It's time for another edition of Review Roundup. I've watched a fair amount of stuff this September and have written quite a few reviews, and gathering some of the best ones here has made me realise that, oddly enough, issues of adaptation seem to be a recurring theme. So, on that topic and more, here are some writings about various things I've watched and reviewed!
NEW: The Life of Chuck (Mike Flanagan, 2024) - reviewed 09/09/2025
"An exceedingly faithful adaptation of a curious short story, though slightly to a fault as there’s almost a sense of laziness about how the latter is put to the screen here. Rather than recognising the cinematic medium as a distinct form of storytelling and extracting as much potential for a unique conveyance of the given meditations on predetermination and the scope about one’s own existence, Flanagan more often than not settles for realising the bare essence of [Stephen] King’s descriptions and then letting overbearing narration that practically recites verbatim extracts of the original text do all the heavy lifting in terms of articulating the ideas at play, thereby greatly disregarding the power of the image as its own form of expression. This is a shame because there are glimpses of a ‘show don’t tell’ mentality here and there, but they never get the chance to properly thrive because they exist alongside painful barrages of perfunctory, on the nose construction elsewhere. While it remains impressive how neatly the film brings to life almost every small detail of the source material, the end result feels a tad hollow as an adaptation, doing little with the new space to make this story compelling from an alternate perspective. I still enjoyed the film and all the themes I found compelling about the original short story are all here, but I can’t say it completely takes advantage of its place as a cinematic interpretation of such." 6/10
THROWBACK: War of the Worlds (Steven Spielberg, 2005) - reviewed 11/09/2025
"The height of post-9/11 cinema. The sheer terror and anxiety that radiates through every scene, the gritty sequences of destruction from the perspective of helpless civilians unable to rationalise on what danger lies before them, be it where it came from or what they should do next. [Tom] Cruise is our lead, yet even his character is overcome with shock and fear, a memorable spin on the usual persona we associate with him that adds to the tension. Moreover, here we have an adaptation of a classic text (which I regretfully have not read yet) that recognises what timeless qualities exist about its essence and functions them into a distinct context to create something altogether more striking. Mankind may have felt helpless when faced with great threats during [H.G.] Wells’ time, rendering the thought of extraterrestrial invasion a terrifying prospect, and while one would like to think that over a hundred years later we’ve guaranteed ourselves a greater sense of security and control over what threats come our way, September 11th, 2001 would be one instance that seemed to prove otherwise. But, consider this, what happened on that day remains a completely man made act of violence, one that emerged from within our collective existence, and it created a completely new wave of paranoia and hysteria in the modern world. With that in mind, just imagine what kind of response would come of a threat from beyond our world, even for us today. What Spielberg does here is give you a feel for precisely that, and it’s nothing short of horrifying. Maybe we will always be a helpless species, no matter how far we seem to progress, and that truly is a scary thought. We all know how in 1993, Spielberg directed both Jurassic Park and Schindler’s List. One was the cosy summer blockbuster that inspired awe and wonder in all those who saw it, and the other was a bleak, unforgiving portrait of one of the most disturbing atrocities in human history. In 2005, however, while Munich saw the acclaimed director leave his audience with more harsh truths about real-world conflicts in the landscape of another slow, challenging piece, War of the Worlds is more than the accessible, escapist antidote of the same year. It doesn’t disappoint when it comes to spectacle, but the way such registers in the audience is wholly unique. There’s a desirable heroic story at its core, but one that is only achieved after the turbulent world outside of the cinema is subconsciously recognised and reaffirmed." 8/10
THROWBACK: The Great Gatsby (Jack Clayton, 1974) - reviewed 18/09/2025
"Recently seeing The Great Gatsby musical reminded me that I still needed to check this version out, and Robert Redford unexpectedly passing away earlier this week finally got me to sit down and watch it, thankfully at a time far removed from my own “younger and more vulnerable” A Level English days when the thought of anything Gatsby related made me want to bash my head against my desk. That said, I probably would’ve appreciated seeing this back at that time as it probably is the ideal adaptation. The casting and characterisation are on point, and its execution of the main narrative points and motifs are relatively sound. Furthermore, as a film, it does a decent enough job of uniquely using the cinematic apparatus to convey the same themes that Fitzgerald did through writing, namely by downplaying Nick’s internal monologue as the guiding force of critique and instead using the subjective viewpoint of the camera to get the same points across, whether that’s in letting the images of 1920s excess framed in a certain light speak for themselves, or, more incisively, signifying to the audience that here they are the spectators in Nick’s position perhaps intrusively looking in on the lives of others and unfairly passing judgement, regularly reinforced by the zooms in on the characters from a distance during their most vulnerable or intimate moments. Despite these efforts, the film can’t quite escape feeling a little… dull? I think the absence of a clear authorial stamp seems to do it a disservice, as while its wholly cinematic approach to the material sufficiently distinguishes it from Fitzgerald, the directorial voice about the film as a whole isn’t especially refined or memorable, which feels odd for a film from the 1970s, a time when auteur filmmakers were becoming more commonplace in the Hollywood scene. While I don’t really like Baz Luhrmann’s 2013 take on Gatsby, primarily for his signature maximalism inadvertently and obnoxiously aestheticising much that the original novel aims to critique, I can’t deny how Luhrmann successfully made the material his own, which I suppose is really the key to adapting timeless pieces of literature. When a text finds itself so well established within the collective consciousness, an adaptation should seek to foreground a particular artist’s own interpretation of it if they want to leave a lasting impression. This is no doubt a better adaptation than the 2013 version since it comes across as better aligned with the essence of Gatsby, but the lack of a clear and unique identity outside of its occasional creative flourishes consequently renders it a lot more forgettable." 6/10
CATCH-UP: Elio (Domee Shi / Madeline Sharafian / Adrian Molina, 2025) - reviewed 21/09/2025
"Since Cars came out in 2006, I’ve seen every theatrically released Pixar film at the cinema. However, that streak ended with Elio earlier this year. In line with what the esteemed ‘animation is cinema’ crowd would suggest, is this because I don’t want to see original animated films? No, of course not. I’ve gone out to see plenty of original animated films at the cinema this last year, be it Memoir of a Snail, Savages, or the Oscar-winning Flow, all of which peeked my interest for their striking visual styles, intriguing tones, and distinct voices. On the other hand, Elio just looked to me like the most tame and predictable kiddy schlock, with superficially impressive visuals but a dull sounding narrative and a cringe inducing sense of humour. So, even as a Pixar completionist, I simply could not justify going out of my way to see it, especially now that we’ve been conditioned to expect new Disney releases to be readily available on our home screens not long after their theatrical debuts anyway. If you’re one of the people who thinks my decision here lessens my credibility as an animation enthusiast (or something else of the sort), I encourage you to try looking at the state of our beloved medium at large, particularly outside of the cosy, family-friendly Western scene. So what if Elio failed commercially and Pixar’s upcoming slate consists of mostly pointless sequels? There will always be original stories being made by smaller studios and less prolific filmmakers (whose interests lie outside of making as much money as possible) out there for you to enjoy, much like the one that literally won the latest Academy Award for Best Animated Feature, what matters is whether you are curious enough to look for them beyond your usual comfort zone. If the extent of the animation world for you ends at the likes of Disney / Pixar / DreamWorks / etc, that’s entirely your own fault. All that being said, this is the perfect example to get my point across because my suspicions were proven completely correct. Elio is not a terrible film, it just isn’t a particularly good one. The narrative has all the usual Western animation cliches, whether it's the generic quirky outsider protagonist, dead loved ones being a large part of what shapes their personality, fish out of water scenarios involving them to create comedy, and a series of misunderstandings and ‘liar revealed’ situations for them to navigate. It’s about as ‘been there, done that’ as you can get for this sort of film, and even the particular science fiction context at hand had trouble standing out. I liked the overarching sentiment about finding a sense of belonging in the universe, but the emotional catharses and reconciliations that come as a result similarly aren’t able to escape that same feeling of familiarly. It has its heart in the right place, but that’s not enough to make it especially compelling. When it comes to the animation, it’s not that it’s bad in any way, but despite the immense talent on display, it’s remarkably quite bland. While Pixar absolutely built a reputation for telling great stories during their golden years, what also undeniably secured their status as one of the best in the industry was the fact that they significantly pioneered the use of CGI and all the detail that comes with it. After all these years, it’s clear they continue to rely on this as a main selling point of their visual construction, but the fact of the matter is that I don’t think anyone is really that impressed by realistic water physics or meticulously detailed surfaces anymore, even though such obviously takes a great deal of work to achieve. Even I, someone who almost always fixates on tiny background elements when watching any animated piece, have become rather desensitised to the care and attention that goes into a modern Pixar production given how ubiquitous their sort of thing is nowadays. What I think we’re all keen to see more of at this point are distinct styles in animated aesthetics; take Flow as an example, there’s something so magical about the look and feel of that film, as its adherence to grounded physics and behaviours combined with a simplistic, heightened design about its characters and landscapes amounts to a bold and striking atmosphere that perfectly complements its philosophical aspirations. I don’t want to act as though the work behind Elio’s animation was technically perfunctory or that the end result is visually unappealing, but I do feel like the whole Pixar brand of animation has sadly lost a lot of its charm and novelty by now and no longer feels ambitious. As I said, this isn’t a bad film. It was adequate viewing for ninety minutes and there were plenty of moments that made me chuckle or put a smile on my face (that Alien reference in particular was really cute and clever), but it’s more proof that mainstream Hollywood is not the place to look for exciting animated endeavours at this current moment. On that note, I’ve been meaning to watch the increasingly popular KPop Demon Hunters ever since it started blowing up on social media, and while I have more hope in that than I had in Elio given that it seems more stylistically inventive, there’s a reason I’ve not got around to watching it just yet, because I more or less know what I’m going to get out of it, likely just a solid, briskly enjoyable time. That may sound dismissive of me, but I’ve been underwhelmed by similar films enough times by now to know I’m probably better off lowering my enthusiasm. Thankfully, films like these two are not the be all and end all when it comes to modern animation, so here’s to more unexpected animated outings that pop out from the unlikeliest of places and leave a far greater impression!" 6/10
THROWBACK: Lady Windermere's Fan (Ernst Lubitsch, 1925) - reviewed 24/09/2025
"It took some time for this to click with me, but when it did, it revealed itself as yet another significant stepping stone in the career of Ernst Lubitsch. Previously, The Marriage Circle saw him rein in his usual over the top expressive tendencies, instead locating the traditional Lubitsch absurdities in the context of a more grounded story; he loves his complicated romantic relations and almost always derives a lot of delightful chaos from the ways in which they interact, but there was a film that constructed more everyday scenarios in which such could be observed and was thus more nuanced in its formalism and performances. Lady Windermere’s Fan, adapted from an Oscar Wilde play of the same name, is a very logical next step, as it continues on a similar trajectory of visual expression, but accounts for the key thing that The Marriage Circle lacked, that being a strong emotional core. Narratively, this is achieved through the subversive focus on a forbidden mother / daughter relationship instead of being purely about romance. It’s engaging to watch as the older Mrs. Erlynne navigates a harsh social order to connect with her completely unknowing child, the titular Lady Windermere, who has achieved a much more privileged status through her marriage. It then becomes even more compelling as the entry into her daughter’s life prompts a series of unfortunate but ultimately logical misunderstandings and complications, testing the boundaries of the relationships at hand and eventually requiring great sacrifices for mutual wellbeing. As with any Lubitsch film, there are plenty of funny moments, namely in his visual representations of the gossip among the upper class individuals, but what was especially striking here was just how effectively he made the more dramatic side of the film work. There’s a particular moment near the end during a pivotal climactic scene where the simple actions of several characters slowly unfolding was a perfect mixture of satisfying and chilling, you’ll most likely know it if you’ve seen it. This is most curious because, in the case of Lubitsch’s Anna Boleyn, the more dramatic tone was a key part of what weakened the film for me, the director feeling restricted at the helm since he’d mostly done comedic efforts up to that point and thus didn’t feel best suited to the more serious material. But, as this film arrives at an aforementioned point in Lubitsch’s career where he has developed a more subdued approach to visual storytelling, it works really well. You feel that signature absurdity is in there, but rather than striving for pure irreverence, it emphasises all that is a lot more emotionally profound." 8/10
