AgentNico Film Reviews @agentnico - Tumblr Blog

Evil Dead Burn (2026) review

The dad’s Russian roulette skills were off the charts!

Plot: After the loss of her husband, a woman seeks solace with her in-laws. But as they begin transforming into Deadites one by one, she discovers that the vows she took in life survive even in death.

The Evil Dead franchise began life drenched in Sam Raimi’s uniquely campy blend of horror and comedy. Beneath all the blood and gore, there was always an infectious sense of silliness and absurdity. That changed with Fede Álvarez’s brutal 2013 reboot, which traded the series’ mischievous streak for something closer to Saw-level torture porn, complete with grotesque dismemberments and lovingly detailed flesh-ripping.

Personally, I miss the gleeful chaos of Raimi and Rob Tapert’s originals. No character from the reboot era has come close to matching Bruce Campbell’s iconic Ash, although I still had a great time with Evil Dead Rise, which delivered one hell of a gore-fest and perhaps the greatest opening title card in horror history.

Unfortunately, Evil Dead Burn feels like the moment the franchise is finally starting to run out of steam. The formula of taking another unsuspecting family and systematically feeding them to the Deadites has become increasingly repetitive, and here it feels more mechanical than ever. To the film’s credit, it goes all-in on the carnage: every taboo is gleefully crossed and then stomped into the dirt. The problem is that none of it is particularly scary anymore.

Maybe that says more about me than the film itself. Years of horror marathons may have completely desensitised me to exploding eyeballs and severed limbs. But when the biggest reaction I had was an occasional wince rather than genuine dread, something clearly wasn’t working.

As with so many entries in the series, the characters are so relentlessly unlikeable that it becomes difficult to invest in their survival. With each grisly death, my emotional response increasingly drifted towards complete indifference. That’s a shame, because director Sébastien Vaniček brings some genuinely inventive filmmaking to the table, peppering the film with clever camera movements, zooms and visual flourishes that stop things from becoming visually stale.

Sadly, stylish direction can only do so much to rescue a weak script that offers little new beyond finding fresh ways to mutilate its cast. Even the post-credits scenes, which tease the franchise’s future with an unmistakably Marvel-style “the universe expands” approach, leave a distinctly sour taste.

Following this year’s more imaginative horror offerings like Obsession and Backrooms, Evil Dead suddenly feels in desperate need of reinvention. Here’s hoping Evil Dead Wrath remembers that there’s more to this series than simply asking, “How much blood can we fit on screen this time?” At this point, the Deadites aren’t the ones who need resurrecting — the franchise itself does.

Overall score: 3/10

The Odyssey (2026) review

Since when did the Ancient Greeks drop F-bombs?

Plot: The Odyssey is a mythic action epic that adapts Homer’s foundational saga.

Oh man, I seem to be in the severe minority on Christopher Nolan’s latest epic, at least judging by the avalanche of glowing reactions flooding in from critics and audiences alike. People appear to be absolutely awestruck by The Odyssey. I, unfortunately, had a rather different experience.

Before the complaints begin, though, let’s talk about the positives. I caught the film at my local arts centre in 35mm, which was an experience in itself. Watching a movie projected from actual celluloid gives everything a warmer, rougher texture that digital simply can’t replicate. The occasional softness, flickers and imperfections made the whole thing feel tangible and, ironically, added far more life to the image than Nolan’s strangely muted colour palette ever managed on its own.

And despite my issues with the film, its scale is undeniably impressive. The sight of Odysseus’ ship crossing vast oceans to the visual of the big horse with Troy burning in the background is genuinely jaw-dropping, and Nolan’s commitment to practical filmmaking shines through. Hundreds of extras fill the frame, and there’s an authenticity to the spectacle that modern blockbusters often lack.

The problem is that The Odyssey mistakes scale for substance.

For one thing, The Odyssey is exhaustingly loud. Ludwig Göransson’s score—or at least what occasionally resembles one—is an endless barrage of pounding drums and synths, with very little in the way of memorable themes. Combined with Nolan’s hyperactive editing, even the action scenes become frustratingly messy, with rapid cuts often making it difficult to tell what’s actually happening.

More disappointing, however, is just how little of the film feels mythological. Nolan opts for a grounded, minimalist approach that strips away much of the wonder from Homer’s story. The Sirens are barely visible through fog, Scylla the multi headed serpent resembles an unconvincing giant worm made out of cheap cardboard, Charybdis has been downgraded to what is essentially a fancy whirlpool, and the Laestrygonian giants are reduced to oversized soldiers who appear briefly before disappearing from the film entirely.

The exceptions are excellent. The Cyclops sequence plays like genuine horror, while Circe’s segment embraces grotesque body horror in a way that recalls An American Werewolf in London, complete with some fantastic practical effects. But outside of those moments, Nolan seems oddly determined to sand down every fantastical edge of one of literature’s most imaginative adventures. Even the Greek gods are reimagined as regular humans making surprisingly monotone cameos.

And for a film pushing three hours, the characters are given remarkably little room to breathe. Thanks to the relentless pacing and constant cutting, much of the cast feels less like ancient figures and more like an expensive collection of celebrities in period costumes. John Leguizamo and Anne Hathaway do however emerge as the clear standouts, bringing genuine emotional weight to the story, while Matt Damon’s weathered Odysseus at least convincingly looks like a man who has spent the last decade having the worst holiday imaginable. On the other hand Tom Holland struggles to segregate himself from his Spidey foil, and the likes of Zendaya (looking as if in a constant state of having a migraine), Charlize Theron (staring emptily into the void of the camera), Mia Goth (showing up for 2 seconds), Himesh Patel (pouting Dwayne Johnson style throughout) and Corey Hawkins (screaming every line) all appear in monotone territory. Robert Pattinson, bless his cotton socks, plays the weaselly antagonist to annoying perfection, however we’ve seen him in roles like this before, and to much grander effect (see The Devil All the Time). As for the complaints about so-called “wokeness”, Elliot Page is only in the film for about 5 minutes total so the haters can can calm down, however he actually does a solid job, in particular in a scene set in the Underworld. And as for Lupita N’yongo, yes it is an interesting casting choice for Helen of Troy, however it’s hard to deny that she doesn’t have presence.

Then there’s the swearing. Random F-bombs are sprinkled throughout the script with such abandon that I half expected Zeus himself to start sounding like he’d wandered out of a Guy Ritchie film. Oh, and don’t get me started on the baffling scene at the beginning where Leguizamo’s character is murdering puppies for no good reason.

I realise I’m very much swimming against the tide here, and most people seem to be creaming their jeans over Nolan’s latest masterpiece. But for all its technical wizardry and gigantic budget, Nolan’s film feels oddly hollow: a version of Homer that’s embarrassed by gods, monsters and fantasy, and therefore sands away everything that made the original story endure for nearly three thousand years. All that remains of Homer are sandals resembling sneakers; all that remains of Homer’s Odyssey are mere motifs. There is no poetry—only dry, modern language. The dialogue is simplified, devoid of emotion or vitality; if anything, it hinders immersion.

Nolan lugged around a 200-kilogram IMAX camera, but instead of epic scope, I saw emptiness and a lack of life. Honestly, if you want a version that embraces the monsters, gods and sheer weirdness of Ancient Greek mythology, the delightfully camp 1997 miniseries still does a better job.

That said, the 35mm screening absolutely ruled.

Overall score: 4/10

The Invite (2026) review

Neighbours and Chill.

Plot: Joe and Angela’s marriage is on thin ice. When they invite their enigmatic upstairs neighbours over for dinner, the evening spirals into increasingly unexpected places.

Following the controversial mess both in front of and behind the camera surrounding Don’t Worry Darling, Olivia Wilde was in desperate need of a comeback. She wisely returns to the indie scene, where she previously thrived with her directorial debut, Booksmart, a fresh and hilarious modern spin on the Superbad formula. Now, with The Invite—one of the most talked-about films to emerge from this year’s Sundance Film Festival—Wilde directs herself alongside Seth Rogen, Penélope Cruz and Edward Norton in a four-hander, single-location comedy of anxiety… and this may well be the hardest I’ve laughed in a cinema all year.

Before getting to the comedy, Olivia Wilde’s direction deserves enormous praise. Despite taking place almost entirely within a single apartment, the film never feels visually confined. The cinematography is consistently dynamic, from the inventive framing to the fluid camera movement, giving the whole thing an intimate yet edgy energy. Wilde clearly set out to prove herself here, leaving the rocky Don’t Worry Darling era—and, fittingly, her past with Harry Styles—behind in favour of a bold new one direction.

Anyway, back to the comedy. I haven’t heard a cinema erupt into this much sustained, awkward laughter since 2017’s The Death of Stalin. The screenplay is razor-sharp, which isn’t surprising given its origins as a stage play, but what really elevates it is how perfectly every actor understands the assignment. Every line lands.

Seth Rogen has genuinely never been better utilised. You still get his trademark belly laugh (it’s actually the film’s opening sound) and, naturally, he smokes plenty of weed, but beneath all the swearing there’s a surprising sincerity to his performance. It’s exactly the Seth Rogen you’d expect, yet he feels completely at home here. Olivia Wilde is arguably the standout, with her character existing in a perpetual state of escalating hysteria. Her rapid-fire delivery and wonderfully unhinged facial expressions make every breakdown hysterically funny. Penélope Cruz is effortlessly sensual, while Edward Norton is delightfully sleazy—as you’d expect from a man who insists everyone calls him Hawk.

This is one of those films where everything clicks into place. The editing is impeccably paced, giving every joke the perfect rhythm, and despite essentially being four people talking for 90 minutes, it never once feels static. New revelations and twists keep arriving at exactly the right moments, while beneath the laughs lies a surprisingly thoughtful examination of marriage, relationships, and how people drift apart over time. The emotional gut punch in the second half genuinely lands.

The score is used sparingly but to great effect, and it’s remarkable how much Wilde achieves with such a contained production. Ironically, my other favourite film of the year, Obsession, succeeded for much the same reason: a modest budget, a simple premise, and complete confidence in its execution.

I loved The Invite. It’s cordial, welcoming, incredibly funny, and, at the end of the day, it’s always entertaining to watch attractive people (and Seth Rogen) desperately wanting to sleep with one another.

Overall score: 9/10

Supergirl (2026) review

Oh shoot.

Plot: When an unexpected and ruthless adversary strikes too close to home, Kara Zor-El, aka Supergirl, reluctantly joins forces with an unlikely companion on an epic, interstellar journey of vengeance and justice.

The second feature-length outing for the new DC Universe arrives following last year’s Superman. That film was bursting with joy and hope, anchored by a knockout performance from David Corenswet as the Man of Steel, while James Gunn’s trademark humour and wackiness worked perfectly in establishing this new universe. However, with the release of Supergirl, it has become painfully clear that Gunn needs to make a decision—and sooner rather than later. Does he want to continue directing films while someone else oversees the DCU as its creative president, or does he want to step back from directing and focus on being the franchise’s architect?

Because directing and producing are both full-time jobs, and Supergirl proves that trying to do both simply isn’t working. While Gunn has been occupied with Superman, Peacemaker Season 2, and is currently filming Man of Tomorrow for 2027, Supergirl feels like it has been left on autopilot. The result is a film that is, quite simply, a massive disappointment as only the second feature in a brand-new cinematic universe.

From the moment James Gunn and Peter Safran took over DC Studios, they promised that no project would enter production until they had both read and approved a strong script. Well… that promise is now looking highly questionable, because Supergirl’s script is super shit.

The dialogue is genuinely clumsy, the story is paper-thin, and it boils down to Supergirl searching for an antidote to save her poisoned dog, Krypto, while chasing one of the most generic villains imaginable. We literally just had Masters of the Universe, where Jared Leto’s Skeletor was evil simply because he enjoyed being evil, yet at least he had enough self-deprecating humour and theatrical edge to make him entertaining. Krem, meanwhile, is just a permanently grumpy bloke who spends most of the film walking menacingly down corridors and rolling his eyes.

What’s even more baffling is how inconsistent the script is with his character. He murders countless people—including children—without hesitation, yet later, when one of the main characters spits in his face after refusing to reveal Supergirl’s location, instead of killing her on the spot he simply mutters, “This one dies before the end of the day,” before walking off.

Mate… just kill her.

Why are you waiting until the end of the day? Just because she’s wearing a thick layer of plot armour doesn’t mean the script has to become this lazy.

Visually, this is one of the ugliest blockbuster films I’ve seen in years. I’m not even talking about the shameless green-screen usage—I’m talking about the lifeless production design. Every location looks bland, grey and completely devoid of personality. It’s especially frustrating because the Woman of Tomorrow comics that inspired this film are bursting with vibrant colour and imaginative worlds. So why does the movie look like someone accidentally left the saturation slider at zero?

The editing is somehow even worse. Every conversation is chopped to pieces, with the camera cutting every couple of seconds. No shot is ever allowed to breathe, meaning the actors never have the opportunity to build any emotional weight.

It’s therefore difficult to properly judge Milly Alcock and Jason Momoa as Supergirl and Lobo. Momoa, in particular, is dream casting. Fans have wanted him as Lobo for years, and visually he’s absolutely perfect. But performance-wise? He was… alright. He gets a handful of funny quips, but he barely has anything meaningful to do, and the frantic editing robs him of the grizzled charisma that should define the character.

Alcock is perfectly serviceable as a hard-drinking, pub-crawling Supergirl, but the film never convincingly explains her bitterness towards humanity. In fact, her backstory of growing up surrounded by a loving family almost works against the personality we’re introduced to. Then, when she finally embraces hope and begins to see the good in others, the emotional payoff feels completely unearned because the film never actually develops her as a character along the way.

The soundtrack is another huge misfire.

Clearly trying to replicate Guardians of the Galaxy, the film is packed with ‘80s needle drops. The difference is that in Guardians, the songs are woven into the story through Star-Lord’s Walkman, making them feel like a natural part of the world. Here, Supergirl walks into a random alien bar on a planet with absolutely no connection to Earth, only to find an alien singing a famous ’80s pop song on stage.

Why?

How?

And why does this alien bar apparently have a jukebox full of classic American hits?

It completely undermines the world-building, and the rest of the soundtrack feels just as random, with songs awkwardly spliced into scenes that don’t benefit from them in the slightest.

Look, I could rant about this film for hours. Supergirl is a disappointment on almost every level. The only genuine highlights are a brilliant five-to-six-minute backstory segment exploring Kara’s life on Krypton before its destruction, and Superman’s extended cameo appearances, where David Corenswet once again radiates warmth, sincerity and effortless charisma. Every time he appeared, I found myself wishing I was watching his movie instead.

If nothing else, it has made me even more excited for Man of Tomorrow.

We’ll see how Clayface fares later this year, but as it stands, Supergirl has taken several worrying steps backwards for the DCU.

Overall score: 2/10

Toy Story 5 (2026) review

The biggest mystery in Disclosure Day wasn’t the aliens — it was how a CGI deer ended up looking less convincing than an animated one in Toy Story 5.

Plot: When Bonnie receives a Lilypad tablet as a gift and becomes obsessed with it, Buzz, Woody, Jessie, and the rest of the gang find their jobs exponentially harder as they go head-to-head with an all-new threat to playtime.

My lovely wife and I recently rewatched all of the Toy Story films in preparation for this one, and can we just stop for a moment and appreciate the consistency of this Pixar franchise? It’s been going since 1995 (two years before I was even born!), yet the originals still hold up perfectly. Even Toy Story 4, despite feeling unnecessary after the perfect ending of the third film, managed to expand the toy universe and provide a fitting epilogue to Woody’s story. Heck, screw the haters (yes, they exist) — Toy Story 4 is great.

Now we arrive at Toy Story 5, and I’m fairly certain we’ll be getting a sixth one too. Just like Andy, Bonnie seems destined for her own trilogy. The narrative direction also feels inevitable. After multiple films exploring toys coming to terms with being outgrown and accepting their purpose, the only major territory left was technology. It’s undeniably relevant: modern kids have access to screens from an incredibly young age, and playtime has increasingly shifted from running around outside with friends to slouching on the sofa glued to a tablet.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with Toy Story tackling that subject. The problem is that, while this franchise has always been known for emotional and resonant themes, it rarely felt preachy. Toy Story 5 leans into its tech message so heavily that many of its emotional beats feel manufactured. Of course we’re going to feel bad when Bonnie gets cyberbullied — it’s an upsetting thing to witness — but is that emotional reaction earned by the film itself, or by the real-world issue it’s depicting?

Outside of the technology angle, the film also revisits the familiar “toy struggles to accept they’re no longer wanted” storyline, this time through Jessie. Once again, it’s competently done, but after five films there’s definitely a sense of “been there, done that.” The magic just isn’t quite there anymore.

The movie is also surprisingly inconsistent with its own rules. Yes, I’m aware I’m criticising realism in an animated film where toys come to life, but previous entries established a fairly clear internal logic. One of the classic jokes in the original film is that Buzz can’t actually fly — he merely falls with style. In Toy Story 5, however, Buzzes (plural) suddenly can fly. There are entire armies of Buzz Lightyears with what are essentially superpowers, zooming around like drones. It all gets a bit ridiculous. I know it’s a cartoon, but it still feels at odds with the lore the franchise spent decades establishing.

As for the characters, this is where the film really struggles. Unlike Toy Story 4, where newcomers like Duke Caboom, Ducky, Bunny, Gabby Gabby, and Forky all had distinct personalities and memorable moments, the new additions here feel surprisingly one-note. Even the Conan O’Brien-voiced Smarty Pants — a device designed to help teach kids how to use the toilet — left me wondering if this franchise has finally embraced toilet humour as a primary character trait. Have we really reached this point?

What’s even more disappointing is how many of the original toys are sidelined. Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head, Hamm, Rex, and Slinky are literally boxed up and shelved in the garage for most of the movie. I missed those guys. They’re some of the most entertaining characters in the entire franchise, yet instead we’re spending time with Smarty Pants and his potty-training adventures.

Even Woody’s return feels unnecessary. His character contributes very little to the actual plot, and bringing him back somewhat undermines the ending of Toy Story 4. Watching him and Buzz bicker over something as trivial as the deputy title isn’t particularly funny either. It feels like a rehash of conflicts the franchise already resolved several films ago. At this point, these two should be beyond arguing over who gets the shiny badge.

Comedy-wise, I never got the big belly laughs that previous entries delivered. There were a few chuckles and occasional giggles, and a random Bambi joke amused me far more than it probably should have, but that’s about it.

The animation, however, is phenomenal. That’s hardly surprising coming from Pixar, but there were moments where I became distracted by how absurdly detailed everything looked. At one point the toys were simply lying on the grass, and I found myself staring at individual blades thinking, “That grass is animated.” It’s genuinely mind-blowing how far the technology has come.

As a whole, Toy Story 5 feels like the first entry in the franchise that’s genuinely losing some of its magic and identity. The animation has never looked better, but the stories are starting to feel less fresh, and the uniqueness that defined the original trilogy — and, to an extent, the fourth film — is beginning to fade away.

I suppose Disney is going to keep doing what Disney does and fully embrace the cash-grab era.

Anyway, see you all for Toy Story 10.

Overall score: 4/10

Disclosure Day (2026) review

So, I hereby disclose… this movie sucks.

Plot: A cybersecurity expert becomes a whistleblower to reveal secrets about aliens, putting him on the run from a corporation, while a meteorologist experiences strange phenomena and joins forces with him to prove there’s life beyond our understanding.

I wanted to give this a couple of days after watching it to let it sink in and see whether my opinion might improve with time, or if my initial instincts were correct. This is, after all, a Steven Spielberg film. The man has given us classics ranging from Jaws and Indiana Jones to Jurassic Park and Schindler’s List. With a filmography like that, he’s more than earned the benefit of the doubt.

Unfortunately, Disclosure Day feels like a showcase of a filmmaker who may have lost touch with what once came naturally. The film is so bland, basic, and hollow that I’m genuinely shocked it came from Spielberg. Yes, it attempts to explore ideas of faith and presents the notion that empathy is the key to humanity’s evolution, but these themes are touched upon so lightly that they barely register.

The actual disclosure itself is painfully underwhelming, both narratively and logistically. The way people react to the revelation simply doesn’t resemble how I imagine modern society would respond. Call me cynical, but if I saw aliens being revealed on TV tomorrow, I’d probably assume it was AI-generated, a deepfake, or just another thing to briefly doomscroll past before worrying about whether my bills had been paid. Wow. I really am a cynic.

And from a storytelling perspective, the disclosure reveals sweet FA. The final line of the film somehow manages to make the previous two-and-a-half hours feel completely pointless.

As for the cast, Emily Blunt is generally terrific and may even be delivering a career-best performance. In particular, during the scenes where she reads people’s minds, her line delivery is so gentle and compassionate that it creates a tone I’ve never quite heard from her before. I was genuinely mesmerised.

The rest of the cast leaves considerably less of an impression. Josh O’Connor spends the entire film being hunted by government agents while repeatedly declaring his intention to reveal the truth to all eight billion people on Earth, yet it takes him half the movie to tell his own girlfriend what’s going on. That’s more of a character problem than an acting one, but this may also be the blandest and most emotionally flat performance I’ve seen from O’Connor.

Colman Domingo exists almost entirely to deliver exposition. Colin Firth, bless him, is trying desperately to wring some dramatic weight out of a painfully one-note villain, but without any meaningful backstory or development—other than, if I remember correctly, something about his wife dying—there’s simply nothing there. To be honest, I think I’d mentally checked out by that point. Either way, the villain is every bit as bland as the rest of the film.

And Wyatt Russell? Well, he seems to be there largely for the vibes. His bickering with Blunt was enjoyable enough, so no complaints there.

The screenplay comes from David Koepp, a writer who’s done plenty of good work in the past. However, he’s also the man who directed Mortdecai (2015), so perhaps none of this should come as a surprise. From the cringe-inducing dialogue to its complete lack of awareness of modern society, the writing repeatedly misses the mark. The plot itself amounts to roughly 90% “agents chase the good guys” and 10% the inevitable Disclosure Day, which, as already mentioned, is a massive letdown.

As for Spielberg’s direction, there are some decent moments scattered throughout (a certain train sequence was pure old-school Spielberg magic), but he occasionally feels like a parody of himself. The lens flare becomes so excessive that I spent large portions of the film feeling like I’d accidentally wandered into the Sun. Oh, and don’t get me started on the terribly CGI’d animals. How difficult is it to animate a fox?

I know it sounds like I’m absolutely tearing this film apart, but when a two-and-a-half-hour movie delivers a boring journey and an ending that feels like complete nonsense, I think it’s only fair for me to disclose that I really did not care for this one.

Overall score: 3/10

2026 Film Catch-Up #1: Pepsi, Putin, Prosecutors, and the King of Pop

I go out of my way to see as many films as possible in the cinema because, frankly, it's how films are meant to be experienced. Unfortunately, there's this annoying thing called life that tends to get in the way, meaning I inevitably miss a few releases—whether due to time constraints or simply because they never show anywhere near me.

Thankfully, streaming exists. The downside is that these films tend to pile up, and by the time I get around to watching them, I rarely have the motivation to write full reviews for every single one. So, without further ado, here are a few films I've recently caught up with and what I thought of them.

EXIT 8

I too would have enjoyed my playthrough of Exit 8 a lot less if I had asthma. Seriously, the guy having an asthma attack got really annoying after a while... no offence to actual asthma sufferers, who I'm sure are much less repetitive in real life.

Anyway, this was a surprisingly fun adaptation of the indie game of the same name. They absolutely nailed the visual look and atmosphere of the original, and half the fun was trying to spot the anomalies before the characters did. Unfortunately, some of the anomalies were about as subtle as a marching band in a library, yet the main character would still stand there staring at them for what felt like an eternity, seemingly waiting for the anomaly to finish its performance before deciding to turn around.

Still, for a film based on a game that mostly consists of walking down the same corridor over and over again, this works remarkably well. As video game adaptations go, Exit 8 is definitely one of the better ones.

6/10

OVER YOUR DEAD BODY

How many terrible husbands can Samara Weaving survive? Between this and the Ready or Not films, her luck is running pretty thin.

Unfortunately, what's even thinner is this husband-plans-to-kill-wife comedy thriller, which feels painfully generic from start to finish. It also attempts to make a joke out of rape because, apparently, that's comedy now.

4/10

THE PRESIDENT'S CAKE

Forget the actual horrors depicted in the film—the girl very clearly says "Pepsi," yet the subtitles still have the audacity to translate it as "Coca-Cola."

Jokes aside, this is a wonderful little film. Iraq's submission for the Academy Award for Best International Feature Film last year (which only received its wider theatrical rollout in 2026), it explores life in 1990s Iraq under Saddam Hussein through the eyes of a young girl and her rooster, who are tasked with baking a cake for Saddam's birthday.

It's a familiar setup—the innocent child's perspective on a harsh reality—but it's executed with remarkable warmth and sensitivity. The cinematography is beautiful, the young lead delivers an astonishing performance for her age, and while the film occasionally veers into preachiness and contains elements that feel tailored towards Western audiences, it's still a genuinely special piece of cinema.

7/10

GOAT

Sony Pictures Animation has been on an incredible run lately between the Spider-Verse films and the acclaimed K-Pop Demon Hunters (which I'm still shocked is getting a Criterion release, by the way). Unsurprisingly, the animation in GOAT is, well... the GOAT.

The problem is that I couldn't bring myself to care about anything else. I'm not particularly interested in basketball, and the story never gave me a reason to become invested.

4/10

THE GOLDEN KEY: A NEW PINOCCHIO STORY (BURATINO)

Much like Disney, modern Russian cinema seems determined to remake every beloved classic it can get its hands on. Once again, it's a reminder that some originals are essentially untouchable.

I grew up with The Adventures of Buratino, the wonderfully bizarre Soviet take on Pinocchio, and it remains an absolute fever dream of a musical: charming, weird, inventive, and endlessly memorable. Everything this remake is desperately trying to be.

To be fair, The Golden Key isn't bad. There's genuine affection for the source material, and hearing Aleksey Rybnikov's iconic songs again provides a welcome dose of nostalgia, even if they're sometimes awkwardly inserted into the narrative. The cast is stacked too, with Fyodor Bondarchuk, Svetlana Nemolyaeva, Alexander Petrov, and Anora breakout Mark Eydelshteyn lending the project a level of prestige and budget the original never possessed.

But that's also part of the problem. For all its technical polish, the film lacks the innocence, warmth, and scrappy creativity that made the 1976 version so beloved. It's constantly chasing the spirit of the original without ever quite capturing it.

In the end, the rough edges of Soviet cinema turn out to be its greatest strength—something no glossy remake can truly recreate.

5/10

THE WIZARD OF THE KREMLIN

Tackling a controversial real-life figure is never easy, so regardless of my own views, I respect Olivier Assayas for attempting to provide a glimpse behind the Kremlin walls. Unfortunately, the end result is ultimately rather underwhelming.

One of the film's recurring choices is to frame Vladimir Putin as a modern-day "Tsar." I understand the metaphor—it's intended to highlight his concentration of power—but it feels oddly simplistic. Putin was born and raised in the Soviet Union and later served in the KGB and FSB, institutions rooted in a political system that explicitly rejected monarchy. Given those ideological origins, the repeated Tsar comparisons often feel more convenient than insightful.

Speaking of simplistic portrayals, the film also depicts Putin as uncomfortable with public speaking. Whatever one's opinion of him, it's difficult to deny that he spent decades cultivating an image as a disciplined and effective communicator. Depicting him as someone seemingly afraid of addressing an audience feels detached from reality.

As for Jude Law's performance, it's a disappointment. Physically, he never really resembles Putin, even beneath the unconvincing hairpiece. I therefore hoped he might compensate by capturing Putin's mannerisms, cadence, or presence. Instead, it mostly feels like Jude Law playing Jude Law.

The supporting performances range from solid to wildly inconsistent, particularly regarding accents. I'm not suggesting that every actor in a Russian-set film must speak Russian or adopt a Russian accent, but at least settle on a consistent approach. Instead, some characters speak with thick Russian accents while others—Paul Dano, for example—sound unmistakably English.

Narratively, the film rarely ventures beyond information readily available on Wikipedia. There's little meaningful character study, and Putin is portrayed so cautiously that he barely registers as a character at all. He isn't presented as sympathetic or villainous—he simply exists. The film seems so determined not to take a position that it ultimately says very little.

Instead, we're left with Paul Dano's dull and largely pointless romance subplot with Alicia Vikander, which goes nowhere and feels like an unnecessary detour.

Also, Putin never appears shirtless while riding a bear.

Disappointing.

5/10

TWO PROSECUTORS

While everyone else was contemplating justice, state power, and authoritarianism, I spent a concerning amount of time distracted by the lead actor's nose.

On a more serious note, Sergei Loznitsa's brutal examination of life during the Stalin era is a chilling reminder of how authoritarian systems operate, both institutionally and on an individual level. This is an extremely slow-paced film, but also a beautifully crafted one. Long stretches consist entirely of conversations, with some dialogue scenes running close to twenty minutes, yet they remain utterly engrossing.

Those extended exchanges pull you deep into the psychology of people consumed by ideology and bureaucracy. It's fascinating material. While I do think the protagonist occasionally comes across as a little too gullible to be fully believable, I was nevertheless deeply impressed by what Loznitsa achieves here.

6/10

MICHAEL

It’s interesting that ever since Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story was released, musical biopics have become almost impossible to take completely seriously. No matter how earnest they are, I can never stop hearing the line, “Dewey Cox has to think about his entire life before he plays,” in the back of my mind whenever one begins.

Michael, however, largely sidesteps the traditional biopic structure by playing more like a greatest-hits visual album. We watch Michael Jackson’s nephew, Jaafar Jackson—who delivers an astonishingly accurate recreation of his uncle’s voice, mannerisms, and dance moves—moonwalk from one iconic performance and music video to the next. The closest thing the film has to a substantial narrative is Jackson’s troubled relationship with his father, though even that functions more as a recurring thread than a fully developed storyline.

Unsurprisingly, there is no mention of the allegations against Michael Jackson or the events explored in Finding Neverland. As a co-production with the Jackson Estate, the film is designed as a celebration rather than an examination of its subject. As a result, Michael feels less like a biography and more like a tribute concert stretched to feature length.

The songs remain fantastic, and Jaafar Jackson is genuinely superb. Beyond that, however, there isn’t much substance beneath the spectacle.

5/10

Spider-Noir (2026) review

For decades, fans have wondered what Nicolas Cage would have looked like as Superman. As it turns out, the answer was apparently: a depressed Spider-Man detective in black and white.

Plot: Ben Reilly, a seasoned but down-on-his-luck private investigator in 1930s New York, is forced to confront his past following a deeply personal tragedy, all while serving as the city's one and only superhero.

72 awards. Over 140 film credits. Thousands of memes. Countless "Rage Cage" moments. One of Hollywood's greatest "what if?" stories after being cast as the Man of Steel in Tim Burton's cancelled Superman Lives. All of it has led the one and only Nicolas Cage to this moment: Spider-Noir.

Most audiences know Spider-Man through the endlessly popular portrayals of Peter Parker (and, more recently, Miles Morales). However, it was 2018's animated masterpiece Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse that introduced mainstream viewers to an entire multiverse of bizarre, niche, and wildly creative interpretations of the web-slinger. Arguably the most memorable of them all was Spider-Noir, the black-and-white detective from the 1930s, voiced with scene-stealing brilliance by Nicolas Cage.

So when Amazon MGM Studios announced a live-action Spider-Noir series with Cage returning to the role, the reaction was understandably mixed. How would this work? Why this character? Could a niche animated fan-favourite really sustain an entire television series?

I'm delighted to report that the answer is a resounding yes.

Spider-Noir is an absolute blast. It's a loving tribute to classic noir cinema, packed with hard-boiled detectives, femme fatales, gangsters, and smoky backroom conspiracies. Better yet, it introduces a new generation of viewers to the visual and storytelling brilliance of classic American noir. The series is even available in two versions: a vibrant colour presentation and an authentic black-and-white cut.

For the first two episodes, I sampled both versions—one in colour and one in black and white—to appreciate each approach. After that, I committed fully to black and white in the name of NOIR! Honestly, it's the way this show was meant to be watched. The monochrome presentation perfectly complements the atmosphere and makes the entire experience feel like a lost detective serial from Hollywood's golden age.

Nicolas Cage is genuinely fantastic. Channelling shades of Humphrey Bogart and James Cagney, he delivers a wonderfully rough-around-the-edges detective who fires off effortlessly cool one-liners while still sprinkling in just enough trademark Cage eccentricity to make Ben Reilly uniquely his own. What could have easily remained a novelty spin-off instead becomes a surprisingly compelling character study, thanks largely to Cage's committed performance.

The supporting cast is excellent across the board. Lamorne Morris and Karen Rodriguez bring plenty of charm and chemistry as Ben's trusted allies, providing some genuinely fun workplace banter amidst the darkness. Jack Huston, Abraham Popoola, and especially Joe Massingill offer fresh takes on familiar Spider-Man villains, giving them distinctive new identities within this noir setting. Li Jun Li is superb as the classic femme fatale, effortlessly commanding every scene she enters.

However, the standout alongside Cage is Brendan Gleeson as crime boss Silvermane. Gleeson has spent decades playing memorable Irish characters, but I genuinely don't think he's ever been more Irish than he is here. His Silvermane is intimidating, calculating, and ruthless, yet unexpectedly hilarious when trading barbs with Cage. Their chemistry is electric, and every scene they share quickly becomes must-watch television. Watching these two veteran actors bounce off one another is arguably the show's greatest strength.

Spider-Noir is nothing short of superb and easily ranks among the best comic-book television projects of recent years. Within the wider landscape of Sony's live-action Spider-Man-related projects, it's particularly significant because it finally puts an actual spider-powered hero front and centre while delivering the dark humour, style, and emotional weight fans have been craving. It's stylish, cool, genre-bending, and above all else, ridiculously entertaining.

Also, is it just me, or is Amazon MGM absolutely crushing it in 2026? Project Hail Mary, The Sheep Detectives, Masters of the Universe, and now Spider-Noir. Look, I don't particularly enjoy the idea of putting even more money into Jeff Bezos' pockets, but when it comes to entertainment, we're eating very well this year.

Overall score: 9/10

Masters of the Universe (2026) review

Brian May fisted his guitar so awesomely it almost felt inappropriate.

Plot: After being separated for 15 years, the Sword of Power leads Prince Adam back to Eternia, where he discovers his home shattered under the fiendish rule of Skeletor. To save his family and his world, Adam must join forces with his closest allies, Teela and Duncan/Man-At-Arms, and embrace his true destiny as He-Man — the most powerful man in the universe.

I am very much a stranger to the world of Masters of the Universe. My knowledge begins and ends with that online GIF of a strange-looking blonde hunk in a pink shirt dramatically proclaiming, “I HAVE THE POWER!” Fortunately, homework isn't really required here. And that's probably for the best, because this latest adaptation of a Mattel property — arriving in the wake of Barbie's enormous success a few years ago — is a very silly, very uneven, but undeniably fun summer blockbuster that doesn't ask much of its audience beyond showing up and enjoying the ride.

Taking heavy inspiration from Marvel's more comedic sci-fi outings, particularly Guardians of the Galaxy and Thor: Ragnarok, Masters of the Universe drops us into the colourful, vibrant world of Eternia, where larger-than-life cartoon characters (appropriately enough) settle their differences through good old-fashioned battles between good and evil. There's no deep underlying message here. The story is as basic as they come, the characters are mostly one-note and underwritten, the humour misses more often than it lands, and the visual effects fluctuate wildly between impressive spectacle and distractingly rough CGI. The Earth-set section also feels unnecessary, slowing the momentum whenever the film cuts away from Eternia.

And yet... I had a good time.

Maybe I caught it on the right day. Maybe I was simply willing to leave my critic brain at the door. Whatever the reason, I found myself oddly charmed by the film's self-aware, unapologetically goofy tone. It's hard to stay mad at a movie that's having this much fun with itself.

By the way, we need to talk about the music.

The score comes from Daniel Pemberton, one of the most consistently exciting composers working today. If you haven't listened to his work on Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse or King Arthur: Legend of the Sword, you're seriously missing out. Here, he delivers a gloriously epic orchestral score drenched in 1980s energy and heroic bombast.

And then there's Brian freaking May.

Yes, that Brian May.

The man shows up and absolutely unleashes on his guitar. Not just a little flourish here and there — he is shredding with the enthusiasm of someone who's been told this is his one chance to soundtrack a cosmic sword-and-sorcery adventure. Every time his guitar kicks in, the film gains about 30% more power. It's ridiculous. It's excessive. It's awesome.

The action is also surprisingly solid. The fight choreography is energetic, easy to follow, and generally a lot of fun to watch. I spent most of the runtime happily watching He-Man pulverise wave after wave of bad guys. The man really does have the power.

And as many critics have already noted, Jared Leto delivers the performance of his life as Skeletor. What makes the character work is his complete lack of complexity. There are no hidden motivations or tragic backstories here. Skeletor is literally a man (I think?) with a skull for a head who wants to do evil things because he's evil. That's it. He cackles, he monologues, he chews scenery by the truckload, and Leto commits to every ridiculous second of it. The performance works because he fully embraces how absurd the character is rather than trying to make him seem grounded or realistic.

Oddly enough, the most significant thing Masters of the Universe accomplished was making me even more excited for Amazon's upcoming Highlander remake starring Henry Cavill and Dave Bautista. Partly because this movie uses Queen's "Princes of the Universe" to spectacular effect, but mostly because it reminded me how much I enjoy watching impossibly powerful, larger-than-life warriors swing giant swords around while epic rock music blares in the background.

Is Masters of the Universe a great movie? Not remotely.

Is it dumb? Absolutely.

Did I have fun? By the power of Grayskull, yes.

Overall score: 6/10

Power Ballad (2026) review

So he does age after all!

Plot: When Rick, a past-his-prime wedding singer, meets fading boy-band star Danny during a gig, the two bond over music during a late-night jam session. But when Danny turns one of Rick’s songs into the hit that reignites his career, Rick sets out to reclaim the recognition he believes he deserves — even if it means risking everything he cares about.

Paul Rudd is one of those actors I'd happily watch in anything. He has endless charm, impeccable comedic timing, and an effortlessly likeable screen presence. Whether or not you enjoy Power Ballad will largely depend on how much you like Rudd, because despite sharing top billing in the marketing with Nick Jonas, Jonas isn't actually in the film all that much.

It's also refreshing to see Rudd play his age for once. He's one of those celebrities who seems to exist under the strange illusion of never physically aging, looking much the same now as he did twenty years ago. Here, however, he plays a washed-up musician, longtime husband and father, and a man whose best days appear to be behind him. Whether it's the haircut, the weary demeanour, or simply the performance itself, this is one of the few times where you genuinely feel like you're watching a man in his fifties. Rudd fully commits to that while still retaining the charm and tongue-in-cheek wit that make him so enjoyable to watch.

As for the rest of the film, it's fine.

John Carney has made much stronger films before, particularly Begin Again and Sing Street. Even his trademark musical focus feels weaker here. The handful of original songs rely heavily on auto-tune, and the central track that drives the conflict between Rudd and Jonas is presented as this huge, career-reviving smash hit. The problem is that the song itself is incredibly mediocre, making it difficult to buy into the stakes.

I also found myself heavily disliking Rick's family. For most of the film they refuse to believe him, and his daughter in particular seems to have almost no respect for her father. Considering the film repeatedly frames Rick as someone who sacrificed his musical ambitions for the sake of his family, you start to wonder whether it was really worth it when they're so unsupportive of him throughout.

The ending was another disappointment. Rick's mission to confront Danny over stealing his song ultimately feels anti-climactic and lacks any real payoff. What should have been the emotional and dramatic culmination of the story with a impactful commentary on plagiarism instead amounts to a lot of build-up for very little reward.

That said, the film isn't without its charms. The early scenes of Rudd and Jonas simply hanging out, drinking, chatting, playing guitar, and writing music together are genuinely delightful. The two share great chemistry, and those moments capture an easy, authentic warmth that the rest of the film struggles to maintain. It's a shame the rest of Power Ballad couldn’t sustain that energy.

Overall score: 5/10

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Finding Emily (2026) review

Curry Barker's Obsession made me swear off love. Finding Emily brought me right back with its irresistible British rom-com charm.

Plot: When a lovesick musician is given the wrong number for his dream girl, he teams up with a driven psychology student to find her. Together, they spark a hilarious campus-wide frenzy that tests their hearts and ambitions along the way.

Since when does Manchester look so pretty? No shade to British cities, but they're often portrayed as grey and lifeless, while it's usually the countryside where the UK really shines. Yet Finding Emily bathes Manchester in vibrant colours, endless sunshine, and streets bursting with character. Forget looking for Emily — she's probably in Paris anyway. This film should be called Finding Manchester.

As for the film itself, this is a delightful rom-com that understands the importance of both the ROM and the COM. It's genuinely funny, drawing laughs from the characters' natural charm, their distinctly British awkwardness, and some sharp satire aimed at social media and modern campus culture. One of the film's funniest running gags is the public reaction to the protagonist's search for Emily. Initially, he's branded a creep and potential harasser after emailing every Emily he can find. Then, the moment he pulls out a guitar and performs an original love song, the internet instantly rebrands him as adorable — "like Ed Sheeran on Crimewatch." It's a light-touch but effective send-up of social media pile-ons and the speed at which public opinion swings from one extreme to another.

The romantic chemistry between the leads is equally strong and never feels forced. Is this a predictable story where you can see the destination from a mile away? Absolutely. But the journey is so charming that it hardly matters. Even when characters make questionable or self-sabotaging decisions, you understand why they're doing it and find yourself rooting for them regardless.

The film also does a good job of walking a difficult line with its protagonist. On paper, his determination to track down a girl he's barely met could easily come across as creepy. Yet his intentions are so sincere, and he's so painfully aware of how his actions might be perceived, that the film mines plenty of humour from his increasingly desperate attempts not to make things worse — while inevitably making them worse anyway.

Spike Fearn is excellent as the awkwardly endearing everyman at the centre of the story. He's instantly likeable, and I can easily see Gen Z audiences falling for his scruffy charm. Angourie Rice — who I suspected was destined for bigger things after her scene-stealing debut in The Nice Guys — is a perfect foil. Her character is torn between pursuing her dissertation and recognising that she's taking advantage of a genuinely decent guy. Yet thanks to Rice's warmth, eccentricity, and charisma, she's impossible to dislike. Distractingly, Owen bears an uncanny resemblance to a young Liam Gallagher, while at certain angles Rice looks remarkably like Taylor Swift. Whenever they're sharing the screen together, the effect can be oddly surreal.

Oh, and the soundtrack kind of rules. It's a fantastic mix of classic indie tracks, electronic anthems, and pop hits, with George Michael receiving some particularly welcome love.

Finding Emily feels like a love letter to the Richard Curtis school of romantic comedy (seriously, what happened to that guy?). It shares the same warmth, heart, and unabashed sentimentality, along with an abundance of cheesiness that some viewers may find cringe-inducing. But it's also almost impossible to hate.

Overall score: 8/10

Backrooms (2026) review

“And there upon a rainbow Is the answer to the neverending Backrooms Aaaaaaah…”

Plot: After a therapist’s patient disappears into a dimension beyond reality, she ventures into the unknown to save him.

It seems YouTubers really are the future of Hollywood. In recent years we’ve seen YouTube film critic Chris Stuckmann transition to the big screen with his Kickstarter-funded horror film Shelby Oaks; the Philippou Brothers successfully delivered two horror smash hits for A24 with Talk to Me and Bring Her Back; Mark Fischbach (better known online as Markiplier) self-financed the feature adaptation of the video game Iron Lung to major commercial success; and Curry Barker delivered what is, so far, 2026’s best film with the thriller Obsession — a sub-$1 million indie that has somehow gone on to gross over $100 million worldwide while even pulling off the rare feat of a second-weekend box office increase.

Now Kane Parsons becomes the youngest director yet to helm a film for A24 with Backrooms, a feature adaptation of his viral, meme-inspired YouTube series about an endless maze of eerie yellow rooms. Safe to say, if you’re an aspiring filmmaker these days, you might need to embrace that YouTube lifestyle, friendo.

I’d been vaguely aware of Backrooms for a while but had never actually watched any of it until a couple of days ago, when I checked out Parsons’ original 2022 short that started it all. That nine-minute video honestly plays like a visual adaptation of Talking Heads’ “Once in a Lifetime”, especially the lyrics: “And you may tell yourself, ‘This is not my beautiful house’ / ‘This is not my beautiful wife.’” Maybe I’m the only one who made that connection, but still, I admired Parsons’ ability to make such a simple concept — wandering through lonely, slightly disorientating rooms while being stalked by some strange stick-like entity — feel genuinely unnerving. It’s the classic “less is more” approach to horror.

Still, I wondered how this concept could sustain a feature-length runtime. Nine minutes of wandering through uncanny corridors? Creepy. Ninety minutes? Surely that risks becoming repetitive and losing its impact.

Oddly enough, the endless wandering ends up being the film’s greatest strength.

Human beings have a primal fear of the unknown — of spaces and phenomena we cannot fully understand or comprehend. The sequences where characters explore the infinite corridors and rooms of the Backrooms feel like the movie at its most alive, despite being set within literal nothingness. It’s like a deeply cursed, otherworldly version of Narnia.

The Backrooms themselves reminded me heavily of “The Zone” from Andrei Tarkovsky’s 1979 film Stalker: a restricted, alien landscape where reality itself feels unstable and unknowable. Backrooms follows a similar philosophical formula at first. You could also see similarities to Tarkovsky’s other science fiction melancholy piece Solaris (1972), in like similar to the Solaris planet, Backrooms seem to operate as a kind of echo-space for memories; it’s why many places in the Backrooms look familiar but are imperfect, as our memories can’t contain the full snapshot of the places or people we’ve seen. However, where Tarkovsky wisely refuses to explain The Zone or Solaris, leaving its mysteries entirely to the audience’s imagination, Parsons eventually feels compelled to provide concrete answers about what the Backrooms actually are.

And that’s where the film begins to collapse.

By explaining too much and cornering the narrative into literal exposition, the movie gradually strips away its own horror. Some things are simply more terrifying when left unexplained. The first half is genuinely tense and suspenseful as we descend deeper into the increasingly bizarre levels of the Backrooms, but the second half devolves into characters being chased by a heavily CGI-rendered creature that looks less horrifying than outright silly. Instead of escalating the fear, the film accidentally deflates it.

To the movie’s credit, the final shot before the credits briefly recaptures that original “what the hell am I looking at?” atmosphere that made the opening so effective. Unfortunately, by that point, the magic has already been thoroughly demystified.

Now, this review is coming from someone who isn’t deeply immersed in the lore or mythology built around the original web series, but it does feel like A24 perhaps pushed Parsons toward providing more conventional explanations so the film could appeal to both hardcore fans and casual audiences alike. In trying to make the concept more mainstream and accessible, the film loses the very edge that made it compelling in the first place.

The strongest aspect of Backrooms is undoubtedly its visual craft. The production design creates wonderfully disorientating spaces filled with oppressive yellows and uncanny geometry, while the cinematography frequently employs symmetrical framing to maximise the unsettling atmosphere. The found-footage-inspired sequences in particular are incredibly effective, and honestly, I wish the film had leaned even harder into that style.

But for all its visual strengths, the story ultimately falls apart. Even early on, the characters feel frustratingly underwritten, giving talented actors like Chiwetel Ejiofor and Renate Reinsve very little to actually work with. And again, that CGI creature in the climax completely destroys the carefully cultivated mystery and unease the film spends so long building.

Backrooms works best when it embraces ambiguity, atmosphere, and the terror of empty spaces. The more it tries to explain itself, the less frightening it becomes. Heck, at least my walk back to my car through the multi-storey car park was freaky as hell after the movie!

Overall score: 4/10

Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu (2026) review

Before the film started, Disney employees personally came into the cinema to check whether everyone had completed all three seasons and the required spin-off homework.

Plot: The evil Empire has fallen, and Imperial warlords remain scattered throughout the galaxy. As the fledgling New Republic works to protect everything the Rebellion fought for, they have enlisted the help of legendary Mandalorian bounty hunter Din Djarin and his young apprentice Grogu.

If you go into this expecting a grand-scale Star Wars event film that expands the mythology of the Skywalker saga, you’ll probably leave disappointed. This is a surprisingly small-scale story that does little to evolve the wider universe and instead feels entirely designed for fans of The Mandalorian Disney+ series.

And I really do mean entirely. The film barely even attempts to introduce or re-establish its characters, relationships, or lore for newcomers. If you haven’t watched the show beforehand, you’ll probably spend the first act wondering why everyone in the cinema is emotionally attached to a tiny green gremlin and a man who refuses to remove his helmet. So set your expectations accordingly: this isn’t really a Star Wars movie so much as The Mandalorian: Season 4 with a theatrical budget.

PROS:

* Ludwig Göransson’s score absolutely rules. Blending his iconic Mandalorian themes with gritty synths, pounding drums, and techno-inspired flourishes gives the film a unique energy that separates it from the traditional John Williams-style sound.

* Pedro Pascal remains effortlessly cool as Mando. As the proud owner of a full Hasbro Mandalorian helmet sitting in my film merch collection at home, I can confirm the character aura still works on me.

* Grogu continues to be charming, especially during a bizarrely peaceful swamp sequence where he’s basically just vibing. The puppetry throughout the film feels wonderfully tactile too, very reminiscent of classic Jim Henson creature work.

* The film is packed with weird aliens, monsters, and creatures, which helps the galaxy feel far more alive than a lot of recent Star Wars projects.

* Oddly enough, some of the smaller worldbuilding details fascinated me the most. One planet treats salt as an incredibly rare and priceless resource worth fighting wars over, while to Mando — someone constantly travelling the galaxy — it’s basically the equivalent of grabbing table salt from Tesco. Little details like that genuinely made the universe feel bigger.

*One sequence in particular genuinely made me feel like I was watching Thor: Ragnarok. The gladiator arena fight between Mando and the Hutt starts off almost beat-for-beat like the Thor vs Hulk “he’s a friend from work!” scene — right down to the big crowd spectacle and the “oh no, our hero has accidentally entered a death match” energy — except stripped of all the neon colour, absurdity, and Taika Waititi funk that made Ragnarok so memorable in the first place. Thankfully, the sequence eventually goes in a far weirder direction and ends with a wonderfully chaotic payoff that feels closer to the monster-release madness of The Cabin in the Woods, which at least helps it carve out its own identity by the end.

CONS:

* The action is weirdly lacklustre. There’s an overreliance on shaky cam and rapid cuts that often feel like they’re disguising the lack of proper choreography or stunt work. Granted, I’ve been watching a lot of martial arts and wuxia films lately, so maybe I’m spoiled by people flying through bamboo forests while sword fighting, but even by normal blockbuster standards the combat here lacks impact.

* Sigourney Weaver feels shockingly bland as the leader of a New Republic squadron. This is the same woman who gave us Ripley in Alien, one of cinema’s greatest badass protagonists, yet here she feels strangely wooden and completely devoid of charisma.

* Martin Scorsese showing up in a cameo after years of criticising “theme park cinema” is extremely funny. Does this officially make The Mandalorian & Grogu “absolute cinema” now?

* The narrative is incredibly repetitive: go to Planet A, fight some bad guys, travel to Planet B, fight more bad guys, repeat until credits.

* Worst of all, the film feels disposable. Like an expensive filler episode that changes almost nothing. Mando and Grogu end the movie in virtually the exact same place they started, which makes the whole thing come across less like a meaningful continuation and more like Disney trying to shift another mountain of Baby Yoda merchandise.

Overall, I still found enjoyment here — but that’s coming from someone who genuinely loves the original series and may or may not have worn his Mandalorian helmet around the house for an embarrassingly long amount of time. This is very much a film made for existing fans already invested in these characters. Harmless.

But if you’re a Star Wars fan hoping the first theatrically released film in seven years will reignite that old galactic magic and make you feel the way the saga once did… this probably isn’t the one.

This is the way… kind of.

Overall score: 6/10

Mario Bava’s Danger: Diabolik shares many similarities with Fantômas and its sequels by André Hunebelle: a masked criminal armed with fantas

“One of the greatest displays of heterosexuality ever committed to film.”

My review of DANGER: DIABOLIK on Letterboxd.

Obsession (2026) review

After the movie, I went back home where my wife greeted me with a cheerful “I love you, baby,” and I’m not gonna lie, I nearly turned around and walked straight back out the door.

Plot: After breaking the mysterious "One Wish Willow" to win his crush's heart, a hopeless romantic finds himself getting exactly what he asked for but soon discovers that some desires come at a dark, sinister price.

What Obsession essentially delivers is a feature-length horror reimagining of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode in which a botched love spell causes every woman in Sunnydale to fall obsessively in love with Xander, turning his life into a chaotic nightmare. Curry Barker takes that basic premise and twists it into one of the most disturbing and deeply uncomfortable horror films in recent memory — which is honestly impressive considering the original Buffy episode still mostly plays like a sitcom with a body count.

I’m not someone who scares easily, which is partly why horror has never been a genre I naturally gravitate towards. Yet Obsession genuinely unnerved me. What Barker accomplishes here is impressive precisely because he relies on such simple filmmaking techniques. Whether it’s the use of looming shadows and silhouettes — reflecting the protagonist’s fixation on the person he truly wanted to be with, but is no longer there — or the subtle rewinding of footage to make the “girlfriend” move in an unnatural, uncanny way, the film proves that the most effective horror often comes from restraint rather than excess. Turns out you do not need twenty gallons of CGI blood when somebody smiling too long can already ruin your evening.

And yes, there are jump scares. Normally, I dislike jump scares because they tend to feel like cheap tricks designed purely to provoke an audience reaction. The trope has been overused to the point where most can be predicted well in advance - horror fans can practically sense them like Spider-Man’s danger instinct at this point. However, Obsession contains one involving a car — that’s all I’ll say to avoid spoilers — which I saw coming a mile away, yet it still made me jump. That moment works because the film has already built such an oppressive atmosphere of dread that even the predictable becomes effective.

What makes the movie so unsettling is the constant sense that something is deeply wrong, a feeling that only intensifies as the situation spirals further out of control. One moment in particular keeps coming back to me: a scene where the possessed girl simply stands there, smiling unnaturally at the camera while the shot lingers uncomfortably long without cutting away. It immediately reminded me of the final scene of Pearl, where Mia Goth grins and cries directly into the camera during the credits. You almost don’t know whether to laugh, recoil, or look away — which, to be fair, is also my reaction whenever someone makes direct eye contact with me on public transport for too long. That lingering discomfort is exactly what makes Obsession so effective.

We also need to talk about Inde Navarrette as the possessed girl, because this is a genuine star-making performance. She initially carries the familiar “girl next door” charm, but the film constantly subverts that image by pushing her into moments of complete instability and madness. One moment she appears calm and composed; the next she is screaming, sobbing, or contorting her face into something genuinely unsettling.

I’ve already mentioned the unnatural way she moves, along with the lingering glances and disturbingly soft tone of voice, but it’s Navarrette’s absolute commitment to the role that elevates those moments from simply creepy to genuinely terrifying. Curry Barker deserves enormous credit for what he accomplishes behind the camera, yet Obsession ultimately works because Navarrette fully throws herself into the horror of the character. Her performance is unpredictable, uncomfortable, and deeply unnerving — the kind of turn that lingers in your mind long after the film ends.

In conclusion, Obsession delivers on its simple premise by fully committing to the bit, and succeeds in my eyes as one of the most terrifying horror films in recent years, proving just how much can be done with so little. I mean, now I’m genuinely afraid of my wife professing her love to me. Before watching this movie, she’d say it multiple times a day and I never thought twice about it. Now every “I love you” is followed by the intrusive thought: “is she obsessed with me?” and, more importantly, “am I about to suffer the same fate as the poor soul in this film?” Horror that can take something as warm and ordinary as affection and twist it into a source of dread is doing something right. Gosh, relationships are tough, aren’t they?

And just to be absolutely clear, dear, if you happen to read this review: I love you very much, you are wonderful, and this paragraph was written entirely in the name of film criticism and definitely not out of fear for my own safety. Which, honestly, is probably the highest compliment I can give a horror film like Obsession.

Overall score: 8/10

Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie (2026) review

After all this time we finally got another Back to the Future movie!

Plot: When their plan to book a show at the Rivoli goes horribly wrong, Matt and Jay accidentally travel back to the year 2008.

I have never watched the original Nirvanna show, and as such went into this sorely basing my pre-judgement on the rave reviews from critics and Letterboxd users, as well as the knowledge of Matt Johnson’s BlackBerry movie, which was a decent retelling of how this signature phone model came about, and featured a bald Dennis Reynolds. What I must say having now watched NTBTSTM is that I don’t believe it is necessary to have any prior knowledge of the original show to enjoy this movie. In fact it is preferable that instead your prior homework involves rewatching Robert Zemeckis’ Back to the Future Trilogy, as this movie heavily pays homage to those science fiction films, and even riffs on some major plot points. In fact, seeing this as an unofficial spin-off/sequel to that trilogy wouldn’t be too farfetched, though I don’t believe Zemeckis would sign off on that officially.

Regardless, Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie is framed in the style of a mockumentary, where the cameras follow the musical duo Matt and Jay as they attempt to get booked to play at the Rivoli, and the shenanigans they come across during their journey. And the word “unhinged” is very much undermining the level of craziness this movie reaches, as the film’s opening sees the two main characters sky diving off the CN Tower onto the SkyDome during a Blue Jays game as a publicity stunt, which as expected doesn’t go to plan. From there we get into the time travelling madness and such, and throughout this so much silliness and buffoonery transpires, that the result is very very funny. Mind you the narrative around time travel is done really well, in particular where the film blends actual footage from 2008 of the Nirvanna show, as our modern day Matt and Jay go to the past and meet their younger selves, and it was really cool how the camera trickery and editing was done to blend the two together. There is also a wonderful sentimental emotional core with the friendship of Matt and Jay at the heart of everything, in particular through Jay wishing to move on from Matt and the Nirvanna group, and Matt still being stuck with his crazy lightbulb ideas.

But it all does come down to the comedy. There are so many excellent gags in this, from poking fun at the Will Smith/Chris Rock Oscars slap, to an unfunny joke from The Hangover that becomes the funniest thing ever here, to mispronouncing Barack Obama’s name as OBAMNA… it’s all hilarious, and though I do suggest setting your expectations a little lower following the highly overrated critical response, Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie is a great time at the movies, with plenty of “how did they do that??” moments. Think the time travel shin-digs of Back to the Future, featuring meta humour and “guerilla style” filmmaking of Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping, the indie creative DIY energy of Hundreds of Beavers, and the awkward delivery of Nathan For You. The result? Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie.

Overall score: 7/10

The Sheep Detectives (2026) review

Uh oh, allergen season is hitting pretty hard lately… 🥹🥹

Plot: George Hardy is a shepherd who reads detective novels to his beloved sheep every night, assuming they can't possibly understand. But when a mysterious incident disrupts life on the farm, the sheep realize they must become the detectives. As they follow the clues and investigate human suspects, they prove that even sheep can be brilliant crime-solvers.

I heard about this movie a couple years back when it was announced that Hugh Jackman was going to star in a movie where he reads murder mysteries to his flock of sheep, and then gets murdered himself and they investigate who the killer was. It was an insane synopsis, but one I was genuinely curious about. Now it has finally arrived and boy oh BOY are you guys not ready for Hooves Out!! Get it? It’s like Knives Out but I swapped the knives to hooves?… Because they are sheep?… They have hooves?… And they are solving a murder?… Nevermind.

The Sheep Detectives plays out as a truly wild and woolly whodunnit. Setting aside its fluffy main characters for the moment, the film does have a genuinely intriguing central mystery, and very much feels in vein of those Rian Johnson detective movies starring Benoit Blanc. You have your suspects, their motives and convenient alibis, and then you must figure out the killer based on the clues provided. I am proud to say that I guessed the killer pretty early on due to a minor detail (which I won’t spoil for obvious reasons), but I think the film does a solid job of keeping the killer options wide enough for you to keep guessing until the end. That being said, we all know what really is the selling point of this movie…

The sheep! Yes, the sheep are absolutely adorable in this, from the very well realised visual effects, to the distinct personalities of each sheep (or shoop if singular?), as the film utilises its all-star voice cast to their unique strengths perfectly. Julia Louis-Dreyfus and Chris o’Dowd as our two main sheep buds are delightful together, with Julia a determined and emotionally driven character who is motivated to stop at nothing to find the killer of her beloved Hugh. Chris O’Dowd is fairly dorky, but also had an emotional weight on his shoulders as the only sheep that is forced to remember all the bad memories, whilst all the other sheep are able to forget anything bad that happens to them. You have your comedic sheep to from the likes of Patrick Stewart, Rhys Darby and Brett Goldstein, with the latter in particular a stand out as these two rams, aptly named after the Kray twins Ronnie and Reggie, who just want to smash everything they see, with Brett having a lot of playful fun riffing on the lighter side of his Ted Lasso Roy Kent persona. But what really gets me is how, for all the goofy silliness and parodying of sheep traits, the film never shies away from tackling challenging subjects like death and grief, and utilising the sheep’s simple innocent mindsets in how they interest these serious subjects. The ending of this movie in particular goes to some really surprisingly somber and heart wrenching places, mainly through the development of Bryan Cranston’s Sebastian, a “winter-lamb” outsider who’s backstory and his place of belonging are the central core of this movie. Look, I am not embarrassed to admit that my heart was touched by a bunch of CGI sheep!!

The Sheep Detectives is the definition of a cosy movie. From its sunny green setting of an English countryside village, to the lovely blend of mystery, comedy, pathos and emotion all put together in a delightful package that is targeted at audiences of all ages, this film is utterly wonderful. Although don’t expect much Hugh Jackman for obvious reasons, yet you do on the other hand get a lot of fun from Emma Thompson’s elongated cameo, who once again proves she is one of our most reliable British actors. Honestly, I really loved this, right down to the movie finishing on The Proclaimers’ 500 Miles!

Overall score: 8/10

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