Review #1,471: 'The Sisters Brothers' (2018)

French filmmaker Jacques Audiard has made a name for himself by focusing on morally-conflicted lead characters surviving any way they can in an environment they have no real control over. Whether it be the brutal prison setting of A Prophet, the street brawls of Rust and Bone, or the Sri Lanka torn apart by civil war in Dheepan, Audiard seems most at home when tossing his lead character in the deep end and observing as the survival instincts inevitably kick in. There is perhaps no greater time and place to explore humanity at its most savage and uncivilised as the Wild West, so Audiard feels right at home among the shootouts, saloon fights and general lawlessness of his latest film, the curiously-titled The Sisters Brothers.

Based on the novel by Patrick deWitt, The Sisters Brothers follows the titular siblings Eli (John C. Reilly) and Charlie (Joaquin Phoenix), two apparent opposites who seem to tolerate each other for their shared bloodline only. While their overall outlook on life couldn't be further apart, one skill the pair undoubtedly share is a knack for killing, and their exploits have granted them an almost mythical status throughout the land. They are hired killers in the employment of a shady businessman known only as the Commodore (Rutger Hauer), and their latest job is to track down and kill chemist Hermann Kermit Warm (Riz Ahmed), who has supposedly stolen from the old man. Their journey takes them from Jacksonville to San Francisco, but the mission is plagued by misfortune. Encountering everything from bear attacks to venomous spiders to rival hired hands, these mishaps allow plenty of time for the brothers to reflect on their life choices and their future, if they are ever to make it out alive.

As the elder of the brothers, Reilly's Eli hopes to eventually settle down and walk away from a life where death seems to await them at every turn. The drunken, unpredictable Charlie believes their lives couldn't get any better, and cannot imagine a world where his brother is not at his side. Little by little their backstories are revealed, and although he shares his younger sibling's flair for murder, it becomes clear that Eli's life would have turned out quite differently if he wasn't forced to pick up the pieces left in the wake of Charlie's destructive nature. The two actors are so good together that the film slows down when the action moves away from them, and more time is spent developing the relationship between Warm and softly-spoken private detective John Morris (Jake Gyllenhaal). Morris is actually working with the Sisters, but has a change of heart when Warm reveals his water-based formula that will potentially turn the tide for gold prospecting.

While these little detours slightly derail the film's pace, they prove intriguing enough in their own right. Despite the brutality of their surroundings and the natural hostility of the unexplored frontier, Warm and Morris are tidier, more articulate, and completely at odds with the survivalist nature of the anti-heroes of the title. They hint at a changing world, and the way the Old West is imagined by cinematographer Benoit Debie - shot in Spain - would be more at home with the auteur-driven revisionist westerns of the 1970s, but not so different to cause traditionalists to scoff. The key ingredients are all there: bursts of violence, whiskey-drenched brothel visits, and a long, perilous journey across country; but there is a sensitive, character-driven drama at its core. It was billed as a comedy of sorts upon its release, and although there are certainly laugh-out-loud moments, they serve only to reinforce the humanity lurking within its murky characters.


Directed by: Jacques Audiard
Starring: John C. Reilly, Joaquin Phoenix, Jake Gyllenhaal, Riz Ahmed, Rebecca Root, Rutger Hauer
Country: France/Spain/Romania/Belgium/USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,466: 'Mary Poppins Returns' (2018)

With many studios these days greenlighting reboots, spin-offs and remakes, it's actually quite refreshing to get a good old-fashioned sequel to a beloved classic. It worked for Blade Runner, and - somewhat surprisingly - it also works for Mary Poppins. A sequel to Robert Stevenson's 1964 family classic has been stuck in development hell for decades, with original author P. L. Travers proving notoriously difficult to work with. She despised what Walt Disney had done to her work, although she admired certain aspects, so while she was still alive, a follow-up would only see the light of the day on her own very strict terms. We almost saw the return of the nanny who is practically perfect in every way in the 1980s, with a screenplay by Travers and her friend Brian Sibley, but Julie Andrews' reluctance to return meant the film quickly fell apart. Some 55 years later, Poppins finally returns in the form of Emily Blunt, and there is plenty to enjoy for both adults who adored the original growing up and children new to this unique world.

It's 1930, and siblings Michael (Ben Whishaw) and Jane Banks (Emily Mortimer) are all grown up. They remember the nanny who raised them but believe the magic she displayed was all part of their youthful imaginations. Michael is now a widowed banker and takes after his father, while Jane mirrors her mother in that she is ever the optimist. Still living at Cherry Tree Lane and forced to raise his three children - Annabel (Pixie Davies), John (Nathanael Saleh) and Georgie (Joel Dawson) - on his own, things aren't going well for Michael. With grief consuming him, the bills have gone unpaid, and the bank, headed by new chairman William Wilkins (Colin Firth), have served a notice threatening to repossess the house if the loan isn't paid back in full. Spirits are lifted by the re-appearance of Mary Poppins, who offers to look after the children while the adults get their affairs in order. With the help of cheery Cockney lamplighter Jack (Lin-Manuel Miranda), Annabel, John and Georgie are whisked off into a world of musical numbers and talking cartoon animals, and learn that when you think you've reached the bottom, the only way is up.

There's not much going on in terms of plot in Mary Poppins Returns, but things weren't much different last time around. Director Rob Marshall and writer David Magee are far more concerned with pulling you into a fantastical world of catchy songs, breathtaking dance numbers, and lovingly rendered hand-drawn animation. Tunes like 'Tip a Little Light Fantastic' and '(Underneath the) London Sky' are clearly trying to copy iconic moments from the original (with Miranda playing the Dick Van Dyke supporting role), but composer Marc Shaiman and lyricist Scott Wittman have found a way to wonderfully capture the essence of the original while adding a modern twist. Blunt, who seems to be fan-cast for just about every upcoming role, proves to be the perfect choice for Poppins. Stern but playful, strict yet mischievous, she embraces Andrews' iconic performance and adds much sparkle of her own, displaying a knack for comedy timing that went unjustly unrecognised by the Academy. She wouldn't be complete without an enthusiastic sidekick, and Miranda is on great form, speaking with an accent that fares only slightly better than Van Dyke's, but that was all part of what made the original so memorable. Mary Poppins Returns isn't quite practically perfect in every way, but as far as sequels to childhood staples go, it rarely fails to charm or tug the heartstrings.


Directed by: Rob Marshall
Starring: Emily Blunt, Lin-Manuel Miranda, Ben Whishaw, Emily Mortimer, Pixie Davies, Nathanael Saleh, Joel Dawson, Julie Walters, Meryl Streep, Colin Firth
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,465: 'Bumblebee' (2018)

By the time Transformers: The Last Knight rolled around in 2017, even the most hardcore fans of Michael Bay's Transformers franchise were getting tired of it all. The Last Knight, which was the fifth entry into the series, marked ten years of Bay's butt-numbing, explosion-heavy epics, which substituted the charm of the original 80's television show and toy line for faceless CGI constructs bashing each other to pieces, lame comedy, and an increasingly creepy attitude towards its female actors. Bay teased his departure from the franchise after three movies, but went on to make another two, and it's always been clear that the problem lay with the director's inability to engage the audience on an emotional level and refusal to deliver anything but headache-inducing action and softcore pornography. Eyebrows were raised when Paramount announced that one of its few memorable characters, Bumblebee, would receive his own spin-off. Yet they were significantly relaxed when they learned that Travis Knight, director of the acclaimed Kubo and the Two Strings, would helm the project, and not Bay.

Opening with a battle between the Autobots and Decepticons on their home planet of Cybertron, it's immediately apparent that all this universe required was a fresh pair of eyes. Yes, this sequence isn't much more than a computer-generated smackdown between huge alien robots, but at least we can tell them apart. The Autobot leader Optimus Prime (voiced as ever by Peter Cullen) is leading a resistance against their oppressive foes, but seeing his side are losing badly, Prime sends scout B-127 (Dylan O'Brien) to Earth to set up base for their eventual rendezvous. Crashing down in 1987 California, the diminutive Autobot immediately encounters a unit of government soldiers, led by Agent Jack Burns (John Cena), on a routine training exercise, and is met with open hostility. Left grievously wounded after an attack by Decepticon Blitzwing (David Sobolov), B-127 transforms into a Volkswagen Beetle to lay low while awaiting rescue. Meanwhile, teenager and amateur mechanic Charlie Watson (Hailee Steinfeld), still grieving after the death of her father years ago, finds the rusty banger and decides to repair it as a pet project, hoping to impress junkyard owner Hank (Len Cariou) in the process. But when that final piece slips into place, Charlie finds way more in the piece of junk she names Bumblebee than she was expecting.

While Bay quickly forgot about the fans who loved the cartoons, toys and comic books growing up, Knight eagerly embraces them. Rewinding the timeline back to the 1980s, Knight mixes the inevitable action set-pieces with heartfelt drama, which stems not only from Charlie's relationship with the clumsy yet adorable yellow lunk, but also from her grief and anger that her mother has already moved on. As Bumblebee stumbles around the house trying his best not to break anything, you can't help but think of E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial. His prat-falls are made funnier because you have grown to love the character, and by evoking such an established 80's classic, Bumblebee engulfs you further in its pure nostalgia trip. Most importantly, there's a sense of fun and playfulness that was lost in the crotch-grabbing and flag-waving of Bay's cinematic haemorrhoids. Charlie and Bumblebee's bonding sessions are sweet and charming, and Steinfeld's performance is undoubtedly key to this. An endearing mix of awkward teenager and highly capable mechanic, Charlie wears vests and listens to The Smiths, and where Bay may have had her in hot pants leaning over a car, Charlie would much prefer to be underneath it. Her character helps paint an even clearer line between this semi-reboot and Bay's parasitic universe, and finally, I'm excited from the next Transformers film again.


Directed by: Travis Knight
Starring: Hailee Steinfeld, Jorge Lendeborg Jr., John Cena, John Ortiz, Jason Drucker, Dylan O'Brien, Angela Bassett, Justin Theroux, Peter Cullen
Country: USA/China

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,464: 'Vice' (2018)

After spending most of his career larking around with Will Ferrell in the likes of Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby, Step Brothers and The Other Guys, writer/director Adam McKay took a huge leap towards 'serious' film-making in 2015 when he released The Big Short, a funny, intelligent and unexpectedly engrossing account of the 2007-2008 financial crisis. The Big Short may not sound like much fun on paper, but McKay latched onto this idea, making the tedious subject of subprime loans and triple-A ratings interesting by entwining it with pop culture, employing the likes of Margot Robbie and Selena Gomez to dumb it down for the audience in a manner that was too wickedly clever to ever be patronising. With Academy recognition now under his belt, McKay strides into his next project - a biopic of one of the most fearsome yet enigmatic political figures in U.S. history - with confidence, and dare I say it, a touch of arrogance.

McKay is eager to perform the same trick again with Vice, a sporadically inspired but frustratingly blunt quasi-biography that feels to penetrate the skin of its subject or answer the big question of just what was the driving force behind the man who turned the symbolic position of Vice President into one of great power and influence. Rather than dig deeper, McKay prefers to allow Dick Cheney's actions to speak for themselves, occasionally cutting away to a visual metaphor, such as, in the case of Cheney's key meeting with Sam Rockwell's George W. Bush, a cheetah bringing down its prey. Cheney is a man McKay clearly views as a highly functioning psychopath, tracking his journey from working under Steve Carell's Donald Rumsfeld in the Nixon Administration, to his opportunistic lunge for control in the immediate aftermath of the 9/11 attacks. He fought to grant more power to a President he easily manipulated, praying on his short attention span and lack of political know-how, and to legalise torture, finding a massive legal loophole in the shape of Guantanamo Bay.

Vice is structured like a classic coming-of-age movie, with its 'hero' rising and falling, before dusting himself off and getting to his feet to rise again. After President Ford (Bill Camp) is voted out of office, seemingly closing all political doors for Cheney, McKay rolls the credits and pans away from the Cheney household, before an abrupt phone call reminds us that this story has barely begun. Like many of the jokes in Vice, the credit-roll-fake-out is funnier in theory than execution, and the film often takes the trickery so far that it threatens to undermine the seriousness of the subject matter. Satire must be funny, but it must also carry an emotional wallop that McKay struggles to find. At the centre of it all is Christian Bale's powerhouse performance, which explores a man whose obsessiveness could be compared to that of the actor's own extreme approach to his craft. Once again Bale takes his own body to the limit, piling on the pounds to resemble a man who suffered multiple heart attacks throughout his life (it becomes a running gag in the film), and adopting a deep growl capable of subtle intimidation. The performances of Bale, Carrel and Rockwell are all worth the entry fee alone, but Vice stutters to engage on a deeper level, failing to explain just how an oil company CEO can seize control of one of the most powerful countries in the world, and execute his plans with such cold indifference.


Directed by: Adam McKay
Starring: Christian Bale, Amy Adams, Steve Carell, Sam Rockwell, Alison Pill, Eddie Marsan, Justin Kirk, Jesse Plemons, Bill Camp, Tyler Perry
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,463: 'Roma' (2018)

You wouldn't know it, but director Alfonso Cuaron has being paying homage to one of the women that helped raise him as a child throughout his career. This woman, Liboria Rodriguez, is clearly close to the filmmaker's heart, and he cast her in cameos in a few of his films, including 2001's Y Tu Mama Tambien. Now, Rodriguez is the topic of her very own film, Roma, Cuaron's ode to the network of women that were key to his upbringing in 1970s Mexico. Of late, Cuaron has mainly focused on big-budget movies for Hollywood, such as last year's Gravity, the riveting thriller Children of Men, and the best Harry Potter film of the series, The Prisoner of Azkaban, but he has dialled things way down for his latest. Roma is about as small-scale as you can get, focusing on a humble maid working for a middle-class family in Mexico City, but complete with the director's trademark dizzying camerawork and gorgeous cinematography.

In a debut appearance, Yalitza Aparicio plays Cleo, a maid working in an affluent household in the Colonia Roma neighbourhood in Mexico City. The four children are incredibly affectionate towards her, scrambling for a cuddle when they sit down to watch television, and parents Sofia (Marina de Tavira) and Antonio (Fernando Grediaga) clearly rely on her as they get on with their busy lifestyles. But there are cracks starting to appear in the marriage. Antonio squeezes his bulky, show-off car into the narrow garage every night, hinting at the father's growing dismay with his surroundings, and he quickly grows frustrated when Cleo fails to clean up the dog shit littering the patio. However, as happy and content as she may appear on the surface, Cleo has to deal with her own problems when she falls pregnant to a martial-arts obsessed military type who is nowhere to be found. With her employers' marriage falling apart and a baby on the way, Cleo struggles to juggle attempting to hold the family together for the sake of the children, and the idea of starting life as a single mother.

Trying to summarise the plot of Roma is no easy task. This is a slice of life plucked from Cuaron's own memories, shot in luscious black-and-white that almost feels like remembering the past through an old photograph. Roma is about class, politics and poverty, but mainly it wishes to tell a story of an unseen hero whose stories are rarely told. It's a film of moments that leave a mark despite how inconsequential they appear, very similar to the neo-Realist films of Satyajit Ray and Robert Rossellini, somehow telling a story that feels vast and epic in scale while keeping the focus on an incredibly personal level. Cuaron is a true craftsman, and, with regular collaborator Emmanuel Lubezki unavailable, actually steps up to the role of cinematographer. This compromise actually worked out in the film's favour, as you couldn't imagine anyone else recreating a time and place from one's childhood with such detail and intimacy. Liboria Rodriguez is clearly a huge inspiration in Cuaron's life, and here the director steps aside to shine the spotlight on her and many other that disappear into the crowd. It was a surprise to learn that Roma would be distributed through Netflix, but after seeing the film, it's hard to believe that any studios would take a gamble on what is essentially a collection of memories played out on screen. But what beautiful memories they are.


Directed by: Alfonso Cuarón
Starring: Yalitza Aparicio, Marina de Tavira, Diego Cortina Autrey, Carlos Peralta, Marco Graf, Daniela Demesa, Nancy García García
Country: Mexico/USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,458: 'Aquaman' (2018)

After a cameo in Zack Snyder's 2016 car crash Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice and a team-up appearance in 2017's equally disastrous Justice League, the time feels right for one of comic-book lore's goofiest superheroes, Aquaman, to receive his own standalone origin story. After all, Jason Momoa's hulking, tattooed fish-whisperer was one of the surprising standouts of DC's flop team-up event, and with the campy orange-and-green costume replaced by a long-hared and shirtless Kiwi Adonis, the character can now be played straight-faced. Wonder Woman proved that DC could produce quality with the right director pulling the strings, and they pulled off a coup with James Wan, a filmmaker whose talents I have long admired despite many of his films missing the mark for me. So it pains me to say that Aquaman is yet another tonally uneven and bloated effort from Warner Bros. that never quite knows if it wants to make you laugh or feel, with a marathon running time which, by the time is gets round to its umpteenth climax, is about as welcome as a fart in a wetsuit.

In 1985, lighthouse keeper Tom Curry (Temuera Morrison) comes across a beautiful woman washed up on the shores of Maine. The woman is Atlanna (Nicole Kidman), a princess from the underwater nation of Atlantis who has escaped an arranged marriage and a gang of Atalantian stormtroopers. Tom takes her in and the two naturally fall in love, resulting in the birth of the half-Atlantian, half-human Arthur. When her enemies come calling, Atlanna must return to the ocean, leaving Tom to bring up young Arthur on his own. The baby grows up to be the beer-swilling gym-devotee we saw in Justice League, but there is trouble a-brewin' down in the depths. Arthur's half-brother Orm (Patrick Wilson) wants to unite the kingdoms of Atlantis and wage war on the surface, who have been polluting their home for decades. But Orm knows that he will never be accepted as the true leader while Arthur, who has no desire to take the throne, is still alive. Mera (Amber Heard), the daughter of King Nereus (Dolph Lundgren), comes to warn Arthur, but they don't stand a chance against the might of Atlantis without the Trident of Atlan, a magical weapon buried somewhere in the Sahara desert.

Aquaman certainly isn't short of ideas; the problem is that Wan doesn't quite know how to cram them all in. We are taken across continents on land and to multiple kingdoms under the water. With a desire to capture the adventurous magic of Romancing the Stone and Indiana Jones, the film actually trips over its own ambition, squeezing in side characters such as Atlantean Mr. Miyagi Vulko (Willem Dafoe) and the fearsome pirate Black Manta (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II), as well as a variety of underwater races we are expected to remember and littering the story with clunky CGI smackdowns. Wan crafts a colourful, vivid world, full of giant sea-horses and advanced technology, but it shares more in common with the weightless. computer-generated locations of The Phantom Menace than the tangible flamboyance of Black Panther's Wakanda. Yet all of this could be considered a mere niggle had the leads been up to the task, but Momoa and Heard have all the chemistry of two strangers making awkward small-talk in a lift. Momoa is an impressive specimen and possesses the charisma to bring this character to life (see Justice League), but here he is denied a moment to have that quiet moment of reflection or to reveal the flaws to his character that would help make him interesting. A wheezing, confused and sickly bore.


Directed by: James Wan
Starring: Jason Momoa, Amber Heard, Willem Dafoe, Patrick Wilson, Nicole Kidman, Dolph Lundgren, Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, Temuera Morrison
Country: Australia/USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,457: 'Creed II' (2018)

One of the many surprise pleasures of Ryan Coogler's Creed was not only its ability to find much life in what was a tired, decades-sprawling franchise, but the way it managed to add emotional weight to the events of Rocky IV, a crowd-pleasing fan-favourite that remains the cheesiest and most ridiculous entry into the series to date. While the death of Carl Weathers' Apollo Creed was shocking and unexpected, it was followed by an air-punching victory for the Italian Stallion underdog during which he also won the Cold War for the U.S., all backed to the most 80s of soundtracks. By following the early career of one of Apollo's bastard children Adonis (Michael B. Jordan), Creed added an unexpected gravity to the consequences of the former's reckless lifestyle, mixing family tragedy into what was otherwise a traditional sports movie.

With Adonis now having dealt with his personal demons over his father's neglect and untimely death, Steven Caple Jr.'s follow-up Creed II faces its own battle in keeping the young fighter's story interesting, as well as delivering an exciting boxing movie without bowing down to cliches. Having lost the fight but won the night at the climax of the previous film, Adonis has gone on to win the Heavyweight Championship and achieve global stardom with trusted old dog Rocky Balboa (Sylvester Stallone) at his side. He proposes to his girlfriend Bianca (Tessa Thompson), who is concerned that her own hearing loss may be passed down to their unborn child, and with few fighters talented enough to pose Adonis a real threat, he agonises over building a legacy worthy of his father and trainer. Ripples start to appear in his close relationships and personal drive, which only work against him when a figure from Rocky's past re-emerges with a challenge that could not only lose Creed the title, but end his career entirely.

That man is Ivan Drago (Dolph Lundgren), who over the years has worked tirelessly to mould his son Viktor (Florian Munteanu) into one of the most most formidable bruisers on the planet. The film begins with them exiled in Ukraine after the embarrassment of Ivan's defeat in Rocky IV, and their relationship is actually the film's most interesting aspect. Ivan hopes that by making his son the world champion his country will welcome him back, but their bond is fractured and strained as a result. It's a thread that should have been explored in more depth, since it's infinitely more interesting than Adonis awkwardly practising his proposal speech. But the melodrama is backed up with a lot of heart, and Stallone's Balboa is again the thread that ties it all together. Dealing with his own family issues on top of dreading the thought of watching another Creed die in his prime at the hands of a Drago, Stallone is magnificent, capable of delivering chills as his voice is heard for the first time off-camera. It's a step down from the electricity of Creed, but it was always going to be. For what is essentially a remake of Rocky IV, the fact that Creed II manages to be emotional, exciting and joyous despite embracing genre cliches is a monumental achievement in itself.


Directed by: Steven Caple Jr.
Starring: Michael B. Jordan, Sylvester Stallone, Tessa Thompson, Phylicia Rashad, Dolph Lundgren, Florian Munteanu, Russell Hornsby, Wood Harris
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,456: 'Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse' (2018)

When Sony announced a year or so ago that they were planning an animated take on the Spider-Man character, the question was asked by even the most hardcore of fans of whether yet another incarnation of everybody's favourite web-crawler can really be justified. After all, in the last 17 years alone, there's been Sam Raimi's popular trilogy starring Tobey Maguire, Marc Webb's ill-fated reboot in 2012, and most recently Tom Holland has donned the mask for the hero's introduction into the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse doesn't only introduce a new Spidey in the form of Miles Morales, but also includes two versions of Peter Parker, as well as four other versions of the world's most popular superhero. The fact that the film isn't a cluster-fuck is a miracle in itself. The fact that this is the best Spider-Man movie ever made is something else entirely.

Miles Morales (Shameik Moore) is an average teenager who, like the majority of kids his age, look up to and admire their friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man (Chris Pine). When he isn't in school, Miles divides his time between his over-protective police officer father (Brian Tyree Henry) and his cooler, scrappier Uncle Aaron (Mahershala Ali). The latter encourages his nephew's passion for graffiti art, and as Miles works on his new project in an abandoned subway station, he is bitten by a radioactive spider. He starts to stick to his classmates and hear a voice-over in his head (one of the film's many clever ways of bringing the comic-book page to life), but he is faced with his biggest dilemma when he accidentally stumbles upon Spider-Man battling the Kingpin (Liev Schreiber), who is working on a particle accelerator with the ability to access parallel dimensions. The fight ends in disaster, with the machine opening up wormholes long enough to bring a host of parallel Spider-People into their world.

With Kingpin threatening to reactivate the device and destroy the city, Miles carries the fate of his friends and family with him, but he is not alone. Helping the youngster master his new abilities are the overweight Peter B. Parker (Jake Johnson), Spider-Woman aka Gwen Stacy (Hailee Steinfeld), the black-and-white Spider-Man Noir (Nicolas Cage), wise-cracking cartoon Spider-Ham (John Mulaney), and SP//dr, a spider-controlled robot who shares a telepathic link with a young Japanese girl (Kimiko Glenn). Such a large collection of characters who each share similar yet personal origins could have been an overload, but directors Bob Persichetti, Peter Ramsey and Rodney Rothman - working from a script by Rothman and Phil Lord - wisely keep the focus on Miles, with the rest serving as the new Spider-Man's mentor in their own unique way. Rather than steal the attention away from Miles, the gang actually get to the root of what makes Spider-Man such a compelling hero. They may all be plagued by tragedy and loss, but they will prevail in their battle against evil with fearless determination and good humour. Spider-Verse understands the character better than Sam Raimi, Marc Webb and Jon Watts ever could, as good as some of the previous films have been.

This new host of Spider-People also provide some of the film's funniest moments, whether it be overly-serious brooding of Cage's Noir or the madcap anime weirdness of SP//dr. It's ever funnier than Homecoming, a film which embraced the comedic side of the hero, and isn't afraid to take hilarious digs at the failures of its predecessors (we all remember the Spider-Man 3 emo-dance and face-jiggle). Most impressive of all is Spider-Verse's groundbreaking animation, which combines various styles and techniques to create a truly stimulating experience that could be paused at any moment and admired as a stunning piece of art. The sight of Spider-Man gliding through the city skyline back in 2002 will forever remain iconic, but Miles' first leap from the edge of a building will inspire a whole new generation of fans with its vertigo-inducing imagery and dazzling neon colours. Of course, this would all be decoration if the characters and story didn't captivate, but Spider-Verse achieves this in abundance. Miles is a great hero to root for: confidant enough to justify his new power set, yet bumbling enough to be relatable to any teenagers watching. Fantastic all-round, and fully deserving of its recent Oscar win for Best Animated Feature.


Directed by: Bob Persichetti, Peter Ramsey, Rodney Rothman
Voices: Shameik Moore, Jake Johnson, Hailee Steinfeld, Mahershala Ali, Brian Tyree Henry, Lily Tomlin, John Mulaney
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,454: 'Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald' (2018)

Aside from Peter Jackson's epic Lord of the Rings trilogy (the less said about his more recent adaptation of The Hobbit, the better), no cinematic journey into the realms of the fantastical has captured the imagination of audiences in recent years quite as much as J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter, a cash-making juggernaut for both Warner Bros. and the author herself. When the franchise came to a conclusion in 2011, it was never going to be away from our screens for very long, and the 'Wizarding World' universe was expanded in 2016 with the surprisingly charming Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Like Harry Potter, Beasts managed to find a nice balance between wand-swishing set-pieces, enduring us to a new set of compelling characters, and building a tangible new world for it all to take place in. And with Eddie Redmayne's Newt Scamander - a shy and awkward David Attenborough type - at the centre of it all, the pieces were in place for an engrossing - and different - saga to get out teeth into.

The delicate balance found by Rowling and director David Yates the first time around is sadly nowhere to be found in this follow-up, The Crimes of Grindelwald. This is part two of a five-part story, so introductions are brushed aside in favour of plot, plot and some more plot. The first hour is taken up by bringing this new group of characters back into the fold, finding Newt grounded by the Ministry of Magic following his shenanigans last time around, just as a new threat rears its ugly face in the form of Johnny Depp's muggle-hating Grindelwald. The bad wizard is searching for the troubled Credence (Ezra Miller), who has emerged in Paris with a circus performer called Nagini (Clauia Kim), but Auror Tina Goldstein (Katherine Waterston) is already on the case. It seems as though everybody is searching for Credence. Even the young Albus Dumbledore (Jude Law), who is mysteriously reluctant to face his old friend-gone-bad himself, tries to convince Newt to go to Paris in his stead. Muggle Kowalski (Dan Fogler) is also back with his memory mainly in tact, as is his girlfriend Queenie (Alison Sudol), who is struggling to deal with a Ministry ban on Wizard-Muggle relationships.

The Crimes of Grindelwald throws everything it can into the mix: a rain-soaked battle in the air, Newt caught up in no less than three romantic entanglements, a detour to Hogwarts, and more name-drops and Easter eggs than you can shake a stick at. It's an unfathomable wall of information, punctured by an occasional set-piece that only truly come to life when the titular (and frustratingly sidelined) beasts are involved. The Harry Potter films dodged this bullet by allowing the audience to grow into this world, and often grow up with the characters, but Fantastic Beasts goes all out without really justifying its flagrant disregard for coherency, or earning the right to take such an approach. Although he is often pushed out of the spotlight by the many side-plots occurring, Redmayne just about holds it all together with another endearingly twitchy performance, and Law, who combines some of Michael Gambon mannerisms with a more youthful swagger, proves to be a shrewd bit of casting. Ultimately, this follow-up is too busy moving the chess pieces into place to focus on character, and many are pushed into the background as a result. There are great revelations, but after two hours of trying to keep up with who's who and what's what, they don't have much impact. It isn't enough to derail the series completely, but I'll have a hard time remembering where the hell we are by the time the third entry rolls around.


Directed by: David Yates
Starring: Eddie Redmayne, Katherine Waterston, Dan Fogler, Alison Sudol, Johnny Depp, Ezra Miller, Zoë Kravitz, Jude Law, Callum Turner, Claudia Kim
Country: UK/USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,453: 'Ralph Breaks the Internet' (2018)

While 2012's Wreck-It Ralph is far from Pixar's most accomplished achievement, it was a fun tale of friendship and nostalgia as our two lovable heroes romped their way through a variety of games, both modern and retro. Despite the appeal of its characters, the ending hardly cried out for a sequel, but the world created by Rich Moore and his team of animators offered endless possibilities with which the story could be taken. With demand for 80's and 90's nostalgia at an all-time high, you have to wonder why a sequel took a whole six years to arrive. While one of the main appeals of Wreck-It Ralph was seeing a bunch of familiar characters from your childhood weaved into the story and placed into everyday situations, this follow-up takes Ralph and best pal Vanellope out of their pixelated comfort-zone and into a brave new world of pop-up ads and nightmarish comment sections.

Six years have also passed for arcade-game villain Ralph (John C. Reilly) and glitchy Sugar Rush racer Vanellope (Sarah Silverman), who both enjoy a routine-based life of doing their video game duty by day and knocking back root beers together at night. But while Ralph finds comfort in familiarity, Vanellope longs for something different. In an attempt to cheer up his best friend, Ralph creates a special new track in Sugar Rush, but the stunt backfires when the steering-wheel breaks in the real world and Vanellope is left without a game. However, the shiny new arrival at Litwak's Family Fun Centre and Arcade - the internet - may offer a glimmer of hope in the form of eBay, where one user has a replacement steering-wheel up for auction. So, the two friends venture into this digital metropolis of corporate logos and dead-eyed avatars to buy the part, only they don't have any money to back up their winning bid.

Of course, there's always money to be made on the internet if you know how, and with the help of Yesss (Taraji P. Henson), the algorithm at video site BuzzzTube, Ralph racks up the likes and hearts by becoming a viral sensation. Vanellope's friendship with Ralph is tested when she discovers dangerous open-world racing game Slaughter Race and finds a like-minded friend in bad-ass racer Shank (Gal Gadot). There's a message about the dangers of toxic friendships in there somewhere, but the sweet relationship developed more carefully the first time around is often drowned out by the sheer noise of this online world. There are many great ideas here, such as Alan Tudyk's KnowsMore, an search engine who is always over-eager to predict what you're going to say, and Bill Hader's J.P. Spamley, a click-bait pop-up ad who acts like a desperate, down-on-his-luck salesman. A detour into a Disney fan-site initially reeks of self-promotion, but the company sends itself up rather well, conjuring up an inspired moment involving the entire roster of Disney princesses. Ralph Breaks the Internet is fun and packed with creativity, but struggles to find its heart amidst all the eye-catching chaos.


Directed by: Phil Johnston, Rich Moore
Voices: John C. Reilly, Sarah Silverman, Gal Gadot, Taraji P. Henson, Bill Hader, Jack McBrayer, Jane Lynch, Alan Tudyk, Alfred Molina
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,450: 'Mowgli: Legend of the Jungle' (2018)

Whenever a director needs to lend a computer-generated character a much-needed dramatic weight and dimension, Andy Serkis is all but guaranteed to be at the top of anybody's list. The actor took the breath away as Gollum in The Lord of the Rings and again as the magnetic Caesar in the rebooted Planet of the Apes trilogy. So it makes perfect sense that his directorial debut would be motion-capture heavy, with the master himself playing one of the CGI characters. Adapting Rudyard Kipling's novel The Jungle Book has long been a passion project for Serkis, and the film, which was originally entitled Jungle Book: Origins, was scheduled for a 2016 release and set to compete against Disney's own remake of their 1967 classic. To allow more time to work on the special effects, the release date was pushed back to 2017, and then to 2018. As Warner Bros. seemingly became concerned at the idea of a potential box-office bomb, the distribution rights were eventually sold to Netflix. 

This transition to the small screen works both for and against Mowgli: Legend of the Jungle. Although he has voiced his delight at Netflix acquiring his film, it's difficult to believe that Serkis wasn't disappointed that such a personal project wouldn't be seen on the big screen. On the other hand, this has allowed for a much darker tone, and thus bringing it closer to Kipling's original text, without any concern for classification. It's a 12A on Netflix, but I feel the censors may have requested some cuts for a cinema release, and probably rightfully so. This doesn't feature any song-and-dance numbers or King Louie, and the once-cuddly Baloo the sloth bear is now a scarred brute with a Cockney accent. The story is familiar enough, with an orphan boy being left to die in the jungle before being carried to safety by the wise black panther Bageera (voiced by Christian Bale). A wolf pack takes him in, and the boy grows up to be Mowgli (Rohan Chand), only the wolves are never quite convinced of his importance and the man-cub struggles to find his place. 

All is relatively happy until the fearsome, man-killing Bengal tiger Shere Khan (Benedict Cumberbatch) arrives to kill Mowgli, who he feels threatens the very jungle itself. Cumberbatch is far more terrifying than Idris Elba's incarnation, and the effects work is rather astonishing. This level of quality is not maintained however, as for every jaw-dropping close-up of Bageera's face, there is a wolf that looks bizarrely unfinished. And this unevenness runs throughout the film, not only with the special effects, but also with the tone. Serkis' attempt to deliver a different take on the story is admirable and warranted, but the darkness occasionally veers into outright horror. The climax of the film is shockingly brutal when compared to the lighter moments before, and the fate of one of Mowgli's close friends is one of the most disturbing things I've seen for a very a long time. It's undeniably jarring, and will likely scar any unsuspecting children watching for life. While Serkis may struggle to find the perfect balance, it's a bold piece of work by a thoroughly underappreciated actor that at least strives to grasp the deeper themes within the story.


Directed by: Andy Serkis
Starring: Rohan Chand, Christian Bale, Cate Blanchett, Benedict Cumberbatch, Naomie Harris, Andy Serkis, Peter Mullan, Matthew Rhys, Freida Pinto
Country: UK/USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,449: 'Bird Box' (2018)

Perhaps it's because the dystopian survival horror has been done to death of late, or maybe it's because John Krasinski's vastly superior and similarly themed A Quiet Place is still fresh in the mind, but there's something strangely hollow about Netflix's latest smash-hit and water-cooler conversation starter. Bird Box became the inspiration for a series of dangerous YouTube stunts that resulted in the social media platform issuing a warning to anyone thinking about taking part in the 'Bird Box Challenge', but sadly, given the film's potential, this is perhaps all it will be remembered for in the years to come. All the pieces are in place for a tense 90 minutes, but Oscar-winning director Susanne Bier's film plays out over a mostly dull 2-and-a-bit hours, with little more than two memorable set-pieces and a strong central performance from Sandra Bullock to hold it all together.

Like an uneasy blend A Quiet Place and The Happening, the planet has been overrun by a mysterious force that causes people to go insane and commit suicide. While the family of Krasinski's memorable horror were forbidden to make any sounds, the players in Bird Box aren't permitted to see. Just one glance at the unknown creatures stalking the streets will cause their eyes to turn a murky purple and instantly seek a way of ending their own life, and when we first meet Malorie (Bullock), she is about to embark on a dangerous journey down river with two children in the hope of locating a sanctuary they heard about over a walkie-talkie. Flash back five years, and the pregnant Malorie witnesses the collapse of society first-hand, as a routine car ride back from the hospital turns into a mindless bloodbath. She escapes into the home of shouty misanthrope Douglas (John Malkovich), and is forced to hole up with a bunch of genre archetypes (played by Trevante Rhodes, Jacki Weaver, Rosa Salazar, BD Wong and Lil Rel Howery, amongst others).

With the doors locked and the windows covered up, it seems like Malorie and her new friends have it made. But for reasons never entirely explained, the creatures don't drive everybody to suicide. If you're crazy, you are instead driven to expose those lucky enough to be hiding out to the mysterious force. It might be an attempt to keep things cryptic, or it may be sheer laziness, but the rules of the game remain frustratingly unexplained. These creatures - who we never see - sometimes announce their presence with a gust of wind, and sometimes not. One person infected will immediately jump out of a window, but another will take minutes to turn, allowing them time to say something meaningful before they croak. The monsters clearly possess the power to move objects, so why don't they at least try to enter homes? We are left to fit the pieces together ourselves, but very little adds up. The likes of Night of the Living Dead and Assault on Precinct 13 sustained a bristly atmosphere by making us care about the characters, but reliable actors like Rhodes and Malkovich are never allowed to be anything more than 'love interest' or 'annoying right-wing nut'. It isn't all bad - one set-piece involving a short car ride to get supplies with only a SatNav computer screen to guide them is wrought with tension - but in the wake of A Quiet Place, which understood the mechanics behind what makes an effective survival horror, Bird Box feels like a missed opportunity.


Directed by: Susanne Bier
Starring: Sandra Bullock, Trevante Rhodes, John Malkovich, Sarah Paulson, Jacki Weaver, Rosa Salazar, BD Wong, Tom Hollander
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,446: 'Widows' (2018)

When 12 Years a Slave took home the Best Picture Academy Award back in 2013, many of us expected director Steve McQueen to go even bigger and more ambitious with his next project. After all, his previous films Hunger and Shame were hardly lacking in scope and weight. It's taken five years to finally arrive, but McQueen's new film Widows, adapted from the 1983 ITV drama series of the same name, takes his work into a whole new territory: the genre movie. Yes, Widows seemingly follows the traditions of the great heist movies of old, with Michael Mann's Thief and Heat coming immediately to mind, taking a crack team and handing them a near-impossible task which they must plan with expert precision if they ever hope to pull it off. It would seem that, on paper at least, McQueen has taken it down a notch, but by taking on such a familiar story, the writer/director has given himself an even greater task.

Widows opens with the immediate aftermath of a heist gone awry. We watch from inside a speeding van as the wounded gang make their getaway, with their gun-toting victims and the police giving chase. The twist is that they all perish in a warehouse explosion, with the stolen $2 million going up in flames with them. The gang's widows are the ones left feeling the aftershocks: not only are they left grieving for their husbands, but the guy they stole from - alderman campaigner and community leader Jamal Manning (Brian Tyree Henry) - wants his money back. Veronica (Viola Davis) takes the reigns when she finds her husband's notebook, which contains a detailed plan for a heist worth $5 million. Two of the other widows - Alice (Elizabeth Debicki) and Linda (Michelle Rodrgiguez) - have their own financial problems, so they agree to take on the job when Veronica comes a-knocking. They really have no choice. It's either find the money, or Jamal's psychopathic brother Jatemme (a frightening Daniel Kaluuya) will kill them and take everything they own anyway.

McQueen's task here is to deconstruct a slice of popcorn cinema and add the kind of punch and social commentary that made his previous work so great. He does so effortlessly, carefully developing each of the leads and making their story believable, later drafting in a fourth member in the form of Belle (Cynthia Erivo), a single mother working multiple jobs to pay the rent. McQueen and co-writer Gillian Flynn (Gone Girl) keep the action fast-paced and brutal, so the 130-minute running time breezes by. If there's a complaint to be had, it's that the film is too short and often feels crammed with too many characters and side-stories. Thrown into the mix is Jamal's campaign opposition Jack Mulligan (Colin Farrell), who has had past dealings with Veronica's husband Harry (Liam Neeson) but has come to the realisation that the political manoeuvring of his elderly father (Robert Duvall) is no longer feasible. Like the series it was based on, Widows may have worked better unravelling over the course of a few episodes. But this may have prevented McQueen from reminding us why he is one of the most important directors working today, as he takes the time to deliver a jaw-dropping shot from the side of a car that shows how quickly a city landscape can shift from dire poverty to luxurious wealth, and a run-in with some trigger-happy police that will remain with you long after the credits have rolled.


Directed by: Steve McQueen
Starring: Viola Davis, Elizabeth Debicki, Michelle Rodriguez, Cynthia Erivo, Colin Farrell, Brian Tyree Henry, Daniel Kaluuya, Liam Neeson, Carrie Coon
Country: UK/USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,445: 'Bohemian Rhapsody' (2018)

Bohemian Rhapsody started out life way back in 2010, with Sacha Baron Cohen set to star as Queen's hypnotic frontman Freddie Mercury. With band members Brian May and Roger Taylor heavily involved in the development, Baron Cohen eventually left, citing creative differences with the way they wished to approach the story as the main reason for his departure. The years went by, and in 2017, the wheels were well and truly in motion with Bryan Singer in the director's chair and Rami Malek in the lead role. The production was famously dogged with problems, and when Singer was eventually fired for unprofessional behaviour (reports say he was frequently disruptive on set, even failing to turn up for three days straight), it felt like the film would never see the light of day. But Dexter Fletcher filled the vacant director's chair and Bohemian Rhapsody was released to huge box-office numbers, and recently received Academy Award nominations for Best Picture and Best Actor, amongst others.

Remarkably, despite the film's difficult production, there's no sign of patchwork or a clash of directorial styles. Bohemian Rhapsody actually has much greater problems, and while anybody looking for an easily-digestible Queen sing-a-long with find much to love here, anybody hoping for a deeper re-telling of one of the music's most enigmatic figures with likely be baffled at the film's eagerness to share the credit and Wikipedia-entry approach to story-telling. We briefly get to see Mercury before he took to the stage, working as a baggage-handler at Heathrow while his parents worry about his lack of academic ambition. His experience as a young immigrant is summarised by a single racial slur, and the film isn't too concerned with exploring this any further. Perhaps screenwriter Anthony McCarten (who wrote last year's similarly formulaic Oscar-baiter Darkest Hour) felt like this would be too much of a drag for the audience, so he quickly moves to Mercury introducing himself to Smile guitarist Brian May (Gwilym Lee) and drummer Roger Taylor (Ben Hardy), coincidentally mere seconds after the band loses its lead singer.

A few montages later and the band now known as Queen (bassist John Deacon (Joseph Mazzello) completes the group) are signed up by manager John Reid (Aidan Gillen) and land a contract with EMI Records. The characters act and talk like they already know how the story turns out, and the film only manages to scratch beneath the surface when dealing with Mercury's relationship with love-of-his-life Mary Austin (Lucy Boynton) and her gradual realisation of his sexuality. The rest consists of band squabbles that always seem to conclude with the writing of a hit song, rock movie cliches like the alcohol-fuelled parties and accelerating ego, and cartoon supporting characters (Mike Myers' meta appearance as EMI executive Ray Foster spectacularly misses the mark). By aiming for 12A/PG-13 certificate, Mercury's story is oddly sexless. For a man that radiated sex and sexiness with every air-punch and pout, the lack of raunchiness adds an unwelcome TV-movie quality. It only really comes alive when Malik is allowed to do his thing on stage, climaxing with an extended Live Aid performance that will have you singing along and waving your arms. It's a great impression by Malik, if hardly a great performance, and it helps reminds us of how great Queen really were and how timeless their sound is. Bohemian Rhapsody has certainly made me a bigger Queen fan, but this isn't the biopic the band deserve. That being said, I haven't come across a single person that agrees with me, so what do I know?


Directed by: Bryan Singer
Starring: Rami Malek, Lucy Boynton, Gwilym Lee, Ben Hardy, Joseph Mazzello, Aidan Gillen, Allen Leech, Tom Hollander, Mike Myers
Country: UK/USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,442: 'White Boy Rick' (2018)

If you've ever read up on Richard Wershe Jr, the drug kingpin whose life became the stuff of legend in the prion system over the years, you'll likely be aware that he was used as an FBI informant at just 14 years of age, while the Bureau funded his empire to keep him slinging on the streets and in the loop with any other criminal activity happening in his city of Detroit. After the FBI higher-ups discovered his age, they ditched him, and the dealer known as 'White Boy Rick' was eventually busted for selling cocaine and sentence to life in prison, a ridiculous sentence handed out via some Draconian law that has since been discarded. It's a fascinating, frustrating story that you wouldn't believe if it wasn't true, but Yann Demange's new film White Boy Rick doesn't quite know how to tell it. With so much to be told, the film seems to cast aside the central plot in favour of a domestic drama which, although terrifically acted by the whole cast, doesn't know where its priorities should lie.

We first meet the young Rick (Richie Merritt) at a gun show with his father Richard Sr. (Matthew McConaughey). Despite his baby face and bum-fluff upper-lip hair, Rick is confident and street-smart, teaming up with Old Man Wershe to hustle a salesman into selling two machine guns for a ridiculously knocked-down price. Rick Sr. deals guns for a living, but the business is far from prosperous, and he dreams of someday owning a video store and living within the law. His daughter Dawn (Bel Powley) has picked up a nasty drug habit, and the family-of-three regularly have shouting matches in the street. Luckily, Grandpa (Bruce Dern) and Grandma (Piper Laurie) are just down the street to lighten the mood. After pulling off a few arms deals with gangster 'Lil Man' Curry (Jonathan Majors), Rick Jr. works his way into the cocaine business under the wing of an African-American gang. It doesn't take him long to get busted, but FBI agents Snyder (Jennifer Jason Leigh) and Byrd (Rory Cochrane), along with Detroit PD Detective Jackson (Brian Tyree Henry), are quick to pounce, handing the juvenile a fat pouch of cocaine to keep him in action, promising protection in exchange for information.

It's around this point that the script by Andy Weiss, Logan Miller and Noah Miler starts to lose control, struggling to grasp the message it's trying to convey in a blur of competing plot threads. The family drama at the very centre of Rick's life is given the most attention, and it's engrossing, often devastatingly raw stuff. Powley and McConaughey are standouts, the former wrestling with an addiction spiralling rapidly out of control and the latter blaming himself for the path his son has decided to take. Rick Sr. hates drugs because they devastate lives, yet his guns are used for multiple murders across the city. The domestic scenes are so well done that you almost forget there's another story being told, one that is setting Rick up for a lengthy term in slammer. So when these moments arrive, you never really understand what's going on.

Why exactly would the FBI put so much trust in a 14 year-old relatively new to the drugs scene, and just what does White Boy Rick do on a day-to-day basis? We don't really see him selling drugs, or spending money, or setting up contacts, or building this so-called empire, so Rick's real status and influence remains a mystery. Even his occasional meetings with Snyder and Bird are brief and bereft of information. Demange wants to make the point that Rick was ultimately set up by a government willing to ruthlessly exploit a minor for their own benefit, yet with so little time developing his criminal activities and relationship with the authorities, this aspect almost feels like an afterthought. As a portrait of family dysfunction, White Boy Rick excels, but if you want to really learn about how Richard Wershe Jr went from bread-line gun-runner to FBI informant to a landing a brutally unfair life sentence, I would opt for a Google.


Directed by: Yann Demange
Starring: Richie Merritt, Matthew McConaughey, Bel Powley, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Rory Cochrane, Brian Tyree Henry, Jonathan Majors, Bruce Dern, Piper Laurie
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie