Mew Reviews

Trying to say something original about films. Probably failing.

[mewreviews]

I've recently returned to Tumblr after having taken a break for a while and found that you've stopped your reviews! I guess they were pretty time consuming but I just wanted to say that I loved the work you did and I'll miss seeing them now I'm back on here. I love your work and will miss you dearly!

Ahh thank you so much, this is so sweet :’)  Honestly I do miss writing them and with lockdown I was considering getting back to them ~~ but even if I don’t, feel free to drop me a message any time to talk movies!

[mewreviews]

The Fall has gotten me through a lot of tough times, but it can be a difficult film to watch and the trailer gives it all away.

Heey, I don’t run this blog anymore but thank you for the recommendation regardless! I checked it out briefly (didn’t watch the trailer, don’t worry) and it definitely looks like my kind of film; I’ll give it a watch. Thanks for suggesting it ^_^ 

[mewreviews]

Ma Review

“Welcome to Ma’s.”

When a group of teenagers manage to persuade an odd but seemingly well-intentioned women to buy them alcohol, events quickly turn from strange to terrifying.

Ma is Octavia Spencer’s movie. She is able to present a Sue Ann who can switch from harmless to threatening, lonely to deranged, slightly awkward to wholly psychotic. The sympathy you feel for her is generated solely from Spencer’s performance; while the backstory shown provides context, it is only through her portrayal of the character that you allow this to colour your perspective of her. Spencer elevates Ma from being just another cheesy Blumhouse flop to something that is, if still far from being a masterpiece, an enjoyable enough thriller in the moment.

The film itself is done a disservice by its trailer. Ma is definitely more thriller than horror, and while it does have some scares, the core of the movie is figuring out Sue Ann’s motive and how far she’s willing to go for revenge. The climax of the film offers up some (mild) gore, but there’s an undeniable sense that Ma never goes to the lengths that it could. Nothing that shocking ever happens, and seasoned horror fans especially will be left deflated by the build-up of tension left unfulfilled. The most nail-biting moments of the film come relatively early on (such as when the teens first visit Sue-Ann’s basement), and while this level of tension is maintained, the film rarely ever builds upon it.

In fact, there’s more that the film fails to build upon other than its opportunity to scare. During the climax of the film, Sue Ann makes a reference to race as a motivation for her acts that goes largely unaddressed in the rest of the movie. It feels either as though this was a more important part of the film that was drastically cut down, or that the lines during the climax were thrown in last-minute. This is a shame, as including this story element more prominently would have only benefitted Ma.

Ma as a whole feels largely like a rush job. Continuity errors are normally relatively unimportant to the effectiveness of a film, but there is one in Ma which is so glaringly out of place it pulls you from the movie for a moment. It’s also clear from the ending that not enough time was given to developing characters other than Sue Ann. While the characters are all stock horror clichés, and don’t need that much more than they are given to provide the story with what it needs, there’s a definite lack of stakes in the ending due to their one-note characterisation.

Although it never delivers fully on its promise of scares, Ma can be a surprisingly funny film at times. The movie is able to monopolise on the pantomime effect of the audience being somewhat aware of Sue Ann’s underhand intentions, with every slight shift in facial expression or vocal tone from Spencer enough to create nervous laughs in uncomfortable scenes.  Allison Janney as Sue Ann’s antagonistic boss also provides moments of levity, while also showing a build-up of frustration in the titular character you know will eventually burst.

Ma is never as good is it could have been. Dipping its toes into story elements that could make it stand out above the crowd, but refusing to ever dive in, Ma is a decent enough thriller, but nothing to get excited about. The movie’s one shining feature is Octavia Spencer, whose fantastically creepy performance will keep you anchored to a film you would have drifted off from otherwise.

2.5/5

[mewreviews]

Pokemon Detective Pikachu Review

“Welcome to Ryme City. A celebration of the harmony between humans and Pokémon.”

Called into Ryme City after the mysterious death of his detective father, Tim Goodman meets a talking Pikachu who claims to be able to help him investigate the crime.  

Video game movies are infamous; from Street Fighter through to Super Mario Bros., it seemed as though anything translated from console to cinema was doomed to failure. And then came Pokémon Detective Pikachu. Here is a movie that not only understands and embraces everything about the source material that made it so popular, but is able to present it in a way that is fun, funny, and can carry itself on more than just a wave of nostalgia.

The pokémon themselves were animated flawlessly. Overwhelmingly cute, but intimidating or creepy when needed, it was a delight every time one appeared on the screen. And the film doesn’t shy away from using them, with dozens of the pocket monsters featured throughout. Part of the fun of the film is spotting all the pokémon in a scene, with many appearing in the backgrounds of shots, going about their lives in Ryme City.

The city itself is a treat to look at. With its grimy futurism, blending elements from New York and Tokyo, Ryme City is the kind of place you wish you could actually visit. Pokémon are blended seamlessly into the setting. Whether it be Aipom roaming the street, or a coffee shop using the image of a Noctowl, it feels like a place in which people and pokémon do actually live together. Effort was clearly made to integrate the pokémon realistically into the city, and it pays off.

Humour in the film also worked surprisingly well. There was some initial scepticism when it was announced Ryan Reynolds would be voicing the iconic and much-loved Pikachu. But his kid-friendly version of his Deadpool-style sardonic humour worked perfectly for the little electric mouse. Reynolds doesn’t carry the comedy of the film on his own, either. His human companions get in a few good lines of their own. But it is the other pokémon – most notably a Mr Mime heavily committed to his act, and a highly neurotic Psyduck – who draw the most laughs from the audience.

Where Pokémon Detective Pikachu falls down, however, is in its plot. It finds itself in that unfortunate position of being both too simplistic for its adult audiences, and too complex for children to fully understand. The film also relies too heavily on an uninspired plot device to deliver information, essentially employing a flashback machine to show the audience important plot points. The emotional beats of the film never hit as hard as the movie wants them to, either.

While Pokémon Detective Pikachu was able to create a dynamic and engaging world, you can’t help but wish it was given as creative a story to go with it. Despite this, the joy and humour the film exudes will be enough for new and old fans alike, and should even be enough for audiences who can’t tell their Raichu from their Raticate.

3.5/5

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What movie has helped you through a tough time?

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Watchmen Review

“You're going to try to convince me to save the world.”

When an old associate is killed by an unknown assassin, masked vigilante Rorschach attempts to convince his fellow heroes that a bigger conspiracy is afoot.

One thing that can’t be held against Watchmen is that it really does look like a graphic novel. From the over-the-top violence, to the dark and grimy urban setting, to the cluttered backgrounds giving us a glimpse into character’s inner lives, director Zack Snyder has put great effort into translating the visuals from page to screen exactly. Even our main character’s homes share the same dark hues as the apartments of villains or the streets filled with angry drunken citizens. The only time we’re treated to scenes with more pleasant lighting is in a flashback to the romanticised past of one of our heroes, which only serves to make the surrounding scenes seem darker in contrast.

However, while some fans may argue that lines were pulled directly from the source material, the dialogue was far less successful than the visuals. The way many characters speak resembles that edgy faux-intellectual discourse only teenage fanboys would see as cool. Rorschach suffers the most from this. His opening monologue in particular is full of cringe-inducing lines (“it screams like an abattoir full of retarded children”?). It’s the dialogue more than anything that makes the film’s tone hard to pin down. So many of the lines make the film seem as though it’s meant to be tongue in cheek, poking fun at itself and its own grand ridiculousness. And yet in all other regards, it handles itself with complete sincerity and even a tinge of self-importance.

With dialogue making up a large part of who a character is, based on the lines alone it would be surprising for the audience to form any kind of attachment to the cast. And yet the acting – for the most part – is convincing enough, and so much time is spent with them (a staggering 162 minutes for the theatrical release, and 215 for those dedicated enough for the ultimate cut), that these outlandish characters really do become human. By the end, I found myself genuinely scared for Rorschach, hoping for his safety. Small touches were added to most characters (such as the way in which Rorschach writes eloquently in his diary but speaks in broken sentences around other people) to flesh them out and make them sympathetic. Billy Crudup had the most difficult role in the cast, having to portray an all-powerful, glowing blue, and often fully naked Dr. Manhattan. His cool tone of voice was perfect for capturing this detached and incomprehensible being, with an ever-thinning layer of humanity underneath. The only character that never appealed was Malin Akerman as Silk Spectre II. While we spend a considerable amount of time with her, she never feels fully developed. Whether it was the way in which the character was written, the acting, the direction, or a combination of all three, it was a great shame that the only notable female character fell so very short.

The shallow representation of Silk Spectre II speaks to a greater problem with Watchmen. While the film is capable of handling “comic movie” dark, it completely fails in presenting real life dark. A scene which involves the near sexual assault of a character focuses heavily on her attack, almost relishing in it, but the perpetrator is never fully condemned for his actions, nor the victim given any real exploration as to her decisions following the event. The same man also commits atrocious war crimes and other savage acts, revelling in his own power and violence. Other characters disapprove of his actions – but disapproval is as far as it goes. Many of his choices are even depicted as somewhat comic. While having a “hero” act in such a way was definitely an interesting plot point – and one I’m sure was explored better in the graphic novel – the film simply doesn’t know how, or even chooses not to, portray his violence as something separate to the other heroes.

One element that did fit fully with the tone of the film, and yet still came as a complete and welcome surprise, was the ending. Despite everything the film showed me, I still expected the world to be saved in the “right” way come the end. The movie was explicit in the fact that heroes aren’t always good, and people not always worth saving, and yet I had become so accustomed to the superhero formula that I could never have predicted the finale.

Watchmen is akin to a chef throwing everything in their kitchen into a big pot. There are some elements that work so well; the visuals, much of the characterisation, and the bleak ending were all handled with considerable care. Yet there’s an equal amount that leaves a bad taste in the mouth. While this mammoth project was clearly a labour of love for Snyder, how much it works for any individual viewer probably heavily depends on their original appreciation of the graphic novel.

3/5

[mewreviews]

I was wondering if you have ever reviewed the movie Watchmen? I'd love to see your thoughts about that particular take on the superhero genre.

Watchmen has always been one of those movies where I’m like “ahh I really need to see that, I’ll watch it tonight” and then inevitably end up watching a movie I’ve seen 100 times before (I won’t tell you what else is on my “I should really watch this list” or else I will lose whatever credibility I have)I’ll give it a watch sometime this week and have a review out on it sooon. Thanks for the suggestion! :) x 

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Us Review

“We’re Americans.”

A family’s relaxed summer vacation turns into a nightmare when mother Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o) finds out her worst fears are about to be realised.

Jordan Peele’s second foray into the horror genre definitely cranks up the scares, the film cycling between nauseating tension and terrifying thrills. While the actual horror doesn’t start until about half an hour in (Peele instead allowing the audience to learn about and love our leading family) a sense of foreboding is established from the off. And when the scares do kick in, the movie doesn’t let up until the closing scene. Whether the family is being confronted by their attackers in a tense and unbalanced face-off, or else fleeing into the night, the situation established is simply so creepy the audience never feels a moment of release. The film is imbued with a sense of the uncanny and uncomfortable. What do you do when confronted with a version of yourself, in appearance so similar and yet in actions so fiendishly other?

This sense of the unnatural wouldn’t have been possible without the flawless work of the cast. The actors achieved such distinct performances between their “real” selves and their “other” that at times you found yourself questioning whether you were actually watching two different people. The physicality of the sinister counterparts (the “Tethered”) is delightfully creepy; it would almost be comic if it wasn’t so horrible. Winston Duke’s Tethered, a polar opposite of goofy dad Gabe, is extremely intimidating and almost Frankenstein-like. Shahadi Wright-Joseph’s smile and unblinking eyes are haunting. Evan Alex abandons all semblance of humanity, running around on all fours, and despite being the smallest member of the cast is in no way any less terrifying. Yet it is to Lupita Nyong’o, as the matriarch of the family and of the Tethered, that serious praise must be directed. Her precise and clinical way of moving as Red - so reminiscent of the scissors the Tethered carry – along with her cracked and jarring voice, is the menacing core of the film. There’s madness and malevolence in her eyes, just as with the rest of the Tethered, but there also lies a calculating intelligence, making her the most formidable of them all.

Peele is meticulous in his vision. There is not a wasted second of this film; not a needless line of dialogue, scene, or prop. The theme of mirroring is there from the beginning of the film, be it in the time on a clock, a score being announced on a television set in the background, or the layout of a shot. The camerawork is also fantastic. One scene in particular mimicking the sway of a boat works amazingly, as the audience waits to see what will pop into view. Light is also used to good effect, with shadows cast over characters’ faces, their intentions.

Sadly, where Us falls down is in its scope. Being only his second step into the field of directing, a comparison to smash success Get Out was all but inevitable, especially given the two explore similar themes of identity. Get Out was a far more contained story, and arguably had a more air-tight plot. Us is ambitious. It tells a larger story, spans more time, uses more locations, focuses on more characters, and its conclusion promises a far-reaching effect. And its sheer size makes for a far less neat film. While Peele’s work here is still intricate, it was perhaps too bulky for a second outing.

Unlike Get Out, however, the complexity of Us means you can conjure up any number of interpretations. Duality is key to the film; both within ourselves and in society. So too is a preoccupation with materialism, a sense of “keeping up with the Jones’” (or, in this case, with the Tyler’s). Who is the real villain of the piece, and with whom should our sympathies lie? Is violence through inaction, or even ignorance, violence all the same? Does our birth hold a reflection up to who we are as people, or can we only ever be a product of our society?

Although it doesn’t tell a tale as concisely as its predecessor, Us is heavy with moral and metaphysical implications. Relentlessly tense and extremely clever, the film will leave you questioning everything once your heart rate drops.

 4/5

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Gifted Review

“He's a good person. He wanted me before I was smart.”

Frank, a boat repairman who has been raising his child prodigy niece Mary since her mother’s suicide, is drawn into a custody battle over the child with her grandmother.

One thing that Gifted can boast is its truly stellar cast. Chris Evans leads the movie as Frank, and delivers a subdued performance of a man dealing with a heavy amount of grief and regret who must mask it in order to best raise his niece. McKenna Grace is the niece in question, and plays the character with the perfect balance of self-assured precociousness and childish uncertainty. While it is clearly an early leading role for the young actress, she and Evans share enough chemistry to make the relationship wholly believable, and inject enough emotion to make them easy characters to invest in. The supporting cast is also excellent, and tragically underused. Octavia Spencer especially Is in a role too small for her talents. Despite this, she still plays well the role of a warm, maternal figure that Grace’s Mary was otherwise missing from her life.

It is the superb cast that elevates Gifted above simply being a clichéd Lifetime film. The beats of the movie are all entirely predictable, with not a single surprise offered by the storyline. A brief separation between Mary and Frank does elicit some emotion due to the pair’s performance, but their reunion is so obvious it’s difficult to generate the upset the film clearly wants you to feel. The soundtrack doesn’t help the situation, with lyrics all but telling you what you’ve just seen and how you should react. The script, at least, does offer some clever lines and amusing moments, providing the movie something other than just the performances to rely on.

While it is a perspective we’ve seen before, the film handles well the issue of a child’s well-being as something wholly out of their hands. Mary’s opinion on where she wants to live won’t be considered by the courts until she is twelve, despite having a clear understanding of what she wants already. In fact, there is so much out of Mary’s control in terms of how her life will be shaped. Spencer’s Roberta criticises Frank for failing to get a white lawyer, commenting on how the racism of the court system means the judge is likely to favour the grandmother’s side.

What Gifted finds more difficult is executing scenes clearly constructed to tug on your heart strings. Some work well, and combine good cinematography with cutesy dialogue to produce something winning. A scene of Mary using Frank as a climbing frame while they ponder the existence of God, silhouetted against a glowing orange sunlight, is sweetly funny despite how cheesy it may sound. A similar scene in a maternity ward, however, fails completely, coming off instead as uncomfortable and frankly quite odd.

Gifted needed to be far more consistent in its delivery to be something more than a casual Sunday morning movie. While the cast elevate the film substantially and often clever dialogue helps with the pacing, the predictability and awkward sentimental moments keeps Gifted from being anything other than mediocre.

2.5/5

[mewreviews]

Could you review Gifted?

For sure! I remember I watched this half-dead on a long haul flight one time, so I’ll probably give it a rewatch to do it justice :P I’ll try and get it up by the end of the week! 

Thanks for the recommendation :) 

[mewreviews]

Sorry to Bother You Review

“I just really need a job.”

When a colleague recommends using a phony “white voice” while talking to customers, call centre worker Cassius Green finds himself propelled through the ranks to the prestigious role of Power Caller.

A hilarious and biting satire that quickly evolves into a horrifying fever dream, Sorry to Bother You embraces so much in its nearly two-hour runtime that it seems nearly impossible to distil into a few paragraphs. Covering everything from race, capitalism, and modern slavery to relationships and art, the movie is – at the very least – ambitious. How much it works for any individual viewer will depend on how much the film grabs you in its opening third. If you find yourself enjoying the humour and empathising with the struggle of barely-getting-by Cassius, you’ll probably allow yourself to be carried through the more absurdist turns later in the movie.

Yet while the film is inarguably absurd, and one of the most bizarre satires in recent memory, it’s also constructed carefully enough that no revelation seems unearned. Especially on a second watch, it’s clear to see the groundwork that was laid justifying every decision in the film. Just as in real life, with some of the most disturbing aspects of the film, it’s not that the viewer couldn’t see the events unfolding, but that they didn’t want to. Could director Boots Riley’s message be delivered without taking the drastic course that Sorry to Bother You does? Possibly. And yet so much of the beauty of the film comes from how sheerly unapologetic it is. Whether you find the finished piece genius or idiocy will not affect how Riley wants to tell his story.

STBY is anchored by a fantastic performance from Lakeith Stanfield, who plays protagonist Cassius Green (whose name is one of the most obvious nods to the importance of capital in modern society).  Despite playing a generally very laid-back character, Stanfield is able to embody so much in his portrayal. Joy and anger, resignation and rebellion, love and unbridled horror, Stanfield presents it all so believably in a movie world just outside the realm of believability. He also physically grows during the film, representing his rise both in the company and in self-confidence. Before his promotion, Cassius stoops in every scene he’s in, making himself smaller and unwilling to take up any space. But once he becomes a Power Caller, Cassius allows himself to stand straight. It was only once he began to earn money that Cassius let himself believe he was able to take up space, demonstrating the damaging effect that equating money with worth has.

The film is also supported by some excellent, and often amusing, camerawork. Playing on the invasiveness of telemarketing calls, Cassius and his desk physically drop into the lives of those he is calling, no matter what they’re doing. The more confident Cassius grows in his approach, the closer he’ll be positioned to the person answering the phone. At one point, he’s situated directly in front of a man using the toilet, leaning in companionably as he makes his sale.

If the first viewing doesn’t find you too overwhelmed to revisit this just-dystopian Oakland, Sorry to Bother You is a film highly worthy of a rewatch. Going in with an acceptance of where the plot is going to take you allows you to pick up on so many easily overlooked details and formulate your own interpretations. Are the bosses messing around with the copier in the background of Cassius’ first day on the job literally printing paper, while the employees do the actual work? Was the girl who threw the coke can a genuine protester, or was she put there to commodify the demonstration? Was Mr. Blank’s name bleeped out because he has sold so much of himself and his identity to the company, that he’s literally lost his own name?

Sorry to Bother You is at turns a hilarious satire and a horrifying reflection of our capitalist society. While its sharp turns and, at times, intense levels of discomfort may alienate some viewers, the bravery and sheer ambition of the piece defiantly places itself as one of the most cutting and necessary critiques of modern life.

4.5/5

[mewreviews]

Mary Poppins Returns Review

“You’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a child”

With the Banks children grown up, and Michael now a father himself, Mary Poppins returns to guide the family once more.

It was inevitable that a sequel to a movie as beloved as Mary Poppins would have cinema seats filled with those doubtful of the second attempt’s success, or even necessity. Mary Poppins Returns, however, brushes aside such concerns almost immediately. Greeted by Lin-Manuel Miranda’s charmingly bad Cockney accent, we cycle through the early morning light of London to arrive at the familiar Cherry Tree Lane. In fact, there’s much about the sequel that seems familiar. Yet director Rob Marshall’s version is not hackneyed, but instead wonderfully comforting. Mary Poppins Returns offers the same blanket-warmth nostalgia of revisiting a childhood story fondly remembered.

The theme of nostalgia is a key element in the sequel. Michael mourns for his recently passed wife, the children their mother. Nostalgia hangs heavy over the house, which the Banks are under threat of losing. Then there is audience nostalgia. Older viewers, reminded of the original as the sequel treads the familiar beats, revisit the first time they met Mary Poppins. This could have tinged the film with an unwanted sadness, emphasised by Mary’s question “Do you ever dream or reminisce, wondering where to find what you truly miss?” But, along with the Banks children, we are reminded that nothing important is ever truly lost.

It is here with “The Place Where Lost Things Go” that audiences will first find themselves tearing up. With this song, the sequel truly cements itself as something special. Returns is just a shade darker than the original, but it is this that lets the sweeter moments shine through brighter. The music throughout is a success, in turns whimsical and fun, and touchingly sentimental. It’s unlikely any of the songs will be as iconic as those from the original – there’s certainly no “supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” here – but they’re still catchy and enjoyable. While Emily Blunt’s voice isn’t quite as powerful as Julie Andrews’, she delivers the songs with far more theatricality and a little more bite.

Blunt’s Poppins has a little more bite in general. Taking more from P.L Travers’ original character than Andrews did, the nanny in Returns, while caring, is certainly not a woman you’d want to cross. Prim and proper, and very self-assured, Blunt plays the character with more of an air of sly mystery and a sharper edge. Miranda’s Jack (this movie’s Bert), is then the ideal balm to the arch of Mary Poppins with his warmth and sweetness. The fact that Blunt makes the character so decidedly her own, however, was crucial. It would have been unwise to emulate exactly what Andrews portrayed, and this Mary Poppins, while different, still seems a natural evolution from the first.

A further evolution from the original was the blend of live action and animation. It seems far more seamless in the sequel, and looks more appealing. The movie still employs hand-drawn animation, however, which lent itself once more to the embrace of nostalgia.

While there were a few missteps (such as the anachronistic inclusion of BMX-riding lamplighters, and an ending that went on slightly too long), Mary Poppins Returns was a faithful and playful sequel. A more perfect follow-up to Julie Andrews couldn’t have been found than with Emily Blunt, and the movie’s genuine devotion to the importance of childishness and joy is one that is sure to leave a smile on any fan’s face.

3.5 /5

[mewreviews]

Moonlight Review

“I'm me, man. I ain't trying to be nothing else.”

Moonlight chronicles the life of Chiron, from a withdrawn and quiet child through to a hard and resilient adult, as he struggles with family, sexuality, and identity.

Waves are a constant symbol throughout Moonlight. And, like the waves, the effect the film has on you is slow and quiet, difficult to notice until it’s pulled you all the way in. There’s a muteness to the piece, an odd stillness, with the main character usually just a step away from total silence in every scene. The breathing space the movie provides affords audiences time to reflect even while they watch. Black-outs after major scenes, lingering on the screen, mean viewers are never hurried to the next point of action but are instead almost forced to consider what they’ve just watched. Moonlight is an incredibly powerful film, but subtle in its strength.

So much of this power comes from the performances given by the entire cast. Special credit must be paid to Janelle Monáe and Naomie Harris, the only two actors to feature in all three segments. Even though we are given only hints as to what happens to each during the time skips, it’s easy to see through their character portrayals the effect life has had on them. The way Alex Hibbert, Ashton Sanders, and Trevante Rhodes – who play the different stages of Chiron’s life – build and craft around each other’s performances makes the film seem as though it, like Boyhood, had tracked the same actor throughout his life. Features of the previous life stage can be traced in each new actor, while still providing a distinct and noticeably matured identity both times.

More than anything, Moonlight is a study of identity. Yet unlike traditional character study films, Moonlight does not focus on Chiron’s true personality, but instead on how he grows and adapts to hide it. Little is a child who listens and observes, trying to understand how the world reacts to who he is, and only ever choosing to show vulnerability and trust in a select few people.  By the time he reaches adulthood, now going by Black, he’s crafted an almost entirely new persona. The only thing linking him to his childhood self is his taciturnity. It’s only through having witnessed his journey that the audience can understand his hidden depths.

Towards the end of the film, in a scene that aches with rarely-witnessed truth, the audience sees this constructed persona briefly fall. More intimate than any kiss, Black allows himself to be held, his head cradled close. It’s a complete rejection of the masculine identity he had built, and something the film rejects from the start. As a teen, Chiron confides that he sometimes feels as though he cries so much he’s “just gonna turn into drops”. And the film allows Chiron to cry – not just a single tear, but his whole body wracked with sobs – all the way through to adulthood. He embodies a tenderness and a vulnerability throughout, making him one of the most necessary characters in cinema.

Yet it’s not just through its character-work that Moonlight constructs something of importance and beauty. Scenes are imbued with rich, over-saturated colours, creating the sense of a dream just as you are on the precipice of waking. Others are starker and brighter, harsher on the eye, and harsher in the story. The soundtrack flows seamlessly between grand orchestral pieces and modern songs, some of which are reworked and slowed so as to fit in with the film’s sense of reaching for something just too far away.

It’s said that you must reread a book twice: first for the story, and then again to appreciate the artistic expression. Nowhere more so is this true than with Moonlight, with Barry Jenkins’ artistic mastery demanding a repeat viewing to be fully valued. Delivering something overwhelmingly powerful with so delicate a touch, Moonlight is a true triumph of cinema.

5/5

[mewreviews]

The Predator Review

“Get to the choppers!”

When soldier Quinn McKenna sends home equipment looted from an alien crash site, he unknowingly embroils his family in a deadly galactic manhunt.

Despite a surprisingly weak opener, more reminiscent of a Steven Spielberg film than the latest entry into the Predator franchise, the movie quickly asserts itself as the exact kind of gory ridiculousness needed to reboot the series. Director Shane Black blends three storylines to create a surprisingly fun action flick: Quinn and the other soldiers on the “loony bus”, scientist Casey Bracket who is desperate to study the alien, and Quinn’s son Rory who is being targeted by the Predators after playing with their tech. While the lead is a typically bland tough guy archetype, flavour is added by the supporting cast. Olivia Munn as the intelligent but feisty Casey is a standout, holding her own against the largely male cast, which includes Trevante Rhodes who portrays excellently the charismatic but self-destructive Nebraska. The whole piece is maintained by a soundtrack that pays homage to the original.

Within the first ten minutes, The Predator quells any fears that the reboot might tone down the gore of the original entries. The titular alien species waste no time in dismembering, deskinning, and disembowelling their way through the cast. An abundance of extras in the form of soldiers and scientists provide ample opportunity for the Predator to show off his grisly skills. The film does dip in the later half, however, with the introduction of a bigger, more advanced Predator does little to raise the stakes. The climactic action scene is disappointingly uneventful, with the alien adversary dispatched with surprising ease. doing

One element Shane Black really brings to the forefront in The Predator is that of comedy. While previous entries in the franchise have been fun, they’ve not been funny, and Black aims to rectify that with the latest instalment. The humour is mainly a hit, able to eclipse the weaker parts of the film simply due to the sheer volume of jokes. With the amount of jokes being fired off, however, it’s inevitable that not all of them will land, resulting in more than a few noticeably cringey missteps. Keegan-Michael Key’s character in particular can come across more irritating than amusing, hamming up his performance unnecessarily.

One reason for his weak character, however, is in part due to the shockingly bad editing. The whole piece seems ridiculously rushed and careless. Key’s character is meant to share a significant relationship with fellow soldier Baxley, but it’s never actually shown. The audience is quickly told in a throwaway scene, but apart from one moment towards the end of the film where the significance is lessened due to the shoddy editing, we’re never actually given any evidence of their bond. There are also a few shots that seem to have been left in by mistake, making for a confused watch. One shot in particular of a dog running towards the camera stands out as awkward, as the animal isn’t seen again for the rest of the film.

The effects in the movie are also very hit-and-miss. The creature design itself is very good, and the film doesn’t shy away from showing the Predator in all his menacing glory. But then some elements – noticeably his glowing orange eyes and fluorescent green blood – wouldn’t have been out of place in a Goosebumps episode. The gore is always brief enough to never look fake, advancing quickly from one massacred soldier to the next. But the CGI becomes markedly worse as the film progresses, and may be enough to deter some viewers from the carnage.

Despite its trip-ups, The Predator still manages to deliver a surprisingly good update to the franchise. While the careless editing job makes it easily forgettable, the movie is undeniably fun in the moment.

3/5

[mewreviews]

The Nun Review

“What's the opposite of a miracle, Father?”

After the suicide of a nun, the Vatican sends an experienced priest and a novice soon to take her vows to investigate.

The latest and most disappointing entry into The Conjuring franchise, The Nun abandons all that was fresh about the original film, and instead provides an hour-and-a-half of jump scares and uninspired plot. While the movie can occasionally deliver effective imagery, it relies too heavily on sudden swells from the orchestra or a character jumping out of the dark to try and convince its audience they’re watching something scary. What The Nun fails to understand is that it doesn’t need dramatic scares. It would have seen far better success had it employed the use of subtler frights, small unnerving moments instead of loud, disappointing jump scares.

In many ways, The Nun seemed more like a strangely-made action film than a horror. The shotgun-wielding, flaming-torch-bearing Frenchie was straight out of an Indiana Jones movie, complete with sexual innuendos and flirtatious winks. The evil in the film is also a lot more manifest and substantial, with demons tackling characters and very much being a part of the physical world. By lacking a sense of the other-worldly, it lessened the effectiveness of the antagonist dramatically. If a shotgun can blast away your foe, what makes them more intimidating than just another person?

Another major issue plaguing The Nun is one faced by most prequels; we know the demon Valak eventually returns, so what is there to be invested in? By creating likeable, sympathetic characters, prequels can avoid this issue and have audiences invest in the heroes’ plight. The franchise’s staple leads – Ed and Lorraine Warren – are extremely easy to root for, creating tension even when the scares would otherwise be faltering. While The Nun’s leads, Taiisa Farmiga and Demián Bichir, both deliver solid acting and neither create unlikeable characters, the writing for the pair simply isn’t strong enough to generate any genuine emotion from the audience.

Perhaps to compensate for the rest of the film, the use of comedy was more noticeable here than in the rest of the franchise. Comic relief Frenchie delivers some hit-and-miss lines that, while they don’t impair the film in any way, don’t do very much to elevate it either. There’s also a hint of a potential romance between Frenchie and Farmiga’s Sister Irene, with the movie consistently reminding the audience she’s yet to take her vows. Thankfully, though, the film does not take this route.

One thing The Nun does get right is its setting, and effective use of atmosphere. Departing from the traditional setting of haunted house, The Nun instead takes place in a bomb-ravaged castle in 1950s Romania. The use of the grand gothic setting works well. The castle, surrounded by an expanse of forest, inaccessible and remote, makes the characters feel truly isolated and trapped. While more could be done to play on the setting, the atmosphere it creates is effective regardless.

Although the cast, particularly Taissa Farmiga, provide solid performances, the scares simply aren’t enough to generate any real investment in the film. Fans of The Conjuring universe may appreciate the added lore The Nun provides, but it was presented so underwhelmingly it seems like an entry the franchise could have done without.

2/5

[mewreviews]

Hereditary Review

 “I can't accept. And I can't forgive. Because... because nobody admits anything they've done!”

After the death of her estranged mother, a woman and her family attempt to grieve and move on, but dark secrets soon come to light.

Zooming in on a room in a model house, Hereditary transitions us, seamlessly and unsettlingly, from the miniature into the home of the film’s grieving family. This unheimlich opening paves the way for a movie that is just wholly unnerving, unrelenting in its atmosphere of total discomfort. The sense of dread generated in Hereditary is so thick it’s almost nauseating. Whether you’re forced into a family dinner scene you definitely don’t want to be a part of, or witnessing something far more supernatural, the film is a masterclass in creating unease.

This discomfort is underpinned by a family dynamic that’s played out very true to life. Toni Colette as Annie is the core of this film, giving a performance that is subdued and tired in the first act, which only makes her shift to dramatic and explosive later in the film that much more impactful. Alex Wolff as teenage son Peter gives a performance that is surprisingly vulnerable. There is no coming-of-age arc for this teenager, instead Peter begins to regress, a transition that is highly emotional and painful to watch due to Wolff’s invested performance. Milly Shapiro creates an unsettling Charlie, and it is her small character trademarks (such as her clucking) that will stay with you once the film ends.

The family is what makes Hereditary as powerful an experience as it is. Every character is fleshed out and allowed to feel real; they are people inhabiting this film, not horror movie stereotypes. The script is perfect – awkward when it needs to be, but realistic in its expression of family relationships. The breakdown of family bonds is very similar to those presented in The Babadook. The dinner scene in particular – one that is sure to become iconic for Hereditary -  has strong links to the 2014 horror, with its expression of pent-up anger and issues of unwanted motherhood.

Focusing purely on the horror aspect of Hereditary, the film provides us with some fiendishly original imagery. There were shots in the movie that made me audibly gasp due to how unexpected and original they were. Director Ari Aster also shows how immersed he is in horror cinema; both classic through his references but also, more importantly, modern through his avoidance of and play on current horror movie tropes. Jump scares are prolific in modern horror films, and Hereditary is very clever in never giving you what you expect. There are long, drawn-out shots of rooms, of cameras panning slowly over the scene, and you know that something is bound to lunge out of the darkness. And yet it never does. When something horrible is shown in Hereditary, it’s present in the shot from the beginning, just waiting for you to take notice. The camera also refuses to cut away from the unsettling thing, lingering on it far too long for you ever to be able to take a breath of relief. The scares in Hereditary are just far more brazen than expected. The horror doesn’t lurk in the shadows, but stands in full view, waiting, smiling, for you to be aware.

The ending in Hereditary is one that is sure to polarise viewers. Fully embracing the occult angle in the film, the final ten-minutes are filled with disturbing images of self-inflicted violence and a complete dive into chaos. Yet the ending feels almost too final, and leaves a feeling of dissatisfaction. All throughout – and even with the title of the movie – the film makes us question: how much can be passed down from your family? How much of your self is crafted by you and your experiences, and how much is solely due to your genetics? Are we even free to make our own choices, or is our life wholly predetermined based on our upbringing? Hereditary’s ending casts out these questions. It may have been more suitable – and arguably more unsettling – to go for a more ambiguous ending, leaving the audience wondering, and not simply shutting down threads that had been carried through the rest of the film.

The Babadook meets Rosemary’s Baby, Hereditary takes the best elements from its inspirations and crafts something wholly unique and wholly disturbing. Abandoning for the most part a more conventional style of horror in favour of generating an unceasing atmosphere of dread, Hereditary may stumble at the final hurdle, but still succeeds in creating an entirely unforgettable film.

4/5

[mewreviews]

Hacksaw Ridge Review

“I don't know how I'm going to live with myself if I don't stay true to what I believe.”

Determined to join the war effort while remaining true to his morals, Desmond Doss faces intense backlash for his decision to be a field medic and a conscientious objector during WW2.

Andrew Garfield gives a phenomenal performance as Desmond Doss, his portrayal of the character carrying the audience through the film. Under the wrong hands, Desmond could very easily have been an unlikeable caricature, preachy and moralistic, evangelical to the point of distaste. Yet Garfield creates a character so earnest and genuine, someone you sympathise with and root for from the get-go. You feel every emotion he does, and the success of the film is largely due to his performance; if you didn’t care for Desmond so deeply the tension generated in the latter half of the film would be extinguished. Hugo Weaving also gives a surprisingly emotional performance. Almost unrecognisable as a PTSD-suffering war veteran and alcoholic, it is his actions that contribute greatly to the founding of Desmond’s morals.

The building of Desmond as a character is fundamental to the film’s success, and the first half of the movie focuses exclusively on his life before he enters the war zone. The warm and romantic hues of his early life in Virginia serve as stark contrast to the clean greens and whites of the army base, and even starker to the grey and brown and red of the battlefield. The love story between Desmond and Dorothy is utterly charming, the strain of his home life clear, and it is this love and this trauma in equal measure that serve to make Desmond the man he is. The harassment he faces at the army base is also essential in showing the audience how dear he holds his convictions to his heart. It’s difficult to watch, seeing a character you recognise to be good and brave, bullied and undermined by those he is allied with, but it only makes his actions in the film that much more inspiring.

When the war scenes do hit, however, they hit hard and brutal. The build-up is excruciating; the troop encounters other units on their way out of Okinawa, clearly having experienced something horrifying beyond words, and yet it is their duty to continue on and face whatever demolished those men. When they do make it over the ridge, the preceding hour of calm pacing is gone, and the viewer is bombarded with an endless onslaught of violent imagery. The war scenes are filmed almost like a horror film; it is as though the troop climbed that ridge into hell. Bodies are flung about like rag dolls, men are dying everywhere the camera turns, limbs are lost, and the characters faces are smeared with mud and gore.

In the midst of this all without a gun, audience fear for Desmond’s safety is excruciatingly high. You watch through your fingers as Desmond makes his way across the battlefield, trying to help the injured with his meagre supplies of bandages and morphine. The tension generated is unbelievable and unrelenting in the nearly 50-minute battle scene. The strength and bravery displayed by this one man is inspirational, made all the more powerful by the fact that Desmond Doss was a real person. The final scenes of the movie which show interview clips from the real Desmond are truly cathartic, applying a bandage after the emotional wound that was this film.

Director Mel Gibson very much portrays the American troops as the unambiguous good guys of the piece, however. The Japanese are monsters in the mist, inhuman attackers who will stop at nothing to kill our heroes. While it’s clear to see why the American soldiers would see the enemy like that, and it does add to the horror element of the piece, the film would be better served by not creating such a moral divide between the two sides. Doss could still have been presented as a hero and a good man without making it seem like he’s saving his men from monsters; while the hellish imagery used on the battlefield is fantastic, they needn’t use this to demonise the other side.

Hacksaw Ridge is a powerful testament to the force of one good man in the face of overwhelming horror. While the line is thin in its attempt to fully showcase the atrocities of war without being gratuitous, Garfield’s stunningly human performance keeps the film grounded and emotional.

3.5/5