The Critic

In cinemas now

The prospect of watching the great Sir Ian McKellen play a snide theatre critic is sufficient reason to at least be intrigued by Anand Tucker’s The Critic, especially given that the film is set in 1930s England, a time when homosexuality was deemed illegal. Given that McKellen, like his character, has long been an openly gay man, the foundations of a deeply personal and affecting film are there for all to see.

Unfortunately, The Critic is no such thing. While McKellen is typically first-rate, Patrick Marber’s adaptation of Anthony Quinn’s source material Curtain Call is, tonally speaking, far too uneven for the film to ever be truly resonant. This is best exemplified by the lead character’s own bizarre narrative arc, which sees him first elicit sympathy (due to his discrimination at the hands of the British authorities) before then becoming a brazen blackmailer and, most ridiculously of all, unrepentant murderer. 

If that sounds like a lot to cram into a circa 100-minute picture, it doesn’t even account for the stories of The Critic’s supporting cast which, with the exception of Gemma Arterton and Alfred Enoch’s characters, are mostly either hurried or completely forgotten about. Consequently, it’s no surprise to learn that the picture was beset with production issues, which at least accounts for the pervading notion that you are watching something that has been salvaged from the cutting-room floor.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice

In cinemas now

It’s easy to be dismissive of Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, given that it is being released 26 years after its predecessor first introduced Michael Keaton’s boorish poltergeist. On face value, the film feels like no more than yet another instance of Hollywood reanimating the corpse of a dormant franchise in the hope that it will deliver a box-office smash. The interesting thing about Tim Burton’s sequel is that it proves those initial suspicions to be true while also being a serviceable follow-up to the original.

At no point during Beetlejuice Beetlejuice does it feel as if you are engaging with a story that has a purpose beyond rebooting a series which is zany enough to resonate with young and old audience members alike. Nonetheless, the performances of the returning Keaton, Winona Ryder, and Catherine O’Hara, coupled with the introduction of several memorable new cast members, mean this is about as much fun as a cash grab gets. 

The riotous Justin Theroux aside, it is Jenna Ortega who shines brightest among the debuting cast, with her involvement coinciding with the fact that the film’s screenplay is written by her and Burton’s Wednesday collaborators Alfred Gough and Miles Millar. Evidently, this gothic quartet is breathing new life into the career of a visionary director whose best days many had feared were behind him, with the use of his distinctive practical effects here reminding people of what made his early work so riveting.

While Beetlejuice Beetlejuice feels like more of a retread than a redefinition of what came before it, the outstanding box office returns it has so far enjoyed ($147m grossed from a $100m budget) shows that there is plenty of appetite for this sort of shtick, which means that we’re likely to see Keaton donning those iconic pinstripes again before long.

Kinds of Kindness

Available on Disney+

By now, Yorgos Lanthimos’ reputation as one of contemporary cinema’s foremost visionaries precedes him, and rightfully so. His delightfully provocative Poor Things remains my favourite film of the year, it being an ample reminder that both comedy and surrealism can be mediums for dissecting complex and polarising topics. Consequently, it’s disappointing to find that Lanthimos’ latest, Kinds of Kindness, does nothing of the sort.

This most unusual of triptychs sees a stellar ensemble cast perform a series of disconnected tales that allude to themes of degradation and servitude without ever being self-aware enough to say anything meaningful about them. For example, its second is centred on the sudden return of a man’s missing wife and the gradual deterioration of their relationship, but never explains the reasons for either her disappearance or their eventual uncoupling.

Additionally, each fable (in particular the second and third) feature scenes that are so needlessly repulsive that they cause you to suspect that their only intention is to shock and antagonise viewers. Acts of self-harm and sexual abuse can be necessary accompaniments to challenging and thematic pieces of work, but when they are included for little more than shock value, it feels tasteless.

While many of the hallmarks of a typical Lanthimos film - striking aesthetics, first-rate performances, and acerbic wit - are on display, Kinds of Kindness feels like a pale, experimentalist accompaniment to the director’s best work that is just about made worthwhile by the typically eminent performances of Emma Stone and Jesse Plemons. Though this is scarcely more than a blemish on an otherwise spotless directorial career, it does demonstrate the pitfalls of forsaking meaning for uninhibited absurdism.

Blink Twice

In cinemas now

Observing an actor's transition into directing is always intriguing, and Zoe Kravitz’s debut feature, Blink Twice, is no exception. Co-written with E.T. Feigenbaum, the film narrates the unlikely journey of two disillusioned cocktail waitresses (Naomi Ackie and Alia Shawkat) to the private island of a disgraced tech mogul (Channing Tatum) who bears more than a passing resemblance to the insufferable Elon Musk.

What ensues is a deft thriller that offers a timely, if somewhat conventional, critique of patriarchal society and its adverse effects on female autonomy. While Kravitz’s handling of this emotive subject might not offer much solace to everyone, especially given its preference for a gratifying yet improbable revenge fantasy ending, it is hard to deny that Blink Twice is a well-executed production. The film is filled with surprising twists and remains visually stunning throughout, largely due to Kravitz’s promising direction and Adam Newport-Berra’s polished cinematography.

With standout performances from Ackie and Tatum, the film offers an engaging experience that may not hit every emotional note it aims for, but certainly provides an enjoyable ride while trying to do so.

Young Woman and the Sea

Available on Disney+

With the Olympics recently ending and the Paralympics starting soon, Disney’s release of this Gertrude Ederle biopic is well-timed. Ederle, the first woman to swim across the English Channel, is one of the most influential female athletes of all time and her inspiring life story deserves widespread recognition.

Unfortunately, Joachim Rønning’s Young Woman and the Sea is a bland recounting of Ederle’s heroics that is burdened by underdeveloped feminist themes and a frustratingly foreseeable screenplay.

This is unfortunate as Daisy Ridley’s lead performance as Ederle is solid, as is the work of a supporting cast that includes two British small-screen legends in Christopher Eccleston and Stephen Graham. Sadly, even when actors as talented as these are working with material as saturated as Jeff Nathanson’s screenplay then the end result is always likely to be underwhelming.

There is not even a smidgen of tension during the film’s indulgent runtime, with both Rønning and Nathanson adopting the straightjacketed approach to storytelling that is so often associated with this type of Disney picture. At no point do we seriously believe Ederle will do anything other than accomplish her goal, which flies in the face of the adversity she would have actually endured as a woman attempting to succeed in a male-dominated sport.

Subsequently, one can only wonder what sort of film Young Woman and the Sea might have been if entrusted to a female director and/or writer, given that they would presumably be far better placed to understand and interpret the hardships Ederle and other women like her are made to endure.

Kneecap

In cinemas now

I first came across Kneecap, the Belfast-based hip-hop trio, when my ‘Discover Weekly’ Spotify playlist served up their infectious track H.O.O.D and was immediately enamoured by their distinctive DIY sound, which sees them rap in both the English and Irish language. This stellar biopic sees the band tell their own audacious origin story, with all three members performing as themselves and pulling no punches when explaining the motives behind their music.

While first-time director Rich Peppiatt imbues his feature debut with a comedic air, Kneecap is as much about cultural preservation and the importance of language as it is getting loaded. In that sense, it is arguably one of the most remarkable films of 2024, one that is every bit as educational as it is entertaining and will certainly contribute to the group’s already meteoric rise. 

While Kneecap have the look of empty-headed scallies, the content of their music and this biopic prove them to be admirable, socially conscious patriots that are unafraid to use contemporary mediums to support age-old causes. With that in mind, one might paradoxically view them as advocates for cultural preservation and evolution, a distinction that ensures they stand apart from many of today’s other emerging acts.    

Additionally, with talents such as Michael Fassbender and Simone Kirby on supporting duties, Kneecap is the latest contribution to the rich (and often underappreciated) tapestry that is Irish cinema which, when done well, always leaves audiences with a deeper understanding of the country’s complex history and traditions.

Alien: Romulus

In cinemas now

Disney’s acquisition of Fox appears to have sounded the death knell for Ridley Scott’s plans to expand the Alien universe, as Fede Álvarez’s Alien: Romulus is an unashamedly retrograde affair that attempts to satiate the bloodthirsty desires of long-term fans of the franchise.

As one of few people who actually enjoyed Prometheus and Alien: Covenant, I found myself a little uninspired by that creative direction, although the relatively mediocre box-office returns of those films make it a no-brainer from a business perspective. In fairness, Alvarez and co-writer Rodo Sayagues do ensure there is plenty of narrative continuity between Alien: Romulus and many of its predecessors, even going as far to use AI and CGI to tastelessly resurrect the late Ian Holm to play a variation of his iconic character from the original Alien. 

The issue with Alien: Romulus is that its propensity for such misguided fan servicing makes it a rather hollow and unoriginal experience, one that foregoes world-building in favour of lazily playing the hits of other, more superior films. This is unfortunate as you can see from the film’s undeniably claustrophobic atmosphere that Alvarez definitely understands the franchise and what makes it special, as do co-stars Cailee Spaeny and David Jonsson, who do their best to imbue life into their listless characters. 

Alas, Alien: Romulus never shakes off the notion that it is nothing more than a lame tribute act before veering wildly off course in its final act, which introduces a laughable, Slender Man-esque variation of the Xenomorph that ranks as one of the least frightening things I have ever seen in a horror film.

The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare

Available on Amazon Prime

Guy Ritchie’s gradual transition from blockbuster director to a quasi-gun for hire for streaming giants has been an intriguing evolution to behold, yielding results that are both surprisingly solid (The Covenant) and the exact opposite (Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre). His latest, The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare, is something of a paradox, bombing at the box office while also garnering generally positive reviews. 

The screenplay, which was co-written by Ritchie, provides a wildly fictionalised take on Operation Postmaster, a British special operation conducted during WWII that was scarcely known until recently. Although mostly nonsensical, it is delivered cheekily by a pleasingly eclectic cast that is helmed by Henry Cavill, whose performance as Major Gus March-Phillips could easily be misinterpreted as an audition to be the next James Bond. While not the most versatile of performers, Cavill has that rare blend of good looks, roguish charm, and an almost implausible amount of muscles that make for a good 007, and Ritchie seemingly knows this, rightly centering much of this caper on his leading man.

That being said, Cavill is at times upstaged by Babs Olusanmokun and, in particular, Eiza González, whose performances as fellow special operatives contribute to much of The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare’s most entertaining moments. Of course, none of this is enough to dispel the usual shortcomings of a Ritchie movie - namely an overindulgence in senseless violence, one-dimensional antagonists, and intermittently flagrant misogyny - but this is fun enough to rank as one of the director’s better efforts, even if it does quickly fade from one’s memory.

The Instigators

Available on Apple TV+

At some point in time, every streaming platform has been guilty of churning out a star-studded film that is about as generic as processed cheese, and Doug Liman’s The Instigators is the latest offence on Apple’s part. This is a shame because the film, which was written by its co-star Casey Affleck and Chuck Maclean, has all the ingredients of a solid heist comedy. It reunites Affleck and Matt Damon with their Boston roots, sees the latter team up with his The Bourne Identity director, and has a stellar supporting cast to boot. 

Alas, The Instigators never really feels like anything other than an easy payday for all involved and an attempt to reboot the career of Affleck, which has flatlined since his Academy Award winning role in Manchester By the Sea. If the latter part of that suspected modus operandi is true, then it’s unlikely to reap the desired rewards, as Affleck’s performance is as forgettable as the film itself, never managing to get out of second gear and barely concealing the whiff of general disinterest that permeates almost every scene. 

Given that the general theme of direct-to-streaming releases seems to be ‘you win some, you lose some’, none of this is all that surprising, although it would be nice if corporations like Apple put more of their efforts into financing films such as the excellent Fancy Dance, which they released earlier this year and is certainly deserving of more promotion than this uninspired slog.

Trap

In cinemas now

There are few directors whose films oscillate in quality quite as wildly as those of M. Night Shyamalan, which means that audiences can at least approach his latest release with an emotion bordering on curiosity.

Trap, inspired in part by a real-life sting operation, is centred on the FBI’s attempts to apprehend an elusive serial killer (Josh Hartnett) while he attends a pop concert with his teenage daughter (Ariel Donoghue). Sadly, the film’s loose-lipped marketing material means that viewers already know Hartnett is playing its antagonist, which means that an otherwise clever premise goes to waste, along with the possibility of another classic Shyamalan twist.

Instead, what we get from Trap is a thriller that is completely devoid of thrills, one that is weighed down by a nonsensical plot that feels like it was hastily written down on the back of a cigarette packet. Another problematic feature of the picture is that, despite his best efforts, the only thing frightening about Hartnett’s slayer is his cringeworthy attempts to bond with his equally lame child.

This is a shame as the way Shyamalan recreates the look and feel of a stadium show is mostly impressive, aside from the puzzling behaviour of its attendees, who spend most of the show perusing the concession stands. One of the reasons that the latter aspect of Trap works well is because of the committed performance delivered by Shyamalan’s daughter Saleka, who makes for a convincing pop star. While accusations of nepotism could be levelled at her casting, you can’t really argue with the end product, which sees her perform a set of catchy tunes and more than hold her own during the film’s otherwise leaden final act.

Indeed, you could argue that the soundtrack is the only thing good to come out of this dud, which surely ranks as one of the director’s worst-ever efforts.

The First Omen

Available on Disney+

Given that it shares a premise with, and was released around the same time of, the mediocre Immaculate, it’s easy to approach Arkasha Stevenson’s prequel to The Omen with caution. However, despite the ‘scary nun’ subgenre of horror being more than a little well worn, The First Omen proves to be a far more efficient affair than one would expect it to be.

The film, set in the Rome of the early 1970s, follows Nell Tiger Free’s novitiate and her gradual unearthing of a perverse Catholic conspiracy to birth the Antichrist. While the reasons for said plot eventually prove to be more than a little nonsensical, it provides a solid enough basis from which Stevenson can conjure a frequently frightening feature debut. To that end, proceedings are helped in no small part by Free’s committed lead performance and Mark Korven’s eerie score.   

Nonetheless, The First Omen is somewhat inhibited by its franchise status, which no doubt contributes to a final act that is almost laughably nonsensical and completely out of keeping with the events which precede it. While the majority of the film is an intriguing body horror that works effectively as a commentary on church and state’s attempts to curb women’s rights, its crescendo is the sort of OTT fare that we’ve come to expect from mainstream horror.

Thankfully, this isn’t to the detriment of The First Omen as a whole, which at the very least distinguishes Free as a compelling lead and Stevenson as an artful filmmaker worth keeping an eye out for.

Deadpool & Wolverine

In cinemas now

The marketing for the latest entry in the MCU promised big things. Time travel, multiverse-hopping, the return of Hugh Jackman’s Logan in a comic-accurate costume and, most importantly, lots of cameos. Unfortunately, whilst I have always loved the Marvel franchise, I have grown disillusioned with its cameo craze and the rampant fan servicing that has swept the superhero genre as a whole, both of which are criticisms you can level at Deadpool & Wolverine. 

Frustratingly, there are glimmers of greatness lurking beneath the surface of this film. I really enjoyed the majority of its first act, especially the opening action sequence, which is absolutely incredible. Shawn Levy, for all his faults, has shown that he can direct some truly awesome fights when they’re not ludicrously CG-heavy. The jokes for the first 15-20 minutes mostly hit the mark, too. I particularly enjoyed Reynold’s delivery when remarking about a certain adamantium-clad corpse. I also found the set-up for Wade Wilson’s journey to be a mostly solid foundation for what could’ve been a very compelling arc. I must also point out that the needle-drops throughout the film are very fun as well. 

However, that’s about all the enjoyment I could find in this feature. Once our two leads get dumped into the Mad Max homage that is The Void, the film starts to get incredibly grating. The cameo appearances (which I won’t spoil) are almost laughable. Not only do the characters that appear have very little relevance or anything of note to do, the areas of Marvel films they decide to pull from ranges from slightly questionable to ridiculously baffling. I’m sad to say that it completely took me out of the film and made me so much more aware of the fact that I was watching a corporate cash grab. 

Ultimately, I think the best way to describe Deadpool & Wolverine is lazy. Whilst there’s some humour to be enjoyed, the majority of it is visually unappealing, completely lacking in imagination and, at times, pretty annoying. It is a very frightening indication of where we are headed with this once-beloved genre and suggests that Marvel Studios are as creatively bankrupt as feared.

The End We Start From

Available on Netflix

One of the greatest sources of paranoia for aspiring Millennial parents such as myself is the climate crisis and, more specifically, the type of world it will allow us to leave behind for future generations. Mahalia Belo’s The End We Start From, which is adapted by Normal People and Succession writer Alice Birch from Megan Hunter’s novel of the same name, brings these generational concerns into sharp focus by following a new mother (Jodie Comer) on her quest to find refuge in the wake of a catastrophic flood that has submerged London and much of the United Kingdom.

Comer, who has been steadily establishing herself as one of the finest actors of her generation since her breakthrough in Killing Eve, delivers an outstanding lead performance that immediately elevates Belo’s unhurried allegory beyond what it might otherwise have been. In a manner not dissimilar to her turn in Marc Munden’s COVID-19 drama The Help, Comer delicately navigates a gamut of emotions and, in doing so, makes the gravity of her character’s situation abundantly clear. It is a mightily impressive and powerful display that reinforces the notion that there are few - if any - more talented actors working today.

Belo’s vision of a U.K. that has been ravaged by an environmental disaster is also disconcertingly convincing, thanks in no small part to the impressive work of cinematographer Suzie Lavelle and production designer Laura Ellis-Cricks. This makes up for the occasional shortcomings of Birch’s screenplay, which intermittently indulges in the short of logic-defying scenes that are commonplace in disaster movies (such as a moment where Comer’s character and her friends find time to dance by a fireside to Caribou, despite there being no electricity or Wi-Fi).    

All in all, this is an effective call to arms that reminds audiences of the importance of doing our bit to help shape a more positive future for the next generation.

Twisters

In cinemas now

Lee Isaac Chung’s Twisters could well be one of the most polarising films of the year. On the one hand, it is an action flick that proudly wears its Spielbergian influences on its sleeve and is subsequently big on spectacle. On the other, it is an implausibly dumb affair whose love letter to the overt patriotism of rural America could be construed as being more than a little tone-deaf, given the tribal nature of the ongoing election campaign. 

Having endured over two hours of screenwriter Mark L. Smith’s psychobabble and unashamed expositioning, I’m firmly in the latter camp. Although there are moments where Twisters is a lot of fun, it is for the most part a staggeringly stupid affair that requires its audience to leave all logic and reasoning at the door. After all, how else could you seriously engage with a film that is centred on a group of storm chasers and their attempts to ‘tame a tornado’ by firing a sodium polyacrylate solution into it?

Admittedly, Chung’s fastidious approach to recreating the turbulent conditions associated with Twisters’ topic - which included shooting during Oklahoma’s tornado season - is admirable and ensures the film’s dependency on special effects is not overly apparent. Alas, Smith’s wretched dialogue and conventional approach to storytelling overpowers this and leaves an otherwise impressive cast with little to chew on. In the case of the latter, this is a shame as the chemistry between co-leads Daisy Edgar-Jones and Glen Powell is at least somewhat palatable, despite their near 10-year age gap.

Fancy Dance

Available on TV+

Erica Tremblay’s powerful feature debut is perhaps best characterised by the way it balances the tender relationship between an aunt and her niece with the harsh realities that many Native Americans have to contend with on a daily basis.

Co-written with Miciana Alise, Tremblay’s film sees Lily Gladstone follow her show-stealing performance in Killers of the Flower Moon with another powerful turn as Jax, a near destitute woman who, along with caring for her aforementioned relative, is desperate to find her missing sister. However, to do so she must contend with the state’s deep-seated apathy towards the wellbeing of reservation residents, a theme that is apparent throughout the film’s duration.

Jax’s world is upended further when unrepentant authorities decide to place her niece (Isabel DeRoy-Olson) into the custody of her estranged father (Shea Whigham), a decision which sets into motion a sequence of events that provide the basis for Fancy Dance’s narrative. What ensues is a tender, thought-provoking story that is every bit as charming as it is desperately sad, one which cements Gladstone as one of cinema’s foremost performers while also announcing DeRoy-Olson as a prodigy worth keeping an eye out for.

Much like Killers of the Flower Moon, Fancy Dance also shines a light on the injustices that the Native American people have had to endure for centuries, a wrong that remains a stain on the moral fabric of the United States.

Federer: Twelve Final Days

Available on Amazon Prime

After forensically analysing the life and times of Ayrton Senna, Amy Winehouse, and Diego Maradona, Asif Kapadia turns his attention to tennis legend Roger Federer and his final playing days. Federer: Twelve Final Days is co-directed with Joe Sabia, best known for his work on Vogue’s ‘73 Questions’ series, whose invitation by Federer to record his retirement announcement gave the film its origins. Subsequently, it is decidedly different from Kapadia’s other work, which is laudable for its forensic and unflinching documentation of its subject’s lives.

Given the fact that Federer is still alive and maintains an almost spotless public image, this is unsurprisingly a far more regulated affair, the purpose of which is to do little more than tie a neat bow on the last chapter of the sportsman’s illustrious career. Fans of the Swiss and the sport as a whole will no doubt be delighted by the opportunity to glimpse at the inner sanctum of such a storied figure, especially when it reunites him with former opponents such as Novak Djokovic and Rafael Nadal. 

Nonetheless, the film fails to offer little analysis of Federer’s game or psyche beyond that offered by his peers, who understandably elect to wax lyrical. As a PR exercise, this works well enough but casual observers will mostly leave Federer: Twelve Final Days none the wiser about its topic, which feels like a missed opportunity given Kapadia’s other body of work.  

Longlegs

In cinemas now

The latest feature from writer-director Osgood Perkins (son of Psycho’s own Anthony Perkins) has been subject to the sort of hype that has become the norm for the horror genre since its rebranding at the hands of prestige production houses such as A24 and Blumhouse. However, this proves to be both a blessing and a curse for Longlegs.

On the plus side, the fervent marketing of Perkins’ film prior to its release makes it very easy for audiences to quickly invest in its unsettling aura, which is aided by the work of cinematographer Andrés Arochi and composer Zilgi (the stage name of Osgood’s brother Elvis). Arochi frames the film in a dark and muted palette that complements its 1990s setting, while Zilgi’s eerie score adds to the increasing sense of dread that accompanies Longlegs’ best moments. 

Maika Monroe’s lead performance as an emotionally detached but highly intuitive FBI agent is also stellar, with Blair Underwood also impressive as her overtly macho superior officer. Nonetheless, both cannot help but be overshadowed by a typically larger-than-life turn from Nicolas Cage as the titular antagonist, a grotesque serial killer with a penchant for the occult that is only fully revealed at the film’s midway point. 

In terms of aesthetics, Cage’s villain is as memorable as any I can recall. The legendary actor’s unmistakably hammy style is an issue for Longlegs though, as its aggressive assumption of centre stage coincides with a dramatic tonal shift in Perkins’ screenplay. If the film’s first act is a dark and engrossing manhunt reminiscent of classics such as Se7en and The Silence of the Lambs, what follows is a nonsensical mishmash of satanic mumbo jumbo that is undeniably fun to watch but very difficult to take seriously (let alone be frightened by). 

This is symptomatic of the general issue with Longlegs, which is that it has the look and feel of ‘elevated horror’ but is at its core something decidedly sillier. Subsequently, I left my screening feeling somewhat underwhelmed, in spite of the fun I’d had watching Cage manically recite T-Rex lyrics. It’s an odd feeling of dissatisfaction that isn’t actually reflective of the film’s overall quality, but more so how are expectations are shaped by viral pre-release marketing.

A Quiet Place: Day One

In cinemas now

As is often the case with franchise filmmaking, it’s questionable whether A Quiet Place prequel was needed but, with circa $178m already banked from a $67m budget, the end has seemingly justified the means. Michael Sarnoski, whose 2021 debut Pig impressed, picks up the writer-director baton from Jeff Nichols, who dropped out of the project to presumably focus on his recently released passion project The Bikeriders. 

Sarnoski’s screenplay is focused on the terminally ill Sam (Lupita Nyong'o), who dreams of escaping the confines of the hospice she resides in and eating at her favourite pizza joint in NYC. It’s not long before a field trip and subsequent alien invasion gives her the chance to do exactly that, albeit at the risk of being mauled to death by Earth’s newest inhabitants. Nyong’o shares top billing with Stranger Things' Joseph Quinn, who plays a lonely and frightened law student who follows her on her quest.

Although Nyong’o and Quinn’s chemistry is nowhere near as compelling as that shared by the main characters of the previous A Quiet Place films, it does ground this otherwise perfunctory thriller in a modicum of emotion. That being said, both actors are arguably outshone by the real-life cats that perform as Sam’s feline companion Frodo, who manages to hold his nerve better than any of the film’s human characters. 

Sadly, the primary reason for that is that Day One really isn’t that scary, a shortcoming which is pretty much inexcusable when working with a premise as ingenious as that of John Krasinki’s original feature. The film’s modest runtime subsequently often feels far longer than it is, making the journey to its crescendo a mostly arduous one. Even the efforts of a performer as skilled as Nyong’o isn’t enough to elevate this beyond being another uninspired Hollywood spinoff.

The Bikeriders

In cinemas now

Those familiar with writer-director Jeff Nichols’ filmography will know that he is a creative that is unafraid to discard convention when telling a story. As a result, those expecting The Bikeriders to be the tale of warring motorcycle clubs that its promotional material suggests it to be might find themselves underwhelmed or perhaps even frustrated by its actual end product. 

Like much of his prior work, Nichols’ latest is an unhurried analysis of a slice of American subculture, in this case the sort of aforementioned clubs that are synonymous with Brylcreem, grease, leather, and the open road. Inspired by Danny Lyon’s photo-book of the same name, the film is centred on three protagonists played by Austin Butler, Jodie Comer, and Tom Hardy, and explores the unconventional appeal of living life as a rule-abiding outlaw.

To embellish on that juxtaposition further, the oddity of The Bikeriders’ characters is that they are uber-masculine and unafraid to break the law, yet steadfastly adhere to the rules of their club. Indeed, much of the film’s tension comes from the growing popularity of their lifestyle and the subsequent attempts by unrulier aspirants to infiltrate it and turn it into something that is altogether more dangerous. In that sense, it is an effective analysis of the male condition that is perhaps best viewed through Butler’s character, a rebel who, much to the frustration of his partner, is apparently devoid of emotion, until the film’s shocking finale finally elicits it from him.  

Although the stellar work of cinematographer Adam Stone and costume designer Erin Benach make it almost impossible to look away from Butler and Hardy, Comer is very much the MVP of this picture. Her performance, characterised by an accent that is not entirely dissimilar to that of Frenchy from Grease, is effervescent and provides unofficial narration which goes a long way to getting under the skin of the film’s topic. As was the case in Ridley Scott’s underrated The Last Duel, Comer more than holds her own against her heavyweight castmates and once again underlines her credentials as one of the most formidable actors working today.

With a formidable supporting cast (which includes frequent Nichols collaborator Michael Shannon) and a killer soundtrack to boot, it’d be hard to argue against The Bikeriders being the coolest picture of the year, although the substance beneath its slick facade is what really makes it worthwhile.

Inside Out 2

In cinemas now

It’s difficult not to approach this sequel to Pete Docter’s outstanding Inside Out without cynicism, given that it was announced as part of a ploy to boost Pixar’s profits. Its predecessor worked so well as a standalone feature that a continuation of its story doesn’t feel necessary, at least beyond being an excuse to reunite with memorable characters such as Joy (Amy Poehler) and Sadness (Phyllis Smith).

Still, if you choose not to ponder whether Inside Out 2 ought to exist, you can enjoy a serviceable follow-up that introduces entertaining new characters (of which Maya Hawke’s Anxiety is the standout) and builds on the themes of the first film, albeit without breaking new ground. To the credit of first-time director Kelsey Mann, Docter’s absence is not felt too keenly, with the film retaining the witty humour of the previous instalment, although original co-writer Meg LeFauve and Dave Holstein’s screenplay frustratingly opts to cautiously retread old motifs.

Nonetheless, there is enough good intention in Mann’s film - particularly in its depiction of complex and increasingly prevalent emotions such as anxiety - to make it worth the price of entry, as evidenced by its mightily impressive box office returns.