Category: Film

Better Man, directed by Michael Gracey, is nothing short of a modern masterpiece. It’s a deep dive into the life of Robbie Williams, capturing the highs and lows of his career and personal struggles. Gracey masterfully blends humour, heartache, and raw honesty to deliver a film that sticks with you long after the credits roll.

While the inclusion of a CGI chimpanzee might sound bizarre, it’s a bold creative choice, brought to live via a combination of performances from Jonno Davies and Robbie Williams. What could be seen as a gimmick becomes a metaphor for Robbie’s inner demons—a brilliant touch that adds layers to the narrative. But the real heart of Better Man lies in its unsanitised exploration of Robbie’s battles: his turbulent relationship with Nicole Appleton, his struggles with addiction, and the crushing self-doubt of never feeling “good enough.”

These darker moments humanise Robbie in a way few biopics manage. You feel his pain, vulnerability, and desperate search for redemption and self-acceptance. Gracey’s direction, paired with a sharp, heartfelt screenplay, paints a multidimensional portrait of a man torn between the spotlight and his private torment. Robbie’s real eyes are used and he manages to conveys more emotion with a single glance than many experienced actors manage their entire careers.

The entire cast shine, but special mention has to go to Steve Pemberton. Who gives a career best performance as Robbie’s dad, Peter Williams/Conway. He’s a shoo-in for a BAFTA nomination.

The film’s technical achievements are equally stunning. Gracey, best known for The Greatest Showman, brings his trademark flair with dazzling choreography and clever camera work that fully utilises the stage. The fast-paced editing and breathtaking cinematography perfectly mirror Robbie’s chaotic life, drawing you into his meteoric rise and dramatic fall.

Better Man is more than a biopic; it’s a story of redemption, acceptance, and the human cost of fame. Whether you’re a die-hard Robbie fan or not, this is a must-see. Gracey and Williams have delivered one of the year’s most surprising and emotional films. You’ll want to see it on the big screen.

Better Man is released in the UK and Ireland on Boxing Day.

In Rupert Sanders’ 2024 adaptation of “The Crow,” the boundary between the realm of the living and the dead is depicted as perilously thin, a concept made evident from the film’s opening moments. Loosely based on James O’Barr’s iconic comic, the movie explores the concept of evil within a mundane and cruel world. However, the film struggles to find a coherent voice, resulting in a confusing mix of styles and tones that undermines its potential. Despite its efforts to blend darkness with messages of love and redemption, it ultimately fails to capture the spirit of the original work.

The screenplay by Zach Baylin, inspired by the famous 1989 comic, strips the story of its unique elements, transplanting it into a dark, gang-ridden setting that adds little to the concept of an extraordinary anti-hero with a broken heart. This shift brings the story closer to the superhero genre than necessary, causing Eric Draven, originally a tragic icon immortalised by Brandon Lee, to lose much of his depth and identity. Bill Skarsgård’s portrayal of Eric is but a shadow of the complex character found in the comic, and the character’s return to the big screen feels more like a generic action hero than the mysterious, grief-stricken figure fans remember.

This disconnect is further compounded by the film’s stylistic choices. In an attempt to imitate the French Cinéma du look, Sanders prioritises visual flair over narrative substance. The result is a film that swings wildly between different tones and aesthetics, failing to establish a coherent atmosphere. Vincent Roeg (played by Danny Huston) is introduced as a potential enigmatic figure, but the film lacks the depth or interest to explore his origins, reducing him to a mere plot device.

The tragic origins of “The Crow” franchise only heighten the disappointment of this new adaptation. The original 1994 film, directed by Alex Proyas, was haunted by the real-life tragedy of Brandon Lee’s death during filming. The movie became a cult classic, not just for its gothic atmosphere and Lee’s charismatic performance, but also as a posthumous tribute to the actor. Proyas’ film successfully mixed elements of Japanese anime, Hong Kong gun-fu, and a brooding industrial aesthetic, creating a moody, memorable cinematic experience.

In stark contrast, Sanders’ version lacks the emotional and visual resonance of the original. His decision to distance the film from Proyas’ work is understandable, given the weight of the original’s legacy, but his execution leaves much to be desired. The film’s industrial aesthetic, with its blurry camera work and twisted angles, feels more like a superficial imitation of other action films, particularly “John Wick,” than a meaningful continuation of “The Crow’s” legacy.

The performances in the film also failed to elevate the material. Skarsgård, known for playing brutal villains, struggles to imbue Eric with the necessary depth, reducing the character to a muscle-bound anti-hero devoid of the tragic weight that made him iconic. FKA Twigs, portraying Shelly, fares even worse, as her performance lacks the ethereal quality needed to make the character compelling.

As the film plods along, it becomes clear that Sanders’ “The Crow” is a missed opportunity. The script quickly abandons any attempt to delve into the rich mythology of the comic, opting instead for a barrage of explosions, gunfire, and violence that becomes tedious rather than thrilling. Gone is the haunting image of Eric Draven standing in the darkness, wounded and grieving; in its place is a hollow action figure devoid of the mystery and pathos that made the character a cult figure.

Overall, “The Crow” (2024) is an underwhelming reboot that pales in comparison to both its source material and the original film. It’s a reminder that not every story needs to be remade, especially when the remake fails to capture the essence of what made the original so powerful. The film’s missteps in tone, style, and character leave it as a forgettable entry in a franchise that should have been allowed to rest in peace.

Written by Alvarez and collaborator Rodo Sayagues, Alien: Romulus tells a story set between the first two films, beginning with the wreckage of the Nostromo floating through space as a crew we don’t know investigates the area, eventually finding the creature expelled from the shuttle by Ripley at the end of the first film, making the mistake of bringing it aboard. From there, we move to a colony inhabited by Weyland-Yutani workers and meet Rain (Spaeny), a young woman whose parents died from mining-related illnesses, and whose only companion is the synthetic Andy (Jonsson), reprogrammed to always prioritise her well-being. Believing her contract with the corporation is about to end, allowing her to leave the colony, Rain is shocked to learn that the agreement has been extended, meaning she must stay for several more years.

It’s then that her ex-boyfriend Tyler (Renaux) reveals the existence of an old, decommissioned ship in orbit around the planet, with cryogenic chambers that could enable the escape of a group that also includes his sister Kay (Merced), his cousin Bjorn (Fearn), and Bjorn’s girlfriend Navarro (Wu).

Production designer Naaman Marshall crafts a landscape that looks like absolute hell, all whilst maintaining the aesthetic of the originals. Every piece of equipment has large, buttons and systems that load user photos slowly. Ships, tools, and weapons display dirty, old, and irregular surfaces. The colony-planet is depicted as an industrial nightmare, where life is cheap and the workers live in darkness, and exhaustion, under constant threat of illness or death.

Alvarez and cinematographer Galo Olivares have learned from the originals that horror is often heightened by what we don’t see, plunging parts of the sets into heavy shadows. The filmmaker also brings new ideas to the franchise, such as the terrifying X-ray image and the zero-gravity sequence. The sound design is also flawless, opting for silence at key moments.

If I have any criticisms, it’s that apart from Rain and Andy, the rest of the group feels a bit one-dimensional, though an extended cut on Blu-Ray could potentially address this. Despite this, every actor delivers an outstanding performance, with special mention to David Jonsson, who masterfully adjusts Andy’s character throughout the film without losing its essence.

This is the best Alien instalment in nearly 40 years, although your enjoyment may hinge on how you feel about the use of CGI to resurrect a dead actor. However, it is worth noting they had full permission from his widow, who loved and thought her husband would be happy with the result.

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It’s no secret that the MCU has fallen by the wayside lately, with even its most die-hard fans losing interest. A lot of pressure and expectation rest on “Deadpool & Wolverine,” and while it’s a fun ride, it’s not quite the fix Marvel needs.

That’s not to say it’s a bad film—far from it. “Deadpool & Wolverine” is a very good “Deadpool” film, certainly better than “Deadpool 2.” Ryan Reynolds’ love for the character and source material shines through, and everyone involved cares.

The setup is intriguing: a TVA suit, known as Mr. Paradox (Matthew MacFadyen), has been tasked with tidying up all the dead-end timelines. He either lets the universes fade away or puts people into The Void, where these discarded souls come under the power of Cassandra Nova (Emma Corrin), the telepathic evil twin of Charles Xavier.

We catch up with Wade Wilson, who has long since retired as Deadpool and is working as a used car salesman with Peter (Rob Delaney). Wade is then kidnapped by Mr. Paradox, who offers him a place in the MCU if he helps him close Wade’s universe. With this universe’s Wolverine having died in “Logan,” Wade decides to find another version of Wolverine (Hugh Jackman) to help him defeat Mr. Paradox and save his world.

The film is fast-paced, foul-mouthed, and an absolute joy. As a lifelong comic book fan, it had me grinning from ear to ear. Team-ups happened constantly in the comics, and “Deadpool & Wolverine” is filled with familiar faces from the MCU and Marvel-adjacent stars. Even some fan-casted actors jump in for a slice of the action.

Every few minutes, the audience in my screening burst into cheers and applause as another famous face appeared. It was like “Spider-Man: No Way Home,” but with an added 26 years’ worth of nostalgia.

The problem with stuffing all that fanservice into a 2-hour movie is that it doesn’t leave much room for the story to breathe. Balancing all those cameos in a 2-hour film makes them feel underserved. Giving each character the time they deserve would result in a 4-hour movie, which would feel too much.

I’ll end my review here, as I don’t want to spoil any surprises. If you want to see this spoiler-free, do yourself a favour and see it this weekend.

“Deadpool & Wolverine” is in cinemas now.

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In 1996, Twister stormed into cinemas, becoming the second highest-grossing film of the year, just behind Independence Day. The movie received two Oscar nominations for its outstanding sound and visual effects. Its narrative, centring on a team of storm-chasers tackling an unprecedented tornado event while navigating a complex love story, captivated audiences. With Helen Hunt and Bill Paxton at their peak, Twister heralded a new age of disaster films. It wasn’t flawless, but combined with Jan de Bont’s directorial style, an extremely talented cast, and state-of-the-art effects from Industrial Light & Magic, audiences were blown away.

Now, in a vastly different world from 1996, Twisters aims to recapture that magic. Directed by Oscar-nominated Lee Isaac Chung (Minari), this modern disaster film boasts an ensemble cast featuring Glen Powell (Hit Man, Anyone but You), Daisy Edgar-Jones (Fresh), Brandon Perea (Nope), and Anthony Ramos (In the Heights).

Twisters begins with Edgar-Jones’ Kate leading a group of college storm chasers. A life-altering event in the film’s opening causes Kate to abandon storm chasing for a business career in New York City. Five years later, Ramos’ Javi, a military veteran turned entrepreneur, convinces her to return to Oklahoma to help develop a groundbreaking tornado tracking system.

Unlike Twister, co-written by Michael Crichton, Twisters features a screenplay by Mark L. Smith (Midnight Sky). While Edgar-Jones and Ramos share good chemistry, Powell’s Tyler, a YouTube storm-chasing star, adds comic relief and tension. Tyler’s social media antics contrast sharply with Kate and Javi’s scientific goals, leading to inevitable intrigue and rivalry.

Director Chung chose not to address climate change in Twisters, believing cinema shouldn’t preach. As a result, the film focuses on entertainment rather than scientific or environmental commentary, and it’s so much stronger for it. Every character is deeply flawed but yearns to be better. Powell and Edgar-Jones are a believable couple. However, Edgar-Jones’ accent slips occasionally, revealing her London roots.

Chung and his team deliver a mix of action and light-hearted storytelling, providing audiences with a whirlwind of entertainment. At just under two hours, Twisters maintains a good pace, though it peaks early with an incredible opening that it fails to top.

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The latest offering from acclaimed Japanese filmmaker Makoto Shinkai, best known for his 2016 fantasy film Your Name & Weathering with You, is a captivating and intriguing work of art. With its stunning art, stunning blend of sci-fi, supernatural disasters, and political commentary, with a touch of humour.

The story revolves around Suzume, voiced by Nichole Sakura. Suzume is a bright yet lonely teenager who lives with her aunt following the death of her mother. One day, while on a cycle, she encounters Souta, a mysterious young man on a quest to find a door. Curiosity piqued, Suzume decides to follow him, leading her to an abandoned ruin where she discovers a strange door in the middle of nowhere.

Like a modern Alice in Wonderland, Suzume opens the door and unleashes a series of cosmic forces and earthquakes. It soon becomes clear that Souta’s mission was to seal these destructive portals, and he needs a “keystone” to do so. However, fate intervenes, and Souta is transformed into a broken child’s chair that speaks with his voice. Meanwhile, the keystone takes the form of a talking cat called Daijin.

Thus begins their epic and quirky journey, a delightful blend of mythic and comic elements. Suzume’s story can be seen as an allegory for the tumultuous changes that come with growing up and finding one’s place in the world, but it goes beyond mere sexual awakening to explore broader themes of power dynamics, respect, and visibility.

Above all, Suzume’s mission is to protect nature itself, a powerful and timeless concept with deep generational resonance.

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