With cinemas now open this column will review films both screening theatrically and/or on various streaming platforms.
Those Who Wish Me Dead (15)
Having written Sicario, Hell or High Water, Wind River and, most recently, Tom Clancy’s Without Remorse, Taylor Sheridan is behind the camera this time round for Michael Koryta’s adaption of his own novel, a frankly overly melodramatic thriller in which, having murdered his forensic accountant father after he uncovers high level government corruption, a couple of sociopathic hitmen (Aidan Gillen, Nicholas Hoult), first seen posing as electric company inspectors to murder a Florida district attorney and casually blow up her house, set fire to a Montana forest to tidy up loose ends and provide a distraction from their killings when the victim’s adolescent son, Connor (Finn Little), escapes clutching his dad’s evidence. Fortunately, the first person the kid stumbles on is Hannah (Angelina Jolie), a smokejumper whose been transferred to a remote outpost after being traumatised in a recent blaze. He needs someone to protect him, she needs to atone for the young lives she was unable to save in the aforementioned incident.
And that’s pretty much all there is to it. Taking refuge in a watchtower, the pair are tracked down by the assassins, who have taken captive Hannah’s ex, Ethan (Jon Bernthal), the local deputy, whose pregnant wife Allison (Medina Senghore) manages to see the killers off and sets off to to find hubby armed with a shotgun.
Hoult and, especially Gillen go about their bloody work with cold detachment, piling up the bodies with abandonment, the latter so fixated on his completing the job that he pays almost no regard to the fact the side of his face has been seared to a crisp when Allison struck back.
Characterisation is never more than one dimensional and the cat and mouse narrative plays out with increasing implausibility, but Jolie, in her first action role in years, is solid as the loose cannon who may be harbouring a death wish, Connor is remarkably resilient for a kid whose just seen his dad riddled with bullets and everyone else, including brief cameo by Tyler Perry’s as the hitmen’s boss, does what the script requires of them. Sheridan uses the Montana wilderness to full effect and the scenes of the fires sweeping towards out fleeing heroes are genuinely thrilling, just as he also keeps the tension at a white knuckle level. Lean and efficient, it’s firmly old school 90s action movie fodder and none the worse for that. (Cineworld 5 Ways, NEC; Empire Great Park; Odeon Birmingham, Broadway Plaza Luxe; Reel; Vue)
My New York Year (15)
Released in America under the more specific title of My Salinger Year, this is Canadian director Philippe Falardeau’s adaptation of the memoir of the same title by Joanna Rakoff a 23-year old aspiring writer, who, in 1995, spent twelve months as an intern for one of New York’s oldest literary agencies with a past and present client list that include Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Thomas, Christie and famous recluse, Catcher In The Rye author J.D. Salinger.
Deciding not to return home to her musician boyfriend, pretending she can type Rakoff (Margaret Qualley) goes for an interview as assistant to Margaret (Weaver), the brusque no nonsense agency boss with a disdain for modern devices like computers and email, and, not mentioning her literary aspirations (“writers make the worst assistants”, declares Margaret), is put to work reading all the fan mail sent to Salinger (who she’s never read) or Jerry as the agency refers to him, a process instituted in the wake of John Lennon’s killer Mark David Chapman claiming to have modelled his life on Catcher In The Rye protagonist Holden Caulfield, sending back a standard response (Salinger stopped reading such mail in 1965) and then shredding them.
Initially crashing with a friend (Seána Kerslake), Joanna eventually hooks up with Norman Mailer fan and wannabee writer Don (Douglas Booth) and they move into a run down apartment together (though he insists it’s her name on the lease) and, as the time goes by, gets to speak to Salinger on the phone (who turns out to be a friendly chap) and, when the agency learns he’s planning on republishing an old New Yorker article with a small one-man operation publishing press, is despatched to vet its owner and stress the importance of not letting the media know.
There’s a nice touch of Joanna imaging the assorted correspondents reading their letters to camera, which at one point leads to an award moment when she takes it upon herself to reply as herself, which works much better than the pointless romantic dream sequence of her and her old boyfriend dancing in the lobby of the Waldorf Astoria along with the doormen and guests.
Qualley is good as the naïve, eager to please Joanna, even if she never gives the impression of a best-selling author in waiting, but she’s wholly overshadowed by Weaver who, with her inherent patrician demeanour, is the film’s heart as the prickly, contradictory finger-snapping Margaret who can be pragmatically unsentimental, as seen when her approach sends valued client Judy Blume off to seek another agent, but also unexpectedly compassionate.
There’s a solid support cast too that includes Brían F. O’Byrne and Colm Feore in subtly written roles, and, while it’s ultimately a little too polite and well-mannered for its own good, makes for some enjoyably light movie reading. (Cineworld 5 Ways, NEC; Vue)
Peter Rabbit 2: The Runaway (PG)
There’s a curious case of having your cake and eating it to this sequel based around the Beatrix Potter characters in that, now married to McGregor (Domhnall Gleeson wildly overacting), Bea (Rose Byrne) is approached by a smooth-talking major publisher, Nigel Basil-Jones (David Oyelowo), who wants to bring her stories to a wider audience, but to do so would mean departing from their simple innocence, such as having them wear t-shirts, going surfing or even into outer space. Bea is seduced by the idea, especially after he gives her a snazzy car, but McGregor feels this is betraying her principles and the characters, which, of course, are based on the animals on and around the farm where they live.
And yet the film itself seeks to do the very same thing for the same reasons, exaggerating it all into a frantic caper movie based, rather obviously, on Oliver Twist (in case you miss it, Rose starts reading Charles Dickens). In his game plan, the publisher wants to give the various characters defined personalities, with Peter (James Corden) being cast as the Bad Seed (with, self-referential joke, an annoying voice), reinforcing his feeling that, despite a tentative peace between him and McGregor, he’s always getting blamed for everything by McGregor, even when he’s not bene up to mischief. So, when everyone troops off to Gloucester (and if you think this means introducing Potter’s The Tailor of Gloucester into the plot, pat yourself on the back), he takes off my himself and runs into Barnabas (Lennie James), an old friend of his father’s who’s stealing fruit from the market and invites him to become part of his gang. So, deciding that if he’s always going to be seen as the villain of the piece, then he might as well be, Peter joins up with Barnabas’s crew, including masterplanner Samuel Whiskers and rough and ready felines Tom Kitten and Mittens (Hayley Attwell).
After showing Peter the ropes in how to get yourself adopted by humans so you can raid their food cupboard, Barnabas announces his big plan is to steal the dried fruit from Gloucester’s weekly market, persuading Peter to rope in all his friends, Flopsy (Margot Robbie) and Mopsy (Elizabeth Debicki), Cottontail (Aimee Horne), Mrs Tiggy-Winkle (Sia), Jemima Puddle-Duck (Byrne), Pigling Bland (Ewen Leslie), Mr. Jeremy Fisher (Gleeson), Tommy Brock (Sam Neill) and even Felix D’eer (Christian Gazel), to help pull it off.
Throwing in assorted amusing moments along the way (Cottontail having his first sugar high on jelly beans – or the hard stuff a Whiskers calls them), McGregor rolling down the hill, the old gag about standing on each other’s shoulders in a raincoat to pass off as one person, D’eer on a parachute) as well as a car chase, it naturally spins a message about family, friendship, being true to yourself and judging others by your preconceptions of them as it heads towards its rather rushed big finish (Bea, Peter and McGregor having to rescue the others from their assorted fates after being sold on by the local pet shop). McGregor even discovers Peter can talk.
While doing an equally good job of integrating the CGI animals alongside the actors, it lacks the charm and sweetness of Paddington and, like the books Basil-Jones wants to publish has very little in common with Potter’s stories, but the slapstick should keep the youngsters happy enough and, it has to be said, it does have a very clever spin on the obligatory lavatory gag. (Cineworld 5 Ways, NEC; Empire Great Park; Everyman; Odeon Birmingham, Broadway Plaza Luxe, West Brom; Reel; Vue)
Spiral: From The Book of Saw (18)
Just because it has a more luminous cast list, headed up by Chris Rock and Samuel L Jackson, who must have been at a loose end for the few hours his role must have taken, this doesn’t make the latest instalment in the creaky torture porn franchise any better than its predecessors.
While Jigsaw was consigned to history following the 2017 reboot, there’s now a copycat (with a new insignia) at work, this time targeting not those who take life for granted, but corrupt cops, starting off with one being lured into the subway, knocked out by a figure in a pig mask and waking up to find themselves suspended over a subway track, the only way to avoid death being to rip out their own tongue which has been clamped by a fiendish trap. Much to the special effects dept’s joy, he doesn’t make it, so when Detective Zeke Banks (Rock) arrives on the scene with William Schenk (Max Minghella), the new rookie detective partner he’s been reluctantly assigned after going maverick one time too many, there’s a suitably gory array of dismembered body parts littering the scene. It turns out the dead man was Bank’s only friend on the force (he’s not the precinct’s favourite as he once turned in a corrupt fellow officer).
Starting with the tongue and a badge (the victim apparently regularly lied on the witness stand), before long various other gift-wrapped appendages start arriving at Banks’ desk, as Darren Lynn Bousman (who directed Saws II – IV) wades through a further series of ingenious tortures (including one cop lacerated by a spray of shards from broken bottles) as the plot navigates its way through assorted red herrings, misdirections, flashbacks with Jackson turning up as Banks’s former police Captain father, Marcus, who once ran the department and possibly has his own skeleton in the closet.
While for the most part Rock plays it straight (or at least as straight as something like this can warrant), he still can’t resist indulging in his familiar and increasingly tired in your face shouty humour, making it a toss up as which is more torture, his performance or the traps. The screenplay makes a vague stab at Zeke’s daddy issues, but it’s not overly interested in digging much beyond the basically dick measuring surface of the father-son relationship while reviews that claim a searing post George-Floyd zeitgeist political element must have surely been watching different film. Saw it may be, but cutting edge it isn’t. (Cineworld 5 Ways, NEC; Empire Great Park; Everyman; Odeon Birmingham, Broadway Plaza Luxe; Reel; Vue)
The Unholy (15)
Loosely based on James Herbert’s 1983 novel Shrine, writer-director Evan Spiliotopoulos turns in a functional and forgettable contribution to the theological horror genre with taking Jeffrey Dean Morgan as disgraced journalist Gerry with a reputation for fabricating sensationalistic supernatural stories looking to find something that will put him back on top. This presents itself in a Banfield, small New England farming community where he encounters Alice (Cricket Brown), a hearing-impaired girl who appears in front of his car like some sort of ghost, who claims she’s been visited by the Virgin Mary, enabling her to now hear and speak and cure the sick.
Par for the course, religious hysteria sets in with various characters looking to exploit her for their own ends, from lapsed Catholic Gerry to the local bishop (Cary Elwes) and, as the opening sequences reveal, when, in 1845, another Mary is burned alive for being in league with Satan, and then Gerry finds and crushes a kerb baby talismanic doll he found in the base of the tree where her body was hung, Alice’s Mary is from hell rather than heaven.
Spiliotopoulos brings nothing new to this well-worn territory and, with his jump cuts and overblown score, proves a workmanlike director at best, with even the hooded, masked demon, all jagged jerky movements, coming across like a poor version of the fiend from Ring. Morgan, who has the air of a man in a daze, walks through things as best he can, but everyone around him, especially Brown and Katie Aselton as the local doctor, are even more ill-served by the ropey screenplay that includes Father Hagan, one of the church priests, apparently hanging himself after conveniently discovering an old notebook detailing the earlier Mary. An Unholy mess all round. (Cineworld 5 Ways, NEC; Empire Great Park; Odeon Birmingham, Broadway Plaza Luxe; Reel; Vue)
The Woman In The Window (15)
He may have directed Atonement, Hanna, Pride and Prejudice and Darkest Hour, but Joe Wright is clearly slumming it here with this potboiler Rear Window knockoff adapted from the airport paperback of the title. For reasons not explained in all their tragic detail until much later, child therapist Anna Fox (Amy Adams) is separated from her husband (Anthony Mackie) who has custody of their daughter, and has become agoraphobic, unable to leave her sprawling Manhattan house where, when not having sessions with a visiting shrink (screenwriter Tracy Letts) and apparently continuing her practice though we never see any evidence of that, she spends her time staring out the window.
When new neighbours the Russells move in, the teenage son, Ethan (Fred Hechinger), comes across to bring a gift from his mom and Anna’s instincts tell her there’s something troubling him. Well, that’ll be his strict and bullying father Alistair (Gary Oldman in a glaringly bad blonde wig), who gives her a verbal barrage about her inappropriate relationship with his son. The next night, the victim of an egg-splattering attack by Halloween kids, she’s saved by Ethan’s mother Jane (Julianne Moore, stealing the film in her brief cameo) and the pair bond over a few glasses of wine. Not long after, peering into the Russells’ bedroom with her camera, she sees Jane being murdered by Alistair. The cops are duly summoned, but there’s no body and the detective (Brian Tyree Henry) put it down to hallucinations caused by her medication. And drinking at the same time. Plus, there’s the fact that Russell brings along his wife, who, accusing her of being a voyeur, is very much alive, except (played by Jennifer Jason Leigh) this isn’t the woman she met earlier, and Ethan insists she’s never met his mother before.
So from Rear Window we move into Gaslight territory as Anna starts to believe she really is going crazy, until, that is, she finds evidence that the other Jane existed (a reflection in a photo of a wine glass, an earring by the bed of David (Wyatt Russell) her creepy ex-con lodger in the basement.
Assuming her flat performance is intentional, Adams does a decent job of capturing Anna’s mental state, but even this – and an unexpected car crash into her living room – can’t inject life into a film riddled with holes and contrivance, not to mention a history of reshoots, poor test screenings and the revelations about the novel’s author’s alleged sociopathic behaviours, that rather than being a nailbiter is ploddingly pedestrian with a climax that seems likely to be drowned out with hoots of derision. (Netflix)
As any amateur palaeontologist knows, ammonites are whorl-shaped marine mollusc fossils which, when cleaned up and the accumulated grime of centuries removed, reveal their true aesthetic beauty and the depth within the. No prizes then for guessing that they serve as a not too subtle metaphor for this 19th-Century tale of personal and sexual awakening as a young woman trapped in a sterile marriage comes back to life and stirs the fire within an older, dour woman when she’s dumped in Lyme Regis to recover her health after the loss of a child.
Essentially, The Dig but with a heavy dose of lesbian sex, it’s loosely based on the life of noted working class fossil collector Mary Anning (Kate Winslet) and her relationship with Charlotte Murchison (Saoirse Ronan), although it should be noted from the start that there’s no historical evidence for any sexual shenanigans between them, although taking dramatic liberties to swiftly remove Charlotte’s dull aspiring palaeontologist husband( James McArdle), from the scene does provide an excuse for the much publicised and steamily explicit naked bedroom scene between the two actresses.
It is, however, some time in coming as director Francis Lee (whose previous film, God’s Own Country, was also a queer love story, between two men) slowly builds things from Mary’s initial reluctance, agreeing to teach the mouse-like Charlotte the fundamental fossil hunting skills the urging of her mother (Gemma Jones who comes with a sad backstory of her own embodied in the china dog figurines she polishes every night) to earn a few bob to supplement her fossil sales and then taking her in and giving up her bedroom at the recommendation of the doctor (Alec Secareanu) when she falls ill. The friendship gradually blossoms (as the hitherto stone-faced, brittle and joyless Anning, as grey as the winter skies, gradually softens under the initially petulant Charlotte’s influence) and then a passionate secret romance flares, set against the backdrop of the era’s suffocating restraint, And, of course, the patriarchal elitist boys’ club climate that would not afford Mary the same standing as her male colleagues. Indeed, the film opens the skull of an ichthyosaur being put on view in the British Museum, credited to the man who donated it, not the woman who discovered it.
The cinematography makes the most of the stunning landscape with its coast line and rugged cliffs as well as the contrastive, candlelit scenes with Mary’s cramped small house (more visual metaphors then) while, be it in the verbal exchanges or the unspoken looks, Winslet and Ronan give possibly their finest performances, ably supported by Fiona Shaw as Elizabeth Philpot who makes herbal salves and with whom it is clear Mary had an earlier affair that ended badly and who causes her discomfort when she clearly takes a shine to the more sophisticated Charlotte.
The later scenes set after Charlotte has to return to London are equally potent in what they say about the two women (who were actually firm real life friends) and, dramatic liberties notwithstanding, like the fossil, the more layers are uncovered, the greater the exposed film becomes. (Amazon Prime, CHILI, Google Play, iTunes Rakuten TV, Sky Store, TalkTalk TV, Virgin Movies)
The film opens on a Louisiana cotton plantation that’s been commandeered by Confederate forces ,and is overseen by Capt. Jasper (Jack Huston) whose sadistic brutal nature is swiftly established by executing a female slave who attempts to flee, her body taken the crematorium. Into this set up comes Eden (Janelle Monáe) who, when she refuses to give her name is branded by her Confederate General owner (Eric Lange) , who keeps her as his sex slave, a function all the women are expected to provide to the soldiers. Despite the danger (“speaking without permission can be punished by beatings), she defiantly devises strategies by which she can meet and communicate with fellow slaves such as Eli (Tongayi Chirisa), and new arrival (Kiersey Clemons), named Julia by the general’s haughty daughter (Jenna Malone)
So far so 12 Years A Slave, but then suddenly a ringing phone wakes her and she’s no longer Eden but Veronica Henley, a hugely successful PhD sociologist and author with a husband and button cute young daughter, who delivers speeches about empowerment. So, is her plantation life a race memory from her ancestors, a nightmare metaphor about the continuing oppression of Black Americans (the film titles quote Faulkner’s “The past is never dead. It’s not even past”). Indeed, Elizabeth from the plantation is also the wealthy Elizabeth here, and clearly not to be trusted and, while in Louisiana for her book tour, following a night with her relationship guru bestie Dawn (Gabourey Sidibe), she gets into what she assumes to be her uber. My who’s that in the back, is that Jasper! And so, we’re suddenly back in the plantation for a bloody final confrontation.
First time directors Gerard Bush and Christopher Renz are clearly trying to follow in the footsteps of Jordan Peele’s brilliant horror Get Out, but the twist here is a direct crib from M Night Shyamalan’s The Village with an added timeline misdirection, but with even less plausibility regarding how it was all carried off. (Sky)
Making his transition from art department to writer-director, Britain’s Gavin Rothery delivers an impressive debut with this sci-fi AI thriller. Somewhere in the remote Japanese countryside, George Almore (Theo James) works alone in a “mothballed facility”, keeping from his micromanaging boss (Rhona Mitra) his progress in developing robots with their own intelligence.
His first prototype, J-1, which he does show her, is a clunky affair, but the second, J-2, is smaller, sleeker and can talk, think and apparently even dream. He is, however, working on a third, more refined model, J-3. that, while currently minus legs, has a woman’s shape.
In the facility is a big black box, a technological development known as the archive which can store the consciousness of those who have died, the living able to communicate with them by phone and a video link, the dead unaware that they are, until the archive, which is analog not digital, eventually expires. The archive in the facility contains the ‘soul’, if you will of George’s wife Jules (Stacy Martin, who also voices J-2) who died in a tragic accident. He’s working on his new project so he can transfer her mind, matters complicated by J-2’s obvious jealousy at the attention being given elsewhere, and, more so, when he finally completes the pilot model (Martin again) with whom he interacts and who is less than keen on giving up her new life to make way for his wife.
With Toby Jones also among the cast, there’s touches of Frankenstein, Solaris, Moon (on which Rothery worked) and Ex-Machina, as it muses on mortality and the nature of identity, but if it doesn’t break new ground it is, nevertheless, a very individual and intellectual piece of work that comes with a totally unexpected third act twist that catches you completely off-guard. (Amazon Prime, CHILI, Google Play, iTunes, Rakuten, Sky Store, TalkTalk TV, Virgin Movies)
Barb and Star Go To Vista Del Mar (12)
Slight, silly but kinda sweet, Bridesmaids co-writers Kristen Wiig and Annie Mumolo reteam for female buddy romcom with a dash of revenge-bent villain adventure. Respectively widowed and divorced, Barb (Mumolo) and Star (Wiig) live in smalltown Nebraska where they share a house and work at a home furnishing store where they regularly sit on a display sofa to swap banalities, the highlight of their social week being the ladies-only Talking Club overseen by the controlling Debbie (Vanessa Bayer).
However, when they learn the store if shutting own, they decide to take up a friend’s suggestion to book a Florida vacation at Vista Del Mar where, after first finding their dream hotel (where guests are welcomed with a song and dance number) isn’t actually where they’re staying, they do eventually wind up there. Here they meet the handsome but somewhat dim Edgar (Jamie Dornan), the besotted henchman to master criminal Sharon Gordon Fisherman (Wiig), a white-clad albino with a razor-cut bob who, assisted by Yoyo (Reyn Doi), plans to unleash lethal mosquitoes on the resort in revenge for being humiliated at a local pageant contest as a teenager.
She’s despatched Edgar to Via Del Mar with the transmitter that will attract the insects, along with bumbling spy Darlie Bunkle (Damon Wayans Jr.) when he loses the first one. However, his affections for Fisherman never reciprocated, when he meets Star he realises she’s the one with whom he wants to be an “official couple”, and they embark on a clandestine relationship, causing a rift in the two women’s friendship. However, his boss has no intention of letting her plan fail.
Decked out in garish colours, it’s all played with zany cartoon-type knockabout and punctuated by two cheesy musical interludes not to mention culottes, a talking crab and a couple of alligators and, while the dizzy banter can become tiresome and the jokes groaningly dumb, there’s enough zing in Wiig and Mumolo’s performances and Dornan’s gleeful self-spoofing to warrant chuckles. (Amazon Prime, Google Play, iTunes, Rakuten, Sky Store TalkTalk TV, Virgin Movies)
Beast Beast (15)
The title comes from a repeated chant used as a warm up for improvisational exercises, at the end of which the drama students all yell and briefly release their inner beast. And, essentially, that’s what writer-director Danny Madden’s debut explores as it turns the camera on the lives of three characters. There’s Krista (Shirley Chen), the outgoing star of her drama class and the popular girl at her Georgia school. Then there’s new boy in town, minor YouTube skate sensation Nito (Jose Angeles) she meets on his first day in school, something of a loner with a less than happy home-life who takes an instant liking to her, leading to a sweet if doomed romance. And finally, there’s Adam (Will Madden), Krista’s neighbour, a 24-year-old gun enthusiast graduate who still lives with his demanding parents and has his own (highly unsuccessful) YouTube channel devoted to gun safety, hunting, and the like. Following classic tropes, introducing a gun in the first act will inevitably lead to it going off in the third.
Fleshing out the cast are Yoni (Daniel Rashid), hair trigger single mother Lena (Anissa Matlock) and Jarrett (Stephen Ruffin), three screw-ups who all live in Nico’s apartment block and with whom he starts to hang out, with ultimately dark consequences.
A drama about self-worth, the need to feel special and growing up, some quicker and some later than others, and how everything has consequences, regardless of good intentions, that turns the spotlight on gun control in a muted but devastating manner without the need to deliver soapbox messages, even if the climax does shift the film into more neo-thriller territory as all three achieve a notoriety in ways they never anticipated. (Amazon Prime, CHILI, Google Play, iTunes Rakuten TV, Sky Store, TalkTalk TV, Virgin Movies)
The Broken Hearts Gallery (12)
It may be a sort of Sundance-lite predictable girly romcom, but, the feature debut by writer-director Natalie Krinsky, this is nevertheless a hugely enjoyable, at times disarmingly poignant little gem, sprinkled with some delightful banter and founded on a hugely endearing and likeable turn from Australian-Asian Bad Education star Geraldine Viswanathan.
She plays Lucy, a quirky 26-year-old New York art gallery assistant whose love life has been marked by a series of break-ups, from each of which she has kept a memento to remind her of her ex, anything from old shoelaces and a pink rubber piggy bank plastic toy to even a used condom. There’s also a Monopoly thimble, although the significance behind this is kept back until much later in a particularly moving moment.
The narrative gets under way following her latest disaster which saw her being dumped by wealthy upscale two timing gallery worker Max (Utkarsh Ambudkar), and, as a direct consequence, being fired from her job at the prestigious gallery run by celebrity art dealer Eva Woolf (Bernadette Peters). All of this she drunkenly relates to Nick (Dacre Montgomery), into whose car she’s climbed thinking he’s her Uber driver.
It’s followed by a second meet cute as he intercedes as bustles her out of a café as she’s about to cause a scene with Max and his reunited ex, and, naturally, thrown together by fate, their relationship grows from thereonin. Nick, it transpires, is transforming an old Brooklyn YMCA into a boutique hotel. “a place that feels like the spots I fell in love with when I first moved to New York” He’s not got much money to do this, a friend offering his services for free, as does Lucy, who, in turn, will be able to open her own ‘gallery’ in the lobby where, inspired by her own mementoes of lost relationships (kicking off with Max’s tie), people will donate their own bittersweet nostalgic keepsakes by way of closure.
Punctuated by a series of to-camera confessions from assorted donors (who all make a contribution for the gallery’s uptake), the novelty of the idea soon goes viral, making Lucy something of a celebrity herself, prompting Max’s rekindled interest. Meanwhile, she and Nick have a close platonic friendship that, as in all movies of this kind, is waiting for the moment they realise its something more, but the path to that epiphany is still a rocky one when Nick fails to secure a needed loan and Lucy meets Chloe, the woman after whom the hotel (Nick’s broken heart memento) is named.
In all of this, the film features several scenes involving Lucy’s Sex In The City-styled childhood best friends and roommates, lesbian Nadine (Phillipa Soo), and Amanda (Molly Gordon), a law student who lives with her hipster boyfriend (Nathan Dales) who never says a word until the film’s almost over, the chemistry and snarky repartee between the three girls sprinkled with Nora Ephron and Woody Allen stardust.
A film about letting go, of following your dreams and looking to the future rather than being weighed down by the past, yes it’s a frothy trifle, but that’s really something you need on the menu right now. (Amazon Prime, iTunes, Rakuten TV, Sky Store, TalkTalk TV, Virgin Media)
Chaos Walking (15)
Shot two years ago and finally limping on to the screen, directed by Doug Liman whose career peaked with 2014’s Edge Of Tomorrow, set in 2257, this casts Tom Holland as Todd, a teenager who’s grown up on an outer-space colony called New World where all the women were apparently massacred by the indigenous race and where the men are afflicted by something called Noise which (as depicted in swirly random colours), an energy manifests their thoughts in words and images. Some, like the colony’s mayor, David Prentiss (Mads Mikkelsen), looking like something from the old west, can control it, even use it as a weapon by projecting his thoughts, while others, like the town’s preacher, Aaron (David Oyelowo) are overwhelmed to the extent of madness, he believing Noise is only for the pure and others should be killed. Most though just try and rein it in as best they can.
Into this comes Viola (Daisy Ridley), a scout from Earth whose ship crashes killing everyone else on board. Todd is taken aback when he sees her (the first woman he’s ever seen) scavenging in the shed and chases after her. Suffice to say, they are thrown together when Prentiss determines to take her prisoner for his own ends, an obsession that will end badly for Todd’s surrogate fathers (Demián Bichir, Kurt Sutter), as the pair are told to flee to another colony on the planet where Viola will find the means to contact her mothership and which has a bitter enmity against Prentiss and his town. It’s also headed up by Harriet (Cynthia Erivo), one of the few other women on the planet (who do not have the Noise), as events build to a deadly showdown and a dramatic revelation regarding Prentiss and the massacred women.
It’s an interesting idea and the film has some thrilling action sequences such as a frantic horseback chase through the forest and down a hill, but, while inventive, the Noise effects are also often distracting and the toxic patriarchy background to New World, what happened there and Viola’s mission are never really made clear. Holland gives a suitably intense performance, even when he seems at times not to really fathom what’s going on, and Mikklesen makes for a dastardly villain, but Ridley never summons up much charisma or presence to engage you with her theoretically game changing role in the narrative. (Amazon Prime, CHILI, Google Play, iTunes Rakuten TV, Sky Store, TalkTalk TV, Virgin Movies)
Their first since the Avengers double-whammy, the Russo Brothers reunite with Spider-Man’s Tom Holland for a drama loosely based on a semi-autobiographical book by Nico Walker, which, through a series of chapters, charts his fall from a Jesuit university college student in Cleveland to a junkie bank robber by way of a stint in the Army, which he rashly signs up for after the love of his life Emily (Ciara Bravo) announces she’s breaking up with him and moving to Montreal. She doesn’t, but by which time it’s too late and they have an impulsive wedding before he’s shipped off to basic training to become a field medic, earning his titular nickname following his first bloody experience of the carnage out in Afghanistan.
Returning home after two years, he’s haunted by his memories of those who died, eventually turning to drugs to cope with his PTSD, she supporting him through his ordeals and, abandoned by the system, the pair becoming heroin addicts, fall into debt with a dodgy dealer named Pills & Coke (Jack Reynor), ultimately leading to a spate of inept bank robberies and back to where the film opens.
Affording a running commentary, Holland gives arguably his best screen performance yet, while, despite a somewhat undefined character, Bravo is unquestionably solid, the problem is that everything is pitched so high the film plays out a like a relentless barrage of highlights through a journey of a spiralling bad options, offering precious little relief and, while it might be amusing to have generic names like Shitty Bank, such heavy-handed satire undercuts the films more intensely serious tone, as does a decision to shoot a rectal exam from the rectum’s perspective. It doesn’t, ultimately, say anything about the after-effects of war that The Deerhunter didn’t say decades ago and takes almost two hours in the process (Apple TV)
The Columnist (15)
A smart Danish thriller satire on social media, Katja Herbers stars as single mother columnist Femke Boot whose writings, whether criticising the country’s blackface tradition or a piece about the joy of soft-boiled eggs, have earned her a book deal but also a constant stream of abuse on Twitter, which ramps up after a TV talk show appearance opposite crime writer Steven Death (Bram van der Kelen) arguing that people should just be nice and accept different opinions, ranging from a litany of four-letter insults to accusation of paedophilia.
Although sagely advised to just ignore them, particularly by Death (“It’s just the Internet – it’s not real”) who soon moves in as her faux goth boyfriend (and turns out to be a bit of a softie), Femke’s unable to resist exposing herself to the vitriol. And since the police won’t do anything, mild-mannered gives way to murderous rage and she decides to deal with the trolls themselves, tracking them down and disposing of them, starting with the next door neighbour who she calmly pushes off the roof and moving on to stabbings, stranglings and electrocution, taking the middle finger of each victim as a souvenir and storing them in a pack of peas in the fridge, without showing a hint of guilt. The murders also seem to help break though her writer’s block and meet the chapter deadlines she’s being set.
However, inevitably both her lover and her daughter Anna (Claire Porro, whose own ironic subplot about advocating free speech at her school principal’s protests inevitably draws her mother in), start noting something different about her, and perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to keep her bloody murder implements in a bag in the shed. Climaxing with her, dressed in a white suit, tracking down the troll who’s accused of her being a paedophile on the same day as her book launch, the film deftly balances horror and black comedy, keeping the splatter to a minimum and clearly guiding the viewer to sympathise with its homicidal maniac serial killer a la Deathwish. Revenge is tweet, after all. (Amazon Prime, CHILI, Google Play, iTunes Rakuten TV, Sky Store, TalkTalk TV, Virgin Movies)
Coming 2 America (12)
Thirty-two years after the hugely successful John Landis original and it’s almost exclusively Black cast and almost two decades on from the career catastrophic The Adventures of Pluto Nash, an on form Eddie Murphy resurrects his character of Prince Akeem (along with the other three roles he played under heavy makeup), now back in the kingdom of Zamunda and happily married to Lisa (Shari Headley) and with three feisty daughters, Meeka (KiKi Layne), Omma, real-life daughter Bella Murphy) and Tinashe (Akiley Love).
What he doesn’t have is a son and heir, since by law women cannot inherit the throne. However, prior to his death, Akeem’s father, King Joffer (James Earl Jones) reveals that he does, in fact, have a son, the bastard offspring resulting from a drugged sexual encounter engineered by Akeeem’s aide Semmi (Arsenio Hall also playing Witch Doctor Baba and two others) during that visit to Queens. And so, the pair duly return to America where they discover Lavelle (Jermaine Fowler), a street smart hustler living with his brash mother Mary (Leslie Jones as Lavelle) and his uncle Reem (Tracy Morgan), transporting mother and son back to Africa to groom Lavelle for his new role (including having to snip the whiskers off a lion). It’s a situation General Izzi (a wildly hamming Wesley Snipes), the warmongering leader of Nextdoria and brother of the woman (Vanessa Bell Calloway) Akeem declined to marry in the last movie and is still barking like a dog, is keen to exploit by marrying him off to his daughter Meeka (Kiki Layne). Much to the dismay of his wife and daughters, Akeem agrees. Lavelle, however, has fallen for royal groomer Mirembe (Nomzamo Mbatha), throwing up further complications and culminating in yet another trip back to Queens where Akeem’s reminded about following your heart..
With several other returning characters from the original along with a plethora of cameos playing themselves (among them Morgan Freeman, Salt N Pepa, John Legend and Gladys Knight) and assorted song and dance sequences, despite feeling the need for some unnecessary vulgarity, directed by Craig Brewer (who coaxed a towering performance from Murphy in Dolemite Is My Name), it may have largely dispensed with the originals theme of Black identity and dismantling stereotypes, this is funnier more often than not. Just not as often as it might have been. (Amazon Prime)
Concrete Cowboy (15)
Following yet another run in with the police and his Detroit school, rebellious 15-year-old Cole (Caleb McLaughlin) is sent by his exasperated mother (Liz Priestley) to spend the summer with his estranged ex-con father, Harp (Idris Elba) in of North Philadelphia. Needless to say neither is especially happy about it and Cole’s surprised to find his father shares his run-down apartment with a horse. Harp in fact heads up the Fletcher Street Stables, an inner city black community subculture dating back over 100 years which cares for rescue horses, breaking the wild ones and teaching youngsters to ride. At which point, Cole assigned to cleaning out the shit from the stables, you really are looking the tough love father-son gift horse in the metaphorical mouth.
Taken under the wing of his father’s Stetson-wearing neighbour, Nessi (Lorraine Toussaint), and with a romantic interest provided by fellow stables worker Esha (Ivannah Mercedes), despite his father’s orders, Cole continues to hang out with Smush (Jharrel Jerome,), a childhood cousin who’s now’s part of the local drug-dealing network. You don’t need blinkers to see where that’s heading. And then there’s the threat to the neighbourhood by property develops who wants to raze the stables to the ground.
Based around the young adult novel Ghetto Cowboy , co-writer and first time director Ricky Straub rarely strays from the cliché paddock with themes of trust and redemption encompassed in things like Cole being the only one a wild horse called Boo will let near him, while the dialogue frequently ploughs into the cornfield. That said, however, the central performances are strong and it delivers its inspirational black community message with a genuine passion and vibrancy that reflects the reality on which it’s founded (as the end credits reveal, several of the cast are real Fletcher Street cowboys basically playing themselves), so that while the narrative scenery may be shaky at times, the foundations are solid. (Netflix)
County Lines (15)
Inspired by stories he heard while working in an East London pupil referral unit and based on his 2017 short, New Zealand-born, London-based writer-director Henry Blake makes his feature debut with this powerful examination of the impact and damage involved in the use of teenagers and young children as drug mules, trafficking across county boundaries.
It focuses on Tyler (an outstanding turn by newcomer Conrad Kahn), a disaffected east London 14-year-old who, angry, frustrated and resentful, lives with his younger sister and single mother, Toni (Ashley Madekwe), essentially the man of the house while she works nights as a hotel cleaner and brings home far from suitable pick-ups. Disengaged and bullied at school, where he’s in the pupil referral unit, he falls under the influence of Simon (Harris Dickinson), a local ‘entrepreneur’ who initially intervenes when Tyler’s being bullied in the local chicken chippie, seeking him out, impressed by his relatively flashy lifestyle and, through being meals and nice trainers, eventually being chillingly groomed to smuggle drugs, concealed in his rectum (a product placement Vaseline could have done without), to clients down at the coast.
The film opens with a close-up on a blank, often distracted Tyler as the voice of a female social worker informs him that, in that line of work, he’s what businesses refer to as an acceptable loss, the scene replayed later in the film, only this time with his social worker in the frame. In-between, Blake charts how exposure to the often brutal world of suppliers and users, an abused young female addict in particular, both shocks and hardens Tyler, his experiences then mirrored in his own life as he adopts a machismo attitude to the extent that, at one point, he rounds on and physically attacks his mother, who is increasingly desperate at and unable to cope with her son’s refusal to cooperate with the support the school tries to offer and, having lost her job, is trying to get work to make ends meet.
Visually stark and with effective use of harsh music to compound the punishing environment, it is disturbing, unsettling, often harrowing but never exploitative and always compelling viewing that pointedly, while offering Tyler physical and emotional rescue, refuses to compromise with a pat, moralistic and upbeat ending. (BFI Player, Curzon Home Cinema)
At times recalling Hunt For The Wilderpeople, writer-director Anna Kerrigan’s western-tinged drama debut is a low key but incredibly engaging affair, one that also shows what an underrated actor Steve Zahn, too often consigned to undemanding comedy, truly is.
Here, he’s Troy, a veteran who (as we see in flashbacks) has suffered from PTSD and now has to take pills to counter his bipolar episodes. He’s happily married to Sally (Jillian Bell), but the relationship comes under tress when their 11-year-old daughter, Josephine (Sasha Knight), confesses to him that she feels she’s a boy trapped in a girl’s body and henceforth wants to be called Joe. Troy is understanding and tries to talk Sally into supporting her, but she will have none of it, insisting it’s just a phase. An incident with his brother-in-law when his young nephew calls Joe a dyke winds up with Troy doing time and, subsequently he and Sally separate with she having custody.
One morning, however, Joe’s bedroom is empty. Troy has taken his son, now with short hair and wearing cowboy style clothes in emulation of the father he adores and the stories he told him, and, ‘borrowing’ a horse from a friend he made in rehab, they’ve set off through the Montana wilds to cross into Canada where everyone’s ‘super nice’. Back home, Sally naturally calls in the police, here in the form of shrewd local cop Faith (Ann Dowd) who suspects there’s more to things than meet the eye, to track the pair down as they make their way cross country, encountering various obstacles along the way, not least when Troy loses his pills and his manic condition reasserts itself.
Never sensationalised, exploited or judgemental, Kerrigan infuses her story and film with recognisable human emotions and pathos that hit home all the more effectively thanks to the understated performances of the central cast, Knight, a transgender actor, especially persuasive, as it builds to an inevitable tense climax. (Amazon Prime, CHILI, Google Play, iTunes Rakuten TV, Sky Store, TalkTalk TV, Virgin Movies)
The Craft:Legacy (15)
Released in 1996, the original movie was a young horror about a coven of teenage high school girls who use witchcraft against those who anger them, until things begin to go badly wrong. Written and directed by Zoe Lister-Jones this is part remake and part coming of age continuation, wherein teen outsider Lily (Cailee Spaeny), moves state with her therapist mother Helen (Michelle Monaghan) to live with mom’s boyfriend Adam (David Duchovny), an author who teaches about reclaiming masculinity, and his three sons. Enrolling in the local school, her first day’s a nightmare when he has her period mid-class and bleeds on the floor (it’s not the only Carrie reference), naturally making her the target for bitchy jokes. She is, however, befriended by three other school misfits, Frankie (Gideon Adlon), African-American Tabby (Lovie Simone) and transgender Lourdes (Zoey Luna) who, when they see her send resident bully boy Timmy (Nicholas Galitzine) flying without apparently touching him decide she’s the fourth member, West and Water, they need to complete their coven.
Understandably bewildered by all this, Lily’s happy to go along, happy to have friends for once, and it’s not long before their powers take flight with them freezing time during a woodland ritual. Fed up with Timmy’s bullying, they concoct a charm to make him ‘woke’, one that works perfectly to the extent he’s soon tagging along with them, expounding on Princess Nokia and Janet Mock, developing a better taste in music and opening up about his deepest secrets. Lily develops a crush and, taking his sweater to bed, conjures a masturbatory love charm, which, inevitably sets off a whole chain on darker events that include an apparent suicide and she being ostracised from the coven.
It takes a while to get to the point where anything dramatic happens, but between Adam’s simmering toxic masculinity (come on, the name’s a giveaway, and he keeps snakes) and Helen telling Lily to embrace being different, it’s clear that dark deeds and revelations of Lily’s past are living up to fall into place. It’s unfortunate than that the climactic moment, which disappointingly has little connection to Lily’s visions, is something of a let-down in which our witches (“we are the weirdos, mister”) come across more like new mutants (one can spark flames from her fingers) battling the misogynist bad guy who wants the power for himself. Unlike the original, the four are definitely the heroes here.
Likewise, while Lily is obviously the centre of the narrative interest (and Spaeny anchors the film), it wouldn’t have gone amiss to afford the other girls at least some background, just as Adam’s boys seem to be here more as place settings than actual characters (a scene where the eldest ‘sleepwalks’ into Lily’s bedroom comes from nowhere and is never mentioned again), but at least Timmy is given some depth, something Galitzine makes the most of with a memorable performance. Still, it’s entertaining enough and it ends with a brief cameo that finally links Lily back to the original film, suggesting the legacy might only just be starting. (Amazon Prime, Apple TV, Google Play, Microsoft)
The Dig (12)
A polite and genteel very English period drama directed by Australia’s Simon Stone, this is based around real life events and the Sutton Hoo discovery in 1939, with war looming, of an 89-foot Anglo Saxon burial ship and is treasure buried beneath a mound in a Sussex field. T It was the most significant Anglo Saxon find until the discovery of the Staffordshire Hoard seventy years later.
The land belonged to the relatively young and recently widowed Edith Pretty (Carey Mulligan) who, with an interest in archaeology and an intuition about the mounds in the back garden, engaged taciturn, self-taught pipe-smoking working-class ‘excavator’ archaeologist Basil Brown (Ralph Fiennes with a broad accent, unlike the refined speaking voice of the other main characters), a freelancer for the Ipswich Museum, to dig away and see what he found.
On discovering the remains of the ship, the big boys descended in the form of pompous British Museum archaeologist Charles Phillips (Ken Stott) and his team to take charge and send Brown packing. Petty refused to let him go and (later publically ensured he receive full credit) Phillips agreed he could remain, but not work on the excavation as the treasures are unearthed revealing the Anglo Saxons to have been a far more sophisticated lot than assumed, with art and currency.
Other than some social class snobbery on the part of the London mob and Pretty’s quiet refusal to be browbeaten just because she’s a woman, even when she’s diagnosed some terminal illness, which she naturally keeps to herself, there’s not a lot more for the film to explore in this particular scenario, although it does spend some time on Edith’s young son, Robert (Archie Barnes), who sees Brown (who lives in and only returns to his stoical supportive wife at weekends) as a sort of surrogate dad.
Consequently, mid-way in, the narrative focus expands to take in a romantic subplot involving Margaret ‘Peggy’ Piggott (Lily James), the wife of fellow archaeologist Stuart (Ben Chaplin) who both form part of the British Museum team, the latter, at least here, invited because she doesn’t weight much, so won’t break the relics. Her husband being somewhat indifferent to her sexually, preferring the company of the lads, Peggy (who was the aunt of the source novel’s author John Preston) finds herself attracted to Pretty’s (fictional) handsome cousin Rory (Johnny Flynn) who assigned to photograph the dig (this somewhat negating the film’s low key feminist threads, given the find was documented by two female photographers), only for him to be called up when war’s declared.
Beautifully shot against a rolling verdant rural landscape with a couple of very striking sequences, it’s tasteful to a fault, the ending musing on the legacy of the past and what we in turn will leave behind us, it may not have as much depth or earthiness as the dig itself, but of its kind it is a kind of treasure. (Netflix)
Viewing a Bonnie and Clyde story through the lens of John Steinbeck and Terrence Malick, director Miles Joris-Peyrafitte sets his narrative in 1935 Depression-era dustbowl Texas where drought-induced farm failures and repossessions are part of everyday life. One such homestead is that of teenager Eugene Evans (Peaky Blinders star Finn Cole), who, abandoned by his biological father when he was five, lives with his mother Olivia (Kerry Condon), police deputy stepfather George (Travis Fimmel), and younger half-sister Phoebe (Darby Camp) on a struggling family farm in water-starved Texas, escaping through reading detective comics and, armed with the single postcard he sent him, fantasising of life in the Gulf of Mexico with his real dad.
Voiced by the adult Phoebe (Lola Kirke), it recalls how his and his family’s life was changed with the news that, following a bank robbery that left a nine-year-old girl dead, gangster’s moll Allison Wells (Margot Robbie, who, coincidentally also produced Promising Young Woman), is on the run and believed to be in the area. Indeed, as George discovers, she’s hiding out in their abandoned barn where, convincing him she never killed anyone (though the voiceover has a different view), and she too was a victim of the foreclosures, he’s persuaded to treat her wound and keep her hidden until she can escape, forsaking the $10,000 reward for her promise of doubling that when she robs a bank in Mexico.
Drawn into a real life version of the stories he reads, he’s soon stealing his mother’s clothes for her and planning to borrow – or if not steal – a vehicle, joining her in his own escape from a dead-end life. Meanwhile, the law, in the form of his step-father, is closing in.
Keeping shootout to a minimum, largely flashbacks to the bank robbery, the film takes its time in building the narrative and the relationship between the naïve, impressionable Eugene and the manipulative Annie, all to the backdrop of Lyle Vincent’s cinematography which conjures echoes of Malick’s Days Of Heaven, as, per the title, it melancholically muses on the cost of dreams in such times, punctuated by brief moments of joy and celebration such as a scene that cuts between a town dance and Eugene destroying police evidence.
Ultimately, Robbie is better than the film she’s in, but even so there’s more than enough here to keep you involved. (Amazon Prime, CHILI, Google Play, iTunes Rakuten TV, Sky Store, TalkTalk TV, Virgin Movies)
End of Sentence (15)
A low key father-son drama veined with a con subplot, this brings together John Hawkes and Logan Lerman in the respective roles of the meek Frank and volatile Sean Fogle. The latter’s doing time in an Alabama prison for auto theft and, at the start of the film, is visited by his mother, who’s dying of cancer while his father waits outside. Fade to black and mom’s being buried, leading Frank to revisit his estranged son on his release on probation with news that it was her last wish that they should go to Ireland and scatter her ashes on some lake in the Dublin countryside. Embittered at Frank for the way he let his own father abuse them both and with a job waiting for him in California, Sean refuses until Frank says that, if he does this, then they won’t ever have to see each other again. He also says his mother had a house there that is now is.
So, it’s off to Ireland and a pub stopover en route to the lake to meet up with relatives that couldn’t make it to the funeral, where Frank learns the man on the motorbike in an old photo of his wife’s was an early flame (who he suspects she visited on her trips back to the old country) and Sean picks up attractive but troubled hitch hiker Jewel (Sarah Bolger), and persuades dad to let her come along with them, she later doing a beguiling rendition of Dirty Old Town with the local musicians.
It becomes something of a shaggy dog tale in the third act, where Jewel’s motives turn out to not what they appear, but even so this doesn’t detract from the unsentimental thread about the need for communication, forgiveness, understanding and the value of family in a search for common ground. It’s a well-trod path, but, the low key direction by Elfar Adalsteins and the terrific performances from and the chemistry between Hawkes and Lerman make it worth travelling again. (Amazon Prime, CHILI, Google Play, iTunes Rakuten TV, Sky Store, TalkTalk TV, Virgin Movies)
Eternal Beauty (15)
Jilted at the altar, Jane (Morfydd Clark, then Sally Hawkins) was subsequently diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic, years of therapy making things worse rather than better. Given to wildly unpredictable behaviour, such as turning up at her parents’ (Robert Pugh, Penelope Wilton) house with the expensive Christmas presents she’s purchased for them to give her, she’s generally treated, at best patronisingly, at worst dismissively, by her family, especially her sister (Billie Piper), who refuses to pay for the handbag, and her awful, abrasive mother.
Disorientingly moving in and out of Jane’s hallucinations to reflect her erratic mental state (she imagines phone calls to her old fiancé professing his love for her), as her story unfolds she meets Mike (David Thewlis) in the doctor’s waiting room, a shiftless – and equally unstable – musician with whom she starts a relationship and, who, during a particularly uncomfortable family dinner, proposes to her.
However, despite an alienating but compelling tour de force performance from Hawkins, whose perspective informs the film, director Craig Roberts often loses his grip on the tone, opting for style over substance, the wayward narrative making it frequently hard to follow, at times wildly experimental and at others doggedly predictable in its portrait of mental illness and how others respond to it. To borrow a line from Jane’s doctor (nicely thrown back in the final scene), it’s fine, but not better. (Sky)
Flora & Ulysses (PG)
Narrating her own story, ten-year-old Flora (an ultra-cute Matilda Lawler) is a comic book fan (mostly Marvel, it seems) who lives with her award-winning (a Jack and Rose statue a la Titanic) romantic novelist mother Phyllis (Alyson Hannigan) who has hit a creative block since separating from husband George (Ben Schwartz), a comic book artist who fell into a slump when he couldn’t get his characters, such as Incandesto (who Flora fantasises along with his sidekicks), published and now works a store shelf-stocker. Trying to get her mojo back, Phyllis has bought an old-fashioned typewriter hoping it will help write the new novel, the deadline for which is looming. It will prove important in a very different way.
Flora (who actually looks like a young Hannigan) is first seen looking to sell her comics stash, disillusioned that superheroes never turn up in the real world when you need them, becoming a self-described cynic with the motto “Do not hope. Observe.” Her favourite book is Terrible Things Can Happen to You. However, her life changes when she rescues a squirrel that’s been sucked up by a neighbour’s remote outdoor vacuum, giving it mouth-to-mouth to bring it back to life. Naming him Ulysses, she takes the rodent home where he proves to be a rather special squirrel, typing out a poem note (“holy unanticipated occurrences!” declares Flora) and proving precisely the bush-tailed superhero she needs in her life.
Naturally, there needs to be a nemesis which, rather inevitably, proves to be the town’s squirrel-obsessed animal control officer (Danny Pudi) who enters the picture after Ulysses causes chaos at a diner, leading to panic cries of rabies. Pursuing a storyline in which he plays a crucial role in bringing Flora’s parents back together, rekindling their personal and professional spark, it also introduces a support cast of eccentrics such as George’s wise and kindly neighbour Dr. Meacham (Anna Deavere Smith) and Flora new friend, a British boy called William (Benjamin Evan Ainsworth) who’s been dumped there for the summer after being diagnosed with hysterical blindness following an incident he’s rather not discuss and who provides much of the comedy seeing via echolocation by making little chirps and usefully having “a knack for absorbing short falls.” Plus a psychotic rangy cat.
Partly about opening yourself up to the magic that surrounds you, it’s a delightful good hearted affair, both amusing and touching, with plenty of action sequences such as Ulysses’s rescues and the scene where Flora and her father break into the animal pound to stop him being euthanised, to keep it rolling along. Brilliant CGI brings a very realistic Ulysses to life and infuses him with real character, which further adds to the chemistry with Lawler, the silliness guarantees to keep the kids happy while director Lena Khan throws in plenty for the grown-ups too, ranging from a soundtrack that classics by Cat Stevens and Tom Jones to such film nods as ET and even a sly reference to Apocalypse Now. An utter joy. (Disney +)
The Glorias (15)
Recently a central figure in the TV series Mrs America which focused on her role in the feminist movement’s struggle for equal rights, adapting the autobiographical My Life on the Road, writer-director Julie Taymor offers a wider look at the life of Gloria Steinem and her journey to becoming a women’s lib icon. As such, it ranges from her itinerant childhood (her father an impecunious travelling antique-salesman, the family lived in a trailer), through her travels in India during the late 50s, her years as a lauded journalist that kickstarted with an undercover expose of the Bunny Girl world for Show magazine and culminated in the launching of Ms Magazine (the term finding its way into official recognition as a form of address) and her work crusading for abortion rights (the film recreates her visit to a London doctor – Tom Nowicki – in 1957 when she fell pregnant) and female equality.
As such, she’s played by four different actresses. Nine-year-old Ryan Kiera Armstrong is the youngster growing up in 1940s Ohio with her irrepressible father Leo (Timothy Hutton) and depressed mother Ruth (Enid Graham), who gave up her own career as a writer – under a male pen name – when she married, moving from one town to another, while, after their divorce, Lulu Wilson is the teenage incarnation living in Toledo as her mother’s mental health falls apart while dad takes off to California. In her twenties, travelling India and making a name for herself as a New York journalist, Alicia Vikander steps in (and introduces the signature aviator glasses) while the older Steinem of the feminist era is played by Julianne Moore, looking uncannily like the real thing as witnessed when Steinem herself finally steps up to reprise her triumphant address to the assembled crowds in Washington.
But rather than hewing to a strictly linear path of Steinem’s greatest hits, Taymor moves back and forth between the Glorias, one scene giving way to another years later/earlier, while also bringing all four together in a black and white sequence as they share conversations while travelling on a Greyhound bus. Fleshing out the cast of characters is a roll call of other women’s movement luminaries who were in her orbit, among them Janelle Monae as Dorothy Pitman Hughes who teaches her how to speak in public, Lorraine Toussaint as the outrageous shoot-from-the-hip Flo Kennedy, Kimberly Guerrero ‘s Wilma Mankiller and an exuberant Bette Midler as Bella Abzug.
Taymor laces all of this with a series of fantasy and psychedelic sequences, including a riff on The Wizard Of Oz when Steinem’s interviewed with a male TV presenter asking why she never married while also frequently shifting between colour and monochrome, or even (as with the yellow road markings) mixing both. And yet, underpinned by the core old school biopic narrative, the film never feels confused or adrift and, even at over two hours it keeps you glued to the screen and the story of this self-styled crazy woman. (Sky)
Godzilla vs Kong (12A)
A thundering welcome back to the cinemas that looks to offer spectacular popcorn entertainment without challenging the brain cells (other than trying to make sense of some of the plot strands), set not long after the events in Godzilla: King of the Monsters, this reunites the titular two titans who last faced off in 1963 Japanese film King Kong vs. Godzilla.
As the film opens, to keep him save from his scaly arch enemy, everyone’s favourite oversized gorilla is being kept in a large dome on Skull Island, designed to resemble his natural habitat and being monitored by Monarch in the shape of Doctor Ilene Andrews (Rebecca Hall) whose adopted deaf mute daughter Jia (Kaylee Hottle) has struck up a bond with the giant ape and, spoiler alert, can who can communicate with him through sign language. Not stupid, Kong has sussed this isn’t his actual home, making his point by throwing a tree through the electronic net covering his habitat.
Meanwhile, having been off the radar for some years, Godzilla, formerly seen as the planet’s protector, suddenly reappears, attacking the Florida base of the high tech global corporate Apex Cybernetics for, it would seem, no apparent reason. As Dr. Mark Russell (Kyle Chandler’) succinctly puts it by way of stating the obvious, “Godzilla is out there and he’s hurting people and we don’t know why!” His daughter Madison (Millie Bobby Brown) is, however, convinced Apex are up to no good and, with the reluctant help of her nerdy techie teen friend Josh (Julian Dennison) recruits conspiracy podcast theorist Bernie (Brian Tyree Henry), a former Apex engineer, to sneak in and find out what’s going on.
Drawing the storylines together, Apex CEO Walter Simmons (Demian Bichir) persuades scientist Dr. Nathan Lind (Alexander Skarsgard), controversial for his hollow Earth theory that giant creatures are living within the planet’s core, to head up a mission to solve the energy crisis and journey into this world in one of his new specially designed vehicles. To which end, Lind persuades Andrews to go along with a plan to transport a sedated Kong by sea back to his natural home, away from Godzilla. Needless to say, Godzilla attacks the fleet leading to the first clash between the two juggernauts, with Kong not coming off best.
At this point, the narrative jumps back and forth between Lind, Andrews and Jia journeying into the world within with Kong, Simmons’s daughter accompanying them in another craft with clearly an agenda of her and her father’s own, while, back at Apex, Madison and co are snooping round and discovering just what Simmons is up to, winding up in Hong Kong where another slug fest between the monsters takes place and a third techno titan enters the equation in a battle for supremacy.
Lurching from one big exposition scene to the next, punctuated by mass destruction battles, the human cast take it and the arch dialogue seriously so that audiences don’t have to, but, once in gear, director Adam Wingard drives it all along at a furious pace, investing Kong with a hitherto little seen humanity and personality and playfully peppering the soundtrack with numbers like The Air That I Breathe. A massive adrenaline rush after those months cooped up, indulge at will. (Cineworld 5 Ways, NEC; Empire Great Park; Everyman; Odeon Birmingham, Broadway Plaza Luxe, West Brom; Reel; Vue)
Having mined the internet for Friended and Unfriended, horror now enlists Zoom for this ingenious and electrifyingly effective POV corona virus scarefest which unfolds entirely on computer screen windows as a group of friends (Haley Bishop, Jemma Moore, Emma Louise Webb, Radina Drandova, Caroline Ward) share screens to hold a lockdown seance which, inevitably, deadly consequences. Nodding to Blair Witch with the characters all using their actual first names, working remotely, director and co-writer Rob Savage unfolds events in real time (56 minutes) as six university friends (one American, five British) log in following Haley’s suggestion they hold a virtual séance with the assistance of her go to Scottish psychic (Seylan Baxter). Playing a drinking game where they take a shot whenever Seylan says “astral plane”, it’s all a bit of a joke. Until it’s not.
Lights go on the blink, there’s noises off and hints of something in the background. Then it gets more intense, a clown mask floating in mid-air behind one of the participants, for example. At one point, they realise that one of their number has vanished and what they’re watching is a video background screensaver of her. Yup, some malicious spirit from beyond has logged itself in.
Pared down to the basic fright-inducing necessities, there’s nothing surplus to requirements (not even one of the girl’s fathers or the male friend crashing the all-girls night in) as it digs into each of their personalities, the shared dynamic and the latent fears, punctuating the narrative with some sudden jolting scares and making spine-shivering use of the app’s technology and the familiar glitches. You won’t approach your next remote conference call in quite the same way. (Amazon, BFI Player, BT, Google, iTunes, Microsoft, PlayStation, Rakuten, Sky, Talk Talk, Virgin)
I Care A Lot (15)
Golden Globe winner Rosamund Pike electrifies the screen in this return to thriller form by J Blakeson, the British writer-director of The Disappearance of Alice Creed. Pike plays Marla Grayson, a latter day Gordon Gekko with a severe bob cut and a vaping habit who, by greasing the right palms, from doctors (Alicia Witt) to administrators (Damian Young), has carved a lucrative scam for herself and her business partner cum girlfriend Fran (Eiza Gonzalez) by having vulnerable senior citizens declared incapable and, with the help of an admiring judge, placed into care with herself and her firm appointed as legal guardian.
At which point they proceed to plunder their estate and savings under the guide of necessary expenses and administration fees. Just how smoothly she works her Kafkaesque schemes things is shown in the first courtroom scene where she gets the son of one of her ‘clients’ barred from visitation rights after he caused a scene at the care home. Looking for their next mark, the pair target Jennifer Peterson (Dianne Wiest), a wealthy senior showing early mild signs of dementia and with no apparent family to take responsibility. A ‘cherry’. The next thing Peterson knows is that, without warning or any court appearance, she’s being bundled out of her home by social services and the police and taken off to be placed under the charge of one of Marla’s creepy care home administrator accomplices, stripped of her cell phone, and pumped with tranquilisers. Marla, meanwhile, puts the house up for sale and discovers a fortune in diamonds in a safety deposit box.
It’s at this point that what initially appeared to be a caustic satire on rampant and ruthless capitalism, the treatment of the elderly and the flaws in America’s legally appointed guardianship system suddenly pulls a genre flip into a deadly cat and mouse thriller. Peterson, you see, does have family. A son she sees once a year on a prearranged date. He’s Roman Lunyov (Peter Dinklage), a ruthless businessman who just happens to be a former Russian mafia kingpin. And he doesn’t take kindly to having his mother locked away. As Peterson coldly informs her “”I’m the worst mistake you’ll ever make”.
Marla’s initially unaware of any of this of course, only that a snappily dressed lawyer (Chris Messina) turns up offering $150,000 for Peterson’s release and making hardly veiled threats when she, looking to hold out for a bigger payoff, turns him down. Things very quickly turn murderously nasty in what develops into a battle of wits and power between Marla and Roman, Peterson as her leverage, as she looks to negotiate a better deal than he’s offering, and he decides to simply eradicate the annoyances. While it’s hard not be impressed by Marla’s smarts and resilience, while both apparently care for their respective lover and mother, neither of the film’s despicable protagonists are intended to grab your sympathies, each lacking in the most basic humanity in their ferocious determination to succeed and become obscenely wealthy.
Balancing a tightrope between compellingly nasty thriller and jet black satire, Blakeson rattles the action and tension along with barely a pause for breath as the stakes continue to rise before an unexpected resolution that returns to the predatory toxicity of the American Dream and a last minute comeuppance for at least one of those concerned. Weist, Dinklage and Gonzalez are all terrific, but none can hold a candle to Pike who, making her Gone Girl performance seem like soft-pedalling tears into the screenplay like a wolf, toying with the dialogue before ripping it to shreds yet never once losing her chilly calm composure.
In the opening voiceover, remarking how there are two types of people: predators and prey, lions and lambs, she declares “My name is Marla Grayson and I am no lamb. I am a fucking lioness.” Watch her roar. (Amazon Prime)
I’m Your Woman (15)
One night, Jean (Rachel Brosnahan) is, as is often the case, sitting alone waiting for her husband, Eddie (Bill Heck), to come home, when he walks in holding a baby which he announces as theirs. Confused, nevertheless, having earlier announced in voiceover she can’t have kids, she happily takes on the role of a mother, the naming the baby Harry. It’s not until much later in the film that writer-director Julia Hart offers any explanations to the child’s origin or the reason for the name, but then keeping the audience guessing is all part of how this absorbing 70s set thriller works.
Not long after the baby’s arrival, three friends turn up and Eddie announces he’ll be back late again. However, instead of Eddie, one of his colleagues turns up in the middle of the night telling Jean to pack a bag, fills it with thousands of dollar stashed in the cupboard, and tells her she and the child have to leave immediately. There’s no reason given, no information on what’s happened or where Eddie is. Bundled outside, she’s met by Cal (Arinzé Kene), a mysterious figure whose background is again withheld, but who clearly has parenting skills, who drives them away as her new protector.
Clearly Eddie’s a criminal, something of which Jean is aware, but Cal reveals he’s more than some thief. Again no details are forthcoming. Cal sets her up in a ‘safe house’, well stocked then they arrive, telling her not to talk to anyone, but, in case of emergency, there’s a phone (a pink one) in the drawer and she’s to dial the number he gives her. Emergency duly arrives, people are killed, and Jean and Harry are transferred to a remote cabin to which subsequently come Cal’s more dynamic and kick ass wife, Teri (Marsha Stephanie Blake), her young son and father, Art (Frankie Faison), the latter teaching Jean how to shoot. More background to all the new arrivals in Jean’s life, their relationships to each other finally emerge, further complicating rather than clarifying the picture. Leaving her father with the kids, Teri takes Jean to a nightclub that has links to Eddie, and that’s when things really get interesting and bloody.
Both a character-driven drama exploring themes of self, motherhood and marriage as well as a suspenseful if murky crime thriller, it daringly continues to tease the audience, feeding information tiny morsels at a time, something that is both frustrating and compelling. Brosnahan, the star of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, proves she’s far more than a successful comedic actor with an understated but deeply rich performance that, as she takes more command of her life, carries things through the less involving moments, while Kene is equally strong as the enigmatic, ambiguously framed Cal.
In all honesty, the film becomes less compelling the more the narrative explains, turning into a somewhat routine woman in distress find her inner steel/bad guys fall out set-up while the ending doesn’t have the emotional clout to which it clearly aspires. Even so, it keeps you with until the final frame. (Amazon Prime)
Judas and the Black Messiah (15)
In December 1969, aged 21, Fred Hampton, chairman of the Illinois chapter of the Black Panther Party in Chicago and deputy chairman of the national BPP, was shot dead in his bed by the FBI when they broke into his apartment. They had been given the layout by his trusted security chief William O’Neal, who had also drugged Hampton, and who was, in fact, an undercover informant.
Director Shaka King charts the lead up to the assassination from O’Neal (Lakeith Stanfield) being busted by the Feds for impersonating an FBI agent in order to steal cars and subsequently being forced to work as an informant by Bureau agent Roy Mitchell (Jesse Plemons) as part of as campaign to crush the movement regarded by racist FBI head J. Edgar Hoover (Martin Sheen under heavy prosthetics) who regarded them as threat to America on part with Communism and was concerned about the rise of a potential Black Messiah.
As the film unfolds, we follow Hampton’s ( Daniel Kaluuya) gradual rise to prominence with his fiery rhetoric, forging alliances with other powerful groups, including local street gangs, revolutionaries the Young Lords and unlikely as it seems, Southern White organisation the Young Patriots, coming together as The Rainbow Coalition. Having failed to crush them either by imprisoning Fred on a trumped up charge or by setting fire to their headquarters after a siege, it was decided to eliminate Hampton. In tandem, it charts the blossoming of a relationship between Hampton and Black Panther volunteer Deborah Johnson (Dominique Fishback) who became his fiancée and was pregnant with his son at the time of the killing.
Alongside, it also unfolds O’Neal’s rise through the ranks to become Hampton’s right-hand man, his meetings with Mitchell (he’s visibly thrilled at being taken to an upmarket restaurant) and conflicts of conscience over his two roles, finally climaxing in the bloody predawn raid involving a tactical unit of the Cook County State’s Attorney’s Office, the Chicago Police Department and the FBI, during which Panther Mark Clark was also killed and several others seriously wounded.
Driven by dynamite performances by the fiery charismatic Kaluuya and a more nuanced Stanfield (who remains sympathetic despite his Judas role), both nominated for Best Supporting Actor, potently supported by Fishback and Plemons (there’s chilling scene where he’s thrown and discomfited by Hoover asking what he’ll do when his daughter’s called on by a black boyfriend), it’s a powerful and appropriately angry drama that affords no easy answers and ends with both a recreation of the only television interview the much older O’Neal ever gave and footage from the real thing where he’s questioned about his actions. A closing postscript notes he committed suicide that same night. Gripping stuff. (Amazon Prime, BT TV, CHILI, Google Play, Rakuten TV, Sky Store; Cineworld 5 Ways, NEC; Empire Great Park; Odeon Birmingham, Broadway Plaza Luxe; Vue; Tue 25-Thu 3: MAC)
The Kid Detective (15)
As an adolescent, Abe Applebaum (Adam Brody) had a knack for working out the villain in the movies on TV, a skill he channelled into playing his small town’s resident detective, operating from his tree house and solving such mysteries as helping the principal (Peter MacNeill) find who stole the school’s fund raising cash box and even earning free ice cream for life from the local parlour and being given the key to the city. Two decades later, the mayor’s now apathetic goth daughter (Sarah Sutherland) is still answering his phones but he’s lost his mojo, self-respect and reputation, consumed with guilt over not solving the disappearance of high school girl Gracie and his parents (Wendy Crewson, Jonathan Whittaker) can’t find a gentle way to suggest he call it a day,
Then comes a chance of redemption when teenager Caroline (Sophie Nélisse), a satisfied customer from the past turns up and, with the police getting nowhere, asks him to find who murdered her Japanese boyfriend , frenziedly stabbing him 17 times. Though clearly way out of his depth, she drives him round while he questions the dead boy’s friends and parents, coming to the conclusion that he was apparently a dark horse with a drug habit and a secret ‘concubine’ as one friend puts it. But, as he tells Caroline, appearances can be deceptive and, no matter how small the issue, everyone has a secret.
While there’s propensity for comedy, as in the running gag about hiding in the closet, director Evan Morgan plays his hard-boiled noir homage straight, tapping into the depression and guilt crippling Abe, even if the credibility stretching rushed last act revelations (a closure which comes with a touch of Room about it) pile up rather too conveniently but, even if, dissolving on a striking final shot, it isn’t an unqualified happy ending, it keeps you engaged throughout. (Amazon Prime, CHILI, Google Play, iTunes Rakuten TV, Sky Store, TalkTalk TV, Virgin Movies)
The Last Shift (15)
A former high school athlete, Stan (Richard Jenkins) left school in 1971 he took a job working the graveyard shift at a small town Chicago fast food outlet, Oscar’s Chicken and Fish. Now, 38 years later and on the princely sum of $13 an hour, he’s finally retiring and moving out of the flophouse he shares with his indolent roommates to move to Sarasota and look after his dementia-stricken mother. Before his last shift, however, he has to train up his replacement, Jevon (Shane Paul McGhie), a young African-American unwed father who’s taken the job as a condition of his probation after being jailed for defacing a monument, riding an escalator the wrong way and resisting arrest. He’s bright, but self-destructive and certainly doesn’t have Stan’s respect for the job’s responsibilities, though, on the other hand, his grudging mentor’s impressed at the way he handles the local drunk.
Set over a couple of nights, it explores the way the relationship between them two men develops as Stan imparts such wisdom as how middle-class women prefer honey mustard to ranch. Along the way writer-director Andrew Cohn reveals more about their backgrounds and experiences Stan recalls his worst experience when a birthday party ran out of ketchup. Though that should be balanced with how, back when he started, he saw a fellow black student being beaten to death by his white classmates, but said nothing. After all, the kid should have talked so much. Deferential to a fault. Stan’s not overtly racist, but while he initially refuses to let Jevon in, thinking he’s there to rob the place, in a town where everyone seems embittered or desperate, that’s perhaps not a singular suspicion about people of colour.
Still, Stan keeps his head down, is polite even to the jerks and takes a certain pride in his job, naturally bristling when Jevon, who feels he’s too good for the job, fails to do likewise, serving a frozen burger to an annoyed mother. Jevon too has his share of troubles, beyond just inequality and race (and the film has is fair discussion on the subject between the men), with his girlfriend Sydney (Birgundi Baker) walking out in exasperation that he does nothing to for his family, and faced with the realisation that this is what his future may look like too.
A downbeat meditation on the death of the American dream, pretty much a two-hander, it’s anchored by tour de force performances from Jenkins and McGhie (so much better than playing a similar character in Foster Boy), it’s a slow burning, small scale affair that eschews big drama for a portrait of two men struggling with their failed lives, the inevitability of the ending merely compounding the sense of resignation that percolates throughout. (Amazon Prime, CHILI, Google Play, iTunes Rakuten TV, Sky Store, TalkTalk TV, Virgin Movies)
Let Him Go (15)
Kevin Costner specialises in playing father figures, be it in the wider frame of Hidden Figures, as an escaped con bonding with the boy he kidnaps in A Perfect World, the mentor to a troubled teen in The Guardian or fighting a custody battle in Black and White. So, set in the mid-60s, he fits snugly into the character of George Blackledge, an ageing retired lawman turned rancher living on their Montana farm with former horse-breaker wife Margaret (Diane Lane, Martha to his Jonathan Kent in the Superman films), son James (Ryan Bruce), his wife, Lorna (Kayli Carter), and their infant son, Jimmy. Tragedy strikes, however, when James is thrown from his horse and killed.
Given the film’s title you might well expect a tale of coming to terms with grief and finding closure; however, James death is almost immediately followed by a shot of Lorna remarrying nice guy Donnie Weboys (Will Brittain). Except, as Margaret discovers when she sees them in town, he’s anything but, striking both Lorna and the now three-year-old Jimmy for dropping his ice-cream. Concerned, she says nothing but, turning up at their apartment and finding they’ve abruptly left town, it doesn’t take much to persuade the more taciturn George (who points out they’re on dodgy legal ground) to join her on a road trip in their ancient Chevy station wagon to track them down and reclaim their grandson, firing her with a sense of aggressive purpose she’s lacked since her son’s death.
The journey takes them to North Dakota where, having encountered a kindly young loner (Booboo Stewart), they discover the Weboys are a notoriously no-good dynasty based on a ranch in the middle of nowhere and headed up by chain-smoking scumbag matriarch Blanche (a Lesley Manville who gives a memorably dinner table stand-off where there’s more scenery chewed than pork chops) who has no intention of letting son Donnie fly the nest a second time or of the Blackledges taking Jimmy back with them. And, even when they persuade Lorna to do a runner in the middle of the night, things very bloodily do not go as planned, leading up to the dramatic rescue mission finale about the cost of heroism where Costner gets to put family first.
Given a neo-Western sheen, it’s fairly predictable and lacking in nuance, and Lorna frankly doesn’t seem to get much say in things, although Blanche and Margaret locking horns (Lane is far more the lead than Costner) certainly ticks strong-willed women box, but taking a slow burn and suspenseful path to its eventual shoot-em up climax. (Amazon Prime, CHILI, Google Play, iTunes Rakuten TV, Sky Store, TalkTalk TV, Virgin Movies)
Little Fish (15)
Written before the advent of Covid, Chad Hartigan’s mutedly sad film is set against a different pandemic, neuro-inflammatory affliction, which, akin to Alzheimer’s, robs people young and old of their ability to remember (a pilot forgets how to fly, a marathon runner forgets to stop). At the start we’re introduced to photographer Jude (Starred Up’s Jack O’Connell) and Emma (Olivia Cooke from Sound of Metal), recently married after his rough charm seduced her away from a boyfriend, she didn’t love at a Halloween party, she writing down memories of their relationship, including a stray dog they adopted (she a vet, having to euthanize pets owners no longer remember) called Blue.
It keeps returning to those first weeks together (including a lovely moment in a pet shop aquarium where he proposes) as it becomes clear that, while she seems immune, Jude is starting to show symptoms, made scarier by flashbacks to a similar relationship between two of their friends, songwriter Ben (Raul Castillo), the first of their circle to catch is heartbreaking as Ben, the songwriter who is the first of the group to catch NIA, desperately tried to record all his songs before he forgets how to play them and, eventually, no longer recognises his wife.
There’s few scenes of the world outsider the couple’s relationship, although images of hostile crowds gathering where medical trials are purportedly being carried out (Emma gets Jude into a programme, but the vaccine side-effects might be worse than the illness) deftly capture the apocalyptic tone with its accompanying conspiracy theories. Mostly, though, it’s a meditation on the importance and fragility of memory and an intimate perspective of someone trying to hold on to the person they love in the face of seemingly impossible odds, giving a whole new meaning to the phrase “I know you better than you know yourself” as it winds to an achingly poignant final image. (Amazon Prime, CHILI, Google Play, iTunes Rakuten TV, Sky Store, TalkTalk TV, Virgin Movies)
The Little Things (15)
A backwater town’s sheriff’s deputy who drives a beat-up truck, Joe Deacon (Denzel Washington) is despatched to his old big city stomping grounds in LA where he was one a legend to pick up a pair of boots to be used in evidence at an upcoming trial. Here, he crosses paths with Detective Baxter (Rami Malek), the hotshot who effectively stepped into his old shoes in homicide, who invites him along to check out a murder, a young hooker found stabbed to death in her apartment. Noticing something that escapes the others (his credo is that it’s the little things that get you caught), Deacon decides to stay on, ostensibly on leave, as the murder is strikingly similar to an unsolved serial killer case he was working on before a terrible mistake (not revealed until much later in the film after several build-up flashbacks) saw him quit the force, the two cops increasingly working together as they try and pin down a suspect, the report of another missing woman driving the committed but professionally cool Baxter to solve the case, the trail eventually leading to cocksure scumbag Albert Sparma (Jared Leto in familiar mode) who seems to fit the bill but, without any evidence, taunts him to breaking point.
Directed by John Lee Hancock and firmly in the 90s L.A. noir vein, it plays a little too obviously at times, but equally there’s some very effective sequences, notably Deacon talking to the dead girl on the mortuary slab and lying in his darkened, seedy hotel room with its photos of the three dead prostitutes on the wall while hallucinating them at the bottom of his bed.
While the screenplay could have done with a polish (Deacon’s awkward visit to his ex-wife feels redundant), delivering another introspective, soulful performance, Washington is far better than the material while Malik almost robotic demeanour has its own kind of presence and Leto is, well, Leto. It does, though, build to an unexpected and morally ambiguous climax that links Deacon and Baxter’s demons in a way that leaves the audience with far more troubling questions than pat answers. (Amazon Prime, BT TV, CHILI, Google Play, Rakuten TV, Sky Store; Odeon Birmingham, Broadway Plaza Luxe; Vue)
Locked Down (15)
Written by Steven Knight and filmed by Doug Liman in just a few days during lockdown, this has come in for some scathing criticisms about everything from the unpolished screenplay to the quality of the acting. But, while there are flaws, it’s nowhere near as terrible as some reviews suggest,
Juggling a storyline that embraces societal change, a love story, a critique of corporate corruption and a heist, it’s not unambitious, even if it does, at times, stretch credulity. Set in London early last year, Paxton (Chiwitel Ejiofor) and Linda (Anne Hathaway) are confined to the rooms they share. Unfortunately, the decade-long romance has run its course or at least for her, who resents that the motorbike riding wild man and poetry lover she fell for has become a self-loathing ball of resentment who. on account of an incident earlier in his life, hasn’t been able to progress his career beyond a driver for a delivery firm (run by Ben Kingsley who precedes all his virtual meetings with a prayer). She, meanwhile is a highly strung CEO for an international conglomerate who, currently furloughed, we see early on power dressing and coolly firing several employees via a Zoom meeting. Like Paxton, she’s increasingly hating her job, but equally unable to do anything about it. Until that is, as coincidence would have it, Paxton’s boss pressures him to do a bit of illegal moonlighting under a false name (the running joke is that his embittered colleague suggests he be called Edgar Allen Poe) which will entail driving goods from department stores to be kept in storage. The last of these will be from Harrods. Which is where Linda used to work and who has been told by her boss (Ben Stiller) to arrange the removal of a $3million diamond which has been bought by some unnamed murderous despot, while disposing of the fake on display. Given only she and Paxton will be handling the gem (and, incredulously, nobody knows of their connection), it doesn’t take a lot to see where this is going, if, that is, they decide, when the moment comes, to go through with it. And if you think he getting his outlaw mojo back rekindles the flame, then you can probably fast forward through the last act.
There’s some great caustic banter between the two leads who share a real chemistry as well as a townhouse while Knight’s deadpan screenplay wryly sends up the now familiar COVID-19 rituals like secret ciggies (tobacco “tastes like youth”), downing wine and painfully civilised virtual meetings, and, when the heist gets under way (with Stephen Merchant adding to cameos by Mindy Kaling and Claes Bang), even a will they get away with it touch of suspense. Plus a hedgehog high on opium licked from flowers in the back garden. Silly, but still quite fun. (Amazon Prime, BT TV, CHILI, Google Play, Rakuten TV, Sky Store)
Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (15)
Following on from Fences, directed by George C Wolfe, driven by a score from Branford Marsalis with a sharp screenplay from Ruben Santiago-Hudson, this is the second adaptation from The Pittsburgh Cycle, a collection of ten plays by the late August Wilson chronicling the African-American community in the 20th century. Written in 1984, set in 1927, it was inspired by legendary blues singer Ma Rainey, dubbed the Mother of the Blues, played here in powerhouse form by Viola Davis, who won a Supporting Actress Oscar for the previous film. However, the dramatic focus and, inevitably, the film’s most compelling attraction, is that it co-stars the late Chadwick Boseman (with whom Davis appeared in Get On Up) delivering a volcanic, highly physical live wire performance in his final Golden Globe-winning role as her band’s fictional trumpet player, Levee, an ambitious, cocky figure determined to make a name for himself but also troubled by a traumatic past.
First seen on his way to the recording studio, his attention’s caught by a pair of flash, yellow leather shoes which he buys and proudly shows off to his colleagues, and which will prove the catalyst to the film’s sudden, tragic ending. The youngest and a new addition to the ranks, he’s at the Chicago recording studio owned by Sturdyvant (Jonny Coyne), along with bassist Slow Drag (Michael Potts), veteran piano player, Toledo (Glynn Turman) and highly religious trombonist Cutler (Colman Domingo) the band’s de facto leader, to rehearse in the basement ready to lay down material for Ma’s next records, among them her signature tune Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom, He, however, has his own ideas for the arrangement they should play, a swing intro designed to hook an audience looking for livelier, more danceable music. His swagger is buoyed by the fact Sturdyvant, seeing crossover potential, has agreed and also expressed interest in his own compositions with a view to recording, a step towards Levee forming his own band and becoming a star in his own right.
However, as Cutler points out, this is Ma’s music and Ma’s band and what she says goes. It’s clear from her first appearance, sporting gold teeth and overdone makeup, arriving in a swanky car driven by her nephew Sylvester (Dusan Brown) along with her latest flirty young pick-up, Dussie Mae (Taylour Paige), and immediately involved in an altercation with another driver, that she’s a blowsy, imperious diva used to getting her own way. Under no illusions as to her status in a white America, she also knows that the sales of her records give her the power to call the shots, something she makes very clear by her late arrival and the demands she makes during the session, declaring “they gonna treat me the way I want to be treated no matter how much it hurt ‘em”, much to the exasperation of her long-suffering white manager Irvin (Jeremy Shamos).
Inevitably, then, she immediately slaps down Levee’s proposals, insisting that Sylvester will do the song’s spoken introduction (despite the fact he stutters) and they’ll play it the way it’s always been played. It’s not the only time during the session that Levee’s hopes will be taken away from him.
Much of the drama takes place in the rehearsal room where, in a mix of playful banter and more serious concerns, the conversation variously takes in fashion sense, the history of black oppression, Toledo’s views on the futility of trying to change things (“The coloured man, he’s the leftovers”, he declares after his African Stew monologue), Levee’s seemingly sycophant attitude to white folk, and, tellingly, the story of black man who sold his soul to the Devil and became untouchable. It’s here that, driven by the friction between Levee and Cutler that Boseman’s most electrifying, blisteringly intense scenes take place, first in recounting the childhood trauma of seeing his mother violated by a gang of white ‘crackers’ (who only stopped after scarring his chest with a blade) and what he learnt from his father’s revenge and, subsequently a physical knife-bearing confrontation with Cutler and a subsequent ferocious calling out of God for abandoning him (given added resonance since Boseman was by now dying of cancer) and never intervening to save his mother.
The knife, naturally, has, along with the shoes, a further part to play as the anger within Levee boils over in the wake of Rainey’s veto of his arrangement (his revenge is to have sex on the piano with Dussie Mae) and Sturdyvant’s rejection of his songs (and recording sessions) as of no commercial worth, the final intercut scenes, of course, underling white exploitation of black music as we see them being recorded by an all white line-up. The film will be celebrated and remembered as Boseman’s final and finest hour, but it’s also much more than that. (Netflix)
Made In Italy (12A)
There is of course an uncomfortable real life frisson about pairing Liam Neeson with his son Micheál Richardson as a father and son whose lives were upturned when, the wife and mother was killed in a tragic accident. There again this probably need any emotional support it can muster as it unfolds a well-worn tale of lives being healed under the Tuscan sun (which, of course, was an earlier film of exactly that title).
When his wife died, Robert (Neeson) packed his son off to boarding school (for reasons he explains later), returned to England, developed an artistic block and immersed himself in drink and one night stands. Now they’re estranged and Jack (Richardson) run a London art gallery (which his dad’s never visited) owned by his wife’s family, although he’s taken aback to learn that she’s planning to sell it. They’re going through a divorce and if he wants to keep it then he has to raise the money to buy them out. So, without mentioning the fine print, he duly seeks to persuade his father to sell their old Tuscan family home, which has stood empty for some 20 years. Surprisingly, he agrees, so off they pop to Italy where, overrun with the dust of time, the place is revealed to a prime case of a Fixer Upper, not least for the red and harsh Jackson Pollack-like mural Robert daubed on the wall to vent his grief. A challenge even for practised estate agent to the rich and pretentious, Kate (Lindsay Duncan, who also appeared in that other Tuscan idyll).
Still, albeit Robert less enthusiastically so, the two set about doing the place up and getting rid of the resident weasel, to which end Jack has the help of local single mother divorcee restaurant owner Natalia (Valeria Bilello), signalling of course the inevitable romantic interest. And then what is it that Robert has got padlocked in the nearby shed.
Written and directed by James D’Arcy, it’s cute, sunny and sentimental with attractive Tuscan views to distract you from the threadbare and predictable narrative as renovating the house plays as a glaring metaphor for repairing the father-son relationship and finding new starts. There’s a natural chemistry between Neeson and Richardson and, it makes a change not to see the former killing anyone, but that and the landscape are probably the biggest sells. (Amazon Prime)
Malcolm and Marie (15)
While laying itself open to accusation of having a white writer-director addressing the racial politics of Hollywood and film criticism, written and made over few days in lockdown, filmed in crisp monochrome, Sam Levinson, son of Barry, has, influenced by John Cassavetes and perhaps taking a cue from Who’s Afraid Of Virginia Woolf (as well as a toilet shot from Eyes Wide Shut), delivered a provocative, theatrical and dialogue heavy drama that never pulls its emotional punches.
A two-hander, it boasts titanic work from John David Washington and Zendaya in the title roles, the film opening with the couple returning from the premiere of the movie he’s directed, he high on the effusive positive response and, though he’d prefer being tagged the new William Wyler than the new Spike Lee or Barry Jenkins, looking to celebrate, she clearly pissed off over something or other, Initially refusing to say why, he presses her and she tells him she’s annoyed that he never included her in his list of pre-screening thanks. He apologised at the time and does so again, it was just an oversight. But clearly there’s more rankling her than that. Such as the fact that she argues that the lead character a 20-year-old black drug addict, was based on her. He tries to turn it back against her, she’s needy, jealous. He rescued her, now she’s attacking him.
But, as the film unfolds, accusations are tossed back and forth and scars opened up, the screenplay digs deeper into their relationship while the framing emphasises their disconnection from one another. He’s self-absorbed and conceited, she’s dangerously insecure. He trots out intellectual bullshit about racial politics, about the movie industry, about critics (he goes off on one when he reads the glowingly effusive review from “the white lady from the L.A. Times”, declaring she has no idea bout filmmaking, has stereotyped him as Black filmmaker and is seeing political comment when he claims none existed). She can barely keep from laughing.
Both characters declare they love each other, but this is a clearly toxic relationship and yet perhaps emotionally sadomasochistic in the way that they need each other and the delicate power balance that on which it pivots. Caustic and sharply funny by turns, with a very smart use of music as narrative commentary, both stars give career best performances, the scene where Zendaya demonstrates what authenticity is really about is as good as any Oscar winning moment of the past two decades. (Netflix)
During the Golden Age of Hollywood in the 30s and 40s, screenwriter Herman J Mankiewicz churned out many a motion picture, often without getting any screen credit. Then, in 1941, Orson Welles (Tom Burke), who, for his film debut, had been given carte blanche by RKO studios to make whatever he wanted, with whoever he wanted and with absolute control. So, he enlisted Mankiewicz (Gary Oldman) to write what would turn out to be Citizen Kane.
The only problem was that Mankiewicz, a garrulous ex-journalist, was a notorious drunk who had rubbed many a Hollywood executive the wrong way, getting fired on several occasions, and, on top of which, in the psychodrama version directed by David Fincher from his late father’s screenplay, he’s just broken his leg in a car accident. So, as told in vintage black and white (complete with the ‘burns’ in the corner that were used to indicate a reel change), he’s shipped out to a ranch house in the Mojave desert, ministered to by a German housekeeper, monitored by John Houseman (Sam Troughton) and dictating his script to English secretary Rita Alexander (Lily Collins), all of whom are charged with keeping him away from the booze. Welles, it would seem, has generously provided him a case of whiskey as a reward at the end of the day’s work, except it’s actually Seconal, to knock him out. It may not be what actually happened, but it makes for a compelling narrative.
Told in a series of flashbacks, each introduced with screenplay notes, it shifts back and forth between the writing of the script and the cynical, dishevelled Mankiewicz’s self-sabotaging drunken antics as, the court jester, he acerbically wisecracks his way around tinsel town, and, especially Metro Goldwyn Mayer studios, headed up by the manipulative Louis B. Mayer (Arliss Howard). Mayer tolerates his behaviour until it threatens the studio’s relationship with newspaper magnate Randolph William Hearst (Charles Dance) who, of course, served as the template for the film’s publishing giant Charles Foster Kane.
An affectionate (poison pen) love letter to old Hollywood, it balances the playful and mischievous (a bunch of writers improvising a Frankenstein plot to David O. Selznick) with the much darker side, notably Mank’s fury at learning, between them, the ultra-conservative Meyer and Hearst had, in California’s 1934 gubernatorial election, authorised fake newsreel footage to discredit socialist candidate Upton Sinclair, its fictional director Shelly Metcalf unable to live with what he did. All of which, of course, fed into the screenplay.
It’s a stellar cast with luminous performances from Amanda Seyfield as Marion Davies, a Hollywood comedienne star and the trophy girlfriend of the much older Hearst, who wanted to transform her into as dramatic actress, and with whom Mankiewicz has a platonic romance, alongside Tuppence Middleton as Mank’s long-suffering wife ‘Poor’ Sara, and Tom Pelphrey as his more successful brother Joe. However, it’s Oldman who magnetises the screen with his energy as the dissolute, at times bitter, at others compassionate, erratic genius, falling foul of Welles when, going against their contract, he declares, that he wants a credit, something that sees him almost bumped off the project. The film won one Oscar, Best Screenplay, shared between Mankiewicz and Welles, neither of whom was there to accept, the final moments of Fincher’s film playing out the interview where Mank delivered a brilliant last word on the matter. (Netflix)
The Map of Tiny Perfect Things (12)
A sort of teenage Groundhog Day (to which it makes frequent reference), adapted by Lev Grossman from his 2016 short story, Kyle Allen stars as Mark, a 17-year-old aspiring art student, who shares his home with a younger sister (Cleo Fraser), a workaholic mother he rarely sees and a father (Josh Hamilton) who, apparently, quit work to work on a Civil War the answers to dad’s crossword puzzle. He can also cycle through town preventing mishaps before they occur.
That’s because he’s living the same day over and over, resetting like rewinding videocassette, but only he knows it. The advantage is that he can work on different ways to attract the attention of girl (Anna Mikami) to whom he gave directions before she asked when he next meets her at the local pool and stop a ball from hitting her. Until, that is, another girl disrupts the pattern by catching it. Fascinated, he starts to follow her. This is Margaret (Kathryn Newton), she dreams of working for NASA, has a thing about the fourth dimension and is stuck in the same “temporal anomaly”.
Although, initially, she’s not interested, he persists and eventually they start to hang out and decide to ‘collect’ all the small moments, the ‘perfect things’ that happen to people over the course of the day each time it resets: an old lady dancing for joy at winning cards, an eagle swooping on a lake to catch a fish, bikers stopping traffic for a turtle to cross the road, working on the belief that once he’s mapped them all the anomaly will cease and normal time resume.
However, for some reason, Margaret refuses to divulge any personal information, is unwilling to progress the friendship into romance and always has to leave at 6pm to take phone call from a hunky doctor named Jared. There’s a particularly poignant explanation that Mark eventually stumbles on and which explains why she’s in no hurry to close the loop, the film gradually showing him learning not to be blinkered to what’s happening to people other than himself, such as the real reason’s dad’s not at work and, as such, the film carries a certain message as well.
It doesn’t all work, scenes with Mark’s videogamer best friend Henry (Jermaine Harris) feel surplus and his constructing a moon trip experience for Margaret in the school gym is just a little too cheesily cute, but, thanks to the chemistry between the two leads, the emotional punch of the third act and the sheer charm, it’s a loop you’ll be happy to put on repeat. (Amazon Prime)
The Mauritanian (15)
On Nov 20, 2001, recently returned from an electrical engineering scholarship in Germany, Mohamedou Ould Salahi left a wedding reception in his native Mauritania in north-west Africa to accompany the local police for questioning by them and the FBI regarding the planned millennium attack plots earlier that year. He did not return home until Oct 17, 2016. Alleged to have been the chief recruiter for 9/11 ( he had been part of Al Qaeda in the fight against the Russians in Afghanistan, alongside America, but had severed ties), for fourteen of these years he was held in at the US facility at Guantanamo Bay in Cuba, all evidence against him entirely circumstantial (a cousin once called him from Osama Bin Laden’s phone) and without any charge ever being made against him.
In 2005, Nancy Hollander, a defence attorney specialising in human rights, and her associate Teri Duncan travelled from their New Mexico offices to Gitmo to meet with Salahi with a view to representing him, thus beginning a long legal pro bono battle to bring a case of habeas corpus, forever obstructed by the US government in obtaining access to vital documents, that did not come before the US court until 2010.
Now, based on Salahi’s best-selling memoir, Guantanamo Diary, compiled from his letters written from Gitmo to Hollander, director Kevin McDonald brings that story to the screen in a compelling serious-minded procedural drama that adroitly casts Jodie Foster as Hollander alongside Tahar Rahim as Salahi with Shailene Woodley as Teri Duncan and Benedict Cumberbatch as plays the devoutly religious Lt Col Stuart Couch who was given the job of prosecuting “the al Qaeda Forrest Gump” and (a friend having been killed in 9/11) was initially gung ho for the death penalty until he discovered exactly what the US government had been keeping quiet about the treatment of detainees and then refused to continue, declaring that while someone had to pay, it should not just be anyone.
It’s a straightforward telling of events, Hollander and Duncan navigating a minefield of military red tape, redacted documents, and government hostility, travelling back and forth to question the incredibly resilient Salahi who never loses his capacity to smile, as layer by layer the deceptions are peeled away to reveal the truth behind his confessions about his involvement as, in a harrowing flashback montage the horrific 70 uninterrupted days of torture, authorised by Donald Rumsfeld, he underwent at American hands are finally shown. Other flashbacks, to happier times with his family and his childhood also punctuate the drama, further compounding the travesty of justice he suffered, Hollander’s victory as much about defending the process of law and justice as defending a wrongly accused man. Even so, after the prosecution case was thrown out, Salahi remained at Guantánamo for a further six years on the orders of the Obama government. A film that stirs indignation about the way the US government trampled justice, human right, moral principles and the most basic humanity underfoot in a quest for vengeance, it’s perhaps brilliantly summed up in a throwaway shot at Gitmo where it was deemed acceptable to brutalise the detainees but a sing warns there’s a hefty fine for harming an iguana. (Amazon Prime)
A loosely autobiographical drama about Korean immigrants in the rural US inspired by writer-director Lee Isaac Chung’s childhood, it stars Steven Yuen as Jacob who, as the film starts, moves his wife Monica (Yeri Han) and their two young kids, Anne (Noel Cho) and David (the scene-stealingly cute and wise Alan S. Kim), her young brother with a weak heart, from California to live in a secondhand mobile home, propped up on cinder blocks in the middle of nowhere Arkansas, using the money saved from years working sexing chickens in the city.
The family’s not best impressed, but while they work in the local chicken hatchery, Jacob’s determined to turn the accompanying land into a farm, growing Korean vegetables to sell for his fellow ex-pats yearning for a taste of home. The soil, he tells his wife, is perfect. Unfortunately, the water supply isn’t. But with the help of eccentric Pentecostal field hand Paul (Will Patton), things initially seem to be starting to look up. Until Jacob’s dream starts hoovering up all their savings. And then, to keep his wife sweet, he agrees for her mother (BAFTA winner Youn Yuh Jung) to join them, the kids, who have become Americanised, not overly thrilled by the strange foods their mischievous Grandma brings with her. David, who has to share a room, reckons she smells Korean and takes exception to her embarrassing him about his bedwetting issues (he gets his revenge in wickedly funny way). She does, however, bring with her the water celery seeds of the title that she sows in the nearby creek, a versatile crop that (serving as the film’s metaphor) can grow anywhere.
As Jacob’s American Dream falls apart around him and the promised land increasingly becomes less so, so does it impact on family life and the marriage, the film never overplaying the way the fault lines develop and keeping a strong focus on the interaction of the characters making its emotional impact honestly earned. (Amazon Prime, Apple TV, Google Play, Vudu, YouTube; Empire Great Park; Everyman)
Miss Juneteenth (15)
It’ll mean nothing here, but it’s a big deal in Texas where Juneteenth marks the end of slavery on June 19th, 1865, two years after Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation. It’s around this celebration and the Miss Juneteenth Pageant that first-time writer/director Channing Godfrey Peoples bases her mother-daughter drama set in Fort Worth and with an almost exclusively African-American cast. Each year local teenagers compete for the title, the winner receiving a scholarship to the historically Black university of her choice.
Fifteen years ago, single mother Turquoise Smith (Nicole Beharie) was crowned, but unintended pregnancy meant she was unable to take up her prize. Now, semi-estranged from her mechanic baby father Ronnie (Kendrick Sampson), although he still calls round for some TLC, she’s struggling with debt and working two, waitressing at the shabby Wayman’s BBQ & Lounge, as a cosmetician at a funeral home where its owner (Akron Watson) has both plans for expansion and romantic aspirations. All this is to earn the money she needs to pay for the expensive pageant fees and dress so that her daughter, Kai (Alexis Chikaeze) can follow in her footsteps and take up the opportunity she couldn’t. Kai, however, would rather be part of her school’s competitive dance team that having to study the old school etiquette contestants are supposed to master, supervised by the very organiser (Phyllis Cicero). And hanging out with a disreputable boyfriend is a no no.
Matters are further complicated by Turq’s brittle relationship with her alcoholic ultra-religious mother (Lori Hayes) who heads up the local church and hasn’t forgiven her youthful indiscretion or an earlier choice of employment about which Kai remains ignorant. Then, just as she’s getting together enough cash to pay off the $800 dress she’s got reserved, Ronnie winds up needing bail money.
With both mother and daughter determined to follow their own path of self-determination, a clash is inevitable, but its credit to both actresses and People’s screenplay that this never feels contrived and plays out with a genuine emotional heft, subtly laced with observations about what it’s like to be Black, and especially a Black woman, in the South, climaxing with Kai’s transfixing performance of Maya Angelou’s Phenomenal Woman at the competition final. It’s a very limited release, but well worth seeking out. (Amazon Prime, BFI Player)
The Mitchells v The Machines (PG)
Produced by Phil Lord and Christopher Miller who directed The Lego Movie and 22 Jump Street and produced Into The Spider-Verse and the other Lego movies with writer-director team Mike Rianda and Jeff Rowe making their feature debut (with characters based on their own family members), this is hugely entertaining fun animation with a solid message about embracing your inner weirdo and a cautionary tale about letting technology control you rather than the other way around.
When Mark Bowman, head of an Apple-like tech company, introduces his latest invention, an upgrade white humanoid robot servant version of his AI smartphone assistant, he’s not prepared for the Siri-like PAL (voiced by Olivia Colman) to take revenge for being consigned to history by taking control of the robots (who resemble Star Wars’ battle droids) and, Terminator-style, setting out to rid the planet of all humans. She’s not, however, reckoned on the Mitchells.
An oddball family headed up by technophobe Rick (Danny McBride), who wishes everyone would leave their cellphones for at least a few minutes and actually talk to each other round the dinner table, and super-positive wife Linda (Maya Rudolph), they have two kids, young dinosaur-obsessed Aaron (Rianda) who randomly calls people in the phone book to talk about them, and teenage Katie (Abbi Jacobson), an aspiring filmmaker who, on the back of her home videos featuring their cross-eyed pug Monchi, has landed a place at film school in California. However, her relationship with her dad is prickly since he just doesn’t get her and, for reasons explained later, tends to speak of potential failure rather than potential success.
Trying to make up for his comments and behaviour, Rick arranges to take the whole family on a road trip to Katie’s college in their battered orange station wagon and, stopping off at a rundown dinosaur attraction en route, they find themselves at the centre of the worldwide robot attack, rounding up humans and sending them off to their Silicon Valley HQ in flaying green boxes. And so it is the Mitchells end up as the last humans not in captivity and, with the aid of two robots (Fred Armisen, Beck Bennett) whose programming has been send into a spin by being unable to decide if Monchie is a dog, a pig or a loaf of bread, they set out to save the world.
It’s a silly and as anarchic as it sounds and all concerned revel in the opportunity to go wild, both in the use of the animation, which at times includes real YouTube clips as well as cartoon drawings of the family and their escapades, and in a non-stop barrage of gags, none of which miss the target, along with any number of energetic action sequences, including a show down with the world’s biggest Furby in a shopping mall and Linda letting loose her inner Mulan against PAL’s killer robots.
Never losing sight of its central theme of family bonds, father-daughter in particular, it rattles along with unflagging energy and a support cast that includes John Legend and Chrissy Teigen as the Mitchells’ supercool neighbours, this is an absolute joy. (Netflix)
Mortal Kombat (15)
Another unsubtle action outing to let off all the pent up tensions, this is the latest attempt to translate the classic video game into a big screen franchise, one that, in the hand of first-time feature director Simon McQuoid, fares rather better than the misbegotten Paul W Anderson 1995 version starring Christopher Lambert and its equally poor sequel Annihilation. It’s also about a hundred times more violent and bloody as it juggles the silliness with the po-faced seriousness.
Set in a universe divided into several realms, such as Earthrealm and Outworld, in which chosen warriors compete in a tournament called Mortal Kombat with the fate if Earth as the stakes, it opens in 17th-century Japan where famed warrior Scorpion (Hiroyuki Sanada) is killed by his arch-rival Sub-Zero (Joe Taslim), after first turning his wife and young son to ice. However, hidden before the attack, his baby daughter is rescued by glowing eyed Thunder god Lord Raiden (Tadanobu Asano). Cut, then, to the present day and Cole an orphaned and wholly successful cage fighter with a wife and young daughter who’s understandably taken aback to learn he’s of Scorpion’s bloodline (which may explain those visions he keeps getting) and, sporting the iconic birthmark, has been chosen to be Earth’s champion in the upcoming tournament. This throws him together with obnoxious Australian mercenary Kano (Josh Lawson), Special Forces femme fatale (but as yet mark-free) Sonya Blade (Jessica McNamee) and, although he’s part dismembered by Sub-Zero in the early scenes, her colleague Jax (Mehcad Brooks) , who are taken off to Lord Raiden’s desert temple to train under fireball throwing Liu Kang (Ludi Lin) and Kung Lao (Max Huang), who wears a flying buzzsaw for a hat , who seek to unleash their hidden powers before they are pitted against four-armed goliath Goro, blood-thirsty Mileena (Sisi Stringer) with her Joker-like slash of a mouth, the robotically enhanced Kabal and, of course, Sub-Zero, who serve evil Outworld sorcerer Shang Tsung (Chin Han), in the crucial tenth tournament with the fate of Earth up for grabs.
While it may be confusing for non-devotees to keep up and fathom out the what and why, it’s at least never subtle, what with any number of gratuitously gory deaths, including someone sliced in half by a buzzsaw and knives tearing into flesh, the narrative largely consisting of an endless stream of fight sequences punctuated by bickering between the champions and assorted cod philosophising for those with slightly longer attention spans.
Ultimately a violent 100 minute set-up for the sequel (a poster introducing the next game character), it’s junk food moviemaking, it satisfies a need while you consume it, but you’ll have forgotten the taste before the credits end. (Cineworld 5 Ways, NEC; Empire Great Park; Odeon Birmingham, Broadway Plaza Luxe, West Brom; Reel; Vue)
Originally a 2015 two-woman feminist play written and performed by Canadians Norah Sadava and Amy Nostbakken, after debuting on the festival circuit three years ago, director Patricia Rozema’s expanded adaptation with more characters makes a long overdue wider appearance with the two women reprising their roles (they also composed the music) as twin sisters dealing with their mother’s (Maev Beaty) sudden death from a stroke (she tried to ring them and left a rambling voice mail but they’d crashed out after a night partying) and the funeral eulogy. Except they aren’t sisters, they’re both two aspects of the same woman, 30-year-old writer Cassandra, Nostbakken the real, tall, sour faced one and the smaller, sweeter Sadava a projection of her inner voice.
Declaring that she will deliver the eulogy, not her brother as proposed, the film charts Cassandra’s attempt to reconcile herself with her mother’s memory, herself a writer who gave up a career to raise a family, her ambivalence about her decision clearly having rubbed off on her anxiety-ridden daughter who both resents (she was a doormat) and respects (she was a hardass) her and her submission to and institutionalized misogyny. As such, there’s several flashbacks to various aspects and episodes of Elaine’s life, most memorably a highly symbolic scene where she drops her latest manuscript into a tureen of soup she’s made for the kids, although that’s rivalled when Cassandra visits the funeral parlour to pick out a coffin and the ‘two’ of them try one out for size and comfort.
Addressing everything from eating French fries in public to the objectification of women, the two leads balancing out Cassandra’s different duties as the funeral approaches, it’s a clever and moving piece of art cinema, Rozema making effective use of mirrors while the actresses often move and speak in unison and even including an imagined dance routine eulogy. All that and an amusing discussion about the ridiculousness of control-top tights. (Amazon Prime, CHILI, Curzon Home Cinema, Google Play, iTunes, Rakuten TV, Sky Store, TalkTalk TV, Virgin Movies)
Directed by and featuring Amy Poehler, this is an engaging high school dramedy with a fairly light touch that pivots around a theme of female empowerment in the face of institutionalised sexism and male chauvinism. BFF with Claudia (Lauren Tsai), equally introverted Oregon junior year student Vivian (Hadley Robinson) has her radical streak awakened with the arrival of African-American new girl Lucy (Alycia Pascual-Peña) who, after arguing they should be reading more contemporary relevant books than The Great Gatsby, is immediately targeted for bullying by the obnoxious boorish Mitchell (Patrick Schwarzenegger) whose behaviour is tolerated by the don’t rock the boat school principal (Marcia Gay Harden) as he’s the star of the school’s showcase football team, even though the underfunded girls’ team are far better players.
Following a show piece game during which everyone’s texted an anonymous list ranking students in derogatory terms of things like Best Ass, Best Rack, Most Bangable, Designated Drunk and Future MILF in which Lucy’s particularly subjected to vitriol, motivated by the outspoken Lucy’s defiant attitude and inspired by her own mom’s (Poehler) teenage riot grrrl rebel past (emblemised by dancing around to Bikini Kill’s Rebel Girl), Vivian puts together a photocopied zine she titles Moxie (a favourite word of the principal’s) attacking Mitchell and the school’s misogynistic climate anonymously distributing it around campus.
It’s an immediate hit with the other girls who’ve spent their school life as basically extras in a film starring the boys, inspiring many to equally take stand against the sexism (such as one being sent home for wearing tank top that highlighted her bosom) and, Vivian prompted to produce a second issue (presumably she has unlimited funding to pay for all this) and Moxie quickly becomes a movement.
Interlaced with this is a friendship crisis with Claudia, who feels sidelined by Lucy and whose strict mother keeps her from joining in the protests, and a budding romance with impeccably woke pro-feminist classmate Seth (Nico Hiraga), the only one who becomes aware she’s the one behind the zine. There’s also a minor subplot involving her discovering mom’s own new romance with that nice guy they met in the supermarket (Clark Gregg) that prompts a diner table tantrum in the wake of Vivian’s questioning her own self and values and that feminist revolution requires more than good intentions.
In variously tackling diversity, bully, sexism, the patriarchy and, in the final stretch, rape, while there’s some funny, snappy dialogue and Ike Barinholtz is amusing as the amiable, quietly supportive English class teacher, it perhaps inevitably lacks the wider humour of similar films such as Booksmart, Mean Girls (in which Poehler also played a cool mom) and Election. But nor is it overly earnest in putting across its message, leaving the narrative with poignancy and sweetness in equal measure while dutifully checking the dance scene, clothes shopping and other genre staple boxes.
Backed by a solid ensemble cast of characters from a variety of gender, ethnic and socioeconomic backgrounds that allows individual personalities to shine through, Robinson and Pascual-Peña deliver knockout performances while Poehler ensures the energy and emotional thrust never flag, resulting in an inspirational and entertaining film that speaks not only to its intended teenage girls youth audience but all women who live under the pressure of a culture of toxic masculinity. (Netflix)
Working from the 1998 animation as well as the Hua Mulan legend on which that was based, but minus the song and, thankfully, the sidekick dragon (though there is an ever-present phoenix, the family’s totem, climaxing in a particularly striking visual moment), Niki Caro’s magnificent Disney live-action remake opens with the young Mulan (Crystal Rao), living with her younger sister Xiu (Elena Askin), flapping mother (Rosalind Chao) and lame war hero father (Tzi Mah), practising her martial arts skills much to dad’s pride and mum’s annoyance who reckons she should act like other girls and bring honour to the family as a dutiful wife.
Fast forward several years as the now teen Mulan (Liu Yifei) unintentionally causes havoc as the village matchmaker is trying to teach her grace and deportment, at which point an emissary from the Emperor (an unrecognisable Jet Li) arrives to inform that each family must supply one man to join the army in fighting against the marauding Bori Khan (Jason Scott Lee) who, abetted by a powerful shape-shifting witch (Zang Yimou’s muse and Oscar-nominated Farewell My Concubine star Gong Li) is laying waste the country in revenge for the death of his father at the Emperor’s hands.
Having no son, despite his injured leg and failing health, Mulan’s father offers himself as a recruit. However, fearing for his life, she steals his sacred sword and armour and, disguising herself as a boy, rides off to join the Imperial Army under the name of Hua Jun. Then, following an assortment of impressive combat training scenes and her determined efforts to not be revealed as a girl (the punishment for which would be death or, at best disgrace), as Khan sweeps all before him, the film builds to its exciting climax as she finally casts off her disguise, accepts her true self and becomes the legendary warrior who saves the Emperor and China.
Her first leading role in a major Hollywood film, Liu is the film’s heart and soul, struggling with the deception she is practising but also tapping into her inner chi to become the warrior events need, the moment she rides into battle, her armour gone, hair now down and flowing, is a breathtaking scene. She’s well served by an impressive support cast too, headed up by Donnie Yen as the imposing high ranking Commander Tung, her cadre of fellow soldiers (and often comic support), the hapless Cricket, Ling, Yao, Chien-Po and, most importantly Chen Honghui (Yoson An) who serves as Mulan’s eventual ally and romantic interest. Sporting scars and a ferocious beard, Lee makes for a powerful, driven and resourceful villain while Gong Li shines as the ambiguous sorceress – and Mulan’s dark counterpart who seeks to have her join forces – whose motivations underpin the film’s misogynistic themes of men’s fear and suppression of powerful women. There’s also a cameo appearance by Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s Ming Na-Yen who, of course, was the voice of Mulan in the original animation.
Glowing with an emotional depth to match its electrifying combat scenes, which involve twirling in mid-air, running up walls and other acrobatic feats, it’s an exhilarating and involving spectacle likely to induce cheers in the living room. (Disney +)
News Of The World (12)
Set in 1870, five years after the Civil War, Tom Hanks makes his Western debut, reuniting with director Paul Greengrass for a film that evokes True Grit and The Searchers minus the racism, Hanks plays Capt. Jefferson Kyle Kidd, a former Confederate infantryman who, before the war, ran a newspaper printing company and now, that swept away and, traumatised by what he’s seen and done, has left his wife behind to travel, unarmed save for a rifle that shoots only birdshot, from one Texas town to another, eking out a living –perhaps finding atonement – by giving lively readings from newspapers to bring his audience, still hurting from the war, stories of events from far and wide as they’re called on to be part of the recovery effort.
En route to his next stop, he comes across a wrecked wagon and a trail of blood leading to a tree from where a lynched Black man hangs, tagged with a note that reads “Texas Says No! This is White Man’s Country.” A movement gets his attention and he chases down what proves to be a 10-year-old girl who, it transpires, was being transported, against her will, to her aunt and uncle’s hill country farm hundreds of miles away near San Antonio having been abducted and raised by Kiowa Indians after her settler family were killed six years ago, now orphaned a second time with her Kiowa parents killed by soldiers as part of the reservations being cleared to pave the way for the Pacific Railroad.
The girl’s named Johanna (Helena Zengel), but, while German, now only speaks Kiowa. Instructed by passing soldiers to take her to the Indian Agency representative at Red River, he’s informed he can either take her home himself or wait for the Agent to return. Having no experience in caring for a child, initially seeking to offload her to a shopkeeper couple (Ray McKinnon, Mare Winningham), the feral girl proves too much of a handful and, learning more of her background via kindly Dallas innkeeper Mrs. Gannett (Elizabeth Marvel) speaks some Kiowa, he resolves to ensure she’s safely reunited with her relatives.
And so begins a long incident packed journey as the unlikely companions grow to understand more about each other and the differences in the cultures in which they were raised (she learns about forks, he learns about connection to the natural world), forging a bond and reciprocal trust. Their trip’s variously punctuated by run ins with, first a predatory former Confederate soldier (Michael Angelo Covino) and his sidekicks who offer to buy her off Kydd and won’t take no for an answer, leading to a tense shootout in the bluffs (Kydd armed with only a gifted revolver).
That’s followed by an encounter with a lawless settlement of renegades presided over by the cruel racist despot Farley (Thomas Francis Murphy), who insists Kydd read from his own self-aggrandising (fake) newsletter and takes umbrage when, instead, he cannily delivers an inspirational account of striking miners rising up against their exploitative taskmasters. And, of course, eventually, after a stopover to the site of her family’s murder, they inevitably cross paths with the Kiowa, though this plays out far differently and far more hauntingly sad than you might have expected, before finally arriving at the farm, where he leaves her to return and make things right with his wife.
Naturally, given the way things have been set up and the relationship that’s developed, the film has one final predictable chapter that, while sentimental, speaks eloquently of family, love and healing. Essentially a two-hander, playing a man of moral decency is no stretch for Hanks, but his soulful, quietly understated performance never feels rote while Zengel, who only gets to speak a few words of English, is superlative, conveying depths of emotion with her eyes and facial gestures. There’s a brief but memorable turn too from Fred Hechinger as a slow-witted member of Farley’s crew whose eyes and good heart are opened by Kydd’s readings and Johanna’s plight. Needless to say, the landscape is stunning.
Arriving at a time that calls for national divisions to be repaired and the value of the news media has been brought into question, its message of making connections, putting the past behind and moving forward to find peace needed now more than ever. (Netflix)
The triumphant winner of Best Film, Director and Actress at the Oscars, adapted from Jessica Bruder’s non-fiction Nomadland: Surviving America in the Twenty-First Century, this ever bit a slow burn, spare, quasi-documentary style work as Chloé Zhao’s previous film The Rider. Echoing the title, it kind of drifts and meanders without a clear destination in sight, but it’s the journey not the arriving that makes it so extraordinary.
Frances McDormand is Fern, recently widowed, a former substitute teacher and a victim of the economic downturn in Empire, Nevada, the local gypsum works being forced the close and the town even having its post code discontinued. As such, she’s made houseless, but not homeless, taking to the road with a few possessions, including the china plates her father collected, in her camper van, which she names Vanguard, living an itinerant life along with a nomadic, largely, elderly community of likeminded and similarly affected souls, working zero hours contracts in Amazon warehouses or burgers bars to make money for food and gas, moving on – in Fern’s case to Arizona – when the demand or the weather changes.
In her early sixties, she’s a flinty and determined oddball, never given to self-pity, kindly and compassionate to those she meets in need of comfort or whatever help she can offer, receiving their kindness in return. Most notably among them are David (David Strathairn), a kindly senior citizen with a strained relationship with his son back home and who offers the possibly of something more than friendship, and, Linda May who first brings her into the nomadic community by inviting her to the regular Rubber Tramp Rendezvous meetup and has found escape from despair through life on the road. She, like pretty much everyone else in the film including, the group’s leader, Bob Wells (who has a heartbreaking backstory), all featured as part of Bruder’s book, are playing themselves.
There’s very little by way of a drama (a flat tyre, an accident with a cardboard box), the film essentially a collection of small, naturalistic scenes punctuated here and there by monologues of wisdom (memorably one of ineffable beauty by a character named Swankie), some moving confessionals, a reunion and, for Fern, a slow emerging from the grief that, while she’s physically on the move, has held her in emotional stasis.
The political commentary on contemporary America is never in your face, but you always feel its subtle presence as Zhao crafts an almost dreamlike experience that, capturing a little seen American landscape with visual poetry, never forces or manipulates your response to of feelings for the characters or their broken dreams, who are defined by joy rather than sadness, although it’s fair to say the third act, which has her returning home to ask her sister for a loan and visiting David now back with his family feels more narratively hands on. But even so, this is an exquisite snapshot of an unseen America that will seep into your soul and linger for months. (Disney + Star; Everyman; MAC; Cineworld 5 Ways; Odeon Birmingham, Broadway Plaza Luxe)
The Old Guard (15)
Following on from Mad Max and Atomic Blonde, Charlize Theron further underscores her cool action movie persona as Ancient Greece warrior Andromache of Scythia aka Andy, the head of a small group of immortal mercenaries that also comprises Booker (Matthias Schoenaerts), who gained immortality after dying in the Napoleonic Wars and Joe (Marwan Kenzari) and Nicky (Luca Marinelli) who became gay lovers while fighting on opposing sides in the Crusades. Keeping a low profile so as not to attract attention to themselves, they’ve fought on the side of right through the centuries, to which end, brought back together after a year apart, although, disillusioned by humanity’s continued inability to redeem itself, she declares “The world can burn for all I care”, she’s persuaded by former CIA operative Copley (Chiwetel Ejiofor) to rescue 17 schoolchildren abducted in South Sudan.
However, this turns out to be a set up aimed at capturing them and harvesting their DNA engineered by pharmaceuticals CEO Merrick (Harry Melling, unrecognisable from his role as Harry Potter’s Dudley Dursley) who claims he wants to end cognitive decline, but whose actual motives are rather less altruistic.
The corporate villain has become something of a cliché and the film, self-adapted by Greg Ruckahich from his graphic novels and which sees director Gina Prince-Bythewood spreading her wings after romantic dramas, never seems as assured in the basic plot framework as it does in handling the character interplay and the action sequences.
The quartet are soon joined by a fifth member, American Marine Nile Freeman (KiKi Layne) who, much to her confusion and the unease of her fellow soldiers, recovers from a fatal neck-wound in Afghanistan without so much as a scar. A psychic bond between fellow immortals leads to Andy rescuing her from the military base and, after a mano a mano fight aboard a transport plane, recruiting her to the cause, though she remains understandably freaked out about the whole set-up.
Not that, with Merrick’s paramilitary squad on their tail, anyone has a great deal of time to sit around reflecting on the cost of immortality and rapid healing, and never knowing when your time will be up. The character depth is thickened by the revelation that Andy is haunted by guilt over the fate of her first fellow immortal, Quynh (Van Veronica Ngo) following their capture during the witchcraft trials.
As such, the film jumps around from Africa and Southern Asia to rural Paris as the group elude pursuit and seek to track down Copley before, after a betrayal and two abductions for experimentation, it all climaxes in an extended shoot-out at Mannix’s London HQ.
Dressed in black (though flashbacks have her in Amazonian armour) with a bob-cut, Theron strides confidently through the film, delivering action and conflicted character complexity and psychological baggage with equal skill, and she’s well-supported by her four peers, Layne especially strong while Schoenaerts provides soulful melancholia and Kenzari and Marinelli introduce a degree of humour and tenderness.
With one of the group apparently losing their immortality and a six months later end credits scene that sets up further mystery and intrigue, this is clearly envisioned as an ongoing narrative, both as high octane action and exploring what it means to be human; it most certainly deserves a sequel. (Netflix)
One Night in Miami (15)
On February 25, 1964, cocky 22-year-old Cassius Clay defeated Sonny Liston in Miami to become the world heavyweight champion. The race laws being he was unable to celebrate in the white part of town, he drove to the Hampton House Hotel in a black neighbourhood where he planned to party with his friends, singer Sam Cooke, NFL star Jim Brown and Nation of Islam spokesman Malcolm X. The latter, understandably paranoid and troubled, accompanied by his two bodyguards, had booked a room, but, ice cream the only refreshment, partying was the last thing on his mind. Adapted by Kemp Powers from his acclaimed 2013 play and marking the feature directorial debut of Oscar-winning actress Regina King, the film imagines what might have down in the room that night, the X (British rising star Kingsley Ben-Adir) laying into Cooke (Leslie Odom Jr., who does his own singing), fresh from a humiliating experience of being ignored by the all-white audience for his Copacabana show, for not using his music to speak of social – and specifically black – issues (holding up Dylan’s Blowing In The Wind as a role model), but rather selling out to the white pop market.
The night also sees Clay (Eli Goree) announce that he’s becoming a Muslim, but later accuses his mentor of using him to further his own agenda, while Brown (Aldis Hodge), who’s seen earlier experiencing racism when a Georgia grandee (Beau Bridges), a self-declared supporter and admirer, won’t let him past the porch because “we don’t let niggers in the house”, talks about how he’s looking to run a parallel career in the movies. It turns into an evening of confrontations and discussions about racism, politics and black responsibilities, each man with their own insecurities, all of them on the edge of making a transition in their lives (Clay becoming Muhammed Ali, X quitting the Nation to form his own movement, Brown retiring from football, Cooke famously appearing on Johnny Carson to sing Change Is Gonna Come, the lost footage recreated here) and examining who they actually are.
It’s heavily dialogue driven, but the performances, Ben-Adir the engine, ensure it’s never dry or lacking in dynamic, while X’s suspicions about some white men he things are following him, his call home to his wife in Detroit to reassure her and a scene of them being firebombed all add to the tension and atmosphere, but there is also room for humour, be it Clay’s preening narcissism or one of the bodyguards’ fanboy request for autographs. Knowingly theatrical, although opened up with a prologue where Clay’s beaten by Henry Cooper and with several scenes beyond the room’s four walls, but never stagey, it raises still highly charged issues and leaves you, as with its four icons, pondering how to address them. (Amazon Prime)
Palm Springs (15)
Yet another Groundhog Day variation, one which, like The Map of Tiny Perfect Things, has two (in fact three) people trapped in the time loop. The prime mover is Nyles (Andy Samberg) , a depressed nihilist slacker dressed in shorts and Bermudian shirt who’s reliving over and over the Palm Springs wedding day to which he was invited as his girlfriend Misty’s (Meredith Hagner) plus one, even though they clearly don’t like another. Early on, well aware of what has happened/will happen, he hijacks the speech of the bride’s cynical black sheep sister Sarah (Cristin Milioti) and the pair slip away into the desert. They’re just about to make out when he’s shot with an arrow by a mysterious archer and struggles into a cave in the mountains, telling Sarah not to follow him. She does and finds herself also in the loop, created by quantum physics forces unleashed during a fissure in the desert. Now, she too wakes up on the same day and, like Nyles, remembers what happened yesterday (and all the yesterdays), and is not best pleased. Especially when she learns that even dying simply resets the clock.
However, what starts off as a fractious relationship naturally slowly becomes a more romantic one as they constantly relive time together, and, as the narrative develops, we learn more about her own part in the wedding day and where she wakes up every morning. And, herein, lies the free-wheeling romcom’s message of personal growth as Nyles’ nihilism gradually dissolves as he realises that life is only meaningless if you don’t have someone to share it with. And actually want to.
With J. K. Simmons as the bow-packing Roy, who was himself drunkenly lured into the cave by Nyles and now wants revenge for his ruined life (a scene late in the film movingly shows the family life he’ll no longer share for more than 24 hours), it’s breezy, silly and at times quite raunchy with Samberg and Mulioti trading snappy banter and sharing a rather fine dance sequence in a biker bar. Well worth waking up and watching over again. (Amazon Prime)
Penguin Bloom (PG)
In 2013, holidaying with her photographer husband Cam (Andrew Lincoln) and three young sons in Thailand, Sam Bloom (Naomi Watts), a 41-year-old from Sydney with a love of surfing, swimming and bicycling, fell 20 foot when a rotten wooden rail on a tower balcony gave way, leaving her paraplegic below the chest, confined to bed and a wheelchair.
Shortly after returning from hospital, back home in Australia, her eldest son, Noah (Griffin Murray-Johnston) found an injured baby magpie and took it back to the house to be cared for, naming it Penguin on account of its black and white colouring. In pain and consumed with depression at feeling she was now worth nothing, especially as mother, Sam was initially reluctant to have any involvement, but was eventually won over by the bird’s persistence and charisma, becoming engaged in looking after it (if she couldn’t care for the kids, she could care for the bird) until it was able to fly and, as such, finding inspiration to rise above her own injuries and take metaphorical wing herself.
Based on Bloom’s own story as told in the book of the same title by Cameron Bloom and Bradley Trevor Greive, narrated by Noah, who provides the backstory and exposition, the film isn’t subtle about its symbolism (at one point she pushes a jar of honey – the family kept bees – on to the floor representing her shattered life), but its story of a family recovering from tragedy – including Noah’s feeling of guilt for taking his mother up the tower –and is believably told without melodrama or sentimentality and, aided greatly but the beautiful Australian scenery has both charm and inspiration with a wide appeal, while the performances, which include Jacqi Weaver as Sam’s mother, are solid throughout.
Although often upstaged by the various birds playing Penguin who have an endearing cheeky charm as they squawk and totter round the house, bonding with one of the boys’ raggy dolls and snuggling up to Sam (which actually happened),Watts is especially good as the woman who goes from the depths of despair to finding meaning in her new life, eventually persuaded to take up kayaking and, as the end credits tell us, going on to represent Australia in the para canoeing and para surfing world championships and winning gold in 2018 and 2020 at the World Para Surfing Championships. (Netflix)
Pieces Of A Woman (15)
The English language debut of Hungarian director Kórnel Mundruczó and screenwriter Kata Wéber, who share joint credit, this is a sober melodrama which, told in chapters, each some months apart, makes effective visually metaphorical use of a Boston bridge gradually coming together even as the characters at the heart of the story grow ever apart.
They are rough round the edges but supportive white collar construction worker Sean (Shia LaBeouf) and, from a privileged background, more refined wife Martha (The Crown’s Vanessa Kirby) who, as the film opens are expecting the birth of their first child, a daughter, Martha having decided on a homebirth. It then proceeds through a grimly realistic twenty-three minute unbroken take that captures both the agony and the elation as Martha goes into labour and their elected midwife tied up elsewhere, a substitute, Eva (Molly Parker) arrives and, while at one point telling Sean, to call 911 when the baby seems in distress, eventually delivers their daughter. But then tragedy strikes.
The rest of the film follows the subsequent effects on the marriage, she seemingly in a daze with her emotions shuts down, her sense of identity lost, he, a former addict, slowly falling apart. Matters are not helped by Martha’s imperious domineering Holocaust survivor mother (Ellen Burstyn) who, although she’s never liked Sean, when Martha declares she intends to donate the baby’s body to science (a reaction again the misspelling of Yvette on the gravestone), manipulates him in order to bring sue Eva and bring a court case against her for negligence, the trial providing the film’s last act. Sexually frustrated at home, Sean has an affair with their lawyer (Sarah Snook), who also happen to be Martha’s cousin.
All the performances, which also include Iliza Shlesinger and Benny Safdie as Martha’s sister and car salesman brother-in-law, are strong but it’s Burstyn and an intensely committed Kirby who deliver the masterclass, each with their own spotlight tour de force mother-daughter confrontational moment of which Oscar contender clips are made, the line “if you’d done it my way, you’d be holding your baby in your arms right now” hitting like a hammer blow of insensitivity.
A film about loss, grief and what it can do to people, but, finally, as the bridge is completed, about crossing divides and making connections even if the healing also comes at a cost, one which, the film suggests, would eventually have been paid regardless. The symbolism, the bridge, Martha’s neglected houseplants, her obsession with apples and an attempt (a bit Earth mother) to germinate pips, is a tad overly in your face, but, and despite a contrived dinner part discussion about The White Stripes and an unnecessary tagged on coda to send audiences off on an up note, this if you’ve a taste for Cassavetes or Bergman, this will run sandpaper across your nerves. (Netflix)
Cheerfully sporting its Tarantino and John Michael McDonagh influences, directed by Barnaby Thompson and written by Preston Thompson, this comedy thriller set in Co. Sligo, is great fun. The step-daughter of local drugs baron gangster Dermot O’Brien (Colm Meany), the spunkily ruthless but irresistible Pixie (Olivia Cooke) sets out to avenge her dead mother and score the money she needs to go to San Francisco, setting in motion a plot that involves her new lover Fergus recruiting her ex, Colin (Rory Fleck Byrne), to steal a consignment of MDMA from a syndicate of drug dealing Catholic priests, headed up by her step-father’s old rival, Father McGrath (Alec Baldwin). This leaves the priests dead and, subsequently, the jealous Colin putting a bullet in Fergus’s head, heading off with the bagful of drugs to have words with Pixie and himself ending up in the boot of a car driven by the naïve Harland (newcomer Daryl McCormack) who’s sitting outside her house waiting for his directionless best mate, Frank (Ben Hardy, Roger Taylor in Bohemian Rhapsody) who’s inside supposedly getting shagged. And that’s just the start.
Now they and Pixie find themselves thrown together with Colin’s body in the boot, first trying to offload the drugs to a local dealer’s Dingle-based uncle (Dylan Moran) and then on the run across the county, Pixie’s step-brother, who reckons dad’s lost his grip, looking to bring her down using the family’s pet hitman (Ned Dennehy), before setting up a deal with McGrath that culminates in a rival gangs shoot-out in an abandoned church.
Taking its cue from Westerns, it romps along with a copious supply of blood, violence and knowingly spark dialogue as the various characters seek to outmanoeuvre on another, before you get to the revelation about Pixie’s mother’s death and how it ties everything together. It makes a couple of unnecessary plot detours, such as snogging threeway between Pixie, Frank and in which the latter realise the extent of their bromance, but, putting a fresh spin on some old clichés, it otherwise proves a welcome escapist delight, not least for the sight of a gun toting nun. Father Ted was never like this. It had me at gangster priests. (Amazon Prime)
The Prom (12)
It may not have any especially memorable songs, but, directed by Ryan Murphy, there’s no denying the bouncing off the walls energy that drives this adaptation of the cheesy 2018 Broadway musical in which four faded theatre stars set out to raise their profile by appointing themselves celebrity champions of out lesbian Indiana high schooler Emma (Jo Ellen Pellman), whose declaration that she wants to take her girlfriend to prom, leads the PTA, headed up by the uptight Mrs. Greene (Kerry Washington), to cancel the whole event rather than be accused of homophobia by banning her. What she doesn’t know, of course, is that her daughter, Alyssa (Ariana DeBose), is Emma’s secret lover.
All of which comes to the attention of Broadway diva Dee Dee (Meryl Streep) and her self-absorbed gay co-star Barry (James Cordon) whose latest turkey, Eleanor, based on FR Roosevelt’s crusading wife, has just closed on opening night. Seeing a publicity stunt opportunity to boost their credibility (“We’re gonna help that little lesbian, whether she likes it or not!” sings Barry), they, along with struggling Broadway queen Trent (Andrew Rannells) and perennial chorus girl Angie (Nicole Kidman), board the bus and head to Indiana, sweeping into James Madison High School to declare they’ve come to save the day, Dee Dee bursting into the self-delusional It’s Not About Me.
Knowingly old-fashioned while flying the LGBTQ lag, it revels in swishing through the clichés and its fish out of water narrative (the pampered stars find themselves checked into a hotel with, gasp, no spa, but, like Hairspray, it also has a political thrust, pertinently about a divided America, while at the same time satirising the liberal message movies that itself represents.
About a third in, the plot direction shifts as, while the prom is reinstated (Barry demanding to dress Emma), Mrs Green and her school council cohorts have a devious plan B, one that provides the film with one of its several piercingly emotional moments as it moves into its be true to who you are/tolerance phase, including a touching moment for Barry who didn’t stay at home to be thrown out by his parents when he came out.
The cast, which includes Keegan-Michael Key as the school principal who, a major fan of Dee Dee, provides another romantic interest/redemptive arc, are clearly having a whale of a time, the headliners each getting with their own spotlight turn, notably Rannells telling Emma’s clean-cut, holier-than-thou classmates they can’t cherry pick which parts of the Bible to follow while, otherwise playing things understated, Kidman explodes with her solo showcase Zazz. Unashamedly high camp, Streep and Cordon playing to the hilt, it’s a prom date you don’t want to stand up. (Netflix)
Promising Young Woman (15)
BAFTA winner for Best British Film and Original Screenplay, the feature debut by writer-director Emerald Fennell (a scripter for Killing Eve and who played Camilla Parker-Bowles in The Crown) is also nominated for a raft of Oscars, among them Best Picture, Director and Actress, a deserving nod for Carey Mulligan. She gives a mesmerising performance as Cassie, an emotionally closed-off 30-year-old who once had a bright future as a doctor and now lives with her parents (Jennifer Coolidge, Clancy Brown), who give her a suitcase for her birthday, and works as a barista in a coffee shop manage by her friend (Laverne Cox). By night, however, she hangs out in bars, pretending to be drunk and gets picked up by supposed nice guys who offer to take her home and then try to take advantage of her, at which point she turns on them.
A toxic masculinity rape revenge thriller (though the circumstances are deliberately not made clear until the end as she targets the prime object of her vengeance), told in chapters, it variously has her turning the tables on an opportunistic young professional (Adam Brody), taking a crowbar to an asshole’s pick up truck and electrifying confrontations with the dean of her former med school (Connie Britton( and another lawyer academic (Alfred Molina), both of whom were involved in the aftermath of a group sexual assault on her childhood friend Nina.
She’s also involved with two other characters, a former friend and classmate Madison (Alison Brie) and Ryan (Bo Burnham), a former medical school colleague who’s now a successful paediatrician, with whom she embarks on a romantic relationship. However, both are closely linked to the driving trauma and, as things get progressively darker, her involvement with them is clearly part of her agenda, one that sees her turning up in stripper nurse costume for a stag do.
Lacing the unsettling narrative with dashes of romcom, it keeps you unsure of where it’s heading, making the shockingly unexpected climax all the more jawdropping in its horror and audacity, but also brilliantly laying out Cassie’s careful planning ahead, as the credits play out to track called Last Laugh.
Both consumed with rage, clearly unhinged and wracked with pain, self-loathing and vulnerability, Mulligan is sensational, the film compellingly gathering power and ferocity like some #MeToo Death Wish or Angel of Vengeance that leaves you equally stunned and gratified. (Sky)
A Rainy Day in New York (12)
Arriving on streaming several months after its DVD appearance, originally released in 2019, his 49t film, this isn’t vintage Woody Allen but, set over one rainy day, even so there’s enough of his early years at work to make it an enjoyable engaging and amusing affair. The Allen stand-in here is Timothée Chalomet as Gatsby Welles, the clever if eccentric son of wealthy New York parents who, though a student at Yardley College, spends more of his time as a successful gambler.
His girlfriend is Ashleigh Enright (a wonderful bubbling ingénue turn by Elle Fanning),a journalist major who lands an interview for the campus newspaper with leading indie filmmaker Roland Pollard (Liev Schrieber), necessitating her travelling to Manhattan, Gatsby tagging along for what he intends as a romantic weekend, at the same time trying to avoid his parents’ gala.
Cooling his heels while the interview extends far beyond the initial plan, he’s inveigled by an old schoolfriend to stand-in for a small part in the film he’s shooting, a scene that entails him kissing Chan Tyrell (Selena Gomez), the down-to-earth younger sister of a former girlfriend. At this point, it’s fairly clear where the film’s going, as he and Chan hang out more and more while Ashleigh finds herself further entangled with Pollard, who is having a creative crisis, and his screenwriter Ted Davidoff (Jude Law) and his marital problems. She also hooks up with film star Francisco Vega (Diego Luna), and is tagged by the media as his latest lover, Gatsby, meanwhile, hiring an escort to impersonate her at the gala.
All of which leads to a series of family revelations that add further to the film’s farcical nature before winding up exactly as you imagined in a perfect 50s Hollywood kiss. Frothy and bittersweet and populated with some lovely performances and a warm glow of nostalgia even if it is set in a world of cell phones, this is well worth splashing out on. (Amazon Prime)
Raya and the Last Dragon (PG)
Disney’s first Southeast Asian heroine makes her debut in this stirring animated adventure set in a mythical land in the ancient time of dragons and which serves up an inspirational message about the need for and power of trust.
Taking the shape of a dragon the map, Kumundra was once a united land, but, drawn perhaps by growing discontent among the peoples from its different regions, there came the monstrous Druun, a plague of tornado-like creatures that turned people to stone. In one last valiant effort, the remaining dragons who protected the land combined their power in a gemstone which, before they too were petrified, they entrusted to Sisu who used it to destroy the Druun but who, apparently perished herself in doing so. Leap forward 500 years and the land has become fragmented, the regions, representing their position on the map, now divided into Heart, the densely forested Spine, market-town Talon, the desert wasteland Tail and, isolated and protected from the Druun by surrounding waters, Fang, with the dragon stone and its remaining magic safely protected by Benja (Daniel Dae Kim), leader of the Heart and father to young Raya (Kelly Marie Tran) who, in the opening scenes, earns her right to become one of its guardians. Beja’s dream is to reunite Kumandra, to which end he invites the different tribes to a feast and calls upon them to join together once again. However, duped into trusting Namaari (Gemma Chan), the princess daughter of the Fang leader, Raya innocently leads her to the stone, only to be double-crossed, the gem broken into five pieces and stolen by the other tribes and, in turn, seeing the return of the Druun.
Saved by her father before he’s turned to stone, the story moved on six years as the now grown Raya, dressed in flowing cape, carrying a pretty impressive sword and accompanied by her now equally giant pillbug Tuk Tuk (a sort of armadillo that can curl into a ball which she rides like a spherical horse), is searching the land, seeking to find Sisu who, legend has it, still lives at the end of one of the many rivers, and recover the other gem fragments to destroy the Druun, restore her father to life and, possibly fulfil his dream.
Finally, she does indeed reawaken Sisu (an exuberant Awkafina), who turns out be a somewhat ditzy glowing blue teen dragon (“I gotcha girl. WHO’S your dragon?”) proud of her swimming skills. Unfortunately, Raya’s been followed by Namaari who has her own quest to recover all the gem shards to keep Fang safe and so the film unfolds into a sort of Tomb Raider road movie as Raya and Sisu, who can take on human form, joining forces with representatives from the different tribes, first young shrimp seller Boun (Izaac Wang) aboard his floating restaurant followed, after accompanying battles and escapades, a con baby and her three thieving monkeys and one-eyed warrior Tong (Benedict Wong), all of whom have lost family to the Druun, gathering the shards until only the one in Fang remains to be recovered. Not that Namaari is going to let her get her hands on that.
Deftly mixing action, emotion and humour, the film rattles along, addressing such themes as greed, environmental crises, family and friendship before, prompted by the optimistic Sisu, finally returning to the central message that if you’re going to overcome shared problems, then you need to get past your differences and have trust to work together for a common cause. All that and some farting beetles for the kids. (Disney +; Empire Great Park)
The Rental (15)
The directorial debut of James Franco’s baby brother Dave starts out well. To celebrate acquiring seed money for his company, Charlie (Dan Stevens) rents a secluded Oregon clifftop villa for the weekend as a treat for himself, wife Michelle (Alison Brie), underachieving ex-con brother Josh (Jeremy Allen White), and his Middle Eastern heritage girlfriend Mina (Sheila Vand), who’s also Charlie’s business partner.
After a somewhat brusque encounter with the caretaker, Taylor (Toby Huss), who does little to disguise his racist attitudes, they settle down to enjoy the stay with some booze, drugs, walks and a hot tub. By the time of the second night there will have been cheating sex in the shower, the discovery of hidden cameras, a missing dog and a dead body in the bath. Up until this point, the film does a good job of teasing out the relationships between the four characters, throwing in small but effective twists, such as the fact that at least one of them has kept secrets from their other half, and building the suspense once the cameras are discovered, with the threat that exposure of the footage presents.
But then the screenplay reverts to tired horror clichés with the homicidal maniac in a mask appearing out of the mist carrying a hammer and, while there a nice touch in watching the never fully seen killer dismantling his surveillance, the film just expires along with its cast, the coda setting up a repeat scenario in another home feeling less like setting up a sequel and more that Franco had no idea how to end it. (Amazon Prime)
Rocks (BAFTA winning newcomer Bukky Bakray) is a teenage British-Nigerian East London schoolgirl with a strong multi-ethnic support circle of friends, among them Sumaya (Kosar Ali) Agnes (Ruby Stokes), Yawa (Afi Okaidja), Khadijah (Tawheda Begum) and Sabina (Anastasia Dymitrow).
She certainly needs them when, suffering from depression and medication issues, not for the first time, her widowed mother (Layo-Christina Akinlude) takes off leaving her and seven-year-old kid brother Emmanuel (D’angelou Osei Kissiedu) to fend for themselves. Which, of course, means Rocks has to prevent the authorities finding out so they’re not taken into care and split up, while carrying on as if everything’s normal.
Directed by Sarah Gavron, co-written by Theresa Ikoko and Claire Wilson and developed in workshops, unfolding over the course of a week it has a natural, fluid feel in which the friendships that are a vital part of the story are organic rather than scripted, with Bakray anchoring the film as a force of nature. (Netflix; Thu/Fri: MAC)
Chloe Sherman (Kiera Allen) is a 17-year-old high school senior who, confined to a wheelchair, was born paralysed from the waist down and also suffers from asthma and arrhythmia. Homeschooled by her ultra-supportive loving single mother, Diane Paulson, she’s overcome her ailments, become a skilled electronics engineer and is awaiting news about her university applications, her conditions managed by a series of pills.
Then, one day, she finds a pill bottle in the grocery bag with her mother’s name on it and the pills looks very familiar. She questions this but is told that they’re actually part of her prescription. Not convinced, she starts trying to check things out, somewhat complicated by the fact the internet is down, she’s not allowed a cell phone and mum keeps a close eye on her. However, devising a plan to get into town and visit the pharmacy, she makes a shocking discovery about the medication, which throws her whole life and her mother into a terrifying new light.
Without giving too much way, it won’t be a huge surprise to learn Diane and her motivations aren’t what they seem and that the pills may be exacerbating rather than controlling Chloe’s conditions. There’s further revelation as Aneesh Chaganty’s nailbiting thriller gathers momentum, at one point Chloe having to escape from her locked bedroom by crawling long the roof, finally climaxing in hospital after taking drastic actions. Newcomer Allen is terrific as the determined and resourceful teenager while Paulson delivers a subtle, measured turn in a role that had the potential to be played as a hysterical scenery chewer. Psychologically, it never digs too deeply, but it ratchets up the tension perfectly, ending with a chilling coda that, were it in a cinema, would surely elicit a rousing cheer from the audience. (Netflix)
Saint Frances (15)
“I’m not an impressive person,” says directionless thirty-something Bridget towards the end of first time director Alex Thompson’s engaging character study, but that’s not something you could say about screenwriter and star Kelly O’Sullivan who shines in both capacities.
Having dropped out of her creative writing course, Bridget now works as a ‘server’, striking up a relationship with a fellow, but much younger, restaurant worker, Jace (Max Lipchitz), she meets at a party. They have sex in one of several matter of fact scenes that involve some messy bloody sheets and underwear, initially from her period and later as the aftermath of an abortion following an accidental pregnancy.
This, however, is not the film’s core relationship. That’s between Bridget and precocious 6-year-old Frances (Ramona Edith-Williams), the daughter of affluent mixed-race liberal Chicago lesbian parents Maya (Charin Alvarez) and Annie (Lily Mojekwu), to whom, after a previous rejection, she becomes nanny as the women juggle long work hours and Maya’s postpartum depression following the birth of Frances’ baby brother.
In many ways, the film follows a familiar narrative of an emotionally adrift adult learning to become responsible, grounded and feel self-worth through their relationship with a child wise beyond their years, but O’Sullivan’s script makes it feel fresh, the subplots involving her relationship with the impossibly sweet Jace (who keeps an emotional journal of feelings she refuses to address), an affair with Frances’ older guitar tutor, Maya’s depression and the resulting strain on the marriage all adding emotional depth as the film explores what being a woman and the different experiences involved can entail.
O’Sullivan is a delight and is perfectly matched with Edith-Williams who, in her early attempts to outsmart her inexperienced nanny and the bond that eventually grows, proves a natural screen presence which, compounded by the strong supporting cast, make this a small but charming delight. (Amazon Prime)
The Secret Garden (PG)
The seventh big screen adaptation of Frances Hodgson Burnett’s 1911 English children’s literature classic, screenwriter Jack Thorne (who adapted His Dark Materials) expanding the backstory and delivers a more dramatic climax, but this still feels a bit of a charmless slog, the characters overshadowed by the visual effects, and the performances often feeling like a throwback to the days of the Children’s Film Foundation.
Opening with a prologue set in India on the eve of partition, her parents dead and abandoned by the servants, 10-year-old Mary Lennox (Dixie Egerickx, recently seen in Summerland) finds herself shipped off to England become the ward of her hunchback uncle, Archibald Craven (Colin Firth with a very annoying floppy fringe), the cold, no-nonsense widower of her mother’s sister, at Misselthwaite Manor, is brooding estate on the Yorkshire Moors, and under the strict supervision of joyless housekeeper Mrs. Medlock (Julie Walters).
Initially something of a brat with a sense of entitlement, Mary eventually makes friend with the ethnic housemaid Martha (Isis Davis) and, while playing outdoors, encounters a Yorkshire terrier she names Jemimah, and discovers a hidden garden behind overgrown walls. In turn, she chums up with Martha’s wild-haired younger brother, Dickon (Amir Wilson), who she takes into the garden where a friendly robin leads her to the location of a hidden key.
Meanwhile, ignoring instructions to remain in her part of the house, she’s also discovered Colin (Edan Hayhurst), her equally spoiled and bossy cousin who has been confined to bed by his father, who rarely visits him, and is apparently unable to walk on account of some genetic spinal condition. Suffice to say, they gradually become friend and she and Dickon secretly wheel him out of the house into the garden, where its restorative powers do their business.
The garden of course, has its own secret, as this was the favourite spot for the two sisters and their youngsters, and where Colin’s mother died, his grief-struck fathers sealing it up and subsequently locking way any memories of his wife, his son included.
A film about grief, healing, friendship, family and the power of nature, it’s visually strikingly impressive and colourful, the William Morris-style floral design of the wallpaper in Mary’s shadowy room (which secretly adjoins that of her late aunt) patently foreshadowing the real thing later and also prompting one of several, rather jarring, flights into her imagination. The introduction of the ghosts of both Colin’s mother Grace (Jemma Powell) and her sister Alice (Maeve Dermody), who also figures ignoring her daughter in several flashbacks does little to enhance to narrative or evoke the emotions intended.
Egerickx is engagingly energetic and charismatic, even when being petulantly privileged, so it’s unfortunate her fellow child actors are so flat and dull, while Walters rarely registers as more than a dour cameo and Firth, despite saving grace final moment of epiphany, is all one note and lacking his usual spark. Nice flowers though. (Sky)
Six Minutes to Midnight (15)
Prior to WWII, in the mid to late-1930s, Augusta Victoria School in Bexhill-on-Sea, East Sussex served as finishing school for the daughters of the Nazi elite, working on the premise that Germany wouldn’t invade and put the girls at risk. It was run by Frau Helene Rocholl (here played by Judy Dench), a German sympathiser well connected to the Nazi regime, Working from this true story and titled from the doomsday clock (though 1154 also has an unlikely narrative role), co-writer Eddie Izzard spins a tale in which he plays Thomas Miller, an undercover British agent who takes the post as English teacher after his spy predecessor disappears (washing up on the shore after being murdered by an unknown assailant) while Carla Juri is sports teacher Ilse Keller who oversees the girls (of whom only Tijan Marei as bespectacled outcast Gretel has anything like a character), and secretly indoctrinates them about the Jewish menace and is charged with getting them bac to Germany so they can’t be taken hostage when war breaks out.
Feeling like a piss poor sub-Hitchcock period melodrama, the longer it trundles on the more ludicrous the plot becomes and the worse the dialogue and the acting, especially with the arrival of James D’Arcy’s clearly shady detective after Miller’s accused of murdering his handler, while director Andy Goddard is so fond of having Izzard running from his pursuers that he repeats such scenes over and over to the point of being ridiculous. Quite what persuaded Dench, who provides some needed gravitas in the circumstances, and Jim Broadbent, who plays a cheery bus driver, to sign on is a total mystery, but then so is the fact that this ever got made in the first place. (Sky)
Directed by Pete Docter, this BAFTA winner is up there with the very best of Pixar’s animation, a film which, like Inside Out and Up, offers different levels for both children and adult audiences with its cocktail of absorbing narrative, physical comedy, emotional depth and profound intelligence as it addresses, basically, the meaning of life.
Joe Gardner (Jamie Foxx) is a bespectacled, New York middle-school music teacher with dreams of being a jazz piano player like his father, much to the disapproval of his seamstress mother who just wants him to get a job with security. As fate would have it, both opportunities come on the same day. He’s awarded a full time post at school and, thanks to an old pupil, also gets to audition tinkling the ivories for jazz saxophonist star Dorothea Williams (Angela Bassett).
She offers him a place with her quartet for that night’s jazz club show, but, as he’s walking home, high on happiness, he falls down a manhole and finds himself a blue blob no nose soul on, quite literally, a stairway to heaven, although here referred to as the Great Beyond. It’s an inter-dimensional realm managed by shape-shifting incorporeal beings which look like that 2-dimensional Cubic drawings and are called Jerry (variously voiced by, among others, Alice Braga, Wes Studi and Richard Ayoade), where as yet unborn souls are assigned personality traits at the You Seminar before earning their spark, or purpose, that will give them a pass to begin a life on Earth.
Mistakenly assumed to be a mentor, Joe’s assigned to 22 (Tina Fey), a troublesome soul in waiting with a voice “that annoys people “who, despite the best efforts of Mother Teresa, Copernicus and Gandhi, has no desire to be born at all or transition to Earth. However, with Joe’s body in a coma in hospital, he’s determined to return and, with the help of a Moonwind (Graham Norton), an astral plane pirate captain soul whose human body is aged hippy guru sign spinner on Earth, so he does, except, 22 accidentally dragged along, Joe ends up in the body of Mr. Mittens, the therapy cat, and 22 in his. Now, 22 discovering living isn’t as terrible as she’d imagined, the reluctant buddies must embark on an existential fish-out-of-water quest to switch their souls before 7pm so he can play the gig, but, meanwhile, finding himself one short, soul counter Jerry (Rachel House) is on Joe’s trail to fulfil his quota.
Echoing elements of A Matter of Life and Death, What Dreams May Come as well as Pixar’s own Wreck It Ralph, it’s a spellbinding film, funny and moving by turn, filled with such wonderful set pieces as 22 as Joe’s visit to a barbershop which speaks about finding happiness in what you do even it wasn’t what you original dream and how obsession can cut you off from having a life.
Rich with a seamlessly integrated jazz score (Joe’s talent for improvisation serving him well away from the piano too), it’s as vivid in detail and colour as it is profound in its philosophising on what constitutes the essence of out very soul as well as pointed observations such as “You can’t crush a soul here. That’s what life on Earth is for!” In a virtual Disney heresy, as Joe comes to learn his true talent might be as a teacher not a musician, it also says that, sometimes, achieving your dream might not be all you hoped for. But that, as Soul so poignantly observes, is what life is all about. (Disney +)
Sound of Metal (15)
Riz Ahmed is on a high. Following on from the critically acclaimed Mogul Mowgli, he’s now a another musician whose career is derailed by illness. Here, in writer-director Darius Marder’s debut, he’s Ruben, who, the words ‘Please Kill Me’ tattooed on his chest, plays drums for his singer-guitarist girlfriend Lou (Olivia Cooke) in their gender-reversed White Stripes grungey noisecore duo Blackgammon. He’s first seen pummelling the kit in the middle of a tour while she screams out the song amid distorted guitar.
They’re not exactly making a fortune but they’re doing okay, playing the music they love and sharing a ramshackle RV home. And then it all falls apart when, without warning, in the middle of a gig the sound suddenly muffles and he has to rely on instinct to finish the show. An urgent visit to a doctor reveals that he’s not just going deaf, but, for whatever reason, his hearing has virtually all gone. And it’s not coming back.
Initially, he tries to play by memory, refusing to admit defeat or, even tell Lou what the problem is, but the impact of not hearing what he’s playing or anything in the world around him, threatens to tear him apart. He could have a cochlear implant, but his hearing will never be the same, and, besides, the cost is beyond their means. Instead, he’s persuaded by Lou to join a remote deaf community for recovering addicts overseen by Joe (a compelling Paul Raci, a real-life deaf musician), a no-nonsense Vietnam veteran lip reader who seeks to teach those under his charge to make peace with their condition and not see deafness as a disability.
Hostile at first, especially given Joe’s tough love approach, Ruben gradually begins to assimilate into the community (played by deaf actors), learning sign language (prompting several warmingly rewarding scenes of togetherness), helping out and bonding with the local deaf kids in local school. But despite all this, being away from his music and from Lou exacerbate his inner conflict, eventually resolving to have the operation, whatever the cost, even though it means he can then never return to the community. And so Ruben does recover his hearing, in a fashion, but it’s clear that what once was has gone forever and, in a visit to Lou, now staying with her father (Mathieu Amalric), that could well include their personal as well as professional relationship.
With a gradually unfolding backstory that reveals their shared experiences of addiction (she has scars on her arms, he swapped drugs for drum) that eventually united them, it packs a devastating emotional impact as it charts Ruben’s initial denial, his self-destructive attempt to ignore what’s happening to him, the arguments between the couple, her unswerving support a molten cocktail of anger and empathy, the sacrifices made and the prices paid, all forging a visceral power and sensitivity with a never-better Ahmed at the centre of the storm as he questions his worth as a musician and a man until he finds and accept the new reality of his life.
Ahmed’s performance is perhaps only rivalled by the film’s sound design which takes you inside Ruben’s head to experience his hearing loss directly and also the disorienting distortion of sound he experiences after the implant, it also highlights the quieter moments in Ruben’s journey to acceptance and coming of age. Come on, feel the noise. (Amazon Prime; Empire Great Park)
The Spongebob Movie – Sponge On The Run (U)
Bypassing cinemas to go straight to streaming and download platforms, the third Squarepants movie finds the irrepressible SpongeBob (Tim Kenny) living happily in Bikini Bottom with his pet snail Gary, hanging out with bozo starfish pal Patrick (Bill Fagerbakke) and working alongside grumpy octopus neighbour Squidward (Rodger Bumpass), serving up crab patties for Mr Krabs (Clancy Brown) and the Krusty Krab.
However, tyrannical ocean ruler Poseidon (Matt Berry), who live in the garish Lost City of Atlantic City, needs snail slime to keep his green skin soft and supple – and he’s just used up his last one. So, looking to finally get his hands on Mr Krab’s secret formula and realising SpongeBob is the cause of all his failures, Plankton (Mr. Lawrence) snailnaps Gary, prompting SpongeBob and Patrick to set off to find him in a car driven by cantankerously self-willed robot invented by squirrel Sandy Cheeks (Carolyn Lawrence), winding up with them as Poseidon’s prisoners and facing public spectacle execution. Which, of course, is when their friends pile in to the rescue.
Featuring assorted flashbacks recounting how the friends all first met each other. like the previous films it mixes animation with live action cameos, here Snoop Dog who gets to do his thing during a Wild West dream sequence zombie dance routine in a cowboy saloon run by El Diablo (Danny Trejo) and an inspired appearance by Keanu Reeves dispensing generally unheeded wisdom and advice as Sage from inside a tumbling tumbleweed.
Exploding with colour, it is, of course, incredibly silly, but also very funny and packed with sly throwaway jokes with everyone (the voice cast also includes Awkwafina) clearly having a great time and, of course, an upbeat message about the importance of friends and finding our inner courage, entertaining the kiddies while ensuring chuckles for the grown-ups too. (Netflix).
A Netflix original, this sets up an impossible moral dilemma when, having taken off from Earth on a two year Hyperion mission to Mars, the crew, doctor Zoe (Anna Kendrick), biologist David (Daniel Kim) and commander Marina (Toni Collette), discover that they have an extra member. The title’s a tad misleading since Michael (Shamier Anderson), a support engineer, didn’t sneak on board but somehow managed to get locked in while doing a final check, a sort of space version of failing to ensure no surgical instruments remain in the body before sewing it up.
Initially understandably panic stricken, he calms down and, having nurtured a dream of such a mission, offers to pitch in. The problem is that, during launch, he was injured and one of the life support systems was damaged beyond repair. The other problem is that craft was originally designed for two, compromises were made to accommodate three and there isn’t enough oxygen for four people to make it to Mars. So, with Marina and David agreeing the mission (and its commercial backers) comes first, and with no viable alternative source of oxygen, it seems like a case of last in, first out. David’s ready to offer a painless exit, but Zoe, being a doctor and all, is far from comfortable with taking a life rather than saving it and insists on exhausting whatever steps possible, however dangerous, before bowing to the inevitable after the 20 days deadline.
At one point, she tells Michael a story from her past about putting her life at risk trying to rescue a drowning man and, quite frankly, if that doesn’t tip you off where this is heading then you deserve trudging through the slow and interminable slog to the anti-climactic finale, where you’ll only be gripping the edge of your seat to avoid falling off with boredom. The cast do what they can but the screenplay affords little beyond two-dimensional characterisation and for all the supposed tension of the situation, there’s precious little intensity to the performances. Like the fate facing those on the Hyperion, the film runs out of oxygen long before it gets to its final destination. (Netflix)
One of the upsides of social distancing and lockdown isolation is that you can cry your eyes out over this soft-centred wartime drama without anyone knowing. Operating a flashback within a flashback structure, it opens in 1975 with the elderly Alice Lamb (Penelope Wilton) giving an earful to a couple of kids whose charity collecting has interrupted her bashing way on the typewriter. Cut to the younger Alice (Gemma Arterton) living in isolation in a small secluded coastal cottage in wartime Kent where she’s working on her latest scientific book providing rationale scientific explanations for mystical and mythical phenomena, her latest being the phenomenon of “floating islands”. The film title itself comes from the pagan concept of the afterlife.
A prickly loner who callously buys chocolate in front of a child whose mother doesn’t have enough coupons, leading the girl to think it’s for her, she’s understandably not much liked by the villagers, the local boys forever dumping twigs through her letterbox and calling her a witch. So, she’s not best pleased when she discovers she’s been landed with a London evacuee, the endearing if overly boisterous Frank (Lucas Bond), whose dad’s in the RAF and whose mother works for the Ministry, reluctantly agreeing to have him for a week while another placement is found.
Naturally, the film being what it is, as the days pass, she finds herself thawing towards him, explain her research and indulging his love of chips. Frank also becomes friends with spiky, self-styled maverick tomboy classmate Edie (upcoming The Secret Garden star Dixie Egerickx).
At this point the film starts flashing back to the 1920s where we learn that Alice struck up a lesbian interracial love affair with Vera (Gugu Mbatha-Raw), although, given the times, social attitudes and Vera’s maternal desires, it’s doomed not to last, hence explaining Alice’s current emotional barricades. Under his probing, when she admits her old relationship to Frank, he’s perfectly – if somewhat unbelievably – open-mindedly accepting of it all, deepening her feelings towards him.
Naturally, this being war, at some point there’ll be that dreaded news and the dilemma of how to break it, setting up the third act’s massive melodramatic revelation (though, if you pay close attention you can see it coming) and emotional payoff before returning to where it started.
Written and directed by Jessica Swale making her feature debut, it’s beautifully shot and finely acted by Arterton and Bond, Tom Courtney providing a lovely turn as the local schoolmaster having to cope with Alice’s acerbic nature, the screenplay gently addressing themes of parenting and female independence, albeit from a somewhat contemporary perspective. Stock up on the tissues. (Amazon Prime; iTunes; Sky)
Sylvie’s Love (12)
An affectionate (and coloured-led) tribute to 50s and 60s studio romances, writer-director Eugene Ashe delivers a heartwarming story of love surviving a series of trials and tribulations set predominantly in New York in 1957. It opens in 1962 with Sylvie (Tessa Thompson) waiting outside a Nancy Wilson concert for a friend when who should appear but Robert Holloway (Nnamdi Asomugha), an old flame, at which point the film flashes back to summer 1957 with the emergence of rock and roll, as represented by Bill Haley, about to depose jazz as America’s favourite music. Here, Sylvie Johnson is working at her father’s Harlem record shop, largely so she can watch TV, which her well-to-do etiquette teacher mother (Erica Gimbel) won’t allow at home, dreaming of becoming a TV show producer. Seeing a staff wanted sign in the window, in comes Robert, a saxophonist in a rising jazz quartet, who purchases a Thelonius Monk album and, after some playful banter, is hired by her father, himself a former saxman.
Even though she’s engaged, her fiancé off fighting in the Korean War, drawn together initially by a shared love of jazz and her wide knowledge of music, it’s the start of a lengthy romance that begins with a kiss at her front door after she attends one of the band’s shows and, despite her protestation that it was just a one-off, grows deeper as, over the following six years, she’s hired as the assistant to a black female producer on her favourite cookery show, he and the band are taken on by a hustling English white manager (Jemima Kirke) who lands them a prestigious club residency which, in turns, earns them an offer to play in Paris. All of which variously bring out star-crossed lovers together and conspires to keep them apart through variously a series of misunderstanding and selfless sacrifices for each other’s happiness.
When we see Sylvie throwing up shortly after she and Robert first have sex, the reason is obvious, but she chooses to keep the truth from him, eventually marrying her wealthy fiancé, and it’s not until much later that her dying father tells Robert that he has a daughter. Meanwhile, her career on the up, Sylvie is forced to make a decision between being who she wants to be and what her husband expects of her.
None of this is given a melodramatic treatment and the rocky road to true love unfolds in a perhaps contrived but nevertheless believable manner, even if, when they eventually get together as the film returns to its opening, it feels like overdoing things when fate conspires against them yet again as Robert, his dreams of a Coltrane-like recording career of his own rebuffed, is apparently offered a sax playing job at Motown which would involve a move to Detroit.
Luminous in their individual moments, Thompson and Asmogha also have a wonderful chemistry in their scenes together while the film also features strong support work from Lance Reddick as Sylvie’s father, Aja Naomi King as her cousin Mona, and, albeit something of a cameo, Eva Longoria as vivacious musician’s wife Carmen. The screenplay also drops in some racial issues references, such as Sylvia’s husband getting a high paying ad exec job because his bigoted employer needs to fill a quota and Mona part of a campaign for voting rights in the South, but, like the film’s design and use of music, Technicolour and costume, this all feels organic rather than forced or overdone. A valentine retro romance with heart and soul, this is a must. (Amazon Prime)
Following on from Tenet, here’s another sci-fi thriller that plays with the idea of time, although this, directed by Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead, is slightly easier to follow. Fellow New Orleans overnight paramedics and best friends, Steve (Anthony Mackie) and Dennis (Jamie Dornan) find themselves attending a series of grisly incidents, overdoses and deaths, one of which involved a woman bitten by a snake that hasn’t been seen in the area of centuries and another with a man apparently stabbed with a pirate cutlass. Gradually, they link these with a new designer drug called Synchronic, the creator of which attempts to buy all the packets Steve’s just gathered from the local drug store and even sneaks into his apartment to steal and destroy the last batch in existence.
Deciding to experiment, Steve, who, unlike Dennis, has no family (but does have a tragic backstory that has made him an emotionally shut-off loner to all but his dog and Dennis), indulges his amateur physicist inclinations and discovers that, something to do with the pineal gland, taking Synchronic takes you back to the past, which, it is proposed, exists simultaneously with the present, in the very spot in which you happen to be at that moment. He also learns that he has a terminal brain tumour, which he keeps to himself, but, fortuitously, his pineal gland is nearer the surface meaning that, unlike the victims he’s seen, he physically goes back in time and is able to return (though dog lovers might want to skip one particular trip).
This is a good thing because it seems that Dennis’s disaffected daughter Brianna (Ally Ioannides) has taken the drug, but, being a teenager with her pineal undeveloped, she’s stuck back wherever she went to. And so, without telling Dennis, Steve decides to use up his remaining stash to go back and find her. Woven into all this are threads about friendship and family, Dennis and his wife (Katie Aselton), recently becoming new parents, are having self-loathing projection problems because of his hang-ups over getting old and feeling a failure as husband and father (cue subsequent confrontation between the two friends about taking what you have for granted), and the sacrifices made to sustain them.
Being a black man going into the past allows the film to touch on themes of racism, (Brianna’s stuck in some Confederacy apocalypse), but these are more about texture than focus as, after its mystery-building start, the film rattles along building the tension as it goes, Mackie is both the more prominent character and the stronger performance, but everyone delivers and from the striking hallucinatory effects and cinematography to the message about living in the now, this is a very effective trip. (Amazon Prime, CHILI, Google Play, iTunes, Rakuten, TalkTalk TV, Sky Store)
Thunder Force (12)
The fifth collaboration between Melissa McCarthy and her writer-director husband Ben Falcone, this superhero action comedy benefits mainly by not being as awful as their previous agonisingly unfunny, virtually unwatchable Superintelligence where she had to convince a sentient AI program incarnated as James Cordon not to destroy humanity. As recommendations go, it’s not the greatest incentive.
The backdrop is a world where, back in 83, those ever unreliable cosmic rays gave superpowers to a bunch of genetically predisposed sociopaths, who became termed Miscreants, but with no superhero good guys to balance them out. McCarthy is Lydia, a slobby alcoholic metalhead forklift operator with no friends. She had one once, childhood BFF, Emily (Octavia Spencer), who she saved from the school bully, but, after a falling out, they’ve long been estranged. However, as their 235th high school reunion approaches, she decides to try and get her to come and goes to the high-tech Chicago lab where, her parents having been caught in the crossfire back in the day, she now works as a scientist trying to continue their work and bring the Miscreants to justice by creating superheroes,
Told not to touch anything, she naturally does and finds herself strapped into a machine and injected with a serum that causes molecular changes in her body, starting the process of giving her super strength powers, meaning she now has to complete the course, while Emily takes her own pill-based treatment that gives her the power of invisibility (except we can see her). Now, kitted out in matching blue leather body armour and driving a purple Lamborghini, they set out to take down the Miscreants, a line-up that includes bad ass lightning bolts thrower Laser (Pom Klementieff), the megalomaniac crime boss The King (Bobby Cannavale), while resolving their issues along the way. There’s also the Crab (Jason Bateman) a relatively nice guy who wears a powder blue suit and has pincers for arms (he was bitten in the scrotum by a radioactive crab) and for whom, when they confront him robbing a liquor store, Lydia immediately falls, prompting an pointless fantasy dance sequence. He’s only half-Creant, giving rise to the gag of Lydia mishearing it as half-Korean. And that’s about the level of the humour throughout. Unless the sight of her wolfing down raw chicken strips (cue a Lady and Tramp spaghetti riff with Bateman) or throwing up over people is your idea of hysterical.
With Taylor Mosby and Melissa Leo in support roles as Emily’s 15-year-old daughter and her trusted assistant, there’s some mediocre action sequences as the film jerks from one scene to the next like an epileptic fit in the editing room, the film not so much the roar of thunder as the ripple of a fart. (Netflix)
To Olivia (PG)
In November 1962, the year after James And The Giant Peach was published to almost deafening silence, Olivia Twenty (Darcey Ewart), the seven-year-old daughter of author Roald Dahl (Hugh Bonneville) and his American actress wife Patricia Neale (Keeley Hawes), and to whom it was dedicated, died of measles encephalitis, and it’s around that tragic event that director John Hays’ film, co-written with David Logan and Stephen Michael Shearer (who wrote Neale’s biography). pivots.
Living in rural Buckinghamshire with their other children, five-year old ‘Tessa’ (an affecting Isabella Johnson) and toddler Theo, Dahl and Neale are understandably devastated. His reaction – part driven by feelings of guilt and frustration at his helplessness to save her – being to bundle away all of Olivia’s possessions into a trunk on the day of the funeral, avoiding speaking her name (he wrote an account of the tragedy that was only discovered after his own death, 28 years later), falling apart and becoming distant and snappy to both his wife and Tessa, retreating to his writing shed with a bottle and his grief, while she attempts to cope with both her loss and her husband’s behaviour and keep the family together.
Shortly after, she’s approached by Hollywood director Marty Ritt (Conleth Hill) who sends her the script for Hud Bannon, a film starring Paul Newman, only for Dahl to question whether it’s too soon and whether she’s ready to take it on. Not least since it would likely mean him being left at home to look after the children.
As history tells, Neale agreed to the film (here in response to a row with a patronisingly obnoxious Dahl) which, retitled simply Hud, went on to earn her the 1963 Oscar for Best Actress. He, meanwhile, mellowing in his behaviour and reconciling with Tessa (who has a doll named Matilda), sets about writing what will become Charlie And The Chocolate Factory.
While the notion that grief can result in creativity might seem somewhat glib in the circumstances, the film and its central performances powerfully capture the emotional and psychological aftermath of losing a child and how those left behind can bear the brunt of the anguish. Pretty much everything on screen is true to life, including him writing a message to his daughters from the fairies on his lawn using weedkiller.
Scenes of him in his shed imaging what one assumes is a schoolboy version of himself encouraging him to write and looking disapprovingly at the whisky bottle, feel somewhat out of kilter with the rest of the film, but Bonneville and Hawes are terrific together and each have their own particularly memorable moments. His when they visit his old teacher, former Archbishop of Canterbury Geoffrey Fisher (the final screen role by the late Geoffrey Palmer) who speaks of Olivia finding happiness in God’s garden only to prompt outrage (and Dahl’s eventual rejection of Christianity) when he bluntly declares there’s no place there for the animals she loved. What sort of God doesn’t like dogs, Dahl fumes. And hers comes when she nervously visits Paul Newman (Sam Heugan) to run through a scene from the film, recreating everything down to him intimidatingly playing pool as they talked, dismissing her daughter’s death as “shit happens”, with Heugan dressed in exactly the same shirt, jeans and boots.
It has a very English sensibility with little room for sentimentality, but it has a huge heart and unfiltered emotion. (Sky)
To The Stars (12)
Set somewhere in the 60s in rural Oklahoma, bespectacled wallflower Iris Deerborne (Kara Hayward) lives with her heavy drinking and sexually frustrated embittered mother Francie (Jordana Spiro), and her kindly but ineffectual father Hank (Shea Whigham). Suffering from a bladder problem that’s earned her the cruel school nickname of Stinky Drawers she has no friends. Until, that is, attractive, worldly wise and feisty new girl in school Maggie Richmond (Liana Liberato) sees off a bunch of bullies harassing her (‘cowfuckers’ she shouts after them) and, Maggie, a fantasist having her own troubles and less than perfect parents (Malin Akerman, Tony Hale), the pair gradually develop a mutually supportive friendship, the latter making it a mission to help the former find her inner beauty and self-confidence in the face of the usual bitchy classmates. Cue a makeover with the local beautician and hair stylist Hazel (Adelaide Clemens) and a gradually blossoming potential prom date romance with Jeff (Lucas Jade Zuhman).
As such, directed by Martha Stephens from a screenplay by Shannon Bradley-Colleary, originally shot in black and white, but now in colour, the film is both tender and gentle in following the chalk and cheese friendship, the chemistry between the twin leads fully engage you in the rights of passage narrative but then, in the third act it inexplicably goes off the rails by introducing a contorted lesbian twist pretty much out of nowhere that has the town’s seething latent intolerance boiling over like the mob out of Frankenstein, a collapse into melodrama from which it never recovers despite a last minute attempt at reasserting its bittersweet poignancy. (Sky)
Tom and Jerry (PG)
Back in 1988, Robert Zemeckis came up with the inspirational idea of combining live and action and animation in Who Framed Roger Rabbit. Now director Tim Story attempts the same with this big screen update and expansion of the slapstick cat-and-mouse cartoon shorts of the 1940s and 1950s. The result is pretty much the polar opposite.
Here, a game but criminally humiliated Chloë Grace Moretz hustles her way into a job at an upmarket New York hotel were a big society wedding of two Instagram celebs is due to take place. Coincidentally, Tom and Jerry have also snuck into the place, naturally leading to all kinds of knockabout fun and threatening the chef’s (Ken Jeong) hopes of a Michelin star. Well, perhaps fun is pushing it. There’s just so many things wrong here. For a film surely intended for a family audience, all the stuff about the difficulties in getting a job feel way off beam, the attempt to be hip and cool with its rap soundtrack and jokes about Drake, T.I. and TikTok are as crass as introducing Tom pretending to be a blind hip hop street musician while he and Jerry are relegated to supporting roles in their own film. And to top it all off, unlike the sophistication of the Zemeckis classic, this just superimposes flat two-dimensional animation over the live action to jarring effect.
Still, Michael Peña and Rob Delaney as the events manager and hotel boss, respectively, manage to milk a few laughs and the kids will be in hysterics at the obligatory poo gag with the Bobby Canavale-voiced bulldog crapping on the sidewalk. But that’s truly clutching at straws. (Amazon Prime, BT TV, CHILI, Google Play, Rakuten TV, Sky Store; ; Cineworld 5 Ways, NEC; Empire Great Park; Odeon Birmingham, Broadway Plaza Luxe; Reel; Vue)
Tom Clancy’s Without Remorse (15)
Functional rather than inspired, this looks to launch another Clancy franchise, here spearheaded by Navy Seal John Clark (Michael B Jordan) who, at the start of the film, is part of a behind enemy lines black ops mission in Syria to rescue an American agent being held captive. That’s duly accomplished and all the bad guys eliminated, except it turns out they aren’t insurgents, they’re Russian and the team has been duped by the CIA, in the form of the devious Ritter (Jamie Bell), who had information the Russians were supplying arms,
Clark’s not best pleased, but is ordered to let it lie. Which he does until the Russians come looking for revenge, since one of the dead was the son of a high ranking diplomat, taking out members of his team, an attack on his home leaving two assailants dead and him badly wounded, but his pregnant wife murdered. Recovering, he wants revenge on the killer who got away, but, while it may be an enemy attack on American soil, Ritter wants it swept under the carpet, a tit for tat killing, to appease the Russians and not endanger relations. However, Clark very pointedly and coldly assassinates the diplomat, looking to force a situation wherein he gets to go after his wife’s killer, and, while Ritter opposes this, the Secretary of Defence (Guy Pearce) endorses Clark to be part of the black ops incursion into Russia.
Needless to say, things don’t go smoothly and not everything or everyone is what or who they seem, with it at times looking as though Ritter is trying to precipitate hostilities. It’s not too hard to spot where the trail leads, but written and directed by Taylor Sheridan and Stefano Sollima, the team behind Sicario: Day if the Soldado, it serves up its maverick Rambo-style thrills efficiently enough with some extensive and graphic bloodletting and violence that includes a sniper showdown in Murmansk, a narrow escape from prison guards in the pay of Russian mobsters and a hairy underwater sequence after the team’s plane is shot down.
There’s not a huge amount of character depth but the leads bring what they can to the table, Jordan handles the physicality with impressive power while allowing his eyes and facial expression do the emotional drama, Queen & Slim’s Jodie Turner Smith makes a good job of her underwritten role as Clark’s superior officer Karen Greer, while Bell is clearly enjoying the chance to play a darker role. At the end of the day though, for all the twists, turns and shadowy conspiracies, there’s not a huge amount of meat on the narrative bones, essentially serving as a set-up for the sequel promised in the post-credits meeting between Clark and, well that would be telling. (Amazon Prime)
The Trial of the Chicago 7 (15)
As in his screenplay for A Few Good Men, writer-director Aaron Sorkin delivers a powerful courtroom drama with his recreation of the 1969 trial of the seven protestors accused of inciting a riot against the Vietnam draft that proved to be one of the most infamous chapters in American legal history. While it does fictionalise some incidents, some of the seemingly most unlikely moments, such as the judge ordering a defendant to be bound and gagged or barring the testimony of the former Attorney General of the United States, are all taken from life.
When President Johnson order a doubling of the draft, from 17,000 to 35,000 per month, anti-war factions took to the streets in protest, planning to convene at and disrupt the Democratic National Convention in the summer of 1968 in Chicago. Among them were non-violence favouring Tom Hayden (Eddie Redmayne), leader of the Students for a Democratic Society; Jerry Rubin (Jeremy Strong) and Abbie Hoffman (Sacha Baron Cohen) from the Youth International Party (Yippies) and the older but equally committed David Dellinger (John Carroll Lynch).
A year on from the Chicago Police and protesters violent clashing in and around Grant Park, the leaders, along with Lee Weiner (Noah Robbins), John Froines (Daniel Flaherty), Rennie Davis (Alex Sharp) Bobby Seale (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II), the national chairman of the Black Panther Party who had no actual connection to the others or involvement in the protest, and was only in Chicago to give a speech, were charged with conspiracy to cross lines with the intention of inciting riots.
Opening with a montage of historical events that take in the King and Kennedy assassinations, alternating between courtroom dramas, recreation of the protest and sessions at the home of liberal attorney William Kunstler (Mark Rylance) to plan strategy while rising legal star Richard Schultz (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) puts together the prosecution case, despite reservations as to whether there should even be a trial. The film gathers in power and indignation as District Judge Julius Hoffman (Frank Langella) conducts the courtroom as his personal fiefdom, walking roughshod over constitutional and legal rights, hammering home his clear prejudices and bias with a gavel and contempt of court orders in his contempt for the accused and their representatives as they, understandably, protest about his handling of the trial.
Michael Keaton puts in a late appearance as former Atty. General Ramsey Clark, whose testimony to the jury was refused by Hoffman, although the film does reveal what he would have said and while certain events rejigged in the timeline and there’s degree of dramatic licence, fuelled by commanding performances (a frizzy-haired Baron Cohen stealing the show – . “We’re not guilty because of who we are. “We’re guilty of what we believe” – and proving he’s more than a comedic actor) that fully engage you in proceedings even as Hoffman and Rubin play the courtroom farrago for laughs.
“This is the Academy Awards of protests,” says Weiner (Noah Robbins) as he takes his seat, “As far as I’m concerned, it’s an honour just to be nominated.” Come the actual Awards, it’s a fair bet many involved will be feeling the same way. (Netflix)
The United States vs Billie Holiday (15)
A jazz legend who died at the age of 44, surprisingly, given her colourful life, Billie Holiday has only even been the subject of one film, Lady Sings The Blues in which she was played by Diana Ross. Now, courtesy of director Lee Daniels and writer Suzan-Lori Parks, there’s a second, Andra Day’s Golden Globe-winning portrayal of ‘Lady Day’ wiping the floor with Ross in a film that pivots around her sustained persecution by the US government in the wake of her 1939 recording of Strange Fruit, a chilling song (written by a Jewish schoolteacher from the Bronx) about the lynching of a black man in the Southern states, that was deemed a potential racial powderkeg in an already volatile 40s America.
Pressure was exerted to prevent her performing the song in concert and, since she couldn’t actually be busted for singing it, Harry Anslinger (Garrett Hedlund), the jazz hating racist who ran the Federal Bureau of Narcotics, recruited former G.I. Jimmy Fletcher (Trevante Rhodes), one of the nine black FBI agents of the time, to go undercover and bust her for narcotics. In the trial from which the film takes its title, she was sentenced to a year and a day in Alderson Federal Prison Camp in West Virginia.
She emerged clean and performed in a triumphant comeback at Carnegie Hall, but was soon back on smack, banned from singing in clubs that served alcohol, beleaguered by continuing federal harassment, management troubles and a tangled love life that entailed her abusive husband, manager and pimp Louis McKay (Rob Morgan), her trombonist, her trumpet player (who was also her dealer) and even Fletcher who had fallen in love with her and sought to protect her, especially when, with McKay’s connivance, she was raided and stitched up for possession again.
At its core a story about how she was betrayed, by the government, the men in her life and her own addiction, there’s a lot of baggage to pack in as Holiday seeks to rise from every blow that knocks her down, both figuratively and literally. Unfortunately, as such, framed by an awkward late 50s gossip rag interview (with Leslie Jordan seemingly channelling Quentin Crisp) and largely redundant sidebars involving her film star friend and occasional lover Tallulah Bankhead (Natasha Lyonne), the film often finds itself sprawling, dramatically, stylistically and emotionally, punctuating the often overheated narrative (which includes heroin high flashbacks to Holiday’s childhood and hooker mother) with several musical sequences which, even though Day’s singing of numbers such as Ain’t Nobody’s Business If I Do is as striking as her acting, unbalance the focus and momentum.
It closes with a punch, however, with an end title noting how, 100 years after a version of it was first introduced, the Emmett Till Anti-Lynching Act remains unpassed by the Senate. The film could have done with a little more of that anger. (Sky)
Grim and depressing from the opening credits until the closing ones, written and directed by Raymund Ribay Gutierrez, this Kafkaesque Philippines drama opens with the brutal beating of Manila housewife Joy Santos (Max Eigenmann) by her abusive, drunken low life crook husband Dante (Kristoffer King), that leaves both her and their six-year-old daughter Angel (Jordhen Suan) bruised and bloodied. She slashes him with a knife, grabs Angel and makes her escape to the local police station dedicated to dealing with such cases to report the assault and he’s taken into custody and the rest of film follows the process as the case comes to trial. The evidence of his brutality is incontrovertible, but she still has to describe what happened while he’s in the same room and go through the bureaucratic red tape process to prove it. She has a dedicated but overworked prosecuting attorney, while his family arrange for an expensive morally bankrupt lawyer who sets out to refute all her accusations, discredit or intimidate witnesses and even seek s to make him the look the victim of attempted murder. Throughout all of this, Dante continues to bully her.
Shot in long takes with a cinema verite approach, the growing sense of where this is all heading makes the unfolding imperfect Filipino system almost unbearable to watch as the survivors of abuse are eaten by the machine and especially when Angel is forced to testify and manipulated by the defence. There is a dramatic final twist that negates the trial process and offers a kind of salvation for Joy, but the film is unambiguous in its message about women like her who don’t have the good fortune of a screenwriter’s trump card. (Amazon Prime, BT TV, CHILI, Google Play, Rakuten TV, Sky Store)
A blackly comic, table-turning spin on the home invasion genre, this gets under way with low rent Bonnie and Clyde couple Mickey (Bill Skarsgård) and Jules (Maika Monroe), robbing the latest in string of gas stations to amass enough cash to get to Florida and start a small business.
Calling each other Pumpkin and Honey Bunny, they’re not the brightest of sparks and their getaway car runs out of petrol on the outskirts of town, sending Mickey into a panic, she calming him down by wafting her hair across his face. They decide to walk, but then, armed with a gun, a bag of cash and a small pharmacy worth of drugs, they see a nearby house and decide to break in and steal the car. The place is empty, or so it seems until they venture down into the basement to find a little girl (Blake Baumgartner) chained to a post.
She doesn’t speak, and horrified at what appears to be a kidnapping, they decide to free her and take off, but while searching for something to unlock her, the owners (Jeffrey Donovan, Kyra Sedgwick) return and, in short order, the kooky criminal lovers find themselves the ones on the wrong bondage end of the situation. Eventually announcing themselves as George and Gloria, their captors are a creepy pair, he all polite Southern charm masking a psychopathic sadism and deep-seated insecurity, she clearly away with the fairies cradling a china doll as her own baby (their infertility the backstory to her madness and why the girl’s in the basement) and doing an erotic dance to arouse the tied-down Mickey.
With their clothes, manner of talking, the house – with its antique TV set, they’re like something out of The Hills Have Eyes were it set in mid-60s rural America. As the advantage shifts back and forth between the two couples, the film builds a deliciously nasty tension (at one point a cop arrives investigating the fugitives who seems to be lining up as another victim) while stirring together a potent cocktail of David Lynch unsettling psychosexuality and Tarantino pulp noir, the two sets of actors delivering perfectly judged performances that balance extreme and controlled manic in equal measure, the film making no excuses for where it wants its audiences sympathies to lie even while Gloria’s frustrated dreams of motherhood render her a sort of Miss Havisham figure by way of Mommie Dearest.
The way everything eventually resolves isn’t entirely unpredictable given what comes before, but even so this engaging oddball crime caper leaves you with a certain sense of satisfaction that it’s exactly how things should be. (Sky)
The Virtuoso (15)
Prior to the arrival of his Oscar-winning turn in The Father, Anthony Hopkins gets to phone in a performance, most of his scenes shot seated at a desk in one room, in this workmanlike thriller as the mysterious paymaster who doles out assignments to his assorted hitmen, One such is Anson Mount’s unnamed contract killer, the taciturn son of one of his old army buddies from Vietnam, who’s the film’s ostensible silver fox star, lives in a remote woodland cabin where he befriends a white collie than keeps turning up and narrates, in dry, deadpan second person style, the requirements that go make a perfect assassin, a virtuoso.
When his latest job results in collateral damage involving the mother of a young boy, he can’t shake it from his mind so, to get him back into shape, he’s handed another job, the details on a piece of paper just saying white rivers and giving a time and a place, Rosie’s, an out of the way diner. Turning up at night, the place is empty save for a man and a woman who may be a couple and a man (Eddie Marsan in essentially a cameo) seated at the counter who’s clearly packing a gun. Could one of these be his target? At one point the local deputy (David Morse) drops by.
Checking into the local motel, taking the room next to Marsan’s character, he proceeds to devise a plan and also returns to the diner where the sultry waitress, Dixy (Abbie Cornish), who’s depping for her sick aunt, has been clearly coming on to him. Returning to the motel she joins him and while she’s sleeping, he slips out to visit the couple from the diner, where, inevitably, further complications and bloodshed ensue.
The film works hard to summon an air of mystery and tension, but anyone who hasn’t worked out what’s going on from the moment he arrives at Rosie’s is clearly new to the genre, the film far less clever than it thinks it is. Despite a not even cursory attempt at an American accent, Hopkins at least gets to deliver one memorable and chilling monologue in a cemetery, even if he is recycling Hannibal Lecter in the telling, and Cornish is always value for money even in a thankless role like this, but the requirements of the character mean Mount is a blank throughout (it’s safe to assume the dog is supposed to signal some sort of humanity within him), making it almost impossible to care about what happens to him. Despite the title, this is very much a duffer. (Amazon Prime, CHILI, Google Play, iTunes Rakuten TV, Sky Store, TalkTalk TV, Virgin Movies)
Wander Darkly (15)
Unwed partners and proud parents of a new baby girl, gallerista Adrienne (Sienna Miller) and carpenter craftsman Matteo (Diego Luna) are on their way home from an event and start bickering over her talking to an ex-boyfriend and whether, given the dysfunctional relationship, they should even be together. He distracted, the car is involved in a head on collision. She wakes up, covered in blood, in a hospital, looking own at her body in a bed and hears herself pronounced dead. She’s horrified and, not yet ready to cross over, successive scenes see her witnessing her distraught parents, her mother (Beth Grant) taking care of the baby, and Matteo unable to deliver the funeral oration.
As the film develops, she discovers he can see her and together they relive and re-enact memories of their time together, one giving way to another, although, tellingly, these don’t always share the same perspective, affording insights into the more complex and deeper nature of their relationship, while she’s conscious of being stalked by some hooded figure.
It’s familiar territory, though less often told from a female viewpoint, but, while the chemistry between the leads sparks the narrative, the dialogue by writer-director Tara Miele is often laboured and clumsy it not entirely hard to figure out the twist to which it’s leading, although the poignantly closing scene certainly compensates. (Amazon Prime, BT, CHILI, Google Play, iTunes Rakuten TV, Sky Store, TalkTalk TV, Virgin Movies)
The War With Grandpa (PG)
Grumpy widower Ed (Robert DeNiro) is persuaded to move in with his daughter Sally (Uma Thurman) and her family. Her husband Arthur (Robert Riggle) isn’t overly happy, mainly because his father-in-law is disparaging and keeps calling him Artie, poppet granddaughter Jennifer (Poppy Gagnon) is over the moon, and sulky teenage Mia (Laura Marano) is only concerned about mum stopping her seeing her boyfriend. But young grandson Peter (Oakes Fegley) is most decidedly put out because they’ve given grandpa his room and he’s had to move into the attic. Disgruntled, he declares a state of war between them and whoever wins gets to keep the room. And so begins a series of childish tit for tat pranks like unscrewing all the furniture, doctoring the cookies, disturbing sleep (all the while two declaring they still love each other), destroying Ed’s marbles collection (one found for every house he built) and escalating into a bouncy dodgeball showdown between Peter and his friends Billy and Emma and Grandpa and his buddies (Christopher Walken, Cheech Marin) and new romantic interest Diane (Jane Seymour).
The boobytraps can’t help but recall Home Alone and the film (which has a similar 80s feel) ambles along enjoyably enough to Poppy’s early Christmas-themed birthday party where it all comes to a head, ruining the celebrations and making the two of them see sense. The heartwarming message about family and how in war there’s no winners, just increasing casualties on both sides, is worthy and the spark between DeNiro and Fegley keeps the film crackling along through its different subplots while young Poppy proves a veritable scene-stealer. (Amazon Prime)
The White Tiger (15)
Adapted from Arvind Adiga’s Booker Prize winning novel, director Ramin Bahrani delivers a scalding satire of contemporary India’s capitalist aspirations that’s as wickedly funny as it is often unapologetically brutal. Raised in a small village where, academically gifted (his teacher dubbing him a white tiger – a rarity of the species, while others later disparagingly refer to him as country mouse), young Balram Halwai’s dreams of pursuing a scholarship education are rudely dashed leaving him to work with his brother breaking coals in the family teashop, his father dead and the family ruled by his domineering granny (Kamlesh Gill).
Some years later, the now grown Balram (Adarsh Gourav) sees a way out of the metaphorical rooster cage when he learns that Ashok (Rajkummar Rao), the American-educated son of their bullying caste conscious landlord the Stork (Mahesh Manjrekar) and more enlightened and neoliberal brother to his father’s enforcer, Mongoose (Vijay Maurya), is looking for a drive. Taking a crash course behind the wheel, he duly turns up at their estate and ingratiates himself into being hired as driver number two, willing servant to Ashok and his fiery Brooklyn raised Indian wife Pinky (Priyanka Chopra) who patronisingly declare him their equal, though that’s patently not the case. They live in a swank apartment, he dosses with the other drivers in the garage basement. By the end of the film one will have left, one will be dead, and one will have become a hugely successful businessman.
Opening in 2007 on a high speed joy ride through Delhi’s deserted night-time streets that stops on a chilling freeze frame, it’s punctuated by clearly wealthier and more sophisticated Balram writing an email in 2010 Bangalore to the visiting the Chinese Premier, Wen Jiabao, recounting his story, why they should meet up and why the future belongs to the brown man and the yellow man, it cuts back and forth to him making his way up the ladder, learning how to skim off the top, the catalyst to his eventual emancipation from servant to master pivoting on a tragic drunk driver hit and run, the consequences of which have ramifications for all concerned.
Both the film’s narrator and anti-hero, Gourav is mesmerising, balancing Uriah Heep-like deference with a psychologically sharp manipulative acumen that hides self-loathing self-interest behind his smile, “sly and sincere at the same time” as he puts it, while the dialogue poses such philosophical questions as “Do we loathe our masters behind a façade of love or do we love them behind a façade of loathing?” and the red bag of bribes Ashok regularly delivers to government officials on behalf of his family underscores the corrupt political system. More Parasite than Slumdog Millionaire, at which it takes a swipe in the early voiceover, its drives along at a propulsive pace to a hip hop soundtrack where you’re never quite sure what’s going to happen, at least until the reason behind the wanted for murder poster becomes shockingly clear, the ultimate message being that money corrupts and the greater the wealth the greater the corruption and the blinder the eyes that are turned. (Netflix)
Wild Mountain Thyme (12)
Described as a spectacular misfire, John Patrick Shanley adapts his play Outside Mullingar as a whimsical romantic comedy set in the Irish countryside, a land populated by exaggerated stereotypes and fanciful accents. Rosemary (Emily Blunt)) and Anthony (Jamie Dornan) grew up on neighbouring farms, she’s always carried an undeclared torch but he’s never cottoned on and now, older, he’s too preoccupied with the fact that his widowed father Tony (Christopher Walken) doesn’t think he’s up to inheriting the place and is considering selling it to his American nephew Adam (John Hamm).
Matters are complicated when Rosemary’s father, famed crow shooter dies and its revealed he’s left the strip of land between the farms, which Tony once sold him, to his daughter. Tony wants to buy it back, but Rosemary’s having none of it. The arrival of Adam, who naturally looks to court her, also offers the possibility of finally getting Anthony’s attention.
It’s quirky to a fault but, while Shanley looks to explore the emotional connections between his characters and how they are unable to express them, and the cast fully embrace the eccentricities, nothing ever really rings true giving the whole things a kind of amiable ramshackle feel with the end result never really in doubt. Blunt is a delight and, as in the recent Barb and Star movie, Dornan shows his comedic side while Walken is, well, Walken and Dearbhla Molloy provides such emotional heft as Rosemary’s mother, Aoife. The title comes from the fact that Tony’s ex-wife used to sing the traditional folk song around the house, naturally setting the scene for as local talent show where Rosemary gets to serenade everyone and bring a tear to his eye. Even so, it might take a bit more to make you want to go lassie go. (Amazon Prime, CHILI, Google Play, iTunes Rakuten TV, Sky Store, TalkTalk TV, Virgin Movies)
The Witches (PG)
Thirty years on since Anjelica Houston vamped her way through Jim Henson’s adaptation of Roald Dahl’s tale, co-written by fantasy horror supremo Guillermo del Toro and Back To The Future director Roger Zemeckis, this casts its own remake spell, staying faithful to the book but injecting a couple of new spins. This time round, set in late 60s Alabama, the unnamed ‘hero boy’ orphaned in a car crash is a young African-American (Jahzir Kadeem Bruno), who goes to live with his grandma Agatha (Octavia Spencer) who plays and dances along to Motown hits to try and cheer him up and also tells him stories about witches, who loathe children, have no toes, claws not hands and are bald, including how, as a child, her best friend was turned into chicken.
Her grandson having encountered a witch in a supermarket, the pair take off to a plush seaside hotel for “rich white people,” (Stanley Tucci more restrained as the manager played by Rowan Atkinson in the original) only to find it’s hosting a convention by The Society For The Prevention Of Cruelty To Children, a cover for a witches’ gathering where the Grand High Witch (Anne Hathaway) reveals her plan to doctor sweets with a potion that will turn children into “miiiiiiice” so they can squish them. Hiding under the stage with his pet mouse, Daisy, the boy is witness to this and sees chubby greedy Bruno (Codie-Lei Eastick) transformed before he himself is sniffed out and suffers a similar fate. Managing to escape with the help of Daisy (Kristin Chenoweth) who turns out to be another victim, the trio now have to get to Agatha, who is a healer with her own potions, so that, together, they can find a way of stopping the dastardly plan.
Bookended by narration by the now older rodent boy (Chris Rock) telling the tale to a group of kids, it’s a fast-paced romp that makes excellent use of prosthetics and CGI as a gleefully over-the-top Hathaway hovers in the air and has her face distort into a Joker-like grin while speaking in an accent that mangles German and Scottish together.
At times genuinely scary for younger viewers with witches exploding and the three mice running through the hotel vents trying to escape the Grand High Witch’s ever extending arms, unlike the previous film it also sticks to Dahl’s bittersweet ending about inevitable mortality, but adds a montage of their America-hopping witch hunts, this is gleeful frightening fun. (Amazon Prime; Sky; Virgin Movies)
Wonder Woman 1984 (12)
The biggest superhero movie of 2020, again directed by Patty Griffin, this is undeniably good fun and comes with a solid moral message about truth and greed, but is far less satisfying than the 2017 original. It starts off in impressive form with the young Diana (Lilly Aspell) competing against older Amazonian warriors in a contest on Themyscira, only to be disqualified for ‘cheating’ by taking a short cut to her objective and, as aunt Antiope (Robin Wright, explains, not following the rule of truth, then shifts to 1984 Washington as the now grown Diana (Gal Godot) makes one of her anonymous appearances, clad in her distinctive red, blue and gold costume with her golden lasso of truth, foiling a jewellery store heist.
As it turns out, the thieves were actually after the shop’s back market artefacts which, recovered by the FBI are taken to the Smithsonian where, in her civilian identity, Diana Prince works. Here she meets new employee Dr Barbara Minerva (Kristen Wiig), a socially awkward, nerdy anthropologist/geologist wallflower whom she befriends and who is assigned the job of identifying her objects. One in particular catches Diana’s attention, a quartz-shaped gemstone that, infused with the power of the Old Gods, can reputedly grant wishes. The only wish Diana has is that her pilot boyfriend from WWII, Steve Trevor (Chris Pine), hadn’t died when he sacrificed himself in the first film. And what do you know, attending a lavish function, she approached by some handsome mystery man whose body, she’s astonished to learn, has been occupied by Steve, although she’s the only one who sees him as such. All is wonderful. Except, of course, it isn’t.
She’s not the only one to have wished upon the gem. Minerva has wished she could be more like Diana; she meant in terms of confidence and grace, unaware that, wish granted, it also comes with superpowers. More crucially, there’s Maxwell Lord (Pedro Pascal), who, promising “ everything you’ve always wanted” in his TV ads is actually con artist with bad hair operating a company called Black Gold that turns out to not have the oil promised its investors and is on the verge of collapse. He’s been chasing the Dream Stone for years and, as the museum’s latest sponsor, has persuaded the besotted Minerva to loan it to him during a fundraiser, whereupon, clearly a big subscriber to the greed is good theory, wishes he himself was the gem, appealing to others’ basic instincts and granting their wishes, from Saudi Arabia to the White House, in return for taking on their wealth, power, etc., to become the master of the world he has promised his young son he will be.
A villain empowered by a magic wish-granting object is a cheesy comic book plot device more appropriate to fairytales (or indeed the horror story The Monkey’s Paw) and, while the be careful what you wish for as it comes at a cost message is relentlessly hammered home as both Minerva and the egomaniacal, Trumpian Lord become transformed for the worse, she taking brutal revenge on a drunk who harassed her earlier and later becoming villainess The Cheetah, and, in the latter’s case, with devastating consequences that, in granting the Reagan-esque President’s wish for more nukes, could cause the end of the world (unless, of course, certain sacrifices are made for the greater good as in the previous film).
There’s some amusing comic fish out of water scenes as Steve adjusts to the technology and fashions of the 80s, the introduction of the comic book’s invisible jet and some breathtaking action set pieces such as an increasingly depowered Diana, vulnerable to being wounded in a road chase with armoured cars in the Egyptian desert, an a couple of showdowns with Minerva, one in the White House in which she does not come off well, and one, rather more ho hum, clad in golden armour from Amazon history. But, while Gadot remains a perfect choice as Wonder Woman (who, of course, is never referred to as such in either film) and the chemistry between her and Pine is palpable, both Wiig and Pascal both ramp up the scenery chewing performances (though, to be fair, she’s not as foamingly over the top as he is), the film with its often clunky dialogue rarely makes a strong emotional connection (though it does all, ultimately, pivot on a parent’s love for their child) and, shoehorned in-between lengthy character-based scenes, the excitement is disappointingly intermittent.
Given the current climate, the message about light triumphing over the dark is certainly welcome and uplifting, as is the moral about being true to yourself and putting those around you first, and, dedicated fans of the character should hang around for a not entirely surprising mid end credits cameo, but, while entertaining enough the screenplay’s sense of actual wonder is somewhat thin on the ground. (Amazon Prime, CHILI, Google Play, iTunes, Rakuten, Sky Store)
Words On Bathroom Walls (12)
An impressive contribution to the teen dysfunction genre, director Thor Freudenthal brings to life the struggle with schizophrenia through the character of Adam (Charlie Plummer) who, with dreams of becoming a chef,
tests his recipes on his single mother Beth (Molly Parker). Life’s complicated by the conflicting voices in his head, physically manifested on screen by imaginary characters such as the oversexed-best-friend figure (Devon Bostick), a supportive hippie girl (AnnaSophia Robb), a manifestation of a romantic ideal from an earlier school, and a burly, cigar-smoking, baseball bat wielding bodyguard (Lobo Sebastian) who seeks to keep the hallucinations under control and step in when Adam’s threatened. In addition, there’s that back smoke and voice whispering to him, prompting episodes that have finally brought him to a Catholic school as his last chance and which agrees not to make his condition public. In an attempt to find normality, he also agrees to a course in experimental medication that banishes his attendant hallucinations.
Here he encounters Maya (Taylor Russell), a bright if blunt-spoken kid who runs a profitable hustle in writing papers for her wealthier classmates (it’s not her only secret) and who, after an initial one-upmanship friction, he gets hired as his after-school tutor. There’s also the resident sympathetic priest (Andy Garcia) he can talk to about things weighing him down. Meanwhile, home life is complicated by mom taking on a live-in lover, Paul (Walton Goggins) who, it would appear is wary of Adam (he hides the kitchen knives) and seems to be pushing to have him committed to professional care. Crises erupt when Maya’s cheating is exposed and the flinty school principal, Sister Catherine (Beth Grant) always on the lookout for Adam to regress, pulls the rug out from under him.
A sort of teen variation on Good Will Hunting, the voice overs and scenes of Adam talking to his never seen shrink feel a touch clunky on the exposition front, but along with the hallucination, the words of the title that play an important part in the narrative, and the slowly gestating romance, not to mention an emotional twist in your expectations, this is a heartwarming gem about acceptance and overcoming adversity. (Amazon Prime, CHILI, Google Play, iTunes Rakuten TV, Sky Store, TalkTalk TV, Virgin Movies)