#screen review

Impossible to not fall in love with. It's hilarious, heart-breaking and heart-mending, and so charmingly sweet it would be saccharine if it wasn't so beautifully earnest - thanks to beautiful writing and exquisitely pure performances from Brendan Fraser and a gorgeous ensemble cast.

A terribly human picture in all its brutality and gritty hope (oh, that scene in the city). Hoffman and Jonsson center a great ensemble of broken men, plodding along on the not-metaphorical-enough endless road. The ending is a bit clumsy, Hamill is a distracting cartoon, and Pete is too perfect (Jonsson making him mean something is a staggering achievement), but overall this is a powerful and provocative effort.

While it is too long, I must credit its editor for keeping in exactly what was necessary for everything to fall into place - often in subtle, unspoken ways. But really, keeping everything in was a missed opportunity to focus on the central relationship, which was affecting (that final performance was breathtaking) but far less so than it could have been. Performances: excellent. Score & sound: exquisite. Editing: masterful. Script: unfocused, taking on far too much.

A palpable and immersive atmosphere, crackling with texture, colour, light, and shadow, and a provocative concept leave strong impressions, even after the overcomplicated finale tackles more than it needs to. It's nearly brilliant, just that little bit drawn out and indulgently messy, but earnest in its imperfection and well worth the journey.

The worldbuilding is immaculate cinematic pulp sword & sorcery, with the tactile sets, diverse cast, culturally agnostic plasticky design, strange cults and unexplained witches, and unique locales - so it's a shame the script is so bad and the star is a wooden charisma drain. Even the great Mako's voiceover is wretched work. Thank Crom the vibes and design are trumps, otherwise the deck is stacked to make this unwatchable.

It's a shame the conspiracy takes such a back seat, as the through line is very uneven (debatably it's more about Rembrandt's lovers than the painting), but when every single frame is as stunningly crafted as it is, you hardly need a story at all. Yet it's impossible to say that composition, colour, and image is everything here (despite it being genuinely that good), because Freeman gives a great performance and there is ever so often, detached from any relevant plot, a quite beautiful, poetic line. "Miles and miles of painted darkness..."

It's not quite a portrait of Ann Lee, but it's not a landscape of the Shakers, either; landing somewhere between, it fails to achieve either effect to its full degree. It's an unusual musical of catchy refrains, unsettling gloom, and divided - or even missing - purpose; hard to wrangle into a review, but at least somewhat admirable, I think, in its atypicality.

A colourful, sensitive, precious little delight. Lovely imagery and music propel the simple story like a skipping stone across a deeper pond; there is no need for Little Amélie to dwell in its depths: a kiss from a koi and the ripples of rain, a glimpse of the dark below and the golden sun above, and we're at the other side among the nodding flowers and drooping ginko.