Reviews

Taking quite a few liberties when it comes to adapting its source material, Hammer's 'Dracula (1958)' retools its iconic story to focus primarily on the conflict between its eponymous bloodsucker and Van Helsing, the Vampire Hunter. Reimagining the latter as younger and (loosely speaking) more action-oriented, the piece pushes him into the role of protagonist at the cost of severely reducing the importance of several of its other players. That's not necessarily a bad thing, though, as accuracy doesn't make for a good film in and of itself. Besides, the more this can do to distance itself from the already ubiquitous Universal version the better. While this isn't the first film to feature extended canine teeth on its creatures of the night, it's the one that popularised it and several other images you readily associate with the vampire genre. Christopher Lee makes for a more subdued Count Dracula than Bela Lugosi, with no thousand-yard hypnotic stares or instantly recognisable accent, but he imbues the character with an animalistic quality that explodes onto the screen whenever the pretense of being human no longer serves its purpose. There's also a somewhat calmly erotic element he brings to the character, with his various female victims seeming to want his fangs deep inside them (this was apparently more clear in the original cut, but - along with some additional gore - the scenes that highlighted it were removed for the wide release). Lee only appears on screen for seven minutes, speaking a mere sixteen lines of dialogue and only doing so within the first act. That's definitely not as much Dracula as I'd like, but the feature's sparing use of him is effective enough. Because the whole affair is about eliminating his evil, he has an oddly ever-present feeling and his appearances are always compelling (if not especially scary). Playing opposite him is Peter Cushing, whose version of Van Helsing is essentially the first step in getting the character from the old professor type person he is in the novel and its initial adaptation(s) to the ass-kicking Vampire slayer we see in more modern media such as Van Helsing (2004). He's really good in the role, combining his British stiff upper lip with an energetic physical capability that allows him to burst into action mere moments after delivering an extended speech in his classic cadence. The picture isn't filled with set-pieces, by any means, but it has a bit more zip to it than you might expect. Although it's definitely a talky affair (perhaps too talky on occasion), there are a couple of exciting sequences that are actually rather thrilling in their own way and often make use of special effects that must have been fairly shocking for the time (although certainly tame by today's standards). The movie generally lacks a strong sense of atmosphere. The moody, gothic impressionism and inky black-and-white cinematography of certain previous adaptations has been replaced with a more conventional approach that makes use of a generic technicolor palette. It's autumnal in its own weirdly cosy way, but its muted colours feel as though they blend into each other and there's a lack of contrast (although the bright-red blood is nice and painterly). Even though it isn't exactly filled with stark images that remain in your imagination long after they've appeared, it doesn't look especially bad. In fact, it certainly has its own aesthetic charm. That charm reverberates across the entire experience. It's not great, but it's hard not to like. It's a quaint experience that's mostly enjoyable, a sturdy and well-paced adaptation that may be a bit too talky at times but makes some bold choices and includes moments of fairly gripping action. It's a dependable effort.

We all know that Harvey Weinstein can't keep his grubby hands to himself, so it's perhaps natural to lay the blame for this 'international cut' solely at his feet. After all, his production company picked up the global rights to the film with the prerequisite that it would be trimmed to under two hours. Considering the original version had already been sliced from a reported four hours down to a fairly reasonably 130 minutes, this is a bit of a strange request. Imagine my surprise, though, when director Wong Kar-Wai stated that this new version isn't "watered down" and actually contains some material not present in the original. The fact that the filmmaker actually supervised this cut is almost unbelievable, because it's by far the worst thing he's produced to date (that I've seen, at least).

That's not to imply that what made it to international screens isn't unmistakably the work of Wong Kar-Wai; you only have to wait mere moments before the director's iconic stuttering slow-motion comes into play, for instance. However, there's a palpable sense that his initial intention has been lost amidst his efforts to make the history surrounding 'The Grandmaster (2013)' more palatable to Western audiences. While trying to present something that people unfamiliar with Chinese history will instantly understand, he's lost almost all sense of heart and - to a lesser but still notable degree - purpose. My mum described the movie as monotone, and that's perhaps the best word for it. It plods forwards in a single register, occasionally stopping to display intertitles that explain elements of the plot instead of organically allowing them to be shown and - more importantly - felt. We don't really see how these events affect the characters, which makes them feel almost entirely irrelevant even though they're the main thing that the 'international cut' wants to convey to its audience. It's hard to get invested in anything because the important stuff - like character and theme - is conveyed too obliquely and the unimportant stuff - like historical events and people's names - is conveyed too explicitly.

Furthermore, the whole film has the aesthetic, pacing and structure of an extended dream sequence. It all plays out in a slightly surreal, stream-of-consciousness style that might replicate the cadence of its lead characters' signature martial art style but also beats you over the head due to its repetitive and unrelenting nature. Things start out quite promisingly, and the overt stylisation is striking in each and every scene, but eventually it becomes hard to stay focused because everything just feels the same. There's no real ebb and flow, no build up to the fights, no calm before the storm. By the time the flick's most interesting elements - including its best fight scene - rolls around, you just don't care anymore. The action doesn't feel like action because it rarely has any real consequences, coming and going just as easily as the elliptical drama. The same sense of inertia applies to the narrative, too. Although it isn't exactly stagnant in terms of what occurs, it plows through its events with an "and then this happened" attitude that makes why a lot of it feel fairly perfunctory. It isn't clear why we're being told this story, and that's even worse when the 'international cut' eventually makes a big stink out of hammering this into a more traditional biopic box with an ending that comes out of nowhere and almost feels like something out of an entirely different affair. What I mean is that you can kind of tell the initial ambition doesn't line up with the final (international) execution, in that what seems to have been a story centred around the kind of elusive connections this director always returns to has instead been retooled as a more conventional 'true story' picture meant to showcase the nuts-and-bolts life story of Bruce Lee's mentor (and it's still too obscure to really do that, no matter how many intertitles it throws at you, because it was never meant to be something that could do that even if it wanted to).

The end result is definitely disappointing, despite being as lavish and visually stunning and slippery as you'd expect from something directed by Wong Kar-Wai. Perhaps the original cut is a major improvement over the one I inadvertently watched, but I can only comment on what I've seen and what I've seen didn't really impress me. It's just really hard to care about anything that happens in the feature, and a lot of it is as confusing as it is boring. As my mum said, it's monotone. Its aesthetic is accomplished and often quite breathtaking, but it's pretty much the only thing to hold on to. I'd be lying if I said I liked it, no matter how much I wanted to. It's not very good, to be honest.

'The Bikeriders (2023)' is based on the book of the same name and follows the lives of members of a motorcycle gang founded in the late 1960s. At the heart of the film is Jodie Comer's Kathy, a straight-laced lady who becomes enamored by the mysterious Benny (Austin Butler) and finds herself in a sort of love triangle between her new husband and the founder of the gang he holds so dear (Tom Hardy). Kathy is, essentially, the film's protagonist, as it's told primarily from her perspective and the interview-based framing device ensures that even the scenes she isn't in are tinged with her point of view. Essentially an examination of a specific kind of masculinity, the movie doesn't focus as much on motorcycles as you may expect - even though bikes are certainly integral to, and inseparable from, its core concept. Taking place over a number of years, the narrative essentially depicts the downfall of the club, which initially starts out as a way for lonely men to connect and not feel like outsiders anymore but eventually devolves into a sprawling, out-of-control gang that dabbles in real crime. One of the main problems with the piece is that it's arguable Benny isn't really a character so much as a prop or, perhaps, idea; he never changes and his relationship with Kathy is so poorly defined that it's difficult to know if either of them actually care about each other for large portions of the piece (perhaps this is intentional, but it still feels weird and makes it hard to invest in one of the central plot lines). Johnny, the club's founder, is more of a conventional character in the sense that he changes over the course of the story, becoming noticeably more weary as time goes on. Kathy, too, evolves in her own way. Everyone else is fairly one-note (although a couple of notable side players are treated with more nuance), but that's almost unavoidable when there are so many characters and there's so much history that needs to be covered. The film feels somewhat observational and cold, although it also has a handful of more intimate scenes that are far more affecting than its more clinical segments. However, it manages to capture the sort of fly-on-the-wall feel that its source material (which I haven't read) must also have considering it was written by someone who directly witnessed a lot of the events it depicts. In some ways, it feels like a sprawling epic; in others, a tragic romance (between husband and wife, friend and mentor, leader and follower, man and bike). It sometimes struggles to find its sense of purpose, but also features a handful of scenes that seem to pinpoint it with laser precision. There's also a palpable homoeroticism underpinning some of the affair (one scene in particular) and it tinges everything with an all-encompassing subtext that you can't help but think about once you've noticed. It's a little slow on occasion and it can sometimes leave you a little underwhelmed, but it's typically an entertaining and really well-crafted experience. The filmmaking isn't particularly fancy, but don't let that fool you into thinking it isn't top tier. The sets, costumes and vehicles plant the picture firmly in its intended time period and the performances are really grounded in a way that brings out the subtleties of scenes that wouldn't work anywhere near as well as they do if they weren't acted with such grace. It's a solid pseudo-biopic with an interesting subject and a confident execution.

Starting off with a bang, 'Stage Fright (1987)' makes it clear early on that it's going to be pretty much everything you could hope for in a pseudo-Giallo slasher. The only reason I say "pseudo" is that the picture doesn't make use of a whodunnit narrative, instead having its killer be more similar to someone like Michael Myers from 'Halloween (1978)', but still has all the aesthetics of something distinctly Italian (a lesser Dario Argento springs to mind). Taking place during the rehearsals for an upcoming stage play about a masked murderer, the film depicts a skeleton crew of performers continuing to work even after discovering the corpse of a makeup artist outside. Because the director wants to capitalise on the infamy that's sure to come from such an event, he locks his players inside (and hides the key so well he doesn't even know where it is) and demands they get ready for the opening night he's sure will be a thundering success. Unfortunately for him and everyone else (except us, of course), he's also locked the killer in with them. The movie makes good use of its distinct setting to both justify and invigorate its familiar set-up. Featuring just the right amount of creatively spilled gore, the flick bathes its players in near-neon light as they're stalked by an owl-masked murderer whose first kill is nonchalantly watched by everyone else because they believe he's simply rehearsing alongside his target. It's a really fun time filled with suspense, splatter and screams. I wish that it maintained its intensity all throughout its third act, as it settles back into its previously suitable ebb-and-flow rhythm even after everything goes to hell and the final girl has to face off against the killer alone, but this is a fairly minor problem. Really, despite its flaws, this is supreme slasher entertainment and it delivers exactly what you want from something like this. It's entertaining from beginning to end, delivering its scares with a hint of a wink that signals it's in on the joke (or, perhaps, genre), and is well-crafted in all the areas that count. It's a really fun, aesthetically pleasing effort.

'Riki-Oh: The Story Of Ricky (1991)' is somewhat odd because it's both good and bad. Not good because it's bad, just good and bad. As Edgar Wright himself once wrote, it's a film that's sort of "above ranking". This uber-violent martial arts movie sort of plays out like a comedy except instead of jokes there are explosions of extreme gore that would make even the most seasoned Mortal Kombat player blush. Although the violence is intense (there's a strong argument to be made that this is one of the most violent movies), it's so silly and over-the-top and often not exactly convincing (even though most of it's pretty effective if you can suspend your disbelief) that it's never upsetting in the slightest. The only truly valid reaction to the bloodshed is one of shock followed swiftly by laughter; each and every gag is as jaw-dropping as it is side-splitting (both puns intended). The film makes no effort to hide the fact that it's essentially all about the creative ways in which it eviscerates its characters, and there's a sense that it's constantly winking at you even while playing things relatively straight. The choreography comes entirely secondary to the butchery that acts as blunt punctuation in the fight scenes, so the action isn't so much exciting as it is startling (somehow, the piece is able to surprise with each increasingly creative way it dispatches its characters). There's a sense that both you and the film itself are waiting for the blood to start flowing and the guts to start spilling, with each set-piece sort of acting like a macabre jack-in-the-box that's slowly having its handle cranked until someone's head comes off or their eyes pop out or they slice themselves open and use their own intestines as a strangling weapon. This cycle applies both to individual scenes and to the affair as a whole, leading to an experience that essentially amounts to a series of grisly death blows held together by the loosest semblance of plot and character. Apparently, a lot of the narrative from the source manga was purposefully lost in adaptation because the filmmakers weren't confident their work would be popular enough to produce a sequel and didn't want to disappoint audiences with hints towards things that wouldn't be explored in further features. Because of this, many reveals that seem to be fairly heavily telegraphed simply don't happen, and the story suffers because of it. There are a lot of unanswered questions, with the biggest one being "why?". The central character is robbed of almost all reason for his actions, instead given only the vaguest of backstories explored via flashbacks, and this makes a lot of what he does feel reactionary at best and arbitrary at worst. It's not a huge issue because the material isn't exactly begging for in-depth character development and a more straightforward plot suits its ambitions of being primarily about bone-crunching violence, but it is noticeable and contributes to the intangible yet inescapable feeling that a lot of the picture is just a little dull. Perhaps that's not the right word, but there's definitely a sense that everything is ever-so-slightly less engaging than it ought to be. That's even reflected in the action itself, which isn't particularly compelling simply because of the way it's set up to revolve entirely around momentary outbursts of bodily destruction. If said destruction weren't some of the most inventive and intense ever put to film, it wouldn't be enough to truly hold your attention. Thankfully, it is. Despite being theoretically repetitive, this savagery never fails to make your eyes widen and your smile widen. Because the movie gets its tone so right, it never feels as though it's beating you over the head with its brutality and it never registers as being in poor taste. It doesn't treat death with the reverence it perhaps deserves, but very few action movies do; this just happens to be a lot more explicit in its depictions of murder. Ultimately, this is a film that gives you a very specific kind of pleasure. That's essentially what I mean when I say it's both good and bad. It isn't a so much a combination of good and bad elements as entirely good and entirely bad all at once, exactly what it needs to be and only as enjoyable as it is precisely because of this oxymoron. Perhaps that doesn't make sense; it's hard to articulate, to be honest. The bottom line, though, is that the film is entertaining and kind of essential for a specific subset of moviegoers. Even though I don't love it, I'm certainly in that subset and am probably better off for having seen it. It's truly difficult to rate because it doesn't quite feel like anything else. It's both awesome and lacklustre all at once. It has to be seen to be believed, though. I like it quite a bit. I'm not sure what else to say, so I'll just punch a hole in this wall and walk through it dramatically.

'The New Mutants (2020)' is the only 'X-Men' movie I haven't seen before, and its reputation certainly precedes it. After being delayed three times before Covid came along and ruined everyone's year (and being delayed once more because of it), the film ended up premiering over two years after its initial slated release date. Of course, sliding into cinemas in the middle of a pandemic did nothing other than force this further into the obscurity it already seemed somewhat destined to become engulfed by, so it's perhaps natural that the picture feels like a bit of a myth. This feeling is furthered by the fact that its planned sequels were scrapped, likely due to its unsatisfactory box-office performance and the structural changes occurring in the wake of the Disney/Fox merger, and that it occupies this bizarre limbo wherein it's sort of the last 'X-Men' film but it's also not really an 'X-Men' film in any widely recognisable way. As such, it's the sort of thing that you usually unceremoniously scroll past on Disney+, and I doubt many people would ever stumble across its actual play button if it wasn't for its fairly tenuous link to its wider franchise and the platform's ability to group it together with those more popular pictures. If that wasn't enough, the people who actually have watched it don't tend to have all that much to say about it, let alone anything particularly good.

As you can probably tell, I wasn't exactly optimistic about the flick's chances of being better than its reputation. Thankfully, I underestimated it. Is it too far to say I was pleasantly surprised to discover that it's fine? Maybe. It is faint praise, after all. But I won't deny that I like the film far more than most people seem to. There are fair few elements that are at least interesting, and the piece is conceptually sound. While it initially feels as though it's going to fall into the trap of queerbaiting its audience, it eventually fully embraces the same-sex relationship between two of its central characters. Not only is it incredibly important (and even quite groundbreaking), their romance is sweetly written, tenderly performed and wholly believable. The movie is rather unconventional in the themes it aims to tackle, at least when it comes to superhero stuff, because it tries to ground each of its characters' suffering in deep-rooted trauma that's generally pretty dark for this kind of material. It aims to have the kids overcome their past abuses or accidental power mishaps by having them bond and undergo a subtle kind of talk therapy through their budding friendship built upon the shared experience of being locked (or, as the doctor puts it, sequestered) and studied in a so-called medical facility apparently for their own safety. This focus on character is relatively refreshing (although the feature's decision to reuse some limited footage from 'Logan (2017)' doesn't do it any favours considering it draws a comparison to perhaps the one 'X-Men' movie more unashamedly character-centric than it aspires to be), and I appreciate the decision to put everything else on the backburner in an effort to boost its impact.

However, this last point is also perhaps the picture's biggest problem. If you're going to sacrifice everything - including immersive atmosphere, exciting spectacle and (most crucially considering how the film was marketed) unsettling horror - for the sake of character work, you better make sure that character work is done as well as it possibly can be. Sadly, it just isn't. It's clumsy and conventional and also really rushed, with each of the eponymous mutants seeming to overcome their issues by simply telling someone about their darkest memory. In theory, that's not such a bad thing: advocating for therapy and talking through your trauma is a legitimately good message, after all. In practice, though, it's far less satisfying than it should be because the affair often stacks these scenes up more-or-less one after the other, leading to an oddly repetitive pacing that makes everything seem like one long exercise in some sort of macabre one-upmanship. Plus, it has no idea what to do with this stuff once it's out in the open, so sort of just forgets about it and has its heroes make use of the powers they were unable to master prior to, I guess, mastering their emotions. One of the backstories is shrouded in mystery, seemingly so that it can be explored in detail as a sort of twist later on. This teased reveal never occurs, and we're left to assume what actually happened in a way that doesn't feel so much ambiguous as it does accidental. It's emblematic of the movie's scrappy editing, which implies it was chopped and changed quite a bit in post (indeed, it was meant to undergo reshoots due to poor test screenings but it's unclear whether or not these reshoots actually happened or whether they were cancelled due to the Disney/Fox merger). The director has admitted to finding the shoot stressful as he felt unable to fully embrace the film's horror elements. Yes, as I implied earlier, this is - or, at least, was - supposed to be a horror movie. The underlying idea is that the mutants are all experiencing mysterious visions that dredge up their deepest fears and force them to relive their worst moments, which is what prompts them to actually face their inner demons in the first place. The problem is that none of these moments are scary, and the suspense of what's causing them is totally skewered by the picture's tendency to cut to shots that feature on-screen text that basically screams "this is the source of the visions!". This hand-holding approach is really weird considering this is meant to be a more adult (albeit PG-13) effort, as is the fact that the final result shies so far away from being frightening that it can barely be classed as a horror experience at all (despite its upsetting elements) and is actually a little bit less scary than some previous 'X-Men' outings.

Anyway, the point is that the affair sacrifices so much stuff in order to focus on its character development, but it can't even do that to a truly satisfying degree. Although though the affair itself isn't ever exactly boring, there are large stretches of the narrative where nothing really engaging happens. It's a shame, too, because there are some decent ideas here that could have been really enjoyable if they were more refined. With more frequent set-pieces, be they action or horror, and a properly moody atmosphere, this could have been really distinct and equally as compelling. As it is, it just feels somewhat inconsequential and never truly grips you. It's a decent enough viewing experience, though, despite its flaws. It might not sound that way, but it is. While it isn't as engaging as you'd hope, is generally a little too slow for its own good (even at around 90 minutes in length), and suffers from a strange sense of isolation that is thematically apt but almost certainly accidental (why are there only five kids and one doctor at this institute? The narrative never provides a convincing reason), it's totally watchable fluff with a few enjoyable set-pieces, some relatively solid character work and muted yet dependable performances. Its same-sex relationship is sort of revolutionary and is really nice to see, too. It's genuinely not a bad effort, even though it's not exactly a good one either. It's alright.

'Inside Out 2 (2024)' is a colourful sequel that focuses on the next stage of Riley's development: becoming a teenager. Along with that change comes new emotions, chief among them anxiety. It has become somewhat of a trope for modern media to include representations of anxiety - and panic attacks, in particular - and it's easy to write off its inclusion as an attempt to cash in on what's 'trendy' (some films simply don't warrant its inclusion and handle it really clumsily because of that), but this is the perfect forum for it. The film is able to incorporate anxiety and dive into the importance of maintaining good mental health, presenting the emotion as something perhaps a little difficult to control but still as vital as everything else going on in your head. While the character essentially acts as the antagonist, she isn't a villain; she has Riley's best intentions at heart, after all. The flick is able to showcase her as both friend and foe in a way that feels really true to life, and ultimately follows in the footsteps of its predecessor in positing that a more complex internal life is what's needed for a more complex external one. That is to say, the movie isn't about eradicating anxiety, but rather learning to work with it. It's a good - and important - message and it's delivered really well.

Pixar know how to make an emotionally resonant story, and this is no exception. The cathartic climax is so affecting it brings tears to your eyes. The problem is that this resonance doesn't last very long, and it's easy to wonder if the emotionality is somewhat cheap because of it. Is it just a combination of the right music and the right sentimental dialogue, or is there something deeper going on? Is there something more universally true and profound being said? While I do think that there genuinely is poignance to be found here, it's somewhat disappointing that it doesn't stick with you for as long as you'd expect. The studio have managed occupy your brain and heart for much longer in the past, and there's a sense that much of this effort is ever so slightly throwaway. This is a minor complaint, though, because the fact that the flick is able to make you feel something - truly feel something - is definitely admirable. Furthermore, it's something that will likely hit home a lot harder for those who truly need to see it. While it still works as a universal experience, it naturally aims a little older than the previous picture. As such, it will probably act as a good tool for pre-teens / young teens experiencing similar changes to Riley to better understand their own situation, and perhaps act as a catalyst between them and the parents they're maybe reluctant to talk about these new feelings with.

In terms of actual plotting, the piece is pretty conventional. It follows the established formula almost exactly as it's written, never truly surprising or subverting cliché. In a way, though, that simply makes it more efficient at delivering its themes and doing so in a fun, bouncy, lighthearted fashion that balances levity with weight in a way that ensures everyone in the audience will remain engaged. It doesn't talk down to anyone - except in a purposefully knowing way that doesn't really count because it winks so hard while it does it - but it doesn't overcomplicate things, either. The characters develop slightly over the course of the story, even if things sometimes feel a little bit rushed, and there are a variety of entertaining set-pieces that coincide with the more drama-focused external elements which influence them. The film incorporates a variety of puns to represent internal processes such as thought (brainstorms) or instinct (sarcasm), and it's always enjoyable when one of these clever visuals pops up. The picture is fairly funny on occasion, too, and the voice work is strong across the board.

In the end, this is an entertaining sequel with lively animation, vibrant visuals, intelligent concepts, important messages and lots of heart. It's emotionally resonant and fairly profound in its own accessible way. It's a really good effort.

What better way to celebrate a parody artist than by creating a parody picture? 'Weird: The Al Yankovic Story (2022)' absolutely skewers the music biopic, representing the best - and most all-encompassing - poke of fun at the genre since 'Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story (2007)'. Satirising every trope it can think of, the movie makes use of satisfying deep cuts and an increasingly absurd sense of humour to subvert just about every real-life event it depicts. This isn't so much a story about what happened to the real Weird Al as to what didn't happen to him, mimicking the genre's typically egocentric outlook to literally depict the man as being the most famous and celebrated musician in the entire world. It takes even more bizarre turns than that but I won't spoil them here, as each new subversion provides more and more laughter and proves that the film's self-aware subject (who was heavily involved with production) has no problems poking fun at himself. At times, the feature is hilarious. Even when it isn't, it's a ton of fun. It knows exactly what it's doing at every turn, so much so that even its issues could be considered parodies of those same issues that appear in its inspirations. To be fair, it does start to stagnate slightly as it approaches its final third, spinning its wheels just a little before it shakes things up with a headfirst dive into all-out alt-history absurdity for a few scenes. Its aesthetic also seems somewhat cheap on occasion, with some of its in-universe oddball celebrity cameos (which are also real-life celebrity cameos) feeling more like people cosplaying as their character rather than fully embodying them. Again, though, this adds to the the flick's purposefully all-encompassing quirkiness. It's just a really well-achieved parody overall, one that manages to make sure its central premise never wears thin. It's a dorky movie celebrating a dorky artist and its joy (both on-screen and behind-the-scenes) is infectious. It takes what Weird Al does to popular music and applies it to his life: the music stays the same, so it's broadly recognisable, but the lyrics all change, so it's something altogether different and far more amusing. It's surprisingly great.

The first indication we get that Harold Shand most certainly isn't the legitimate businessman he aspires to be comes shortly after he learns of an attempt on his mother's life that has put an employee in the morgue: after coming to the conclusion that this is the work of a maniac, he calmly declares that he'll "have his carcass dripping blood by midnight". Without shouting about it, the movie makes it clear exactly what kind of man Harold is. 'The Long Good Friday (1980)' is about an unpleasant person having an unpleasant day. Taking place within a single 24-hour period, the picture depicts its protagonist's crime empire coming under fire from an unknown threat as he scrambles to regain control before a lucrative deal with the American mob goes the way of the dodo. The unashamedly cockney feature feels incredibly specific to a certain time and place, tying the traditional gangster genre to contemporary political and social issues without sacrificing the surface pleasures that have made it so long-standing. With an undercurrent of jet-black humour that mimics classic British self-deprecation, the piece progresses towards its inevitable yet somehow surprising climax with ease. Although the plot essentially bounces back and forth between dead ends, the narrative is consistently compelling and feels kind of like watching a train wreck in slow motion. Because there's no real reason to care for the protagonist other than the fact that we all know what it's like to have a bad day at work (albeit to a lesser degree than what's seen here), the film puts you in a somewhat objective perspective and allows you to simply observe its events. It doesn't feel particularly cold or anything like that, and it's still really gripping even though you don't really relate to anyone on screen. It's able to focus entirely on unsavory characters and implicitly decry their lifestyle simply by showing its often vicious consequences. The to-the-point direction aids in this, maintaining an intangible distance even during the most intimate moments of mourning and the most explosive moments of anger. The performances are on the money pretty much across the board, with Bob Hoskins delivering a towering turn as the sledgehammer-in-a-suit of a protagonist and Helen Mirren giving what could be a fairly throwaway character a lot of internal depth. The feature is a veritable who's who of British character actors from a certain era, too. It's really enjoyable to see someone you recognize pop up - whether it's Paul Freeman, Kevin McNally or Pierce Brosnan (among many others) - and the giddy kick it gives you almost feels like the equivalent of when a cameo character pops up in a Marvel movie or when Albert Einstein first shows up in the trailer for 'Oppenheimer (2023)'. It's a weird, instinctual pleasure that has no real basis in logic - or bearing on the quality of the picture - but is worth mentioning nevertheless. Ultimately, this is a really solid gangster movie with unlikable yet compelling characters (I could have done without the racism, but I suppose that adds to the lead's unpleasant nature) and a sense of impending doom that grows with each passing scene. Its central mystery is satisfying and also has several layers to it, so you likely won't guess what's going on even if you cotton on to one or two suspicious characters before their true actions have been revealed. The music takes an unexpected yet enjoyable approach, the infrequent violence is suitably brutal, and the performances are all really believable. It's a solid crime-thriller with a strong thematic underpinning and a confident aesthetic.

"There's a lot of dignity in that, isn't there? Going out like a raspberry ripple."

I never thought I'd actually go and see a 'Bad Boys' movie in the cinema, but online buzz made it hard to resist watching 'Bad Boys: Ride or Die (2024)' on the big screen. It's not like I especially dislike the franchise as a whole, but the first and third entries are so easy to forget (because they're quite good but not good enough to be particularly noteworthy) that the only thing I think of when I reflect on the series is the total travesty that is 'Bad Boys II (2003)'. Of course, that's not particularly fair. With this new entry, the ratio of success to failure within the franchise is a totally respectable 3:1, which is actually better than a lot of similarly long-running series.

At any rate, this fourth film is exactly what you'd hope it is: a fun, energetic and enjoyable buddy cop action-comedy with two likeable leads (slap notwithstanding) and several vital set-pieces that elegantly capture all the chaos you'd expect from something first started by Michael Bay. Unfortunately, it's also just as forgettable as most of its predecessors. At the time of writing, it's only been four days since I saw this and it honestly could have been half a year. That doesn't inherently make it bad, though. After all, if you forget what you've had for lunch, it doesn't mean you didn't enjoy the meal.

The two things that really save the movie from falling into mediocrity (albeit the upper echelons of mediocrity) are its stars and its directors. Martin Lawrence and Will Smith have excellent chemistry, as always, and their dynamic keeps the uber-generic plot feeling light on its feet. There are plenty of genuinely funny moments peppered throughout the picture (most, if not all, of which belong solely to Lawrence) and the tone is fairly upbeat throughout. There is some dissonance that occurs due to the stark contrast between the movie's typically care-free vibe and some of its meaner moments, but the atmosphere is mostly consistent and the piece manages to balance its humour with its harsher elements fairly well. Adil El Arbi and Bilall Fallah's direction is really bold, and it elevates the action far beyond what you may expect. Often making use of sweeping long takes to dynamically frame its orchestrated mayhem, the film grips you by the collar and doesn't let go until the bullets have stopped flying and the baddies are all crumpled on the ground. Everything is achieved with a striking balance between visual clarity and visceral disarray, perfectly encapsulating the so-called "Bayhem" that kicked off this series without succumbing to the confusion it so often carries with it. The flick makes good use of practical and digital effects to bring its shootouts, chases and crashes to life, incorporating an appreciated sense of variety to stop things from ever feeling stale. There is more than one sequence that really makes you sit up in your seat, and that's more than can be said about any of its predecessors. In that sense, this is probably the best of its series. To be fair, that's a difficult claim to make considering how little I remember those movies. Still, I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of this picture. It's genuinely good, and it seems to have been made by people truly passionate about making the best version of it possible.

It's not perfect, of course. The story is one of the most generic things I think I've ever seen, failing to surprise at every turn and introduced characters who make you exclaim "they're the baddie" within seconds of their arrival. It's a little bit too long for its own good, lagging ever so slightly in its middle section as it struggles to breathe life into what's perhaps its most well-worn trope. The flick includes a few somewhat distracting cameos that feel totally random (although I can't say that this is a positive or a negative, really). Plus, it introduces a very of-the-moment theme but doesn't really know what to do with it, opting to resolve it in an odd scene that totally undercuts what must have been the reason it was included in the first place. What's worse is that this theme seems to overtake a more major, and more entertaining, one that's set up much earlier and feels much more natural to the story the filmmakers are trying to tell.

Despite its problems, though, this is a really fun time. It's everything it needs to be, and its clichéd nature is almost (though not totally) cancelled out by its vigorous and inventive action.

'Hellraiser: Evolutions (2015)' is a documentary which focuses on the 'Hellraiser' franchise, with particular focus on the impact of the series. Featuring talking-head interviews with various people involved with the production of these movies (as well as some journalists and famous fans), most of the piece is dedicated to different interpretations of why the movies are so liked by so many different people. The problem is that none of this is insightful in the slightest. After all, I know why I like (some of) these films. I know that they centre on sadomasochism, that they include iconic imagery, that they play on the push-pull dynamic of pleasure and pain, that they hint at a darkness that's desired by all of us deep down, that Pinhead has pins in his head. Pretty much everyone who enjoys these films knows all that, too. Most of the people involved give very basic responses to these types of question and they all tend to repeat one another. There's very little in the way of interesting analysis, let's put it that way. There's not all that much actual behind-the-scenes content, either. Even though the documentary is mainly about the post-'Hellraiser: Bloodline (1996)' pictures, it only uses footage from the first three films (save for a few brief stills) and it doesn't really give you a sense of anything specific about any of those efforts. It all just feels a bit odd, really, and it borders on being boring on occasion due to its rudimentary and somewhat repetitive nature. It doesn't include enough insight to justify its runtime. However, it's not all bad. There are a few interviews, mainly towards the beginning, that are rather interesting. A few moments delve into the reasoning behind some choices made in certain entries, such as the decision to redub most dialogue in the first film or to recast Pinhead in the most recent one at the time of recording (Doug Bradley basically turned the script down because he didn't think it was particularly good and he didn't like the fact that the flick was being made mainly to keep hold of the franchise rights). While it may seem like faint praise, snippets such as these make the piece worthwhile if you're a fan. Plus, the people involved all talk with a fair amount of passion and it's nice to hear from people usually not given the spotlight in these kinds of thing. The range of interviewees is suitably eclectic and includes some relatively big names, and the documentary is well put together on the whole. It's somewhat disappointing and it gets less compelling as it goes on, but it's a fairly enjoyable effort that includes a couple of stand-out moments.

Like one of the series' iconic cenobites, 'Hellraiser: Bloodline (1996)' has been viciously pulled apart and haphazardly put back together as something entirely different, reminiscent of its former self but barely recognisable to anyone familiar with its non-mutilated version. While directing his first and only feature film, prolific special effects/ makeup artist Kevin Yahger decided to remove his name from the credits due to studio-mandated reshoots (done by a different director) and a forced recut of his original vision, meaning the third sequel to Clive Barker's iconic 'Hellraiser (1987)' carries the damning mark of "directed by Alan Smithee". Although you can certainly see the chasm between initial intent and ultimate execution, the film isn't as bad as you may expect considering its director chose to scrub his name from it. In fact, it's a relatively ambitious affair that's actually better than its direct predecessor, 'Hellraiser III: Hell On Earth (1992)'. Although it isn't especially good, per se, it's definitely enjoyable and has quite a solid sense of style, featuring some of the most atmospheric images of its antagonist ever put to film (the stand-out shot harshly lights Pinhead from the top, allowing the tips of his pins to be highlighted as the features of his face ominously sink back into inky black darkness). The flick takes place in three time periods: 18th century France, late-20th century America and 22nd century space. It tells the tale of the Lament Configuration from its naïve creation to its intended destruction, pitting the ancestors of the box's maker against the creatures it's used to summon. Although the transitions between the three settings are clumsy to the point of being confusing, the overall story is fairly interesting and somewhat unconventional. Perhaps more accurately, it has the potential to be those things. Likely do to the studio's meddling, the end result often settles back into a more mundane rhythm that places emphasis on oddly paced set-pieces and conventional 'monster at the end of the hall' scares. It's clear that someone was nervous about the more measured and cerebral approach the piece was taking, and that they forced a pivot into more traditional but less compelling territory. It does nothing other than hurt the picture, as the end result focuses the most on its least intriguing aspects. A prime example of this is how the film initially seems to set up another main villain, but then throws her by the wayside to reintroduce Doug Bradley's extreme acupuncturist because that's apparently what fans expect. Even when Angelique turns up in her glorious full-blown cenobite form (she has one of the best designs in the series), she's just treated as part of the scenery and never really given her moment to shine. Still, there's plenty to like here and it's genuinely quite fun on occasion. Its less conventional elements are certainly admirable and it has a strong sense of atmosphere throughout. Its cinematography is really satisfying, its special effects are suitably grisly and its score - while a step down from Christopher Young's work - is surprisingly effective. It's far better than you may expect it to be given that it carries the Smithee name. It isn't a patch on the original, but it's a decent effort that's survived what most movies can't even dream of enduring. In a meta way, that kind of makes it a perfect addition to this sadomasochistic series.

This interview with 'Hellraiser III: Hell On Earth (1992)' star Paula Marshall is an enjoyably relaxed experience in which the actor recalls her time working on her very first movie. She goes into some nice detail surrounding how she got the role and how she wanted to get things right, even going so far as to practice smoking (which she hates) in order to appear natural at it on screen. Her dedication is fairly impressive and you get the sense that she was passionate about building her career. She seems as though she is happy to have been involved with the film, even if she does make some easy-to-miss comments suggesting she doesn't hold the horror genre in too high esteem. The conversation doesn't get too much into the nitty gritty of the filming process, even if it does touch on Marshall's actual process a little more than expected, but it's still a wholesome chat that's open, honest and should prove a treat for fans of the film.

The third and final interview in its series of chats with Doug Bradley about the first three 'Hellraiser' movies focuses on 'Hellraiser III: Hell On Earth (1992)'. As usual, Bradley talks about his time working on the movie in a relaxed and fairly informative way, even if the overall conversation doesn't go beyond a certain level of depth and feels fairly surface level on the whole. However, there are plenty of nice bits of information here and there, including insight into the original idea for the movie (which might have not even included Pinhead) and the reason for the three year gap between the second and third entries in the series. There isn't all that much behind-the-scenes type stuff in terms of production, but it's all enjoyable enough to hear. Bradley ends the interview briefly discussing how many times he's played the character and what it means to him, and it's rather wholesome to find out that he isn't tired of people talking to him about the role; it seems he's perfectly happy to be forever associated with cinema's premier sadomasochist.

'Hellraiser III: Hell On Earth (1992)' constantly encourages a single thought: how the hell/ on Earth did we get here? It feels far more like a lesser 'A Nightmare On Elm Street (1984)' sequel than a follow-up to the excellent 'Hellraiser (1987)'. It's significantly worse than 'Hellbound: Hellraiser II (1988)', which itself is significantly worse than the first film, and it's honestly a bit baffling. I mean, who thought it was a good idea to turn Pinhead into a slightly more well-spoken Freddie Krueger, complete with maniacal cackling and sardonic quips? No longer beholden to the Lament Configuration (or the realm it acts as a doorway to) for vague and fairly limp reasons, the agony-obsessed antagonist regresses into total slasher villain territory and sets out on a bland mission to take over the world. He aims to show humanity their supposed true desires by torturing and/ or killing people in increasingly horrific ways, which is theoretically in character but is actually emblematic of the screenplay's total misunderstanding of what makes him such an iconic baddie. Although I can understand why one might think that giving him access to - and the desire to hurt - everyone on the planet will increase his scariness (after all, now he can get you), doing so only undermines the key aspects of what made him so unsettling in the first place: the fact that he must be summoned and can only ever turn up only when invited (unwittingly or otherwise), that he does his violent duty in a totally nonchalant and dispassionate way which we could never truly understand, and that he will not leave until he takes what he came for with him (or a suitable substitute). Perhaps it was inevitable that putting him at the centre of the piece would lead to a dilution of his necessary impartiality, but I'd like to think that there is a way of having him be the sole antagonist without reducing him to a shadow of his former self. He's incredibly difficult to take seriously, but the movie kind of wants you to. At any rate, it isn't some sort of tongue-in-cheek horror-comedy that purposefully makes its villain into a bit of a goof, albeit a nasty one. No, it seems to have done that entirely by accident, and is therefore not even funny.

Although there is some entertainment to be had when things go hog wild and an entire club's worth of patrons are torn to pieces with just about anything Pinhead has to hand, most of the movie is honestly rather boring. There's no real sense of atmosphere (at one point, the villain shows up in broad daylight, lit totally flat in a static mid-shot) and nothing in the experience is ever even close to being scary. It loses that taboo combination of sex and violence, of lust and revulsion, of pleasure and pain that makes the first film as distinct and effective as it is. There is a fair amount of gore, but gore alone isn't frightening. Nothing here gets under your skin, nothing here plays on fears that run deeper than "I wouldn't like to be killed like that". It's all just a bit silly, really. That isn't inherently bad, I suppose, but silly pictures sort of need to be fun to work. This isn't fun, it's just dull. Plus, it follows two features that aren't silly in the slightest, despite the frankly absurd elements they both contain. It just goes to show that anything can be taken seriously if it's done well enough and is treated with enough respect that it implicitly demands the same from whoever sees it.

I will say, though, that there are some elements here that work fairly well. A couple of the pseudo cenobites introduced in the third act are quite visually interesting and enjoyable in their own way (although Camerahead and Pistonhead are just awful; far too cheesy for their own good). The ridiculousness of some of the violence is kind of amusing, and the goopy special effects are mostly as convincing as you'd like them to be. While there is some terrible acting throughout the affair, there are also a couple of comparatively strong performances. Doug Bradley seems to be having fun chewing up the scenery as this new interpretation of his iconic character. While his work here isn't exactly good, I don't think it's really - or, at least, exclusively - his fault considering that the script really does shaft him. Paula Marshall actually does really well considering this was her first movie. She isn't delivering Oscar-worthy work, but she certainly outperforms her co-stars and is believable in her role (which sadly falls by the wayside after a certain point; a shame considering the character is one of the picture's most interesting).

Ultimately this is a real disappointment. It's a terrible sequel and a below average film. There are some things to like about it and it does provide some limited entertainment, but it lacks any real semblance of substance or style and is fairly dull overall.

This interview with Sean Chapman is appropriately named, because the actor is unafraid to say how he really feels about 'Hellbound: Hellraiser II (1988)'. After discussing how he got involved with the project, Chapman openly talks about how he doesn't think the movie is as creative as the original and how it veers more into slasher territory (which he uses derogatorily) when it comes to his character. He also recalls not really receiving any direction as it was expected he'd play the character in the same way he had done previously. It's true that Frank isn't developed at all during his cameo appearance and he's very much a snarling monster, but what did the actor expect when he got the script and read his only scene? Still, it's refreshing to see his honesty when it comes to the success of the sequel. He doesn't sound particularly malicious and seems to have had an amicable time during production, even though he does claim that his experience made it clear he no longer wanted to be associated with any future sequels. One thing he does like, and is eager to bring up, is that - unlike in the first film - his vocal track was used this time. Good for him, I guess. Ultimately, this is a fun interview because of how unafraid Chapman is to say how he really feels, even if it seems a little out of place on the Arrow boxset considering it's a collector's item meant for people who presumably like the movies within it.

This informal interview with Doug Bradley is focused on the actor's time playing Pinhead in 'Hellbound: Hellraiser II (1988)'. He talks in relaxed fashion about getting involved with the sequel, the process of applying and removing the required make-up and his understanding of a few rumoured occurrences (such as the time a harsh critic of the first film was cornered by Clive Barker during a visit to set and berated for belittling a British horror movie). A lot of the chat is dedicated to describing a scene which wasn't included in the any cut of the film but appeared in still form on the back of the unrated release, giving fans the impression it was too disturbing even to be included on that extended version. The truth is that it was abandoned during production for practical reasons and much of it was never shot (the scene actually appears on the latest Arrow release but has 'scene missing' cards where the incomplete footage would have gone). While interesting, this isn't engrossing enough to be worthy of such a big chunk of the conversation; it means that there isn't time for a deeper dive into other aspects of production. In general, the interview is very cursory and only gives an overview of certain areas of production. You get the sense that Bradley is fairly fond of the movie, but he never truly gets into how he feels about certain things and I wish he was a little more candid at times. Still, it's an entertaining behind-the-scenes peek into what it takes to portray a horror icon in his second appearance.

'Being Frank: Sean Chapman on Hellraiser (2015)' is an honest interview with the actor who portrayed Frank in 'Hellraiser (1987)'. Chapman has no qualms with telling the sometimes brutal truth, something which becomes more apparent in the counterpart to this that discusses 'Hellbound: Hellraiser II (1988)', and it's refreshing to see an open chat with someone who just seems like a normal, down-to-earth guy. He covers quite a wide range of topics, beginning with how he first got involved with the film and moving on to his experiences during production. He shares a few insightful stories and generally seems to enjoy the movie in which he appeared (as well as his memories making it). The piece allows him to talk for quite a while when answering the questions, which allows him to naturally find his way to moments he deems insightful to share. One sticking point for him is the fact that the filmmakers opted to dub his performance with another actor, likely - it seems to me - so that there would be more consistency between Frank in his skinned and unskinned forms (either that or it was done during the movie's late-game setting swap from England to some vaguely American location). Chapman clearly believes the removal of his original track flattens the character, and feels as though his voicework brought to life some of the grey morality that drew him to the character in the first place. It's interesting that the voice isn't his, as I always assumed it was him dubbing the two versions of Frank, and I do agree that the character's voice sometimes seems a little one-note. Nevertheless, he doesn't seem too bitter about it (even if he mentions it a couple of times) and he doesn't let it dampen what otherwise seems like a brief but enjoyable experience. Having such a detailed chat with a relatively smaller player is a really intriguing idea and it's a lot of fun to see. It's informal, loose and highlights how these iconic movies really are created by regular people. It's a solid interview with plenty of nice tidbits for fans of the film it focuses on.

Although it's undeniably not very in-depth, this relatively brief talking-head documentary offers a peek behind the curtain of 'Hellraiser (1987)'. 'Hellraiser: Resurrection (2000)' presents an insight into the iconic movie's conception, production and reception, featuring interviews from a variety of people who worked on it. The interviewees sometimes only appear for what feels like a few seconds; I would have loved to have heard more from each and every one of them. However, it's nice to get a few words from people often overlooked in this sort of behind-the-scenes stuff. Along the way, we're treated to excerpts from the source novel (read by Doug Bradley himself) and conceptual sketches by Clive Barker. We also get a look at some of the make-up effects in the workshop, along with a discussion of how the actors felt about the process of having them applied, and a nearly shot-by-shot breakdown of the iconic reforming sequence. There are some nice tidbits included in here and the people who appear are unafraid to voice their true feelings (it's not like any of them have anything bad to say about the piece or their time working on it, but some of them are open about their fatigue with discussing that part of their lives or their discomfort with the make-up process they were required to undergo). We also get a bit of a nod towards the often overlooked Christopher Young, whose score includes one of the best horror movie themes of all time. Even though he doesn't go into his process, it's a treat to see him included here. That's pretty much what it's like for everyone involved: it's nice to see them even though they don't actually say all that much. The overall experience is competently put together and is enjoyable for its duration. It isn't particularly informative, but it is interesting.

This interview with Doug Bradley, the actor who portrays Pinhead in 'Hellraiser (1987)', is relatively cursory overview of what it was like to appear in an iconic horror movie. Shot in a relaxed, talking-head fashion, Bradley talks about various aspects of production, with a large focus being on the experience of undergoing six hours of make-up each morning. He talks about his time on set with fondness, and he answers each unheard question in a fair amount of detail. It's clear he has respect for the franchise he helped make so iconic, and a particular love for the first entry. He alludes at various times to the decreasing level of quality the series is quite openly known for, without airing out any dirty laundry or anything like that. He seems like an amiable fellow, and the chat has the same sort of vibe you might expect from an encounter at a fan expo. However, the interview doesn't really get into the nitty gritty aspects of the production of 'Hellraiser (1987)', primarily because it's only twelve minutes long. It's good enough for what it is, though, and is an enjoyable glance behind the scenes of a brilliant horror movie. It's also really nice to see Bradley out of costume, and his appearance here dispels any notion that he may be as mean as his pain-provoking character.

Originally slated to be directed by Guy Ritchie, Matthew Vaughn's feature debut retains its expected feel despite its change of director. 'Layer Cake (2004)' is the typical slightly twisty, stylishly achieved, fast-and-loose London gangster flick that you'd expect from the former director, but it's somewhat of an oddity coming from the latter. It doesn't really feel like a film from the twisted mind of the man behind 'Argylle (2024)'. However, it has all the hallmarks that would come to define his career, chief among them a confident sense of style that permeates the entire experience. There are a lot of unconventional choices being made within a fairly conventional framework and it's all rather fun to see. The narrative is occasionally somewhat confusing, centred around a series of reveals mostly conveyed by people talking about other people whose names we haven't quite put to their faces by the time they depart the piece for good. It's not incomprehensible, though, and it certainly all makes sense. It's always entertaining, often surprisingly so, and it isn't negatively affected by its occasionally obscured storytelling. It helps that the flick moves at a zippy pace and constantly strikes the right balance between sincerity and self-awareness. It also helps that its cast are all really enjoyable in their roles, no matter how small those roles may be. The movie is reportedly what landed Daniel Craig his signature part of James Bond, and it's easy to see how his proficiency in portraying a suave, suit-wearing drug dealer would prove that he could portray a suave, suit-wearing secret agent. He gives a strong central performance that balances cool with can't catch a break, and he rises above the sometimes monotonous delivery of his narration with some stand-out moments that bring more humanity to his constantly calculating character. Colm Meany, George Harris and Michael Gambon are the highlights of the supporting cast, but you can't discount the one-step-above cameos of Sally Hawkins, Dexter Fletcher, Tom Hardy, Sienna Miller, Ben Whishaw and Burn Gorman. Ultimately, although it starts to stall a little towards the end of its second act and it sometimes tries to be too clever for its own good, this is an entertaining crime drama that's visually interesting and nicely acted. Its ending is also subversive in all the right ways. It's a really solid effort.

Although it's aesthetically similar to 'Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)', 'Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga (2024)' is a different beast entirely when it comes to its narrative. Structurally, tonally and even viscerally distinct from its predecessor, this revenge epic has a much less frenetic atmosphere than you may expect. At times, it's almost serene. With an episodic format that splits the story into vignettes (more so than even its five chapter breaks would suggest), the feature depicts the origin of its eponymous badass while also widening the world that surrounds her. Indeed, much of the movie is dedicated to world building rather than propulsive action, but that's not to imply that there are a lack of set-pieces. In fact, pretty much the whole movie is a set-piece; even the simplest of lore-extending scenarios are told with such striking visual grandeur that you'll practically be drooling for the film's entire duration. Plus, there are several more traditional yet utterly jaw-dropping action scenes - including a meticulous fifteen-minute War Rig defence that may just be the movie's highlight. It's difficult to describe how epic even the most intimate moments of the affair feel, and the budget has been put to fantastic use to set this relatively small-stakes story amidst a backdrop of bizarre post-apocalyptic societies and ruthless wasteland power struggles. There's so much depth to each and every aspect here, and most of it is conveyed entirely visually (Furiosa herself probably only has about the same amount of dialogue as the notoriously quiet protagonist of 'Mad Max 2 (1981)'). Anya Taylor-Joy brings a palpable determination to the role, her eyes telling a story of long-burning pain and quiet desperation, and Alyla Browne holds her own as the younger version of the character (the transition between the two actors is so seamless it's hard to actually pinpoint the exact moment it occurs*). The most showy role in the flick definitely goes to Chris Hemsworth, whose Dr. Dementus is a verbose maniac with just enough depth and charisma that his evil nature is almost too easy to downplay - especially in a world in which decency seems to have died a long time ago. He's a really entertaining villain, and it's enjoyable to see a new faction in the wasteland rather than just expanding on the one we've seen before (Immortan Joe and his blindly loyal War Boys). While I personally don't think it drags or anything, the movie is arguably a little too long. However, it's also arguably too short. It kind of acts as a 'greatest hits' of its hero's life, starting when she's a child and finishing just before her actions at the beginning of 'Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)'. As such, there's a lot of stuff that gets glossed over - or, rather, skipped entirely - so that the movie can maintain its purposefully elliptical pacing. A lot of the stuff that it moves past feels like it would be really interesting, so I kind of wish it was fleshed out more and maybe the film was done as a two-parter. I know that's technically a criticism, but it's also kind of a compliment. After all, it's not often you wish a picture was longer, let alone split into two parts, which should indicate just how successful George Miller's effort is. The feature truly is spectacular, an exceptional epic with almost unparalleled aesthetic beauty and pristine direction of the highest order. It's wonderfully weird for a blockbuster, and I really hope it does well enough for Warner Bros. To greenlight another trip to the wasteland. While I don't like it as much as 'Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)', it's just as sturdy and substantial. Because it's so different, it doesn't even require a direct comparison. It's great.

*the use of AI to achieve this effect is somewhat disturbing, but it's unclear exactly how the tool was used (i.e. To help a human artist or to replace one) so I'm not confident in fully condemning it just yet.

'Rabbit Hood (1949)' may be somewhat light on the zany sight gags, but it more than makes up for it with the various ways Bugs Bunny manages to outwit the Sheriff of Nottingham after he catches the rabbit trying to pinch one of the King's carrots. The short has several classic Bugs reversals - in fact, it's essentially a string of these gags that escalate in embarrassment for the Sheriff - and it's a really fun time. It's amusing on more than one occasion and has a bright, bouncy aesthetic that nicely counteracts the generally more 'grounded' humour. It's a little brutal on occasion, too, as it isn't afraid to show its hero getting violent to avoid the rack. It's perhaps a tad repetitive and its final gag isn't as satisfying as it could have been, although it is enjoyable on a more meta level. Still, it's a really good effort that will keep you smiling throughout.

'Knighty Knight Bugs (1958)' is the only Bugs Bunny short to win an Oscar. It's nothing especially special when compared to other films featuring the rascally rabbit. However, it's still an entertaining experience with several enjoyable sight gags and an amusing central premise that sees Bugs take on Yosemite Sam in Arthurian England. Most of the short features the former holding up in a castle while the latter unsuccessfully attempts to siege the place so that he can get back the sword that has been stolen from him. It doesn't have the strongest of narrative drives and its gags are sometimes a little weak, but there are a handful of funny moments that elevate the piece from its initially somewhat humdrum status. To be fair, that status might be based entirely on the bias that comes when watching something that's been deemed worthy of an Oscar; it creates an unfair expectation that this is going to be something truly special. If you don't hold it to too high a standard, the short is undeniably no less successful than most of its 'Looney Tunes' peers (and is actually better than a lot of them). It's an entertaining, chucklesome effort that remains fun for its duration.

'Robin Hood Daffy (1958)' casts Daffy duck as the titular folk hero and has him try to prove his identity to a mocking Friar Tuck, as played by Porky Pig. It's part of that era in which its protagonist isn't so much a manic, mischievous trickster as a hopelessly down-on-his-luck, perpetually trying-to-prove-himself sap. The short is dripping with unmistakably Chuck Jones style, with distinctly sharp character designs and zippy movements that lend a specific rhythm to the slapstick. It is, in essence, a one-joke short, but the variations of that joke never cease to be at least somewhat amusing. It's not the best 'Looney Tunes' of its kind, primarily because it isn't as visually inventive or packed with wall-to-wall sight gags. Its ending is satisfying, but it's slightly too abrupt for my liking. However, this is a more-than-solid effort overall that keeps you smiling throughout. It's fun and aesthetically pleasing.