Author: Bryan Walters

Review- Absolute Batman #1

Absolute Batman #1 marks the beginning of a darker, more brutal Gotham, where a hulking new Dark Knight takes centre stage. Published by DC Comics as part of its All In initiative, this new universe reimagines Gotham’s protector in bold and fascinating ways. Written by Scott Snyder, with art by Nick Dragotta, colours by Frank Martin, and letters by Clayton Cowles, this is the dawn of the Absolute Universe—and it’s off to a gripping start.

While this issue kicks off a whole new world, it doesn’t begin at the very start. Snyder skilfully weaves together the past and present, offering glimpses of Gotham’s reimagined history while laying out the puzzle pieces of its future. Familiar faces are present, but everything feels fresh and different, with mysteries lurking around every corner. The pacing is deliberate, building a solid foundation before things inevitably come crashing down.

This first issue is about connections—specifically between Batman and the reimagined Alfred Pennyworth, a secret agent who no longer serves the Wayne family. Instead, they’re adversaries, and the dynamic between them adds tension from the start. The dialogue between them is sharp, especially during a brutal and graphic battle where this new Batman reveals his savage fighting style.

The new universe gives Snyder the freedom to reinvent every character. Bruce Wayne’s family history has been rewritten—his parents aren’t the wealthy elites of the main DC universe, and much of Bruce’s past is shrouded in mystery. The narration gives hints of his life story but raises more questions than it answers, leaving readers eager for more.

Alfred Pennyworth’s role is fascinating. No longer tethered to the Wayne family, he’s an independent force, showcasing his intelligence and skill as he navigates Gotham. The adversarial relationship between Alfred and Batman feels fresh, setting up intriguing possibilities for the future.

Many other familiar characters, including members of Batman’s supporting cast and rogue’s gallery, make brief appearances, hinting at their new roles in this reimagined Gotham. It gives the city a lived-in feel, even in this early chapter.

The artwork in Absolute Batman #1 is nothing short of mesmerising. Dragotta’s redesign of Gotham’s most iconic characters is bold, and Batman himself is the standout. This Dark Knight is a massive, hulking figure—more brute than detective. His imposing size dominates every panel, yet he moves with surprising speed and stealth. The cape is a character, adapting to Batman’s needs, from gliding through the city to wrapping around enemies.

The redesign isn’t just about aesthetics—parts of Batman’s costume now double as weapons, adding to his brutal, almost barbaric fighting style. This version of Batman doesn’t just fight crime; he revels in the violence, and it’s clear he has little concern for the lives of those he hurts.

Frank Martin’s colours elevate the story, starting with the familiar dark and gloomy Gotham but adding vibrant splashes of red and blue, giving the book an intense energy. The use of solid background colours in some scenes heightens the impact of the brutal fight sequences, while Clayton Cowles’ lettering fits seamlessly with the tone, adding weight to every punch and line of dialogue.

Absolute Batman #1 heralds a thrilling new era for the Dark Knight. Snyder’s writing is bold, and unafraid to explore uncharted territory, while Dragotta’s art creates a Batman who is as intimidating as he is fascinating. The reimagined characters and settings are fresh, yet the core elements of Gotham’s violence and darkness remain. This comic feels like the beginning of something big and unpredictable, a world where anything can happen.

Whether you’re a longtime Batman fan or new to the character, this first issue delivers a gripping introduction to the Absolute Universe and leaves you craving more. Snyder and Dragotta have created a Batman for a new generation, and it’s as brutal and uncompromising as Gotham itself.

Absolute Batman #1 is out now.

Review-The Crow

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.





Review-Blink Twice

Zoë Kravitz’s (The Batman) directorial debut, Blink Twice, is both provocative and bold, captivating you from the moment the first frame flickers into life. We watch Naomi Ackie’s (Doctor Who) Frida stare at her phone with a vacant intensity that screams something has already gone wrong. That discomfort is intentional. It’s what writer/director Zoë Kravitz and her co-writer E.T. Feigenbaum want you to feel—as though the world they’ve invited you into is irrevocably tilted, and they keep you spinning from there.

Blink Twice plays with familiar beats, but with an energy and pace that keeps you fully engaged. Within the first ten minutes, Frida and Jess are whisked away to an idyllic island by the ultra-wealthy Slater King, played by Channing Tatum (Deadpool and Wolverine). Days by the pool and nights filled with hallucinogens become the norm, and Kravitz’s filmmaking keeps the atmosphere lively and immersive.

The ensemble cast enhances the film’s appeal. Christian Slater, Haley Joel Osment, Kyle MacLachlan, and Geena Davis bring charisma to King’s inner circle. The island is so intoxicating that when the inevitable downturn comes, it’s not just shocking—it’s a gut punch that leaves you questioning your complicity in the fun.

Kravitz and Feigenbaum pack the film with themes of gender, wealth, and power, along with subtle nods to race. While some of these themes are presented straightforwardly, especially in the finale, they’re not entirely novel. Yet, they resonate within the context of the story, even if the dialogue occasionally feels like it’s holding the audience’s hand a bit too much. This handholding is a common issue in major studio releases and doesn’t detract too much from the overall experience.

What may polarise viewers, however, is the film’s finale. The intense and abrupt reveal pushes the film into genuine stomach-churning territory. For some, the cruelty of the final act might feel overwhelming, toeing the line between impactful and excessively bleak. It’s a daring choice for a studio film, and whether it strengthens or weakens the experience may depend on the viewer’s tolerance for such intensity.

There’s always plenty to look at in Blink Twice, much of it important in the moment and even more meaningful as the story unfolds. Kravitz gives us all the clues but doles them out in such a way that we still feel genuinely shocked by what’s happening on Slater’s so-called “Pussy Island,” while also—crucially—never feeling as if Kravitz and Feigenbaum are toying with us.

It may not break new ground, but Kravitz’s confident direction, combined with a stellar cast and a sense of playfulness, makes it a film worth watching. Kravitz clearly has a solid career as a director ahead of her. The movie’s ability to draw you in and then challenge your comfort is a testament to its power. Whether you leave the cinema exhilarated or shaken, you won’t soon forget it.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

Review-Twisters

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.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

Big Finish review-Torchwood: The Last Love Song of Suzie Costello

The Torchwood range from Big Finish is a triumphant return to the beloved sci-fi franchise.

Led by the talented Indira Varma in the role of Suzie Costello, “The Last Love Song of Suzie Costello” is a slow-burning romance that gradually builds to a satisfying conclusion.

Rafaella Marcus’s writing is sharp and insightful, bringing out a softer side of Suzie that we haven’t seen before. Director Steven Kavuma’s deliberate pacing allows the characters to breathe and shine, while the sound design by Shane O’Byrne and score by Blair Mowat add depth and dimension to the story.

Indira Varma’s performance as Suzie Costello in “The Last Love Song of Suzie Costello” is a true highlight of this Torchwood trilogy. Varma effortlessly captures the character’s complexities and nuances, delivering a layered and compelling portrayal that is a joy to listen to.

On audio, Varma’s voice carries a weight and richness that adds a new dimension to her character. She expertly navigates the emotional highs and lows of the story, conveying a sense of vulnerability and strength that makes Suzie all the more relatable and sympathetic. Varma’s chemistry with James Backway, who plays the captain of the crashed spaceship, is palpable. Their exchanges are charged with a simmering tension that makes their burgeoning romance all the more engaging and believable.

This is a must-listen for Torchwood fans, and a testament to the enduring appeal of the franchise.

The Last Love Song of Suzie Costello is available on CD or as a download from Big Finish.

⭐⭐⭐⭐