Romulus" - Review

Orphaned daughter of miners Rain (Cailee Spaeny) is forced to rethink her life when her work quota at Weyland Yutani Corporation is suddenyl lifted. Alongside her repurposed android brother Andy (David Jonsson), she hitches a ride with a bunch of scavengers: her old friend and ex-flame Tyler (Archie Renaux), his lovable sister Kay (the eternally wonderful Isabela Merced), their utter shithead cousin Bjorn (Spike Fearn) and their pilot Navarro (Aileen Wu) - they plan to scavenge the wreck of the old starship Romulus for the parts they need to leave the star system. But all is not well aboard the Romulus, and things take a turn for the worse...

It's great to have Fede Alvarez back making movies (his "Evil Dead" is great fun, and "Don't Breathe" is his best), and here he has a good time with the film. There's a fun sequence in Zero Gravity involving acid blood, the opening is a solid, faily good examination of capitalist hellscapes and dystopia. We get the very Fede Alvarez character archetypes who do the job wonderfully, the strongest arc and performance belongs to Jonsson as Andy: he moves with an excellent stillness and careful calculation. He easily steals the show, and shows off impressive range. Plus his dad jokes are a cute touch.
There is enough well done planting here to make me think that Alvarez has a future in agriculture, and when everything hits the fan it does so with aplomb: you can tell particularly in the final act that this is from an "Evil Dead" fan. It's a good recommend.
However.
All too frequently there are moments of lazy pandering (Andy says "Get away from her, you bitch!") and lines from "Alien" are quoted verbatim, there are shots designed solely for the audience to go "oooh, just like that movie I'm watching a sequel to!". But the most egregious, pathetic example comes early on as a major plot point when a CGI rendition of Ian Holm is there solely to make you go "Oh! It's Ash! From that film!". A ghoulish sneering, contemptuous blot on an otherwise good solid work.

"Trap" - Review

Pop Star Lady Raven is coming to town, and devoted father Cooper (Josh Hartnett) has brought his daughter Riley (Ariel Donoghue) along. But something seems off: there are police everywhere, and Cooper seems on edge. This whole concert is designed to trap notorious serial killer "The Butcher", and Cooper can feel the net drawing tighter.

I like Shyamalan, I've decided. He gets a lot of shit, and is something of a meme in the world, but I enjoy his campy style and how he'll always have the genesis of a great idea. His movies have his fingerprints all over them (usually) in terms of his weird dialogue and tightrope of a tone, and the other thing. You know.
This one is one of his better films in a while: the central conceit of following a serial killer trapped like a cornered rat, making him our protagonist, is certainly a refreshing and unique one. It's pretty fun too: watching him spin and improvise and work out things on the fly. It almost leans into the camp, and could therefore be fantastic fun, but what is already there works: Cooper having to run back and forth to his daughter (a rather good Ariel Donoghue), trying not to let the mask slip. Hartnett is great, clearly relishing the role: he uses his natural charm well, and there are wonderful moments when he twitches or has a darkness loom over his eyes (the conversation with the mother of a girl who is bullying his is great); and honestly his performance carries the whole thing. He'll be a myriad of emotions in a moment, without overplaying it. I like him in this. Also, somewhat amusingly, they still find a way to write him removing his shirt into the script: you can take the heartthrob out of the 2000s, but you can't take the 2000s out of the heartthrob... So yeah, he's great, way better than he needs to be in a movie like this, and it's a good showcase for his talents as a performer.
Then comes Act 3.
It gets a bit wobbly when he goes backstage, but even then it somewhat recovers in a house sequence...
It should have ended there.
It drags into real "Looney Tunes" territory in the last 20-30 minutes, before settling back down at the house once more, as if it is freewheeling and padding for time. It's a shame, after a quite good Hartnett variety hour, that instead of cutting it short and making a well made thriller with his own touches, Shyamalan instead succumbs to thinking he's saying things about trauma and motherhood and being clever. Still, Pill is good.
The build up featuring people clebrating and relishing Shyamalan's daughter as Lady Raven is... hmm, but you know, it's fine.

"Borderlands" - Review

In the distant future, a gruff bounty hunter named Lilith (Cate Blanchett) must return to her run down home planet of Pandora in order to rescue Tina (Ariana Greenblatt), the daughter of corporate magnate Atlas (Edgar Ramirez), who has been kidnapped by rogue soldier Roland (Kevin Hart) and hulking madman Krieg (Florian Munteanu).

I'm so happy Eli Roth has brought back the 2000s videogame adaptation.
Well, that's a little unfair: this is not an Eli Roth film. Suffering from a, shall we say "troubled" production", this has been going on and off for a while now, and finally staggering into cinemas this year. I'll confess that I was never a "Borderlands" fan - I found it repetitive, grating and boring, and am also hesitant to ever give money to Grease Baron Randy Pithcofrd. I have always had a troubled relationship with Roth's art: he loves the kind of trashy movies I do, but has always struggled with making them fun and likable. Only "Thanksgiving" (which he dropped out of "Borderlands" to make) really turned me back around to liking him, and his kids' movie "The House With a Clock in its Walls" is easily his best work. On paper, Roth is the best kind of person to make a high energy, blood fuelled adaptation of "Borderlands".
Too bad it's an Ari Arad movie.
Yes folks, it is that refreshing kind of shittiness where the stench of production interference is lingering over it: much like that last terrible "Hellboy" reboot (they even use "Supermassive Blackhole" here too), where the movie is sliced to ribbons and all traces of Eli Roth are sanded away. Therer are moments when it should be an Eli Roth bloodbath: Lilith uses a sniper rifle to take out a man with a headshot, but there is no blood; and the gang turning an acid pipe on approaching goons, only for us to see nothing as they just fall over. A bloodless "Borderlands" is the least of its worries (it's still based on "Borderlands") but it is an enormous strike against the project, sucking and draining all life from it. I'll just say that it was bold of them to have a trailer for "Kneecap" before this. The editing and fight scenes are reminiscent of "Suicide Squad" - lots of cutting and jarring nonsense which makes it hard to realise where anybody is in relation to anything else. It's all just, fucking amateur hour, and a clear sign of the tinkering and dicing behind the scenes.

But okay, fine, the movie has poor fight scenes (all of them, to a T, are a character shooting a gun off screen and then cutting to a new scene of a character being shot, bloodlessly, and usually from a different angle to where the bullet should come from. Fucking shocking.), Civvie11 in his "Max Payne" video effortlessly broke down one of them better than I could, if you want to give it a whirl. Honestly Civvie11 is fun anyway...
But fine, poor fight scenes? As long as we can giggle at some jokes and-
NO.
Ooooooh boy.
Wow.
Okay.
So.

I'd like to thank the makers of the film for getting one thing right: they've actually made a film which accurately captures the writing of "Borderlands". This is the most obnoxious, tiring, dreadful scripting I've seen: all of the humour is characters yattering at a million miles an hour, repeating the obvious things on screen. "Time to make it rain! ... With your body parts!" Yeesh.
I don't fault the actors, nobody could make this dialogue enjoyable or interesting, and we know this because they cast Jack Black and he was honestly the worst one. My partner was writhing in her seat and begging for his character to die every scene, that bad was his writing, and it gave me some form of enjoyment in proceedings.

But writing obnoxious characters is Eli Roth's bread and butter, right? Well, no, as we've established: this is an Ari Arad movie.
The characters are annoying in a new, fresh way uniquely different to Roth's brand of terrible: and by the time we're expected to believe that they're friends in a cut price "Guardians of the Galaxy" moment - I genuinely had to ask why. They've done no bonding or chatting, it's all been them hurling quips, and one scene of Cate Blanchett talking to Ariana Greenblatt. Poor Ariana Greenblatt, by the way: she seems to have been placed in an arms race with Jack Black for who can be more annoying on screen, but I'll give her a slight pass as she's a child, and a Gearbox approximation of "quirky and funny". Though, judging by what Randall Greasy Pitchford keeps with his company documents, maybe we should ask around about the thought process behind that character... I imagine that the scripting was thus:

And then there's the colour and design angle: some of it looks good and delightful:there are bright poppy colours to lure the attention and distract you from the dialogue on screen, a close attempt to that cel-shading we've had in the games. And Gina Gershon shows up for 6 minutes as Mad Moxi in Jessica Nigri cosplay, and it's cute. But then, in between rough and raw greenscreen, we get the market: which looks like an aisle from a convention warehouse, honestly it's rough. But by that point I was bored and checked out, I spent about 6 minutes going "Wait, is that Jessica Nigri behind Gina Gershon?!" And it turns out that she was in this too! A cute cameo, I'll give them that.

A representation of Nigri and Gershon on set.

I'll give the movie 2 other positives: Jamie Lee Curtis is such a talented actor that when given the part of Dr Tanis (a nothing character), she chose to play it in the least obvious way, and I like that. It's still not good (it's "Borderlands" dialogue) but kudos to her.
And Florian Munteanu got the one legitimate laugh from me.

"Kneecap" - Review

An Irish language teacher (JJ O Docharteigh) is asked to come and translate for a young man (Liam Og O Hannaidh) arrested and refusing to speak English. The former connects with his charge, and find that he is a skilled lyricist and, alongside his fellow degenerate (Naoise O Caireallain) reluctantly embarks upon a musical career with the pair.

A debauched and hilariously filthy "rags to Primark" tale. On the surface a simple music biography (Kneecap play themselves in this), it instead becomes a springboard for discussing colonialism, the Irish language, and how the simple act of speaking it can be rebellion unto itself, particularly in a a conservative and (shall we say...) "wrought" environment. It goes into gatekeeping of revolution and rebelliousness, and has a lot to say about it all. It's a snarling, uproarious, punky form of cinema and art; with neat flourishes like the use of subtitles and squiggly, cartoony graphics. It's cloaked in irreverence, and exceedingly, gut-bustingly funny debauchery of drug trips and parties. The soundtrack is excellent (as one would hope) and I have heard it best described as "the soundtrack to getting blackout drunk".
Its cloak of lunacy and debauchery is a veneer for passionate, ardent defence of language and rebellion. The jokes come thick and fast, but it never neglects character, and is both uproarious and righteous in equal measure. You'll be cackling like a maniac at the antics of getting ketamine confused with cocaine, and then pondering why speakers of an endangered language are told to be perfect "presentable" spokesman, as if they NEED to be, when for years an entire culture has been hammered down and told not to speak their language with pride. You'll have a funny, perverted, filthy romance as a girl begs her lover to talk dirty by saying proud Catholic slogans and retorting with Protestant filth (an excellent Jessica Reynolds); and then one of the gang will be hungover and high as a kite from the night before, trying to go to his job. It's like if "Deadpool" was witty and had anything to say.

"Twisters" - Review

Meteorologist Kate Carter (Daisy Edgar Jones) loses her friends in an experiment to map tornados, and shuts herself off from the world. When fellow survivor and scientist friend Javi (Anthony Ramos) convinces her to come out of self-imposed exile and try it again, the pair fall into the orbit of storm chaser and YouTube star Tyler Owens (Glenn Powell) and his team, embarking upon adventures in storm chasing.

"Twister" was not as good as people remember.
This one is thus a good sequel to that first film. Its characters are perfunctory, the screenplay is honestly a good exercise in dissecting screenplays: you can time each beat and moment and turning point to the very second and page, ala "Save the Cat", and you're here for some tornado silliness. It ticks along nicely, and you remember the characters because they've cast quirky actors and rising stars in these perfunctory parts: the team who die at the start are played by Kiernan Shipka (wearing glasses, and you know she's the quirky smart one); Nik Dodani (so you know he's the nervous one); and Daryl "I Don't Actually Sleep with an Older Actor This Time" McCormack (so you know he's the charming, likable one). That trend continues into the present day setting: we've got Sasha Lane as the drone pilot (fun side note: every time we see a film with her in at our local cinema, it's in the same screen. Henceforth it shall be the "Sasha Lane" screen); Brandon Perea from "Nope" is the right hand man of our lead; Katy O'Brien plays a mechanic with about 6 lines, but you know - it's the lady from "Love Lies Bleeding" so I let it pass; Future "Superman" and star of "Pearl" David Corenswet turns up as the "douchebag corporate" character you enjoy seeing get splattered in mud; and there's honestly a nice little bit with a reporter played by Harry Haddon-Paton, where he goes to take photographs of people in danger but instead places it down and goes to help.
Powell and Edgar-Jones are the stars here, and the former is lovable and engaging, and Edgar-Jones holds the ship steady with a less flashy part. It's a servicable, trundling along disaster movie. Everybody can sit down and watch it, it's fine. And thus, it is a perfect sequel to the mediocre "Twister". Hell, I was more interested in seeing this than "Ryan Reynolds and Wolverine".
I do kind of want that gadget drill gimmick truck Tyler drives though, that's stupidly fun.

"Longlegs" - Review

Promising FBI Agent Lee Harker (Maika Monroe) is plucked from a pool of newcomers to aid in the investigation of a serial killer on a decades long spree who murders entire families, seemingly never entering the house, and leaving only a cryptic note at every crime signed "Longlegs". Harker begins discovering a deeply rooted, horrifying evil which threatens not just her life, but her very soul...

Absolutely fucking terrifying. Beginning like a clawing at the back of the skull thanks to excellent sound design and experimental, stripped down music, the film has an eye for detailed staging which makes the Midwest look stark, bleak, empty and nightmarish. It's like listening to Bruce Springsteen's "Nebraska" - a quaint little place, homely yet peppered with a dusting of snow (this is a Christmas film!) and festering beneath with evil, like a rot, like peeling paint exposing a vile monstrous corruption. It slithers and snakes its way into your mind in a serpentine creep beneath your flesh, lingering on stunning and stark and frightening imagery throughout.
I cannot praise it enough. The classic police procedural detective story is the framework, and will easily draw comparisons to "Seven" and "Silence of the Lambs", well earned. About 40 minutes in I realised that I had cut off blood flow to my hand and thigh from gripping them absent mindedly.
The opening shots in a 4 by 3 aspect ratio are in the style of a projector slide of home movies, adding to the sinister "kitchen sink horror" they're aiming for. When Agent Harker explores a suburban street, the houses are reminiscent of churches... The strongest parts are the simple pieces of imagery: Harker looks up in the library from her studies, and there is nobody there; Harker spreads out her work on the floor to study it, and it is evocative of a summoning circle. Its setting is the early 90s, but even more timely now: the Satanic panic and dread of the Reagan years are in the rear view mirror and we're entering a hopeful new age, but that rot creeps back in, having lingered for new age: Harker sits in front of her supportive boss as he talks through their work, and the portrait of Bill Clinton lingers above him, leering down at them...
Its edits and transitions continue the serpentine, insidious comparisons and thematic emblems, whilst the staging and sets and shot composition will burn themselves into your brain (there's a reason that the poster is so striking, and is indeed in the film proper!) - check out the agents entering the barn, made up like a belly of a beast...
Refreshingly, the movie also has been keeping its trump card close to its chest. Maika Monroe is fantastic as always (want your horror movie to be good? Just put her in the lead. "It Follows" is one of my favourite movies of all time, "Watcher" was fabulous, "The Guest" fucking rules), but Nicolas Cage? Exceptional.
Granted I'm biased: the man is the greatest living actor. I've seen pushback to his performance, and without spoiling all I will say is:
You all loved Heath Ledger in "The Dark Knight".
He's an unhinged toxic, festering nightmare of a man, ghoulish pallid and corpse-like, certainly nothing to forget anytime soon.
I absolutely adored this movie, and unusually for a horror movie it pulls it out of the bag and goes stratospheric with its ending: a soaring, terrifyingly ambiguous, all too fitting coda to this horrible dream.
Fuck. Yes.

"Maxxxine" - Review

Six years after a massacre at a farm killing best girl and leaving her the only survivor, Maxine Minx (Mia Goth), is attempting to break out of the pornographic film industry and make it into mainstream fare. She has landed a leading role in horror movie "Puritan II" directed by visionary English director Elizabeth Bender (Elizabeth Debicki, always welcome), has a supportive agent in Teddy Knight (Giancarlo Esposito) and seems to be making the best of what life has given her, not settling for a life she does not deserve. But when a private investigator named John Labat (Kevin Bacon) comes sniffing around, upturning her life and making insinuations, things start to go South. And all of this falls against the backdrop of a Puritanical push against pornography and horror, the killing spree of The Night Stalker, and 80s excess...

"X" was a fantastic surprise and homage to horror films gone by, and Hollywood finally learned what I have known and been proselytising since the late 2000s: Ti West is great. It got more people (my partner included) to know who the hell he is ("Innkeepers" is good, "The Sacrament" fantastic, his sequel to "Cabin Fever" far outdoes the original film, and "House of the Devil" is an absolute fucking barnburner and easily his best work) and "Pearl", whilst weaker than "X" in my eyes, is a strong companion piece and ode to envy and the Hollywood Golden era. This movie attempts to mash the two together: the strong character work of "Pearl", the horror and sex of "X" and the Hollywood blending of both.
There are some amazing shots to this effect: the most striking image is of Kevin Bacon in a nightclub chasing after Maxine, lights flashing chaotically and brightly, like things are shot in slower shutter speed and a nightmarish vision of the sequence in "Fright Night". The opening manages to contrast what people THINK the 80s was with the grimy nastiness and terrible parts it actually was. The house from "Psycho" is used for a sequence, and Debicki drolly remarks that "they made a sequel, can you believe that?". Hah.
Bacon's character is dressed as Jack Nicholson from "Chinatown" and honestly steals the show, relishing the part and chewing both dialogue and scenery. Many of the supporting cast have similar fun: Lily Collins gets a scene as a working class Yorkshire girl actress who cannot even be bothered to remember her co-star's name, Bobby Cannavale and Michelle Monaghan have literal buddy cop adventures on the trail of the Night Stalker, and Giancarlo Esposito is refreshingly against type as "Teddy Knight: Hollywood Super Agent". The cast have fun with these parts.
But the film struggles with what it wants to say and be about. It has fun gore effects (an alleyway castration is particularly fine) and its reach attempts to juggle the censorship and hypocrisy of "Christian Values" and the links drawn between the worship of sex, violence and cinema, but it loses its core identity in the shuffle and struggle. Is it about Maxine getting her big break? Is it about fame corrupting? Is it about a woman trying to run from her past? Well the last act gives us some answer where it devolves into "No, it's about a scenery chewing serial killer (sorely missed honestly untilt his point, and yet rather out of place) trying to murder our lead". The film kills off several important characters off screen, seemingly in a "let's get this over with" drive, and tries to recapture the delirium of "Pearl" towards the end. I didn't dislike the film on the whole, but it is certainly the weakest of the trilogy. It will likely get some love from the "You Go Girl, Slay Queen" fandom, and may even drive people to the kinds of movies he clearly loved and attempts to evoke. But the entire exercise feels more akin to a tour through a video shop than a coherent, driven, passionate film. We have hints and glimpses of ambitious greatness, but it focuses on the wrong parts, and whilst it is admirable to have gone in the direction it did, he could have had more fun and better luck and results by embracing the "Video Nasty" style or hitting the beats of "Slasher Movie in the Big City" and playing it straight.
Ironically, West has been embraced by Hollywood in a tale of its excesses, but lost some of the joys which made him great, though he gets some mileage out of his big stars in parts normally played by quirky character actors. He even gets to hint at it a little, with a much-obliged and delightful cameo appearence from Larry Fessenden as a security guard. I appreciate him as a film maker and see this doing well with a queer horror crowd, but would prefer a return to his stripped back affairs.

"Kill" - Review

Indian commando Amrit (Lakshya) and his best friend with a moustache Viresh (Abhishek Chauhan) are on a train to Delhi, alongside Amrit's secret new fiancee Tulika (Tanya Maiktala) and her family. Unfortunately, the train is boarded by an extended familu of boorish robbers led by Beni (Ashish Vidyarthi), and his sleazy nephew Fani (Raghav Juyal), and our sexy posing commando must battle through the confines of the train to save the day!

The simple description is "Bollywood The Raid", and honestly that concept/simple trailer (and the fact that it cuts straight to the quick by calling itself "Kill") was enough to get me on board. The fights have some of that brutal ferocity and confined mayhem of "The Raid", even if the editing is a little overtightened and the cuts a litle too fast in places, and the bloodwork is satisfying. There are some good kills and a particularly excellent fight involving the Moustache-Sporting Viresh on a bunk bed. All of it is filtered through the very "Extra" Bollywood lense, and an overdone melodramatic style, which honestly kind of works? The insanity and ever-escalting madness are punctuated by a soundtrack which features cocking of shotguns leading into dubstep, and the long, lingering shots of our handsome lead and his manly, bloody pecs are entertaining. It's swinging for the crowd seats with it all, never really reigning it in, and aiming for those emotional highs. Some work, some don't, but it is refreshingly sincere. It loses some momentum towards the end, especially after they gild the lily a little on the 2nd act twist, and whilst the bickering amongst the family does entertain at first, it is repeated too often. But despite the repetition (how many times are they going to capture Amrit and make demands? How many times does Viresh need to get stabbed in the same shoulder, whilst keeping that magnificent moustache squeaky clean?) the casual insanity on display makes this one of the most memorable movies of the year: our main character ends an entire fucking bloodline, and by the second act has become a slasher movie villain, and goes Super-Saiyan about 4 times. It's actually kind of incredible.
I want more visceral, gritty (to an extent, you can take the man out of Bollywood, but not the Bollywod out of the man) action movies like this. Not as good as "The Raid", but what is?

"The Watchers" - Review

Mina (Dakota Fanning), an American living in Ireland and working in a pet shop whilst hiding from her past, is tasked to deliver a parrot across the country. Along the way, she ends up lost in woods not on any map, and is forced to take refuge in a glass walled bunker alongside old professor Madeline (Olwen Fouere), nice English lady Ciara (Georgina Campbell, watch "Barbarian") and Irish scamp Daniel. Every night, something watches them, they don't know what, and it won't let them leave the woods...

Alright, here we go.
It's competently shot, nothing too spectacular or groundbreaking, and the imagery of the pet shop, glass and tanks (and the parrot too come to think of it) is all consistent enough without being overdone or out of place. It feels like a first feature, but none too shabby, there's polish here. I always am happy to see Georgina Campbell, and Dakota Fanning does well, I'm happy she's doing well.
Unfortunately I was completely checked out and bored by the whole affair. The atmosphere is never present, aided in no small part by a script which encourages obfuscation and vagueness on the part of the actors for no other reason than a forced drive for "Mystery" and "Mystique". The central casualties are not just the horror and atmosphere, but the mystery itself: there's no dread or build up or surprise to the revelation you know is coming, it's exactly who you think it is, and it is explained to death, yet with no point of reference or baseline to hold against the bizarre behaviour of the people in the bunker. The 3rd act entirely shits the bed, moving out of the woods and with more of the movie still to come: its entire 3rd act is relitigating, re-explaining and repeating a dull twist, which does nothing to recontextualise, and instead aims for a more fairy tale ending which falls flat.
Frustrating, but a companion piece to her father's work. I am curious as to how much of it comes down to the novel it is based on, and how much is the film making itself.

"The Bikeriders" - Review

The rise and fall of the Vandals motorcycle club is told by Kathy (Jodie Comer) to a photographer and aspiring journalist Danny (Mike Faist, always welcome), chronicling their beginnings under founder and leader Johnnie (Tom Hardy), her meeting with hotheaded Benny (Austin Butler) and the path the Vandals took from the 60s into the 70s...

I like Jeff Nichols as a filmmaker, and have missed him. He tends to have a good eye for the great American Fairy Tale, much with "Mud" and "Midnight Special" (the latter an incredibly underrated road movie), and recapturing older genres less glamorous and mainstream than the ones usually marketed and hyped. Here is a period piece rise and fall which does pretty much what you expect it to do from the trailers, with the added and welcome narrative device of Faist and Comer in their interviews, the two pulling it off well and it adding some spice to the movie. It tackles the mythology and fantasy of Biker Gang iconography, and is carried by its central performances: Hardy is always good, here with his tough guy swagger and posturing, but also playing the character as having watched one too many Marlon Brando movies and trying to imitate that cool as a family man (a welcome twist on the tale and adding some much needed humanity), it's a part he can play in his sleep. Butler is good too. But the movie belongs to Comer: she's the star of it, despite the trailers skewing the marketing to the more "lads friendly" Butler and Hardy, and she's great in this. Really good even. The supporting parts are aided by some memorable and lovable character actors: Nichols stalwart Michael Shannon plays "Zipco", the enigmatic weirdo who hates "Pinkos"; Boyd Holbrook is the laid back "Cal", who ends up in a fun little arc with the scary California newcomer Sonny (Norman Reedus) and Beau Knapp pops up too! Plus it's a Jeff Nichols movie, so I was waiting for the Paul Sparks cameo and it's good!
It does what it says on the tin, and has some nice attention to detail with the period pieces, costume design and props, and the photography is as pretty as ever (I prefer "Midnight Special", but hey ho! Not the movie's fault - very different beasts!). It's carried by the performances, and if you think you'd like it from the trailer, you probably will. The point when you know it's going to turn into darker territory could have been darker in my eyes, but I'm just a mean spirited bastard like that.
Yeah, it's good.
Plus, if that's your thing: Tom Hardy wrestles a man in mud, and he and Butler spend the entirety of the film in denim, leather or denim and leather.

"Arcadian" - Review

Something has happened. In the aftermath, a man named Paul (Nicolas Cage) lives on a farm, locking the doors securely during the day. He is aided by his two sons, the argumentative and rebellious Thomas (Maxwell Jenkins) and the more pensive, inward looking Joseph (Jaeden Martell), as they survive... something.

Bloody good actually.
There are few things which inspire more dread than "limited release Nicolas Cage movie" as, despite being the greatest and most talented actor alive (a statement I make with 100% sincerity), he has had a reputation of sorts: appearing in some true bottom of the barrel dreck in order to salvage it and make it memorable. Yet he'll keep putting out good or interesting or great movies in order to remind us why he's here. And the man has been on something of a tear of late: "Pig", "Renfield", "The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent", "Dream Scenario", "Prisoners of the Ghostland" and "Willy's Wonderland", and I'm extremely excited for "Longlegs".
Here, we get an oddly subdued Cage performace. He's all over what little marketing there is, but his Paul is reigned in. It works. The film is refreshingly well done in the age of modern horror: we have a stark, simple introduction with no dialogue, where Paul flees from... something, in a city going wrong, which we never truly see, only getting a pretty beautiful (in a twisted sort of way) shot of the skyline, as it burns, smoke billowing from its bowels, before Paul walks away.
It remains enigmatic, mysterious and more of a character piece as the three men grow and adapt to a world around them: Thomas wants to go forth and explore the neighbouring farm, with a budding and blossoming friendship with Charlotte (Sadie Soverall); whilst the always reliable Jaeden Martell's Thomas is concerned with keeping the farm together, following his father's rules, and learning about the apocalypse. Its 1st act is fantastic: it builds, slithers under the skin, leaves you wanting more, leaves you curious, it's talented film making. Good job director Benjamin Brewer, and writer Michael Nilon. When the "thing" arrives, and breaks through the sinister fog of the unknown, its momentum actually keeps going: there's a FANTASTIC scare with Jaeden Martell in the farmhouse which had me grinning from ear to ear from the edge of my seat, where I had inadvertantly perched my jaded and cynical arse. It gets wobbly in the 2nd act, when it tries to juggle twists and character drama, and writes out their best asset (Cage), sort of spinning its wheels and trying to figure out where it goes, before it evolves into an absolutely bananas 3rd Act far different to what has come before, which will be divisive. We've all been enjoying subtlty, mystery, and not quite knowing WHAT this is, or ever really learning what happened. But I feel that the monster design is so deranged and terrifying with its chattering jaws and walls of pulsating flesh and fur, that it manages. A hidden gem, I feel.

"Furiosa" - Review

In the not too distant future, the world has gone mad. Furiosa, a young girl in one of the last remaining green places, is kidnapped by raiders and brought to their leader Dementus (Chris Hemsworth). Refusing to tell him where her lands lie, she is raised as a warrior by the warlord until, as a young woman (Anya Taylor-Joy), her path crosses with warlords, warriors and the madness of all that comes with the end of time...

This had a lot to live up to, after the genuine masterpiece of mayhem, violence and kinetic lunacy that was "Fury Road". Oh great, a creative movie finally allowed to exist by a visionary director and his team, it seemed inevitable that the ghouls of Hollywood would demand a prequel to its breakout character.
So imagine that it's good.
Imagine that it's actually a "swing for the fences" piece of episodic, poetic lunacy more akin to the underappreciated "3,000 Years of Longing", made solely to cry out in rage at nobody having seen that movie. If you enjoy "3,000 Years of Longing" you'll enjoy this, George Miller adds lots of Jodorowsky to boot. Split into 5 chapters, the movie becomes less a conventional by-the-numbers prequel rags to riches tale, and instead is more an ensemble story about the world around Furiosa, the people within it, how these "societies" (as much as they are) work. It's a bold choice, and I have nothing but respect for it. The story zig-zags like a Tory minister, hopping from set piece to set piece, and keeping its revenge tale on the back burner: if you don't like one piece, there'll be something cool around the corner! It's unconventional, strange, wild, explosive and violent in equal measure. It lacks the stronger throughline of the impecable "Fury Road", but explores more of the ideas of narrative and expectations in its ending, and how stories change and evolve over time, it feels like a piss-take of the whole idea. Hemsworth makes for an excellent villain, and I want more of this kind of Hemsworth (related note: "Bad Times at the El Royale" is excellent), and somewhat refreshingly Anya Taylor-Joy is not actually present for a large chunk of the movie, she comes into it a lot later. She's good. Tom Burke leaves zero impact as Praetorian Jack, but they can't all be winners.
The action is incredbile, but less white knuckle that "Fury Road" due to its vignette nature, however they all work as little 3-Act action movies on their own, which is unique and cool and simply great film making. The cinematography, as expected, rules, and the score is markedly, refreshingly different to "Fury Road".
It's unexpected and fun.
Oh, and Charlee Fraser from "Anyone But You" is Furiosa's mother! You go, girl!
Angus Simpson is back, hell yes.

"The Fall Guy" - Review

Stuntman Colt Sedars (Ryan Gosling) drops out of the industry after a particularly nasty accident. He seems content to be parking cars and living a quiet life until producer Gail (Hannah Waddingham) tricks him into coming back to help his old flame and true love Jody Moreno (Emily Blunt) with her movie. It's Jody's first time directing and whilst she's annoyed to see Colt, her leading man Tom Ryder (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) has gone missing. To save the project and prospects of the love of his life, and maybe win her back, Colt embarks on a quest to uncover the missing action star, getting into all sorts of hi-jinks in the process...

The trailer is a touch misleading. Marketed as another action film from the guy who made "Bullet Train" (which is good clean fun), this is actually closer to the Burt Reynolds movies of the 1970s: throw a bit of everything into a blender, hit "pureee" and slather it over a love story. The framework is a sort of wacky, rekindled old flame romance which Gosling and Blunt could play in their sleep. It's honestly a kind of charming throwback in that regard, something we genuinely don't get anymore, though the latter half leans a lot more into the action movie almost like methadone to wean viewers into it. The action scenes are good, the pace bounces along rather nicely, and Stephanie Hsu has a cameo and is always welcome. Plus Winston Duke is good in this.

"Sting" - Review

Rebellious artistic girl Charlotte (Alyla Brown, on something of a tear this year) lives in a run down, terrible block of flats run by a slumlady. She struggles with new stepfather Ethan (Ryan Corr, looking like Kim Coates), an overworked man trying his best, especially since he and his new wife Heather (Penelope Mitchell) have a new baby. But soon Charlotte makes a friend: Sting! A teensy tiny spider she keeps in a jar, who seems a lot smarter than other spiders!

An old school creature feature, wrapped snugly in the blanket of a rather endearing family drama with characters we actually root for. In maybe the first 30 seconds you know the makers (Australian Kiaho Roache-Turner, because of course they're Australian) are aiming for 50s pulpy tone with its talk of "meteor showers" and the like; and honestly they kind of nail it. I've missed old-school monster movies, and this one plays itself to the hilt in that genre: the characters are fun, Ethan's arc as a frustrated, exhausted and put upon artist is particularly good and makes him especially endearing. You genuinely root for these guys.
Special shoutout to Jermaine Fowler, who is a particular standout as an amusing pest controller and exterminator.
When the chaos and the murder kick off, it's all in good fun. I don't have a fear of spiders, so this will likely affect arachnaphobes more than myself. That being said, it's all effective and, at times, gory and delicious stuff. The movie does not seek to set the world ablaze, because it doesn't have to.