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
