Author name: Pronob Kumar

30.12.23 Just like the titular kaiju, Godzilla Minus One came out of nowhere in 2023, and it does three things exceedingly well. Firstly, it evokes the original spirit of the 1954 classic with the king of the monsters acting as a metaphor for nuclear war in post-imperial Japan. Secondly, it is both culturally respectful of Japanese norms and customs whilst also appealing to Western audiences and beyond. Thirdly, and most impressively, it’s a fantastic blockbuster with an incredibly threatening aberration taking nearly all of the limelight. The film features a reluctant, dishonourable hero lead along with a modern, against-tradition love story that adds ample human heart. The beautiful acting from the young Sae Nagatani in a prominent role tugs at the heartstrings. This is the best on-screen Godzilla ever I would say, and I loved it because it does something never seen in a movie like this before – we see the creature evolve like Charmander becoming Charizard in Pokemon. It’s exciting and activates the childhood nostalgia in me from other adored Japanese shows and films. However, there is a cynical and predictable final shot which alludes to inevitable sequels, which slightly took off the shine for me as part of me hopes this is just a stand-alone film unlike other Godzilla films and huge monster franchises. Why is that? Well because it’s the rare kaiju movie that delves so profoundly into the inner turmoil and driving motivations of the human characters, desperately fleeing for their lives from the earth-shattering ginormous A-hole rampaging through Japan. It inspires awe with its modern take whilst simultaneously making me yearn to revisit the groundbreaking 1954 original that started it all.

24.11.23 Bring on the bloat. Fast X is simultaneously one of the most heavy-knuckled but pointlessly lightweight films I’ve seen in years. It mindlessly sets up set piece after set piece, just to smash them all into fodder, and inexcusably tries to enlist every character possible, even one we thought had died (again). Its primary purpose is not to entertain, but instead build to the inevitably disappointing sequel and closing outing of the entire film series. Even more frustrating are the film’s villains. The exact moment we meet Aimes and Dante on screen, it’s so glaringly obvious they will serve as this film’s generic, cardboard cutout villains. As Dante, Jason Momoa is a homo-erotic, embarrassing imitation of Heath Ledger’s Joker; an evil baddie who just does dumb shit for no reason apart from the cause of chaos. Additionally, the number of times the filmmakers conveniently ‘flip’ old villains into allies has become the most unrealistic and lazy plot contrivance in cinematic history. I’m also bored with the distracting shoehorning of John Cena and Brie Larson into token roles that add little value or purpose other than stale star power. At least we get half a good street race, a satisfactory diverting showpiece in Rome and some mildly impressive scenes with Jason Statham’s Deckard. But as a long-time fan who admired the focused, street racing thrills of the original and got back on board for the global adventures starting with Fast Five, I’m afraid Fast X finally seals this franchise’s coffin shut for me. Saving this waning series would require major changes, but Fast XI will likely just deliver more of the same overblown action devoid of any substance. What began as a guilty pleasure has now become a pointless exercise in franchise fatigue.

4.2.24 Falcon Lake poetically illustrates just how utterly terrifying first love can be. In Charlotte Le Bon’s haunting directorial debut, we see death, desire and underage drunkenness collide in the beautiful but sinister surroundings of the lake, a ghost story and rites of passage tale both eerily rolled into one.  The film allows an intimate, fly-on-the-wall observation of Bastien (Joseph Engel) growing besotted with the mysterious Chloe (Sara Montpetit), an older girl with an almost big-sister resonance alongside a muted sexuality  As the teens venture deeper into the outdoors together, an ominous feeling sets in as their connection grows deeper. Le Bon perfectly captures the exhilaration and danger of young summer love; with Chloé giving Bastien a taste of adulthood’s pleasures and Bastien allowing her the freedom to be a kid once again. In by far the film’s best scene, we see Bastien pulled along to a party, where he gets drunk and throws down some impressive dance moves, much to the awe of the crowd. As we see him coming alive and growing in stature, it quickly and sadly dissipates when he sees something across the group that makes him lose his confidence so quickly. I empathised so much with him in this crucial, telling moment. It’s just fantastic for so many reasons but mainly for capturing that spirit of youth that we all long for again as we get older. Like many great coming-of-age stories, Falcon Lake finds meaning in the blurred areas between the young lovers’ forbidden bond. It’s never lost on them that one is lusting and one is just passing time, which adds a layer of truthful sadness to the whole.  Le Bon has crafted a gorgeous, naturalistic teen romance spiked with mystique, thanks to its unsettling location and quivering cinematography; a debut to be truly proud of. The heartbreak of summer love might be an old song, but here it is sung in a darkly beautiful new key.

3.2.24 Fair Play is a surprisingly prickly ‘corporate thriller’, a subgenre of film that appears to be increasingly popular each year. Through the observation of an increasingly toxic relationship, the romance of the two leads (Phoebe Dynevor’s Emily and Alden Ehrenreich’s Luke) begins to curdle as her star rises at the corporate office where they both work, in spite of his falling. What begins as a subtle power imbalance between the couple mutates into impotence, attempted dominance and total disharmony.  A clash of career ambitions and gendered interlacings becomes more and more unbearable for them with each scene. While the metaphor connecting these ambitions is sometimes heavy-handed at times, it aptly depicts how weakness and insecurity manifest as domestic control. The script provides incisive commentary on male privilege, workplace competition and an exploration of the feminist concept of the ‘glass ceiling’, all of which I think are considered intelligently. However, the repetitive settings and melodramatic dialogue limit the film’s cinematic potential. The tense plot builds steadily but lacks surprises and nuance, thus Fair Play succeeds greatly as a sociological study and slightly less so as a narrative drama.  Other personal highlights involve the role of Eddie Marsan as the sneering company boss Campbell. He promotes Emily’s talents through gritted teeth while indulging Luke’s entitled complaints. His characterisation captures the dynamics that allow toxicity to fester in competitive environments, as do many of the other predominantly male cast members in the stylish office setting.  For those interested in the psychology behind abusive and manipulative relationships, Fair Play provides plenty of insights. While not of the standard of other corporate thrillers such as Margin Call or The Big Short, it joins that collection of films peering behind the curtain of elite financial organisations, whilst also exposing male characters as problematic rather than celebrating them as antiheroes.

28.4.23 EO is full of heartwarming exchanges and visually striking moments, but it doesn’t add up to much beyond a quirky, novelty tale.  Our hero of the story, EO the donkey, experiences the ups and downs of life encountering human cruelty and kindness along the way. Cinematographer Michal Dymek captures some beautifully framed shots, often focusing on EO’s soulful eyes. There are dreamlike sequences and surreal festive Christian imagery that create memorable scenes, however, the minimal dialogue and stark symbolism make the film feel a bit pretentious at times.  Animal lovers may connect to seeing life from the perspective of an innocent creature, without the capacity for prejudice. For me though, this doesn’t compete at all with some of the better international features at the Oscars earlier in 2023, as I think Colm Bairéad’s The Quiet Girl was the best film there by a mile, and other standout films such as Decision to Leave and Return to Seoul were not even on the final nominations list. In the end, EO is a moderately enjoyable arthouse film carried by strong cinematography and a charming, unorthodox lead. But, the simplistic storytelling needed to be more compelling to maintain my interest throughout. EO tries to say something meaningful about animal rights and human nature, but only partially succeeds. Still, there’s enough charm and imagination here for this tale to appeal to the right crowd. Maybe it will find some joy with audiences in the Christmas season…Little Donkey anyone?

2.3.23 Creed III totally delivers as a big-ticket franchise sequel, and then some. It has style, emotional heft and a leaner script than Creed II. Although it may lack the intelligence and pathos of the first film, it makes up for with the addition of Jonathan Majors, and his starring role as the film’s scheming antagonist. Although Ryan Coogler’s fingers are felt all over the script, this time it’s down to Michael B Jordan to both lead the film as the titular character and to direct it. He frankly does a brilliant job, adding a fresh sense of millionaire stardom and a tight family dynamic to the overall tone. There may be fewer fights here than in previous films, but when they come, Jordan’s persona and physicality in them is exhilarating, besting his performance from Black Panther (which honestly, is a very similar film to this). But as good as he is in it, Majors nearly runs away with the film. In Dame Anderson, we see a character that is both mysterious and at the same time, understandable. I’ve always enjoyed movie villains who appear nice at first, and slowly become more devious as the film progresses. When you add to that Dame’s charisma and his ‘nothing to lose’ attitude, he’s a sheer force. It’s one of the best ‘baddie’ roles of recent times I can think of (although I did like Idris Elba in The Harder They Fall, also starring Majors). The plot does feel familiar at times, with some of the family moments being played very straight and resolved too quickly, but the duality and manifested conflict between Adonis and Dame is what the film is all about. No sentimentality, product placement or sports drama trappings could make me lose my focus over that. I haven’t enjoyed many offerings of 2023 so far, but Creed III was the welcome gut punch that I was after.

26.8.23 I love Antony Starr as ‘evil asshole Superman’ in the disgustingly dark show The Boys, so when I saw him appear in the trailer for Cobweb, I just had to check it out. Sadly, the film doesn’t stand out in a crowded field of suburban horrors. Director Samuel Bodin just about delivers a competent and creepy tale that rises above mere knock-off status, even though the script feels like a lightweight composite of frightening but conventional conceits. The young protagonist, Peter, is played skillfully by Woody Norman (from C’mon C’mon), even though his struggles feel so familiar. The generic school bullies have obvious cause, but the vivid nightmares and eerie noises from inside his bedroom wall may not just be products of his overactive imagination. His parents dismiss concerns (played by Starr and Lizzy Caplan), but Peter’s teacher suspects threat from within the family. The script could have dug deeper into the dynamics of this family in crisis, as Starr and Kaplan simplistically play roles reflecting fairytale caricatures, walking a tightrope between benign and sinister as Peter’s parents. In minor praise, I felt that Cleopatra Coleman as the teacher brings some warmth and capacity to an underwritten role. Once the true villain emerges, the film descends into visceral chaos with a few intensely gory confrontations. While the ending feels rushed and a last-minute twist lands clumsily, the journey up to that point provides tautly chilling yet superficial entertainment. Overall, it’s a story without much logic, intriguing backstory or strength under scrutiny, but I suppose that’s to be expected from writer Chris Devlin, who also wrote last year’s awful Texas Chainsaw Massacre reboot. Cobweb reinvents nothing new and feels too safe to be anything but mildly satisfying. Last year’s premier home-based horror was Barbarian, and sadly this is miles away from it in terms of invention or scares. As well as having a tedious title that has almost no relevance to the narrative, it’s unfortunate that Cobweb ends with such a weak ‘non-ending’, which annoyingly teases a sequel whilst at the same time leaving audiences indifferent to seeing it.