Baby Driver

As far as elevator pitches go, 'a car chase movie where the action is synced to its soundtrack' is a pretty great one, especially when it's coming from none other than Edgar Wright himself. As the man behind the brilliant Scott Pilgrim vs. The World it's clear that Wright is maybe the most inventive and original writer/director working today, and with a pitch that great I was sure that as with his previous films, his latest would be another film I'd love dearly - so why is it that Baby Driver left me slightly cold?

It's something I've been pondering since seeing the film, and ultimately I think it comes down to a question of individual taste rather than objective quality. Baby Driver is just as tightly-crafted as any of Wright's previous movies, utilising his almost trademark fast-paced editing style in combination with a non-stop soundtrack and some neat choreography to create something that feels totally unique, stylistically - unfortunately, it's all in service of characters and a story that I simply couldn't force myself care about, and all the style in the world can't make up for that.

The biggest problem with the film's fairly straight forward narrative is that it relies on us caring about Baby and his relationship with Deborah without ever doing the work to make that happen. In truth, I was surprised by just how bland Baby is as a protagonist - Wright's films have always been full of vibrant, interesting characters with distinctive personalities, but Baby is little more than a generic, capable nice guy whose defining personality trait is that he likes music. Even with actor Ansel Elgort being as charming as possible, Baby's lack of depth and definable personality makes it difficult to really invest in the character, and as such the action sequences, while incredibly well-made on a technical level, lack the engagement and stakes that they could and should have had.

This is Wright's first film as the sole credited writer, and I have to wonder if that has anything to do with Baby Driver's problems. His direction here is as brilliant as ever, but the script simply is neither as tight nor as funny as his previous movies, indicating to me that he could well be a writer that needs a partner to bounce ideas off of to get the best results. That's not to say that Baby Driver isn't funny at times - there are multiple laugh-out loud moments, including a great scene where Baby cases a Post Office with an unlikely ally - but the magnitude and frequency of gags is a long way away from other Wright classics like Hot Fuzz, and that's only to the films detriment.

In fairness to Baby Driver, I'm sure I'd like it more upon re-watching it free from the dizzying expectations I had initially - but for now, it's a film that I can only appreciate for it's craft and it's soundtrack rather than genuinely like.

Battle of the Sexes

With Academy Award winner Emma Stone at the forefront as tennis champion Billie Jean King, Battle of the Sexes is great fun to watch, pitting her against Academy Award nominee Steve Carell as the eccentric, former tennis pro — and infamous male chauvinist — Bobby Riggs, as they face each other on and off the court in what was the most-watched sporting event of its time.

Set in 1973, the film finds King in a career slump. Having just left their current organization over an equal pay dispute, she and the rest of her female tennis-playing comrades decide to head to the inaugural WTA Women’s Tour for a dollar each, thus fueling the argument of whether women tennis players should earn the same amount as their male counterparts when many deemed them to be neither as good nor as entertaining as the men.

With all of this happening — and with Riggs being particularly outspoken about what he felt was lacking on the women’s side of the sport — King’s game takes a downward spiral. Losing the title of women’s world number one to her competitor, Margaret 'The Arm' Court, Jessica McNamee, the 29-year-old King is left to pick up the pieces of her game, while at the same time dismissing Riggs’ attempts to lure her into a match that would decide once and for all which gender ruled supreme on the tennis court.

Aside from having to contend with Riggs and her own professional problems, King also had some personal battles that came to light while on the WTA Tour. Although married to her husband, Larry, Austin Stowell, she was hiding a secret — one deemed deeply problematic if she planned on continuing her career in tennis. On top of this, the movie also depicts Riggs' struggles with gambling and the marital problems between him and his wife, making for a tense match of back-and-forth action on and off the court for both main characters.

Coming off of her Oscar-winning turn in La La Land, Emma Stone perfectly portrays Billie Jean King. As King's public and personal life collide, Stone’s performance is both gripping and believable. Meanwhile, Steve Carell as Bobby Riggs is a joy to behold, as he nails Riggs’ exuberance, excitement and showboating ways with ease. Suffice to say, it's hard not to focus on him when he’s on screen, especially when co-stars Sarah Silverman and Alan Cumming are equally scene-stealing, possessing perfect comedic timing and delivering the most moving moments of the film.

Directed by the duo of Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris, Little Miss Sunshine and Ruby Sparks, the movie is shot very much like a tennis match. It has its ups and downs, and set points and match points, but it ultimately arrives at a happy conclusion for all parties involved. That said, the final on-court showdown between King and Riggs felt anticlimactic.

Ultimately, Battle of the Sexes isn't just entertaining, but also serves to share many lessons concerning equality that still prove very pertinent today.

The Lego Batman Movie

As a spin-off from 2014's surprisingly good The Lego Movie, The Lego Batman Movie had a lot to live up to. The Lego Movie was in many ways a breath of fresh air, a funny, subversive, wholly original film. Following that up was always going to be a challenge, one only made all the more difficult by centering the movie around one of pop cultures most recognisable icons - and yet The Lego Batman Movie is by and large a success, albeit not quite to the same degree that it's predecessor was.

The reason for that success is simple - much like The Lego Movie, there is a sense of purpose to the film that gives it a reason to exist beyond mere corporate interests. The Lego Batman Movie positions Lego Batman not as a distinct version of Batman but as an all-encompassing overview of the character as he has existed in pop-culture for the last eight decades, a conglomeration of all previous canon that allows the movie to act as both a cunning meta-commentary on the Batman franchise and a celebration of the character's many incarnations over the years.

For most of its running time the film has a firm grasp on both of these aspects of itself, resulting in a movie that is practically a must-see for fans of Batman thanks to its fairly comprehensive deconstruction of the character. But that's not to say that those with only a passing knowledge of Batman won't be able to enjoy it - even if you miss half the references that The Lego Batman Movie throws at its audience, it's still very entertaining thanks to some fairly robust storytelling and - more importantly - a great sense of humour. The film's willingness to lovingly poke fun at its own main character is a refreshing change of pace when compared to how seriously he demands to be taken in other films.

Unfortunately, The Lego Batman Movie isn't able to maintain a high level of quality throughout its running time, and as the film progresses the comedy gets broader and the themes are pushed further to the background in favour of an action-packed but ultimately vacuous finale. It's not a bad finale, but it pales in comparison to that which precedes it in a way that can't help but leave a bad taste in the mouth. Most of The Lego Batman Movie is best described as an interesting take on Batman that also functions as a children's film - such a shame, then, that it ends as a children's film that happens to include an interesting take on Batman.

Still, it's hard to grumble too much when most of the film entertains to the standard that it does. It's funny, it's earnest, and it's a blast of geekery that should please anyone with an interest in superheroes.

Thor: Ragnarok

Bringing What We Do in the Shadows and Hunt for the Wilderpeople director Taika Waititi on board was the best decision Marvel made in relation to the third installment of the Thor films. With Thor: Ragnarok, Waititi has taken all that didn't work about the previous films and thrown it straight in the garbage, clearing the table for him to completely reinvent the franchise.

We rejoin the titular God of Thunder two years after the events of Avengers: Age of Ultron, in which time he has been travelling around the universe in an attempt to learn as much about the Infinity Stones as possible. After finding out that it is Loki, not Odin, who sits on the throne of Asgard, Thor confronts his brother and travels with him to Earth in order to find Odin and return him to the throne - but ends up accidentally stranded on the junk planet Sakaar in the process, leaving Asgard vulnerable to attack from Hela, the Goddess of Death.

By pushing the plot to the background for much of its running time, Waititi is able to focus on the bits of the film he's actually interested in, such as the characters and their interactions with one another. It also means that the drama of Thor: Ragnarok is only ever serviceable at best. There's a balancing act going on here that I don't think Waititi executes perfectly, meaning that your enjoyment of Thor: Ragnarok is ultimately going to depend far more on if you Waititi's character direction than on the plot itself. 

Fortunately, I love Waititi. While the film undoubtedly lacks the emotional resonance of his previous films (most likely a by-product of this being the first of his movies that he hasn't also written), his unique voice still manages to shine through thanks to the amount of creative freedom he's clearly been given around the studio-mandated story beats. It's a hilarious movie thanks to the irreverent, naturalistic, quasi-improvisational sense of humour that made Waititi popular and that imbues the film with the kind of energy and originality that some other Marvel films have sorely lacked. As someone who was laughing throughout, I found Thor: Ragnarok to be among the better Marvel Studios films released in recent years.

The Revenant

Set in 1823, The Revenant is based loosely on the true story of Hugh Glass, a man who was left for dead by his fellow hunters after an attack from a Native American tribe. We follow him as he attempts to make his way through the wilderness and back to civilization, where the man who betrayed him remains unaware that not only is Hugh Glass still alive, but also determined to get his revenge.

Beyond the undeniably gorgeous cinematography from Emmanuel Lubezki and the impressive "one take" action sequences that are littered throughout, The Revenant deserves none of the critical acclaim it has seen. An undeniably interesting concept, the story of Hugh Glass is wasted in a film that desperately reaches for depth that isn't there thanks to the ego of director Alejandro González Iñárritu. This ego shouldn't really come as a surprise to anyone who has seen his previous film Birdman but it was easy to forgive in a movie that was legitimately entertaining, both on a technical level and as an interesting character piece (no matter how misguided its commentary on Hollywood may have been). It is harder to forgive here - winning the Academy Award for Best Picture, Best Director and Best Original Screenplay for Birdman seems to have inflated that ego even more, and it has manifested itself in a film that never allows you to forget that you are watching an Alejandro González Iñárritu Picture in all its glory. He's more interested in appearing great than he is in actually making a great film, something which when combined with a great cast and one of the best cinematographers in the world results in The Revenant being deceptively mediocre.

No matter how much DiCaprio went through during filming, his role in The Revenant is nothing more than "good enough", and it's a shame that an actor widely regarded as one of the best working today was critically acclaimed for a role which doesn't actually show why people think that. All the other name actors in the film are significantly better in their roles, something which just further highlights how strange the decision to nominate DiCaprio is. Tom Hardy and Domhnall Gleeson are obviously captivating as John Fitzgerald and Captain Andrew Henry respectively, but I'd also like to make special mention of Will Poulter. Seeing him give a genuinely interesting performance was actually one of the few things in The Revenant that I enjoyed without some kind of reservation, and I hope that we see more of this side of Poulter in the future.

Is The Revenant exactly what Iñárritu wanted it to be? Almost certainly, and at times it shines - but those times are few and far between, and as a whole The Revenant simply fails to be worth it.

Joy

It's time for another throwback month! Two reviews of films that came out at least one year ago. (Yes, I have not had time to go to the cinema this month)

Joy is not a good film. In fact, for the vast majority of its running time Joy is a consistently bad film, a somewhat decent story ruined by a director who clearly has no idea how to tell it. Narrated by the titular character's Grandmother (a decision made after the film had been shot, and it really shows), Joy is very loosely based on the story of Joy Mangano, the woman who invented the Miracle Mop, and follows her as she comes up with the basic idea for the mop before creating a prototype and trying to sell it.

When I say that director David O. Russell has no idea how to tell this story, I mean it. From the films opening moments it is clear that he is out of his depth, a montage of sorts showing parts of Joy's life completely failing to make any kind of an impact thanks to the rushed way in which it is presented, sudden music cues and tonal shifts making it impossible to figure out what the film wants you to feel, never mind actually feel it. Even after that, the whole first act and much of the second is just a series of "and then..." scenes, events simply happening one after another rather than leading into each other, creating a film that fails to actually tell a coherent story for much of its running time. I'm not sure if it is fair to say that David O. Russell is a bad director (the consistent critical acclaim he has seen up until now is a fairly strong argument that he isn't), but his blatant inability to make a good film out of Joy should certainly be raising some eyebrows, especially given the elementary mistakes on display.

In many ways, Joy feels like the first draft of a script that was accidentally made into a feature-length movie. Littered with problems that should have been ironed out before filming started. Rather than trying to make the main character likeable, Joy instead aims to make everyone else so easy to hate that you end up rooting for Joy by default. Not helped by a lead actress that annoys every fibre of my being. I've said before that I've never been overly impressed with Jennifer Lawrence as an actress, the main reason being my inability to see her as anyone other than Jennifer Lawrence.

Too egotistical to play as a straight biopic but too bland and mindless to be anything else, Joy is ultimately little more than a gigantic misfire, a messy, badly directed film that wastes the few good scenes it contains.

Kingsman: The Golden Circle

It is without question that the first film, Kingsman: The Secret Service, can be called one of the biggest surprises of the last few years. So, it’s also no surprise that the sequel was met with immense expectations. By bringing back the visionary director, the fun cast, and exhilarating action, Kingsman: The Golden Circle looked to be a worthy continuation of the world the original set up, but did it succeed? Spoiler alert... No, it did not.

Following an attack from a powerful drug cartel that devastates the Kingsman organisation, Kingsman: The Golden Circle follows Eggsy and Merlin as they travel to America in order to team-up with their American counterparts, the Statesman. It turns out that the Statesman have been looking after a somehow still alive Harry Hart since he was shot in the previous film, but the retrograde amnesia he's suffering from means he remembers nothing from his life as a Kingsman. Around the same time, the leader of the aforementioned drug cartel, the Americana-obsessed Poppy Adams, announces to the world that she's been poisoning her product, and won't release the antidote to her hundreds of millions of users around the world until the President of the USA ends the War on Drugs once and for all.

There's a lot going on, and that's just one of the many problems that Kingsman: The Golden Circle suffers from. Matthew Vaughn has admitted in interviews that if he'd known Kingsman was going to become a franchise then he wouldn't have killed off Harry Hart in the first film, but undoing that decision ends up costing a lot more than it's actually worth. We spend a lot of time jumping through hoops in order to explain and attempt to add some dramatic weight to Harry's return, but when all is said and done his character has no purpose in the film beyond merely establishing that he's still alive and available for future movies. 

As far as the American counterparts are concerned, their roles feel rather wasted. Those that received so much attention during Kingsman: The Golden Circle's marketing campaigns are ultimately little more than extended cameos. Channing Tatum may have been a focal point in trailers and posters, but he, much like Halle Berry and Jeff Bridges, has no purpose in the film - Elton John has more screen time than most of the Statesman crew combined, as well as being far more vital to the story. And maybe that would have been forgivable if the plot was more interesting. Unlike Kingsman: The Secret Service, which slowly doles out information about Richmond Valentine's plan to the audience as the Kingsman investigate (which in effect positions much of that film as a mystery), we're told the full extent and intent of Poppy Adams' plan early on in the film, and spend the rest of the time waiting for Eggsy and Merlin to catch up as they get distracted by the Statesman and the return of Harry. It's a pretty fundamental mishandling of an otherwise perfectly acceptable, albeit uninspired, plot that robs it of any urgency or intrigue it might have had, meaning that by the time the finale actually rolls around it all feels totally perfunctory. 

These plot problems are only made all the more damaging by the simple fact that the film-making of Kingsman: The Golden Circle isn't a patch on that of Kingsman: The Secret Service. Vaughn's approach made everything feel artificial and weightless, both physically and dramatically. There are a few action scenes here that could and should have been spectacular, but in attempting to top the now infamous church scene from the first film, Kingsman: The Golden Circle can't help but come across as trying far too hard. This is particularly noticeable during the film's opening and closing action sequences - they're at times virtually incomprehensible thanks to the swooping and diving from the camera, rapidly cutting from extreme close-up to extreme close-up in a way that ends up feeling far more reminiscent of a sequence of live-action comic book panels than it does a well shot and edited action scene.

But by far the biggest problem with Kingsman: The Golden Circle is that it lacks the kind of spirit, heart and creative drive that the first film had in droves. It's easy to forget that "fun spy flick" was only one part of what made Kingsman: The Secret Service so enjoyable - Eggsy's journey through the British class system and his subsequent rejection of the upper class was the real story of the film, working in tandem with Vaughn's own commentary on the ruling elite to create a surprisingly smart and subversive piece of satire.

Ultimately, Kingsman: The Golden Circle is a film that simply lacks any real reason to exist from a creative or artistic perspective, and is instead content to be nothing more than a substandard spy movie. Kingsman: The Secret Service deserves a far better sequel than this.

It

Here we go, the most anticipated horror reboot since the Evil Dead in 2013... at least according to me. As a self confessed horror, thriller, gore, suspense super-fan, the 2017 remake of Stephen King's infamous It, filled me with excitement from the very first casting announcement through to the trailer and up to now as I type after having left the cinema in the dark nearly an hour ago.

Based on the 1986 novel, and thankfully not on the 1990 TV movie, the 2017 reboot is directed by Andy Muschietti with a screenplay from Chase Palmer, Cary Fukunaga and Gary Dauberman. Muschietti also directed the 2013 hit Mama, which was not particularly thought provoking but did it's job with jump scares and creepy children. It follows seven young outcasts who face their worst nightmare in the shape of an ancient, shape-shifting evil that emerges from the sewer every 27 years to prey on the town's children. Banding together over the course of one horrifying summer, the friends overcome their own personal fears to battle the murderous, bloodthirsty clown known as Pennywise.

It is almost as much a coming-of-age film as it is a horror thanks to the way that fears of the self-described "Losers' Club" often represent a more general fear of growing up, and the characters we follow throughout - particularly Bill, Bev, Eddie and Richie - are believable, authentic ones whose interactions with one another ring true. They're so well-developed and enjoyable to spend time around that one has to wonder if It would have still been a decent, entertaining movie even if the horror aspects hadn't have worked - I know for sure that my interest in the second part of this story comes more from seeing how these characters will have grown and changed over the best part of three decades than it does in seeing them fight Pennywise the Dancing Clown for a second time.

Which itself is a credit to It's young main cast, all of whom give great performances throughout - a good thing too, considering how easily the film would have fallen apart if even one of their performances hadn't been up to scratch. Obviously, Stranger Things' Finn Wolfhard is excellent as the mouthy Richie, but surprisingly he doesn't overshadow the rest of the cast - with the sole exception of Chosen Jacobs (who unfortunately simply doesn't get enough screen-time to leave much of an impression as Mike Hanlon) the entire "Losers' Club" have their time in the spotlight. Particularly brilliant are Sophia Lillis as Bev, Jack Dylan Grazer as Eddie and Jackson Robert Scott as Georgie - Lillis really helps sell a number of scenes that could have come across as clichéd with a weaker actress in the role.

But that's not to say that It stumbles when it comes to the horror - quite the contrary, in fact. For large stretches of it's running time It operates more as a montage of brilliant little set-pieces than it does a traditional narrative. Between director Andy Muschietti's firm grasp of tone throughout, Chung-hoon Chung's gorgeous cinematography and a brilliantly unrestrained performance from Bill Skarsgård as Pennywise, It manages to achieve the effect it is going for, whether that be a subtly creepy moment in a library, outright terror in a darkened garage and everything in between. There are a lot of elements in It that could have wound up feeling outdated or even cheesy in 2017 (it's about a child-eating clown who lives in a haunted house, after all), but from literally the opening scene It is performing a careful balancing act that ensures that's never the case.

There are minor nitpicks to made but they do little to hurt It in the grand scheme of things thanks to how enjoyable it is when it's firing on all cylinders. All in all, It ends up being the film that I imagine it was always meant to be - an enormously entertaining and effective horror with slightly more going on under the surface than most, and one I hope to revisit sooner rather than later.

Moana

I have seen Moana 10 times. That means I have watched this film once a month since it was first released in the UK last December. I regret nothing. With that said, I have finally compiled my thoughts and feelings into one small-ish post. 

Moana can't have been an easy film to make. Three years on and it has become all the more clear the kind of impact that Frozen really had - despite being hideously awful... sorry not sorry. Anything attempting to get away with a "one true love's kiss" is going to seem trite and old-fashioned after Frozen went about deconstructing many of the tropes most closely associated with these kind of films, and that puts Moana in a very difficult position. How does a princess movie follow the film that killed the princess movie?

Moana's answer to that question is a simple but effective one - move with the times. The cliches so expertly refuted by Frozen are instead ignored entirely by Moana, making it feel like just as much of an evolution of the princess movie as Frozen does, albeit in a quieter, less obvious way. Our main character is a princess in status only, and there isn't a romantic subplot or a damsel in distress to be found within throwing distance of the film - in fact, she may well be the single most capable female heroine Disney have ever created, a natural leader right from the start of the movie played perfectly by young Auli'i Cravalho.

In a lot of ways Moana feels like a return to form for Walt Disney Animation Studios, really managing to recapture the magic of the Disney Renaissance era for the first time. By my reckoning, this is their first film to really explore another culture since Mulan, and Moana makes the most of it. The legends and myths used by Moana feel authentic, and the plot - which sees Moana sailing across the sea in order to deliver demigod Māui to the goddess Te Fiti - is made all the more engaging, all the richer for it. It feels as if there is an expansive history informing everything that happens in the film, helping flesh out this world beyond what we see of it.

Not that what we do see of it is underwhelming - Moana is gorgeous, probably one of the best looking films of 2016 if not 2017 too. There are subtleties to the facial expressions and movements of the characters that make them feel more real than ever, and the vivid colours and inventive visuals on display set the film apart from predecessors, especially when combined with the themes that Moana is playing with and the spiritual nature of the story being told. Whether it be in the wonderful mix of animation styles that accompanies the song You're Welcome or the spectacularly imposing figure of antagonist Te Kā, Moana is a treat for the eyes throughout.

Realistically, Moana almost certainly won't be as popular as Frozen - I simply can't see it registering with that film's primary audience in the same way - but there is no doubt in my mind that it deserves to be. In successfully providing all the heart, energy and charm that you'd expect from a traditional Disney film without bringing nearly 80 years of baggage along for the ride, directors John Musker and Ron Clements have created one of the most purely enjoyable movies of the year, one that really feels like something special even while you're watching it - and one that deserves to be seen several times by as many people as possible.

Dunkirk

Christopher Nolan is often accused of being an emotionless director, and while it's a criticism I've only ever half agreed with in the past, Dunkirk certainly doesn't provide much of a counter-argument. It's a movie he's been wanting to make for the last 25 years, one he deliberately put on the back-burner until he felt that he had enough experience directing blockbusters to do it justice.

Dunkirk is finely tuned and impeccably crafted, but there's simply not much more to it than that. By weaving through three overlapping time-frames that each follow a different part of the evacuation - land, sea and air - Nolan is able to ensure that the pace never dips for even a moment while also giving Dunkirk the ability to explore three very different types of action, and it is this variation that allows the film to remain spectacular throughout. It is, in effect, a roller-coaster, and as such its entertainment value comes far more from the up and downs along the way than than it does actually reaching its destination.

And from that perspective Dunkirk is difficult to fault, keeping its audience on the edge of their seats from its opening scene to its final minutes thanks to Nolan's sheer ability behind the camera. Interestingly for a war film, we only ever catch a mere glimpse of the enemy soldiers, a decision that only heightens the tension - danger could come from any direction at any time, keeping the characters we follow on the back foot throughout as they merely try to survive impossible odds rather than achieve any grand victory. Between excellent staging, a preference for practical effects and some truly brilliant sound design, Nolan ensures that we're right alongside these soldiers as they find themselves trapped on sinking ships or unable to hide from the enemy places screaming overhead, and the result is deeply engaging, at least in the moment. But to what end? All this craft is ultimately in service of a film that feels surprisingly shallow and almost entirely uninterested in the events themselves, to the point where one has to wonder why Nolan even wanted to make Dunkirk. For all the effort that went into making it as historically accurate as possible, Dunkirk could be set on another planet without altering the thrust of the story or its function thanks to Nolan's unwillingness to really have a viewpoint or opinion.

It's this distancing effect that robs Dunkirk of much of the long-term impact it could have had, and while it might not be as big a deal in other circumstances, Dunkirk's lack of characters worth caring about only makes the aforementioned lack of perspective and purpose all the more noticeable. With the sole exception of Mark Rylance's Mr Dawson, the people we follow throughout Dunkirk are less definable characters and more avatars for us to experience the evacuation through - I'd have a hard time assigning any of them with a personality trait or characteristic, never mind remembering their names. And it's not that the performances are lacking - everyone from lead actor Fionn Whitehead to Tom Hardy to Harry Styles are giving it their all - it's simply that there is very little on the page for them to work with.

Ultimately, Dunkirk shows us a Christopher Nolan who rather than testing himself as a director and story-teller has chosen to play to his strengths and all but entirely ignore his weaknesses, and while it still ends up being quite the feat of film-making from a technical perspective, it also means that it never risks being a genuinely great movie.

War for the Planet of the Apes

I can't help but feel that in ten years time, we're going to look back at the Planet of the Apes prequel/reboot trilogy and be amazed. Both Rupert Wyatt's Rise of the Planet of the Apes and Matt Reeves' Dawn of the Planet of the Apes offer smart, complex, emotionally engaging science fiction for adults on a blockbuster budget - frankly, it's a minor miracle that they even exist in a time when studios seem more risk averse than ever, never mind that they've somehow avoided the kind of interference that has hindered so many movies of late. It's that which has marked this franchise out as something truly different since the beginning, and War for the Planet of the Apes takes that to the next level by delivering not just one of the best, most satisfying conclusions to a trilogy I've ever seen, but also a genuinely brilliant and artistically uninhibited piece of cinema that is quite unlike any other big budget film you're likely to see this year.

Set a couple of years after the events of Dawn of the Planet of the Apes (which I reviewed in 2014), War for the Planet of the Apes sees Caesar and his clan at war with a military faction that are obsessively hunting them. After a peace offering from Caesar to the Colonel leading the faction backfires, Caesar orders his clan out of the woods and across a desert in order to ensure their safety - but motivated by revenge, he chooses to enter the heart of darkness in order to find and kill the Colonel himself. Whether it be the Apocalypse Now inspired plot or a sequence evocative of The Great Escape, War for the Planet of the Apes quite clearly has the blood of a great many classic films flowing through its veins. Ultimately, it ends up most closely resembling a biblical or historical epic - if Rise of the Planet of the Apes showed us Caesar the revolutionary and Dawn of the Planet of the Apes showed us Caesar the leader, then War for the Planet of the Apes shows us Caesar the savior, a conflicted, almost mythical figure whose external struggles are matched only by war waging within him. He's tested both physically and mentally throughout the film, wrestling with his own humanity as he confronts someone who has almost entirely lost his own.

It's a superbly directed film, one that doesn't put a foot wrong at any point and even manages to avoid some of the problems that slightly held back its predecessors - unlike Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, War for the Planet of the Apes doesn't feel the need to split its focus between the apes and the humans, instead choosing to place its focus firmly on the apes and staying there throughout. Naturally then, this final film lives or dies on our ability to truly believe in these talking apes, but as with the previous two movies the excellent performances given across the board, the stunning CGI work supporting them and the brilliant writing throughout ensures that our suspension of disbelief is never tested. Andy Serkis is yet again perfect as Caesar, imbuing this complex and at times contradictory character with all the humanity and emotion required, but he's far from the only performance worth talking about - franchise newcomer Steve Zahn finds himself in the difficult position of having to sell us on a tragic character who mostly exists for comic relief without sucking the tension or the intelligence out of the film, but he pitches his performance at the perfect level to do exactly that.

20th Century Fox have already confirmed that they intend to keep this franchise going, but it isn't needed - what we have here is quite literally a perfect conclusion to a stellar trilogy, and further entries only run the risk of watering that down. If you've seen the previous films in the franchise, seeing War for the Planet of the Apes should be an easy decision - if not, now is the perfect time to catch up before going to see what will almost certainly end up being one of the finest pieces of blockbuster cinema this decade.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2

After just under a decade of consistently producing some of the best blockbuster entertainment each year, you can be pretty sure that you're in for a good time if you go to see a movie with the Marvel Studios title card in front of it, and Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 offers no exception to that. Fans of the first film are going to find a lot to enjoy here, and while this review may come across as very critical at times, it's important to take that alongside the knowledge that despite being noticeably more flawed than its predecessor, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 is still an entertaining, engaging film in its own right, and one that I personally enjoyed very much.

The film is tasked with juggling two mostly unrelated stories for much of its running time, and it's here that the film suffers at least somewhat thanks to the absence of an overarching plot. There are times when Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 feels almost directionless, lacking any sense of urgency or real purpose beyond an exploration of its characters, and that puts it in stark contrast with its tightly plotted predecessor in a way that isn't all that complementary. In fact, there are a lot of comparisons that can be made between Guardians of the Galaxy and Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 that don't do the latter any favours. I can understand why director James Gunn attempted to hem so close to the style and tone of the first film given the impact it had on pop-culture at large, but ultimately the sequel is at its weakest when it's trying to live up to the expectations set by its predecessor, whether that be in its soundtrack or in its attempts to recreate the sense of energy and originality that made Guardians of the Galaxy stand out as much as it did.

That being said, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2's significantly more personal story and its willingness to really explore these characters and their relationships with one another is truly brilliant. The recurring motif of family and parenthood is the driving force behind Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, providing a thematic link between the main story of Peter's father and the film's many side-stories, such as the continued sibling rivalry between Gamora and Nebula, the existential unhappiness that Rocket and Ego share about being the only one of their kind, and the Guardians' attempt to give Groot the safe and healthy upbringing that they all lacked. The film's final scene can only be described as genuinely touching, easily ranking as one of the most emotional and perfectly judged moments in the Marvel Cinematic Universe to date, and it only works because of how well Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 develops its characters throughout the film.

It should go without saying that Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 is colourful and vibrant and imaginative and funny in all the ways that you might have expected. Even ignoring the aforementioned brilliance of the film's character work, it's great to have an excuse to spend more time with these characters thanks to Gunn's superb writing, and the new additions of Mantis (a socially-stunted alien empath who steals a lot of the scenes she's in) and Baby Groot.

Whether or not the trade off between plot and character ends up being worth it is really going to be dependent on you, but as far as I'm concerned it was a sacrifice worth making for the highs that Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 contains. On the whole it's undeniably a more uneven, less refined movie than its predecessor, but those flaws are ultimately a small price to pay for the personal and significantly more emotionally engaging story. No, it probably won't be as widely loved as the first film was - but that doesn't mean that it has nothing to offer, and I'm sure that fans of the first film will still find a lot to love in a sequel that while imperfect, could never be accused of playing it safe.

Wonder Woman

There's a lot riding on Wonder Woman, the latest DC superhero film from Warner Bros, and not just because it's the first female led, female directed superhero film of the modern era. The previous three films in the DC Extended Universe have all underwhelmed to various degrees, either critically, financially, or both - all eyes are on Wonder Woman to prove that there is value to be found in this franchise yet, and while obviously imperfect at times, I'm pleased to say that it manages to do just that.

Told as an extended flashback framed around the photograph she was trying to reclaim in Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice, Wonder Woman sees Diana Prince, Gal Gadot, getting involved in the First World War after learning of its existence when American spy/pilot Steve Trevor, Chris Pine, crashes his plane into the sea surrounding her home, the island of Themyscira. Concluding that only Ares, the God of War, could be behind this madness, Diana travels to London and later the Front Line with Steve to kill Ares and put an end to the war once and for all.

It's a fairly simple story that borrows more than just a little from Captain America: The First Avenger, but by no means is that intended to be a criticism of Wonder Woman. By taking a step back and choosing to tell a lean, character-focused origin story, the film has plenty of time to build Diana as a character and endear us to her, and from that perspective it's hard to fault. Diana is everything that previous DC protagonists haven't been - likeable, for a start, but also truly heroic, a genuinely good person not just deep down but outwardly too. Her compassion for others and deeply held belief that humanity is worth fighting for is the driving force not just of the character but the film as a whole - what we have in Diana Prince is DC's version of Captain America, and as with Chris Evans, it's almost as if Gal Gadot was born to play her. Regardless of the reservations some may have had about her casting, she's brilliant in the role, and I really can't imagine anyone else playing her.

It's the film's character-focused middle section where Wonder Woman is at it's strongest. It would be easy to look at the scenes set in London as nothing more than "fish-out-of-water" comedy, but Diana's unwillingness to adhere to the social norms of the time speaks volumes about her priorities, as well as being very funny. Likewise, the stunning, instantly iconic action sequence that sees Diana storming No Man's Land may be a very good action scene, but it's also showing us just how much she's willing to do for those in need, speaking to that innate sense of compassion she's imbued with. All the best aspects of Wonder Woman are rooted in showing us who Diana is, what she believes in and what she stands for, lending the film a sense of focus and cohesion that it may have otherwise lacked.

Which is why Wonder Woman's finale is ultimately such a major disappointment. Not only is it willing to embrace all the worst tendencies of modern superhero films - it's yet another incoherent, incomprehensible CGI punch fest between two virtually invulnerable beings focused only on appealing to what a 14 year old might think of as "cool" - it also contains a number of really strange storytelling choices that completely undermine Diana's character arc while removing any shades of grey or complexities that the film could have contained, problems only compounded by Ares being such a weak, boring antagonist when he finally does show up.

While there are other criticisms to be made of Wonder Woman - the consistently ropey CGI, the odd tonal misstep - it's really just the finale that holds it back from being the genuinely great, rather than just very good, piece of blockbuster entertainment that it could have been. Whether or not Warner Bros will be able to follow this up with something worthwhile remains to be seen - and I'm skeptical to say the least - but for now, Wonder Woman is certainly a pretty big step in the right direction.

Hacksaw Ridge

Nominated for six Academy Awards including Best Picture and Best Director, Hacksaw Ridge isn't just a declaration that Mel Gibson is back in Hollywood's good books. It may be his first directorial effort in a decade, but it's clear that the time he's been away hasn't changed him - not only is Hacksaw Ridge a well-made film, but his choice to revisit themes that he's more than familiar with also serves as a notice that he's still very much Mel Gibson, with all that entails.

Set predominantly during the Second World War, Hacksaw Ridge tells the true story of Private Desmond Doss, a combat medic who refused to kill or even hold a gun due to his beliefs as a Seventh-day Adventist. Despite that, he still managed to save the lives of 75 men during the Battle of Okinawa, becoming the first conscientious objector (or conscientious cooperator, as Doss puts it) to receive the Medal of Honor. It's a film of three distinct sections, one showing us Desmond's life before the war, one showing us the hardships he went through thanks to his status as a conscientious objector during training, and one showing us what Desmond did to earn the Medal of Honor - and in truth it's easy to see which parts of the film that director Mel Gibson was actually interested in. The first section, which introduces us to Desmond, his family and his future wife, is so mundane and it's only when Desmond makes his way to Fort Jackson for training that Hacksaw Ridge starts to come to life, coinciding neatly with when the actual story starts in earnest.

Gibson's direction is assured and capable throughout, particularly during the films battle scenes - the sequence that sees Desmond and the rest of his company make their way onto the smoke-filled battlefield for the first time is haunting, and Gibson is able to wring every drop of tension out of the build-up to when the shooting starts. When it does, Hacksaw Ridge isn't afraid of showing us the brutality of war - graphic, bloody shots of dismembered limbs, corpses and disturbing injuries litter these battle scenes, standing in stark contrast to the gentleness of the preceding sections and making them more effective, more evocative in the process. One has to wonder why Gibson hasn't directed a horror film yet - there is no doubt in my mind that his ability to build tension and his cinematic blood-lust would make him a natural fit for the genre.

On top of that, Andrew Garfield surprises by giving a really good performance as Desmond Doss, portraying the character's innate sense of goodness in a way that although cheesy somehow works in the context of the film, and Hugo Weaving imbues Desmond's PTSD-ridden father with all the gravitas, anger and vulnerability he can muster, creating a fairly compelling character out of one that could easily have been paper thin in the hands of someone else. However, Hacksaw Ridge has no interest in exploring the contradictions of Desmond Doss, a man so averse to violence that he can't even hold a gun but is more than willing to take an active part in the war, nor does it have any interest in examining the complicated relationship between faith, patriotism and war.

With a disgusting view of the Japanese, here portrayed more as a horde of inhumane, murderous monsters than actual people, Hacksaw Ridge ends up feeling almost like propaganda in comparison to other modern war films, a flaw that ultimately ends up holding it back from really earning that Best Picture nomination. The fact that Hacksaw Ridge is an undeniably well-made movie will be enough for some - but its failings on a deeper level stop it from being the truly great film that I believe it could have been.

John Wick Chapter Two

I don't think it's unfair to say that American action films tend to suck...

These days they're far too reliant on shaky-cam in order to mask the simple fact that their stars don't have the training required to make combat look good on screen, and there are very few films in recent years that have managed to overcome that in order to deliver a truly good fight scene. John Wick was one of the few, a film dedicated to practical action and real stunt work in a way that made it stand out amongst the crowd - and now John Wick Chapter 2 has done it again, full of the stylish action that made the first film such a breath of fresh air while also further exploring the heightened, pulpy world that these characters inhabit. And while we are revealing things, I only watched these films because my boyfriend is a huge fan of the action sequences. He brought to my attention how many films do not include shots of characters reloading their guns and frankly, it's changed my expectation of realism within the action genre. Well done John Wick for doing it right. Anyway, back to chapter two...

We follow legendary hitman John Wick as he is once again dragged out of retirement, this time by Santino D'Antonio, an Italian mob boss to whom he swore a blood oath many years ago. The rules of the world John once inhabited means that refusal to honour this blood oath will cost him his life, forcing him to travel to Rome in order to carry out a hit that he doesn't want to.

Even more so than its predecessor, the story told by John Wick Chapter 2 feels like a formality, little more than an excuse for action. Part of this is a problem that all sequels see - returning to an established world is rarely as interesting as building it in the first place - but it has to be said that John's mission here lacks the urgency or intimacy of his quest for vengeance in the first film, and this film's inability to create new side characters as interesting as the ones in John Wick is among its biggest failings. There are attempts, of course - Ruby Rose has a lot of screen presence as a mute bodyguard, and it's great to see John run into a rival assassin as skilled and driven as he in the form of Common's Cassian - but neither of these characters manage to leave the same kind of impression that Marcus or Miss Perkins did in John Wick. This problem extends to the main antagonist of the piece too - Santino D'Antonio is frustratingly two-dimensional in comparison to Iosef and Viggo Tarasov, the Russian mobsters of the first film.

And that's a real shame, especially when the rest of John Wick Chapter 2 is either as good as or maybe even better than its predecessor. My only real complaints about the first film were that John was so good at what he does that he rarely felt in danger and that we didn't have quite enough time to explore the vibrant, imaginative world that the film was building - John Wick Chapter 2 addresses both of those points wonderfully, putting John on the defensive for the first time in the middle of the film while also further fleshing out this world and its customs. It's this middle section that turns John Wick Chapter 2 from merely a good sequel into something more. We get a much greater sense of the extent of this world, and the action sequences here take on a brutality and physicality, a sense of desperation that the first film lacked. Seeing John shoot a lot of people is great, of course, but seeing John forced to improvise when he's on the back foot is something else entirely.

It should go without saying that John Wick Chapter 2 is just as well-shot and expertly choreographed as John Wick was, even if it doesn't quite manage to reach the heights of the first film's nightclub sequence. Keanu Reeves reportedly underwent four full months of training in stunt driving, shooting and various martial arts for this film, and it shows - John Wick Chapter 2 owes much of its success to the amount of faith it is able to place in its star, and Reeves doesn't disappoint.

John Wick

Action films are all about momentum. All the best action films, from classics like Die Hard to more modern films like Dredd rely on a strong sense of direction and a plot created by cause and effect in order to ensure that the audience is as wrapped up in the film as the characters are. There's a reason why action films set over a short period of time always seem to work best – it's because the film never loses that momentum. John Wick is a film that understands that. We follow ex-hitman John Wick as he fights his way through various members of the underground world that he used to inhabit in order to kill a man who stole his car and killed his dog, the son of his previous employer.

As far as the plot goes, that's pretty much it. John Wick is a revenge film first and foremost, but in it's defence, a smart one – our main character isn't taking vengeance on the boy for the loss of his dog and car so much as he is lashing out at the world after the loss of his wife, a temper tantrum caused by his inability to grieve with a body count of dozens. This focus on character is one of the many small things that make John Wick more than just another action film – it has some real substance just below the surface.

Additionally, the simple plot allows John Wick to retain the aforementioned sense of momentum that all great action movies need. From the moment John picks up his gun, he's thrown straight into some incredibly well choreographed and filmed action scenes that are never simply there to break up the story – instead, the action scenes are the story, and John Wick flows in and out of them as easily as our main character does.

It's probably worth noting just how good John Wick looks. You could be forgiven for thinking that you are watching a particularly meticulously shot arthouse film at times – it's potentially one of the best looking action films I've seen, lights and colours popping out of the screen and contrasting heavily with the darkness surrounding them. This is best exemplified by the nightclub action scene, potentially the highlight of film.

Keanu Reeves is great in the lead role, the actors history as an action star before falling out of the limelight syncing really well with the back story of John, a form of shorthand for characterisation that feels as if it is close to breaking the fourth wall. For a film of this size, the casting is excellent, with recognisable names such as Willem Dafoe, Ian McShane and Adrianne Palicki all making their mark on the film as unique and interesting characters.

The main problem with John Wick is that our central character is almost too good. We know from the start that John was the best at what he did when he still worked as a hitman (part of the charm of the first act is seeing the various characters react to the news that they've got a pissed off John Wick on the way), but the result of this is that John is never in any real danger thanks to the films unwillingness to allow him to come across anyone that could be considered a real threat, and because of that the stakes never seem high enough. There is no sense of escalation, nothing for our hero to really have to overcome, and that impacts John Wick in a way that I don't think could have been predicted.

It's a minor issue, but one that ultimately stops John Wick from being as good as it could have been, which is a real shame because it's pretty fantastic in every other way. The highlight of the film for me was the amount of imagination that went into the criminal underworld – there's honour amongst thieves in John Wick, a culture for criminals that has resulted in an exclusive hotel called the Continental just for the underworld being set up, one with it's own strict rules and a secret currency. It's a great exercise in world building, and another small detail that again sets John Wick apart from the rest.

I wish John Wick had been just 10 or 15 minutes longer in order to further explore this very rich world that it has created. I wanted to see more of Ms Perkins and Marcus and the Continental, but the film doesn't quite have the time to really get it's teeth stuck into the fantastic little world that it takes place in. Regardless, it's a must see for anyone who loves action films, a visually stunning and well-paced trip through a wonderful world that will no doubt achieve cult classic status before long.

Get Out

It may seem a little counter-intuitive, but the best horror films aren't necessarily the scariest. Horror as a genre works best when it's married to the fears of its audience in a much broader sense, and for that reason the best horror films tend to be those tuned into the zeitgeist of the time, those willing to be about something in a way that a lot of modern horror rarely is. Whether it be the anti-consumerism of Dawn of the Dead, the red scare of Invasion of the Body Snatchers or the technophobia of Black Mirror, social commentary and horror have always made for a great pairing - it's little surprise then that Get Out is no exception, commenting on race and culture in modern America and establishing itself as an instant classic in the process.

We follow Chris Washington, Daniel Kaluuya, as he and his girlfriend, Rose Armitage, Allison Williams, travel to her family home for the weekend in order for him to meet her parents for the first time. Rose has never had a black boyfriend before, and the fact that she hasn't yet told her parents about Chris being black has him concerned about their reaction. Fortunately for him, Rose's parents are liberal and tolerant to a fault, but that doesn't stop Chris from feeling uncomfortable and out of place - a feeling that only grows when he starts to notice the strange behaviour of the Armitage's black servants, and the eagerness of Rose's mother to place him under hypnosis and cure his smoking addiction.

It's the first film from writer/director Jordan Peele, but you wouldn't know that from watching it. Get Out has to be one of the most assured, capable directorial debuts we've seen in some time, incredibly well-crafted both technically and textually in a way that you rarely see from first time directors. It's clear that Peele had a lot that he wanted to say with Get Out, and the result is a film that feels as if it sprung fully-formed from his brain onto the screen - it's as singular a vision as you are likely to see, a work that feels so complete and cohesive that it's hard to imagine it ever existing in any other state.

It would be easy to put that down to how well-written it is - there isn't an ounce of fat to be found here, every scene serving a distinct, important purpose and adding to the film overall - but Peele's talent behind the camera can't be ignored either. His control of tone is quite frankly masterful, allowing him to transition from pure comedy to unbearable tension in the time it takes to hang up a phone, and the social awkwardness between Chris and Rose's parents is palpable to the point of being actively uncomfortable to watch. Even if Get Out were just another horror film, the skill with which it's made would establish Jordan Peele as a film-maker very much worth keeping an eye on.

But it's not just another horror film, and that aforementioned social commentary is what makes Get Out something truly special. It's an indictment of race as a fashion accessory, an examination of how Western society fetishises and appropriates black culture for its own purposes, a mocking look at those who are more interested in appearing progressive than they are actually being progressive. Add to all that the truly brilliant performances given by the entire cast and the wicked sense of subversion present throughout, and Get Out is quite simply a must-see film, melding effective horror with a great sense of humour to create something that's sure to leave a lasting impression. 

I referred to Get Out as an instant classic earlier on in this review, a tired phrase that's thrown around a little too often - but Get Out earns that level of acclaim, and I can't wait to see what Jordan Peele does next.

Beauty & The Beast

It's no secret that there aren't a whole lot of new ideas left in Hollywood anymore. The death of the mid major movie (your $35 million budget film with respectable but not outrageous aspirations) has led to a studio-dominated box office filled with sequels, franchises, reboots and remakes. And none exemplifies this more than Disney, the amoeba of the film world that has systematically subsumed the likes of Marvel and Star Wars to become the big name in blockbuster filmmaking. And while the animated division of Disney continues to flirt with originality (Moana), the live action side of things has taken to cannibalize itself through live action remakes of many of these beloved animated classics. These films have seen success, from Alice in Wonderland, Cinderella and Maleficent, and Disney clearly seems to be enjoying themselves putting more and more of these remakes in the pipeline. But whereas its initial forays into the trend were all classics from 50 or more years ago, 2017 marks their first attempt to update a classic film much of its audience would have had the chance to see in the theater: 1991’s Beauty and the Beast.

Choosing to resurrect the first ever animated film to be nominated for Best Picture at the Academy Awards is a tall task, and Disney enlisted Bill Condon to shepherd the project to the screen. Condon has had a fascinating roller coaster of a career, with ups (Dreamgirls) and downs (the final two Twilight movies). But he does have a pretty solid piece of source material to draw from. Writers Stephen Chbosky and Evan Spiliotopoulos took the tale and expanded it but the skeleton remains the same. It’s still about Belle, Emma Watson, and she’s still a bookish outcast in her tiny little village, still dodging the romantic advances of muscle-with-legs Gaston, Luke Evans. She comes into contact with The Beast, heavily CGI'd Dan Stevens, after the disappearance of her father, who accidentally stumbled upon his hidden castle in the woods. The Beast was cursed for being an unsympathetic in his younger princely days, with his servants turned into various household objects, and if the now hideous monster could feel true love before the wilting of a magic rose, he would be returned to his former self. With Belle in the castle, having chosen to replace her father as the Beast’s prisoner, his servants go to work to make them fall in love. See? Same old song and dance.

The easiest thing to notice about Beauty and the Beast 2.0 is its choreography. The opening replaces the original’s storybook retelling of the cursing of the prince with a look into one of his opulent parties, with endless patrons dancing through a giant ballroom, the camera swooping and turning, the edits coming fast and loose. It’s chaotic and it’s busy and it’s honestly often incomprehensible, an assault of the senses that threatens to tire you out before it has a chance to get going. The hope would be that the open is so aggressive as to contrast it with the sleepy simple life of Belle’s village, but that hope is soon dashed by Condon’s staging of Belle’s classic opening number, Belle, and the same chaos reigns. It makes for a rather exhausting and deadening first twenty minutes.

When things quiet down (which happens more rarely than you might assume) it settles into something a bit more palatable. Dan Stevens does an admirable job aping Robby Benson’s bellows and growls, while successfully mapping The Beast’s transition from hard-hearted brute to the sort of person Belle could fall in love with. The design of the servants is well-implemented, whether it’s Lumiere, Ewan McGregor, and his sashaying style, or the cowardly and cantankerous Cogsworth, Ian McKellen, their individual personalities shining through the computer generated objects. Perhaps surprisingly, Watson’s Belle isn’t particularly inspiring; she doesn’t quite seem to find the right balance in her characterization and comes off as a bit one note. Luke Evans has Gaston down pat, but Josh Gad’s LeFou seems to vary too much in his personality to get a real beat on him. The characters are about as uneven as the film is. The additions to the story, whether it’s the expansion of the enchantress who initially applied the curse or some additional backstory involving Belle’s mother, all fall flat, as do the film’s new songs. Some things work, but the aspects that don’t work seem to have more staying power, leading to a pretty disappointing experience.

There was a simplicity to the 1991 Beauty and the Beast that Condon simply fails to replicate.

King Kong: Skull Island

There’s no secret that Kong: Skull Island had nothing in common with the three previous versions (1933, 1976, 2005) other than the ape’s name and the location name. Everything else is completely different and somewhat fresh to us, probably not so much to a Japanese audience, as they made multiple films with Kong either as a protagonist or as an antagonist. But for Western audiences it’s a completely new take on a historical and beloved Hollywood character.

The journey begins in 1973 on the day the United States pulled out of Vietnam. Explorer Bill Randa, John Goodman, and his associate Houston Brooks, Corey Hawkins, convince the government to fund their expedition to an uncharted island in the Pacific. Needing help, they enlist Col. Preston Packard, Samuel L. Jackson, and the members of his military group as military escorts, anti-war photographer Mason Weaver, Brie Larson, and, the leading man, ex-British special forces tracker James Conrad, Tom Hiddleston. As soon as the team arrives, they discover that the land they believe they have founded is a world ruled by a gorilla the size of a building: Kong. 

As for the human characters (who, let’s face it, are just the supporting roles here), the cast is a decidedly mixed bag of ultimately weak personalities. The most forgettable performance comes from the man who was given top billing, Hiddleston, phoning it in as the typical straight man. He is heroic, clever, morally motivated and always right about everything. Essentially, he is the direct opposite of Jackson’s character, a proud, honorable military leader who has grown slightly unhinged since the end of the Vietnam War. As for Larson, while her Farrah Fawcett-haired character comes forth slightly underdeveloped, she gives her a strong, witty and courageous personality that comes in handy when she actively participates in the action sequences despite never having a gun. While I applaud the culturally diverse casting most of the characters feel unworthy to root for.

The exception is John C. Reilly as Hank Marlow, a World War II pilot whose plane went down in 1944 leaving him stranded on the titular island ever since. He completely steals the show by thankfully abandoning the “dehumanized, feral stranded victim” trope, giddily guiding the explorers through the island’s native culture and steering them away from the most dangerous areas and creatures. With his optimistic and thoroughly hilarious portrayal, Reilly is more than the film’s comic relief: he is its heart and soul.

Despite moments lacking in more of his own screen time, seeing the king of Skull Island in action is worth the wait. The beautifully shot fight scenes between Kong and creatures that Marlow calls “Skull Crawlers” feel like a child’s fantasies during an action figure crushing session at afternoon playtime brought to life. The film is fast paced, action packed and simply written yet it's real charm comes from director Jordan Vogt-Roberts and cinematographer Larry Fong, who seems to reach higher heights than other Hollywood action expert Zack Snyder. They manage to execute a cheesy, sub-par script with mostly forgettable performances into a surprisingly and thoroughly entertaining monster movie. With beautiful aesthetic, impressive action direction and an irresistible nostalgic tone, this island proves worth returning to.

Hidden Figures

While this is may seem like an insult to some, Hidden Figures is that perfect film you can take the whole family too. Usually the “family” demeanor means non-offensive/basic storytelling, here we have a movie that defies its simple premise and delivers one of the most well-rounded films of the year. Yes, you can take the whole family to this because it is a heartwarming tale showing some progress in America’s history; but make no mistake, you’ll want to take the whole family to see Hidden Figures so we can learn how to make progress in some areas society is still struggling with today.

Directed by Theodore Melfi, Hidden Figures tells the story of Katherine Johnson, Dorothy Vaughn, and Mary Jackson, three African-American women whose work helped NASA’s efforts in the Space Race of the 1960’s. The story bounces effectively between the three ladies and each of their struggles in the white male dominated world that was NASA. Dorothy, Octavia Spencer, faces push back when she is repeatedly denied career advancement despite her qualifications. Mary’s, Janelle Monae, skill set demands she be an engineer, but she cannot do so unless she is able to take classes at a 1960’s Virginian segregated school. Katherine, Taraji P. Henson, is our main focus, as she is given the opportunity with the most influence: calculating (more like inventing) the math that will allow an American to not only circle the earth, but re-enter the atmosphere safely. The screenplay by Melfi and Allison Schroeder does a great job taking the real life events and crafting them into a compelling two hour film. Each character not only has their career advancement driving the plot, but we also see how each of these ladies encountered segregation and how their math and engineering skills were just as part of the Civil Rights Movement as the protests were.

You might hope that a film set 50 years ago dealing with civil rights would easily be a thing of the past, but unfortunately that is not the case. Whether it be discussions about prejudice in our society, the struggles women face in the workplace, or even how bathrooms can cause social divisions, Hidden Figures feels timely in a way that was not expected. To be clear, Hidden Figures is definitely not a heavy film to experience. The PG-rated story doesn’t shy away from the civil rights aspects of the story but generally it chooses to focus on the hopeful progress rather than dwell on the harsher realities of the struggle.

Hidden Figures ends up being that perfect balance between inspiring, entertaining and educational.

Free in Deed

Free in Deed is certainly a tough film to watch. Exploring themes such as religion and special needs, writer, director and co-editor Jake Mahaffy does not shy away from controversy. In a raw foreword, recorded on skype for Glasgow Film Festival, he simply encourages viewers to disconnect from personal opinion and to embrace the ideal that the film does not reflect his own personal views. An opening statement that felt like he was making excuses for creating the film which I felt was unnecessary considering the film itself is unapologetic. Starring David Harewood, this film depicted the loss of hope, faith and life in way that has me distracted even hours later. 

The film documents the life of a young woman and her two children, one of whom has Autism. Based on actual events, she turns to her local church and it's resident healer for help with her son. The film explores the unfortunate trend within some religious communities of using exorcism and spiritual healing to cure individuals with special needs. The 'storefront church' trend that is sweeping American small towns promoting local bishops and 'healers' and the depiction of the dangerous and in the case of Free in Deed deadly consequences of using these practices on young and disabled children is central to the film. The continuing rise of disenfranchised masses who have turned to religion to both heal and revitalise their lives is worrying from an admittedly privileged point of view. But understanding that millions of people do believe that God is the answer to their problems and that devoted worship will result in physical manifestations of God's love in return is key to understanding some of the wider social issues that are taking hold of America today. In a world that is currently so lost, is it bizarre to look for a higher power to right our wrongs? This film is a brutal display of a popular belief system in central bible belt America and other countries.

A film without a glimpse of hope in any of it's characters lives, Free in Deed strikes a particularly heart breaking tone in it's depiction of Melva's young daughter. Not only does she witness the cruel exorcism sessions but she mimics them with her doll and sits angeliclly, unaware of the implications of what she sees. From a film making perspective the deliberate and unashamed guiding from the cinematography was especially interesting. It has some of the most obvious displays of forced attention I've seen on screen in a long time and was cleverly utilised to show focus on the power of belief. This was particular choice resulted in what felt like slow paced film that had been weighed down by its heavy subject matter. The use of quick cuts and slow motion to emphasise the slow passage of time and draw in audience attention only heightened the tense atmosphere created by the plot. 

Berlin Syndrome

Admittedly my favourite film from this year's Glasgow Film Festival, Berlin Syndrome is frightening, stressful and intriguing. It's the sort of film that Taken wishes it could be and that Room tried to portray the aftermath of. Director Cate Shortland has really outdone herself in creating a film and characters that oozes tension and discomfort. The plot follows Claire, an Australian tourist, as she finds herself being held captive by her one night stand, Andi. Teresa Palmer leads a cast of practically two. Her sunken eyes and greasy complexion is a far cry from her recent role in Hacksaw Ridge. I'd like to think the transition from love interest to lost hope was a conscious decision. She stars opposite Max Riemelt who is the epitome of disturbed and confused evil. This is the first film I've seen Riemelt in but he has appeared in an array of, mostly German, TV movies and films. 

Full of unanswered questions the film alludes to the mysteries behind kidnappings and abductions. The audience questions throughout about Andi and who he kept before. We are never told what triggered the escalation in behaviour or even what role does the lack of a mother play in Andi's condition. The film does not shy away from it's title's similarity to Stockholm Syndrome. Particularly topical these days with the reboot of Beauty and the Beast next month. After his father dies, Andi leaves Claire in the apartment alone with no power for multiple days, with the exact time scale not determinable. When he finally returns the two have a moment of mutual dependence on each other with Claire seemingly willing to be intimate for the first time since she discovered she was trapped. This scene is the moment of transition for Claire from fighting to flee to fighting to survive and unfortunately, surviving the scenario involves accepting the role she plays in his life.

The time scale, as hinted at above, is an underlying theme in the film. With most of the film playing out during an unknown time scale, with the exception of the clear Christmas and New Years Eve scenes seen later in the film. This is an interesting approach that was perhaps used to be a commentary on the time spans that abductees are kept and how they can often be unaware that months and even years have passed. With any good abduction story, the most compelling scenes are the attempted escapes and moments of possible rescue. Each scene gets within arms length of freedom before the story is pulled backwards as Claire is literally pulled back into the apartment by Andi. As a self confessed fan of all things horror, tension building and fear inducing, I'm embarrassed to admit that I've never felt physically sick from the tension in a film before. Berlin Syndrome did just that. I left Screen One of Glasgow's Film Theatre and was happy to walk home in the fresh air in the hopes my stomach would stop doing summersaults... and yes, that was a subtle reference to Cate Shortland's other fantastic drama Somersault from 2004.