Review Roundup - August & September 2026

Despite stating in my last Review Roundup that I intended to get back to producing such on a monthly basis once again, we find ourselves once again here after two whole months have passed. However, even though it may not appear this way, I have watched my fair share of films throughout August and September, and even better, managed to write a few words about a lot of them! As was the case with earlier in the summer, it has been mostly new releases, but not without a few throwbacks all the while. Even so, what we also have here is also a great variety in terms of quality, with many good, some okay, and even a few outright bad. So, let's get started!

 

NEW: Spider-Man: Brand New Day (Destin Daniel Cretton, 2026) - reviewed 01/08/2026

    "This was a good time overall. It keeps up the great character moments that have always defined Tom Holland’s Spidey films for me, and at times improves on the generally lacklustre action sequences too. That’s the area that stood out for having held up the worst on my latest rewatch of the ‘Home’ trilogy, but with the more assured direction of Cretton here it’s able to sometimes go beyond the nauseating and disorienting web swinging and crashing I’ve come to expect. It also didn’t completely undo the ending of No Way Home as I feared it might, rather it’s actually quite thoughtful in terms of how it handles things there even though I found the latter a satisfactory conclusion. Not much else of note really, not sure why the praise for this is as high as it is, [...] perhaps people are just thrilled to finally see a more contained Spider-Man caper that reduces the character to its essence while also finding some ways of taking it to new places. I too like how it does just that, but much like last year’s Superman, I fear there might be just a tad too much going on elsewhere that gets in the way of letting the simple charm at its very core have all the space to shine for what it is." 7/10

 

THROWBACK: Hunt for the Wilderpeople (Taika Waititi, 2016) - reviewed 18/08/2026

    "I missed this during its initial theatrical run, and since it has become one of my favourite films of all time over the years, I was eager to see it on the big screen when I found out it was returning for its 10th anniversary, and to no one’s surprise, the experience was a delight. I absolutely loved hearing all the moments of comedy I know and love be met with collective laughter from an in-person audience, there’s still so much here that effortlessly put a smile on my face. It really is one of the most quotable films of the last decade for me, any time it pops into my head there are countless lines I find myself able to recite and chuckle away at, and they just never get old. This was also my first time watching it in a world without Sam Neill, and I would have to say this is probably my favourite role of his. Even on putting the film’s special meaning for me aside, the dynamic he has with Julian Dennison here is so endearing and makes for so many memorable moments and interactions, I just can’t get enough of it. There’s just so much to love here, and it’s a shame that nothing Taika has done in the ten years since its release has come close to capturing its charm, this really did mark the end of an era for him. Even as someone who is still yet to see such films as What We Do in the Shadows and Boy, I can safely say that the portion of the director’s career to which those films and Hunt for the Wilderpeople belong is infinitely more interesting than where he’s gone subsequently. This is also the third viewing in a row I’ve had where I’ve managed to introduce the film to various people in my own life, and seeing their reactions throughout only enhances my enjoyment, today being no different. I’ll no doubt be coming back to this for many more years to come, and will hopefully find more and more people to continue sharing it with all the while." 9/10

THROWBACK: Heathers (Michael Lehmann, 1989) - reviewed 23/08/2026

    "[The] First title in my newly upgraded physical media collection that I’ve taken for a spin (albeit not on a 4K TV of my own), and a great way to get things started on that front.* I enjoyed Heathers on my first viewing, but didn’t think it was much more than just plain good, and on becoming obsessed with Heathers the Musical shortly afterwards, it really only went down in my mind. The musical struck me as a far improved and more assured take on this story, using the theatrical space to enhance its heightened and outrageous qualities, essentially taking what’s already there but taking it a much needed step further. It applies to almost everything, be it the characterisation, costuming, lighting, and more. The music is also phenomenal and plays a key role in bringing the thesis together, and it’s a bonus that almost every song is memorable and an absolute joy to listen to in isolation. Thus, the musical quite easily became the optimum version of this material in my mind, and whenever I thought back to the film, there wasn’t much about it I considered superior or even noteworthy, aside from the performances of Winona Ryder and Christian Slater undoubtedly being the definitive versions of their respective characters (a sentiment I still hold to this day). Despite this, part of me wanted to give the film another go at some point, and after finally seeing Heathers the Musical on stage this summer and discussing how it compares to the original film with others, it seemed like the time was right to return to Westerberg High in its original incarnation. As it turns out, there was no better way to do so than on Arrow Video’s gorgeous 4K disc, which revealed how there is a lot of creative and stylish stuff going on formally that matches the tone and energy of the musical. So much of the lighting, for instance, is extremely distinct here, expertly using the basic yet iconic colour scheme of red, yellow, green, and blue about the central characters to define so many scenes in a really striking way. I particularly love the party scene in this regard, which features Veronica bathed in red while indoors only to step outside and become engulfed in a blue nighttime glow as well as the bright flickering of a fire just in time for her confrontation with Heather Chandler. The same goes for Veronica’s nightmare set in an imagined funeral for Heather Duke, with plenty of the green that defines the latter character consuming the church space in an eerie way, while Veronica watches from the back covered in a haunting red light as a ghostly Heather Chandler taunts her, almost capturing the same sense of liminality about the stage space in the musical on screen. Consequently, I no longer feel like the film is quite holding back as I once thought it did, and I find it to actually possess many of the elements I once considered amendments about the musical but in its own, uniquely cinematic ways, which is the best case scenario for two renditions of the same material operating in different mediums. As a whole, I still think Heathers the Musical is overall the more successful and cohesive piece, and I can’t deny that there were plenty of times where the impact of its additions and alterations were greatly felt (the whole climax in particular feels so lifeless here without the boisterousness of Dead Girl Walking Reprise underpinning everything), but I am very glad to have gone back and realised that the basis of what is now one of my favourite pieces of musical theatre doesn’t drastically pale in comparison to its adaptation as I once thought it did." 8/10

*This will be the subject of an upcoming retrospective that I'm planning to release around the end of the year, so stay tuned for that if interested!

 

NEW: The End of Oak Street (David Robert Mitchell, 2026) - reviewed 24/08/2026

    "Modern Hollywood and dinosaurs… name me a worse combo. This is admittedly more interesting than the sludge of the latest Jurassic World sequels or other recent misfires like 2023’s 65, but it still leaves a lot to be desired. It’s sufficiently diverting as a throwback to the simplistic excitement and warmth of 1980s family blockbusters, yet I can’t help but feel like there’s a smarter film in here somewhere, maybe one that interrogates that time period and cinematic aesthetic in some way. But this is more so just emblematic of such instead of attempting to dissect it at all; you could’ve released it in the 1980s as is and it wouldn’t really feel out of place or ahead of the curve, which only speaks to how disinterested it is in saying anything about that given time and the familiar suburban atmosphere in which it unfolds as we now understand them in the 2020s. It’s a shame because the film starts in a manner that indicates this sort of approach, with Michael Giacchino’s music abruptly overemphasising the whimsy of classic John Williams while some actors like Ewan McGregor seem to lean into caricature with their performances. But as it goes on, this becomes less the case, with Anne Hathaway for one dramatically giving it her all and the sincerity about how the narrative wishes to be taken becoming more prevalent, leaving one to rethink whether any of what they just saw was the least bit self aware whatsoever. There are some fun set pieces throughout, and the dinosaurs are depicted in a fairly unconventional way which I appreciated, particularly with their rather unappealing appearances as well as the frankly horrifying sounds some of them make. I haven’t seen any of writer / director David Robert Mitchell’s prior work, but from what I gather, I would’ve thought that he’d be above this sort of thing. Although, when you see his name directly followed by JJ Abrams as producer in the credits, it sort of adds up. I suppose the whole thing can be understood as a means of escaping director’s jail, that is to say, a rather safe outing on the whole but not without the occasional curious touches half heartedly dotted throughout to make the endeavour a tad more worthwhile. One can only hope whatever pay Mitchell got from this will allow him to go back to more interesting territory, something I don’t think can wholeheartedly be said about Oak Street." 6/10

 

NEW: Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma (Jane Schoebrun, 2026) - reviewed 30/08/2026

    "A film about so, so many things, highlighting the artifice of cinema and how this pertains to our subjective views of the world, exploring the disjunct between interpreting the medium on a purely emotional level against a colder more analytical lens, questioning the role of the viewer, and of course deconstructing the slasher genre as it has existed over time. So much fun to be had, so much left to ponder. A pleasure to see such delights as painted backdrops and split diopters front and centre on a cinema screen in this day and age. Self-reflexivity and interrogating the essence of film is and always will be my jam, this is one of the most exciting instances of late." 8/10

 

CATCH-UP: Wuthering Heights (Emerald Fennell, 2026) - reviewed 31/08/2026

    "An expectedly woeful attempt at breathing new life into Wuthering Heights, opting for vapid neoclassical melodrama fused with a sense of contemporary edginess and in turn reducing the source material to its surface level facets and dismissing any of its subtext. Not the most misguided endeavour in today’s day and age if the film had an overtly postmodern sense of knowingness towards the shallowness at hand and an interest in dissecting and commenting on such for some broader, self-reflexive purpose, but this is Emerald Fennell we’re talking about, someone so out of touch at this point that I find it hard to believe what we see here is anything other than her completely unironic interpretation of Emily Brontë’s novel, as she might be the last person I trust to have a nuanced understanding of the issues regarding class and race relations at hand here. Her interests go no further than aesthetics; this film is competently helmed and not without the occasional dash of visual grit and depth, but it becomes apparent after ten minutes that she has nothing to say all the while. She doesn’t even go all out with the more outlandish side of her rendition as much as I was led to believe, in the end it just comes down to a few brief moments of supposedly sexy content that seem specifically designed to look striking and audacious in the landscape of a choppily edited trailer, as otherwise this is remarkably stagnant and repetitive so much of the time, and I spent most of the runtime ready for it to be over. I wouldn’t say it’s abject failure on all grounds but at the same time I do sort of wish that it was, that at least would have made the experience more enjoyable on some level. Ultimately it’s just a load of nothing, equal parts tame, hollow, regressive, and unbelievably boring." 3/10

 

CATCH-UP: Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu (Jon Favreau, 2026) - reviewed 04/09/2026

    "Despite it having been a few months ago now, I still can’t quite comprehend how a new STAR WARS film was released in cinemas and I did not care to see it one bit. In fact, it was an easy skip for me. Around the same time, I was happy to go out and pay money to see the likes of a murder mystery with talking sheep as well as the sixth instalment in a horror parody series, but when it came to a new entry in one of the most iconic and beloved film franchises of all time, the prospect of which would’ve been the most exciting thing to me ten years ago, that could wait for its inevitable drop on streaming, which is where we find it today. That’s quite something, isn’t it? To be fair, I’m not the biggest fan of the show The Mandalorian that this follows on from. I enjoyed the first season as a departure from the familiar side of the Star Wars universe with a distinct atmosphere about it, but then it gradually became more and more preoccupied with slotting itself into the wider lore and concerning existing characters from here, there, and everywhere, thus undermining most of what it had going for it to begin with. That’s kind of the core problem with Star Wars media in this day and age, hardly any of it is able to stand on its own as there’s almost this unspoken obligation to tie everything in with endless amounts of prior content, and when you’re only a casual fan like myself, that’s more off-putting than anything. That and I feel like the newer stuff just doesn’t have any bit of the imagination and invention that once defined the series and makes its earlier works so curious to look back on, and with so much being produced on an annual basis, it quickly becomes quite tepid. This isn’t the case for everything, The Last Jedi and Andor are both examples of strong standalone pieces that go beyond drawing upon older / familiar Star Wars narratives and iconography for their thematic and stylistic inspirations, but ultimately it’s the few exceptions that prove the rule. Suffice to say, I used to love Star Wars with all my heart, and I still hold great affinity for the episodic films as well as some of the wider material, but my feelings towards the franchise as the expansive entity it has evolved into would now be a net negative all things considered. Arriving at Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu, what we have isn’t conceptually the worst thing imaginable, but in execution is guilty of practically everything wrong with the franchise at this point in time. I’m actually fully on board with the idea of a one-off film in this universe that prides itself on nothing more than spectacular sci-fi thrills with memorable characters, but as it has come to fruition here just isn’t what it ought to be. For a start, one’s engagement with this narrative is almost entirely predicated on prior engagement; who are these characters? What exactly is going on in their side of the universe at this point? Why should we care? These are all things the film either doesn’t concern itself with or briskly speedruns so it can just cut to the chase with its set pieces. Obviously having seen The Mandalorian series I do have some idea of where we’re at, but the value of the film as an individual object (something it should strive to be taken as on transitioning to the big screen) is diminished through its laziness on this front. It’s perfectly possible to achieve a balancing act of not tiring your dedicated fans while also keeping newcomers in the loop; I’ll always cite the Mission: Impossible films as perfect examples of this, with every new entry taking some time to re-establish where the series finds itself so that they each remain self-contained and don’t come across as incomplete despite also neatly fitting into a larger whole. The Mandalorian and Grogu is the opposite, as unless you’ve consumed many hours of existing content, you’re probably going to be left in the dark to some extent. Even I as someone who has sat through my fair share of Star Wars material over time, as far as I’m aware everything featuring the titular characters here at the very least, was still left with a lot of questions! Who was the random purple guy with pointy ears joining Mando and Grogu? What was the deal with that tall guy with the big hat and his dog? Sure, these are just side characters and you can probably take an educated guess as to who / what they are based on how they operate within the narrative, but it’s just a bit frustrating of the film to assume its viewers are all-knowing on this front so it doesn’t have to do any legwork itself, especially when it’s a matter of crossing between different mediums, in this case film, television, and goodness knows what else. Additionally, this can’t help but also reek of aggressively pandering to fans, because as we all know, nothing is more exciting to Star Wars fans than their beloved glup shittos appearing on screen for five minutes only to contribute nothing to the overall piece. I’m all for a bit of fan service here and there, but it needs some sort of constructive purpose to feel truly satisfying and earned, as simply pointing out something you recognise isn’t enough for me. The issue of the film’s standalone status is only exacerbated by how it so blatantly feels like several episodes of television haphazardly taped together. There are cuts to black throughout that you can tell were likely once intended to be where one episode ended and another began, and the pace is rather awkward as large chunks involve practically nothing of note happening, the sort of padding that’s perhaps forgivable within a more far-reaching season of television but absolutely destroys the momentum of a single two-hour film where efficiency should be more of a priority. As if things couldn’t get worse from there, The Mandalorian and Grogu happens to also unsurprisingly be one of the most visually insipid and unimaginative works in the entire franchise. It absolutely feels like it belongs on the small screen despite its desperate attempts to suggest otherwise, consisting of little more than the monotonous, overexposed, and softly lit grey mush we’ve become all too accustomed to in our streaming content. Favreau isn’t a bad director by any means, rewatching the first Iron Man recently reminded me how much tactility and moodiness the Marvel franchise once had before the aforementioned look and feel became the standard there too, but here the most exciting thing about his formalism would be comparatively superficial elements such as the constant shifting to IMAX aspect ratios, a frankly basic means of enhancing scope, with no meaningful depth, colour, or expression in the actual images he constructs. Moreover, there’s just no sense of a filmmaker behind the camera employing their own cinematic inspirations and interests here, something that generally isn’t a dealbreaker for me but is nonetheless always nice to see, and also what I’ve come to expect from Star Wars. While I’ve always liked the original six films, what helps that adoration persist into the present is being able to go back and recognise the clear directorial interests of George Lucas within them. Even in a lesser entry like The Phantom Menace, there’s so much going on that amounts to a really fascinating object with a clear sense of building on an existing wider cinematic lineage, such as the pod-race sequence effectively being Lucas’ take on the hefty chariots of William Wyler’s Ben-Hur in a hyper computer-generated landscape. This sort of thing has been few and far between in the Disney era; some may despise The Last Jedi for whatever reasons, but the fact is that remains one of the few instances where a Disney Star Wars product has come close to replicating this dynamic, with Rian Johnson thematically taking after Akira Kurosawa just as Lucas once did while also employing visual nods to films like Wings and Vertigo. As is to be expected, nothing of the sort is apparent here, with the only points of inspiration being nothing more than the aesthetics of older Star Wars works but without any of the charm. For example, remember the holographic board game that Chewbacca plays on the Millennium Falcon? The one where the avatars are brought to life in a manner that lovingly harks back to Ray Harryhausen esque stop motion creatures? Well, there’s an elaborate set piece here that greatly refers back to that, except it’s reduced to the novelty of recreating the familiar sight from the original trilogy and employs flavourless CGI to get the job done. Beyond that, nothing new or intriguing is established about the Star Wars universe here, all the locations have a sense of ‘been there, done that’ about them, the narrative is just about the most pedestrian set-up and series of events anyone could’ve conceived for this franchise at this stage. I’m a firm believer that not just the original six-film saga but the original trilogy alone had all the necessary scope and variety to make this universe feel as diverse, lived-in, and memorable as it needed to be, as since then things have mostly just been variations on what was brought to the table there, and it’s become increasingly uninspired with each new iteration. There isn’t even much of the distinct space Western vibe that the first season of the show had here, which only speaks to how far these characters have been functioned into the broader Star Wars mythos that their unique edge no longer shines through. I will admit, the film isn’t quite as bad as I feared it would be. I was bored all the way through for sure, but it wasn’t an infuriating experience as much as it was just an exhausting one. On the plus side, and I really hate to say this, but while Pedro Pascal’s Mando is a character I don’t consider all too exciting or compelling anymore, I do still find Grogu a delightful presence after all these years. It really shouldn’t work, the schtick with him is so one note and basically just a goofy, cutesy puppet doing goofy, cutesy things on-screen, but [...] he still effortlessly puts a smile on my face and makes me chuckle. If that removes any credibility I have as a serious writer in your eyes, so be it. Although, even if I were to try being vulgar in my defence of the little green goofball, he is honestly the closest thing Favreau has to a clear stylistic inspiration as discussed a moment ago. There’s one scene in the film where he and some other small puppet creatures navigate a tunnel, which reminded me of the craft in Jim Henson works like Labyrinth and The Dark Crystal, and that’s something I can appreciate in today’s cinematic scene, even if it has been a facet of Star Wars since its inception and thus isn’t the most striking thing to employ here. However, it cannot be said that adorable Grogu shenanigans are enough to sustain an entire feature, as while they might have kept me from falling asleep altogether, they could only do so much to make the experience truly worthwhile. Ludwig Göransson’s music is also pretty decent, remaining a welcome divergence from the traditional Star Wars fanfare, although some of it was a bit jarring at the same time. I’m all for his unorthodox instrumentation but some of the electronic infused motifs here were more ill-fitting than anything, almost had me thinking I was listening to 90s disco music on some occasions, which was distracting in the context of a Star Wars film to say the least. Whatever way you look at it, Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu emblematises the very issues that have let down the Star Wars brand for years now. It barely stands as an individual piece of work, and little to no creativity seems to have been implemented along the way. Even the title annoys me and speaks to the problem, as it’s literally just popular brand + popular character + other popular character. Excuse me for being pedantic, but what happened to the ‘A Star Wars Story’ subtitle that the anthology films of the 2010s established? It wasn’t much, but it added a neat flair that made the titles more intriguing. Like, which of these sounds better: ‘Solo: A Star Wars Story’, or simply ‘Star Wars: Han Solo’? Why couldn’t this have been called ‘The Mandalorian and Grogu: A Star Wars Story’? In fact, referring to the two of them in those terms doesn’t even make sense together; ‘The Mandalorian’ is more of a title than the character’s name, as his actual name is Din Djarin, right? Meanwhile wouldn’t Grogu’s equivalent be ‘The Child’, which is what he was officially known as before the name Grogu was revealed as the show went on? So if they were just going to name it after the characters and nothing else, wouldn’t ’The Mandalorian and The Child’ have made more sense and been more consistent? That sure sounds more interesting of a title to me at least. Obviously ‘The Mandalorian’ is used here because it’s the most recognisable title for this character, but the great irony of this situation is that Grogu is still colloquially known by most as Baby Yoda, a name I for one still call him by most of the time. Too bad Disney didn’t put that in the title, as maybe this would have attracted more attention from general audiences if they did. Anyway, it doesn’t look like this is changing any time soon as next year we’ve got the equally blandly titled ‘Star Wars: Starfighter’ to look forward to. My expectations are just as low for this one, maybe it’ll fare better as a standalone film in the franchise given that it seems to involve new characters, but with Shawn Levy of all people in the director’s seat, I somehow have even less hope that it will be anything remotely exciting as a piece of filmmaking. Unless I hear people giving it the absolute highest of praise when the time comes, I can safely say it’ll be another one I comfortably skip in cinemas and wait to drop on Disney+. Quite sad that this is where we’re at for what was once the biggest film franchise in the world and one of my main nerdy interests, I really hope it’s not long before it’s finally put on a shelf and left untouched for at least another thirty years, or better yet, for good." 4/10

 

NEW: Coyote vs. Acme (Dave Green, 2026) - reviewed 08/09/2026

    "[I] Cannot believe this almost didn’t get to be shown on the big screen, this is easily the best film of its kind since none other than Who Framed Roger Rabbit. It goes beyond relying on the basic novelty of featuring animated characters in a live action setting, and also dials down the more corporate self-reflexivity that has often let down the Looney Tunes in their cinematic outings (which reached a new low with 2021’s Space Jam: A New Legacy). Instead it has a well refined story with plenty of heart and charm, taking the characters that have always been my personal favourite part of the Looney Tunes and lovingly deconstructing them and their dynamic in a modern, real-world setting. What can also be seen here is probably the closest any film has come to replicating the practical awe of the 1988 film, constructing a compelling depiction of heightened 2D characters navigating an everyday space with lots of inventive camerawork and memorable sets / environments. From the opening sequence that enthrallingly realises a traditional Coyote / Road Runner encounter within this updated framework, it becomes instantly apparent just how truly cinematic things are here compared to how we’ve come to know these matters on the small screen. There’s plenty of delightful slapstick throughout, as well as some savvy commentary on the corruption of large corporations thrown in for good measure. All in all, a terrific time at the movies that anyone who cares about the art ought to go out and show their support to. It’s also quite funny that that this is a courtroom film set in Albuquerque and they even gave Will Forte’s lawyer character the Jimmy McGill haircut. John Cena was hilarious as ever too." 8/10

 

NEW / THROWBACK: Avengers: Endgame Encore (Anthony Russo / Joe Russo, 2019) - reviewed 27/09/2026

    "Nothing new to be said about Endgame itself; it’s still a spectacular, sincere, moving, patient, and cohesive masterpiece that remains one of my all-time favourites. It was a pleasure seeing it on the big screen again despite having seen it twice in cinemas during its original theatrical run, one of the most formative and memorable times in my entire life looking back [...] As for the additions of this particular rerelease, however, I’m a bit more apprehensive. The way Marvel has opted to actively alter the film for the sake of fitting more closely alongside their forthcoming projects is honestly a little insulting, especially since they do so by way of completely undermining some of its best aspects, namely the beautiful final moments and overarching sense of closure. It’s not anything drastic, but the broader impact is nonetheless strongly felt for the worse. If Disney proceeds to push for this revisionist take to become the definitive version of Endgame in the manner of George Lucas with the Star Wars Special Editions from now on, that is major cause for concern in my eyes. Obviously we’re yet to see exactly how things are going to pan out in line with these changes, but I firmly believe retcons of any kind should always be limited to subsequent texts rather than distorting what has already been made for their own benefit, regardless of how thoughtful they may turn out to be. Not doing so is a harmful way of approaching art, and in this case really left me feeling sour. When it comes to Avengers: Doomsday, my feelings are complicated. In an ideal world I would love to be really excited for it, and there was definitely a part of me feeling giddy while watching the thrilling trailer for it shown prior to today’s film, yet at the same time, the cynic in me is all too loud and there are far too many red flags I simply can’t look past as of now, thus preventing me from wholeheartedly getting swept up in the anticipation. If it ends up being as great as the likes of Infinity War and Endgame, that would honestly be a joy to see as I’d love this franchise to find its way again after some rough years. Conversely, if it falls on the other end of the spectrum, while that would be a shame, I am also morbidly curious to see exactly just how much of a mess it may turn out to be, so there is something to be gained either way. My fingers are crossed, but it’s looking like an uphill battle at this stage, especially after today and seeing the questionable lengths they’ve gone to in order to set the stage. There’s some serious justifying to be done when it comes to the return of a certain someone at the partial cost of what made Endgame so special." 10/10

 

NEW: Shaun the Sheep: The Beast of Mossy Bottom (Steve Cox / Matthew Walker, 2026) - reviewed 27/09/2026

    "Just when I thought I’d seen it all in 2026, we now have a Shaun the Sheep movie that looks as though it was directed by Dario Argento (in other words, cinema is alive and well). This does borrow a bit too heavily from Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit, one of the greatest animated works of all time, but the innate charm of the Aardman style and approach means it’s practically impossible to not be charmed by any of their output in spite of how derivative it may be. The comedy is firing on all cylinders here, whether it’s the front-and-centre slapstick or the blink-and-you’ll-miss background gags, it’s safe to say I chuckled a great many times throughout. As a soft horror piece in the manner of Were-Rabbit, it’s also pretty solid; ironic as my opening remark may seem, this genuinely at times has the flair and expression of a classic Giallo production if you can believe it, perhaps allowing it to serve as an entry point for younger audiences to the tone of that area and horror at large. The kids in my audience seemed to be enjoying themselves a ton, which was encouraging to say the least! While Aardman productions are always very visual in their sensibilities, the Shaun the Sheep movies are especially outstanding for their outright rejection of dialogue-driven storytelling, something I’ve only become more entranced by after developing a huge affinity for silent cinema. It’s so wonderful to see a film with so much faith in the purity and universality of the image in an age of short attention spans demanding everything be verbally spelled out to audiences. Let’s just say that seeing the trailers for the Bluey and Cocomelon movies beforehand sufficiently reminded me just how important this sort of thing is now more than ever. Obviously the tactility and detail of the stop motion animation is a delight too, I really hope Aardman backtrack on their comments regarding embracing AI as the handmade, decidedly human quality about their work is among its best features. And even if they do eventually succumb to the AI-pocalypse, the trailer for Wildwood also shown at the screening, which consisted entirely of behind-the-scenes footage showcasing the painstaking craft that went into the sets and puppets for that film, at least suggests that other companies such as Laika will stay true to their roots. Overall, a lovely time at the movies." 7/10

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