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
Respectfully and commendably continues the series


An all-in-good-fun fireworks show

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
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

Another horror high point for 2024

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
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

Infectiously energetic and enjoyable

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
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

Haunting portrait of a fractured nation

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
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 wasted opportunity

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
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

Provocative and horrifying prequel

Even for the most optimistic film-goers, the notion of a prequel to 1976's The Omen seems unnecessary and laughable, a shameless cash-grab motivated by commerce instead of artistic integrity. After all, with three sequels, a remake and a short-lived television series, the Omen franchise is no stranger to superfluous milking. Against all odds, however, 2024's The First Omen successfully breathes new life into the property, with screenwriters Tim Smith, Keith Thomas, and Arkasha Stevenson (making her directorial debut) finding fertile narrative ground for this prequel. Instead of trashy and dull, The First Omen is artful and moody - it feels more like an A24 release than a mainstream horror picture. Although not on the same level as Richard Donner's chilling masterpiece, it is a worthwhile companion piece that surpasses the hit-and-miss sequels.
In 1971, American novitiate Margaret (Nell Tiger Free) arrives at Vizzardeli Orphanage in Rome to take her vows and begin her new life of religious dedication. With assistance from Cardinal Lawrence (Bill Nighy), her eccentric roommate Luz (Maria Caballero), and the Abbess, Sister Silvia (Sônia Braga), Margaret becomes orientated with her new setting. She also meets a young artist named Carlita (Nicole Sorace), who is isolated from the other children and suffers mistreatment by the nuns. Margaret is intrigued by the unusual Carlita and forms a bond with her, though Father Brennan (Ralph Ineson) soon arrives to warn the American about her newfound friend. Due to waning faith around the world, Father Brennan believes that Catholic radicals are conspiring to bring about the birth of the antichrist, in turn creating fear to drive people back to the church.
Set amid the true-to-life political unrest in Italy during the 1970s, the story of The First Omen benefits from an element of mystery and intrigue, though the revelations will only truly surprise newcomers to the franchise. The feature clocks in at a beefy 120 minutes, which is unusually long for the genre, but Stevenson mostly manages to sustain interest and engagement throughout the proceedings, especially during the vicious second half when the church's plans come into focus and the fight for survival begins. Unfortunately, the ending feels like a cop-out, betraying the otherwise pitch-black tone and seemingly setting up a potential sequel. Considering there are several sequels to The Omen that explore Damien's future, The First Omen should feel more like a self-contained one-and-done story. Thankfully, aside from the sequel tease, the story seamlessly transitions into the 1976 film and makes for an effective double feature with the much-revered classic.
With gorgeous cinematography courtesy of Aaron Morton (2013's Evil Dead), the artistry on display throughout The First Omen is genuinely impressive, with atmospheric use of shadows and intriguing framing, even making use of mirrors. The visual gravitas separates The First Omen from less skilful horror offerings (for example, the 2006 remake of The Omen), while the use of sound amplifies the creepiness and horror. There are several memorable moments here, including a haunting birth sequence and a horrifying suicide, earning the picture's R rating. The digital effects are not immaculate (computer-generated flames never look quite right), but the illusion is convincing enough, with the finale providing some potent horror imagery. Although there are a few jump scares, Stevenson mainly relies on suspenseful atmosphere and an omnipresent sense of dread, supported by the unnerving, deliberately intrusive original score by Mark Korven (The Lighthouse, The Black Phone) that is reminiscent of Jerry Goldsmith's superlative soundtrack from the original movie. Equally impressive are the performances, with young Nell Tiger Free making a fantastic impression as Margaret and nailing all the requirements for the taxing role. She effortlessly portrays fear and panic, and gamely participates in some icky body horror moments. Other seasoned actors, including Ralph Ineson, Charles Dance and Bill Nighy, contribute to the movie's feeling of legitimacy, ensuring it does not feel like another B-grade genre offering.
In addition to being a rock-solid prequel to a timeless, terrifying classic, The First Omen is a terrific horror movie in its own right, emerging as one of 2024's best, most notable genre offerings. Despite a slow first half and an underwhelming ending, The First Omen delivers where it counts, establishing Stevenson as a filmmaker with a bright future ahead of her. Provocative and unnerving, the film will undoubtedly delight horror buffs.
7.4/10
In 1971, American novitiate Margaret (Nell Tiger Free) arrives at Vizzardeli Orphanage in Rome to take her vows and begin her new life of religious dedication. With assistance from Cardinal Lawrence (Bill Nighy), her eccentric roommate Luz (Maria Caballero), and the Abbess, Sister Silvia (Sônia Braga), Margaret becomes orientated with her new setting. She also meets a young artist named Carlita (Nicole Sorace), who is isolated from the other children and suffers mistreatment by the nuns. Margaret is intrigued by the unusual Carlita and forms a bond with her, though Father Brennan (Ralph Ineson) soon arrives to warn the American about her newfound friend. Due to waning faith around the world, Father Brennan believes that Catholic radicals are conspiring to bring about the birth of the antichrist, in turn creating fear to drive people back to the church.
Set amid the true-to-life political unrest in Italy during the 1970s, the story of The First Omen benefits from an element of mystery and intrigue, though the revelations will only truly surprise newcomers to the franchise. The feature clocks in at a beefy 120 minutes, which is unusually long for the genre, but Stevenson mostly manages to sustain interest and engagement throughout the proceedings, especially during the vicious second half when the church's plans come into focus and the fight for survival begins. Unfortunately, the ending feels like a cop-out, betraying the otherwise pitch-black tone and seemingly setting up a potential sequel. Considering there are several sequels to The Omen that explore Damien's future, The First Omen should feel more like a self-contained one-and-done story. Thankfully, aside from the sequel tease, the story seamlessly transitions into the 1976 film and makes for an effective double feature with the much-revered classic.
With gorgeous cinematography courtesy of Aaron Morton (2013's Evil Dead), the artistry on display throughout The First Omen is genuinely impressive, with atmospheric use of shadows and intriguing framing, even making use of mirrors. The visual gravitas separates The First Omen from less skilful horror offerings (for example, the 2006 remake of The Omen), while the use of sound amplifies the creepiness and horror. There are several memorable moments here, including a haunting birth sequence and a horrifying suicide, earning the picture's R rating. The digital effects are not immaculate (computer-generated flames never look quite right), but the illusion is convincing enough, with the finale providing some potent horror imagery. Although there are a few jump scares, Stevenson mainly relies on suspenseful atmosphere and an omnipresent sense of dread, supported by the unnerving, deliberately intrusive original score by Mark Korven (The Lighthouse, The Black Phone) that is reminiscent of Jerry Goldsmith's superlative soundtrack from the original movie. Equally impressive are the performances, with young Nell Tiger Free making a fantastic impression as Margaret and nailing all the requirements for the taxing role. She effortlessly portrays fear and panic, and gamely participates in some icky body horror moments. Other seasoned actors, including Ralph Ineson, Charles Dance and Bill Nighy, contribute to the movie's feeling of legitimacy, ensuring it does not feel like another B-grade genre offering.
In addition to being a rock-solid prequel to a timeless, terrifying classic, The First Omen is a terrific horror movie in its own right, emerging as one of 2024's best, most notable genre offerings. Despite a slow first half and an underwhelming ending, The First Omen delivers where it counts, establishing Stevenson as a filmmaker with a bright future ahead of her. Provocative and unnerving, the film will undoubtedly delight horror buffs.
7.4/10

A visceral action-thriller let down by dull pacing

The directorial debut for Oscar-nominated British actor Dev Patel, 2024's Monkey Man is a vicious vigilante action-thriller steeped in Indian culture and religion. Although initially intended for Netflix, Jordan Peele viewed the movie and pushed for a theatrical release, believing that the movie was too good for a streaming debut. Monkey Man follows a recognisable formula for revenge movies, but it's denser than expected, as it critiques India's current sociopolitical landscape and shows support for India's transgender population. Unfortunately, the resulting movie is not exactly light on its feet, with Patel unable to sustain interest or momentum throughout the beefy two-hour running time. The visceral action highlights of Monkey Man are remarkable, but pacing is not the movie's strong suit, as it only genuinely roars to life in its final third.
Kid (Dev Patel) earns a meagre living on the illegal underground fighting circuit, going up against more skilled fighters for cash while wearing a gorilla mask. Calling himself "Bobby," Kid gains employment as a kitchen hand for Queenie (Ashwini Kalsekar), who oversees a criminal empire and provides drugs and prostitutes for wealthy VIP clients. Negotiating a promotion, Kid gains access to the VIP zone, where he sets his sights on the corrupt police chief, Rana Singh (Sikandar Kher), who was responsible for destroying Kid's village and murdering his mother. After a botched assassination attempt that nearly kills him, Kid finds support in spiritual leader Alpha (Vipin Sharma) and her group, who are sympathetic to his cause due to the tumultuous political situation in India.
Patel, who co-wrote the screenplay with Paul Angunawela and John Collee, attempts to add substance to the narrative by touching on relevant issues in India, including political corruption and the oppression of transgender people. However, it amounts to window dressing, and thankfully, Patel does not traverse into unwelcome political grandstanding. Nevertheless, turning Kid into the hero of transgender people feels incredibly contrived and unearned, especially since Kid does not have a personal connection to them. More successful is Kid's spiritual connection with the Indian deity Hanuman, while the climax occurs against the backdrop of Diwali. This type of material is rare in mainstream cinema, and it adds an artful angle to an otherwise standard-order revenge movie. Monkey Man's first act gradually builds, relying on intrigue as Kid works on planning and executing his vendetta of vengeance against Rana. But after Kid's first armed conflict, the picture quickly loses its way, leading to an extremely dull second act that never finds its groove or builds any momentum. The movie's generic structure becomes all the more apparent during the painfully slow second act, when a defeated Kid rebuilds his strength, finds spiritual enlightenment and trains in combat before returning to face Rana again. At a basic level, it's the plot of Rocky III.
When Monkey Man is locked in action mode, it delivers in spades, with superb fight choreography and spirited bloodshed, captured with impressive visual panache. The finale, in particular, is a stunner, with Kid relentlessly and efficiently working his way through scores of combatants. After a drab second act, the climactic showdown is worth the wait. Monkey Man is not another vanilla PG-13 endeavour but instead a vicious R-rated revenge film that does not hold back on the graphic violence, but Patel also shows enough tact, never dwelling on the bloodshed or making it feel gratuitous. Patel's apparent influences are vast, from Korean cinema (think A Bittersweet Life) to The Raid and the John Wick movies. (One character even references John Wick while Kid is shopping for firearms.) Patel's directorial inexperience is never apparent during the impressive action sequences, and there's even a distinct arthouse touch to several moments throughout the movie, making this more intriguing and refreshing than a more standard-order B-movie. Patel has a distinct vision for Monkey Man, making it all the more disheartening that the writing and editing fail to serve him sufficiently.
Juggling directorial duties with acting, Patel is remarkable as Kid, with the performer ably conveying fear and pain through facial expressions while confidently delivering during the chaotic action beats. Although not an obvious choice for an action hero, Patel's fighting skills are genuinely impressive. The only other recognisable performer here is Sharlto Copley (District 9), who enthusiastically plays a scumbag responsible for organising fights and manipulating match outcomes.
With more editorial discipline, Monkey Man would have been one of 2024's standout action movies, particularly since Patel supplements the revenge story with an intriguing sense of culture. As it is, the movie works in fits and starts, but the experience is fatiguing due to its prolonged two-hour running time. Nevertheless, Patel shows incredible promise as a filmmaker, and Monkey Man remains more interesting than any number of generic Hollywood misfires.
6.5/10
Kid (Dev Patel) earns a meagre living on the illegal underground fighting circuit, going up against more skilled fighters for cash while wearing a gorilla mask. Calling himself "Bobby," Kid gains employment as a kitchen hand for Queenie (Ashwini Kalsekar), who oversees a criminal empire and provides drugs and prostitutes for wealthy VIP clients. Negotiating a promotion, Kid gains access to the VIP zone, where he sets his sights on the corrupt police chief, Rana Singh (Sikandar Kher), who was responsible for destroying Kid's village and murdering his mother. After a botched assassination attempt that nearly kills him, Kid finds support in spiritual leader Alpha (Vipin Sharma) and her group, who are sympathetic to his cause due to the tumultuous political situation in India.
Patel, who co-wrote the screenplay with Paul Angunawela and John Collee, attempts to add substance to the narrative by touching on relevant issues in India, including political corruption and the oppression of transgender people. However, it amounts to window dressing, and thankfully, Patel does not traverse into unwelcome political grandstanding. Nevertheless, turning Kid into the hero of transgender people feels incredibly contrived and unearned, especially since Kid does not have a personal connection to them. More successful is Kid's spiritual connection with the Indian deity Hanuman, while the climax occurs against the backdrop of Diwali. This type of material is rare in mainstream cinema, and it adds an artful angle to an otherwise standard-order revenge movie. Monkey Man's first act gradually builds, relying on intrigue as Kid works on planning and executing his vendetta of vengeance against Rana. But after Kid's first armed conflict, the picture quickly loses its way, leading to an extremely dull second act that never finds its groove or builds any momentum. The movie's generic structure becomes all the more apparent during the painfully slow second act, when a defeated Kid rebuilds his strength, finds spiritual enlightenment and trains in combat before returning to face Rana again. At a basic level, it's the plot of Rocky III.
When Monkey Man is locked in action mode, it delivers in spades, with superb fight choreography and spirited bloodshed, captured with impressive visual panache. The finale, in particular, is a stunner, with Kid relentlessly and efficiently working his way through scores of combatants. After a drab second act, the climactic showdown is worth the wait. Monkey Man is not another vanilla PG-13 endeavour but instead a vicious R-rated revenge film that does not hold back on the graphic violence, but Patel also shows enough tact, never dwelling on the bloodshed or making it feel gratuitous. Patel's apparent influences are vast, from Korean cinema (think A Bittersweet Life) to The Raid and the John Wick movies. (One character even references John Wick while Kid is shopping for firearms.) Patel's directorial inexperience is never apparent during the impressive action sequences, and there's even a distinct arthouse touch to several moments throughout the movie, making this more intriguing and refreshing than a more standard-order B-movie. Patel has a distinct vision for Monkey Man, making it all the more disheartening that the writing and editing fail to serve him sufficiently.
Juggling directorial duties with acting, Patel is remarkable as Kid, with the performer ably conveying fear and pain through facial expressions while confidently delivering during the chaotic action beats. Although not an obvious choice for an action hero, Patel's fighting skills are genuinely impressive. The only other recognisable performer here is Sharlto Copley (District 9), who enthusiastically plays a scumbag responsible for organising fights and manipulating match outcomes.
With more editorial discipline, Monkey Man would have been one of 2024's standout action movies, particularly since Patel supplements the revenge story with an intriguing sense of culture. As it is, the movie works in fits and starts, but the experience is fatiguing due to its prolonged two-hour running time. Nevertheless, Patel shows incredible promise as a filmmaker, and Monkey Man remains more interesting than any number of generic Hollywood misfires.
6.5/10

Underrated, gripping old-school adventure yarn

A gripping, masculine submarine movie in the old-school action-adventure mould, Black Sea is a ripping film reminiscent of memorable classics like Kelly's Heroes and The Treasure of the Sierra Madre. If the picture had been produced back in the 1950s or 1960s, it might have starred Clint Eastwood or Gregory Peck. But with the movie coming out in 2014, award-winning director Kevin Macdonald (The Last King of Scotland, Touching the Void) delivers a familiar type of adventure yarn with laudable contemporary polish and a fantastic selection of memorable character actors. Plus, even though the story seems straightforward and familiar, Black Sea has a few unexpected twists and surprises up its sleeve. Especially with CGI-laden blockbusters and superhero movies filling theatres, it is refreshing to witness a flick like Black Sea, which remains criminally underrated and overlooked.
A salvage expert and veteran submarine skipper, Robinson (Jude Law) has devoted decades of his life to underwater salvage at the cost of his marriage, with his wife (Jodie Whittaker) divorcing him and taking custody of their son. Despite his dedication, Robinson is laid off from his job at Agora, leaving him financially destitute and unable to make his child support payments. In desperation, Robinson agrees to captain an independent, illegal expedition to locate a sunken Nazi U-boat from World War II that contains millions of dollars worth of gold. Although Agora wishes to salvage it, the wreck lies in disputed waters off the Georgian coast, making it difficult to mount an official expedition. With funding from a shady venture capitalist (Tobias Menzies), Robinson gathers a selection of Russian and British personnel to crew an ancient Russian submarine as they set off on the dangerous mission. However, the British and Russian factions do not trust each other, leading to heightened tensions that only intensify when Robinson declares that they will receive an equal share, meaning that fewer surviving men means a bigger cut.
There is a recognisable formula to submarine movies, as such productions often involve overcoming unexpected vessel damage and tense underwater hostilities between crew members. With a script by television writer Dennis Kelly (making his theatrical film debut), Black Sea adheres to these recognisable genre tropes, but the picture's success is in the execution. The issues encountered by the crew are not easy to predict, and the film shows no sentimentality towards the characters who could die at any time. With things seldom going to plan, there's an incredible underlying sense of tension that is sometimes hard to tolerate. There is also a sense of gravitas to the writing, with tense character interactions generating further uneasiness. Plus, with an adult rating in place, the characters can swear during tense situations, heightening the sense of realism and danger. Additionally, Kelly's script subtly touches upon class and economic struggles. Robinson and his colleagues find themselves in a desperate situation after making an honest living, with the uncaring capitalist system abandoning them despite their skills and dedication. Robinson is particularly bitter, realising his personal sacrifice and labour only led to the monetary gain of a big corporation, leaving him with nothing except a broken marriage. Retrieving the gold not only represents his key to financial freedom; it also symbolises a middle finger to the powerful people and structures that oppress the working class. Luckily, these thematic underpinnings do not overwhelm the story.
Despite a meagre budget (reportedly a mere £8 million), Macdonald's visual treatment of the material is spectacular, with convincing special effects and intricate set design working to generate the illusion of being underwater at sea with this crew. The digital effects are not immaculate, but they are good enough, ensuring that Black Sea feels like a slick theatrical movie instead of a B-grade direct-to-video production. The smooth cinematography by Christopher Ross is especially accomplished, with the careful lighting facilitating a realistic look with shadowy interiors while ensuring the events are always comprehensible. Macdonald ratchets up the tension throughout the picture, getting plenty of mileage from the cramped, sweaty submarine interiors and the hothead crew who do not trust each other and cannot get along. It's unbearably intense at times, particularly when Robinson chooses to take the vessel through a narrow underwater canyon despite slim chances of survival while those onboard wonder if they can force their captain to surface. Furthermore, although there is humour in the picture's early stages, Macdonald wisely keeps things tense and serious as the situation becomes more grave. The high stakes and omnipresent sense of danger make Black Sea a gripping watch.
Creating well-drawn, distinct characters in an ensemble movie is tricky, but it is crucial to maximise audience engagement. Luckily, Black Sea excels in its compelling characterisations thanks to strong writing and robust performances from an ideal cast. Law is the most recognisable name in the ensemble, and he trades in his regular soft-spoken charisma for something gruff, rugged and completely unglamorous. Although not an obvious choice to fill this type of role, Law hits every note with utmost confidence, convincingly portraying Robinson's descent into madness as he prioritises retrieving the gold over the safety of his men. Equally impressive is Australian actor Ben Mendelsohn (Animal Kingdom, The Place Beyond the Pines) as a mentally unstable veteran diver who has been in and out of prison. Meanwhile, Scoot McNairy (Argo, 12 Years a Slave) is a perfect pick for the snivelling representative for the expedition's investor, and Michael Smiley (The World's End) provides ample colour playing a crew member who served with Robinson in the Navy. Newcomer Bobby Schofield also warrants a mention as a teenager who joins the submarine, much to the chagrin of the Russians, who perceive his presence as a bad omen.
There is something comforting about motion pictures like Black Sea, which is not exactly a life-changing movie, but it is incredibly well-executed. Without any unwelcome pretence or political agenda, it's a compelling and often armrest-clenching adventure story that delivers thrills with utmost competence. Despite a few scripting contrivances, Black Sea is sturdy manly entertainment.
7.9/10
A salvage expert and veteran submarine skipper, Robinson (Jude Law) has devoted decades of his life to underwater salvage at the cost of his marriage, with his wife (Jodie Whittaker) divorcing him and taking custody of their son. Despite his dedication, Robinson is laid off from his job at Agora, leaving him financially destitute and unable to make his child support payments. In desperation, Robinson agrees to captain an independent, illegal expedition to locate a sunken Nazi U-boat from World War II that contains millions of dollars worth of gold. Although Agora wishes to salvage it, the wreck lies in disputed waters off the Georgian coast, making it difficult to mount an official expedition. With funding from a shady venture capitalist (Tobias Menzies), Robinson gathers a selection of Russian and British personnel to crew an ancient Russian submarine as they set off on the dangerous mission. However, the British and Russian factions do not trust each other, leading to heightened tensions that only intensify when Robinson declares that they will receive an equal share, meaning that fewer surviving men means a bigger cut.
There is a recognisable formula to submarine movies, as such productions often involve overcoming unexpected vessel damage and tense underwater hostilities between crew members. With a script by television writer Dennis Kelly (making his theatrical film debut), Black Sea adheres to these recognisable genre tropes, but the picture's success is in the execution. The issues encountered by the crew are not easy to predict, and the film shows no sentimentality towards the characters who could die at any time. With things seldom going to plan, there's an incredible underlying sense of tension that is sometimes hard to tolerate. There is also a sense of gravitas to the writing, with tense character interactions generating further uneasiness. Plus, with an adult rating in place, the characters can swear during tense situations, heightening the sense of realism and danger. Additionally, Kelly's script subtly touches upon class and economic struggles. Robinson and his colleagues find themselves in a desperate situation after making an honest living, with the uncaring capitalist system abandoning them despite their skills and dedication. Robinson is particularly bitter, realising his personal sacrifice and labour only led to the monetary gain of a big corporation, leaving him with nothing except a broken marriage. Retrieving the gold not only represents his key to financial freedom; it also symbolises a middle finger to the powerful people and structures that oppress the working class. Luckily, these thematic underpinnings do not overwhelm the story.
Despite a meagre budget (reportedly a mere £8 million), Macdonald's visual treatment of the material is spectacular, with convincing special effects and intricate set design working to generate the illusion of being underwater at sea with this crew. The digital effects are not immaculate, but they are good enough, ensuring that Black Sea feels like a slick theatrical movie instead of a B-grade direct-to-video production. The smooth cinematography by Christopher Ross is especially accomplished, with the careful lighting facilitating a realistic look with shadowy interiors while ensuring the events are always comprehensible. Macdonald ratchets up the tension throughout the picture, getting plenty of mileage from the cramped, sweaty submarine interiors and the hothead crew who do not trust each other and cannot get along. It's unbearably intense at times, particularly when Robinson chooses to take the vessel through a narrow underwater canyon despite slim chances of survival while those onboard wonder if they can force their captain to surface. Furthermore, although there is humour in the picture's early stages, Macdonald wisely keeps things tense and serious as the situation becomes more grave. The high stakes and omnipresent sense of danger make Black Sea a gripping watch.
Creating well-drawn, distinct characters in an ensemble movie is tricky, but it is crucial to maximise audience engagement. Luckily, Black Sea excels in its compelling characterisations thanks to strong writing and robust performances from an ideal cast. Law is the most recognisable name in the ensemble, and he trades in his regular soft-spoken charisma for something gruff, rugged and completely unglamorous. Although not an obvious choice to fill this type of role, Law hits every note with utmost confidence, convincingly portraying Robinson's descent into madness as he prioritises retrieving the gold over the safety of his men. Equally impressive is Australian actor Ben Mendelsohn (Animal Kingdom, The Place Beyond the Pines) as a mentally unstable veteran diver who has been in and out of prison. Meanwhile, Scoot McNairy (Argo, 12 Years a Slave) is a perfect pick for the snivelling representative for the expedition's investor, and Michael Smiley (The World's End) provides ample colour playing a crew member who served with Robinson in the Navy. Newcomer Bobby Schofield also warrants a mention as a teenager who joins the submarine, much to the chagrin of the Russians, who perceive his presence as a bad omen.
There is something comforting about motion pictures like Black Sea, which is not exactly a life-changing movie, but it is incredibly well-executed. Without any unwelcome pretence or political agenda, it's a compelling and often armrest-clenching adventure story that delivers thrills with utmost competence. Despite a few scripting contrivances, Black Sea is sturdy manly entertainment.
7.9/10

Fun, entertaining and visually outstanding

A pulpy, visually striking throwback to classic Hollywood adventure pictures, 2004's Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow is a fascinating forgotten gem that deserves reappraisal and rediscovery. Taking its cues from comic books, Indiana Jones, science fiction serials and many more, Sky Captain is an undeniable case of style over substance, but the style is so impressive and aesthetically pleasing that it hardly matters. Written and directed by first-time filmmaker Kerry Conran, the picture has an intriguing premise and appealing (though one-dimensional) characters. However, the visual stylings take priority here, resulting in an altogether unique big-screen experience that miraculously holds up two decades later but does not resonate as deeply as it should.
An intrepid reporter working in New York City, Polly Perkins (Gwyneth Paltrow) is investigating the disappearances of six renowned world scientists. While following up on clues and leads, mysterious giant robots attack Manhattan, and the authorities call upon idealistic mercenary Joe Sullivan (Jude Law), a.k.a. "Sky Captain," and his private air force, known as the Flying Legion, to fight back. With the robot attack seemingly connected to the disappearance of the scientists, Polly and Joe set out on a globe-trotting expedition in search of madman Dr. Totenkopf (Sir Laurence Olivier) to uncover his plans before it is too late. Also assisting the pair is Joe's ace mechanic friend Dex (Giovanni Ribisi), and one of Joe's former flames, a proficient Navy pilot named Commander Franky Cook (Angelina Jolie).
Conran's script evidently strives to emulate classic Hollywood screwball comedies from the '30s and '40s with the sarcastic, snarky interplay between Polly and Joe (think His Girl Friday), but the dialogue unfortunately lacks the witty spark of a Billy Wilder screenplay. This is part of the film's overall lack of humanity and substance, with the feature primarily a visual experience instead of an emotional one. Without any emotional core and with a muddled narrative in need of more storytelling momentum, Sky Captain occasionally meanders, particularly during the midsection. The movie bizarrely alternates between the sublime and the mundane, with dramatic scenes often falling flat while the set pieces come alive with vigour and exhilaration.
Storytelling problems aside, the aesthetic presentation of Sky Captain is astounding, particularly for a production from 2004. There are shades of 1990s comic-book movies like The Rocketeer and The Shadow with its retrofuturistic production design and sense of lighthearted fun, while the robots themselves evoke memories of Brad Bird's The Iron Giant. Other influences are apparent, from German Expressionism to 1933's King Kong, and many more. Nevertheless, Sky Captain takes on a distinctive visual identity of its own and remains incredibly unique two decades later. The result of meticulous planning, intensive storyboards, 3D animatics, and even shooting the entire picture with stand-ins before principal photography, it is easy to be amazed by the breathtaking cinematic artistry on display. Admittedly, the blue-screen work is less than perfect, with some shots looking worse than others, and the digital effects are not photorealistic. However, the imperfections contribute to the movie's immense charm and are part of the intended aesthetic style, with the visuals looking stylised and hyper-realistic. Indeed, Conran did not intend for the feature to resemble reality. The array of locations, from New York City to Nepal and Tibet, ensure sufficient variety to maintain visual interest, with Conran consistently taking us to new and exciting places. One particularly rousing battle even takes place underwater with amphibious crafts and robots. Conran's handling of the action sequences is superb, while Sabrina Plisco's astute editing keeps the set pieces taut and stimulating. Thankfully, it is always easy to follow what is happening.
The cinematography by Eric Adkins takes its cues from classic movies (including Hollywood and German Expressionistic cinema), imbuing the picture with a distinctive sepia-toned colour palette, theatrical lighting, gorgeous framing and soft focus. One of the earliest features to be shot digitally, Sky Captain also exhibits a fine layer of film grain, making it even more unique in the realm of movies with a heavy reliance on digital effects. (Movies like Attack of the Clones, Revenge of the Sith and Sin City did not bother with film grain overlays.) Composer Edward Shearmur is likewise in sync with the material and its array of influences, creating a heroic, stirring and flavoursome original score reminiscent of classic adventure pictures. There are further audio homages, too, with the robot heat rays using the same sound effects as the Martian machines from 1953's The War of the Worlds. Meanwhile, the actors understand the assignment, with broad, scenery-chewing villainy and charismatic heroes, while Paltrow does exceptionally well as the peppy, determined reporter. Jolie, who could only work on the picture for three days, is fantastic as the sharp-tongued Navy commander, making the most of her limited screen time. Sir Laurence Olivier, who died in 1989, also appears from beyond the grave with a digital performance as Dr. Totenkopf. The filmmakers manipulated footage of a young Olivier to achieve this, and the effect is surprisingly convincing.
The singularity of Conran's vision is vital to the success of Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, with the film's producer, Jon Avnet, openly acknowledging that this vision would not have survived the studio process. Despite its scripting and storytelling imperfections, Conran's immense talents as a visual craftsman are enormously apparent, with the picture not displaying any evidence of his directorial inexperience. The movie's abject failure at the box office remains an enormous injustice, especially since it was produced outside of the Hollywood system and was a labour of love for Conran, who pursued the project out of passion instead of commerce. With Hollywood blockbusters becoming more soulless and generic over time, watching a movie like Sky Captain is pleasantly enjoyable, as it's a fun and entertaining reminder of a bygone filmmaking era.
7.1/10
An intrepid reporter working in New York City, Polly Perkins (Gwyneth Paltrow) is investigating the disappearances of six renowned world scientists. While following up on clues and leads, mysterious giant robots attack Manhattan, and the authorities call upon idealistic mercenary Joe Sullivan (Jude Law), a.k.a. "Sky Captain," and his private air force, known as the Flying Legion, to fight back. With the robot attack seemingly connected to the disappearance of the scientists, Polly and Joe set out on a globe-trotting expedition in search of madman Dr. Totenkopf (Sir Laurence Olivier) to uncover his plans before it is too late. Also assisting the pair is Joe's ace mechanic friend Dex (Giovanni Ribisi), and one of Joe's former flames, a proficient Navy pilot named Commander Franky Cook (Angelina Jolie).
Conran's script evidently strives to emulate classic Hollywood screwball comedies from the '30s and '40s with the sarcastic, snarky interplay between Polly and Joe (think His Girl Friday), but the dialogue unfortunately lacks the witty spark of a Billy Wilder screenplay. This is part of the film's overall lack of humanity and substance, with the feature primarily a visual experience instead of an emotional one. Without any emotional core and with a muddled narrative in need of more storytelling momentum, Sky Captain occasionally meanders, particularly during the midsection. The movie bizarrely alternates between the sublime and the mundane, with dramatic scenes often falling flat while the set pieces come alive with vigour and exhilaration.
Storytelling problems aside, the aesthetic presentation of Sky Captain is astounding, particularly for a production from 2004. There are shades of 1990s comic-book movies like The Rocketeer and The Shadow with its retrofuturistic production design and sense of lighthearted fun, while the robots themselves evoke memories of Brad Bird's The Iron Giant. Other influences are apparent, from German Expressionism to 1933's King Kong, and many more. Nevertheless, Sky Captain takes on a distinctive visual identity of its own and remains incredibly unique two decades later. The result of meticulous planning, intensive storyboards, 3D animatics, and even shooting the entire picture with stand-ins before principal photography, it is easy to be amazed by the breathtaking cinematic artistry on display. Admittedly, the blue-screen work is less than perfect, with some shots looking worse than others, and the digital effects are not photorealistic. However, the imperfections contribute to the movie's immense charm and are part of the intended aesthetic style, with the visuals looking stylised and hyper-realistic. Indeed, Conran did not intend for the feature to resemble reality. The array of locations, from New York City to Nepal and Tibet, ensure sufficient variety to maintain visual interest, with Conran consistently taking us to new and exciting places. One particularly rousing battle even takes place underwater with amphibious crafts and robots. Conran's handling of the action sequences is superb, while Sabrina Plisco's astute editing keeps the set pieces taut and stimulating. Thankfully, it is always easy to follow what is happening.
The cinematography by Eric Adkins takes its cues from classic movies (including Hollywood and German Expressionistic cinema), imbuing the picture with a distinctive sepia-toned colour palette, theatrical lighting, gorgeous framing and soft focus. One of the earliest features to be shot digitally, Sky Captain also exhibits a fine layer of film grain, making it even more unique in the realm of movies with a heavy reliance on digital effects. (Movies like Attack of the Clones, Revenge of the Sith and Sin City did not bother with film grain overlays.) Composer Edward Shearmur is likewise in sync with the material and its array of influences, creating a heroic, stirring and flavoursome original score reminiscent of classic adventure pictures. There are further audio homages, too, with the robot heat rays using the same sound effects as the Martian machines from 1953's The War of the Worlds. Meanwhile, the actors understand the assignment, with broad, scenery-chewing villainy and charismatic heroes, while Paltrow does exceptionally well as the peppy, determined reporter. Jolie, who could only work on the picture for three days, is fantastic as the sharp-tongued Navy commander, making the most of her limited screen time. Sir Laurence Olivier, who died in 1989, also appears from beyond the grave with a digital performance as Dr. Totenkopf. The filmmakers manipulated footage of a young Olivier to achieve this, and the effect is surprisingly convincing.
The singularity of Conran's vision is vital to the success of Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, with the film's producer, Jon Avnet, openly acknowledging that this vision would not have survived the studio process. Despite its scripting and storytelling imperfections, Conran's immense talents as a visual craftsman are enormously apparent, with the picture not displaying any evidence of his directorial inexperience. The movie's abject failure at the box office remains an enormous injustice, especially since it was produced outside of the Hollywood system and was a labour of love for Conran, who pursued the project out of passion instead of commerce. With Hollywood blockbusters becoming more soulless and generic over time, watching a movie like Sky Captain is pleasantly enjoyable, as it's a fun and entertaining reminder of a bygone filmmaking era.
7.1/10
