Ryan’s Reviews

One Wilde night

Olivia Wilde has carved out quite the eclectic career as a director. After exploring female friendships in the wonderfully funny Booksmart, she came back with something entirely different in the shape of Stepford Wives-y thriller Don’t Worry Darling. True to form, her latest film is not what you might have expected. A remake of Cesc Gay’s Spanish film Sentimental, this is a keenly observed chamber piece about a marriage in crisis, with just a quartet of (very special) performances. 

We join married couple Joe (Seth Rogen) and Angela (Olivia Wilde), who are clearly no longer on the same page. He’s angry at the world and unsettled in his music teacher career, she spends her time binge-buying furniture and yearning for something more. Things become even more heated when Angela, despite Joe’s objections, invites their sexually liberated neighbours Hawk (Edward Norton) and Piña (Penelope Cruz) over for dinner. While it starts out as a night full of tension and personality clashes, soon true intentions and hidden desires come to the surface.

Set entirely within Joe and Angela’s claustrophobic apartment, this is a hilarious study in character contrasts. The sharp screenplay, written by Rashida Jones and Will McCormack, skilfully dissects the differences between the key players, full of delicious innuendos that set the stage for what’s to come. With Devonté Hynes’ discordant piano score giving you a glimpse into Joe and Angela’s marital disharmony, the couple bicker about practically everything. The film’s stressful opening argument, about whether or not to invite the guests, is a screaming match for the ages. Meanwhile, the cool and mysterious neighbours upstairs seemingly have it all - including a sex life loud enough to warrant a noise complaint.

So sets the stage for an awkward get together that holds a mirror up to Joe and Angela’s relationship - with disastrously funny results. Though a swinger related twist may be easy to predict (it’s essentially spoiled in the trailer), this is a film full of fun surprises and big laughs. Much of this comes down to the perfectly-pitched performances. Seth Rogen in particular is on great form, his irritability and offhand sarcastic comments leading to some of the film’s biggest laughs. He shares a bitter chemistry with the equally good Wilde, whose highly strung character goes to extreme lengths for the approval of their guests. Norton and Cruz meanwhile, exude pretentious cool and self-assurance, before revealing hidden foibles of their own.

A final act turn towards drama and painful self truths isn’t quite as effective as what’s gone before it, but this is still a winningly caustic comedy-drama. Where Wilde’s exciting directorial career goes next is, refreshingly, anyone’s guess.

Incredibly funny, sad and perfectly performed, Olivia Wilde’s latest film is an invite you won’t regret taking. 

Hallway to hell

Ever thought that directing a film was an old man’s game? Think again. After creating the viral ‘Backrooms’ short series on Youtube four years ago, 20-year-old Kane Parsons was given the keys to direct his brand of uncanny horror in a feature length A24 film. The result, while thin in terms of plotting, is a thrilling experience that translates impressively to the big screen.

The idea of backrooms originally came from an anonymous 4chan user, representing a never-ending passage of liminal, office-like hallways lurking with menace. Think of it as a Severance-esque hidden world not meant for human eyes. This space is the focus of a thrillingly tense early scene, where a found-footage recording is stalked by an entity in the shadows.

Adapting his own series, Parsons and co-writer Will Soodik situate this idea within the mundanity of midlife crisis. We follow Clark (Chiwetel Ejiofor), the alcoholic manager of an underperforming furniture store with a degrading pirate/ottoman theme. Ruing his failed architecture dreams and a relationship breakdown with his wife, Clark bears all to his therapist Mary, (Renate Reinsve) a woman troubled by unsettling dreams of her own. During a night sleeping at his store, Clark unwittingly steps through a portal into the backrooms – a bright yellow alternative dimension made up of mazey hallways.

Is this all a figment of Clark’s imagination? What are those mysterious sounds behind the walls? Why on earth is Mary led to follow him? As Clark delves deeper into this labyrinthine world, the film plays on the fear of what we don’t know. A masterpiece in Danny Vermette’s set design and Jeremy Cox’s cinematography transforms innocuous office hallways into a real source of unease. When Clark recruits two of his employees (Lukita Maxwell and Finn Bennett) to record the hidden depths of the space, it results in a gloriously frightful sequence where your stress levels will be tested.

After the tense early build-up, the film’s revelations don’t quite match up to the uneasy anticipation. Eijiofor and Reinsve are worthy leads, more than capable of elevating the material – he the picture of masculine crises, she the concerned observer coming to terms with past trauma. But the film’s slight plot and subtext is blown exposed in a final act that isn’t as interesting as what went before it.

While it’s a bit rough around the edges, what Parsons masters is a creepy, Lynchian vibe and plenty of twisted ideas. Effectively evoking the feeling of a living nightmare (aided by Edo Van Breeman’s unsettling score), it will leave you with plenty of things to discuss when the credits roll. Not bad for a 20-year-old.

With enough eerie thrills to justify its transition from short to feature film, Backrooms is a tense psychological horror and an assured directorial debut that should open plenty of doors for Kane Parsons.

When Harry Met Manny

A ton of iconic rom-coms have been set in the UK’s capital city, so much so that London has become synonymous with romance and Hugh Grant stammering through a decoration of love. However, less love has been doled out to the city of Manchester - until now that is. Acting as both a love letter to the city - it’s lead character is the spitting image of young Liam Gallagher - and an intelligent, funny film in it’s own right, Finding Emily is one of the brightest rom-com discoveries in years.

Our lovelorn protagonist is Owen (Spike Fearn), a sound engineer working at Manchester Uni’s student union. After a magical club night spent with a student known as ‘Emily’ (Ella Maisy Purvis), he wakes up the next morning to find that the number she gave him is missing a digit. Desperate to locate who he thinks is his dream girl, he plasters posters around the campus, eventually crossing paths with another Emily (Angourie Rice), a psychology student who just happens to be writing a thesis about love being a route to self-sabotage. Deciding that Owen would be the perfect subject for her project, Emily decides to offer help with his romantic mission - crossing a few ethical and romantic lines in the process. 

There won’t be any prizes for guessing where this one is going, but thankfully, the journey to get there is an absolute delight. From first-time director Alicia MacDonald, this plays out like a modern mix of When Harry Met Sally and Rye Lane, focussing on the clash between two very different perspectives on love - he the hopeless romantic who says ‘time stands still’ during a meet-cute, and she the sceptic whose difficulties with romance lead to a more clinical approach. 

With a winning script from Rachel Hirons, this has plenty of big laughs, especially as Owen’s misguided search for his lost love becomes viral on the student campus - for both good and bad reasons. There’s a great set piece where a panicked Owen is surrounded by the 318 chattering Emily’s he accidentally adds to an email chain, as well as an excruciating podcast interview televised for the University. Alongside a soundtrack full of bangers, it’s also graced by a great supporting cast, including Minnie Driver as a very unbothered principle, and Cora Kirk as Emily’s brutally honest BFF.

The film does give way to typical rom-com cliches, including final act sprints to confess feelings, and some slightly underwritten backstories. But despite a plot that becomes growingly ridiculous, this is given freshness by the chemistry between its two leads, and a real sense of grit and realness to its characters. Rice does a commendable job of making Emily, whose actions border on villainous, into an appealing character whose motivations you can understand. And after a run of feature roles in big films, Fearn capably carries the film as a refreshingly different and gawkishly charming leading man. His Owen is a scrappy and endearingly hopeless character who you’ll root for despite his reckless decision-making. Manchester may have found its answer to Hugh Grant.

With a star-making lead performance from Spike Fearn, this is a sweet and frequently hilarious romantic comedy that hopefully won’t take you too long to find.

Phantom Thread

When a pop-star takes to the stage, there’s something quite spiritual about the experience that unfolds between them and their adoring fans. Drawing on the concerts of Taylor Swift for inspiration, David Lowery’s latest film is a spectral look at the cost of fame and pop stardom, and the sacrifices people make to be worshipped at center stage. While it’s perhaps the most accessible Lowery film in recent memory, this is still a musical drama tapped into the director’s strangely compelling sensibilities. 

The pop-star of our attentions is Mother Mary (Anne Hathaway) a saint-like, halo-wearing superstar (think Lady Gaga meets Madonna) who is undergoing a bit of a mental crisis. After breaking down during a costume fitting, Mary winds up at the rainy London doorstep of her old costume designer (and former confidante) Sam (Michaela Coel), desperately requesting a dress for her comeback performance. As the estranged friends reconnect, it becomes clear that this rendezvous is about far more than a dress.

Mostly set within the claustrophobic confines of Sam’s basement design space, these early scenes are a delight. Tensions bubble to the surface as Sam lets out 10 years of resentment at being ditched on Mary’s route to stardom, while Mary slowly unfurls feelings of regret and shocking personal developments. This plays out like a thrilling therapy session, with Coel’s natural comic timing resulting in some deliciously biting dialogue at Mary’s expense, while eventually revealing sadder layers to her character. Hathaway isn’t completely convincing as a musician onstage, but she proves a compellingly fragile presence off it - Mary's tortured silent dance sequence early on is one of the film’s highlights. 

As writer and director, Lowery is adept at slowly drip feeding insights into his character’s interior lives. There are stunning sequences where Sam’s basement gives way to meaningful flashbacks from the past, as well as visually dazzling Mother Mary performances - the songs, written by Jack Antonoff, Charli XCX, and fka twigs are catchy without ever threatening to make their way into your playlist.

Despite what you might expect, this isn’t really a film about music. After exploring the grief of a ghost watching time pass without him in A Ghost Story, Lowery uses a similar medium to explore the grieving of a friendship, as the second half takes a sudden turn towards the supernatural. After a memorably haunting cameo from fka twigs, the film makes a tonal switch that doesn’t entirely work, and many will likely balk at the direction towards spirits and blood rituals.

Perhaps because the story doesn’t clue you into what Mary and Sam’s relationship used to look like, the film could also do with more of an emotional component. This won’t be to all tastes, but there are still enough moments of inspiration to keep you glued to the screen. Like Lowery’s The Green Knight, the film draws on arresting imagery and religious symbolism to clue you into its themes of shared history, what it means to lose part of yourself, and mutual healing. You’ll never think of a Taylor Swift concert the same way again.

It’s not quite a showstopper, but Mother Mary is a poignant and sometimes transcendent film about fame and ruptured relationships, with engaging lead performances from Coel and Hathaway. 

As stressful as a rush hour commute

The time looping plot device from Groundhog Day has been mined for romance (Palm Springs), action (Edge of Tomorrow), and even slasher horror (Happy Death Day). But Japanese horror Exit 8 is perhaps the first film to explore the mundane terror of being stuck in a claustrophobic space without water and outside contact. While it doesn’t completely utilise its interesting premise, this has enough thrills and heart to keep you invested. 

Based on the video game of the same name (the opening section borrows the game’s immersive first-person perspective), we follow the Lost Man (Kazunari Ninomiya), a commuter who nearly has a heart attack upon finding out his ex girlfriend (Nana Komatsu) is pregnant. As if that wasn't stressful enough, he soon discovers he is trapped in a never ending train passageway in the Japanese metro. As the film neatly explains, his only hope of escape is to correctly identify ‘anomalies’ (or the lack thereof) in eight consecutive passages, with Exit 8 marking the end of the loop. Failing to spot the inconsistencies means being doomed to start the game again.

With the internal logic of the film set up, so begins a tense game of pattern recognition, as the Lost Man withstands all sorts of traumatic events. The anomalies range from commonplace visual differences to disturbing distractions, including an unnerving Walking Man (Yamato Kochi) with a tragic backstory, and screaming infants (of various forms) that play on the Lost Man’s fear of being a father. Japanese director Genki Kawamura makes the most of his claustrophobic setting and an atmospheric score by Yasutaka Nakata and Shohei Amimori, the roaming cinematography conjuring a genuine sense of dread about what looms around every sterile corner.

Despite its best efforts to make repetition entertaining - there are three chapters with unique perspectives - this does feel a little tedious at times. Because of the format of the plot, the horror elements are unavoidably mechanical, coming exactly when you’d expect them. Thankfully this does little to rob the film of its momentum. Kazunari makes a compellingly anxious and asthmatic lead, and Kawamura does an excellent job of putting you in his shoes. When the Walking Man befriends The Boy (an impressive Naru Asanuma), the film also shows an unexpected level of warmth during its quiet moments, celebrating the bonds of parenthood. It’s far from subtle, but it’s at least a video-game adaptation that won’t have you rushing to the nearest exit. 

As stressful as a rush hour commute, this is an uneasy and surprisingly heartfelt brand of horror. 

Devilishly disappointing

Satanic rituals are clearly having a bit of moment in cinema right now. After the release of Ready or Not 2: Here I Come just last week, here comes another blood-soaked, satanic survival thriller set in a claustrophobic space. Making that series look grounded in comparison, They Will Kill You offers occasional moments of fun, but mainly suffers from putting style over substance. 

Our heroine this time is Asia (Zazie Beetz), a woman who made the tough decision to abandon her teen sister Maria (Industry’s Myha’la, given very little to do) in a bid to escape an abusive father. After doing time in prison, her search for Maria leads her to become a maid at ‘The Virgil', a mysterious retro hotel led by icy matriarch Lily (Patricia Arquette) and her unusual family. Of course, it turns out to be a satanic cult dead-set on offering up helpless maids as a ritual sacrifice. 

Having been through her fair share of tough situations, the twist is that Asia is far from a damsel in distress. From director Krill Sokolov, this plays out as a sort of Kill Bill meets Ready or Not, as Asia is forced to fight and dismember her way to survival. But while an early revelation about the cult is genuinely surprising (clue: it features regenerating limbs), this lacks the creativity and imagination of either of those films.

Zazie Beetz is a capable action lead, more than up to the physical challenges and clearly having a ball. But she’s lumbered by a script that has little-to-no great one-liners, seemingly content to let the stylistic action do the talking. The action, though visually interesting at times, is more serviceable than inspired, the over-the-top gore becoming dull with repetition. There are only so many times you can get away with a slow-mo action hero shot. Elsewhere, the likes of Tom Felton, Heather Graham and Paterson Joseph (as members of the cultist family) are set adrift with one-dimensional roles that ask nothing of their talents. 

There are moments of loopy fun, like a stalking eyeball that develops a mind of its own, and a chase sequence set beneath some cramped floorboards. But by and large, this is a dark comedy that struggles to find many laughs or a consistently fun tone, and ends up collapsing beneath the weight of its ridiculous logic. With an ending that has more questions than answers, this is not a hotel you’ll want to return to.

Despite a game performance from Zazie Beetz and the odd moment of demented inspiration, this is devilishly disappointing. 

Hopping mad

From the studio that moved us with talking toys and convinced us that rodents could cook, Pixar has never been a studio averse to taking risks. But it’s hard to ignore that the most recent Pixar films have been successful sequels (Inside Out 2) and better-than-average animations that don’t quite linger in the memory (Elio, Elemental). What a relief then, that their latest film Hoppers is one that boldly and hilariously breaks the mould. 

Set in the aptly named US city Beavertown, we follow rebellious teen Mabel (Piper Curda), who opens the film liberating her classroom pets - much to the horror of her mother and teachers. Mabel was misunderstood by everyone but her late grandmother, with whom she had a sweet bond over their mutual love for nature and forest critters. Growing into a stubborn animal rights activist, she comes up against the vain Mayor Jerry (Jon Hamm), who plans to win voters by replacing a beaver dam with an elevated highway. Convinced that finding a beaver is key to stopping his plans, Mabel stumbles on ‘Hoppers’, a university-funded science project that involves putting human consciousness into animal robots to blend in and understand forest animals. As Mabel notes herself, ‘guys, this is just like Avatar!’

The set-up is classic Pixar - an emotional family link, endearing talking animals - but what follows is something more unexpected, as Mabel steals a beaver robot to infiltrate an animal kingdom. From writer-director Daniel Chong, creator of zany cartoon We Bare Bears, this carries much of those irreverent sensibilities here, right down to the inventive and random animal eco system. Mabel befriends a generous beaver king known as King George (joyfully voiced by Bobby Moynihan) who rules his mammal colony like an uplifting dance class, and unearths some sinister developments from the human world.

While the plot might be a lot to take in for younger viewers, this is a riotously good time, with a sharp and funny script from Chong and writer Jesse Andrews. It’s a film that keeps you on your toes with its inspired twists and colourful characters, from a prestigious animal council (each council leader is heralded by a royal procession) to a maniacal caterpillar (voiced with relish by Dave Franco) whose fury against humanity leads to a loopy and delightful second half. Mabel's personal journey might lack the emotional depth and mature message you'd expect from Pixar's very best, but the film is powered by the kind of humour and risky moves that the studio should make more of. 

As fun and fresh as Pixar has been in years, Hoppers is the jolt of madcap energy that the studio needed. 

The Long Walk vs The Hunger Games

Head to any British school playground 10 years ago, and chances are that ‘wasteman’ is the insult you’d hear being thrown around most frequently. Just like its title, this old school, distinctly British prison drama feels like a throwback to a bygone era. Simple but highly effective, it’s a film that does exactly what you’d expect - but does it well.

In typical prison drama style, our protagonist Taylor (The Long Walk’s David Jonsson) is a reclusive parolee who tries to keep to himself. Addicted to drugs and doing time for an unmentioned crime, he’s given the promise of an early release... if he can just keep his nose out of trouble. When the swaggering, defiant Dee (Tom Blyth from The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes) joins as his new cell mate, this looks like an increasingly tall order.

From first-time Director Cal McCu, the following film is focussed and stressful, hinging on the uneasy friendship between these two very different men. As Dee runs a drug operation out of their cell, it leads to inevitable complications with a rival gang, which reaches a predictably tense collision course. If this doesn’t sound wildly original, the truth is it isn’t. The script, written by Hunter Andrews and Eoin Doran, borrows from other brutal prison dramas like Scum and the BBC series Time, offering a few laughs but not a lot that feels new. There are interesting stylistic choices - a slow motion drug montage, random phone recordings from inmates - but these sit rather awkwardly within the tone of the film.

What gives the film its edge is the complex and ever-changing relationship between Taylor and Dee, and two equally magnetic lead performances. Quiet and tortured, Jonsson’s performance endears you to the plight of his character, particularly as he fails to connect with his son on the outside. He shares wonderful chemistry with Blyth, who delivers a performance both highly volatile and strangely likeable. A heavily-tattooed top dog who becomes dangerous when his alpha status is threatened, he provides a complex portrayal of a character who could have been a one-note villain. It’s a film that recognises that prison is a knife-edged battle for survival, but that humanity is in anyone if you look hard enough.

It’s about as subtle as a sock full of snooker balls, but this is still a fierce and hard-hitting prison drama, elevated by strong performances from Jonsson and Blyth.

The Pursuit of Nastiness

No Other Choice is a surprising choice of film for director Park Chan-wook. Like his previous films Decision to Leave and Oldboy, it’s preoccupied with violence, poetic imagery and a conflicted protagonist pushed to great extremes by a miserable situation. But in a first for the director, it’s also an outright comedy, playing out like a Coen Brothers film set in South Korea. A frequently hilarious satire of the capitalist system, the film finds both laughs and a message that will linger long after the credits roll.

Our protagonist Man-Su (Lee Byung-hun of Squid Game) is someone who seems to have it all - a gorgeous wife (Son Ye-jin), two step-children (Woo Seung Kim and So Yul Choi), and the huge family home he was brought up in. But when he gets laid off as the manager of a local paper factory, he’s plunged into a battle to find a new job, and save his family. Forced to consider selling his home, forfeiting his step-daughters cello lessons and even (gasp!) cancelling the family Netflix subscription, he resorts to increasingly desperate means to kill off the competition. 

Based on the novel ‘The Ax’ by Donald E. Westlake, Park’s satire targets the dehumanising nature of the job search, imagining the rat race as a literal fight to the death. A painfully relatable early scene captures the excruciating awkwardness of bad interviews, as Man-Su avoids the harsh glare of sunlight while sweating in the hot seat. Written by Park with Lee Kyoung-mi, Don McKellar and Jahye Lee, the film really kicks into gear when Man-Su devises a masterplan to murder the best candidates for a highly coveted role in the paper industry. 

It soon becomes clear that Man-Su is completely ill-suited to the task. What follows is a funny and farcical string of events, as our desperate protagonist blunders his way through a series of crimes. As the hapless lead character, Byung-hun is completely engaging as a picture of sweaty desperation. He’s great at the bumbling, physical comedy, and just the right side of appealing even as his decisions become reprehensible. Just as impressive is Ye-jin as his increasingly exasperated wife Miri, who struggles to deal with her husband’s obsessions. This is as much a dark comedy as it is a sad story about a struggling marriage, and how careers can take over your personal lives. Park also gives depth to the poor saps unlucky enough to be in Man-Su’s way - Lee Sung-min’s performance as an alcoholic paper obsessive will break your heart. 

At just over two hours, the film is guilty of belabouring its point a bit too much in a dragging middle section. But Park’s mastery of the language of cinema always shines through - there are stunning dissolves and dreamlike images captured by cinematographer Woo-hyung Kim, as well as an atmosphere of grime that mirrors Man-Su’s actions. This may be Park Chan-wook’s first venture into comedy, but on this evidence, he has No Other Choice but to continue. 

Darkly comic, clever and tinged with sadness, No Other Choice is a killer comedy-thriller, and a perfect candidate for a night of entertainment at the cinema. 

A devil of a time

28 Days Later films are like buses. You wait ages for one, and then two come at once. Just six months after Danny Boyle’s thrilling, surprising return to infected Britain, director Nia DaCosta (Director of The Marvels and Candyman) offers her unique spin on the universe, which follows directly after that batshit ending to 28 Years Later. The resulting film takes the series in an excitingly twisted direction, with a conclusion that’ll have you eager to see more. 

We join our former protagonist Spike (a terrified Alfie Williams) right where we left him - in dangerous company. After a violent baptism into Jimmy Crystal’s (Jack O’Connell) demonic cult of Jimmies (everyone is named Jimmy, with the exception of Emma Laird’s loopy Jimmima), Spike witnesses unspeakable horrors as he battles for survival. Elsewhere, we join barmy Dr. Kelson (Ralph Fiennes) on an altogether different mission. After taming a giant infected Alpha that he names Samson (Chi Lewis-Parry), he explores the possibility of bringing humanity back to those infected by the Rage Virus.

Like the previous film’s ending suggested, this is a completely different beast to Boyle’s 28 Years Later. Written again by Alex Garland, this plays out as an urgent, consistently intense survival film, exploring two very different belief systems in an apocalyptic world. Boyle described this sequel as an exploration of the roots of evil, and Jimmy’s seven-fingered cult are right at the heart of it. Modelled on a mixture of Jimmy Saville and the Teletubbies (they sport blonde wigs and multi-coloured tracksuits), the group treat human survivors and infected as one in the same - ritual sacrifices to ‘Old Nick’, a satanic figure based on Jimmy’s father.

As self-appointed leader Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal, O’Connell delivers a masterclass in gleeful monstrosity, verbosely spouting threatening monologues that have his followers, and the audience, hanging onto his every word. You can completely believe how this magnetic figure has gone from searing trauma to command a following of his own, using nonsensical dogma to carry out his evil plans. One seemingly never ending torture scene shows the lengths Jimmy is willing to go to assert control, wince-inducing in its brutality. 

With the exception of one or two propulsive chase sequences, it’s the scenes featuring the infected that provide a sense of respite to the story. As Dr. Kelson tries to understand the infection by experimenting on a heavily sedated Samson (in a first for the series, there’s infected ballroom dancing), DaCosta draws on tranquil natural imagery to show you Kelson’s vision for a better world. It’s a fascinating extension to the mythology that enables Fiennes to play a central role - his humorous and empathetic performance is the soul of the film. 

As worlds collide in a dazzling finale, the film feels further than ever from the series’ humble foundations. But that is just what makes these films so effective. While staying true to its portrayal of humanity under duress, you never know quite where it will go next. With any luck, the final film in this trilogy will come sooner, rather than 28 Years Later. 

As bold as it is barbaric, Nia Da Costa’s film is an engaging and unforgiving expansion of the 28 Days Later world. It’s anybody’s guess where this unpredictable series will go next.

The cinematic equivalent of a warm hug

It’s a common cliché in cinema that a location in a film is a ‘character’ in its own right.  But that’s truly the case in Sentimental Value, where a family house is the stage for a family drama about generational trauma, mental health and estranged families. From The Worst Person in the World Director Joachim Trier, this is another smart and sumptuous study of flawed human beings, and the formative family memories that shape them.

In a poetic opening (one gorgeous shot of many by cinematographer Kasper Tuxen DFF), Trier uses a Norwegian family house to tell the story of a family divided. Nora (Renate Reinsve), an actress currently performing onstage, was just a teen when she witnessed the separation of her parents, which left a more indelible impact on her than her well-rounded sister Agnes (Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas, excellent). Her father, the renowned film director Gustav Borg (Stellan Skarsgard), is a charismatic man in public, but isn’t quite as good connecting with his own daughters. After ditching them to focus on his career, he returns for a comeback film loosely based on the tragic suicide of his mother, which occurred in the same house. The story he conjures is tailor-made for Nora as the lead, but their estranged relationship gives her huge doubts about committing.

Written together with his regular collaborator Eskil Vogt, this is a film low on event, but high on emotion. Here, the emotion comes from the authenticity of the characters and the way they are written. Gustav’s return sets off a natural spiral of events that enables Trier to tackle ambitious topics like depression, the challenge between personal success and family commitments, and the power of art to express things that words can’t. Despite these weighty themes, the film acts best as a tender character study of broken people.

Renate, a revelation in The Worst Person in the World, expertly channels the altogether different messiness of Nora here, a woman whose childhood experiences of bickering parents lead to pre-performance panic attacks and intimacy issues. Her struggles with depression are manifest in her expressions, as is her deep desire for a better relationship with her father. Her connection to sister Agnes is also tenderly played, and their natural performances would fool you into believing they are really sisters. As the complicated patriarch, Stellan navigates a delicate balance between outwardly charming and confident, but then tragically clueless in the way he connects to the people most important to him. You’ll will these endearing characters to make everything work out, somehow.

This might all sound very deep (and it is), but it’s also very funny. Trier revels in highlighting the awkwardness of family members who aren’t used to interacting with each other. When Gustav drafts famous American actress Rachel Kemp (sympathetically played by Elle Fanning) to play the role of his muse in his incredibly personal film, the tension between the personal and professional is accelerated. It gives Trier an opportunity to poke fun at the superficiality of Hollywood and acting as an exercise - the moment where Gus tricks Rachel about the historic significance of an IKEA stool is truly hilarious.

If there is any small drawback, it’s that a subplot involving Agnes tracing the roots to her grandmother feels slightly underdeveloped. But this hardly detracts from a beautifully played story that will touch anyone familiar with troubled family relationships. With a Boxing Day release, is there any better film to take your relatives to in the holidays?

Sweet, sad and awfully funny, this well-performed family drama rubber stamps Joachim Trier’s status as a master storyteller of imperfect (but beautiful) human relationships.

Yor of the Worlds

Yorgos Lanthimos has established himself as the marmite of directors – some people love his work; some people hate it. Lurching from the brilliant Poor Things to the bemusing Kinds of Kindness, you never know quite what you’ll get. His latest collaboration with Emma Stone and Jesse Plemons finds his strange sensibilities at the perfect register, recalling the funny power dynamics of The Favourite. At once wacky and batshit crazy, it’s also one of his most focussed and gripping films.

It all starts with a typically eye-catching high concept. We follow conspiracy theorist Teddy (Jesse Plemons), along with his autistic cousin Don (Aidan Delbis), living in a shack in the middle of small-town America. Convinced that there are aliens intent on breaking down the fabric of human society, Teddy hatches a plan to kidnap Michelle Fuller (Emma Stone), the indomitable CEO of a shady pharmaceutical company who Teddy believes has all the characteristics of an advanced alien life form. But is she really an ‘andromedan’ or has Teddy completely lost his marbles?

What follows is a battle of wits, as Teddy uses a variety of methods – including torture and hair-shaving - to get Michelle to come clean about her extraterrestial connections, and maybe even broker a meeting with her mothership. A reimagining of the Korean film Save the Green Planet!, Will Tracy has a lot of fun with this silly premise, from which he both explores the heartlessness of American corporations (Amazon seems the obvious target), and the human capacity for control and subjugation. While Teddy drags his vulnerable cousin along for the ride, Michelle deploys all her corporate skills to get the advantage.

By playing his film completely straight, Lanthimos draws plenty of laughs from the situation. As Michelle is imprisoned in an underground dungeon, there are darkly comic moments involving chemical castration, terminally online alien mythology and cringe-inducing corporate jargon speak. These are interluded by surreal, black-and-white flashbacks that give the film an off-kilter, otherworldly feel. It’s also at times incredibly sad, as Teddy’s personal grievances towards Michelle’s company are linked to the coma of his mother (Alicia Silverstone).

As ever, Lanthimos profits from having a game cast who completely delve into the worlds of their characters. In her fourth onscreen collaboration with the director, Stone is marvellous as a fierce, seemingly impenetrable CEO who presents letting her employees leave at 5:30pm as a great benefit, while reminding them that quotas need to be fulfilled. You can completely see her as inhumane being from another planet. Plemons also does great work as a disturbed man who may or may not be on the brink of losing his mind, drawing sympathy for his character’s ordeal. In a stunning debut performance, Aidan Delbis steals the heart of the film as the gentle soul caught in the middle of the central tete a tete. It is a credit to these performances that who you side with will ebb and flow as the film goes on.

Whether you’re stressed, shocked or perplexed, this is never anything less than thrilling. It all heads towards an insane finale that will either lose you entirely or make it your film of the year. In other words, a typical Yorgos Lanthimos film.

Silly, serious and sad, this is a compelling film about power and human relationships, confirming Lanthimos as a cinematic voice from another planet.

F***ing brilliant

Tourette syndrome is a condition that a lot of people have heard of, but very few people know much about. So, spare a thought for Tourette’s activist John Davidson MBE, who grew up with Tourette’s at a period where few people knew what it was. His inspiring true story is at the heart of this wonderful biopic, which unfolds with plenty of humour, hard-to-watch moments and heaps of compassion for its subject.

Set in Galashiels Scotland, we first see a young John (Scott Ellis Watson) as a confident and cheeky schoolboy in the 1980s. But while his future looks bright, we see his confidence slowly chipped away by sudden tics and swearing, which leads to school bullying and misunderstanding from his parents. These heart-breaking scenes set the tone for what comes ahead, with strong work from Ellis Watson putting you right in John’s uncomfortable shoes.

Flash forward 13 years and John (played by Robert Aramayo), now officially diagnosed with Tourettes, is in limbo, heavily medicated by a mother (Shirley Henderson) who treats his condition as a burden. Things change when a chance encounter leads him to his friend’s mother Dottie (Maxine Peake), a kind-hearted former mental health nurse who spurs him on to get off his medication, and out into the world.

The world awaiting him is, unfortunately, quite an unforgiving one. From writer-director Kirk Jones, the film doesn’t shy away from the lowest periods of Davidson’s life, where his sweary outbursts leads to misunderstandings, night-club fist-ups, and even run-ins with the police. Despite these difficult moments, this is a film full of hilarity and hope. The idea of saying the wrong thing at the most inappropriate times is one that Jones milks for dark comedy, from John blurting out that Dottie has cancer, to calling himself a paedophile mid job interview.

The film is also uplifted by a host of warm performances. Best known for playing young Ned Stark in Game of Thrones, Aramayo is an absolute revelation in the lead role. He throws himself into the physical demands of the role, but this is far more than just a display of accurate tics and outbursts. He also conveys John’s sense of self-loathing and isolation, as well as the joy and relief he feels to finally be understood.

There are also great performances from the important people in John’s life. Peake is an absolute delight as a super supportive maternal figure, while Peter Mullan gets plenty of laughs as a no-nonsense caretaker of a community centre who gives John a job and encourages him to educate the world about Tourette’s. As John’s dismissive mother, Henderson is also given a touching moment of redemption.

When John steps into his role as a campaigner for Tourette awareness, the film does lose some of its edge and perhaps suffers from having a few more endings than necessary. But it’s hard to bemoan a film with such a warm-hearted, positive spirit. You may not know much about Tourette’s, but this film will have you eager to find out more.

Anchored by Aramayo’s incredible lead performance, this is a heart-warming and occasionally upsetting film that will leave you laughing, crying and cursing in joy.

Nearly a match made in heaven

Brett Goldstein and William Bridges are clearly fascinated by the idea of predestined love. After putting their minds together to create sci-fi show Soulmates, the duo are back for another achingly funny romance about a match-making service backed up by science. If you loved the sight of Goldstein showing Roy Kent’s emotional side in Ted Lasso, All of You is designed to tug at your heartstrings. 

Using a similar blueprint to sci-fi romance Fingerprints, this is set in a futuristic version of London where a scientific match-making service (based on an eye-test) has taken hold of the dating scene. Journalist Simon (Goldstein) and publisher Laura (Imogen Poots) have been BFFs since uni, but while he hates the idea of the service (he compares it to being given an unwrapped toaster for Christmas), she is ready to give it a go. It’s only when Laura is matched to the seemingly perfect guy that the pair realise they are desperately in love with each other. 

So unfolds a tragic story of will-they-won’t-they, as we drop in and out of the the pair’s lives during crucial moments. While Laura gets serious with an almost overwhelmingly understanding man (Steven Cree), Simon struggles to replace the spark he has with Laura. Telling their love story through stolen glimpses is a masterful story-telling decision from first-time director William Bridges, letting us pick up on new developments without needing to spell everything out, and making the pair’s disagreements even more painful. It helps that the chemistry between Goldstein and Poots is so strong - at points you’ll want to shake them to make them realise the power of their connection.

The film enters slightly shaky territory when the friends start to formalise the obvious love they have between them - without much consideration for the people around them. The writing of the central characters could have used a bit more care, particularly Laura, whose decisions become selfish and hurtful kind of out of nowhere. You’ll struggle to understand why Simon puts up with the romantic distress - is ‘love’ a good enough explanation? - robbing the ending of its intended emotional wallop.

That it still works is testament to great lead performances and relentlessly funny writing. While Goldstein is a natural at playing a loveable and gruff lead who struggles with talking through his emotions, Poots lends depth and empathy to a character struggling with guilt and self-hate. Goldstein and Bridges have a gift for relieving a sad moment with a big laugh, with some of the best moments simply coming from silly bits of improvisation. The result may be more funny than it is moving, but its still a bold and honest look at relationships and heartbreak.

If it doesn’t quite move you to tears, this is still a funny and often painfully real romantic drama, with wonderful performances from Goldstein and Poots.

A summer smash hit(man)

Nobody really saw Nobody coming. A surprisingly fun action thriller, it was like Taken on steroids - with an unexpected family man/former hitman (played by Saul Goodman) showcasing his particular set of skills. Off the back of that film’s success, writer Derek Kolstad (the brains behind John Wick) has inevitably returned for a sequel that, while entertaining in parts, doesn’t quite capture the frivolous fun of the original.

After the events of the first film left our intemperate protagonist indebted to some shady characters, Hutch Mansell (Bob Odenkirk) has become snowed under by lethal odd jobs. So wrapped up in fulfilling violent assignments to pay off a debt, he barely has time to devote to his children and long-suffering wife (Connie Nielsen given very little to do). So in a bid to get some much-needed family time, Bob proposes a visit to Plummerville, the cheesy holiday park that his father (a kooky Christopher Lloyd) once took him to as a child. But while he envisions a break filled with water slides and other amusements, he unwittingly uncovers an underground drug cartel run by a ruthless crime boss (Sharon Stone).

This is a fun enough premise, even if it does just exist to get Hutch back on another warpath. The issue is a lot of it doesn’t quite work. Written by Kolstad and Aaron Rabin, the script makes a point of showing how Hutch wants to resist violence for the benefit of his family, but he repeatedly throws himself into punchy scenarios, the film revelling in showing that violence is in fact the answer.

It’s also very formulaic, with cringey action hero dialogue, and random additions that look cool but don’t add anything to the story – did we really need RZA as a childhood friend who happens to be handy with a katana? Sharon Stone adds some colour as a lunatic killer in stylish shades and a penchant for dancing before going on kill sprees, but she’s lumbered by an otherwise underwritten villain role.

Let’s face it though - no-one really tunes in to this series for an interesting plot. And where action is considered, Nobody 2 absolutely delivers. Switching directors from the first film to gory horror director Timo Tjahjanto, there’s even more emphasis on wince-inducing John Wick-esque fist fights, as teeth, blood and other body parts spray the cinema screen. Odenkirk is great value as a stressed-out action man, and it’s thrilling watching him lose his chill at the most precarious moments, using every weapon at his disposal (life jackets, a harpoon, a whack-a-mole) to lay waste to entire rooms of men. And while the final act doesn’t make a jot of sense, it might be the preposterous ending this character deserves.

It’s still a thrill to watch Odenkirk violently dispatching armies of goons, but nobody will complain if the series concludes here.

Clay Guevera

When it released nearly a decade ago, French animation My Life as a Courgette proved a breath of fresh air. Earning an Oscar nomination for his efforts, writer-director Claude Barras hand-crafted a film with distinctive stop-motion characters, and surprisingly adult themes. True to this tradition, his latest film weaves topics like deforestation and personal grief into the clay-moulded madness, even if it does lack the power and subtlety of his first film.

Savages starts in pretty savage fashion. Set in the rainforests of Borneo, we witness a mother orangutan being brutally killed by construction workers focused on deforestation, leaving her baby to fend for itself. This is also seen by protected teen Kéria (Babette De Coster), who together with her father (Benoît Poelvoorde), take orangutan child Oshi under their care. When her young native cousin Selaï (Martin Verset) comes to stay, she is drawn into a conflict between her indigenous Penan family and an evil corporation dead-set on turning their home into a plantation.

This is heavy material for your average animation, but it’s also a story told with plenty of colour and visual quirks. Much of this comes down to the sublime clay stop-motion design (you can see the lovingly crafted etch marks on faces), as well as the random flecks of humour – the chief of the Penan people has an ‘Eye of the Tiger’ ringtone. It’s also admirable how the film manages to make a protest movement and indigenous rights the centrepiece of an otherwise family-friendly animated film.

If only the story were as radical as the subject matter. Burdened by a middle section that feels slightly sluggish, the plot goes down a familiar path as Kéria rediscovers her native roots and learns to stick it to the man – the man in this case being some very one-dimensional villains. The script threatens to plunge the emotional depths of Courgette, particularly in its tragic exploration of the relationship between Kéria and her late Penan mother, without quite scaling these heights. The result is a film that feels cute and amusing but won’t exactly linger in the memory.

A conventional plot prevents this from being a film you scream about from the treetops, but the ingenious animation and visual humour will entertain kids and adults alike.

A forgettable date with destiny

‘There is sense in everything’, so says a wise character in Four Letters of Love. Certainly, the idea of destiny is one that permeates the romantic genre. But few romance stories take this concept as literally as Niall Williams’ destiny-themed romance novel, where everything, however horrible, happens for a reason. This adaptation is well-intentioned, but also ironically lacking much in the way of sense.  

Set in 1970s Dublin, we follow aspiring writer Nicholas (glumly played by Fionn O’Shea), whose life takes a dark turn when his dad (Pierce Brosnan in a kooky and sagely role) spontaneously quits his job and leaves home to paint the sea in West Ireland. When his poor mum passes away as a result, Nicholas quite rightly questions why God makes the decisions he does. Elsewhere, on the West Irish coast, free-spirited teenager Isabel (an impressive Ann Skelly) has similar questions of faith as she deals with the sudden disability of her brother, and an unfulfilling romance with a charming manchild.

As serendipity slowly brings the troubled teenagers together, it wouldn’t take a fortune teller to work out where this is heading. The trouble is, the road to this destination is far from convincing and somewhat laughable, with a string of unfortunate events that we are led to believe are driven by divine purpose. Adapted for the screen by director Polly Steele, this is a film where everyone seemingly speaks through wise epithets about life, where characters and their motivations are thinly sketched and explained by allusions to God. There’s also an extremely overplayed score to tell audiences what they should feel, and when.

Some of the relationships work – particularly that between Helena Bonham Carter and Gabriel Bryne as Isabel’s parents, who give the film some of the depth its lacking. But in a story about two destined lovers, it’s difficult to buy into their relationship when they spend much of the film apart, with a dull voiceover to fill in for real emotions. It’s not enough to use fate to explain a romantic connection - you have to believe in it too.

If fate had its way, Four Letters of Love would have lavished more love on its characters than it does on its stunning montages of the sea. Instead, this fateful romance rings hollow.