Review Roundup - June & July 2026

For the second time in a row, it's been two months since the last edition of review roundup. As for why, the reasons are mostly the same. Throughout the summer up to now, however, it really has occurred to me that I just don't watch as many films as I once did. I've recently been aiming for one every other day, around fifteen a month, and even that goal has proven a little tough to reach. It's not even because I don't have much time for film watching, while I do work most days of the week now, film is one of my few main hobbies and so I'll always be able to make time for it somewhere, there just hasn't been an awful lot of stuff calling out to me of late, and so I naturally haven't sat down to watch much. With that in mind, if you think the number of films I've watched overall seems low, the amount that I've then written reviews for has been even lower, hence why we had to go another two months before there was anything substantial to roundup.

As you might imagine, I'm not happy with this, so going forward I'm most definitely going to try and change my viewing patterns for the better, and I've already come up with some goals for the forseeable future. In particular, according to my Letterboxd stats, I am roughly seventy films away from having logged two thousand over the years, which is a major milestone that I am intent on reaching by the end of 2026 at least. It may not be easy, at my current rate I would almost certainly fall short, especially if we take into account how for every two or three first-time watches there is at least one rewatch too, but I'm keen to try and make up for the recent lack of activity as I would love nothing more than to not only have seen as many films as possible but to alsot have many bits of writing about such that I can share with the world!

But, that's a matter for the future; as for what we do have, one front that I wasn't slacking on in June and July was consistently checking out new releases at the cinema, not just because I regularly sought a pleasant escape from the awful summer heat we've been experiencing here in the UK, but also because both months had plenty of exciting new pieces to offer, and practically all of what I saw in the end was pretty good. As a result, this is what almost all of the reviews here will be about, except for one which technically isn't for a film but is still worth discussing nonetheless. Let's get right to it!

 

NEW: Disclosure Day (Steven Spielberg, 2026) - reviewed 19/06/2026

    "Late career Spielberg optimism and sincerity, a film that insists on the good in humanity and the idea that awe and empathy are what will define us over fear and hostility even in the face of great revelation, something only he would be willing to release in such a cynical world. It goes all out with its Spielberg-isms, be it in neatly drawing upon iconography from pieces such as Close Encounters [of the Third Kind], Raiders [of the Lost Ark], Duel, and even [Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the] Crystal Skull, or having regular collaborators [Janusz] Kaminski and [John] Williams go above and beyond with their equally enchanting visuals and music, respectively. It will always be a pleasure to have a new Steven Spielberg film to see at the cinema, but I feel as though Disclosure Day marks a point where that honour will only become ever greater, as the reliable sensibilities of the iconic director find themselves increasingly welcome and pertinent while also being thoughtfully negotiated with more than ever before." 8/10

 

NEW: Toy Story 5 (Andrew Stanton, 2026) - reviewed 28/06/2026

    "Didn’t have high hopes for this as I’m not a big Toy Story 4 fan and generally didn’t feel like I needed to spend any more time in this world with these characters, but I ended up finding it quite good all things considered. The introduction of technology designed for children is definitely a suitable angle to take on for another instalment in this series, and I’d say it’s handled pretty well on the whole. It avoids the predictable, safe ‘old man shaking his cane’ approach that I feared it may have gone for, addressing what damaging effects child-friendly technologies (namely smart devices and the social medias accessed through them) can have on children given how the presentation of such juxtaposes the depictions of childhood joy and whimsy in the previous films, yet it ultimately accepts that these things are just a part of contemporary everyday life and recognises that they can have positive impacts in places. It’s a constructive resolution that feels in line with how maturely and thoughtfully the Toy Story films generally opt to resolve their various conflicts, so I was glad to see the same spirit carried over here. Furthermore, this also contributes to another quality that adds some poignancy to how much time has passed since the first Toy Story. While I did find this entry a bit repetitive in how it rehashes certain sentiments from across the franchise, the notion of toys fearing being replaced resurfacing here amounted to a solid depiction of how every generation sees its own developments that result in the same experiences of those who came before being relived. It brought to mind that excellent scene in 2023’s The Holdovers where the suggestion that “every generation thinks it invented…” is raised, and I think that’s relevant in terms of the Toy Story series and how long it has lasted. After children of the 90s will have understood the aforementioned notion via the first film’s plot involving a new, flashy toy threatening the place of simple, more archaic ones, children of today will be able register it by way of this film’s rendition with technological innovations doing the same to toys as a whole, all the while any adults in the audience that have seen upfront the series unfolding over time will in turn pick up on the further meaning at hand. I will say that the film does feel a bit behind the curve on the technological matter - as someone in their twenties, I can distinctly recall the onset of smart tablets for one thing during my childhood when my Dad brought home the first iPad around 2012 and my siblings and I quickly became obsessed - but I suppose the impacts of such technologies have only become properly understood in the years since then, so now seems like an adequate time to delve into such on film. Although, I do feel like this commentary could’ve probably been done back in 2019 when Toy Story 4 released. In fact, this film does kind of make that one feel a bit pointless, where outside of neatly incorporating Woody and Bo’s devotion to helping lost toys established there, I do think this could’ve been the fourth entry without much difficulty. Speaking of which, I also appreciate how this feels like the most plain and simple Toy Story film since, well, probably the second one back in 1999. It doesn’t get bogged down in serving as an amalgamation of everything the series stands for nor attempting to reach a grand emotional catharsis like in the last two instalments, something that was certainly welcome as I find those aspects of the latter films a tad egregious the older I get, even though I still really like [Toy Story] 3 overall and think it sufficiently disguises its manipulative mechanics, meanwhile 4 is just wholly artificial and unsatisfying on that front. This one instead focuses on telling a strong self-contained story above all else, and all the better for it. That’s not to say it doesn’t have any emotional moments whatsoever as it absolutely does; I did cry on one occasion but really only because the film refers quite heavily back to Jessie’s backstory as shown in Toy Story 2, which I consider to be perhaps the single most devastating scene in the entire Pixar library. In that sense, it is kind of cheating its way to tug at the heart strings, but I’d say how exactly it utilises that area is mostly quite tasteful and satisfying, the one moment that got me in particular providing some pay off I never knew I needed. Otherwise, this generally has all the usual Toy Story charm. I love most of these characters, Woody is thankfully course-corrected after how annoying he was in the previous film, and he gets the chance to squabble with an equally amended Buzz for the first time in ages, which was a joy to see even if it didn’t match the brilliance of that dynamic in the 1995 original. Jessie being the protagonist felt like a natural choice and worked decently, although Joan Cusack definitely seemed the most strained of the returning voice actors which wasn’t so nice to hear. It is a shame to once again see the likes of Mr Potato Head, Slinky, Hamm, and Rex get sidelined as they are such a big part of the first three films’ identities and are responsible for many of their best and most memorable moments, but I suppose there’s not much more that can be done with them after a point as they don’t really have as much depth or nuanced arcs in the same way the main trio do. Plus, the new cast of supporting characters carrying the torch were perfectly fine additions that each had their moments, unlike the tooth-grating supporting cast introduced in Toy Story 4 (sorry to sound like a broken record but so much of that film just does not work for me, even after numerous reevaluations). While the visuals broadly retain the bland hyper-realistic surfaces and environments from some recent Pixar films, the character designs and their animations are very memorable and playful. I especially loved how the Lilypad tablet was personified, there’s one visual in particular of it bouncing around the bed with big googly eyes that had me properly chuckling away. I also really liked how the playtime / imagination sequences were created with a unique 2D pastel aesthetic to distinguish them from the main diegesis, it really took Pixar long enough to jump on board with the trend of wonderfully expressive and inventive art styles that Western animation has been obsessing over in the post-Spider-Verse landscape, and the trailer for their upcoming film Gatto shown beforehand indicating more of that to come on a primary basis is maybe something worth getting excited about. So all in all, pretty good going for the fifth entry in a series that had every right to stop around sixteen years ago. I don’t know if I’ll watch it again as much as I have the others, but I know there will be plenty to enjoy if I ever do." 7/10

 

NEW: The Invite (Olivia Wilde, 2026) - reviewed 12/07/2026

    "A wonderfully hilarious and profound course-correction for Olivia Wilde in the director’s seat. Seemingly [Ernst] Lubitsch-coded as a take on the romantic comedy drama, which I can only appreciate enough as a massive fan of his. Issues surrounding marriage and sex are at the forefront and explored in a way that is equal parts playful and sharp, and both the men and women involved get the chance to be delightfully bumbling yet genuinely endearing presences, with Wilde in particular channeling the same energy as some of the best Lubitsch leading ladies such as Ossi Oswalda and Pola Negri in both her body language and facial expressions, a pitch-perfect performance for sure. Even down to the composition you can see further traces of the director; it’s a wholly visual piece, where despite being heavily dialogue-driven, it’s all captured in a way that is consistently exciting, with varied shot lengths to signify fluctuations in intimacy throughout, and enough careful movements to keep the restricted, generally mundane apartment space feeling alive and bustling. I was a bit disappointed that the unorthodox aspect ratios alluringly featured in the trailer weren’t a facet of the language in the film itself, but I was impressed with how the camera was able to emulate almost the same effect through how certain shots are framed within the set, with an extensive use of such diegetic elements as windows and doorways as a means of cleverly altering the audience’s view into the action. Beyond this overarching point of intrigue, what struck me most about The Invite was how effectively it went beyond the conventional dynamics of the awkward comedy it initially presents itself as - it’s a film that’s firmly critical of everyday human interaction and communication, namely the presence of irony as a defence mechanism in those unwilling to properly engaging with the problems they face. Not only does it explicitly highlight this in a negative light, with Seth Rogen’s character being someone who feels an instinctive need to lighten the mood of a conversation when things get a little too deep for their liking, something that prevents not only himself but everyone around him from constructively getting to the bottom of their issues and feeling welcomed in doing so, but it demonstrates the necessity of honest confrontation as an object of its own. After beginning with a largely irreverent tone that, amid being extremely fun, doesn’t cut particularly deep as a take on the given themes, it slowly becomes far more sombre and dramatic as it goes on, and in turn decreasingly afraid to be confrontational as heavy sentiments are raised and, most crucially, allowed to sink in. It doesn’t for one minute smugly call attention to manner in which this progression unfolds as a lesser piece may opt to do, rather it elegantly and unashamedly develops into a frankly scathing commentary on relationships and how small acts of everyday complacency can have a profound long-term impact, so far removed from the frivolous atmosphere that commenced matters that it’s almost uncomfortable, yet at the same time just a little bit satisfying too. The note that it ends on is not one designed to be the most comfortable for these characters (and by extension the audience), but it’s one that they undoubtedly need to be faced with, and there’s something that just feels right about that. We all want to be able to communicate openly and sincerely about what’s going on in our lives with those around us, I for one find that the ironic undercutting of harsh realities can make for some of the most soul-crushing and vapid forms of interaction even if it is just a formality, so while I enjoyed chuckling and cringing at the brisk chaos of the opening movements, such only made the gradual transition to something far more upfront and meaningful all the more resonant. Easily one of my favourites of 2026 so far!" 8/10

 

NEW: The Odyssey (Christopher Nolan, 2026) - reviewed 20/07/2026

    "An outrageously spectacular epic, a direct and worthy successor to the seminal works of the 1950s and 60s. Moreover, a take on ancient mythology that sees Nolan use his signature hallmarks to provide a rich and distinctive take on the matter. His gritty and grounded style of storytelling enables a worldview that often times only suggests the larger-than-life qualities about the heightened myths we are all familiar with, and his non-linear approach emphasises how the tales of the figures involved tend to leans towards the excitement and awe of their achievements and experiences more than it does their potentially harsh reality. It’s a reckoning with the essence of mythology as perhaps nothing more than people rationalising on the natural phenomena of the world around them in their own ways, and there’s something to be said about how this may pertain to cinema as it’s own form of myth-making, one devised by seemingly mythic figures such as Nolan yet ultimately reducible to a series of mechanical components. Lots to think about and lots that will be sticking with me for a while, it’s always a treat when this guy has something new to offer, and I’m ever so glad I was fortunate enough to witness its entirely IMAX 70mm presentation." 8/10

 

CATCH-UP: Dear England (Rupert Goold / Paul Whittington, 2026) - reviewed 25/07/2026

    "As someone who fell in love with the England football squad during Gareth Southgate’s time as manager, I really enjoyed seeing an artistic take on the matter when it was adapted for the stage back in 2023, and this was generally a worthy adaptation for the screen. I’m not a fan of real-life stories being dramatised when they’re still quite recent history, I think it’s better to let the impact of things sit for a while and have all the facts come to light before attempting to devise a narrative from within them, which can in turn allow the story at hand to be relayed to an audience that perhaps wasn’t there at the time, and this is the one area where Dear England on stage suffered for me. It emerged at a point where the subject matter was still ongoing and as a result felt a bit clunky in how it executed certain things, as while its depictions of the 2018 World Cup and 2021 Euros were very strong, the events of Qatar in 2022 felt extremely rushed and shoehorned in, very clearly not elegantly fitting into what narrative writer James Graham had extracted. This is most likely because it wasn’t clear at the time just what significance it had in the grand scheme of things, which evidently wasn’t so much the case for the aforementioned tournaments that preceded, since it was instantly obvious that England’s achievements in 2018 were a striking far cry from how they’d done up to that point and that what unfolded in 2021 possessed a blatant, resonant connection to what Southgate became known for after playing for England in 1996. This isn’t even to mention the obvious fact that the 2024 Euros, which proved to be the end of the road for Southgate, hadn’t even happened at the time of the show’s inception. Consequently, Dear England as it is constructed here at this point in time has an advantage, as now that Southgate’s time as manager has concluded and there is a more complete story to be told, it does well accounting for what let down the source material all the while retaining what already worked. I still think it might be a bit too soon to make this sort of thing, especially since the idea of legacy is such a key theme throughout and we can’t say with complete certainty how Southgate will be remembered at this point, but it’s still perfectly functional and devises a suitably compelling arc from the comparatively more complete events at hand. Additionally, as someone who was there for most of what was depicted, I can’t deny that this was a fun trip down memory lane that transported me right back to the many places I followed this journey from, recreating all the highs and lows experienced throughout very effectively, something the episodic format was able to enhance given how the episodes each revolved around one of the major tournaments. Joseph Fiennes is just as good here as he was when I saw him in the role on stage, even if he does perhaps overdo some of the Southgate-isms a lot of time. The casting director definitely deserves a raise elsewhere too because most of these lads were absolutely spot on in portraying their real-life counterparts, especially the actors for Harry Kane and Bukayo Saka. While the overall formal approach is a lot more grounded and naturalistic this time around given the nature of the new medium, I did appreciate how the series kept some of the liminality that defined how the stage presented things, especially with its rendition of the penalty shootouts occurring in blacked out environments with nothing but the individual players and the haunting pitch space visible. So, overall, there’s a great deal to enjoy here, and I’d say it absolutely beat the post-World Cup blues by reminding me just how much there is the be proud about my country’s national football team of late amid all the heartbreak we’ve faced. Bring on the 2028 Euros, it’s coming home!" 7/10

Review Roundup: April & May 2026

Welcome to the next round of Review Roundup, once again a bit later than I would have liked. Over the past two months, I haven't written a great deal of reviews, and I also haven't watched as many films as I'd have wanted, especially compared to my March numbers. Between such factors as more time working and dealing with household renovations, it's been another slow period. However, there are still some pieces worth sharing, so today will focus on just that.

 

THROWBACK: Lancelot of the Lake (Robert Bresson, 1974) - reviewed 09/04/2026

    "A mythology drenched in shadows and articulated for what it is or may have really been beneath all the legends. I’m a big fan of these sorts of deconstructions on film, and it’s very curious here to see a French approach to Arthurian figures, that distinct cultural context perhaps explaining the largely cynical and unorthodox presentation at hand. The scope is mainly confined to contained locations that deny the possibility of sweeping spectacle, mostly unfolding in enclosed rooms and consisting of conversations between people who are, at the end of the day, just people. The soundscape is defined by the relentless, egregious sounds of clanking metal armour as the men wearing such awkwardly stomp around, unable to even get on a horse unassisted and also barely concealing the colourful and frankly goofy clothes they have on underneath. All throughout, everything is dim and dark, with scarce cracks of light through a window or lonesome flames from candles serving as the primary light sources much of the time, and exterior sequences overwhelmed by cloudy skies and muted tones, even in a lush forest such as the one that surrounds the lifeless grey castle and courtyard. There are times where Bresson breaks away from this unique depiction, but not without signifying how such isn’t faithful to the reality in question and ultimately just a construction, not unlike the myths that comprise the legacies of many Arthurian characters in our own world. The tournament sequence would be the most blatant example, with a sunny sky beaming down on the sight of brave knights on horseback engaging in an exciting match, which is then undermined as we frequently cut back to the musicians setting the mood and the reactions of those in the audience, as well as only getting fragmented images of the spectacle they are witnessing. The film also does well to reinforce how simple word of mouth is key to the significance of all those involved and how they’re understood, the titular Lancelot being absent for a good chunk of the narrative and our main insight into him throughout that time being what is said by others. While I’m not entirely certain that Bresson is completely self aware or knowing in executing this thesis, what he has achieved here is nonetheless able to function well as the unconventional take on this material that it broadly is and, as I take it, has a lot going for it in many potential other ways." 7/10

 

THROWBACK: Apocalypto (Mel Gibson, 2006) - reviewed 18/04/2026

    "A civilisation guided by beliefs from generations past and obsessed with the spectacle of such manifesting before their own eyes, collapsing from within only to eventually be met with an altogether new threat to its ways of life, aptly brought to life by a medium experiencing its own transition as hyper-realism and visceral authenticity collide with a unique digital artifice and gloss here. Hollywood was once an empire of its own, and for decades saw numerous forms of internal self-destruction and interrogation before such factors as technological shifts of the new millennium essentially shattered the industry as we once knew it. Apocalypto is therefore something of a cinematic prophet, arising in the midst of great uncertainty and looking to the distant empires of old as a means of understanding where the world to which it belongs may have been headed. Just as Jaguar Paw may have been the last of his people to stand and fight for the world he has always known and believed in, it may also be somewhat conclusive for works of its kind." 8/10

 

NEW: The Drama (Kristoffer Borgli, 2026) - reviewed 19/04/2026

    "I’m starting to think that this current wave of stressful drama / comedy films is one of my favourite genres at the moment; works like Anora, Marty Supreme, and now The Drama have provided some of the most memorable cinema trips for me over the last year or so. This one was ESPECIALLY painful to sit through, and in the best possible way. So many awkward and anxiety-inducing interactions combined with clever writing and direction that constantly keeps you guessing and consistently feeling uncomfortable makes for an all round enthralling bit of moviegoing. It helps that I like Robert Pattinson and Zendaya as much as I do, both being excellent presences here and continuing to display their adaptability and versatility as performers, something that definitely makes the regular appearances we see from both of them (this being one of many for each in 2026) feel welcome rather than exhausting. This is definitely one where a rewatch will no doubt reveal tons of new details I missed the first time, even if it will likely never top the unpredictability of the first viewing, which I’m so glad I was able to have without the central revelation being spoiled to me beforehand. All in all a real bizarre delight." 8/10 

 

THROWBACK: The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes (Francis Lawrence, 2023) - reviewed 01/05/2026

    "Conceptually intriguing but ultimately [a] very messy and kinda boring prequel. I like the original Hunger Games films just fine but their gradual shift from exploring the unique and interesting titular facet of their universe to just consisting of generic overthrowing an authoritarian government antics over the course of some very stretched out sequels makes them on the whole an inelegant bunch. I liked the sound of this one on the basis that it was seemingly placing the focus back on the games and their history, yet the form it ends up taking finds itself on the complete opposite end of the spectrum compared to the pair of Mockingjay films, that is to say, it’s extremely overstuffed and rather unfocused. It feels like there’s a few too many characters here, too many disjointed narrative arcs, and a structure lacking an organic flow between the various strands and not providing adequate depth for any of such. I don’t feel like any real noteworthy in-universe insight was gained here, and formally it’s about as bland as you’d expect a modern digital production to be, really the only thing I can say is that the aesthetic was mildly inventive at times, taking the grey mush of it’s predecessors and swapping it out for… old-fashioned grey mush? Nothing here really caught my attention otherwise, and I found myself mostly sat checking how much time was left while it was on. A bit of a shame considering the intrigue I had going in but maybe I’m just not into this franchise as much as one ought to be to get something out of this, never having read the books and only seen the previous films a handful of times, so take that as you will." 5/10

 

THROWBACK: A Canterbury Tale (Micheal Powell / Emeric Pressburger, 1944) - reviewed 14/05/2026

    "Over the last few years, I’ve tried my damn hardest to get on with the works of Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger. As a British film fan, I’d love nothing more than to appreciate the output of perhaps the most acclaimed filmmakers from my country, yet after sitting through five of their films now, I can’t say I’m anywhere close to being won over. Only one has struck me as anything more than middling, that being The Red Shoes, which I’d feel comfortable saying is one of the best films I’ve ever seen. Aside from that, it’s mostly been quite a tiresome bunch, with such pieces as Black Narcissus and The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp really testing my patience. Arriving at A Canterbury Tale, it’s easily the best of the non-Red Shoes selection that I’ve seen, not a remarkable feat given how low I consider the bar to be on that front, but still a somewhat deserving title as there is quite a bit about it that I enjoyed. To begin with, I was really on board with what was going on here; laying out the foundations of the narrative by way of iconic British heritage and mythology in the form of religious pilgrimages to cultural landmarks in the Middle Ages, only to seamlessly shift matters to the present and establish the central theme of changing times and the threat to preserving national values as the Second World War context emerges, and eventually introducing the primary fictitious setting of Chillingbourne in a gorgeous nighttime scene with lighting reminiscent of 1920s German expressionism as we meet our characters in medias res. This all gave me so much hope for what I was about to witness, as it seemed like Powell & Pressburger were cleverly drawing upon decidedly British culture and heritage to articulate concerns about the contemporary national moment and all in a way that appeared indulgent in the heightened landscape of cinema, something they thrived with in The Red Shoes and had all the potential to make its themes even richer and more playful on exploring them here. Despite this, as things progressed, I became increasingly disinterested. What began as so moody and sweeping quickly became rather tepid and myopic, as so much of that curious formalism in the opening was exchanged for a never ending stream of stagnant dialogue scenes with so little of a visual identity that really anyone could’ve assembled them. There were a couple moments every now and then that upheld that initial magic, with some shadowy scenes around Chillingbourne that stood out, but they were few and far between on the whole. It became apparent that the film was less interested in rigorously using the setting / space it constructed to communicate its ideas and more so just settled for spelling things out to the audience, which was disappointing. One key angle of the film is the idea of a modern-day pilgrimage to Canterbury, and as I was watching the film, I was a bit bothered about how this never seemed to come to fruition. Most of the events are limited to Chillingbourne, thus undermining the potential for the film to realise the journey as I had expected and hoped to see. By the end, however, I realised precisely why it was structured this way and found it to be very deliberate and meaningful, and on reflection, much about how the film pans out has some thoughtful elements to it. All throughout, there is talk of the old path taken by pilgrims on their way to Canterbury, but we never actually see such for ourselves and are even informed that what blessings the journey was once thought to provide are no longer apparent in the present day. At the same time, Canterbury is set up as this almost mythical site, its cathedral dominating the countryside skyline and seeming almost too heavenly to continue standing. It would be expected that the journey to reach such would be long and testing, and the film regularly reinforces that face based on the age-old tales we hear spoken of. It’s quite powerful and subversive therefore when all it takes our characters to eventually get there is a quick train journey, and despite the cathedral’s exterior continuing to signify all the glory and awe associated with the landmark, its interior is empty and hollow, the mighty organ within being operated by a man who once worked as a cinema organist, which connotes a sense of fakery around the promises of the pilgrimage. The surrounding area is also clearly shown to have suffered greatly during the war, with many other centuries-old sites being reduced to broken remains or covered in scaffolding for repairs. This is great stuff, where despite retaining the bland realist style in the majority of the film elsewhere, it is communicated what toll the war, as well as the inevitable passing of time at large, has taken on the given aspect of British heritage. All that being said, the way A Canterbury Tale ultimately resolves things is indicative of what I think might be Powell & Pressburger’s biggest weakness as filmmakers, at least at this point in their career. I really like the ironic undertones about their take on this side of their home country, but it’s let down by what strikes me as a requirement to not go too far in interrogating where the nation stands, specifically in the face of war. Of course, it’s perfectly reasonable for wartime art to preoccupy itself with boosting morale and national pride, but at the same time, regardless of how admirably earnest it may be, this sort of traditional British nationalist sentimentality is something I do regretfully find a bit one note and exhausting after a point, perhaps due to my own sense of national pride being at an all-time low these days. In the context of Powell & Pressburger, I find this aspect often comes directly at the cost of what could be far more artistically inventive and acerbic pieces; it’s how Colonel Blimp left me feeling, and it’s similarly the case here. Instead of committing to creating a sense of irony surrounding fulfilling an age-old pilgrimage in a time when the power of myth and legend are second to rationality and reason, the film opts to demonstrate the enduring nature of the core values encapsulated by the legends of old, providing its central characters with blessings in some form and in turn translating to the film’s way of assuring that there is always hope in the darkest of times. It’s not that I don’t want to see something like this happens to these characters, it’s just that there seemed to be potential for something for more unorthodox, and far more interesting, at first. As it stands, A Canterbury Tale is perfectly functional. It didn’t bore me like other Powell & Pressburger outings have done, but I might consider it more frustrating than any other as it seemed to exemplify and confirm much of what I’d been cautiously suspecting about them up to now. As I continue to progress through their filmography in a semi-chronological order from now, I’m looking forward to seeing more of what they produce in the postwar landscape when hopefully their films will be less bogged down in appeasing national demands of the moment. But, I can’t say I’ll be quick to get on with getting around to those any time soon." 6/10

Review Roundup: March 2026

Welcome to the latest edition of Review Roundup, regretfully a little later than usual as I was a tad busy over the Easter weekend. Following the relatively slow rate of movie watching in January and February (as detailed in the previous edition), I am pleased to say that March was a jam-packed month! I aimed to watch at least one film a day, and ended up exceeding that amount with a grand total of 33 films. Despite this, I didn't get much writing done about most of these, but looking back on the month, there are still a couple reviews that deserve sharing, some of which have a certain commonality you may notice.

 

THROWBACK: Wuthering Heights (William Wyler, 1939) - reviewed 04/03/2026

    "Love what Wyler does with space here; I’ve only seen a few of his films but if there’s anything I tend to fixate on, it’s the settings he constructs and what meaning is derived from such, think the vast expanses of the American frontier used to demonstrate myopic nature of traditional Western conflicts in The Big Country, or the sprawling urban landscape of Rome that becomes a site for a close connection to form between the unlikely pair in Roman Holiday. Elements of both those films can be observed here, particularly the scope of the moors connoting a sense of freeness and fulfilment when depicted alongside the interiors that comparatively signify confinement and emptiness. There’s something very [The] Magnificent Ambersons about the latter too, a certain gloomy and haunted quality within the lavish buildings that one would expect to be luxurious and comfortable. With some lovely deep focus and long takes capturing all of the above, this is a gorgeously and richly constructed piece on the whole. It certainly might have gone down a bit better if the narrative didn’t so firmly opt for rather plain romantic melodrama in executing this story; while I’ve not read the original Wuthering Heights novel, from what I gather it sounds like, for its time, a very nuanced meditation on class as well as race in some respects, and I would not be surprised to learn that this softens a lot of the sharp edges at hand to fit a more Hollywood happy mould. But, I suppose that’s par for the course when it comes to this era of cinema, if there was to be an adaptation made in the current day and age that featured the exact same sensibilities, I would most certainly be less forgiving..." 7/10

 

THROWBACK: Wuthering Heights (Andrea Arnold, 2011) - reviewed 05/03/2026

    "If you asked me to name any filmmakers I actively don’t like, Andrea Arnold would be one of the first to come to mind. I’ve never really got on with her aggressive attempts at social realism both in terms of how they’re formally put together as well as what defeatist conclusions they often arrive at, so I’m never inclined to check out a film of hers. I was however intrigued by her take on Wuthering Heights as, from what I heard beforehand, it sounded like an approach that realised many complications that the original novel only ever alluded to, fittingly so for an adaptation arriving in the 21st century, far removed from the simpler Hollywood days of William Wyler’s version. Having seen the film, it is just that in some ways, most notably by openly exploring the sense of otherness surrounding Heathcliff and in turn focusing on presenting the central relationship as something not necessarily romantic, which I appreciated. Despite being portrayed by a non-white actor, I wouldn’t say the film is too interested in saying anything specifically about race as a subject beyond utilising its basic feature of distinguishing Heathcliff from the rest of the cast, but it has a firm enough presence in the text to not feel insignificant. I think that’s probably the best thing I can say here, as otherwise this is mostly let down by a lot of the usual Arnold-isms; I can see how this story aligns with her usual thematic interests, but her style only partially does it justice. The dreariness about the setting is rather stellar and the lighting is often moody, but the excessive emphasis on grittiness and inelegance as we’ve seen from Arnold before is more exhausting than it is incisive, with an over abundance of extreme close-ups alongside nauseating handheld footage, much of which is disorientating in the least desirable ways, and frankly jarring editing with all too many unmotivated cuts. That said, while these things may have made the viewing experience less than ideal, that’s not to say they devalue the film as an object overall. It’s generally sound with the tone Arnold is taking here and it is refreshing as a take on Wuthering Heights compared to past adaptations such as the 1939 film. I haven’t seen Emerald Fennell’s new interpretation of the story, but from what I gather, it seems like a regression in terms of respecting the material and its nuance on taking it to the screen, something that may have been forgivable in the classical Hollywood years but is rather hard to justify in today’s world. That sentiment only rings more true when you have Arnold’s version out there fifteen years prior; for all its flaws, it does broadly operate as a modern approach to complex classical literature ought to." 6/10

 

NEW: GOAT (Tyree Dillihay, 2026) - reviewed 07/03/2026

    "It’s interesting to me that GOAT doesn’t seem to have made much of a splash in the animation community. When I first heard about this film, I fully expected it to be the next piece of mainstream animated output that would have a chokehold on the ‘animation is cinema’ crowd for a year or so, but, despite aesthetically having all the usual flashy Spider-Verse-coded sensibilities that people can’t seem to get enough of, it nonetheless feels like it’s managed to go under the radar. Now, I don’t want to act like I was ahead of the curve or anything, but in my review of KPop Demon Hunters from last year, I did mention how I was becoming a bit bored of this style / tone in modern animation and that, for me, such was no longer enough to make up for familiar tropes and half-baked narratives as they may once have been able to, and judging by the reception of GOAT, it looks as though others may be catching up with that sentiment. I did enjoy this a fair bit as there’s plenty of fun to be had with the dynamic game-oriented sequences and colourful characterisation, both of which delightfully take advantage of what possibilities come with having a cast of varied animal characters, but it is otherwise a lot of the usual sports film shenanigans and more often than not feels like it’s quite flippantly rushing between the various plot points. There’s a lot of Space Jam about this, not only in featuring kinetic set pieces based around basketball (or some equivalent), but also in just how fast paced and excessively efficient it was in constructing its rather loose narrative. I can imagine this having gone down really well and been a big hit had it come out around 2021, but in the current climate, much of what it has to offer can easily be seen elsewhere, and on a much greater level of quality too. Still, it’s decent enough for what it is, and the fact that it hasn’t sparked a further wave of aggressive incuriosity among so-called animation enthusiasts means I can’t get too annoyed." 6/10

 

THROWBACK: Emily (Frances O'Connor, 2022) - reviewed 09/03/2026

    "Yep, we’re now tapping into Emily Brontë lore instead of seeing whatever that new object is, although I might have already reached at a point where I’m exhausted on this topic as this was really quite dull. It’s funny how across the three films I’ve watched we can observe the gradual worsening of film form over time, from the endlessly gorgeous classical Hollywood days, to the unorthodox yet still intriguing grittiness of the late 2000s / early 2010s, and finally all the way to the tepid standards of the present. My god this was one of the most visually uninspired pieces I’ve seen in a long time; as much as I’m not a fan of what Arnold achieved on the whole in 2011’s Wuthering Heights, at least there was a sufficient amount of depth and heft in each shot as well as moodiness about how everything was lit and coloured, meanwhile everything here is so shallow and washed out and behaves so conventionally that it’s devoid of anything remotely expressive. At times it’s definitely striving for a sense of monotony, but that’s no excuse for putting no effort into how things are constructed themselves. There’s even instances where it borders on amateurish? One scene sees Emily and her brother sat talking in a windy field, with mostly a shot-reverse-shot approach to their conversation, and I ended up being fixated on Emily’s hair throughout because of how it varied so drastically between shots, in one being rather static and composed but in the other having various bits covering her face due to the wind. I’ll always appreciate on-location shooting but maybe be a little more inventive with your cinematography so you don’t run into these egregious continuity issues. Speaking of Emily, I really had trouble buying Emma Mackey in the role. I do like her as an actress and she does well conveying the necessary feistiness and frustration in a subdued manner here, but like, is it just me or does she not look quite right? I’m not talking some sort of ‘iPhone face’ matter that others bring up these days, it’s more just a weird case that she doesn’t really look that British? That seems very peculiar to say, especially after how brilliant and convincing she was in the decidedly British Sex Education, but in this period context something felt off about her appearance. When she started speaking French that felt like a more believable voice to be coming out of her, so maybe she wasn’t quite right for the part. Beyond her performance, I don’t think the film really does much of note with Emily Brontë as a character, the most I can say being that it prides itself in depicting situations in her life that resemble scenes in Wuthering Heights, and, to the film’s credit, rarely in a way that aggressively beats the audience over the head with the parallels in question (though I’m not an expert on the source material so there might’ve been a lot of perfunctory / forced references that went over my head). At times I was reminded of 2019’s Little Women, which adapted a familiar novel in a distinct way that allowed for incisive allusions to the original author Louisa May Alcott to be realised based on her protagonist, but to say this didn’t come close to being as effective would be an understatement. Overall quite the load of nothing here, I still haven’t seen it but at least Fennell’s Wuthering Heights seems like it has the potential to be enjoyable and memorable in how awful it may be, this meanwhile really is just nothing. Maybe if you’re familiar with Brontë as a historical figure this might be a somewhat curious object for how it strays from the truth / employs elements of her literature into her life, but if you’re outside of that sector like I am there’s not a lot to write home about, definitely not on the positive end of things." 5/10

 

NEW: The Testament of Ann Lee (Mona Fastvold, 2025) - reviewed 12/03/2026

    "Musical expression is catharsis, and so is the faith to which those at the centre of this picture are committed. A naturally forged connection between the two here aptly lays the foundation for a striking, thoughtful piece of musical cinema. Exhausting at times, yet consistently audacious and never afraid to shy away from the extreme facets of which it is composed, always letting the overarching theatricality and heightened modes of expression about its unique depiction have all the necessary time to flourish. Definitely one of the most distinct musical voices to emerge in recent years, wholly visual and behaving free of any rigid adherence to convention for the most part, in turn only enhanced by how incisive the form proves to be alongside the subject matter. A darker, more twisted side of American heritage on display through the genre here, but one that is equally as intriguing and perhaps made more compelling by the means through which it is presented. I would want to see more films like this." 8/10

 

THROWBACK: Louisiana Story (Robert Flaherty, 1948) - reviewed 19/03/2026

    "Flaherty being the exception to the classical Hollywood rule. It’s refreshing to see a filmmaker who, on the advent of film sound, didn’t let innovation affect the dynamics of their formalism in terms of how significant the image is. So much of this is carried by the visuals, with very little dialogue and the soundscape at large generally just complementing the picture, but crucially not completing it. This feels like it could theoretically function just fine as a silent picture, which is what should be the case for any film in my opinion. Dialogue and other sound features aren’t inherently bad elements, but an over-reliance on them and their co-existence with the image results in lesser filmmaking as I take it. Not bad, but lesser. In addition, Flaherty doesn’t let the newfound focus on efficiency detract from his pacing and construction, as he allows the landscapes he captures to have all the breathing room they deserve as he did in his pseudo-documentaries of the 1920s. Plot is not prioritised, atmosphere is, and even if a certain aimlessness weighs Louisiana Story down, there’s plenty to be in awe of at every turn. The bayou space is well defined, with both its scope as well as its finer details coming across effectively, and the juxtaposition between the natural beauty of such and the imposing mechanical machinery is also compelling. The time spent emphasising the facets of each, such as the sprawling ecosystem of the former and the endless array of moving parts in the latter make for a consistently engaging setting. Even on looking to the narrative at hand, what I deduced was a somewhat autobiographical quality on Flaherty’s behalf; our protagonist spends much time in the natural world and is initially intimidated by the onset of industrialisation, but after facing various obstacles as a result of their perhaps outdated means of perseverance, and on witnessing the destructive capabilities of those making their mark on his familiar territory, ultimately finds that cooperation with such and a combination of old and new is key to an enduring industry. While there are definitely pro-capitalist undertones here that can be fairly criticised within the film’s particular context, what it represents in a broader sense (which I find applicable to the film world) is quite intriguing and rich on considering the director and their filmmaking style alongside the time in which it has existed. Lots to think about here, I liked this quite a bit." 7/10

 

THROWBACK: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (Sergio Leone, 1966) - reviewed 26/03/2026

    "[The Dollars Trilogy] is the template for how any series of films ought to operate. Every piece stands perfectly on its own, but when combined into a single entity, becomes even more satisfying. I love how things develop across the three films, the scope of the settings, the levels of trust we can place in characters, and the extremity of the violence. We go from a contained story of a mysterious man entering a small town and manipulating both sides of a localised conflict for his own gain, to following a pair of suspicious bounty hunters as they undergo more elaborate measures to benefit themselves across a more expansive array of locations, all the way to a complicated trio whose loyalties are constantly changing as they navigate far-reaching distances amid a nationwide conflict, crucially trying to stay out of such given what threat it poses to their petty, selfish desires. The corruption and moral ambiguity about these figures of the Old West is more richly explored with each new entry, and while I wasn’t completely keen on A Fistful of Dollars due to its relatively simple nature, I now appreciate that being completely by design when framed against its successors. As the trilogy progresses, Leone’s formalism and set pieces get bigger and better too, with broader wide angles juxtaposed against even tighter close-ups, and assembled with consistently unpredictable zooms and cuts. Just comparing the climactic showdowns places his increasing brilliance into perspective. And all throughout, [Clint] Eastwood is the most charismatic and badass screen presence, and [Ennio] Morricone is as bombastic and flavourful as can be with his striking musical cues and leitmotifs. I’m so glad to finally have checked all three of these out and enjoyed them all very much, especially considering I haven’t always been partial to a Western and am still gradually becoming more interested in them and their mechanics. It’s no wonder as to why this is regarded as one of the best trilogies out there." 8/10 

Review Roundup: January & February 2026

Welcome to the first Review Roundup of 2026, admittedly a bit late now that we're a whole two months into the year. A mixture of being terribly ill for a short while, a brief bit of travelling, and not much on at cinemas enticing me all contributed to a rather slow month of film watching and thus review writing in January, and it only continued into February as starting a new job and watching the Winter Olympics occupied much of my time. Because of this, it only made sense to wait until both months had come and gone before putting together the next roundup, and now that they are indeed over and spring has arrived, we've got quite a few solid pieces to cover, so let's waste no more time in getting to them!

 

THROWBACK: Duel (Steven Spielberg, 1971) - reviewed 10/01/2026

    "The open road is the new frontier. It only makes sense, in the first feature outing from a New Hollywood icon like Steven Spielberg, the aesthetics of the classical Western are updated to fit the essential Americana of the late twentieth century. Gone are the horses and stagecoaches of back in the day, now we have cars and trucks populating the scene. The west remains an expansive space for action and excitement with heightened heroes and villains, but with a different kind of mis-en-scene to carry the torch. Love the bold visuals Spielberg constructs here, the two central vehicles coming across as well defined pieces of an endless cat-and-mouse chase, the innocent little red car and the enormous intimidating truck pursuing it, and the vast space for their duel to unfold is well laid out. The sound design is so effective too, the roar of the engines and the screeching of the tires make it all so engaging. It’s a masterclass in visual storytelling, so many clever camera movements help advance the narrative through nothing more than what the image can provide, as should be the case with any narrative feature. Cinema simultaneously reduced to its essence and built upon in highly inventive ways, really enjoyed this." 8/10

 

THROWBACK: Anaconda (Luis Llosa, 1997) - reviewed 27/01/2026

    "Man, I miss the days when even so-called ‘bad’ movies had this much flavour, practicality, and inventiveness about them even when much may not have worked elsewhere. I’m not going to act like Anaconda is a masterpiece, but when you pay attention to all it has going for it, it’s honestly a pretty solid and wildly entertaining time despite its weaknesses. Derivative it certainly is, overtly and closely drawing upon the creature feature nature of Jaws within a framework aesthetically reminiscent of John Huston’s The African Queen, yet in the process it delightfully injects that infectious 90s blockbuster flair that is so dearly lacking in today’s cinematic world, even if what I make of such may not align with the intent. For a start, it’s always a pleasure to be reminded of how films used to effortlessly construct well-defined spaces, here courtesy of clear on-location shooting and subsequently a good amount of depth within most of the composition. The sweeping shots of the river and the protagonists’ boat are effective for establishment, but the highlights would be the many instances of branches and other foliage framed in front of subjects as well as occasions where the camera is partially submerged in water while focusing on subjects above the surface, all adding a careful and subtle extra layer of immersion and grit. If you compare this to a recent film like 2021’s Jungle Cruise, which, despite being rather enjoyable, is considerably weighed down by an over-reliance on greenscreen effects and all the usual digital fluff, it’s a night and day difference. This extends to how the film constructs the titular creature throughout, with a mixture of tangible puppetry and animatronics alongside exaggerated CG models, enabling a sense of heft in how visibly it is able to interact with the actors on-screen, which in turn justifies a freedom about what heightened behaviours can be depicted in the set pieces. The latter elements definitely appear at odds with the gritty, on-the-ground quality the film possesses at large, but on closer inspection, there is equally a playful quality that can be observed in much of the formalism too, namely the countless dynamic POV shots and a fun dolly zoom, both once again initially recalling Jaws of course yet still featuring enough of a distinct identity so to not seem perfunctory in their uses. Moreover, as is the case with many similar films of this era, Anaconda thrives off of increasingly escalating matters as its narrative progresses; with much efficiency in how things rattle along, the foundation is aptly laid out for all the insanity to be extracted from the suitably simple, high concept premise. We go from the Spielbergian suggestion of a giant snake at first, to the sight of people being crushed by enormous coils before the striking head and jaws are revealed, to that of people being swallowed and visibly passing through the body from the exterior, to the same but from the perspective of down the snake’s throat followed by a body being regurgitated in a semi-conscious state, all the way to a building exploding as the snake flies out and continues its rampage while covered in flames in a Ghost Rider-like manner. Of course, it’s ridiculous and perhaps overly indulgent in how twisted and outlandish it can be, but isn’t that the whole appeal of films like this? I suppose it may be disappointing if one is expecting a more traditional horror-centric approach like Jaws, but it becomes evident rather swiftly that such isn’t what the film has to offer. This gave me the same vibe as something like Twister, doing the absolute most with a simple concept and refusing to back down until the most over-the-top on-screen mayhem has been achieved. The obvious thing preventing Anaconda from being on the level of that film would certainly be in the comparatively lacklustre characterisation, not having nearly as memorable or enjoyable an ensemble and minimising the time spent fleshing out their threads and quirks to a fault, even though not much was necessary in that regard for it to be engaging. That said, there’s some fun to be had with Jon Voight’s peculiar villainous performance, which for a moment seemed like a tongue-in-cheek Werner Herzog impression, something that, if intentional, could’ve been fitting given that the film also connotes Aguirre: The Wrath of God in its mis-en-scene. However, this leads onto what I think most crucially lets Anaconda down, that being how it is remarkably straight-faced on the whole despite everything operating within. I have yet to see the 2025 pseudo-remake starring Paul Rudd and Jack Black, and while that as a modern studio comedy appears like it’ll generally play things very safe, the seemingly more ironic / self-reflexive tone definitely comes across as something that would be an improvement over the execution here. While certain stars like Voight and Jonathan Hyde do at times lean into the silliness of it all, the film at large is underscored by a sense of sincerity that suggests a wider goal to make something genuinely frightening and compelling here, which I admire on one level but can’t fully subscribe to considering, well, just about everything I’ve described up to now! I mentioned how the film doesn’t offer anything as rich as the terror or thrills of Jaws, but I do get the impression that it may have nonetheless been aiming to replicate such for itself, misguidedly so if you ask me. In that sense, it’s more comparable to The Meg with Jason Statham, another relentlessly goofy creature feature that takes itself way too seriously for its own good, the only difference being that here the craft on display is actually interesting. It all seems especially bizarre when you also consider how the film revolves around filmmakers and a diegetic film production, one would like to think there would be a degree of knowingness at hand, but that angle is ultimately just narrative means to an end rather than anything thematically incisive. Nevertheless, I had a great time with Anaconda all things considered. While not completely successful in getting a cohesive thesis across, it does well in most areas it ought to if one is to take it for what it is rather than what it may have been aspiring towards, and it leaves me continuing to long for a bygone era of big-budget filmmaking that seems all too distant now. Again, I’m sure watching the 2025 version will merely confirm just how far we’ve fallen." 7/10

 

THROWBACK: The Valley of Gwangi (Jim O'Connolly, 1969) - reviewed 01/02/2026

    "Myths within myths, spectacles within spectacles, there really is nothing like a self-reflexive, self-defeating Western, and it only gets more interesting when you throw dinosaurs into the mix. The idea of the past being reduced to a matter of spectacle is nothing new, even on the topic of dinosaurs, a film like Jurassic Park addresses the issues surrounding the ways in which those in the present may exploit history for their own gain, typically due to its larger-than-life, spectacular potential. However, what makes The Valley of Gwangi especially curious in this regard is the context of the American frontier in which it unfolds, a space that is itself an object of the past largely renowned for its heightened mythology, not least on film. It reaffirms how it is never the present to which we look for awe and wonder, transporting us back to the early twentieth century and introducing us to a circus environment that boasts traditional scenes of the ‘Wild West’ to a largely vacant auditorium, most likely because such scenes are rather commonplace for the time and the spectacular coat of paint they are given in the theatrical environment rings completely false. But then, as pieces of the past are unearthed, here in the form of prehistoric, thought-to-be extinct creatures, the possibilities for show business are the first thing to cross the minds of our characters. Their pursuit of these creatures demonstrates the danger about them and their unpredictable behaviours, and capturing them even comes at a human cost, but, as long as the show can go on, that is all that really matters to them. Indeed, the promise of the previously unseen past being on display for those in the present to see proves to draw a large crowd, but the dismissive attitudes of those constructing the spectacle at hand swiftly becomes grounds for all that is established as real and dangerous about what they have acquired to take effect, much to their horror and that of those around them. It all culminates in a sequence of Gwangi, a poor creature thoughtlessly taken out of its time, engulfed in flames at the site of a great building under construction. It is not a moment of good triumphing over evil, for we are made to watch the innocent creature suffer and are then shown the horrified faces of those that brought this event about, the suggestion perhaps being that an ignorance towards the past and its truth in favour of short-lived spectacle is ultimately a threat to progress. Maybe this is all to be understood as a commentary on how Hollywood treated the West on film, relying on exciting myths of a temporally distant space that provided all the frivolous entertainment audiences at the time may have sought, but in the long term had such effects as perpetuating damaging attitudes towards Native Americans instead of rigorously involving themselves with some kind of truth surrounding such. This is not to say that The Valley of Gwangi strives to come across as some kind of realistic take on either the frontier or prehistory, as it greatly indulges in artifice via the delightful Harryhausen stop motion effects and is thus a spectacle of its own, but that is precisely what makes it so fascinating, the almost Inception-like quality about its approach to these themes. Arriving in 1969, a time in which the classical Western was most certainly on its way out and the new wave of revisionism would soon set in, it seems almost too perfect that a film of the genre at this point would question its own essence on the most fundamental level, that being in relation to creatures from quite literally the dawn of time." 7/10

 

NEW: No Other Choice (Park Chan-wook, 2025) - reviewed 03/02/2026

    "Expectedly terrific new outing from Park Chan-wook. Very neatly an extension of the overt engagement with contemporary sensibilities in approaching certain topics as brought to the table in Decision to Leave, with more slick digital imagery and endless sights of screens within screens, alongside an overarching decidedly modern angle about its satirical critique of capitalism. The final nail in the coffin of it all in particular seals the deal better than I ever could’ve hoped. Some may argue this sort of thing can make a text easily dated, but I find it makes for rich objects that embody aspects of the era they belong to and are thus useful to understanding such both in the moment and in retrospect. Loved the emphasis on more absurd elements too, and the occasional dash of surrealist imagery was an intriguing touch. At times I was almost reminded of Satoshi Kon in how elegantly Park drifted between scenes and characters belonging to varying times and spaces, whether in going from one shot to another or within the same frames. All the offbeat humour and shock value you’d expect is here and better than ever, overall just about everything I could’ve wanted." 8/10

 

NEW: Send Help (Sam Raimi, 2026) - reviewed 20/02/2026

    "Can always count on Raimi to deliver a fun time at the movies. There are some dull sections here where the premise feels especially stretched thin and nothing particularly inventive is going on formally, definitely a clear overarching disjunct between the conventional modern studio filmmaking at large and Raimi’s more playful and practical sensibilities sprinkled throughout (albeit less egregious here than in the last Doctor Strange film), but when it locks in it’s all great and engaging stuff. Sufficiently refreshing as a spin on the survival genre, with expected echoes of Cast Away but an added degree of silliness that mostly gets the chance to shine, and the commentary on gender and workplace dynamics is suitably feisty. [Rachel] McAdams is a delight and shows a lot more range here than I’ve seen from her previously, and Dylan O’Brien continues to make me wonder why he only pops up every now and then in new releases. Not Raimi’s best but a pleasure to see him back in the realm of goofy, irreverent side quests rather than being stuck in the slop side of the mainstream machine." 7/10

Top 10 Films of 2025

Following my recent final Review Roundup of 2025, we find ourselves at the end of another year for film. All things considered, I'd say 2025 has been rather solid when it comes to new releases, perhaps not up to the high standards of some recent years such as 2022 or 2023, but a fair improvement on last year for sure. If you remember my Top 10 Films of 2024 list from this time last January, you may remember I really struggled to gather ten films I considered worthy of being featured in my annual best of the year selection, but, this time around, I've seen more than enough films on that level of quality, which is a great relief, especially for the purposes of this tradition!

As such, before getting to the main selection, we have a few honourable mentions:

The Bad Guys 2 - far from the greatest film out there, but, by process of elimination, this would appear to be my favourite animated film of year, so I had to acknowledge it. It's not been the strongest year in this sector, but I found this sequel a delightful, suitably bonkers time.

The Smashing Machine - a massively rewarding watch as a longtime fan of Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson, who finally ventures out of his familiar territory with an engaging dramatic performance under the thoughtful and tactile direction of Benny Safdie.

It Was Just an Accident - another rewarding experience having recently got into the filmography of Jafar Panahi, the director delivering another profound story through his signature realist lens and in turn further demonstrating his exceptional dedication to the medium.

As with any year, there are plenty of 2025 films I have not seen at this point in time; some due to not having released in the UK just yet, others because I simply missed them and have not yet caught up. These include Marty Supreme, Sentimental Value, Hamnet, Bugonia, No Other Choice, and Weapons, among many others. As a result, if it appears as though something big is missing here, it may likely be because I just haven't seen it. Be sure to check out my monthly Review Roundups from throughout the year, or head over to Letterboxd for my full 2025 ranking, if you want to try and find my thoughts on something not mentioned here. Right then, without further ado, let's get started!

Just as a quick disclaimer, this might not be as detailed as my previous yearly Top 10 lists and may also directly repeat many things from my Review Roundups throughout 2025, and that's because I've been ill for first two weeks of January and thus haven't been in the right headspace for writing much of the time, hence why this is also arriving somewhat late in the month, so apologies in advance for any of that.

10. F1

By most metrics, I would almost definitely say that films such as It Was Just an Accident and The Smashing Machine are better than F1, but in spite of that, I just couldn't resist giving the latter a place in the Top 10. This was such a pleasure to see back in the summer, a simple, old-fashioned blockbuster that admittedly doesn't have the highest artistic aspirations but nonetheless succeeds in all that it sets out to do in spectacular fashion. I don't know anything about F1 in real life, but that didn't stop me from having a great time with this; the narrative is basic and derivative, but still extremely engaging, and all throughout, director Joseph Kosinski extracts all the potential for widely accessible big screen thrills that come with the concept, much like he did with Top Gun: Maverick a few years ago. I could easily dissect all that is flimsy and contrived about F1, but when I'm sat in the cinema and hear the sound of those race car engines firing up, I can't help but enjoy the ride.

9. One Battle After Another

One of the most acclaimed films of the year, and easy to see why, even if I don't feel quite as enthusiastic as everyone else may be. I'm not the biggest fan of Paul Thomas Anderson, he certainly has a few films I enjoy such as Boogie Nights and There Will Be Blood, but also some I'm rather mixed on, such as Phantom Thread and Inherent Vice. This definitely falls on the more positive end of the spectrum, being equal parts bizarrely funny, carefully crafted, and thematically resonant. I've seen a lot of people talk about how the film pertains to the current political moment, and I think the ways in which it does so are some of its greatest strengths. On the one hand, it does plenty to ridicule and criticise far right groups and individuals at a time when their influence is more dangerous than ever, as exemplified by Sean Penn's antagonistic Colonel Lockjaw, a pathetic yet also genuinely threatening figure. On the other, it also does well to demonstrate the weaknesses among those on the left in terms of combating such threats to this day, signifying their good intentions but also their ineptitude in organisation and unity, best represented by Leonardo DiCaprio's character, a passionate but bumbling revolutionary. This deft balancing act in addressing the contemporary political scene is key to what makes One Battle After Another quite an important text in today's world, not to mention naturally enabling much of its offbeat humour. Consequently, it easily belongs among the best of the year.

8. Rental Family

I love a nice, wholesome film, and 2025 delivered plenty in that regard, some of which you'll see here on this list. Rental Family was not one I had on my radar, but it ended up being an endlessly charming and touching watch. I was lucky enough to see this early at an advanced screening in London accompanied by a Q&A with both Hikari, the film's director, and the one and only Brendan Fraser, who leads the film. The enthusiasm and amiability they showed in answering the many questions there was clearly visible on the screen. Fraser is an extremely likeable protagonist and shows his skill as both a comedic and dramatic performer here, definitely the heart and soul of the film. Hikari also does really well as director and co-writer, namely in integrating the particular cultural context of Japan in a memorable way, whether it's extracting the implications surrounding the titular service in the country and how it affects people in various ways, or overarchingly presenting the culture in a way that goes deeper than the typical aestheticising us Western viewers are used to seeing it through. At first glance, the film reminded me of Lost in Translation, but it didn't take long for it to establish a distinct tonal and thematic approach to Japan, which I admired. I don't think the film is quite as impactful to me as it has been to others, as the friends I saw it with in particular displayed a much more personal connection to Fraser as an actor that seemed to enhance what meaning they got out of the film, which I can only respect enough. For me, as someone who likes Fraser but wouldn't consider him a significant figure in my film-viewing life, I thought this was a very solid and welcome time.

7. The Naked Gun

Yep, you read that correctly. I never in a million years would've imagined this film being as good as it was, let alone earning a spot in my Top 10 of the year! I hadn't seen any of the original Naked Gun films prior to this 2025, but ahead of this new entry, I checked them all out and had a great time with each. They're not perfect, but they're all rather hilarious and thoroughly enjoyable watches with a sense of humour that is right up my alley. Going into this reboot / legacy sequel, I was fully prepared for a perfunctory, soulless product that merely slapped the Naked Gun brand onto what is otherwise a completely generic and unfunny modern comedy, but I was instead absolutely delighted to discover what a truly faithful successor and completely hysterical time at the movies it turned out to be. The same style of comedy from those original films is retained rather perfectly here, with all the usual clever wordplay and absurd visual gags, and all the better for it. This is almost certainly the most I've laughed at the cinema all year, I was practically crying with laughter at some points! Best of all, while there are many jokes I can clearly recall and chuckle to myself about every now and then, the film is so dense in that regard that I have no doubt there will be plenty I can't remember off the top of my head that will be a joy to rediscover on revisiting the film. I'd love to see Liam Neeson do more comedy films after this, he does surprisingly well in filling Leslie Nielsen's shoes. Just terrific stuff overall, a load of cinematic joy devoid of any cynicism and packed into a concise 85 minutes. Really the only complaint I have is that I didn't get to see it with a packed audience of others also laughing away, as seeing at midday meant there wasn't so lively a crowd.

6. The Ballad of Wallis Island

Another film I didn't have the highest expectations for, but managed to exceed such in very interesting ways. I thought The Ballad of Wallis Island was just going to be a standard, witty British comedy film, nothing special but probably something that would pass the time nicely. To begin with, it was precisely that, as I sufficiently chuckled away at the various jokes and enjoyed the likeable performances, but was ultimately rolling my eyes as it laid out the groundwork for what seemed to be a very conventional narrative with a seemingly predictable order of events. This was particularly apparent in the central romance, with the set-up involving the unlikely reunion of two people who were once in love and the initial trajectory suggesting that they would against all odds get back together again as you would expect from a cosy comedy like this. I wouldn't necessarily be against that as I do love a simple film like that, it just would've struck me as nothing out of the ordinary is all. But, around halfway through the film, it becomes apparent that it actually isn't going to settle for the expected resolutions, and it becomes clear what it's actually about. Rather than a generic story about rediscovering past passions and reconnecting with long-lost lovers or something of the sort, the film questions what it means to be successful as an artist. For the protagonist, he is initially of the mindset that making as much money or having as ubiquitous a presence as possible is what he desires, yet it is made clear how such doesn't truly fulfill him. It is also shown how art once meant a strong connection with his former romantic partner, yet equally made clear how times have changed and that she has moved on from him and what they once were, as people tend to do in real life. While he may not have those things, what he does encounter is one person for whom his art has had an enormous impact, specifically by providing a space to remember his dead wife. By the end of the film, he realises how meaningful the sincere adoration of a single person can be, and finishes more fulfilled than ever by witnessing for himself what impact he has been able to have even if it isn't of the scope he initially sought. I thought this sentiment was really touching, and a completely unexpected turn considering how I perceived the film from the outside. Even with its more nuanced outcome, it still prompts all the usual smiles and laughs you'd expect from a film like this, and it has a really lovely folk music inspired soundtrack too. One of the most pleasant surprises of the year for sure.

5. Sinners

Definitely up there with One Battle After Another as far as the most acclaimed and popular films of the year go, Sinners is another strong outing from Ryan Coogler, following his time spent in the restrictive Marvel machine with perhaps the best film I've seen from him. I saw this the way it was meant to be seen, projected on 70mm IMAX film at the BFI IMAX here in London; I wasn't planning on going big at first, but on learning how a very select number of venues around the entire world were presenting the film in this optimal format, and that one of them happened to only be only thirty minutes away from where I live, I just knew I had to take the opportunity, especially after having a great experience with Oppenheimer in the same format at the venue two years ago. Admittedly there was something a bit jarring about the full-blown IMAX experience, as while the scenes featuring the 1.43:1 aspect ratio were stunning, they were expectedly the exception compared to the majority of scenes elsewhere. This is obviously nothing new for films I've seen in IMAX, but it was made especially distracting here considering that the non-IMAX scenes were presented in 2.76:1, a considerably narrower ratio than the standard 2.39:1 for most modern films, only made more outstanding by how little of the giant screen they occupied. Nevertheless, that's just me being pedantic, as overall the film looked absolutely gorgeous and I had a terrific time seeing it as I did and am glad I went the extra mile to do so. I'm looking forward to hopefully returning to the BFI IMAX for Christopher Nolan's The Odyssey this summer, especially since that will entirely unfold at the 1.43 size, which is very exciting. Regarding Sinners itself, it's all rather brilliant. The ensemble is really strong, and I like all the ideas at play, being a story about oppression in relation to religion, how society deems certain human desires to be sinful behaviour, and how when provided with a place to give into such, it becomes a site for all that is evil to manifest, harshly reaffirming that which is forced upon discriminated communities. On top of that, it weaves music rather expertly into the narrative, and thus serves as a rather unorthodox film musical, with both an excellent and diverse soundtrack and score. Definitely a highlight of 2025 in film, and it solidifies Coogler as a modern auteur with a thoroughly distinct and versatile voice.

4. Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy

Much like The Naked Gun, this might seem like an unlikely film to have made the Top 10, but similar to the latter, it manages to go above and beyond what many would expect from it. The only difference is that Bridget Jones is a franchise that means a lot more to me, having got into the series long before this belated fourth entry and thus being a lot more struck by the level of quality on display here. After the previous entry, Bridget Jones' Baby, another long-delayed addition to the franchise that, despite being rather wholesome and funny in part, seemed all too content with rehashing what worked in the previous films to get by, I was anticipating something on a similar wavelength here. I wouldn't have minded that as Bridget Jones always effortlessly connotes the infectious charm of a bygone era of British romantic comedies that I love, but what I got instead was a sequel that actively concerned itself with incisively moving things forward. Bridget is noticeably older here, certain familiar faces in her life are no longer around, and the everyday struggles we see her navigating are considerably far removed from that of the first three films. Furthermore, even though it's just as funny as its predecessors and had me laughing and grinning the whole way through, it also takes itself a lot more seriously in places. It's a story about changing times and how hard it can be to adapt, and you feel the melancholy come across on seeing how such impacts Bridget, and, as a result, this was one of the most emotional watches of the year for me. All things considered, it's certainly not a masterpiece, still having a lot of the typical cringeworthy moments that let down films like this, and, unlike The Ballad of Wallis Island, being somewhat conventional in its overarching narrative trajectory, but those weren't able to diminish just how unexpectedly powerful it was able to be elsewhere. One of the first films from 2025 that I saw, and still one of the very best at the end of it all. I'm also so glad I got to see it at the cinema, unlike those in the USA for whom this was thoughtlessly dumped onto streaming, a real shame considering just how great it is.

3. I Swear

Yet another unexpected delight in 2025, what a pleasure it is to have so many things of that sort to list off! As was the case with One Battle After Another, I Swear does really well addressing and depicting a serious subject matter, that being the real-life story of its protagonist navigating life with Tourette's syndrome, and in turn respecting that seriousness and letting the implications be registered while at the same time using it as an unconventional form of comedy. It's a feel-good watch with plenty of moments where the central condition leads to some comedic scenarios, but never at the cost of reaffirming how deeply affecting it is as well. I regretfully knew very little about Tourette's and absolutely nothing about the real-life John Davidson prior to watching this, so it ended up being a particularly insightful and valuable watch on top of how elegantly it was put together.

2. Mission: Impossible - The Final Reckoning

When it comes to big franchise films in 2025, the quality has rarely gone beyond anything just decent for me. Superman saw a solid revival for the world of DC, Thunderbolts* and The Fantastic Four: First Steps showed some signs of Marvel potentially getting back on their feet, Jurassic World: Rebirth was yet another sluggish entry in that tired series, Wicked: For Good didn't greatly improve on or worsen what its predecessor brought to the table, and Avatar: Fire and Ash just got by with repeating what had been done before. But, if there was one major franchise turn that I just knew wouldn't remotely let the side down on returning this year, it would have to be Mission: Impossible. The Final Reckoning seems to have proven divisive among audiences, but I loved it as much as most of the previous outings in the series. I can understand why some aren't so keen, as many have criticised the extensive exposition and reiterating of past plot details in the first act, thus resulting in a bloated and messy finale, but as I see it, the film successfully retains what have always been the series' strongest attributes. There's a consistent self-contained quality about each Mission: Impossible film, each one ensuring it can stand on its own on top of being an addition to the existing narrative, something that has become increasingly rare in the modern franchise landscape. I appreciate this choice and thus don't mind the time spent here to recapping what happened in the past films, and even so, as the grand finale of the series, I think it has deserved the right to be a bit self-indulgent at this point regarding the legacy it has amassed. Additionally, the action set pieces we know and love are on absolutely top form here, with the usual exhilarating thrills such as with the climactic biplane chase, or more slower and novel forms of tension such as that extensive submarine sequence around the middle. All of it had me on the edge of my seat, and even on briefly revisiting parts of the film when watching it on TV over Christmas, I was just as enthralled as ever. Overall, this just gave me everything I could have wanted from another Mission: Impossible film. It's not the best of the bunch, with Fallout and Dead Reckoning remaining my favourites, but it was an extremely satisfying conclusion and is easily one of my favourite films of 2025.

1. The Long Walk

If you're a regular reader of my yearly Top 10 lists, you may know that I'm always excited when my favourite film of the year ends up not being something I've seen many others cite. It's not always the case, such as in 2022 with Everything Everywhere All at Once or 2024 with Dune: Part Two, but when it is, such as in 2023 with Rye Lane, it's always a lovely little bonus. Well, I'm glad to report that 2025 is another case of the latter, and would you look as that, it happens to also be another instance of a film with David Jonsson too! What a wonderful actor he is, so charming and funny in Rye Lane back then, and now just as brilliant a presence in this year's very best, a very different kind of film. 2025 seems to have been a big year for Stephen King adaptations, and I've seen a fair few of them myself, such as The Life of Chuck and The Running Man. However, there's no competition for which is my favourite, as The Long Walk easily takes that title. I wasn't sure what to expect from this, but it ended up being by far the most moving watch of 2025. It's a simple story, one of friendship and just how powerful such a thing is able to be in even the darkest of times, and it gets that across by constructing a really endearing and diverse ensemble of characters that each bring something unique to the piece. Because of how the story is laid out, however, you know that most of them aren't going to make it, and all the time spent becoming invested in them soon develops into grounds for some absolutely devastating moments. In addition, it's such a well made film, taking a very basic and rigid concept and injecting as much life into it as possible. It feels suitably gritty and tactile, and there's a lot of variety in the settings and the way things are captured, so I was consistently engaged and found there was always something to be attached to. It was undeniably quite a tough watch, definitely making me cry more than anything I've seen in ages, but there's also something kind of beautifully life-affirming about it all. As I reflected on the film in the days after seeing it, I just thought about how grateful I am to have so many close friendships of my own, and such was clearly a key reason as to why the film and its tragic elements were so impactful. Ultimately, this is what I think boosts this film to the status of my favourite of the year, not for necessarily being the most groundbreaking, but for effortlessly touching a nerve in so many resonant areas and leaving me all the better for it. So, all things considered, I'll be thinking about The Long Walk for, indeed, quite a long time.

Well, that was the best of 2025 according to me. Once again, not the greatest year in recent memory, but it will do. Now, on shifting gears and looking ahead to 2026, it seems like we've got a lot to look forward to. As ever, I'll put most of my faith in the unexpected gems that pop up out of nowhere, but in terms of what's currently on my radar, the next twelve months are looking rather stacked with exciting upcoming titles. So, as is tradition, here are my most anticipated films of 2026:

How to Make a Killing - the more Glen Powell, the better

The Super Mario Galaxy Movie - probably nothing special, but hopefully a bit of fun

Disclosure Day - always a pleasure when Mr Spielberg comes back

Toy Story 5 - not the worst sounding premise, but my goodwill is rapidly running out

The Odyssey - need I say more? In Nolan we trust

Spider-Man: Brand New Day - lots of exciting behind-the-scenes, will it show on-screen?

Coyote vs. Acme - they tried to bury it, but I'll be there to show it some love

Digger - Cruise going back to his weird non-action movie star side? Count me in!

Narnia - can always count on Greta, hopefully also while under Netflix and a familiar IP

Avengers: Doomsday - I want to be excited, by my hopes aren't the highest

Dune: Part Three - I sense the missing piece of a stunning sci-fi trilogy incoming

Werwulf - Eggers is yet to let the side down, no doubt he'll keep it up