Classic Film Review #28: Tangerine

Available on Amazon Prime

Sean Baker’s audaciously loud breakthrough feature, which he co-wrote with his The Florida Project collaborator Chris Bergoch, is a fascinating study of the subcultures that permeate throughout Los Angeles. Shot using three iPhones, Tangerine focuses on a chaotic day in the life of a transgender sex worker (Kitana Kiki Rodriguez) who discovers that her boyfriend/pimp has been cheating.

Rodriguez and co-star Mya Taylor are a revelation and bring an enormous amount of energy to Baker’s film that is only partially matched by its frenetic soundtrack, which oscillates between pulsating drum and bass and opera. Equally as impressive is Baker’s ambitious direction, aided in no small part by Radium Cheung’s innovative cinematography, which manages to find a new way of documenting and exploring one of cinema’s most treasured locations.

Above all else, Tangerine provides an essential spotlight to the transgender community, one that simultaneously celebrates the vivacity of its central characters and the solidarity that quietly binds them together.  

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3

In cinemas now

James Gunn’s firing from the MCU back in 2018 came as a shock, considering the fact he had made the previously little-known Guardians of the Galaxy a household name. Thankfully, Gunn is back in the director’s chair for the third and allegedly final instalment of the Guardians saga, and with a heavy degree of creative freedom too.

That goes a long way to ensuring that Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 is a far more rewarding endeavour than a lot of the MCU’s recent output, with its unique cinematography, fantastic soundtrack and emotionally-driven storyline all standing out.

Said story sees the Guardians on an intergalactic quest to save Rocket (Bradley Cooper) from dying, a mission which sees them square down with the High Evolutionary (played by an excellent Chukwudi Iwuji). It is surprisingly a far darker instalment than the previous Guardians films and certainly pushes the boundaries of what we have come to expect from Marvel (this features the MCU’s first f-bomb!), placing a lot of emphasis on the theme of animal cruelty.

Indeed, the entire film is underpinned by a dark atmosphere that heightens its more tragic moments (such as Rocket’s upsetting back story) and leaves us sad to be waving goodbye to this ragtag group of heroes. There were few dry eyes in the cinema by the time the end credits finished rolling.

What’s also pleasing is that Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 feels entirely separate from the wider multiverse saga. There’s no mention of Kang the Conqueror, or even Thor for that matter. Essentially, this feels more like a James Gunn film than it does a Marvel one, and that’s a good thing. One can only hope that it will encourage the studio to persevere with more standalone, creatively-driven projects in the future.

The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry

In cinemas now

Hettie Macdonald’s big-screen adaptation of Rachel Joyce’s novel is a more complex affair than its promotional material would have you believe. On face value, The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry looks like the sort of polite, crowd-pleasing fare that British cinema has an occasional penchant for being.

It’s therefore a pleasant surprise to discover that Macdonald’s film (and indeed Joyce’s source material) is actually a layered musing on grief, with the pilgrimage of the titular protagonist proving to be a means of moving past an inescapable sorrow that only the passing of a loved one can inflict.

Jim Broadbent, who also voiced the novel’s audiobook, is fantastic in the lead role (as he was in last year’s The Duke), bringing an understated sadness to the character of Harold Fry that is both familiar and authentic. Penelope Wilton is also in stellar form as Fry’s jilted wife who, like her husband, appears frozen in time due to the unspeakable tragedy that has befallen her marriage.

There are aspects of this film that didn’t entirely work for me (it’s unafraid to indulge in many of the tropes of ‘feelgood’ cinema), but it is on the whole a modest and quietly affecting film that does its central topic justice aplenty.   

Sick of Myself

In selected cinemas now

Kristoffer Borgli’s acerbic picture offers a cynical take on influencer culture through the medium of both body horror and black comedy. Borgli’s screenplay is focused on the character of Signe (played by the excellent Kristine Kujath Thorp), a disillusioned young woman who is tired of living in the shadow of her obnoxious artist boyfriend (Eirik Sæther).

Signe is essentially on a quest to be seen by her peers, a relatable travail for anyone trying to navigate the ubiquitous social media age. However, rather than pursue this venture through either noble or traditional means, she decides to take obscene amounts of a banned drug that is known to cause skin disease, in the belief that her affliction will grant her the spotlight she routinely fantasises about.

In many ways, this feels like The Elephant Man in reverse, in the sense that the physical deformation of its protagonist is self-inflicted and at no point does the film ask you to sympathise with their plight. While that juxtaposition makes for a fitfully entertaining experience (Borgli certainly demonstrates a penchant for the sort of dark, unapologetic humour that appeals to certain viewers), it’s hard to shake the feeling that the deep-rooted cynicism of Sick of Myself ultimately leaves it devoid of a deeper meaning.

As The Smiths once said, it’s easy to laugh and hate but it takes strength to be gentle and kind, and Borgli misses a grand opportunity to say something more profound about a topic that is synonymous with our times. Kujath Thorp’s stellar performances ensures that Sick of Myself never outstays it welcome, but one can’t help feeling that it ultimately has very little to say about anything.  

How to Blow Up a Pipeline

In cinemas now

Imagine, if you will, that The Breakfast Club had an eco-conscious baby with Reservoir Dogs, and you’d have a fair reading of How to Blow Up a Pipeline. Daniel Goldhaber’s environmentalist thriller, which is adapted from Andreas Malm’s titular non-fiction book, is a tense procedural that is crucially grounded in believable character arcs that are easy to sympathise with.  

Malm’s source material extols the virtues of some controversial forms of activism – in this case, property destruction – and it’s therefore interesting to see Goldhaber and co-writers Ariela Barer (also a key cast member) and Jordan Sjol adopt a view of this that is mostly sympathetic. The motives of the film’s central characters are certainly easy to empathise with, but their actions have the potential to cause significant collateral damage and so are, morally speaking, a grey area.

How to Blow Up a Pipeline is thankfully unafraid to grapple with such quandaries and, while its crescendo makes Goldhaber and co.’s intentions clear, it generally does a good job of walking the ethical tightrope it sets for itself. Crucially, it also works just as effectively when viewed as a standalone thriller, with Goldhaber’s patient pacing and Gavin Brivik’s pulsating, synth-heavy score creating a gripping atmosphere from beginning to last. Tehillah De Castro’s cinematography also lends proceedings an authentically grainy, almost documentary-style feeling that really gives viewers the sense that they are watching something that could be construed as being real-life events, rather than a work of fiction.

Less patient viewers might take umbrage with the meticulous specificity of Goldhaber’s approach, but I found this to be compelling viewing and a rare case of an environmentally focused film conveying a difficult message in a way that doesn’t feel over-egged or preachy.

Ghosted

Available on Apple TV+

It’s easy to sneer at romcoms, given that few other genres are as prone to the dull, paint-by-numbers approach to filmmaking that is so often favoured by big studios. But, as viewers of the wonderful Rye Lane will attest, when they are good, they can be joyous and life-affirming.

Sadly, Ghosted is very much in the former camp. Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick’s story is a lazy rehash of previous genre fare (think True Lies without any of the 90s bombast), while co-stars Ana de Armas (who, on the back of last year’s Blonde, is on a worrying run of duds) and Chris Evans have all the chemistry of a couple that has been thrown together off the back of a hastily conducted market research exercise.

Amazingly, the robotic interactions between de Armas and Evans isn’t the worst thing about Ghosted. Nope, that honour would go to its screenplay, which feels like it was churned out by a malfunctioning piece of AI. Not only do Reese, Wernick and their motley crew of co-writers try and pass off Captain America as a honey farmer, they also ask you to believe that de Armas’ character would fall for him after he a) bombards her with texts after one date and b) takes a picture of her while she’s sleeping.

Yes, this is all kinds of bad – and that’s before I get on to Adrien Brody’s antagonist, who we are told is French but whose only connection to the home of the city of love appears to be that he is about as intimidating as a stale, long-forgotten baguette.  Which, funnily enough, would be another way of describing this mercifully forgettable film.

Classic Film Review #27: Raging Bull

In selected cinemas now

This brutal, blood-soaked biopic of boxer Jake LaMotta, otherwise known as 'The Bronx Bull', arguably represents a career high point for director Martin Scorsese and leading man Robert De Niro. Following on from the glorious psychosis of Taxi Driver, Raging Bull not only documents the life of the aforementioned brawler, but also offers a pertinent commentary on sexual insecurity and man's penchant for violence.

It's been well documented that Raging Bull was De Niro's pet project, with Scorsese only agreeing to direct following a drug relapse that landed him in hospital. And it’s inarguable that the film would not work without its star, who completely owns the screen from beginning to end and demands that you invest in LaMotta’s story – to be repulsed by his brutal treatment of the women in his life, exasperated by his unrelenting and self-destructive paranoia and, more than anything, feel the pain associated with every punch that is landed on his hardened face. Such intensity and dedication to his craft is what made De Niro the single greatest actor of his generation and what lends Raging Bull its greatest quality.

Scorsese's choice to film in monochrome also serves to differentiate this picture from the plethora of boxing films that have long populated mainstream cinema. To see La Motta stalk his opponents in elegant black and white is completely at odds with his abrasive and unnerving demeanour, but is something that, along with its gorgeous musical accompaniment, transcends the film beyond a mere biopic.

Similarly, the fact that the film is as preoccupied with La Motta’s deep seated, but painfully familiar, psychological issues as it is his boxing prowess makes Raging Bull a far more emotionally ambiguous film than one would first presume it to be. The crescendo, best known for the dramatic weight gain endured by De Niro, is arguably as galling to watch as some of the fight scenes – a once fine athlete left destitute and physically bloated as a result of his personal misdemeanours. Truly, it’d be a shocking story if it wasn’t so commonplace.

Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre

Available on Amazon Prime now

Summarising Guy Ritchie’s latest slice of cinematic machismo is an especially difficult task, given that it is almost impossible to decipher whether the absurdly far-fetched Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre is an exercise in sincerity or a total spoof.

The plot alone, which Ritchie co-wrote with The Gentleman collaborators Ivan Atkinson and Marn Davies, certainly leans towards the latter scenario, it being focused on a comically named super spy (played by Jason Statham with all the vigour of a doorknob) and his efforts to retrieve a device that is powerful enough to crash the global economy.

The spy (who is genuinely named Orson Fortune) is helped along the way by two fellow sleuths, who are played by the British rapper Bugzy Malone and Aubrey Plaza. The latter is certainly far better than this sort of fare, though she does seem to have fun in the sort of ‘hot computer hacker’ role that only a director as retrograde as Ritchie could perceive as being progressive.

Unless of course, he doesn’t see it that way and Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre is actually an ingenious takedown of the chauvinist action flicks of yesteryear. Personally, given Ritchie's previous output, I doubt that that’s the case but this film is certainly nutty enough for that to be true, as is evidenced by Hugh Grant’s character, who at the very least is the campest arms dealer you will ever see on screen.

Renfield

In cinemas now

There have been many on-screen iterations of Bram Stoker’s vampiric antagonist, all of which have oscillated wildly in quality. From Bela Lugosi’s iconic turn in 1931 to Gary Oldman’s utterly bizarre performance in Francis Ford Coppola’s almost pornographic 1992 adaptation, several actors have made for a standout Dracula.

The idea of Nicolas Cage donning said blood-swilling villain’s cape is therefore resplendent with bat-shit crazy possibilities, particularly given that he is hot off the heels of one of his best performances in years in The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent. Sadly, Chris McKay’s Renfield falls someway short of tapping into that potential.

McKay and screenwriter Ryan Ridley’s decision to centre their film on Dracula’s titular servant is a pleasingly left-field decision, and Nicholas Hoult delivers a game and surprisingly action-packed performance in that role. Alas, Renfield undoubtedly suffers due to its bizarre decision to limit much of Cage’s screen-time to a series of scene-stealing but frustratingly interspersed interactions with the film’s other central characters.

Given that Ridley’s screenplay frequently claims to be concerned with co-dependant relationships, this is an odd creative choice that leaves the film feeling uneven. Hoult’s Renfield professes to be at loggerheads with Dracula, but he spends most of his time either attending survivor’s groups, offing Ben Schwartz’s laughably disposable henchman, or attempting to woo Awkwafina’s hardened cop.

All of this is made more problematic by the nagging suspicion that McKay is attempting to make a film in a similar vein to Taika Waititi’s What We Do in the Shadows (and its successful spin-off series), something which burdens Renfield with an inferiority complex that it never quite manages to shake off.

The Super Mario Bros. Movie

In cinemas now

The build-up to this latest adaptation of the Super Mario Bros. franchise was certainly interesting, with the casting of Chris Pratt initially causing consternation among the fanbase, before almost all (myself included) were won over by the trailers.

And, while the critical reaction to The Super Mario Bros. Movie has mostly been negative, I personally had a lot of fun with it. As well as serving as a fateful interpretation of the much-loved games, it is a well-crafted animation that looks great. It was pleasing to see Illumination adopt an almost completely different aesthetic to their norm, and plenty of care clearly went into the design of the characters and their environments.

The voice cast is also a joy, with the standout clearly being Jack Black in the villainous role of Bowser. That man always puts in 110% and I’m all here for it. Possibly my favourite thing about this movie though was its score, with Brian Tyler doing a fantastic job of adapting various pieces from Mario’s extensive history.  

None of this is to say that The Super Mario Bros. Movie is flawless. It’s pacing is particularly distracting, with the film moving far too fast at times and its overall character development and themes often being overlooked in favour of nostalgic references. Consequently, and in comparison to other similar animated fare (such as The Lego Movie), this means that proceedings do feel slightly hollow at times. 

But, for me at least, this wasn’t problematic because I wasn’t expecting a masterpiece. This is, by and large, a childish adaptation of a brilliant video game franchise and is subsequently a lot of fun, which is about all I hoped to get out of it.

Tetris

Available on Apple TV+

Apple’s latest big budget foray is not dissimilar to another recent release, Ben Affleck’s Air, in the sense that it manages to construct an intriguing (if not a little formulaic) picture out of an incredibly niche topic. In this instance, the subject is the race to license and patent the video game Tetris during the late 1980s, a contest which was made all the more complicated by the fact that the original intellectual property was owned by Soviet Russia.

Noah Pink’s screenplay taps into that Cold War paranoia well, constructing an overarching tone that means Tetris blends the playful hue of its video-game aesthetic with a welcome amount of shade. Alas, Jon S. Baird’s cautious direction (which jars with previous work such as the delightfully caustic Filth) ensures that viewers are seldom left doubting whether a happy ending is in order, with the film’s final act literally descending into a car chase that looks and feels as if it’s been lifted straight out of an arcade game.

Taron Egerton’s energetic lead performance is undoubtedly key to the film’s overall appeal (though it sometimes feels like a pastiche of Wolf of Wall Street DiCaprio), and praise also ought to go to the film’s overall style, which plays on the comfort blanket charms of both the 80s and retro video games to craft a distinct look and feel. While Tetris is unlikely to live as long in pop culture consciousness as its namesake, there’s plenty to like about this charming affair.

Close

Available on Mubi on April 21st

Lukas Dhont’s sophomore directorial feature is a powerful coming-of-age drama that examines the complex depths of childhood friendships through the lenses of both closeted sexuality and toxic masculinity, societal tropes that are familiar enough to make Close feel like a deeply personal experience for many viewers.

Dhont’s screenplay, which he co-wrote with frequent collaborator Angelo Tijssens, focuses on the relationship between Léo (Eden Dambrine) and Rémi (Gustav De Waele), and how it gradually comes apart at the seams as both boys navigate the difficult transition to middle school. While the former reluctantly embraces heteronormative conventions, the latter becomes more isolated and withdrawn, eventually leading to a devastating turn of events at the film’s mid-way point.

Both of the film’s lead actors (though in particular Dambrine) defy their previous status as amateurs and deliver performances that are impeccably restrained, despite the complexity of their character’s respective arcs. Meanwhile, Dhont’s direction, aided in no small part by Frank van den Eeden’s vivid cinematography and Valentin Hadjadj’s contemplative score, ensures that Close also makes for a memorably sensory experience.

However, there are moments – particularly in the film’s final act – where the film’s aesthetic seems to take precedence over its story, with sweeping pastoral shots becoming so commonplace that they begin to feel as critical to events as the narrative itself. When a film is as gorgeous as Close is then that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it does slightly stunt what is otherwise a formidable and empathic picture.  

Classic Film Review #26: 12 Years a Slave

Available on Amazon Prime

Harrowing from the offset, Steve McQueen's macabre retelling of Solomon Northup's remarkable life story gets straight to the heart of the disease that plagued America throughout the 18th and 19th centuries, pulling no punches in its quest to fully demonstrate the inhumanity of slavery.  

Northup’s abduction and eventual escape is seen through the eyes of an outstanding Chiwetel Ejiofor, who delivers an empathic and arguably career-best performance. Along the way he is enslaved by various plantation owners, and John Ridley’s screenplay does a diligent job of demonstrating how such characters oscillate from a moral standpoint. Take, for example, Benedict Cumberbatch’s mild-but-complicit planter, who is (on face value at least) the polar opposite of the monstrous character played by Michael Fassbender, but nonetheless guilty of the same crime.

This is one of many clever touches that mean 12 Years a Slave, almost a decade on from its release, remains a vital film that simply cannot be ignored. One of McQueen’s greatest skills as a director is his ability to use the mise en scène of his pictures to communicate their meaning, and this is no more pronounced than the slow pan of a solitary bar of soap that succeeds one of this film's most excruciating moments.

Powered by outstanding turns from Ejiofor and Lupita Nyongo'o, this is a devastating and vital piece of cinema that continues to offer a chilling and prescient history lesson to its viewers.

Infinity Pool

In cinemas now

The title of Brandon Cronenberg’s third feature hints at the deeper meaning that prevails through this unhinged acid dream – after all, what symbolises insane wealth in the modern age more than an infinity pool? In a manner not dissimilar to his father’s film Maps to the Stars, Cronenberg’s latest demonstrates a deep cynicism for the uber rich that remains prevalent from its inaugural frame to its last, but sadly fails to say little of interest throughout its near two-hour runtime.

While you cannot help but be impressed by the sheer audacity of Infinity Pool and, in particular, the lead performances of both Alexander Skarsgård and Mia Goth, it is hard to look past its worst tendencies, which include an over-indulgence in fetishistic, gratuitous and, most importantly, senseless violence.

The chin-stroking cultural commentary that Cronenberg is seemingly attempting to make never warrants this, with it mostly being a hotchpotch of ideas that one would assume are borrowed from the works of writers such as Dostoyevsky and Kafka. It is, for the most part, a deeply unpleasant film that is helmed by characters who are so intentionally repulsive that it becomes hard to care one iota about their respective arcs, a conundrum which is compounded further by the fact that the events of Infinity Pool are annoyingly repetitive.

That being said, it is a daring piece of cinema with a very distinct oeuvre, due in no small part to Cronenberg’s disorientating direction, Karim Hussain’s vivid cinematography, and Tim Hecker’s pulsating score. It’s not hard to imagine Cronenberg delivering a truly great film in years to come, but this is not it.

Classic Film Review #25: 8-Mile

Available on Netflix

Great musical biopics are few and far between and though Curtis Hanson’s 8-Mile doesn’t entirely meet either of those criteria, it does succeed in being an entertaining and believable account of a great musician’s formative years.

While Scott Silver’s screenplay is not completely autobiographical, it does draw on many of Eminem’s real-life experiences growing up on the borderline of Detroit’s titular racial divide. To bring those happenings to life, 8-Mile needs a convincing performance from its lead actor and the rapper more than exceeds expectations on that front, making for a compelling screen presence throughout.

Neither Hanson or Silver break new ground in their structuring of this picture, with the arc of its central character drawing similarities with that of any underdog story, but a safety-first approach to storytelling can be forgiven when it culminates in a scene as memorable as 8-Mile’s final rap battle.

Put simply, it is Eminem at its finest and something that, over 20 years after the film’s original release, provides an ample reminder of his immense, generational talent as a wordsmith.

Air

In cinemas from April 5th

Behind every great brand is often a compelling story, and Ben Affleck’s Air proves that the iconic Air Jordan shoe-line is no exception to that rule. The film, written by Alex Convery, details how Sonny Vaccaro, a determined sports marketing executive, managed to convince Jordan to sign with Nike rather than their then more popular competitors Adidas and Converse.

To do that, both Vaccaro and Nike co-founder Phil Knight had to cook up one of the most ground-breaking endorsement deals in sports history, thanks in no small part to some gentle persuasion from Jordan’s mother Deloris. As someone who has worked in the marketing industry, I couldn’t help but be intrigued to learn about the inner workings of such a globally renown brand, as well as the maverick leadership that makes a billion-dollar business tick.

Nonetheless, Air is an undeniably functional film that takes very little risks with its subject matter, mostly opting to lean into the sort of feel-good Eighties nostalgia that is always well received by audiences. Matt Damon is typically dependable in the lead role and is aided by a solid supporting cast that includes Affleck, Chris Tucker, Jason Bateman, and the ever-excellent Viola Davis.

Michael Jordan’s absence from the film is a peculiarity that doesn’t entirely make sense, but the basketball legend is known to at least have given Convery’s screenplay his seal of approval, meaning that Air is if nothing else a pretty faithful retelling of the Air Jordan story.  

Boston Strangler

Available on Disney Plus

Matt Ruskin’s film makes for a mostly fateful retelling of how two female journalists, Loretta McLaughlin and Jean Cole, broke the chilling story of the Boston Strangler, who murdered 13 women in the early 1960s.

The screenplay, also written by Ruskin, is mostly centred on McLaughlin, and for that the director is rewarded with an impressively stoic performance from Keira Knightley, who offers an ample reminder of her credentials as a leading lady. Carrie Coon is less fortunate with the role of the aforementioned Cole, with her character feeling underdeveloped for the most part.

Indeed, Boston Strangler fails to make the most of an impressive supporting cast that also includes the always impressive Chris Cooper and David Dastmalchian, with the film generally struggling to emerge from the shadow of narratively similar, but altogether more impressive, films such as Se7en and Zodiac.

Despite this, the true story at the heart of this picture provides a sad yet timely reminder of the everyday fear that pervades the female experience, while the Boston police force’s botched attempt to bring the killer(s) to justice reinforces the notion that the authorities are not inherently geared towards protecting the women they are supposed to serve.

Given the UK government’s damning recent report of the institutional failings within the Met Police, it would seem that not much has changed since, which grants films such as Boston Strangler a depressing relevance they perhaps would otherwise not possess.

Allelujah

In cinemas now

This big screen adaptation of Alan Bennett’s play has all the ingredients needed for a slice of feelgood British cinema, but its narrative is far too misshapen to deliver it. Despite the humorously dry Northern stylings of said playwright and the presence of a stellar ensemble cast, Allelujah fails to settle on a definitive tone and ultimately makes for an oddly unaffecting viewing experience.

Directed by Richard Eyre, a veteran of British theatre, and written by Heidi Thomas (of Call the Midwife fame), the film is centred on the geriatric ward of a hospital that is threatened with impending closure but, despite its failings, is cherished by its local community. Given the ongoing threat that is posed to the NHS by the current Conservative government, such a premise feels both timely and essential and yet, aside from its impassioned closing monologue, this picture fails to do the topic justice.

This is due largely to the volume of competing narratives that are contained within its narrative. Whether it is the odd-but-endearing father and son dynamic shared by Russell Tovey and David Bradley’s characters, or the respective arcs of Jennifer Saunders’ experienced nurse and Bally Gill’s South Asian doctor, there is ultimately too many undercurrents in play to ever feel truly gripped by the overarching story. This is despite a late-in-the-day twist involving Saunders’ character that is so unexpected it feels rather ridiculous, regardless of its severity.     

But perhaps chief amongst Allelujah’s crime is its bizarre relegation of both Derek Jacobi and Judi Dench to unimportant side characters, a flagrant waste of acting royalty.     

Classic Film Review #24: The Father

Available on Netflix

I can clearly recall seeing the trailer for The Father as far back as 2021 and being instantly intrigued by its premise and visual style. Sadly, the final cut didn’t quite live up to my expectations.

Adapted from a play by Florian Zeller (who is also on directorial duties), the film has a very stagy vibe that doesn’t quite translate to the screen as well as one would have hoped.

That’s not to say The Father is without its merits though. Ben Smithard’s cinematography is fantastic, as is Yorgos Lampinos’ editing. Most importantly, its lead performances are incredible, with Anthony Hopkins on stellar form as the titular patriarch. His delivery, even of the film’s more melodramatic material, is often heartbreaking, and he plays off Olivia Colman very well.

The way in which Zeller plays around with the underlying themes of perspective and time is also admirable, with many of the interactions between Hopkins and Colman folding in on themselves and returning to their starting point. This makes for an intriguing viewing experience whereby the audience is required to piece things together as the narrative unfolds, which is all the more fitting given The Father is a film about dementia.

Sadly, there is little else to grab onto here, as the film fails to scratch beneath the surface of its central characters, instead tending to rely on the shock value of its events. This means it doesn’t hit as hard on a repeat viewing, though this is arguably just as much down to the innate difficulty of effectively translating works of theatre to the silver screen.

That being said, The Father is certainly worth watching for Hopkins’ magnetic lead performance alone.

Rye Lane

In cinemas now

Raine Allen-Miller’s debut feature offers a fresh new take on the romcom which draws from the genre classics of old but simultaneously wraps its narrative in a colourful and vibrant love letter to South London.    

Nathan Bryon and Tom Melia’s smart screenplay tells the story of two jilted lovers, played cooly by Vivian Oparah and David Jonsson, whose chance encounter leads them to embark on a spontaneous bout of freestyle relationship therapy while pounding the streets of Peckham and Brixton together. Naturally, the chemistry between Oparah and Jonsson is critical to Rye Lane’s appeal, and they make for a charming couple that is easy to root for.

But what is most impressive about this picture is its sheer effervescence, which ensures that local landmarks such as Rye Lane Market and Peckhamplex look every bit as hip as they feel to Londoners and ‘in the know’ tourists alike. That is due in no small part to Allen-Miller’s assured direction and Olan Collardy’s bright cinematography, as well as a lush soundtrack that features new music from Sampha and classics from A Tribe Called Quest (always a winner with this writer) and Salt-N-Peppa.