Reviews by PvtCaboose91

Released sixteen years after the iconic horror classic An American Werewolf in London, 1997's An American Werewolf in Paris is a standalone sequel with a new cast and crew and no obvious link to its predecessor. Although director Anthony Waller avoids simply rehashing the 1981 picture and actually introduces a variety of intriguing ideas, it's all for naught - An American Werewolf in Paris is a bust from start to finish, suffering from dreadful digital effects, sloppy craftsmanship, (mostly) bland actors and, most dishearteningly, a lack of actual horror.


Travelling to Paris as part of a European "daredevil tour," obnoxious American tourists Andy (Tom Everett Scott), Brad (Vince Vieluf), and Chris (Phil Buckman) look to enjoy the city's cultural landmarks, heading to the Eiffel Tower with a bungee cord after the sun goes down. However, before they can perform their planned jump, they witness Serafine (Julie Delpy) preparing to commit suicide by leaping off the tower. Andy intervenes and saves her, but Serafine disappears into the night, unwilling to thank the boys for their efforts. Instantly smitten, Andy tracks down Serafine and tries to win her affection, unwilling to take "no" for an answer. Andy's relentless pursuit of Serafine leads to the trio discovering a secret underground society of werewolves who use a serum to transform themselves at any time, regardless of the moon.

Although John Landis initially began developing an organic sequel with returning characters in the early 1990s, the studio rejected the idea, prompting the director to quit the project. After going through several screenwriters, the film eventually headed towards production with a script by Tim Burns and Tom Stern, who previously worked on the 1993 comedy film Freaked and the MTV sketch comedy show The Idiot Box. Even after enduring many rewrites, both credited (director Anthony Waller) and uncredited (Larry Brothers, Neal Purvis and Robert Wade), the resultant film is astonishingly slipshod, with cheap comedy and uninteresting characters spoiling the story's promising ideas. The film's early stages feel like a typical '90s teen comedy, as one could easily imagine the central trio appearing in an American Pie film, and the gags (including Andy chewing a condom) are dishearteningly low-brow and ineffective. Waller furthers the '90s atmosphere by filling the movie with era-specific music, including songs by Caroline's Spine, Fastball and Smash Mouth.


Waller made his directorial debut with the well-received horror film Mute Witness in 1995, but An American Werewolf in Paris comes up astonishingly short in terms of scares and atmosphere. Unfortunately, there is no getting past the woeful digital effects. An American Werewolf in London relied on Rick Baker's exceptional make-up effects and prosthetics, while John Landis used creative lighting and editing to create the horror. Although the early stages of An American Werewolf in Paris show promise by using a less-is-more approach, including an unnerving opening attack sequence that editor Peter R. Adam intercuts with an orchestra, all suspense and horror disappear when Waller brings the digitally-created creatures to the foreground. Additionally, werewolf point-of-view shots contribute to the suspense in the picture's early stages, but the shots soon become overused. The animatronic werewolves and practical effects are solid, but the computer-generated werewolves never look remotely convincing even for a single frame, as the special effects are unbelievably terrible and phoney even by '90s standards (The Lost World: Jurassic Park was released in the same year). Plus, the compositing is equally unconvincing, with bungee jumps off the Eiffel Tower and the Statue of Liberty looking rough and unfinished. The reported $25 million budget is genuinely baffling, as the flick looks closer to a straight-to-video cheapie or a bad TV movie than a glorious theatrical feature. Indeed, there is no visual flair.

Fresh from the Tom Hanks-directed musical hit That Thing You Do!, Tom Everett Scott is entirely bereft of charm here, coming across as a bland and uninteresting leading man. Likewise, his co-stars - Vince Vieluf and Phil Buckman - fail to make much of an impression, coming across as generic and unlikeable. However, it's hard to imagine any actors executing some of this material gracefully, with the script including bizarre scenes of Andy seeing visions of deceased people. Meanwhile, acclaimed French actress Julie Delpy (Before Sunrise) only agreed to play Serafine for the money, and she confidently out-acts all of the other performers. Treating the material with utmost sincerity, Delpy is magnetic, spirited and innately human, creating a character that is easy to like and latch onto, which makes her co-stars look even worse.


There are minor highlights throughout An American Werewolf in Paris, particularly with the grisly, R-rated attack scenes that can be enjoyed as campy, mindless entertainment (the climactic train attack is entertaining enough). However, the film fails to gel as a whole, with Waller never coming close to matching the brilliance of Landis's landmark original film. An American Werewolf in Paris fails as both a comedy and a horror film since it's not scary or funny, which is incredibly disheartening considering the potential for a sequel to An American Werewolf in London.

3.9/10

Hollywood's fascination with assassins dates back many decades, with notable films like 1942's This Gun for Hire and 2004's Collateral depicting the cliché notion of suave hitmen who carry out murders-for-hire. Although 2023's Hit Man ostensibly looks like another unremarkable movie about a charming assassin who skilfully plies his trade, director/co-writer Richard Linklater has something more intriguing in mind, concocting a fascinating subversion of the genre. Taking inspiration from a 2001 Texas Monthly article by Skip Hollandsworth (who also co-wrote 2011's Bernie with Linklater), Hit Man ridicules and debunks the myth of the conventional Hollywood hitman with sharp, knowing wit. It's Linklater's most commercially-friendly film since the era of pictures like 2003's School of Rock and 2005's Bad News Bears, but it, fortunately, retains his filmmaking strengths in spades, as it features well-drawn characterisations, delightful humour and proficient filmmaking across the board. With audiences consistently lamenting Hollywood's lack of originality, Hit Man is the type of fresh, innovative entertainment for adults we rarely see.


Gary Johnson (Glen Powell) is a psychology and philosophy professor at the University of New Orleans. He appears extremely humdrum in other aspects of his life, from his questionable fashion to his two cats and choice of car. However, due to his technological expertise, Johnson also works undercover for the New Orleans Police Department to assist in sting operations by providing hidden microphones, working alongside Claudette (Retta) and Phil (Sanjay Rao). A fellow cop, Jasper (Austin Amelio), plays a fake hitman during these operations, working to elicit confessions from people while his colleagues listen to and record the interactions. When the department abruptly suspends Jasper, they need a last-minute replacement to take his place, with Claudette convincing the hesitant Johnson to step in. Despite his initial misgivings, Johnson is a natural, capably coaxing confessions from his "customers" while creating unique hitman personas for each meeting. However, he changes his approach when a woman named Madison (Adria Arjona) attempts to hire him to kill her abusive husband, Ray (Evan Holtzman). Finding her attractive and charming, Johnson - under the guise of "Ron" - convinces her to leave her husband instead and restart her life. Soon, Madison reconnects with "Ron," and they begin a sexual relationship while Johnson tries to keep the situation a secret.

Linklater and Powell's screenplay deviates from Johnson's real-life escapades; Hit Man is merely inspired by the true story and is not a faithful beat-by-beat replay of the man's life. Although Johnson once talked a woman out of hiring an assassin to kill her abusive boyfriend, the romance with Madison is fictitious; Linklater and Powell use the woman's story as a jumping-off point. Thankfully, the duo concoct a dramatically satisfying and enthralling story, with the feature observing Johnson as his transformation into "Ron" begins to bleed into his personal life, improving his confidence and teaching. Despite its title and subject matter, Hit Man is not an action film, and it is surprisingly non-violent, with Linklater instead creating thrills through the various sticky situations that Johnson attempts to navigate. Additionally, the screenplay touches on the moralistic aspect of Johnson's sting operations, with scenes showing the courtroom aftermath of various arrests, not all of which result in a conviction.


Linklater keeps Hit Man light on its feet, imbuing the feature with extraordinary energy and a snappy pace, with the narrative never losing momentum despite the two-hour runtime. The picture looks slick and colourful, while Graham Reynolds's terrific original score adds further flavour, with Linklater making the most of the meagre budget. Gary Johnson is the juicy character of a lifetime for Powell, who co-wrote the script primarily to create such a role for himself. The up-and-coming star is note-perfect here, with the movie allowing him to play a variety of characters as Johnson adopts different disguises and personas for each operation, including a hysterical Patrick Bateman impression. Powell's charisma is off the charts here, showing a type of old-school Hollywood magnetism that should make him an even more desirable leading man. Powell worked with Linklater on Everybody Wants Some!! in 2016 and 2022's Apollo 10 1/2 before the actor's star-making turn in Top Gun: Maverick, making it all the more satisfying to see him reunite with the director after gaining significant profile. Meanwhile, Adria Arjona is fantastic here, playing Madison as an old-fashioned noir-ish femme fatale. Powell and Arjona share exceptional chemistry, and their pairing is one of the key reasons why Hit Man works. A charismatic supporting cast surrounds the two, with Parks and Recreation alumni Retta bringing genuine personality to her character, while Sanjay Rao also makes a fantastic impression.

Parts of Hit Man's story feel familiar, but the script gives the story genuine dimension and substance, allowing the film to soar. Linklater furthers his cinematic interest in self and identity here, with Johnson believing that social roles shape our identity and that people can change their personalities through determination and practice. One of the year's most pleasing surprises so far, Hit Man succeeds thanks to great writing, great actors and great filmmaking. Linklater executes an intriguing, original premise with sparkling wit and engaging characters, resulting in a slick, funny, sexy and captivating ride that far exceeds the usual standard for braindead blockbusters.

7.9/10

With a screenplay by Paul Schrader (Taxi Driver, Raging Bull) and Heywood Gould (The Boys from Brazil), Rolling Thunder is a rock-solid '70s vigilante action-thriller that deserves more respect and attention. Like most notable '70s thrillers, Rolling Thunder does require patience as the film steadily builds, with director John Flynn (Best Seller, Lock Up) showing more interest in character drama than outright action. The film succeeds thanks to the excellent performances, fascinating characters, absorbing dialogue, and gripping moments of violence, with Flynn ensuring the picture is a consistently enthralling sit between the shootouts. Indeed, it is not merely a cheap exploitation movie, nor does it feel like another worthless Death Wish knockoff - in fact, it confidently surpasses the landmark Charles Bronson classic. Unsurprisingly, Rolling Thunder ranks among Quentin Tarantino's favourite movies and is one of his major cinematic influences.


In 1973, U.S. Air Force Major Charlie Rane (William Devane) returns to his hometown of San Antonio, along with a few of his fellow soldiers, including Master Sergeant Johnny Vohden (Tommy Lee Jones). Rane spent seven years in a prisoner-of-war camp in Hanoi, and his Texas home is no longer the same: his son (Jordan Gerler) does not remember him, while his wife (Lisa Blake Richards) is now engaged to a local policeman (Lawrason Driscoll) with no plans to call off the wedding. With no choice but to stoically accept his wife's decision, he concentrates on building a meaningful relationship with his son while a Texan belle named Linda (Linda Haynes) begins making advances towards him. At Rane's homecoming ceremony, he receives a Cadillac and a case of silver dollars, but this gift makes him a target for a group of border outlaws. During a home invasion, The Texan (James Best), Automatic Slim (Luke Askew), T-Bird (Charles Escamilla), and Melio (Pete Ortega) steal the silver dollars and shoot Rane's family, leaving them for dead. Although Rane survives, he refuses to cooperate with law enforcement because he wants to hunt the gang down personally by following them into Mexico, and he enlists Vohden's help to dole out justice.

The Vietnam War angle is glorified window dressing, as the story is not actually about Rane's POW traumas or the impact of his experiences while readjusting to life back in Texas. However, it does give Rane and Vohden tangible character depth, as both are mentally withdrawn and weary with ostensibly little to live for, and their decision to risk their lives in the climactic shootout seems blasé since they feel they have nothing to lose. Additionally, Rane's family life - with an unfaithful wife and a son who does not remember him - viscerally reflects the experiences of Vietnam War veterans, while his flashbacks to his torture in Hanoi during the home invasion add an interesting angle to the sequence. The thematic relevance elevates Rolling Thunder above the ordinary, with excellent performances across the board contributing to the movie's power. Gould's rewrites of Schrader's original screenplay added monologues and more characterisation for Rane, though many of the monologues were cut, with Devane instead opting for a terse, stoic performance reminiscent of Steve McQueen. Devane is superb here, saying more with expressions than words as he looks calm despite palpable anger and frustration boiling inside. Meanwhile, Jones (who appears uncharacteristically young here) is equally terrific, with both actors capably demonstrating the mental scars of their Vietnam experience.


Flynn takes his time in the picture's first act, dedicating the initial half-hour to pure drama and character development as Rane arrives home and begins readjusting before the violence breaks out. Although the home invasion is not shocking by modern standards, the sequence disturbed test audiences, with 20th Century Fox losing the distribution rights after insisting on re-editing to soften the film's impact. Maintaining Flynn's vision is critical to Rolling Thunder's success as it feels like the work of a genuine auteur instead of a diluted, mainstream studio product. Flynn orchestrates the action with a sure hand, never holding back in depicting graphic violence but ensuring the movie does not feel sadistic or mean-spirited. The stylish cinematography by Jordan Cronenweth (Blade Runner) is consistently eye-catching, with the lighting and composition making the most of the dingy, dimly-lit locations. Indeed, Rolling Thunder does not look like a cheap or nasty straight-to-video action offering, as it exhibits incredible visual gravitas that belies the meagre $2 million budget. The climax is eerily similar to Taxi Driver, with both films involving a brutal shootout at a brothel. However, character motivations differ despite Charlie Rane and Travis Bickle being Vietnam War veterans.

At its heart, Rolling Thunder is a pure vigilante film that follows a formulaic structure, with a wronged man hunting down the people responsible for his family's death. However, it is also a tragic story about a man who tries to do the right thing by serving his country but winds up losing everything he holds dear, which resonates after the film concludes. Furthermore, the first-rate execution ensures the movie is more memorable than more standard-order action flicks, with a traumatised Vietnam veteran as the central character and competent filmmaking across the board. It does not carry the same thematic poignancy as 1982's First Blood, but it's still a classic manly movie with plenty to recommend. Those who enjoy films like Death Wish and Taxi Driver should seek this one out.

7.8/10

Finding a worthwhile shark movie in a veritable ocean of forgettable and underwhelming titles is increasingly difficult, but 2024's Under Paris confidently emerges as the best shark film offering since The Shallows in 2016. A French creature feature from director Xavier Gens (Gangs of London, Lupin), Under Paris is an environmentally-minded shark movie with messages about the impacts of climate change, but it thankfully does not neglect the key things that genre aficionados crave in these types of flicks: vicious violence and shark action. The screenplay by Yaël Langmann and Olivier Torres is not original, but the Paris setting makes the story feel somewhat fresh, and Gens gets plenty of mileage from the intense set pieces as man-eating predators feed on hapless Parisians. Supported by a generous budget and an adult-friendly rating that permits graphic bloodletting, the movie delivers what it promises on the tin. It's not perfect, but Under Paris is a fun ride that holds up during rewatches.


A French scientist, Sophia (Bérénice Bejo) and her team study mako sharks to observe the effects of ocean pollution, keeping tabs on one particular shark named Lilith by implanting a tracker. However, during one seemingly routine expedition, a group of sharks eat several members of Sophia's research team, including her husband, leaving her traumatised and reeling from the experience. Years later, Lilith's tracker indicates that she now resides in Paris's Seine River, with activists Mika (Lea Leviant) and Ben (Nagisa Morimoto) informing Sophia of the unexpected development. Paris is days away from hosting the World Triathlon Championships in the Seine, and the city's mayor (Anne Marivin) refuses to accept there is any significant cause for concern, let alone cancel the event. Teaming up with a local river commander, Adil (Nassim Lyes), Sophia finds herself in a tricky situation, with Mika and Ben hoping to safely return Lilith to the ocean while the police want to destroy the predator in the name of public safety.

With a relatively beefy 103-minute running time, Gens dedicates much of the relatively sedate first half to build up and anticipation, with characters mostly observing Lilith through her digital tracker as she moves through Paris waterways. But all hell breaks loose at the halfway mark, with an insane feeding frenzy paving the way for a fast-paced, carnage-filled second half. Insistence on realism frequently hampers contemporary shark movies, with low body counts (only one death occurs in 2022's The Reef: Stalked) and a refusal to cut loose, but Under Paris avoids these shortcomings. Gens does not wink at the audience, but he embraces the B-movie spirit of the material, delivering competent set pieces with plenty of bite and embracing the R rating with gusto. Big-budget shark movies are rare, but R-rated big-budget shark films are even rarer, with the two Meg movies to date suffering from PG-13 sanitisation. Fortunately, Gens does not hold back here; he unleashes Lilith and her countless babies as they chew their way through numerous victims, with attacks ranging from the more unnerving (sharks quickly pulling someone underwater in a pool of blood) to the ludicrous (jumping several feet into the air with a swimmer in their mouth). Under Paris is more of an action flick than a horror movie, with Gens favouring the schlocky over the scary, even depicting armed militia fighting sharks during the climax.


Gens pays homage to classic shark movies, with yellow net floats signifying Lilith's position in the water (reminiscent of the yellow barrels in Jaws) and two sharks ripping a victim apart, which evokes memories of Samuel L. Jackson's memorable death scene in Deep Blue Sea. Fortunately, Under Paris carries more visual chutzpah than standard-order direct-to-video shark movies, with slick, stylish cinematography, impressive scope, and surprisingly convincing digital effects. The sharks are not always photorealistic, with the computer-generated man-eaters occasionally looking goofy and cartoonish (especially during slow-motion shots as they leap out of the water), but the illusion is good enough for the most part, and it illustrates how much shark CGI has progressed since Deep Blue Sea in 1998. With cinematographer Nicolas Massart (Lupin) capturing the action using digital cameras instead of celluloid, Under Paris carries a hyperrealistic aesthetic, and your mileage may vary depending on your tolerance for slick contemporary visuals.

The characters in Under Paris are not immune from acts of stupidity, with one egregiously idiotic character causing her own demise by trusting Lilith in one of the movie's most memorable kill scenes. Additionally, the mayor refusing to cancel the triathlon (another ostensible Jaws homage, particularly with gunmen on boats nearby to protect the swimmers) also seems ridiculous, but the contrivances at least result in satisfying carnage. Under Paris does not feature any big stars by Hollywood standards, though the French-speaking actors are notable in their native country. Luckily, the performers are surprisingly strong here, with Bérénice Bejo (The Artist) and Nassim Lyes making the biggest impression as the two leads. Bejo brings believable gravitas and intensity to her role, ensuring she comes across as a properly fleshed-out character instead of a mere caricature.


Gens increasingly ups the ante during the intense lead-up to the climax, refusing to hold back as the sharks eat key characters and make a meal of the dozens of triathletes. Even though it appears that the situation cannot get worse, Gens pulls the carpet out from underneath us once again, leading to an unexpectedly cataclysmic ending that stands as one of the most memorable and dire in shark movie history. Despite its occasionally preachy messages about climate change, Under Paris is a dopey movie by design, asking viewers to accept silly moments and the central premise of these sharks wanting to attack humans, but that's par for the course in this subgenre. What matters is that, aside from the slow-going first half, the movie delivers satisfying shark action in spades. Like 2023's Godzilla: Minus One, Under Paris is a foreign production that effortlessly surpasses Hollywood's latest blockbuster output, showing how to do such a genre movie correctly.

7.1/10

Another HBO television film (co-produced by BBC Films) that recounts true events, 2001's Conspiracy presents a dramatisation of the notorious 1942 Wannsee Conference. In January 1942, in a wealthy district outside of Berlin, fifteen Nazi officials held a conference to determine how to achieve "a complete solution" to the "Jewish question." At this point, the United States had entered the Second World War, and German defeat was possible, throwing Hitler's thousand-year regime into doubt. Reich Security Main Office Chief Reinhard Heydrich (Kenneth Branagh) served as the conference's Chair, leading the discussion to address a directive from Hermann Göring to ensure a Jewish-free society in Germany and their occupied territories. Accompanied by high-ranking members from all areas of the Nazi government, Heydrich ultimately introduces the notion of the "Final Solution" to the Jewish question: the wholesale extermination of European Jews in gas chambers.


Scripted by veteran writer and playwright Loring Mandel, Conspiracy is not the first motion picture portrayal of the Wannsee Conference, as the 1984 German telemovie Die Wannseekonferenz (a.k.a. The Wannsee Conference), previously depicted the events. However, Conspiracy is the first and only English-language dramatisation of the conference. Indeed, the German characters speak only in English throughout the film, and it is crucial to accept this to become adequately invested in the story. Thankfully, with the production exhibiting a high level of aesthetic authenticity and containing an ensemble of superb actors delivering captivating dialogue, it is easy to accept the English-speaking characters. The only surviving documentation of the conference provided the basis for Mandel's screenplay, though the producers sought additional research and records (including memos, trial transcripts, and speeches) during pre-production. Gaps in the historical record required dramatic interpretation, but the resulting film is highly effective; it is an unnerving, bone-chilling recount that never reeks of Hollywoodisation or sensationalism.

Cinematographer Stephen Goldblatt (Lethal Weapon, The Pelican Brief) captured Conspiracy on 16mm film, resulting in an appreciable sense of visual authenticity and gravitas that belies its made-for-TV origins. Filming on 16mm instead of 35mm was necessitated by the creative decision to shoot the main conference sequence in long takes, with the actors delivering up to twenty pages of dialogue at a time. Thankfully, Goldblatt keeps the proceedings interesting with his cinematographic compositions; the camera never remains static as each shot exhibits movement, no matter how subtle, from typical pans and tilts to slight handheld jerkiness. Fortunately, the camera is never distractingly shaky, and the handheld photography adds a sense of immediacy that enhances the sublime pacing. Director Frank Pierson (writer of Cool Hand Luke and Dog Day Afternoon) and editor Peter Zinner create a fluid, spellbinding rhythm, never dwelling on shots for too long while also ensuring the cutting is never choppy or distractingly rapid-fire. Furthermore, aside from a short musical interlude at the end, there is no music throughout the film, as Pierson relies on the performances, editing and cinematography to maintain interest. In short, Conspiracy is a masterclass on creating an engaging movie that takes place in a single location.


The production's commitment to historical authenticity is commendable, with everything from the uniforms to the set design looking wholly convincing. Director Pierson even staged exterior scenes at the villa where the actual conference took place, and the meeting room represents a faithful recreation of how it looked at the time of the Wannsee Conference. The actors are another high point, with Pierson extracting nuanced performances from the talented ensemble. Although the notion of playing Heydrich was incredibly unsettling for Kenneth Branagh, his performance is nevertheless immaculate, showing a laudable dedication to portraying this horrific SS Officer. Branagh's portrayal of Heydrich appears emotionally detached from the talking points, showing a chilling lack of compunction or remorse while suggesting the genocidal extinction of an entire race. Branagh confidently drives the film with his performance, ensuring that Conspiracy works as well as it does. Other recognisable performers fill the ensemble, with Stanley Tucci, Colin Firth, Ian McNeice and Kevin McNally all making an outstanding impression as members of the Nazi party. (Tom Hiddleston, the future Loki, even has a small background role in his feature film debut.) Tucci is the only American actor here, though he espouses a British accent to match his co-stars. Even though it is difficult to recall names (especially since the names are German), the characters are distinct in appearance and personality, ensuring that you will not become confused about who's who.

With its top-notch ensemble cast, excellent writing, and superb technical presentation, Conspiracy is another magnificent production that demonstrates why HBO television films command a higher level of esteem than their lower-budgeted counterparts. Although the film boils down to a 90-minute conversation as characters discuss unseen events, it's incredibly gripping and disturbing, and it will stay with you for a long time.

9.2/10

A fascinating and largely forgotten HBO television film from the 1990s, Citizen X tells the true story of the Soviet Union's most notorious and prolific serial killer. Written and directed by Chris Gerolmo, who based the teleplay on Robert Cullen's novel The Killer Department, Citizen X faithfully portrays the rudimentary facts of the case, only making minor adjustments for the sake of smooth storytelling. Although this is primarily an investigative crime film, it is also a top-notch historical and political drama about the USSR in the 1980s and early '90s. The result is one of the most underrated serial killer films in history.


A depraved, sadistic serial killer, Andrei Chikatilo (Jeffrey DeMunn) killed at least 52 people over twelve years, mostly murdering children and people with mental disabilities. Chikatilo encountered his victims at Soviet train stations before luring them into the woods, where he engaged in sexual assault and mutilation. Citizen X picks up in the 1980s, when evidence first emerged of Chikatilo's crimes as bodies were discovered in a wooded area. After overseeing the initial autopsies and beginning work on the case, forensic specialist Viktor Burakov (Stephen Rea) receives a promotion to detective, while a committee of Russian bureaucrats hinder his investigative efforts at every turn. However, through the years, Burakov is aided by his commanding officer, Col. Mikhail Fetisov (Donald Sutherland). The men bond through their shared desire to find and prosecute the killer in the face of obnoxious, stubborn political roadblocks.

What separates Citizen X from more run-of-the-mill murder mysteries is the true-life setting and the unique circumstances surrounding the case. The Soviet Union's strict state bureaucracy frequently impedes the investigation, denying valuable resources and shooting down investigative strategies (including publicity) because they cannot openly admit that such a depraved man actually exists. Indeed, official government policy states that serial killers are a product of Western decadence and cannot exist in the USSR. Furthermore, the screenplay is a masterclass of subtle yet effective world-building, as viewers can draw conclusions about what life was like in the Soviet Union through character actions and dialogue. Instead of exposition, the naturalistic character interactions paint a vivid picture, from discussions about waiting for a bigger apartment (remember, this was a communist country) to politicians refusing to seek help from American investigators for fear of appearing weak. Additionally, local politicians used the case as an opportunity to prosecute homosexuals while staunchly protecting loyal members of the communist party, which allowed Chikatilo to evade arrest and continue killing for years. Gerolmo even conveys the passage of time through a changing series of wall photographs depicting Russia's premiers over the years. The writing is nuanced and layered, making Citizen X an absorbing watch.


With filming taking place in Hungary, Citizen X carries an astonishing sense of authenticity; this truly feels like the USSR during the 1980s, and everything feels intensely real. Gerolmo stages the murders with commendable restraint, relying on the power of suggestion instead of outright gore. Burakov's gruesome, detailed descriptions of his autopsy findings at the beginning of the film outline the horrors that each victim sustained at Chikatilo's hands, making the sequence more powerful and haunting than a graphic murder scene could be. The only downside to Citizen X is the lack of visual panache. It looks and feels like a television movie, with pedestrian cinematography and basic direction, which results in dull pacing from time to time. The film's matter-of-factness is a considerable asset more often than not since it does not feel like an overproduced, mainstream Hollywood production, but Citizen X still falls short of its full potential.

Gerolmo finds immense power in simple actions and dialogue, from Burakov mentally breaking down over the case to family members reacting to news of their deceased loved ones. One of the film's most potent scenes depicts psychiatrist Dr. Alexandr Bukhanovsky (Max von Sydow) reading out his detailed profile of the killer to Chikatilo, which compels the stubborn, closely-guarded murderer to break down and confess to his crimes. The performances are superb, with Citizen X featuring a mix of recognisable actors and little-known performers. Jeffrey DeMunn earned a Primetime Emmy nomination for his harrowing portrayal of Chikatilo, a daring role the actor fully commits to. As Burakov, Stephen Rea's performance is subtle yet profound. The Irish actor convincingly plays a Russian native while conveying a cornucopia of emotions, including frustration and mental fatigue. Donald Sutherland likewise impresses as a more level-headed Soviet bureaucrat, masking his native American accent with ostensible ease. Sutherland deservedly won a Primetime Emmy for his performance, denoting the movie's sole Emmy win. Max von Sydow only appears in the story's third act, yet the late actor makes a fantastic impression as the methodical psychiatrist who plays a vital role in the investigation. Also of note is Joss Ackland, who is petrifying as the callous party leader, personifying the Soviet Union's villainous nature.


Gripping, edifying and challenging to forget, Citizen X is a genre standout because the serial killer himself is a secondary story focus. First and foremost, the movie is all about the extensive investigation and the political climate in the USSR, with the state's mistakes, beliefs and lack of ethics appearing almost as horrifying as the murders themselves. The film closes with customary title cards that reveal the extent of Chikatilo's crimes and his ultimate fate before the final scene coldly portrays his execution, with Gerolmo maintaining his unglamorous, bitter, realistic approach to storytelling through to the end. Citizen X is not an easy watch, nor is it particularly entertaining, but it preserves an important story with excellent actors and a staggering sense of authenticity, making this a recommended watch for fans of films like Memories of Murder.

7.9/10

Based on real diary entries detailing the haunting, untold experiences from the Western Front in the First World War, 2024's Before Dawn is a perfectly competent Australian war picture that pays tribute to the ANZACs who sacrificed their lives in the service of their country. With a screenplay by Jarrad Russell (his first writing credit), Before Dawn features the usual assortment of war experiences that now look like mere clichés: trench warfare, mud, unsavoury conditions, charging across no man's land, callous leadership, stoic sergeants, mateship, losing friends, sharing cigarettes, pensive reflections, et cetera. It's not a large-scale war movie featuring wall-to-wall combat (do not expect something comparable to Hacksaw Ridge or Saving Private Ryan), nor does director Jordon Prince-Wright necessarily offer anything new, but the anti-war message is effective, the battles are hard-hitting, and the sense of authenticity is outstanding. Nevertheless, Before Dawn lacks compelling characterisation, which renders the movie proficient but sometimes hollow and unengaging.


A young Australian boy, Jim Collins (Levi Miller) grew up on a sheep station in the outback, and finds himself torn during the Great War as his friends begin to sign up for military service. Although Jim's family needs his assistance on the station, he cannot turn his back on mateship or sit idly by while others fight overseas, and he eventually decides to enlist. On the mud-drenched battlefields of France, Jim joins the likes of Thomas (Travis Jeffery), Don (Ed Oxenbould), and Ned (Jordan Dulieu), but they are soon faced with the harsh realities of war.

Russell's screenplay structures Before Dawn as an episodic, plotless collection of vignettes portraying an array of wartime experiences, from innocuous conversations, card games and meal breaks to aimless minor conflicts and close calls with enemy sharpshooters. Title cards inform us of the elapsed time, with the movie chronicling events throughout the war, concluding on Armistice Day in 1918. The intentions are noble, with Prince-Wright depicting the monotony of everyday life in the trenches, but the movie struggles to maintain interest throughout its relatively brisk 100-minute running time. Without compelling characterisations, meaty drama or witty dialogue, Before Dawn only succeeds in fits and starts, and, unfortunately, it's difficult to genuinely care about the characters as they only feature surface-level attributes. Brief flashbacks to life before the war in the Australian outback feel mostly perfunctory and do not achieve much in developing the characters or their relationships, with the soldiers still coming across as generic. Prince-Wright should have dedicated screen time to basic training instead.


Unfortunately, despite a competent performance, Levi Miller lacks the presence to be a memorable leading man, while the ensemble cast of mostly unknowns does not make much of an impression. Especially when compared to 1981's Gallipoli or the 1985 miniseries Anzacs (which had the iconic Paul Hogan), the lack of personality in Before Dawn's characters sticks out all the more. The only cast member with genuine gravitas is Myles Pollard as Sgt Beaufort, though some of his antics are somewhat cartoonish. (For example, he openly chastises soldiers for wanting to help a wounded man.) Furthermore, there are no character arcs here, as the soldiers do not meaningfully change or learn lessons through their experiences. Sure, the soldiers do seem more weary towards the war's end, but this does not generate gripping dramatic interest. Plus, for the most part, the dialogue sounds generic, though some of the voiceover narration is suitably poetic.

With a reported budget around the $10 million mark, Before Dawn looks visually impressive, with Prince-Wright and the crew convincingly transforming rural Western Australian locations into European battlefields. Cinematographer Daniel Quinn slickly captures the action, giving the visuals a genuine sense of gravitas and ensuring this does not feel like a cheap, direct-to-video production. (Although 35mm photography, like 2010's excellent Beneath Hill 60, would have been more appropriate for a production like this.) Before Dawn also carries impressive attention to detail in the costumes and props, with the soldiers wearing filthy, mud-covered ANZAC uniforms, enhancing the production's overall sense of authenticity. Additionally, the sound design is awe-inspiring and state-of-the-art, allowing viewers to viscerally experience trench warfare through the constant din of gunfire and explosions, while Sean Tinnion's original score adds another layer of technical proficiency. The presentation is first-rate, with Prince-Wright going to great pains to allow audiences to feel like they have been taken back in time, making the most of the picture's limited scope.


Before Dawn climaxes with an impressive battle sequence that portrays the ANZACs assaulting a German trench, and the resulting set piece is both enthralling and exciting, representing one of the picture's true highlights. Prince-Wright also gets ample mileage from depicting the horrors of trench warfare, with rats and corpses becoming a part of everyday life, making this an edifying sit for high school students who are interested in history and the ANZACs. (The filmmakers deliberately delayed the movie for 7-8 months after completion to release it closer to ANZAC Day.) It's nothing new, but it is effective nevertheless. With a stronger dramatic core, Before Dawn could have become a new anti-war classic in a similar vein to 1981's Gallipoli. As it is, it's worthwhile but inessential viewing.

6.2/10

An ideal companion piece to 2006's Kokoda, the made-for-television Parer's War finds director Alister Grierson overseeing another World War II story involving Australia's efforts fighting the Japanese in Papua New Guinea. Scripted by the late Alison Nisselle, who adapted Neil McDonald's 1994 novel, Parer's War is not about a specific soldier or military campaign; instead, it's about renowned war photographer Damien Parer, whose 1942 documentary short Kokoda Front Line! earned an Oscar (Australia's first Academy Award). Parer's War is actually the second telemovie about Parer, following 1988's Fragments of War: The Story of Damien Parer, though Grierson's production has the benefit of contemporary special effects and a larger budget.


A combat cameraman, Damien Parer (Matthew Le Nevez) risks his life to capture footage of Australian Imperial Force (AIF) soldiers on the frontlines of the Second World War. After working on the battlefields of New Guinea to film Australia fighting the Japanese, including along the Kokoda Trail, Parer returns to Australia to deliver the reels to his employers at the Department of Information. However, the Department improperly handles his footage, deceiving the public by glamorising frontline combat, leading to intense dissatisfaction from Parer, who desperately wants to tell the truth about the conditions under which Australia is fighting overseas. Parer wishes to return to the battlefield alongside the infantry to continue his essential work, but the Department assigns him to cover "fluff" pieces, leading to intense disagreements. Meanwhile, between his deployments, Parer meets Marie Cotter (Adelaide Clemens), and the pair begin an intimate relationship that gradually blossoms.

It is easy to see why Parer's story was selected for dramatisation, as it carries all the hallmarks of a satisfying, mainstream-friendly war movie. Parer's efforts on the frontline invoke a strong anti-war message, resulting in powerful imagery of wounded soldiers in the aftermath of battle, while the photographer's disagreements with the Australian government are distinctly anti-bureaucratic. Additionally, Parer's relationship with Marie adds further dramatic weight to the story, and the movie culminates with a potent gut punch of an ending. The story's historical accuracy is unclear, but the broad strokes are true-to-life and nothing reeks of egregious Hollywoodisation. (Parer having a PTSD flashback is too on-the-nose, however.) Unfortunately, despite mostly competent performances from a capable cast, Grierson's storytelling is not always engaging. The movie does spring to life in fits and starts, particularly when dealing with beefy story material (for example, Parer's employer releasing uncleared footage that puts the troops at risk) or when Parer is working alongside the AIF soldiers. However, things are often too sedate when Parer is in Australia, with the film needing a more robust editing rhythm.


Working with a modest budget, Grierson and his crew believably recreate Australia in the 1940s, nailing everything from the fashion to the household decor, while a selection of old-fashioned songs fills the soundtrack. Newsreel footage looks rough and grainy, and the accompanying sound is spot-on, from the dramatic music to the audio's distinctly "mono" pitch. Furthermore, the wartorn frontlines in New Guinea look convincing, showing an encouraging attention to detail in the military uniforms and vehicles, as well as the production design. Grierson stages several fierce battle scenes, though the violence is noticeably tame due to the picture's television origins, which does detract from the intensity. However, the cinematography is more problematic. Although the movie looks well-composed and carries an evocative colour palette, there is no getting past the clean, glossy digital photography, which instantly makes Parer's War look like a low-budget made-for-TV movie. War stories from this period require more grit to heighten realism and verisimilitude. Particularly with Parer shooting on film reels during the movie, it would have been more appropriate from a thematic and aesthetical standpoint for cinematographer Mark Wareham (Kokoda, Underbelly) to shoot the picture on 35mm film. Despite the credible period detail and a similar budget to Kokoda, it looks noticeably chintzy.

Parer's War is not a masterpiece that rivals cinema's greatest war pictures, but it's a competent television movie that effectively preserves an intriguing story. Despite its technical and storytelling shortcomings, it deserves more attention, especially from movie-goers who enjoy war films.

7.0/10

Before the iconic 2001 miniseries Band of Brothers, HBO produced several made-for-television war films during the 1990s. In addition to A Bright Shining Lie and the brilliant When Trumpets Fade, there was 1995's The Tuskegee Airmen, which tells the story of the first African-American combat pilots to serve in the United States Army Air Corps, who fought in the Second World War. It's a relevant and appropriate story that deserves feature film exploration, with the squadron overcoming intense racism, criticism and prejudice for the opportunity to prove their worth by fighting for their country. Real-life WWII combat pilot Captain Robert W. Williams (one of the real Tuskegee Airmen) actually contributed to the teleplay, working with screenwriter T. S. Cook to develop a movie that mixes fact and fiction to tell this story earnestly and faithfully. Although imperfect, The Tuskegee Airmen is an effective and absorbing war movie with impressive combat scenes and sturdy performances, while the story carries significant emotional weight.


During World War II, the U.S. Army Air Corps establishes a program to train African-American pilots to fight in combat. Seeking to put his life on the line to serve his country, Hannibal Lee (Laurence Fishburne) boards a train to Tuskegee, Alabama, joining fellow flight cadet candidates Billy Roberts (Cuba Gooding Jr.), Walter Peoples (Allen Payne) and Lewis Johns (Mekhi Phifer). Upon arrival at the air base, they encounter the racist director of training, Major Sherman Joy (Christopher McDonald), and their liaison officer, Second Lieutenant Glenn (Courtney B. Vance), who hopes to see the cadets prove the naysayers wrong by finishing the training and going on to serve in the war. Almost immediately, the cadets encounter racist opposition, with continuous obstacles in the form of bureaucrats who doubt their competence in combat. Even after many cadets finish their training, the Army is reluctant to give them important assignments, with prejudicial views continuing to hinder them as they strive to prove themselves.

Although the Tuskegee Airmen were an actual unit, most of the characters here are fictitious composite characters, except for Colonel Davis, who was a real person and is depicted accurately here. Despite a brisk 106-minute running time, The Tuskegee Airmen covers ample content, tracking the team from their arrival at basic training to getting their wings and flying dangerous missions while bureaucrats continually attempt to ground the squadron for good. Director Robert Markowitz (a television veteran) maintains a robust pace throughout the movie, with engaging storytelling whether the squadron is in the air or on the ground. The exceptional cast is an enormous help in this respect, with Laurence Fishburne emanating gravitas and charisma as the fictitious Hannibal Lee. Alongside him, actors like Cuba Gooding Jr., Courtney B. Vance, Allen Payne and the superb late Andre Braugher provide fantastic support, giving personality and life to their respective roles. Additionally, John Lithgow and Christopher McDonald are equally excellent in more antagonistic roles, while Ed Lauter also makes a positive impression as a United States General. Lithgow is especially notable, as he plays a vile senator whose reports rely on exaggeration and lies to discredit the Tuskegee Airmen. Admittedly, particularly with Ronald Orieux's cinematography lacking in dynamicity, some scenes feel too stagy and feature pedestrian dialogue, but the slower moments are thankfully infrequent.


HBO clearly spared no expense in bringing The Tuskegee Airmen to screens, with an estimated $8.5 million budget that is abnormally high for a television movie. For the most part, the technical execution is incredibly impressive, with the production design, sets and costumes recreating the 1940s with a commendable attention to detail. Even the soundtrack choices reflect the era, while award-winning composer Lee Holdridge provides an exciting, stirring, militaristic score. During the aerial action scenes, editor David Beatty splices in several rough-looking archival shots of planes and explosions that exhibit chunkier grain and pronounced print damage, making them stand out all the more amid the crisp material shot during production. Although their inclusion ostensibly assists the production's sense of verisimilitude, the archival footage stands out like dogs' balls. Nevertheless, the action scenes are fluid and rousing, and despite the movie's PG rating, the violence does not feel overly tame or neutered. With the increased reliance on digital effects in 2024, it is satisfying to see practical special effects, sets, and location filming here, and, especially with Orieux capturing the movie on 35mm film, nothing reeks of artificiality.

The Tuskegee Airmen sensitively deals with inflammatory topics. As a result, the movie is edifying and dramatically satisfying, presenting the reality of the story without striving to drive home an unsubtle agenda. The movie delivers several powerful scenes, from an impromptu landing in front of a chain gang to Davis's heartfelt testimony when the House Armed Services Committee considers whether to disband the Tuskegee Airmen. Admittedly, a fully-fledged miniseries focusing on the real airmen would be the ideal way to tell this story with all its intricacies and political machinations (Masters of the Air briefly includes the Tuskegee Airmen), but this telemovie remains a terrific dramatisation. With compelling performances, exciting action scenes, impressive special effects and competent storytelling, The Tuskegee Airmen is worth your attention.

7.6/10

Arriving seven years after War for the Planet of the Apes, 2024's Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes is fundamentally a legacy sequel that picks up hundreds of years after the previous trilogy, setting the stage for another series of films exploring the next generation of apes. With Dawn and War architect Matt Reeves moving into the Batman universe, Wes Ball takes over directorial duties here, having demonstrated his ability to handle post-apocalyptic material in the Maze Runner trilogy. Written by Josh Friedman (War of the Worlds, The Black Dahlia), who is equally new to this series, Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes finds fertile new narrative ground, ensuring this does not feel like a cheap, quick or unnecessary sequel, which is more than what can be said for several of the sequels to the original Planet of the Apes. With its immaculate, state-of-the-art visual effects and impactful action set pieces, Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes respectfully continues this reboot series without cheapening the franchise. It feels like another visionary production instead of committee-designed garbage.


Many generations after Caesar's death, apes are the planet's dominant species and have established several independent clans, while humans have regressed to feral, mute primitives. Noa (Owen Teague) is a member of the Eagle Clan, a society of chimpanzees who live peacefully and practice falconry with golden eagles. Preparing for his coming-of-age ceremony with help from friends Soona (Lydia Peckham) and Anaya (Travis Jeffery), Noa soon encounters a squad of hostile soldier apes led by a bonobo named Proximus Caesar (Kevin Durand). Considering himself a king, Proximus perverts Caesar's teachings for his own purposes and hopes to become the era's new all-powerful founding father by enslaving other apes. After attacking Noa's village, Proximus and his minions kill several apes and capture the rest, with an unconscious Noa left for dead after a scuffle with Proximus's chief commander, Sylva (Eka Darville). Seeking to save what remains of his family, Noa heads out in search of Proximus's settlement and soon meets a wise orangutan, Raka (Peter Macon), who tries to keep Caesar's legacy alive by verbally spreading his true teachings. To their amazement, they also encounter a human named Mae (Freya Allen), who is still capable of speech and intelligent thought. The trio work together as they cross through dangerous terrain, with Mae explaining that Proximus set up his settlement at an old human bunker where the bonobo hopes to discover ancient secrets able to unlock a more robust future for his apes.

Like its predecessors, Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes borrows and repurposes ideas from the original Planet of the Apes films. For example, the notion of different ape factions battling each other and disputing human allegiances is reminiscent of Battle for the Planet of the Apes, and Kingdom also offers our first glimpse at primitive humans who drink water in streams alongside wild animals. Friedman's script contains other reverential and affectionate callbacks to the original franchise, including the apes discovering a talking doll that emits the same sound as the doll from a similar scene from 1968's Planet of the Apes. With Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes introducing a whole new slate of characters, it takes some time to fully engage with the movie and become invested in the story. It is initially difficult to distinguish the new ape characters from one another, making it hard to latch onto any of them or even recognise them until Noa begins his journey. The pacing is not always ideal, as Ball admittedly struggles to maintain momentum throughout the second act in particular. Kingdom is the longest of the new Planet of the Apes pictures, clocking in at a gargantuan 145 minutes, and it could have been cut down to around the two-hour mark without losing any powerful moments. Indeed, it does not achieve enough to justify the long runtime.


With the quality of visual effects in mainstream blockbusters seemingly diminishing in recent years, it is genuinely exciting and satisfying to witness movies like Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, which remind us how excellent CGI can be in the right hands. Wētā FX continues to up the ante in terms of digital effects, filling the movie with astonishingly lifelike, photorealistic apes. The VFX are not cartoonish or phoney, nor do they consistently remind us that the apes are not real; instead, our brains instantly accept these characters as living, breathing, soulful creatures. From the realistic facial expressions to the incredible attention to detail on skin and fur, the chimpanzees, orangutans, bonobos, and gorillas look extraordinary, making it easy to appreciate the decision to use computer-generated imagery instead of prosthetics. Filming large portions of the movie in real locations and on real sets with the performers helps the illusion, as tangible things surround the computer-generated creatures, making the visuals more realistic. Of course, some sequences use green-screening, but the movie is not pure soundstage work.

Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes carries a vast $160 million pricetag, but it's a comparatively sensible budget considering the out-of-control costs for most recent blockbusters, with Disney productions now frequently exceeding the $300 million mark. Without any movie stars eating up tens of millions of dollars, more money was available for other areas of production, resulting in a rare level of technical proficiency. Kingdom's scope is vast, with Noa venturing through the overgrown ruins of cities, and the post-apocalyptic imagery is genuinely striking. Unfortunately, despite a game cast of mostly unknowns, the new characters are not as compelling as those from the previous trilogy, with Owen Teague as Noa, in particular, coming across as more generic and forgettable, especially compared to Andy Serkis's incomparable portrayal of Caesar. The underrated Kevin Durand makes a strong impression as the antagonistic Proximus Caesar, but the character is not as interesting as Toby Kebbell's memorable Koba. However, Freya Allen makes an astounding impression as one of the few human characters, delivering a nuanced performance for which she conveys more with facial expressions than words. William H. Macy is the most recognisable performer as a human who amicably allies himself with the apes and teaches human history. Macy brings a believable, world-weary demeanour to the role, making him an excellent fit for the character.


The conceptual ideas behind Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes are strong, with ape society showing religious-esque segmentation and prejudice, and looking to study human history. It's a strong foundation for a new planned trilogy, leaving ideas for further instalments to explore in greater detail. Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes is sometimes dull and needs stronger characterisation, but it does more right than wrong, justifying its existence. Although it is the fourth entry in this new series, there are no signs of fatigue or creative bankruptcy, making this one of the most reliable franchises in recent memory.

7.8/10