Reviews by PvtCaboose91

It is a challenging time to be a J.R.R. Tolkien fan, with Amazon's streaming series The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power coming across as poor, lifeless fanfiction that grossly mishandles the lore, showing no respect or reverence for the acclaimed source material. Competing with Amazon, 2024's The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim ostensibly ticks all the boxes to win back lapsed fans due to the involvement of Wētā Workshop as well as Lord of the Rings screenwriter Philippa Boyens, with the prequel adapting material from Tolkien's extensive appendices. (Peter Jackson's name is attached as an executive producer, but this is merely tokenistic; he only joined a few months before the film's release.) But instead of a lavish theatrical event worthy of Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings trilogy, The War of the Rohirrim - with a meagre $30 million budget - solely exists for New Line to retain the film rights to Tolkien's work, and it often feels like corporatised content. Furthermore, switching from live-action to animation is a shaky proposition, and the resulting picture looks and feels more like a straight-to-video animated movie (like the company's animated DC productions) than a grand theatrical event.


Taking place nearly 200 years before the War of the Ring, The War of the Rohirrim is the story of Helm Hammerhand (Brian Cox), the legendary king of Rohan. Helm has two sons, Haleth (Benjamin Wainwright) and Hama (Yazdan Qafouri), while his daughter, Héra (Gaia Wise), is rebellious and adventurous. Freca (Shaun Dooley), a Dunlending lord, visits Rohan's great hall to forcefully request that Héra marry Freca's son, Wulf (Luca Pasqualino). However, Héra is wholly uninterested in marrying Wulf, and Helm insults Freca, leading to a fight outside the hall that results in Freca's death from a single punch. Wulf vows revenge, departing Rohan for years and becoming the High Lord of the Dunlendings, a tribe of Wildmen who live on the plains of Dunlend. After Wulf invades Rohan, Héra evacuates the city, leading the people of Edoras to the stronghold of the Hornburg, where they intend to make their last stand against the Dunlendings.

Turning to the appendices to explore more stories within Middle-earth, the four credited screenwriters (Jeffrey Addiss, Will Matthews, Arty Papageorgiou, and Boyens's daughter, Phoebe Gittins) expand mere ideas into a complete narrative, moving away from Frodo, Bilbo and the One Ring to explore Rohan's past. The War of the Rohirrim is at its best during the first twenty minutes or so, with the screenplay closely adhering to the material from the appendices, down to Helm insulting Freca's weight. The first act also establishes how Helm earns his "Hammerhand" nickname in a highly badass moment, and Cox's vocal performance is exceptional, bringing regalness and authority to Rohan's great ruler. Unfortunately, the movie does not concentrate enough on Helm, relegating him to a supporting character in his own story. There are memorable highlights when Helm engages in combat, but the picture glosses over one particularly crucial moment in the third act, abruptly cutting to the aftermath of what should be a stirring extended battle featuring the legendary king fighting scores of Dunlendings.


The screenplay strives to recreate the style of dialogue from Tolkien's novels and the Lord of the Rings film trilogy, but this sometimes results in the movie straight-up copying dialogue ("His eye will be fixed on me") or conspicuously rewording iconic lines ("We will paint the dawn red"). The recycled dialogue is obvious to the point of distraction for die-hard fans of the trilogy. Additionally, The War of the Rohirrim's storytelling lacks gravitas, with the pace slowing down tremendously during the second half, making the 134-minute runtime sometimes feel like a slog. Unfortunately, Héra is not a sufficiently compelling protagonist, and it makes no sense for her to be smarter than the battle-hardened male warriors surrounding her. Plus, the narration positing that the old songs exclude Héra makes no logical sense as she is the narrative's key driving force, achieving more than her father. There is a groan-worthy, uneasy implication that Héra's gender resulted in her exclusion from tales and songs despite Middle-earth stories featuring numerous female characters (Elwing, Lúthien, Tar-Ancalimë, Aredhel, and so on).

Thankfully, pieces of The War of the Rohirrim do work, including the characters spreading rumours about Helm becoming a supernatural being and the climactic siege of the Hornburg. The picture connects to the Lord of the Rings trilogy with little touches that fans will appreciate, such as including two orcs (voiced by Billy Boyd and Dominic Monahan) searching for rings under orders from Mordor. Saruman the White also appears in a brief cameo, with the team using an archival recording of Christopher Lee's distinctive voice. Miranda Otto is another significant connection to the trilogy; her inclusion is among the movie's biggest assets. The narration is wonderfully poetic and involving, with Otto providing a spirited and involving vocal performance. Fortunately, the rest of the voice cast gives it their all, with British actor Luca Pasqualino giving Wulf an effective villainous edge while Gaia Wise is an engaging Héra. The material and pacing do not always serve the performers, but the cast makes a positive impression nevertheless.


The visual design of The War of the Rohirrim is striking, as the picture faithfully recreates locations, sets, creatures and costumes from the Lord of the Rings trilogy (old Wētā models were even used for reference), making it all the more disappointing that the movie is not live-action. However, the animated characters are not as successful, with the animation alternating between serviceable and extremely slipshod. The characters were brought to life through motion capture instead of rotoscoping, but character movements in some scenes look alarmingly unnatural and stiff. More than 60 companies worked on the animation to complete the picture on time, making the mixed quality somewhat unsurprising. Despite the release date delays ostensibly implying the filmmakers wanted the time to execute the film to the highest standard, it still looks incomplete at times, though it still does deliver some awe-inspiring visuals at times. Although the battles are not on the same level as the Peter Jackson films, director Kenji Kamiyama (Blade Runner: Black Lotus, Star Wars: Visions) executes a few fluid and exciting action beats, and it is undeniably thrilling to see Rohirrim soldiers battling the Dunlendings. However, even though the music by Stephen Gallagher (who was the music editor for the Hobbit trilogy) occasionally works, it, for the most part, sounds like a pale, uninspiring imitation of Howard Score's iconic compositions from The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit.

Hoping to cash in on the popularity of the still-popular Lord of the Rings films, The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim amounts to a mishmash of popular elements from the original trilogy, from a Rohirrim charge (complete with dialogue mirroring what Théoden said during the Battle of the Pelennor Fields) to a siege of Helm's Deep and the inclusion of familiar Middle-earth creatures, such as mûmakil, the eagles, Crebain from Dunlend, and a Watcher in the Water. However, although the prequel fills in some gaps and delivers a few worthwhile sequences, especially when revisiting familiar locations, it does not coalesce into a satisfying or emotionally stimulating whole, resulting in an uneven 134 minutes that struggles to maintain interest. For a movie about battle, it lacks urgency. The movie is simultaneously not as bad as fans might have feared, but it is not the masterpiece it had the potential to be.

6.0/10

For all intents and purposes, 2002's The Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course should not work, and the film's predominantly harsh critical reception reflects this notion. However, through an agreeable combination of its early-2000s charm and good-natured tone, the film works marvellously and has only improved with time. Collision Course is a feature-length expansion of Steve Irwin's The Crocodile Hunter television series, with director John Stainton (in his feature-film debut) creating the picture by mixing documentary-style segments with an incredibly goofy, broad narrative involving cartoon villains and CIA agents. The picture leans into its inherent ridiculousness, allowing the one-of-a-kind, wildlife-loving titular showman to engage in his trademark shtick, creating comedy with ease. The result is lightweight, enjoyable fun. Although imperfect, it is a joy to watch a movie of this ilk that does not take itself too seriously and relishes in delivering tongue-in-cheek entertainment.


When a satellite in space blows up, it sends a beacon hurtling towards Australia, where it winds up in the mouth of an enormous saltwater crocodile. Afraid that the beacon will fall into the wrong hands, the CIA dispatches two agents, Robert (Lachy Hulme) and Vaugn (Kenneth Ransom), to retrieve it. The crocodile in question lives near a cattle station owner named Brozzie (Magda Szubanski), who wants to kill the animal because it is eating her livestock. Her intentions bring her to the attention of the Department of Fauna and Fisheries, who dispatch Sam (David Wenham) to deal with the situation. Meanwhile, the Crocodile Hunter (a.k.a. Steve Irwin) and his wife, Terri Irwin (who plays herself), are busy filming their television show in Queensland when Sam hires them to relocate the crocodile away from Brozzie's property. When Steve and Terri encounter the CIA agents, the wildlife conservationists immediately mistake them for poachers and try to prevent the pair from catching or killing the crocodile.

Irwin was an educator and a conservationist, making it unsurprising that The Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course also lets its star discuss the importance of wildlife conservation and the need to understand that animals are a crucial part of our ecosystem. It adds a meaningful message to the silliness without bogging the production down. The documentary segments throughout the film are unscripted, as Stainton allowed the titular Crocodile Hunter to interact with the animals they encountered during filming and say whatever felt natural. As a result, there are no animatronic or digital animals - all the wildlife footage is authentic and showcases real crocodiles, snakes, spiders, and lizards. Indeed, all scenes of Steve wrestling dangerous, lethal saltwater crocodiles for relocation are genuine. The only issue with these scenes is the almost never-ending hissing sounds, which make the animals sound more aggressive despite appearing placid. The snakes are the worst offenders in this regard, as snakes rarely hiss, while the crocodiles sound more like alligators. The overly dramatic sound effects contradict the otherwise naturalistic approach to these scenes.


Although Irwin cameoed in Dr. Dolittle 2 and lent his voice to Happy Feet, The Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course is his first and only time taking the lead role in a feature film. With Stainton allowing Irwin to adlib consistently, even while performing alongside other actors during "scripted" scenes, the late Crocodile Hunter is a hoot here, and his premature death renders the production all the more cherished and appreciated. Other members of the Irwin family also appear, including the similarly charming Terri as well as Steve's beloved dog, Sui, while Bindi (the couple's daughter) features in archival footage at the end of the flick. Collision Course also features recognisable Australian actors in minor roles, including Kath and Kim's Magda Szubanski, as well as David Wenham, who was fresh from filming the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Despite the screenplay's absurdity, the actors never appear to be in on the joke, nor do they knowingly wink at the camera while desperately trying to generate comedy. Instead, they all commit to the material and their characters, though the performances are not exactly nuanced. Timothy Bottoms (The Last Picture Show) even makes an uncredited, amusing appearance as U.S. President George W. Bush.

Those who enjoy simplistic Australian comedies from the '90s and 2000s (think Kangaroo Jack) should have a good time with The Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course, with its deliberately broad sense of humour and cartoonish sense of reality. Plus, with Stainton shooting the movie on celluloid instead of digital video (even the documentary segments were shot on 35mm, though they are presented in a different aspect ratio), it holds up over twenty years later and looks like a proper film instead of a cheap television movie. Collision Course is fun, clean entertainment for children and adults, delivering easygoing laughs with ease. It is not exactly memorable, but it's undeniably enjoyable while it lasts, and it has significant replay value. Additionally, the end credits feature an endearing montage of camcorder footage showcasing the Crocodile Hunter being his usual goofy self with animals, family members and coworkers (set to the Baha Men's Crocodile Rock). It's a fun way to close the movie, and the montage is now unexpectedly poignant after Irwin's passing.

6.3/10

Netflix Christmas movies are not uncommon, but most of the streamer's festive offerings amount to unambitious, formulaic romantic comedies that often feature outlandish premises (Hot Frosty, The Knight Before Christmas). However, 2024's Carry-On is an entirely different beast. An intense action-thriller from director Jaume Collet-Serra (Run All Night, Unknown), this Christmas movie is spiritually closer to Die Hard than a Hallmark Original, favouring fights and thrills over saccharine and sentiment. It's not groundbreaking or revolutionary, but Carry-On is an entertaining, sharply scripted old-fashioned thriller, and its Yuletide setting - which more or less amounts to window dressing to raise the stakes - makes it refreshing Christmas counterprogramming in a sea of festive rom-coms.


On Christmas Eve, the TSA team at Los Angeles International Airport prepare for a hellacious shift, gearing up to process 200,000 impatient, anxious holiday travellers. Needing the money with a baby on the way, Ethan (Taron Egerton) and his girlfriend, an airline operations manager named Nora (Sofia Carson), agree to work the shift. After previously failing to gain entrance to the police academy, Ethan aspires to get a promotion after years of underperforming to ensure he can provide for his family. Choosing a crucial day to prove himself, Ethan secures a spot managing a baggage-scanning lane, but his shift takes an unexpected turn when a traveller gives him an earbud. After receiving a text instructing him to place it into his ear, Ethan hears the voice of a ruthless freelance mercenary known as the Traveler (Jason Bateman). The Traveler needs a specific bag containing a deadly weapon to pass through Ethan's scanning lane, or his accomplice will execute Nora. With the Traveler's accomplice sharply watching Ethan's every move on the surveillance cameras to ensure he does not attempt to contact the authorities, Ethan has little choice but to comply. Meanwhile, the terrorist activities catch the attention of the LAPD, with Detective Elena Cole (Danielle Deadwyler) contacting the Department of Homeland Security over concerns of an impending attack involving a lethal gas.

Collet-Serra works best with more grounded material, as his CGI-laden blockbusters like The Jungle Cruise and Black Adam suffered from dull storytelling. Working within the confines of a single location for most of the movie, the director ratchets up the white-knuckle tension from the beginning, establishing the stakes and making it clear that the Traveler is not afraid to go through with his threats. Egerton and Bateman are superb, with Egerton convincingly swallowing his native British accent to play an American. Able to sell vulnerability, intense paranoia and confidence, Egerton is a terrific leading man. However, Bateman is the standout, playing against type as the picture's sadistic antagonist. With large sections of the movie involving dialogue between the pair, it is fortunate that both performers are naturalistic and compelling, carrying the material and perpetually maintaining interest. Additionally, thrillers of this ilk commonly involve dumb character decisions, but the screenplay by T.J. Fixman (2016's Ratchet & Clank) treats Ethan as resourceful and intelligent, making increasingly clever decisions to try and thwart the terrorist plot. Unfortunately for him, the Traveler is always one step ahead of him.


After concentrating on tense interplay and near-misses for the picture's first two acts, the final third switches into action mode, with Ethan running and fighting for his life to save Nora and prevent the weapon's detonation. Admittedly, the picture feels more noticeably Hollywood as the finale approaches, particularly with Ethan disarming and escaping from Detective Cole in the pursuit of his goal, or the young TSA officer entering a plane already in motion on the runway. However, Collet-Serra's robust execution of the material ensures it remains compelling and entertaining, especially with the director using practical effects whenever possible instead of CGI excess. It may be silly, but it looks believable. The only scene threatening the picture's plausible aesthetic is a fight between two characters in a fast-moving vehicle along a motorway. It's an exciting action beat that unfolds in a single shot and even features Wham!'s iconic song Last Christmas, but the digital effects do not entirely sell the illusion.

Comparisons to Die Hard 2 are inevitable due to the airport setting at Christmastime, though Carry-On is more of a thriller than an action blockbuster, favouring a more intimate scale. With a terrific cast, clever scripting, and competent technical execution, the film is entertaining and gripping, and it has strong replay value. Debates will continue to rage on every year about whether or not Die Hard is a Christmas movie (it definitely is), and one could certainly imagine loading up Carry-On during the festive season after watching Bruce Willis drop Hans Gruber from the top of the Nakitomi Tower.

7.7/10

From a serious critical perspective, 2024's Red One is not a particularly good movie. Written by long-time Fast & Furious scribe Chris Morgan and directed by Jake Kasdan (Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle), it represents everything wrong with contemporary blockbusters: it is ridiculously expensive (carrying a reported $250 million price tag), contains expensive superstars, is too long at a hefty two hours, is full of excessive digital effects, and is not especially original or witty. In short, it is another extravagant Big Dumb Blockbuster(TM) destined to divide critics and audiences, as reflected in the harsh critical reaction, while movie-goers have been more receptive to the picture's visual excess and entertaining action sequences. Certainly, Red One is challenging to defend beyond simplistic guilty pleasure, as there are no life-affirming messages or meaningful character arcs, nor does it provide heart or emotion. However, it does deliver unbridled spectacle, with Kasdan understanding precisely the type of movie that Red One is and avoiding the pitfalls usually associated with braindead blockbusters like Michael Bay's Transformers flicks. Thus, this tongue-in-cheek, Marvel-esque reimagining of the Santa Claus myth and the North Pole is genuinely entertaining and pitched at the right tone, making it fun festive viewing for those in the right mindset.


In the North Pole, Callum Drift (Dwayne Johnson) is the commander of ELF (Enforcement Logistics and Fortification), a security detail for Santa Claus (J.K. Simmons), providing protection as Father Christmas carries out his annual duties. After over five hundred years with ELF, Callum prepares to retire due to his growing disillusionment with humanity as the Naughty List continues to grow, but he agrees to serve Santa for one last Christmas. Mere days before December 25th, a black ops unit infiltrates the North Pole and abducts Santa, prompting the response of a clandestine military organisation known as M.O.R.A. (Mythological Oversight and Restoration Authority), headed by Director Zoe Harlow (Lucy Lui). Discovering that the North Pole's location was compromised by a talented hacker (and notorious naughty lister) named Jack O'Malley (Chris Evans), Zoe's team tracks him down for questioning. With Jack unaware of his client's identity, he and Callum reluctantly team up to find out who kidnapped Santa and where Father Christmas is being held captive. The trail leads them to the Christmas witch, Grýla (Kiernan Shipka), who wants to punish everybody she deems worthy of the Naughty List, sparking a race against time to save the festive season.

Red One is another Christmas movie to portray a badass Santa in an action movie setting, following the likes of 2020's Fatman and 2022's Violent Night. However, Kasdan's vision is decidedly more family-friendly, with the picture carrying a PG-13 rating for maximum box office returns. (Ironically, the film was a massive bomb regardless.) Although Morgan's screenplay displays creativity in its intriguing vision of the North Pole and Santa's operations, it deploys eye-rolling story clichés by the dozen, with Jack portrayed as an absentee father (whose son becomes a target) while Callum prepares to leave Santa's crew after five centuries (but the events of the story might change his mind). Although the characters do change throughout the narrative, everything seems so perfunctory and formulaic instead of uplifting or emotionally impactful. Still, Evans is deliciously engaging as the cynical black-hat hacker, and Callum is a good fit for Johnson's deadpan brand of action hero. They are an enjoyable screen pairing, while a ripped J.K. Simmons offers a fun take on jolly old Saint Nick, and Kristofer Hivju (Tormund from Game of Thrones) is an authoritative and intimidating Krampus. Kiernan Shipka is less successful as Grýla, struggling to create a memorably villainous antagonist.


To the credit of Kasdan and cinematographer Dan Mindel (a regular J.J. Abrams collaborator), the action is smooth and easily comprehensible, without any headache-inducing shaky cam to turn the battles into indecipherable blurs. Red One is at its best when Kasdan leans into the material's inherent cheesiness and absurdity, from Santa lifting heavy weights to Callum removing a snowman henchman's carrot nose to defeat it. The flick goes bonkers with colourful mythological characters, including an anthropomorphic polar bear (played by Puerto Rican actor Reinaldo Faberlle), bulky snowmen henchmen, dog monsters, Krampus and his hellish minions, and even the Headless Horseman. Although Kasdan executes most of the creatures with motion capture and digital effects, Krampus is a miraculous, practically realised creation, with prosthetics convincingly bringing the character to life. However, the CGI excess sometimes gets a bit much, robbing set pieces of tension as the superpowered Callum never seems to be in danger, making several sequences seem like rote recreations of the pre-production previz. In other words, the action has no spontaneity, rendering it enjoyable but hollow. In scenes like Callum's initial pursuit of Grýla's minions at the North Pole, Red One looks more like a video game.

Falling short of becoming an instant holiday classic, Red One will probably play best for teenagers and young adults who enjoy CGI-laden blockbusters of this ilk, especially if comic book movies appeal to them. More discerning viewers unable to take the picture in its intended spirit will have less fun. Defending the movie is not to imply that 21st-century audiences do not deserve more thoughtful blockbusters, but at least Red One is a technically proficient ride with a mostly fun cast, and it is undeniably unique in the realm of Christmas movies, providing a welcome reprieve from the hundreds of trashy Yuletide rom-coms that invade streamers on an annual basis.

6.6/10

After revisiting old characters by finally returning to the View Askewniverse, Kevin Smith continues his nostalgic streak with 2024's The 4:30 Movie, a standalone, semi-autobiographical coming-of-age tale that represents a love letter to a bygone era of cinemagoing. With Smith once again undertaking writing and directing duties, the filmmaker delivers a sweet, personal story with a nice message, reinforcing a love and passion for cinema at a time when streaming has become the dominant way to enjoy new movies. (How ironic that the flick only received a limited theatrical release.) Unsurprisingly, The 4:30 Movie is full of cute Easter Eggs, in-jokes, and an almost endless stream of knowing pop culture references, and Smith recruits many of his long-time acting chums to fill out the cast in minor cameo appearances. Although the end result is perfectly pleasant and watchable, it's a surprisingly lightweight and unmemorable endeavour from the filmmaker, lacking the spark that elevated Smith's early movies.


The year is 1986, and avid cinephile teenager Brian David (Austin Zajur) spends most of his time attending his local cinema, expressing an enthusiastic passion for all things film-related. After mustering up the courage, Brian calls his crush, Melody (Siena Agudong), and asks her on a date to see a new detective comedy called Bucklick. In the lead-up to the date, Brian and his two pals, Burny (Nicholas Cirillo) and Belly (Reed Northrup), intend to spend the day theatre-hopping: they pay to see a teen-friendly sci-fi fantasy movie, then plan to sneak into R-rated features. However, the trio immediately attract unwanted attention from the multiplex's strict manager, Mike (Ken Jeong), who is not shy about handing out lifetime bans to problematic patrons. The ensuing misadventures test their friendship, but Brian perpetually remains laser-focused on his impending date with Melody.

With The 4:30 Movie taking place in New Jersey during the 1980s and with shooting occurring at Smith's retro-themed Smodcastle Cinemas, the writer-director incorporates many of his teenage experiences and early romantic encounters into the script to shape this story about filmgoing, friendships, crushes, and adolescent life in general. Smith also does his best to recreate the '80s, incorporating things like wrestling, Starlog Magazine, Quasar CRT televisions, and Hands Across America participants, while the characters frequently reference well-known movies. (Curiously, Poltergeist II: The Other Side is mentioned the most.) Regrettably, however, the story is almost as on-the-nose as some of the dialogue (a specific Star Wars conversation with a cynical usher is more exasperating than funny), with characters predictably encountering the right people at the right time in the third act to learn the right lessons, making the screenplay feel incredibly lazy.


Smith dials back his regular penchant for foul language and profanity here in an attempt to deliver a PG-13 comedy that is accessible to a younger demographic. However, the masturbation jokes ultimately scored the film an R rating despite the director's appeal efforts. It's a shame that this rating came too late for Smith to lean into it a bit more, as the humour could use more kick, and the movie largely feels PG-13. At times, the script is a pleasing showcase for Smith's razor-sharp writing instincts, reminding us why he became such an indie film wunderkind; the opening phone call between Brian and Melody is effortlessly charming, for example, and several of the conversations between the three boys are witty and amusing. However, the film feels too self-referential at other times, making it feel like yet another movie specifically tailored for long-time followers of Smith's podcasts and films, leaving general audiences in the dark.

Although The 4:30 Movie looks slick and polished, with specific lens choices and colour grading to generate an old-school look, it is challenging to get past the layer of digital gloss. As a result, it looks like a made-for-Netflix movie instead of a proper filmic throwback. No matter how you look at it, nostalgic pictures of this ilk should resemble genuine celluloid productions. At least the fake trailers and films within the movie show a far more agreeable filmic aesthetic, down to print damage and soft focus. These segments also show a firm understanding of low-grade '80s productions, including rickety special effects and hammy acting. The performances are otherwise not much to write home about, with the actors coming across as believable enough but lacking in charm. Composer Bear McCreary (whose name is referenced in the opening radio announcement since he has apparently become Smith's favourite composer after they collaborated for Masters of the Universe: Revelation) is also on hand to provide a retro-infused score that thankfully gives the picture some much-needed flavour.


The 4:30 Movie closes on a curiously anticlimactic note, with the shenanigans coming to an abrupt end as Smith stages an extended conversation between Brian and Melody before the film suddenly concludes. One supposes that Smith was aiming for a sweet conclusion reminiscent of '80s teen films like The Breakfast Club, but it lacks power and impact. With the feature clocking in at a scant 76 minutes, excluding credits, Smith pads things out with a mid-credits scene and a post-credits blooper reel, though neither segment is a standout. Smith's heart is in the right place with The 4:30 Movie, and it is far better than many of Smith's recent endeavours, showing a promising creative direction for the writer-director. Ultimately, though, it is difficult to imagine anybody revisiting this one as much as Clerks, Chasing Amy or Dogma.

6.0/10

Adam Elliot's second animated feature after 2009's brilliant Mary and Max, 2024's Memoir of a Snail further confirms the filmmaker's impeccable talents, showing that his debut was not a fluke. Retaining the superb aesthetic and storytelling qualities of his previous feature, Memoir of a Snail is another almost unbearably poignant and honest examination of loneliness, loss and humanity, yet it is also consistently hilarious through a combination of tender and dark humour. Elliot treads similar thematic ground to Mary and Max, and the story is ostensibly quite ordinary, but the director enlivens the material with profound emotional resonance and top-notch character work, making this another serious awards contender for the Australian animator. Although animated, Memoir of a Snail is another film demonstrating that the art form is not purely for children. Indeed, this is a movie for adults and is not suitable for younger kids, particularly due to its intense thematic content and subject matter.


Born in Australia during the 1970s, Grace (Sarah Snook) and her twin brother, Gilbert (Kodi Smit-McPhee), endure intense loss during their formative years. Following their parents' deaths, the government separates Grace and Gilbert by sending them to separate foster homes, with Grace ending up in Canberra while Gilbert lives with a religious fundamentalist family in Western Australia. Memoir of a Snail traces the bittersweet story of the twins who stay in touch through heartache and tragedy while hoping to reunite and yearning for greater things, with Grace aspiring to follow in her father's footsteps by pursuing a career in stop-motion animation. Through the years, Grace maintains an affinity for snails, as she began collecting and breeding them after her mother's death. Grace also develops a bond with an elderly woman named Pinky (Jacki Weaver), who helps her deal with the challenges of adulthood, including a short-lived marriage to a sleazy mechanic (Tony Armstrong).

Whereas Mary and Max built to an emotional climax, Elliot goes straight for the jugular in Memoir of a Snail, with the first act involving the deaths of several people who are close to Grace. Anybody who has lost a parent or a grandparent might find some of these moments extraordinarily affecting, with characters suffering from ailments like sleep apnea and Alzheimer's. Elliot does not shy away from life's brutal realities, but the story is not relentless doom and gloom, as humour consistently livens the proceedings, and the picture closes on an optimistic note that feels wholly earned. With Elliot developing Memoir of a Snail over an eight-year period, the screenplay perfectly balances drama and humour, to the point that some scenes will make you both laugh and cry. Elliot maintains a robust sense of pacing, never dwelling on anything for too long, while Sarah Snook confidently drives the movie with her nuanced, almost omnipresent narration. Like Mary and Max, narration drives the story of Memoir of a Snail, as the low budget makes it difficult to execute dialogue-driven stories due to the challenges of synchronising dialogue with lip movements.


Elliot brought back several collaborators for Memoir of a Snail, including editor Bill Murphy and cinematographer Gerald Thompson, whose contributions to the production are superb. Like Elliot's previous animated endeavours, including his Oscar-winning short film Harvie Krumpet, there is a handmade quality to the stop-motion animation, with animators primarily using clay, wire, paint and paper for the puppets. The production design is immaculate, with each set featuring astonishing detail, making the world feel wholly believable. The 90-minute feature consists of over 135,000 still photographs, and while the character models are deliberately imperfect instead of photorealistic, the sense of visual style is engrossing, and the motion is impossibly smooth. The animation possesses a distinct personality, with subtle movements that make the characters seem genuinely alive. Additionally, the movie features no digital effects, as the animators created all of the special effects by hand, including flames. The Melbourne-based claymation team worked patiently for several months to bring Memoir of a Snail to life, creating only 10 seconds of footage each day throughout the painstaking and intricate process, and the result feels incredibly special in an era dominated by computer animation. Furthermore, composer Elena Kats-Chernin provides a gentle and moving original score, complementing the visuals without overwhelming them.

With a terrific voice cast consisting of recognisable Aussie acting veterans like Eric Bana and Jacki Weaver (musician Nick Cave even plays a role), who bring the material and characters to life with palpable nuance, it is easy to become invested in Memoir of a Snail, which stands as one of 2024's best movies, animated or otherwise. In short, it is a masterpiece of intense pathos and uproarious comedy, and it is impossible to imagine the year begetting another animated movie that tops it. With Mary and Max receiving no attention at the Academy Awards, one can only hope that Memoir of a Snail is not similarly ignored.

10/10

A hastily-assembled remake of the Spanish horror gem Rec, 2008's Quarantine failed to make much of an impact or justify its existence, as it merely recreated memorable moments from the original film without sufficient intensity or panache. Rec spawned three sequels, making it relatively unsurprising that Screen Gems endeavoured to capitalise on Quarantine's modest box office success with a follow-up in the form of 2011's Quarantine 2: Terminal. Wisely jettisoning the found footage conceit, writer-director John Pogue (making his directorial debut here) finds fertile creative ground in a new setting and a new group of characters, resulting in a vicious, engaging horror picture that makes the most of its limited budget. Quarantine 2 is a far better picture than its predecessor, delivering competent thrills and edge-of-your-seat set pieces instead of lifelessly recreating scares from a superior film, making it worth your attention even for those who did not like Quarantine. Even though Quarantine 2 is a direct-to-video production, it could have scared up a fair bit of business at the box office.


In Los Angeles, flight attendants Jenny (Mercedes Masohn) and Paula (Bre Blair) prepare for a late-night flight to Kansas City, facilitating the arrival of the passengers and pilots. Before departure, Jenny helps a 12-year-old boy (Mattie Liptak) who is flying alone, and she gets friendly with Henry (Josh Cooke), an intelligent kindergarten teacher transporting his class pets. Once in the air, an obese passenger (George Back) shows signs of illness, and his condition deteriorates as he vomits and foams at the mouth. With the passenger beginning a rampage as he tries to access the cockpit, the pilots coordinate an emergency landing with reluctant directions from the closest air control tower, pulling up at a jetway manned by a baggage handler named Ed (Ignacio Serricchio). As the passengers frantically disembark, they realise that the government has no intention of allowing them to leave the building, with scientists and armed soldiers surrounding the de facto quarantine area as the passengers fight to survive.

Whereas Rec 2 directly followed on from the events of its predecessor and returned viewers to the apartment building, Quarantine 2 takes a different approach; it's a standalone sequel with tenuous ties to the first movie. (It would be unsurprising if Quarantine 2's screenplay started as another movie entirely before a rewrite to turn it into a sequel.) Pogue's sequel efficiently explores the virus's origins, even including discussions about the value of the human race that become relevant as the script reveals more details. Pogue also smartly connects to the original Quarantine, with characters watching news reports and hearing rumours about the apartment building outbreak while government agencies respond to the mid-air situation with awareness of the virus that turns people into bite-crazy, frenzied zombies. Pogue maintains a furious sense of momentum as the first attack happens on the aircraft, and the sense of peril is all the more immediate due to the confined space. Unfortunately, the movie hits a demonstratable lull once the action shifts to the baggage handling area, particularly with the characters bickering and squabbling too much, leading to uneven pacing.


With a lower budget, Quarantine 2 lacks scope and does not feel overly cinematic - there are no external shots of the aeroplane in mid-air, nor are there any exterior shots of the airport or the plane disembarking once the characters reach the ground. Additionally, the movie lacks visual gravitas, as the cinematography and general appearance give away the picture's straight-to-video origins - in fact, it looks more like a found footage movie from an aesthetic perspective, making it ironic that Pogue decided against a found footage approach. However, Pogue's handling of the set pieces is frequently top-notch, with an astonishingly unnerving initial attack sequence on the plane and several intense interludes within the airport, including effective use of shadows and dark hallways. Pogue favours sturdy handheld cinematography (he cited Paul Greengrass as an inspiration) that augments the immediacy without affecting the coherency of the set pieces, as director of photography Matthew Irving does not devolve into a routine of headache-inducing shaky cam.

Quarantine 2: Terminal lacks star power as the cast consists of unknowns to keep the budget under control, but the performances are surprisingly robust across the board, even if the actors essentially play stock characters. Although the movie achieves nothing groundbreaking, Pogue's approach to this sequel deserves major plaudits, arranging an organic and satisfying continuation with limited sets and a small ensemble cast while paying attention to the visceral ingredients that generate effective horror. Catching sight of an infected individual is unsettling, while the exceptional sound design ensures the zombies remain scary even when not on-screen. Although it lacks strong characters and emotional resonance, it is a recommended late-night watch for genre fans. Considering the low bar for direct-to-video sequels (and direct-to-video horror movies in general, for that matter), it is pleasing to see something as competent and thrilling as Quarantine 2. Despite feeling zero excitement for this sequel considering the lacklustre first movie, it is now a shame that no further instalments have materialised as of 2024, especially since this follow-up is better than all of Rec's hit-and-miss sequels.

6.7/10

Horror luminary Stephen King's first (and, to date, only) directorial undertaking, 1986's Maximum Overdrive finds the author-cum-filmmaker adapting one of his own short stories for the big screen. A critical and commercial failure, Maximum Overdrive has a lousy reputation in serious cinephile circles, as the picture garnered two Golden Raspberry nominations (including Worst Director), and King himself disowned the finished product, calling it a "moron movie" and resolving never to direct again. Nevertheless, for fans of campy '80s horror, the film undeniably delivers, and it remains an enormously enjoyable sit that deserves more love than it appears to receive. With a generous though not overwhelming budget, King executes the high-concept science-fiction premise with corny dialogue, an underlying sense of dark humour, oodles of campy '80s horror goodness, and hard rock music courtesy of Australian band AC/DC.


In 1987, as Earth passes through the tail of the mysterious Rhea-M comet, inanimate machines suddenly come to life to terrorise and attack their human creators. With the homicidal machines making quick work of anybody in their path, a group of survivors band together at the Dixie Boy Truck Stop in North Carolina while big rig trucks and other killer vehicles circle outside. Among the group of humans is a cook named Bill Robinson (Emilio Estevez), who takes it upon himself to maintain order and sanity while developing romantic feelings for a hitchhiker, Brett (Laura Harrington).

The characters are pure clichés, and King paints them with broad strokes of black and white, never adding an ounce of nuance. The film features a rugged, resourceful male protagonist who's an ex-convict but is nevertheless heroic, while there is also a vulnerable female love interest and a newlywed couple to raise dramatic stakes. Additionally, the story introduces an antagonistic truck stop owner (with a secret arsenal of high-powered weapons) and other idiotic characters who only exist as cannon fodder for the machines. Indeed, one character even walks outside into the line of fire to berate the machines before meeting their demise. The performances do not do much to elevate the corny, on-the-nose dialogue, with the Razzie-nominated Emilio Estevez (who was hired at the insistence of Dino De Laurentiis; King wanted Bruce Springsteen) coming across as stiff and self-serious, while none of the other actors (including future Bart Simpson, Yeardley Smith) make much of an impression. However, Pat Hingle's over-the-top performance as the Dixie Boy's owner, Bubba Hendershot, is a highlight.


Reports from the set of Maximum Overdrive are almost as crazy as the film itself, with King professing that he was high on cocaine during the shoot and did not know what he was doing, while cinematographer Armando Nannuzzi lost an eye following a special effects shot gone wrong. Nevertheless, the flick does not come across as the slapdash work of an inexperienced filmmaker - instead, everything from the stuntwork and special effects to the editing and story progression is surprisingly assured, exhibiting no signs of a troubled production. Despite King's disillusionment with the production, the set pieces are proficient and exciting, and the picture highlights the risk big rig trucks pose to comparatively small humans. King's screenplay takes full advantage of the premise's gleefully crazy and inherently humorous possibilities - the first machine to malfunction is a bank sign that displays profanity before an ATM calls a customer an asshole, while everything from bascule bridges and lawnmowers to vending machines and electric knives try to kill everybody in sight. Vehicles even start honking in Morse code to communicate with humans. How the machines gained the ability to know Morse code remains a mystery.

Instead of a soundtrack comprising subtlety, intensity and nuance by a well-known composer, Maximum Overdrive only features rock 'n' roll music by King's favourite band, AC/DC, who released the soundtrack as an album entitled Who Made Who. The use of hard rock makes the set pieces all the more memorable - the song Who Made Who accompanies the opening montage of machines going haywire, and the humans refuel as many trucks as possible to the tune of Hells Bells. This curious creative decision further solidifies this movie as utterly unique in the annals of cinema, as it is difficult to imagine any studio investing a significant amount of money into a film as bizarre as this. Indeed, if a movie like Maximum Overdrive was made in the 21st Century, it would look cheap, digital and artificial. But there is an inherent charm to old-school practical effects, authentic location shooting, and the visual gravitas of 35mm film - it feels like a proper motion picture instead of a low-rent joke.


With Maximum Overdrive boiling down to a movie about a space comet causing machines to attack humans, it is nearly impossible to take the material seriously, even though King ostensibly tried. Instead of a white-knuckle suspense thriller, the film is a tongue-in-cheek delight with enough memorable kills and gore to satisfy genre fans. The pacing does grind to a halt when King concentrates too much on the human characters since the drama is not exactly riveting, and there is a fair bit of inexcusably silly behaviour, but there is still enough of worth to justify a watch, particularly for those with a taste for campy '80s horror. Just do not expect a chilling masterpiece like The Shining, an adaptation of King's work that, let's not forget, the author despises.

6.8/10