movie reviews by PvtCaboose91

After Ridley Scott's polarising Alien prequels that strayed from the franchise's formula with its philosophical and religious undertones, 2024's Alien: Romulus is a safe, generic return to the Alien universe, with director Fede Alvarez (Don't Breathe, 2013's Evil Dead remake) fundamentally creating a glorified, big-budget fan film. Instead of another instalment with tenuous links to the existing movies, Alien: Romulus takes place between the events of Alien and Aliens, and it contains direct ties to 2012's Prometheus and the 1979 classic that first introduced movie-goers to the iconic Xenomorphs. With a screenplay by Alvarez and frequent collaborator Rodo Sayagues, the picture meaningfully and respectfully contributes to the franchise without any bone-headed subversions or character assassinations, and the superb visual presentation favours tangibility and realism over excessive digital effects. What the movie lacks is empathetic and relatable characters to make viewers care about the proceedings, while the story recycles too many elements from previous Alien pictures. Consequently, Romulus comes alive in places, but Alvarez cannot stick the landing.


An orphan who works at the mining colony of Jackson's Star, Rain (Cailee Spaeny) maintains a close relationship with her adoptive brother, a reprogrammed android named Andy (David Jonsson). After hitting a setback when the company extends her contract by several years, she seeks to escape the colony, agreeing to accompany her ex-boyfriend, Tyler (Archie Renaux), on an expedition to retrieve cryonic stasis equipment from a derelict Weyland-Yutani craft in deep space. Retrieving the chambers will allow them to make the prolonged voyage to a safer world. Also among the crew are Kay (Isabela Merced), Bjorn (Spike Fearn), and Navarro (Aileen Wu), while Andy's interface with computer systems is crucial to ensure the mission's success. After docking with the space station, the crew swiftly get to work, but they inadvertently awaken dozens of frozen facehuggers, triggering an automatic lockdown. With the station set to collide with Jackson's planetary rings and the Xenomorph threat continuing to evolve, the crew begin a fight for survival.

With a beefy two-hour runtime, Romulus takes too long to get started and too long to end, as the picture lacks compelling storytelling and a pronounced three-act structure. The most significant subplot involves the character of Andy, whose prime directive is updated to ensure the completion of the company's mission, taking commands from the station's damaged android officer. It's a conceptually interesting angle, but it is not always engaging. Unfortunately, Romulus needs more originality, as it plays out like a "greatest hits" compilation of the original Alien movies. Alvarez incorporates the franchise's most iconic and recognisable elements like the pulse rifle (now with aiming assistance), the Weyland-Yutani corporation, facehuggers, chestbursters, an alien hive with human hosts in the walls, another android, and more. The opening credits use the same font as the original Alien, and the script recycles the ticking clock from Aliens, right down to a robotic voice to remind the characters that time is running out. Furthermore, Romulus recreates iconic shots and set pieces, including a climactic showdown on a ship after the danger is ostensibly over (reminiscent of Aliens). But the most egregious and cringe-worthy moment involves a character repeating the line "Get away from her, you bitch" without sufficient motivation or logic. Nevertheless, Romulus does feature some fresh ideas - it builds upon the conclusion of Alien, and it helps to expand the lore in intriguing ways without upsetting the franchise canon. But considering that Alvarez is a proclaimed fan of the Dark Horse Comics line of Aliens books, which are full of inventive story ideas, it is a shame that the narrative of Romulus is so derivative.


The worst sin of Alien: Romulus is the characters. Although the actors put in a lot of effort and submit confident performances, it is hard to care about and root for these people as they range from mildly annoying to highly irritating, and interpersonal conflicts make them all the more insufferable. Whereas the cast of the original Alien were intelligent characters who made well-informed decisions that did not always work out, Romulus features mostly idiotic characters making dumb decisions, reminiscent of a low-grade '80s slasher flick. The script tries to use Kay's pregnancy to make her more sympathetic, but without any further personality or distinctive character traits, it is still difficult to care, and names barely stick beyond Rain and Andy. In fact, I honestly forgot how many characters were on the mission despite the relatively small cast due to the lack of beefy characterisation and the forgettable dialogue. Especially in comparison to the colourful cast of Aliens (with Michael Biehn, Bill Paxton, Lance Henriksen and Paul Reiser, to name a few), the characters in Romulus look even worse. Alvarez wanted to use youthful characters in this story from the outset, but this decision is to the film's detriment since the ensemble lacks the gravitas of an experienced actor to anchor the story. Rising star Cailee Spaeny makes the biggest impression here, bringing credible intensity and emotion to the role, but the writing unfortunately lets her down.

Its story and character issues aside, Romulus undeniably excels as a technical exercise. Taking its cues from the original Alien movies, Alvarez takes great care to recreate its predecessors' grimy, low-tech aesthetic, making the picture look like a lavish sci-fi production from the '70s or '80s. The results are gorgeous, with everything from the cinematography, colour grading, lighting, costume and art design looking spot-on, while the use of practical creature effects and miniatures further solidifies the illusion. Although shot digitally by cinematographer Galo Olivares (2020's Gretel & Hansel), the picture carries the aesthetic appearance of a celluloid production instead of a slick contemporary blockbuster. Even Benjamin Wallfisch's score reuses cues and motifs created by Jerry Goldsmith and James Horner, but it still feels sufficiently original instead of outright derivative. Luckily, Alvarez is an exceptional cinematic craftsman, staging intense set pieces and unnerving, terrifying sequences of visceral horror, with the director taking most of his inspiration from the original Alien and the Alien: Isolation video game. Admittedly, however, many notable moments simply recreate scenes from earlier Alien pictures, and Romulus is surprisingly light on alien-centric set pieces for a two-hour movie. Worse, Alvarez becomes too reliant on digital effects during the third act, and the climactic showdown with a hybrid creature is incredibly silly, closing the picture on a disappointing note.


Despite its exceptional technical presentation and pleasing reverence for its predecessors, Alien: Romulus falls short of reaching its full potential. However, there are highlights when Alvarez displays impressive innovation, including a zero-gravity action scene that showcases the characters being surprisingly resourceful for once. Alvarez also makes the most of the R rating, staging gory and icky moments of horror that hit hard, including one gruesome moment involving Kay towards the film's climax that reportedly even made the actors wince. The creature horror is top-notch, making it all the more disappointing that Romulus comes up short in other areas. Nevertheless, it is a thrill to experience the memorable sights and sounds of the Alien franchise once again, and this instalment is undoubtedly superior to Alien: Resurrection and the theatrical cut of Alien 3.

5.8/10

In a Violent Nature is an ingenious idea for a short horror movie that, unfortunately, begins to fall apart as a 90-minute feature film in the hands of writer-director Chris Nash. A throwback slasher horror flick, In a Violent Nature is Nash's feature-film debut after several short movie credits, including a segment for 2014's ABCs of Death 2. Nash essentially blends the conventions and archetypes of classic '80s backwoods slasher films (think Just Before Dawn, Madman, Friday the 13th and its sequels, or any other comparable production), but filters the story's events through the perspective of the unstoppable killer behemoth responsible for the massacring. It's a slow-burn approach that requires patience and endurance, though there are visceral highlights that genre enthusiasts will appreciate...if they can stick with it for long enough. By design, it is not scary or suspenseful, with the picture primarily amounting to a Jason Voorhees-type killer trudging through the forest and occasionally doing something interesting.


In a rural backwoods forest, a group of friends discovers a golden locket hanging inside the remnants of a fire tower. One of the men steals the necklace, but this awakens the corpse of Johnny (Ry Barrett), who promptly begins a killing rampage to retrieve the item. Unable to find the locket, he wanders around the area and eventually encounters a group of young people sitting around a campfire, one of whom recounts the urban legend about Johnny. Johnny is the developmentally delayed son of a local merchant, and he was killed after falling from the top of the fire tower during a prank gone wrong. Locals attribute a series of murders in the area to Johnny's vengeful spirit, though nobody in the group actually believes the legend. However, after returning to their cabin for the night, Johnny commences his killing spree, determined to retrieve the locket that was gifted to him by his mother. With Johnny murdering members of the group one by one, they eventually realise that something is wrong and desperately set out to find assistance.

Nash presents the film in a unique, matter-of-fact style, making it feel more like a nature documentary since it does not feature any music or visual flourishes. The resulting sense of atmosphere is incredibly effective at times, particularly with the layered soundscape of the woods, and it is occasionally interesting to watch Johnny's methodical methods. Several conventional kill scenarios are accounted for here, from somebody getting killed while taking a leak on a tree in the dark to another victim meeting their fate while swimming in a lake. There's a satiric energy to such sequences, and the gore effects are top-notch, with Nash never holding back during the most vicious and nihilistic murders. With a mix of practical effects and subtle digital trickery, the kills look exceptional, with modern filmmaking technology allowing for the type of uncomfortably realistic murders that '80s slashers could not achieve with limited financing and resources. Furthermore, the crisp cinematography by Pierce Derks is consistently eye-catching, with sturdy handheld camerawork as Johnny lurches from place to place. Aside from a few missteps (it is a shame the camera doesn't follow Johnny underwater when he enters the lake; this feels like a missed opportunity), the arthouse-esque stylistic approach to In a Violent Nature is breathtaking, particularly with the decision to present the film in the 1.33:1, full-frame aspect ratio.


Despite a mostly strong first half, the picture tapers off during the second half before ending on a tragically anticlimactic note. Unfortunately, Nash continues to rely on slow, methodical pacing during the second half instead of generating a more pronounced sense of momentum, while dumb character behaviours grow more prevalent and difficult to ignore. One protracted kill sequence even gets boring - a dismemberment involving a log splitter that drags on way too long, resulting in boredom and dead air instead of visceral thrills. In a Violent Nature eventually leaves Johnny's side and switches focus to the final girl, but the subsequent conversation in a car is highly disinteresting, closing the movie with a whimper instead of a bang, leaving room wide open for the already-announced sequel. The decision to abandon the original intent and change perspectives right at the end feels baffling instead of logical.

None of the actors make much of an impression, though Barrett is pitch-perfect as the tall, imposing killer who never speaks a word, effectively creating a character through movement and body language. It is perhaps by design, but some of the victims are so obnoxiously unlikeable that it is satisfying to watch them meet their brutal end. Indeed, Nash relishes the chance to embrace genre clichés and showcase his reverence for slasher classics - Johnny even wears an old fireman mask reminiscent of My Bloody Valentine. Although the time period is unclear, the lack of cell phones or contemporary technology suggests a '70s or '80s setting, meaning the victims cannot easily call for help. Although a valiant attempt to inject fresh life into the slasher genre, In a Violent Nature is more dull than tense or unnerving, with Nash unable to take full advantage of the innovative premise.

5.1/10

Despite the inherent creepiness of arachnids, spider horror movies are surprisingly rare, with 1990's Arachnophobia remaining the most noteworthy and memorable. A low-budget spider monster movie from Australia, 2024's Sting confidently enters the genre arena, mixing in a splash of science fiction with its giddy giant-spider-from-outer-space premise. Instead of a trashy, B-grade offering resembling a Syfy original movie, Sting is a serious-minded genre entry, with writer-director Kiah Roache-Turner (Wyrmwood: Road of the Dead) creating the type of movie that will likely give arachnophobes nightmares. It's not memorable or genre-defining, but Sting is an astonishingly competent fright fest with slick, shadowy visuals and top-notch creature effects, ensuring it is a worthwhile watch for genre aficionados.


In a dilapidated Brooklyn apartment block, twelve-year-old Charlotte (Alyla Browne) lives with her mother, Heather (Penelope Mitchell), and stressed-out stepfather, Ethan (Ryan Corr), who also works as the building's maintenance guy. Ethan tries to connect to Charlotte by collaborating with her on a comic book, but the teenager remains isolated and moody in the wake of her parents' divorce. After a mysterious object crash-lands into the apartment building, Charlotte discovers a tiny spider resembling a redback, and she decides to keep it as a pet in a jar, naming her "Sting" after eying a copy of J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit on her bookshelf. Charlotte feeds Sting cockroaches that she catches around the apartment, but the spider's appetite continues to grow, along with her size and ferocity, putting the residents in considerable danger.

Sting entirely takes place within the confines of the apartment building, with a vicious snowstorm compelling the residents to stay indoors. An ensemble of interesting neighbours adds colour to the proceedings, including a convenient spider enthusiast in Erik (Danny Kim), though Jermaine Fowler is the most entertaining and energetic as a visiting exterminator, Frank. The cast mostly features Australian performers espousing American accents, but none-the-wiser viewers will likely assume that the actors are U.S. natives because the performances are effortlessly convincing. As the rebellious young Charlotte, Alyla Browne (Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga) is incredibly believable, submitting a compelling performance with pep, spirit and tangible emotional depth. Alongside her, Ryan Corr is charming and empathetic, while Noni Hazelhurst provides further personality as the forgetful Helga. Roache-Turner endeavours to add dimension to the story by delving into familial dramas, but the effort does not always pay off, with the movie becoming less interesting when dealing with these subplots. More successful are Charlotte and Ethan's creative comic book pursuits.


Even though production took place in Australia, the sense of time and place is enormously authentic. In addition to the impressive performances, the spot-on production design convincingly captures the distinct aesthetic of old NYC apartment buildings. After embracing zany campiness with his Wyrmwood pictures, Roache-Turner aims for a darker tone here without neglecting an all-important sense of fun. Sting features unsettling kill scenes and atmospheric moments of Sting hunting in the dark, but it is also enjoyable watching Charlotte prepare for battle by preparing moth ball water in a super soaker, resulting in a visual homage to Aliens. Hell, the director even throws in a fun homage to The Terminator during the climax for good measure. The special effects are genuinely impressive, with the wizards at Wētā Workshop using terrific practical effects (specifically puppets) with seamless digital effects enhancements to bring the titular beast to life on-screen. The illusion is immaculate, while gory make-up and prosthetic effects further enhance the sense of unease - this is not a movie for the faint of heart. Wisely, Roache-Turner frequently keeps Sting hidden during the shadowy set pieces, relying on sound design, the claustrophobic setting, and the omnipresent threat that she might attack at any time to generate bone-chilling tension.

Thanks to its reliance on practical effects, Sting feels like the right kind of throwback monster movie, feeling more like an entertaining genre offering from the '70s or '80s than a modern, CGI-laden horror flick. It's fun and often funny, while Roache-Turner also adds emotional complexities to the story by exploring themes of isolation and neglect, with Charlotte using the spider to fill her void of loneliness as she yearns for a genuine connection. Furthermore, Roache-Turner shows great affection for the horror genre through references and Easter eggs without weaving something that feels detrimentally derivative. The script is not airtight, as characters sometimes make bone-headed decisions, but Sting gets more right than wrong.

6.6/10

Perhaps the most accessible film written and directed by the iconoclastic Jim Jarmusch (Mystery Train, Dead Man), 1999's Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai is an enthrallingly original and incredibly cool crime drama with intriguing characters and thematic underpinnings. Taking inspiration from classic mafia films and samurai pictures, Jarmusch superimposes ancient samurai values and codes onto a contemporary tale about a lonely mob assassin in Jersey City, exploring modern alienation and isolation in big cities. It's an engrossing mixture of philosophical contemplation and brutal violence, with Jarmusch breathing superb stylistic life into the relatively standard-order plot. However, do not watch Ghost Dog expecting a fast-paced, shoot-'em-up action flick, as it is more meditative than energetic, with the shootouts feeling perfunctory and sedate instead of exhilarating.


A contract killer for the local mafia, Ghost Dog (Forest Whitaker) lives in a shack on the roof of an empty building and adheres to the code of the samurai, applying wisdom from Yamamoto Tsunetomo's warrior manual Hagakure: The Book of the Samurai. Without a computer or telephone, he only communicates through homing pigeons, accepting assignments from a low-level Italian mobster, Louie (John Tormey), who saved Ghost Dog's life several years earlier. Ghost Dog follows Louie's orders by assassinating a local gangster, but the hit is complicated by the presence of Louise (Tricia Vessey), the daughter of mob boss Vargo (Henry Silva), who witnesses the murder. Fearing that loose ends will implicate them in the murder, Vargo and fellow gangster Sonny Valerio (Cliff Gorman) put out a contract on Ghost Dog despite nobody knowing what he looks like. With the lives of Ghost Dog and Louie in jeopardy, the hitman resolves to kill Vargo and his men.

In between his violent pursuits, Ghost Dog develops a tender friendship with a young girl, Pearline (Camille Winbush), who also likes to read, and he frequently visits his best friend, a French-speaking ice cream vendor named Raymond (Isaach de Bankolé). Even though Raymond and Ghost Dog do not speak the same language and cannot understand what the other is saying, they still manage to communicate effectively. Additionally, Jarmusch infuses the picture with gallows humour and sharp wit, resulting in numerous unexpected moments of hilarity. Notable scenes include overweight Italian mobsters being so out of breath after scaling some stairs that they can barely function during a hit, and one elderly crime boss suffering a fatal heart attack before Ghost Dog has the chance to shoot him. Another amusing moment involves Ghost Dog assassinating a mobster by shooting him through a sink drain in a scene that homages Seijun Suzuki's 1967 film Branded to Kill.


Ghost Dog's narrative is not airtight, with strained logic and contrivance leading the mob to order the hit on Ghost Dog despite his obvious value as a gun-for-hire. Thankfully, however, the strength of Jarmusch's direction and the terrific performances compensate for any illogical or unbelievable moments. Ghost Dog is essentially a character study of the titular hitman, and the director makes seemingly mundane activities fascinating to observe. Jarmusch spends ample time giving the character genuine dimension as he interacts with others and reads ancient literature, with Louise even giving the assassin a copy of the book Rashōmon. Jarmusch emphasises Ghost Dog's adherence to the samurai code by displaying on-screen passages of Hagakure, with Whitaker reading them out via a calming voiceover.

Jarmusch created Ghost Dog specifically for Forest Whitaker, and it is the actor's defining performance. Preparation for the role included extensive research and meditation as the actor immersed himself in the character's world to spiritually connect to the material, resulting in a credible and engaging portrayal of the titular assassin. Ghost Dog is a cold-blooded killer, yet Whitaker emanates warmth and humanity, looking convincing as an assassin and as a gentle man who likes to read and eat ice cream, making it difficult to imagine any other actor playing this part. Ghost Dog's methodical approach to assassinations makes this a fascinating character who normally uses creative and stealthy methods to dispose of his targets, though he also acquits himself admirably when storming a mansion full of mafiosos. Jarmusch even underscores Ghost Dog's knowledge and reverence for ancient cultures by showing him confronting a pair of racist hunters on the side of the road who killed a bear. Other performances from the ensemble are equally effective, with the gangsters walking and talking like characters from The Sopranos or a Martin Scorsese movie.


Belying its meagre $2 million budget, Ghost Dog carries an outstanding visual gravitas, making it look more appealing than productions that cost three or four times as much. Jarmusch exudes an exceptional command of the material, perpetually maintaining interest despite the deliberately ponderous pace. Jarmusch keeps the action beats short, sharp, shocking, and violent, with practical blood squibs adding a visceral edge to these scenes. The director also appreciates the value of pauses and moments of silence - by design, this is not a high-energy action flick. Furthermore, with production taking place in New Jersey, Ghost Dog is thick on atmosphere, with every location feeling wholly authentic instead of manufactured or phoney. The gorgeously stylish 35mm cinematography (courtesy of acclaimed Dutch cinematographer Robby Müller) further contributes to the breathtaking sense of atmosphere, as nothing feels like the work of green screen, soundstages or obvious digital trickery. RZA's accompanying hip-hop-infused original score and other soundtrack choices (including reggae songs) add another layer to Jarmusch's distinctive audiovisual approach to the production, ensuring that Ghost Dog feels like something far more than a disposable, run-of-the-mill B-movie. Although fundamentally an arthouse movie, Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai does not feel like drab homework.

8.8/10

The Emu War is a one-joke movie painfully stretched to a taxing 70 minutes. Lacking comedic rhythm and genuine wit, it plays out like a series of cheap, improvised YouTube skits, relishing in the juvenile jokes, bargain-basement digital effects, obvious puppetry, painful overacting, and lack of overall production value; as a result, the concept wears thin and becomes tiresome by the ten-minute mark. With three credited directors (John Campbell, Lisa Fineberg, and Jay Morrissey), The Emu War is in on the joke from the first frame, with the actors all consistently mugging the camera while the filmmakers make no effort to conceal the minuscule budget. Despite somehow securing a limited theatrical release, the movie never looks or feels like a proper theatrical feature; instead, it looks microbudget and lazy, with tone-deaf performances and consistently lazy humour. It brings back uncomfortable memories of horrendous spoof films like Disaster Movie and Meet the Spartans.


In 1932, the Australian Army executed a military operation to cull emus following concerns about the number of birds destroying crops in Western Australia. The "Emu War" is an actual historical event, and the internet has become obsessed with the inherent silliness of this moment in history, especially since the emus technically won. Instead of a historically accurate retelling of the real-life event, The Emu War is flat-out fiction, portraying the emus as gun-toting soldiers who engage in combat. The story, such as it is, involves four "elite" Australian Army soldiers who set out to battle the flightless birds, aiming to attack and kill the Queen Emu. Endless non-sequiturs stem from this premise, with flashbacks and other nonsensical goings-on, including a highly uncomfortable orgy scene. It's all incredibly stupid, but the directors evidently know how idiotic and unfunny the material is; they ostensibly hope that viewers will laugh ironically because of how lowbrow, lazy, and unfunny each gag is.

There is merit to the concept of using the true-life Emu War as the basis for a farcical comedy, but the approach and execution are entirely wrong-headed because the humour is far too broad and over-the-top. A more interesting approach would be to play things entirely straight, portraying the emus as serious military minds who plan and strategise their attacks, and recover in the aftermath of a battle. The Emu War perpetually squanders potentially successful comedic set-ups with its lowbrow humour; every piece of dialogue feels improvised, making one wonder how much work credited screenwriter Jonathan Schuster actually did. The film uses real-life Australian personalities in a desperate attempt at humour, with characters like Ned Kelly (Harry Tseng), Prime Minister Harold Holt (Cameron James), and Burke and Wills (Colwyn Buckland and Filip Lescaut), who appear as homosexual conjoined twins to illustrate the depths of the script's comedic thinking. However, the film does nothing interesting or witty with these characters, instead relying on puerile, unfunny toilet humour.


Although the costumes and props are admittedly impressive, and the use of practical puppets for the emus is a cute touch, the rest of the movie is a total bust from a technical perspective. The digital effects are atrocious, but the directors erroneously believe the woeful computer-generated imagery will provide additional laughs. Moments such as a 300-inspired action beat involving a soldier fighting emus with a sword are cringe-inducing and painful to watch, while green-screen effects are obvious and phoney. Additionally, David McKinnar's digital cinematography looks flat and lifeless; as a result, The Emu War truly looks like a series of YouTube skits instead of a slick theatrical comedy.

Perhaps the sheer awfulness of The Emu War will satisfy viewers who are drinking heavily with their friends and are easily amused - in fact, that seems to be the movie's target audience. The directors want viewers to laugh at the flick ironically due to its deliberately unfunny gags and awful CGI, but a "so bad it's good" comedy requires specific adeptness and sincerity. Indeed, Tommy Wiseau believed he was making a timeless, Oscar-worthy drama with The Room but accidentally created an enduring cult classic. By trying to make a comedy like Birdemic or The Room that is "so bad it's good," the directors miss the mark by a long shot - it's just really, really bad. At least The Emu War is harmless in its awfulness, which is about the only praise I can award it.

1.8/10

The directorial debut for veteran martial artist and actor Bren Foster, 2024's Life After Fighting is undeniably the best Australian martial arts movie in history, and it deserves wide recognition from global action buffs. Taking visible inspiration from seminal films like The Raid and John Wick with traces of Bruce Lee (think The Big Boss, Foster delivers thrilling, proficiently-staged action and a thoughtful story worth caring about, ensuring this is far more than just another humdrum, unremarkable action cheapie. Do not dismiss Life After Fighting as a nasty direct-to-video distraction; the movie confidently stands toe-to-toe with some of the genre's best offerings, representing a watershed moment for Australian action cinema. It is more thrilling, poignant and engaging than most big-budget blockbusters, making it all the more disappointing that it only received a limited theatrical release in Australia while going straight to streaming in other territories.


A retired martial artist, Alex (Bren Foster) now spends his time running and operating a fighting school, hoping to leave professional bouts behind him after multiple surgeries. Working alongside Julie (Annabelle Stephenson), Alex caters to various ages and abilities, which leads single mother Samantha (Cassie Howarth) to enrol her young son, Terry (Anthony Nassif), at the training centre. Alex and Samantha immediately hit it off, much to the ire of her ex-husband, Victor (Luke Ford). While Victor tries to intimidate Alex by sending hired muscle to disrupt the school, Julie's two daughters go missing in an apparent kidnapping, sparking a frantic search. Discovering that the abduction is linked to an international child trafficking operation, Alex is forced into a desperate battle for survival.

Life After Fighting does not live or die by its action sequences, as Foster understands the value of storytelling and characterisation to supplement the spectacle. The picture clocks in at a hefty 126 minutes, with most of the hardcore action scenes occurring during the third act. Foster demands patience as he develops the characters and establishes the stakes, ensuring sufficient emotional investment in the story before Alex goes toe-to-toe with multiple combatants in his school during the extended climax. The most significant plot detour involves a fellow martial artist, Arrio Gomez (Eddie Arrazola, who featured in the TV show The Last Ship alongside Foster), who endlessly tries to goad Alex into fighting him. Although ostensibly unnecessary, it successfully adds more dimension to Alex's character without detracting focus from the narrative, and it provides an excellent opportunity to show off the incredible fighting prowess of Foster and Arrazola. Miraculously, the dramatic build-up throughout Life After Fighting is never boring or dull, which is a testament to Foster's directorial capabilities, Paul Black's effective editing, and the terrific casting. Admittedly, the narrative's rudimentary components are not exactly original, and there are script contrivances to pave the way for the spectacular action-packed climax, but this hardly matters when the execution is so robust.


Once the climax arrives, it is a godsend for fans of violent martial arts cinema. Foster permits glimpses at Alex's fighting mastery throughout the feature's first two acts, but the climactic showdown lets him use lethal force against his opponents, resulting in a blast of exhilarating, adrenaline-pumping fun. There is no digital trickery here, nor is the footage sped up - the fights are all 100% real, with Foster and his experienced stunt team engaging in vicious, bone-breaking choreography that will impress even the most jaded movie-watchers. The brawls look visceral and authentic, making one wonder how many bruises and injuries the stunt team sustained during the shoot. Although Shane Parsons's slick cinematography is slightly shaky, the handheld approach successfully amplifies the intensity of the skirmishes without devolving into a routine of headache-inducing shaky cam or incoherent editing. (Such techniques are normally used to mask shoddy choreography, but Foster does not need to worry about this.) With filming at Foster's own martial arts school presumably saving on location costs, the movie delivers maximum bang on a small budget, never looking cheap or feeling constricted in terms of scope.

In addition to proving himself a fantastic screenwriter and filmmaker, Foster flexes rock-solid acting acumen here, demonstrating his competency as a dramatic performer to complement his exceptional fighting abilities. Foster is instantly likeable and brings convincing gravitas to the role, allowing the dramatic material to flourish between the action scenes. Foster has appeared as a supporting character in various films up until now (including two pictures with Steven Seagal), but Life After Fighting shows he has what it takes to be a bona fide action star. Alongside him, Cassie Howarth (late of Home and Away) provides outstanding eye candy and dramatic intensity, bringing an emotional depth to the character that is rarely seen in action movies. Annabelle Stephenson further contributes to the movie's emotional core, resulting in some almost unbearably heart-wrenching and harrowing scenes. Meanwhile, Luke Ford (Animal Kingdom, The Black Balloon) nails the role of the villainous Victor, creating an antagonistic character that is easy to despise from the very first frame, making it all the more satisfying to see him receive his comeuppance during the climax. Ford is virtually unrecognisable here - it is difficult to believe he is the same actor who played Alex O'Connell in 2008's The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor, which reflects the effectiveness of Ford's performance.


Life After Fighting tackles weighty themes like human trafficking and child kidnapping, with the movie's optimistic conclusion fundamentally representing a wish-fulfilment fantasy. However, the story does not feel exploitative or disrespectful, as Foster handles the subject matter with appropriate tact, adding harrowing emotional undercurrents that result in edge-of-your-seat, white-knuckle intensity. Life After Fighting is a brilliant directorial debut for Foster, and one can only imagine what he could deliver with a bigger budget and more resources - and, hell, it would be fun to see him team up with someone like Scott Adkins. If you like action flicks, do not miss this movie!!

7.7/10

A semi-fictitious World War II tale based on recently declassified documents, 2024's The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare is one of those can't-miss dream projects, and it also represents a godsend for old-school action fans. With a charming ensemble cast and Guy Ritchie at the helm, the movie concerns a real-life team of British military commandos who covertly operated behind enemy lines during WWII to kill Nazis, and one of the key members was reportedly Ian Fleming's inspiration for the character of James Bond. Instead of a stodgy historical retelling that feels like a glorified television movie, The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare is a wonderfully stylised, ultraviolent auteur effort that feels more like Sisu or Quentin Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds than a drab history lesson. It's Ritchie's most purely enjoyable endeavour since 2015's The Man from U.N.C.L.E., and although it is not deep or sophisticated, it is a proficient and enthralling ride, and the picture's incredible sense of energy rarely falters.


In 1941, Nazi Germany is gaining momentum in their attempt to conquer Europe, with submarines consistently disrupting the United Kingdom's supply lines by sinking their ships. Brigadier Colin Gubbins (Cary Elwes), a.k.a. "M," prepares an unofficial, black-ops sabotage mission known as Operation Postmaster, which aims to destroy an Italian supply ship and two accompanying tugboats that service, arm, and resupply Nazi U-boats in the Atlantic Ocean. With the indirect support of British Prime Minister Winston Churchill (Rory Kinnear), M and Naval Intelligence Officer Ian Fleming (Freddie Fox) enlist Gus March-Phillipps (Henry Cavill) to assemble a team of commandos capable of executing the operation. Setting off on a Swedish fishing trawler, Gus joins Anders Lassen (Alan Ritchson), Freddy Alvarez (Henry Golding), and Henry Hayes (Hero Fiennes Tiffin), who first rescue fellow comrade Geoffrey Appleyard (Alex Pettyfer) before changing course to the Spanish island of Fernando Po. Meanwhile, British agents Marjorie Stewart (Eiza González) and Richard Heron (Babs Olusanmokun) assist the operation on land by distracting Nazi commander Heinrich Luhr (Til Schweiger).

Several of the narrative's broad strokes are true, as the titular squad did carry out a mission known as Operation Postmaster, but viewers should not consider The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare an accurate account of history. It's a light-hearted, entertaining men-on-a-mission adventure, and Ritchie crams the picture with sharp, witty dialogue, stylish visuals, and riveting action sequences, and there is no weighty pretence to threaten the sense of fun. Indeed, Ritchie is content to make a straightforward action thriller with a splash of espionage, and he knows exactly what the target audience desires. Although Gus's band of ruffians represents the story's key focus, the movie also concentrates on Marjorie and Heron's spy antics and the political machinations on British soil as Churchill, M and Fleming coordinate the operation while maintaining utmost secrecy. Admittedly, Marjorie and Heron's activities are not as involving or fascinating, with the rip-roaring pace occasionally lagging when Ritchie cuts to the pair. However, this is a minor shortcoming.


Ritchie dialled back his recognisable filmmaking tendencies for his recent cinematic output (Wrath of Man, Operation Fortune, The Covenant), instead favouring a more traditional and mainstream approach, but The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare looks and feels like a Guy Ritchie movie through and through. Ritchie's distinct stylistic touches are on full display throughout the picture, with creative editorial choices and a flavoursome, jazzy, spaghetti western-esque original score by Christopher Benstead (The Gentlemen). Ritchie makes the most of the generous but not overwhelming $60 million budget, adding ample globe-trotting scope to the endeavour, ensuring the picture is lively and slick instead of uninteresting or low-budget. Although Ritchie uses convincing digital effects for bigger sequences involving ships, he mainly relies on practical sets and locations, while Ed Wild's cinematography is slick and eye-catching, resulting in an agreeable aesthetic. Additionally, the shootouts are incredibly entertaining, with Ritchie embracing the adult-friendly R rating and never pulling punches, but there is no sense of nihilism or cruelty to the violence as the tone remains agreeably light despite the immense body count. Ritchie arms the squad with a variety of weapons and quirks, with Anders rapidly dispatching Nazis using a bow and arrow while Gus takes whatever things he desires, including expensive cigars or the coat of a deceased Nazi officer.

Without enough time to properly develop each member of the ensemble, viewer interest in the characters fundamentally lives or dies by the casting, and The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare is a smashing success in this respect. The performers are endlessly charming, and each actor creates a distinct character, making it easy to tell them apart, even if names do not always stick. The perpetually reliable Henry Cavill once again demonstrates why he needs to be in more movies, emanating boundless charisma as the team's dashing leader. Embracing his native British accent, Cavill is brilliant as the Bond-esque Gus - the Bond producers undeniably missed a trick by not casting him as the iconic spy. But the scene-stealer is Alan Ritchson (from Amazon's Reacher TV show), who's larger-than-life and incredibly entertaining as a Danish naval officer, delivering ample laughs and highlights with his boundless comedic energy. The accent errs on the cartoonish side, but it feels in keeping with the picture's infectiously enjoyable tone. Also of note is Cary Elwes, who brings tremendous charm and gravitas to the role of Brigadier Gubbins, making him an obvious pick if the role of M is recast in future James Bond pictures. Meanwhile, as the brutal Nazi commander, Til Schweiger (who was in Inglourious Basterds) is in full Bond villain mode here to contrast against Cavill's suave Bond-esque performance. All the other actors confidently hit their marks, with Rory Kinnear turning in a hugely effective performance as Winston Churchill while Freddie Fox makes for a debonair and engaging Ian Fleming.


It never feels like any of the commandos are in genuine danger since they dispatch Nazis with sharp efficiency and precision, but the climax is sufficiently intense as the team completes the raid on Fernando Po while enemy soldiers and officers mingle nearby, leading to a narrow escape. The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare is another convincing win for Guy Ritchie, who delivers a rousing historical action adventure with cheeky wit and an irresistible, slick aesthetic, striking the perfect tone between mischievous and gritty. With studios consistently flooding the cinematic marketplace with big-budget blockbusters and comic-book adaptations, old-fashioned action films are all the more refreshing in 2024, especially when the execution is as terrific as this. A follow-up would be incredibly enticing, though the disappointing box office might spell death to any sequel plans, rendering this a delightful one-off that will probably develop into a fondly-remembered cult classic, much like Ritchie's The Man from U.N.C.L.E..

8.2/10