Sky Cinema Review: A Different Man (2024) – a multi-faceted character study on inner and outer identity.

SKY CINEMA REVIEW: A DIFFERENT MAN (2024)

Directed by Aaron Schimberg

Written by Aaron Schimberg

Produced by Christine Vachon, Vanessa McDonnell & Gabriel Mayers

Main cast: Sebastian Stan, Renate Reinsve, and Adam Pearson.

Cinematography by Wyatt Garfield

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



Few films in recent years feel as startlingly original as A Different Man (2024) —and yet, paradoxically, it’s a film made almost entirely from borrowed pieces. Aaron Schimberg’s latest begins as a bracing character study, anchored by Sebastian Stan’s Edward Lemuel, a socially awkward, struggling actor whose neurofibromatosis manifests in a disfiguring facial condition. These early passages are its strongest: Edward’s halting existence, his quiet desperation, disintegrating ceiling and the unnerving, tactile authenticity of his world call to mind the seedy New York grit of Abel Ferrara and Frank Henenlotter.

But just as the viewer settles into this world, the film veers via a sci-fi twist. An experimental procedure transforms Edward’s face, and with it, the narrative mutates. Suddenly we’re in a Woody Allenesque romantic entanglement—wry, neurotic, and tinged with irony—as Edward’s new identity draws him into a triangular relationship with Renate Reinsve as Ingrid and Adam Pearson as Oswald. Oswald also has neurofibromatosis, but has a confidence and popularity that Edward envies. As Oswald usurps Edward’s place in the off-Broadway play Ingrid is directing the film’s tone teeters between comedy and cruelty.



From there, A Different Man (2024) shape-shifts yet again. The third act discards linearity for a fragmented, Charlie Kaufmanesque unraveling: episodic bursts, narrative cul-de-sacs, and surreal detours that question not just Edward’s identity but the film’s own. It’s at once exhilarating and frustrating. Schimberg seems intent on deconstructing his own story midstream, leaving us with shards of multiple films rather than one fully integrated work. The ending works artistically but could, for me, have been way more dramatic with Edward confronting Oswald for, in his neurotic mind, stealing his life and identity.

That tension—between raw originality and homage—defines A Different Man (2024). It begins with remarkable clarity and empathy, only to succumb to a kind of cinematic identity crisis. Nonetheless, the film is very funny and moving and the themes are also very thought-provoking. Further, the script, direction and performances, especially from Sebastian Stan and Adam Pearson, make the film consistently compelling. Indeed, even in its unevenness, it remains one of the most daring and distinctive works of the past few years: a film that refuses to be just one thing, even if that refusal undermines certain dramatic potential.

Mark: 8.5 out of 11


Cinema Review: Weapons (2025) – a finely constructed horror mystery!

Cinema Review: Weapons (2025)

Directed by Zach Cregger

Written by Zach Cregger

Produced by Zach Cregger, Roy Lee, Miri Yoon, J. D. Lifshitz, Raphael Margules, etc.

Main Cast: Josh Brolin, Julia Garner, Alden Ehrenreich, Austin Abrams, Cary Christopher, Benedict Wong and Amy Madigan.

Cinematography by Larkin Seiple

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



Zach Cregger’s Barbarian (2022) was an intriguing feature debut that captivated viewers with a suspenseful, tension-filled first half, expertly building a sense of dread and mystery. The film begins with a seemingly simple premise — a woman arrives at an Airbnb, only to find it double-booked — but what starts as a quiet psychological thriller quickly takes an unexpected turn. As the plot unfolds, the sense of unease grows, drawing viewers deeper into its web of secrets.

However, the second half of the film ventures into increasingly bizarre and chaotic territory, unravelling into a frankly insane series of twists and reveals. While it might initially seem like a more grounded thriller, Barbarian (2022) pushed the boundaries of genre, diving head first into over-the-top absurdity. It’s a thrilling ride that keeps you on the edge of your seat, even if the madness of the final act leaves you both bewildered and entertained. In some ways Cregger’s follow-up Weapons (2025) shares such structural and thematic similarities with his first film, however, it is a much more controlled and impactful mystery. Until the end.

Weapons (2025) immediately hooks viewers with the mystery of the seventeen children going missing in the town of Maybrook. This instantly draws us into a world brimming with tension and unanswered questions. The authorities investigation into their disappearance soon stalls and how the townsfolk react becomes the central thread, gradually unraveling a complex, carefully structured narrative. Thus, Cregger’s postmodern fairy-tale unfolds through the eyes of various interconnected characters, each of whom brings a unique perspective and layer to the plot.



Josh Brolin plays Archer Graff, a father grieving the disappearance of his son Matthew, one of the missing children. His portrayal is poignant, balancing grief with a desperate need for answers, and his journey pushes the narrative forward with a personal stake in the outcome. Next, Julia Garner’s Justine Gandy, a dedicated teacher, adds another emotional dimension. She’s devastated when she discovers that nearly all of her students have vanished without a trace, with the exception of Alex Lilly (played by Cary Christopher), the only child from her class who remains. Justine’s struggle to find out what happened to her students, coupled with her own crumbling personal life and alcoholism, make her a compelling protagonist.

Other characters include Alden Ehrenreich’s Paul Morgan, a troubled police officer with his own set of demons, is a reluctant ally to Justine. Their past relationship adds a layer of tension as they navigate the growing sense of danger and urgency surrounding the missing children. Then, Austin Abrams brings a sense of raw, chaotic energy to James, a homeless drug addict and burglar whose past intersects with the mystery in unexpected ways. Lastly, Benedict Wong plays Marcus Miller, the school principal, who serves as an important figure in Justine’s quest for answers. Though sympathetic to her, Marcus is often caught between his professional responsibilities and the mounting pressure of the situation.

Weapons (2025) masterfully weaves its non-linear narrative with a striking array of tense, spine-chilling moments that keep audiences on edge throughout. As the plot unfolds through intersecting character arcs, the film expertly intersperses surprising scares, thrilling foot chases, and creepy locations, all while pulling you deeper into its twisting mystery. The jumps in time and the interconnected storylines create a sense of disorientation that builds forces viewers to constantly question what’s real and what isn’t.

Each character’s journey is filled with psychological unease and physical danger, leading to some genuinely heart-pounding sequences. Meanwhile, the eerie, claustrophobic settings—ranging from decaying homes to ominous, unfamiliar spaces—serve as perfect backdrops for the increasing horror. These moments contribute to the growing sense that something monstrous is lurking just beneath the surface, waiting to break free. Further, the film also plays with ambiguity, surreal dreams and unreliable narrators, allowing characters’ perspectives to fracture.

However, similar to Barbarian (2022), Weapons (2025) takes a tonal right-turn in the final moments, descending into all-out mania and Savini-style gore. The reveal of the matriarchal menace, who emerges as a central ‘Pied Piper’ type villain, feels somewhat unearned, undermining the narrative choices before. The ending also didn’t quite fully connect with the deeper themes or subtext of the film that were promised in the set-up. Yet, despite such inconsistencies Cregger’s Weapons (2025) has been marketed incredibly well and as has deservedly done great box-office business. Lastly, Creggers is a very talented filmmaker and his second film remains a smartly written and gripping ride filled with tension, scares, and that insane final act.

Mark 8.5 out of 11


Cinema Review: Bring Her Back (2025) – a powerfully disturbing study of grief, obsession and matriarchal mania!

Cinema Review: Bring Her Back (2025)

Directed by Danny and Michael Philippou

Written by Danny Philippou and Bill Hinzman

Produced by Samantha Jennings, Kristina Ceyton

Cast: Billy Barratt, Sora Wong, Jonah Wren Phillips, Sally Hawkins, Sally-Anne Upton, etc.

Cinematography by Aaron McLisky

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



It’s become something of a cliché to lament the state of theatrical cinema: superhero fatigue, endless sequels, spin-offs and reboots, streaming overflow. Original stories—particularly in multiplexes—feel increasingly rare. Yet one genre has bucked the trend and, against all industry logic, placed original visions front and centre: horror. In an era of IP dominance, horror’s persistence as the great innovator is growing. It thrives on shadows, but in today’s cinema landscape, it’s also the brightest light.

Across the last few years, titles like Barbarian (2022), Pearl (2022), Skinamarink (2022), Nope (2022), Talk to Me (2023), Infinity Pool (2023), When Evil Lurks (2023), Late Night With the Devil (2023), Totally Killer (2023), Heretic (2024), Longlegs (2024), Sinners (2025), and the soon-to-be-reviewed, Weapons (2025) have proved again and again that audiences crave fresh nightmares. Even 28 Years Later (2025), though technically part of an ongoing series, represents a rare franchise event grounded less in brand synergy than in directorial reinvention and raw cultural appetite.

Unlike superhero spectacles or sci-fi epics, horror thrives on modest budgets and audacious ideas. A film like Skinamarink (2022), shot for a reported $15,000, can turn experimental textures into a viral theatrical moment. Personally, I found this film difficult to digest, however, the more commercial, Talk to Me (2023), made for $4.5 million, earned nearly twenty times that worldwide. These aren’t just hits; they’re validations of originality as a business model.



Horror is also a proving ground where young or unexpected filmmakers leap into the cultural spotlight. Zach Cregger (Barbarian (2022) twisted narrative structure into something memorable. The Philippou brothers Talk to Me (2023) translated YouTube viral adrenaline into terrifying cinematic language. But, what of their latest film, Bring Her Back (2025)? Well, for me they have surpassed their debut feature not only in genuinely sickening moments of dread, but also in terms of powerfully emotional horror scenes.

The narrative of Bring Her Back (2025) begins as it means to go on with a rapidly series of unsettling scenes. After discovering their father dead in the shower, 17-year-old Andy (Billy Barratt) and his partially sighted step-sister Piper (Sora Wong) are placed in the care of Laura (Sally Hawkins). Laura is an eccentric former counselor living on the outskirts of town and suffered the loss of her teenage daughter to drowning. In her home, the siblings encounter Oliver (Jonah Wren Phillips), a mute foster boy who seems terrified of the house’s locked outhouse. Andy eventually realizes Laura’s obsessive behaviour is far more threatening than he could imagine and they are all in danger.

Like Toni Collette in Hereditary (2018) and Lupita Nyong’o in Us (2019), Sally Hawkins delivers a powerfully intense performance that pushes horror into the realm of high drama. She carries the film with raw, nerve-shredding vulnerability, shifting from fragile grief to volcanic fury with startling precision. Every gesture—whether a whispered plea or a full-bodied breakdown—feels lived-in and emotionally scalding, grounding the supernatural terror in something painfully human. Also, Billy Barratt and newcomer Sora Wong offer excellent support as the in-peril ‘Hansel and Gretel’ siblings. Barratt is especially good carrying the audience’s fearful perspective.



The Philippou brothers draw on a potent brew of horror traditions—satanic ritual, grief, abduction, parental abandonment, and matriarchal hysteria—to craft Bring Her Back, a haunting and gut-wrenching descent into obsession. The film thrives on its willingness to plunge into emotional extremity, channeling raw pain into sequences of near-operatic dread. Several knife-in-the-teeth jolts of terror punctuate the story, as everyday necessities such as water, food and parental love are twisted into deathly hazards.

While the script occasionally wavers and certain narrative and backstory elements required sharpening, the thematic and emotional core remains undeniable. At its best, Bring Her Back (2025) isn’t just another exercise in occult horror—it’s a powerful study of grieving obsession, of the lengths people will go to fill a void that cannot be healed. The result is a film that lingers, not only for its shocks but for the raw ache that underpins them.

Mark: 9 out of 11


Cinema Review: Superman (2025) – a sketch-show rollercoaster ride that I could not wait to end!

CINEMA REVIEW: SUPERMAN (2025)

Directed by James Gunn

Written by James Gunn (Based on Characters from DC)

Produced by: Peter Safran, James Gunn

Main Cast: David Corenswet, Rachel Brosnahan, Nicholas Hoult, Edi Gathegi, Anthony Carrigan, Nathan Fillion, Isabela Merced, etc.

Cinematography by: Henry Braham

Edited by: William Hoy & Craig Alper

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



James Gunn’s wacky adaptation Superman (2025) unfolds less like a coherent narrative and more like a frenetic sketch show, veering from one oddball choice to the next with little tonal or emotional consistency. It’s a film that seems more interested in quirky vignettes and fan-service eccentricities than in telling a grounded or resonant Superman story. The result is a fragmented, overcooked spectacle—an atonal mess that struggles to resemble proper cinema in any meaningful sense.

This is especially disappointing considering Gunn’s earlier, more focused efforts. Lower budgeted Slither (2006), Super (2010), and even the first Guardians of the Galaxy (2014) were all infused with his irreverent flair, but they also benefited from creative restraint and clear narrative through-lines. Those films felt punchy, heartfelt, and cohesive. Here, Gunn appears unchecked, indulging in whimsy for whimsy’s sake, and the film buckles under the weight of Gunn seemingly being off given too much creative control.



Despite commendable performances from Nicholas Hoult as Lex Luthor and David Corenswet as Superman—both actors working hard to inject gravitas and humanity into the chaos—they’re ultimately overshadowed by the film’s tonal whiplash and scattershot storytelling. Hoult, who is one of the best actors around at the moment, is thrown under the bus by Gunn’s spectacularly bad directorial choices. And then there’s Krypto, Superman’s dog. In what universe does that choice feel appropriate for a reboot seeking to reestablish the character’s mythos? It lands like a joke without a punchline, symbolic of the film’s broader issues. Moreover, Gunn even tries to make political points reflecting current events, but it is a truly embarrassing attempt which fails to elicit any emotional clout.

Worse still, the lack of a meaningful origin story robs the character of emotional grounding. Instead of reintroducing Superman in a way that earns his place in this new cinematic universe, the film takes shortcuts, assuming audience investment without doing the work. In a media landscape already drowning in capes and cliches, Superman had the opportunity to reignite interest in the genre. Instead, it accelerates superhero fatigue, offering more noise when clarity and restraint were desperately needed.

In short, Superman (2025) is an overblown trifle—a hot mess that left me cold—a film that wants to be everything, ends up being very little, and reminds us that bigger is not always better. Yes. I am a bitter and grumpy old man by the way and I realise this film is probably aimed at people much younger and stupider than me, but I paid my entrance fee and this is how I felt.

Mark: 5 out of 11