Reviews by PvtCaboose91

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

After achieving tremendous commercial success and enthusiastic audience responses with The Mummy and The Mummy Returns, writer-director Stephen Sommers continued his penchant for reinterpreting iconic Universal monsters as big-budget action-adventures with 2004's Van Helsing. Instead of just one monster, Van Helsing mashes together material from Dracula, Frankenstein and The Wolf Man, adapting the mythology with a contemporary blockbuster sensibility. Furthermore, instead of an old, veteran vampire chaser (as previously played by Peter Cushing and Anthony Hopkins), the titular Van Helsing here is a suave, athletic action hero clad in leather, rendering this a unique interpretation of the age-old material. Although Van Helsing endured a critical mauling upon its release in 2004, the movie is surprisingly endearing and fun, with Sommers effortlessly recapturing the joyful vigour and spirit of his earlier endeavours. It's undeniably too long and narratively convoluted, but it's a competent blockbuster with a charming cast and first-rate technical specs, and the all-in-good-fun fireworks show confidently stands up twenty years later.


A monster hunter with memory loss, Gabriel Van Helsing (Hugh Jackman) hunts down and eliminates evil on behalf of the longstanding Knights of the Holy Order, reporting to Cardinal Jinette (Alun Armstrong) at the Order's Vatican City headquarters. Van Helsing also relies on a friar named Carl (David Wenham), who specialises in inventing weapons to kill various supernatural monsters. With a new threat looming, Van Helsing and Carl travel to Transylvania to kill Count Dracula (Richard Roxburgh), the vampiric son of Satan. Upon arriving at a Transylvanian town, the pair meet Anna Valerious (Kate Beckinsale), the last descendant of an ancient Romanian family who has vowed to kill Dracula or spend eternity in Purgatory. Complicating the mission is the presence of Dracula's three vampiric brides (Elena Anaya, Silvia Colloca, and Josie Maran) and a werewolf under the vampire's control. Dracula intends to duplicate Dr. Frankenstein's (Samuel West) experiments to give life to his thousands of undead spawn, but he needs Frankenstein's Monster (Shuler Hensley) to carry out his plan successfully.

Whereas Sommers drew heavy inspiration from Indiana Jones for his Mummy movies, Van Helsing feels more like a James Bond adventure, with the titular monster hunter accepting missions from a secret organisation, and relying on special gadgets and weaponry from the Q-esque Carl. Sommers even retains the typical structure of a Bond film, introducing Van Helsing as he carries out an assignment in Paris, establishing his expertise and quick thinking in combat. A fun, tongue-in-cheek sensibility runs throughout the film, with Jackman and Wenham enthusiastically delivering the comical dialogue. (After a werewolf encounter, Carl enters the room and asks, "Why does it smell like wet dog in here?".) Meanwhile, Roxburgh relishes the chance to play Count Dracula, embracing the script's inherent cheesiness. Sommers even recruits The Mummy and Deep Rising alumni Kevin J. O'Connor to play Igor (a role specifically written for the actor), and he brings ample goofy energy to the role, invigorating an otherwise shallow character. Indeed, Van Helsing's characters receive minimal development, making it difficult to care about them beyond their superficial traits - i.e. Van Helsing looks cool, Anna is attractive, Carl's goofiness is endearing, and so on. The romantic angle between Van Helsing and Anna is half-hearted at best, feeling shoehorned in for the sake of it. The climax tries to add some emotion, but it mostly falls flat.


Working with an enormous $170 million budget (nearly eclipsing the combined cost of his two Mummy adventures), Van Helsing is a fast-moving visual extravaganza that satisfies as pure eye candy. Sommers employs digital effects to bring several of the monsters to life, but other aspects of the production remain vehemently old-fashioned. Instead of solely relying on studio work and green-screening, filming occurred in various picturesque locations in Prague, Italy and France, while superb miniatures convincingly enhance the movie's sense of scope. Cinematography by the Oscar-nominated Allen Daviau (E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial) gorgeously captures the gothic production design, creating mood and atmosphere through shadows and precise lighting. It's also easy to follow the action, as Daviau relies on smooth long shots and even a little bit of slow motion, never resorting to shaky-cam or turning the carnage into a headache-inducing blur. This ended up being the late Daviau's final feature film.

Instead of slow-moving but cunning old-fashioned monsters, Van Helsing features agile, dynamic computer-generated beasties that swiftly fly, run and leap around, though characters like Frankenstein's Monster and Igor were still achieved through extensive prosthetics and make-up. Weta Digital contributed to the special effects, and they mostly hold up two decades later. Even though the digital creatures are not always entirely convincing, they are perfectly sufficient and do not stand out as distractingly phoney. Plus, the effects here easily surpass the awful CGI from the climax of The Mummy Returns. Moreover, the fact that the monsters mostly appear in practical environments helps to sell the illusion. Sommers is a dab hand at orchestrating rousing, fast-moving action set pieces, and Van Helsing contains numerous standout sequences, from the black and white opening that reinterprets the ending of Frankenstein, to an exciting early showdown with Mr. Hyde (Robbie Coltrane), a thrilling cart chase, and more. Without much character work or drama, Sommers dedicates most of Van Helsing to bombastic, overblown action, but it still comes together in an entertaining enough manner despite the lack of heart or emotion. Further assisting Sommers is composer Alan Silvestri (Back to the Future, Forrest Gump), whose original score bursts with flavour and mood, making the action scenes even more exciting.


Despite Universal's enthusiasm for sequels, and despite the movie leaving room wide open for further adventures, the box office results were underwhelming, prompting the studio to abandon their plans and let the IP rest...until their failed Dark Universe bid over a decade later. Van Helsing is undeniably silly, but it's also spectacular and entertaining, with Sommers again demonstrating his expertise in crafting fun cinematic junk food. Especially in 2024, there are far worse ways to spend two hours and there are far worse blockbusters in existence.

6.7/10

After overseeing two rock-solid Scream sequels, directors Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett return to the aesthetics and atmosphere of Ready or Not for another spirited, gory horror rollercoaster largely set in a singular picturesque location. In a similar vein to 2023's The Last Voyage of the Demeter, 2024's Abigail aims to make vampires threatening and terrifying again through stylish, shadowy visuals and unnerving sound design, trapping a group of characters in a labyrinthine spot with a ferocious member of the undead and no chance for escape. Working from a script by Stephen Shields and frequent collaborator Guy Busick, Bettinelli-Olpin and Gillett orchestrate several memorable kills and tense set pieces while a surprisingly strong ensemble brings personality and colour to the proceedings. Although Abigail is too long at nearly 110 minutes and begins to lose steam during the second act, it's a bloody good time, representing another horror high point for 2024.


The enigmatic Lambert (Giancarlo Esposito) devises a kidnapping scheme, entrusting Frank (Dan Stevens) to assemble a team to snatch a young ballerina named Abigail (Alisha Weir), hoping to collect a $50 million ransom. The team, who use Rat-Pack-derived aliases, also consists of Joey (Melissa Barrera), Peter (Kevin Durand), Sammy (Kathryn Newton), Dean (Angus Cloud) and Rickles (Will Catlett), all of whom remain tight-lipped about their personal histories as they carry out the job and take Abigail to Lambert's secluded mansion. Needing to guard Abigail for 24 hours while Lambert negotiates the ransom, the group hesitantly settles in for the night, with Joey accepting the task of watching over their hostage. However, all is not well inside the mansion, with one of the crew meeting a grisly end, sparking tension and mistrust. As it turns out, Abigail is a vampire who wants to feed on her kidnappers, and there is no way to escape the locked-down mansion, sparking a desperate fight for survival.

Before the horror show kicks in, the opening act relies more on intrigue and suspense, with the kidnappers carrying out their mission and travelling to the mansion, where tensions flare once the body count begins piling up. After Abigail reveals her true self, she commences her game as her trapped victims fight and strategise, unsure about which aspects of vampire mythology to believe. However, with the reveal of Abigail's vampiric nature happening relatively early, Bettinelli-Olpin and Gillett struggle to sustain the feature, with too many overwritten detours diminishing the picture's momentum. By the time the movie reaches its (not entirely satisfying) conclusion, the experience feels slightly fatiguing. One can't help but wonder if a tighter, 90-minute edit would be more successful.


Thankfully, when Abigail works, it really works, delivering the type of operatic, vicious, violent set pieces that horror fanatics crave. Bettinelli-Olpin and Gillett continue to demonstrate a flair for slick, well-staged conflicts, and they astutely alternate between dark humour (the over-the-top gore is a treat) and genuinely unnerving moments (Abigail's screeching is intimidating as hell). The directors embrace the R rating, merrily taking the bloodshed all the way up to 11, seamlessly mixing CGI and practical effects, covering the actors and the sets in buckets of blood. The aesthetic approach to Abigail is superb, with cinematographer Aaron Morton (The First Omen, 2013's Evil Dead) taking full advantage of the expansive mansion through careful framing and lighting, using shadows to augment suspense. The directors once again turn to composer Brian Tyler (Ready or Not, Scream, Scream VI) for the soundtrack, and the accompanying original score is suitably atmospheric and intense. From a technical perspective, Abigail is immaculate, carrying more visual gravitas than cheaper, B-grade horror offerings.

A small but robust selection of actors helps elevate the material, with newcomer Alisha Weir making the biggest impression as the titular Abigail. It's a challenging and multifaceted role for the young performer, but she pulls it off without a hitch, initially appearing vulnerable and scared before becoming a ruthless, demonic killing machine. She's also manipulative and conniving, making it unclear whether anybody should trust her at any point. Equally impressive is Barrera, who gives the movie some heart as the group's most level-headed and moral member. The rest of the cast enjoys scenery-chewing to a certain extent, from the late Angus Cloud as a sociopathic wheelman to the underrated Kevin Durand as a muscular but dimwitted mob enforcer. Meanwhile, Kathryn Newton has a blast playing an overenthusiastic hacker with no criminal experience, and she has an absolute ball during several scenes in the third act that cannot be spoiled. But the film's scene-stealer is the magnetic Dan Stevens, who espouses a thick Boston accent and devours the scenery with gusto, showing once again that he needs to be in more movies. (Also see Godzilla x Kong for another example of Stevens's unique brand of scene-stealing zeal.) Brilliant character actor Giancarlo Esposito also makes a great impression, embracing the opportunity to ham things up towards the end. Admittedly, the more recognisable the actor, the longer they survive in the proceedings, but this is not to undermine any of the performers, all of whom hit their marks with confidence.


Abigail's narrative is not exactly original, and the movie feels too long, but Bettinelli-Olpin and Gillett get far more right than wrong, solidifying themselves as a genre talent to watch. It's a vampire movie with genuine teeth, containing enough memorably intense images and set pieces to make it well worth checking out for horror fans.

7.1/10

Rich in verve and cinematic personality, 1998's Velvet Goldmine perfectly encapsulates the glam rock scene of the 1970s and is one of the most distinct and fresh-feeling musicals of the '90s. Although not explicitly based on true events, the screenplay by writer-director Todd Haynes (I'm Not There) draws inspiration from real-life musicians, using personality traits and biographical details to create composite fictionalised characters reminiscent of David Bowie, Iggy Pop, and Lou Reed. With a recognisable cast of rising stars who were relatively unknown at the time, Velvet Goldmine is a terrific film that also takes visual inspiration from '70s music videos and the works of Nic Roeg and Robert Altman. The infectious sense of energy seldom wanes, with terrific music and unrelenting visual invention, though it might not be for all tastes.


1984 marks the tenth anniversary of an infamous publicity stunt wherein British glam rocker Brian Slade (Jonathan Rhys Meyers) staged his assassination on stage, faking his own death. To capitalise on public interest in Slade, British journalist Arthur Stuart is assigned to write an article on the elusive entertainer, who withdrew from public life after receiving severe backlash for his death hoax. Beginning the research process, Stuart tracks down several key figures in Slade's life and career, including his first manager, Cecil (Michael Feast) and his wife, Mandy (Toni Collette), who illuminate parts of the singer's professional and personal life. Early in Slade's career, he gained a new manager in Jerry Devine (Eddie Izzard) and showed support for gay culture in the mainstream press, making his bisexuality clear. When Slade first arrived in the United States, the Brit befriended and began working with American rock star Curt Wild (Ewan McGregor), but their tenuous relationship did not last. Stuart immerses himself deeper into the case, which holds significant personal meaning to him, as he idolised Slade as a teenager, and gained confidence through the bisexual singer to come out as gay.

With a structure deliberately reminiscent of Citizen Kane, Velvet Goldmine is non-linear and largely episodic, delving into the lives and backgrounds of its various eccentric characters. Haynes refuses to dwell on a single train of thought for too long, progressing through flashbacks, quirky musical interludes, sex scenes (including an amusing moment with a sex doll) and a range of bizarre non-sequiturs across a range of locations and settings, all delivered with the utmost energy. It consistently feels fresh and exciting, the cinematic equivalent of an exquisite, feverish rock dream. Although jumpy, the narrative nevertheless remains coherent for the most part, with Arthur and his investigation anchoring the story, providing momentum and purpose. The script's verbiage is uniquely engaging and poetic, with portions of dialogue reportedly derived from the writings of Oscar Wilde, whom the movie portrays as the progenitor of glam rock. Due to the film's fast-paced energy, the more conventional dramatic scenes in the third act do stand out and feel noticeably slower, but Haynes's sturdy direction combined with the engaging performances keep the proceedings interesting until the end.


Haynes deploys visual techniques galore throughout Velvet Goldmine, from transitions to stylised credits and different shutter speeds. The style is all the more impressive given that the film was produced the old-fashioned way before computers simplified the process for digital effects. The production design is magnificent, with the movie effortlessly recreating the '70s and '80s, especially nailing the distinct sense of fashion. Understandably, music plays a large part in Velvet Goldmine, and the selected songs seemingly influenced the editorial process, with scenes edited to match each track. Haynes hits the ground running with the delightful, infectiously energetic opening credits sequence set to Brian Eno's Needle in the Camel's Eye, which perfectly sets the tone. The soundtrack also features the likes of Iggy Pop, Roxy Music, Lou Reed, T. Rex, Placebo, and (regrettably) Gary Glitter, furthering the astonishing sense of time and place and giving the movie its unique atmosphere and flavour. Despite carrying the title of a David Bowie track, and despite Brian's deliberate resemblance to the late pop star, the film does not use Bowie's music, as he did not approve of the production despite the director hoping for his blessing.

Still relatively fresh from 1996's Trainspotting but still a year away from Star Wars, McGregor gives it his all here and disappears into the role of Curt Wild, who is a combination of Iggy Pop and Lou Reed. With long hair and outlandish fashion, McGregor embodies pop star traits with utmost abandon, even doing his own singing. Bale is more of a straight man (an ironic term for this character), a relatively normal man navigating the zany world of glam rock. Meanwhile, Jonathan Rhys Meyers convincingly looks the part of an eccentric glam rock singer with a dizzying array of ridiculous outfits and makeup styles. Other performers also make a positive impression here, particularly Australian actress Toni Collette, who creates a distinct and fascinating character with Mandy.


Admittedly, Velvet Goldmine comes up short in terms of emotion, and the style outweighs the substance. But with such a striking sense of style combined with razor-sharp editing and spirited performances from a superb cast, the movie confidently holds together. Its themes about gay acceptance are subtle but relevant, giving the movie some thematic significance beyond its surface-level pleasures. Especially for viewers who can appreciate a touch of surrealism, Velvet Goldmine is a gem.

7.8/10

Alex Garland's fourth feature-film undertaking as writer and director, 2024's Civil War is his most ambitious project to date, taking inspiration from iconic war movies (particularly Apocalypse Now) to create a haunting portrait of a fractured nation. Instead of a sprawling war movie examining each side and their respective viewpoints, Civil War is about journalists caught in the thick of combat, trying to stay alive while documenting the brutal madness. With Garland tackling such controversial subject matter, especially in light of America's political unrest in recent years, it is fortunate that the script does not take a political stance or represent propaganda. Instead, it's a cautionary tale in the vein of The Day After or Threads, showing the devastating consequences of another Civil War. Once again, Garland competently explores provocative ideas with a movie that runs less than two hours, as Civil War only clocks in at 109 minutes.


At an indeterminate point in the future, America is in the throes of a Second Civil War, with a dictatorial third-term President (Nick Offerman) leading loyal federal forces against several secessionist movements. Word begins to spread that a strong secessionist group known as the "Western Forces" (comprising of Texas and California) plans to make their final push for the capital to overthrow the President, in turn ending the war. Seasoned photojournalist Lee Smith (Kirsten Dunst) and her colleague, Joel (Wagner Moura), intend to travel to Washington, D.C. to interview the President before his possible defeat. Joining the pair is aging journalist Sammy (Stephen McKinley Henderson) and an aspiring young photographer named Jessie (Cailee Spaeny), who idolises Lee and wants to make it as a frontline war photojournalist. Hitting the road, the group begins their perilous journey to the nation's capital, traversing hundreds of miles, with Jessie becoming exposed to violent conflicts that test her resolve.

Garland wisely avoids politics, eschewing any exploration behind the reasoning for America's Second Civil War to concentrate on the raw fight for survival and the realities of living in battle zones. Garland emphasises the picture's apolitical stance with the Western Forces, a movement uniting soldiers from Texas (a notoriously red state) and California (a notoriously blue state). Civil War is about war journalism, and we observe the conflicts through the eyes of Lee and her colleagues, who must remain objective while capturing the harsh realities that the public might not otherwise see. Civil War does not ask us to take sides; instead, the survival of the central four characters is our primary concern. Furthermore, Garland explores the futility of war, with some factions no longer sure who they are fighting or why. Garland explores the various possibilities of a war-town America, from neutral refugee camps to a small town where residents live in blissful ignorance, unwilling to participate in the conflict as they strive to continue life as normal. However, with the movie amounting to an episodic tour through war-torn America, Civil War does begin to lose momentum in the second act, with Garland's screenplay needing a stronger unifying narrative thread. The developing friendship between Lee and Jessie gives the movie some much-needed humanity, but the story is not necessarily about these two, and Garland can only sustain the string of fragmented conflicts for so long.


The smaller set pieces deliberately lack scope as the group travels through rural American towns, but the spectacular climax in Washington takes full advantage of the premise's potential as Garland stages a spectacular extended gun battle through the nation's capital. Although Garland has dabbled in gunplay before, Civil War is his first balls-to-the-wall action film, and the results are sensational. The violence is brutal, uncompromising and vicious, though Garland also shows tact when necessary, never dwelling on gore or making the picture feel unnecessarily exploitative. Garland even depicts several key moments using a series of still photographs through the lens of Lee or Jessie's cameras. The smaller conflicts during the first two acts burst with almost unbearable tension, especially a nerve-rattling encounter involving an unpredictable soldier (played by the always-reliable Jesse Plemons), and Garland thankfully does not lose his way during the climax. Carrying the largest budget in A24's history (approximately $50 million), the technical presentation is superb, from the slick cinematography by Rob Hardy (Garland's regular collaborator) to the sensational visual effects and the sinister original score.

Dunst is excellent here, looking tired and worn after years of experience and conflict. This is not a performance about glamour or looking pretty; instead, Dunst's Lee Smith is burnt out and emotionally detached, desensitised to the violence surrounding her, though Jessie brings out more of her humanity. Equally excellent is Moura (Elite Squad, Narcos), who is initially charismatic and confident but gradually loses his cool throughout the proceedings as things continue to occur outside of his control, taking him to breaking point. Spaeny continues her rise to prominence here, delivering a rock-solid performance as an aspiring photojournalist. Through body language and her demeanour, she convincingly transforms from a naive girl into a confident woman, with the movie's events taking their toll on her. Other recognisable performers also make their mark, from Nick Offerman as the President to an unhinged Jesse Plemons, while Stephen McKinley Henderson is a warm and authoritative presence as Sammy.


With its slick and immaculately polished visuals, it's a shame that Civil War's storytelling is so fragmented. Although it certainly comes alive during various compelling and harrowing moments, it does not feel like a full and complete story, which particularly impacts momentum during the picture's second act. Nevertheless, Garland gets more right than wrong, ensuring that Civil War is another memorable and worthwhile feather in the director's cinematic cap after the 2022 misfire of Men.

7.2/10

A spy action movie from Matthew Vaughn (Kick-Ass, Kingsman) that stars Henry Cavill has no business being as thoroughly underwhelming as 2024's Argylle. Following in the shadow of 2021's equally underwhelming The King's Man, Argylle is another overlong, plodding endeavour from the once-brilliant British filmmaker, and the movie wastes Cavill's immense talents on a thankless role. Indeed, there is an unmistakable sense of false advertising at play here, as several notable performers - Cavill (who receives top billing), John Cena, Samuel L. Jackson, Richard E. Grant, and even Dua Lipa - receive glorified cameos. Scripted by Jason Fuchs (Ice Age: Continental Drift, 2015's Pan), Argylle should be a clever, witty spy thriller in the vein of Mission: Impossible, but Vaughn misses the mark by a significant margin. Quirky and exciting highlights are present, including a few early set pieces and the presence of an adorable feline, but the experience becomes laborious and headache-inducing.


Introverted spy novelist Elly Conway (Bryce Dallas Howard) becomes an international sensation with her series of Argylle spy novels and is nearly ready to deliver her fifth book. However, she suffers from writer's block while trying to tidy up the book's ending, and she turns to her mother, Ruth (Catherine O'Hara), for assistance. Embarking on a train journey to visit her parents, Elly meets an actual spy named Aidan (Sam Rockwell), who informs her that her novels seemingly predict the future and a villainous organisation, known as the Division, is coming for her. While protecting Elly from waves of armed assassins, Aidan hopes to end the author's writer's block and inspire her to write the next chapter, hoping she will reveal how to stop the Division.

Argylle shows promise in its first 70 minutes or so, with a strong sense of intrigue and thrilling action sequences that demonstrate Vaughn's trademark stylistic flourishes, accompanied by Lorne Balfe's flavoursome original score and a selection of enjoyable songs. (Vaugn even makes heavy use of the new Beatles track, Now and Then.) But a major twist signifies the film's downward spiral at the halfway mark, and the production never recovers or finds its footing. As the screenplay begins doling out endless twists, the movie's spark rapidly dissipates, leading to a tedious and needlessly convoluted second half lacking energy and stylistic vigour. Vaughn normally satirises each genre he tackles, and perhaps satire was the intention here (similar to the heist episode of Rick and Morty), but the lack of meaty belly laughs is a problem, and the haphazard structure ruins a natural, engaging narrative flow. Worse, Vaughn dedicates much of the second act to monotonous exposition to clarify the over-complicated plot.


Although the more down-to-earth action sequences are a highlight (such as an early train fight), Vaughn seems lost when orchestrating the bigger set pieces, which appear unfinished. Stylised visuals are a big part of Vaughn's cinematic voice, with heavy digital effects giving his movies a distinct, hyperreal aesthetic. But the CGI throughout Argylle does not look appropriately stylised - instead, the digital effects just look poor and fake. The extended climactic battle sequence is a key offender, with some of the worst green-screen compositing in a major motion picture this decade. Despite a lofty $200 million budget (Vaughn's largest budget to date), the movie looks too phoney, and it is unclear where the money went. (One supposes that the actors took home handsome bonuses due to the unconventional streaming model, cancelling out the need for continuing royalties.) Normally, a visceral punch elevates Vaughn's movies, with R-rated bloodletting facilitating memorable kills and devilish ultraviolence. But Argylle is a vanilla, PG-13 affair.

Despite featuring prominently in marketing materials, Cavill and Cena do not even play a part in the actual proceedings, as they only represent characters in Elly's book. It's a tragic waste of the spirited performers, especially as Cavill's idealised Argylle character is far more interesting than Howard as Elly. Rockwell does bring comedic energy to the proceedings, showing yet again that he is one of the industry's most reliable character actors, but the material fails to adequately serve him. Especially during the second half, Rockwell has little to do. Elsewhere in the cast, seasoned professionals like Bryan Cranston, Samuel L. Jackson and Catherine O'Hara bring appropriate gravitas and make a positive impression.


Overlong and overindulgent, Argylle is a wasted opportunity, representing a rare misfire for Vaughn. It's not awful, but the sense of fun and excitement wanes long before the humdrum climax arrives, and the movie is not nearly as clever as it thinks it is.

5.6/10