All posts by Paul. Writer and Filmmaker

Paul is a writer and filmmaker. He has been committed to a writing career from a very early age. In 1997, he graduated from Staffordshire University with a first class degree in Film, TV and Radio Studies. His 2nd year short film project THE ARTS FILE won a Stoke-on-Trent Young Filmmaker's award. Subsequently, he worked as a Production Assistant on a number of promos and successfully completed a work placement at Sky Movies. In 2002, he gained an MA in Feature Film Screenwriting from Royal Holloway College of London and since graduation has written several feature and many short film scripts. In 2005, he formed FIX FILMS and has written and produced many shorts to date. He has also had several short screenplays commissioned by the Mountview Film Academy and film director Jonathan Wolff. His work can be found here - https://www.youtube.com/c/FixFilmsLtd Most recently Paul wrote, produced and directed his own short horror film called FLATMATES (2018). He has subsequently written and directed the films: MISDIRECTION (2019), TOLERANCE (2019) and YOU HAVE A NEW FOLLOWER (2020). His short films have had screenings worldwide at many film festivals. His latest works are the horror, INFERIS (2024), a set of short film monologues called SIN (2024) and THE SUICIDE SHIFT (2026). PAUL is a versatile and prolific writer with ideas in abundance and a very strong feel for structure, characterisation and dialogue. He favours thought-provoking and entertaining narratives with memorable characters, images and scenes. While he values all styles of film he tends toward genre movies as opposed to overtly "arty" cinema. Moreover, being involved in the producing, casting and crewing of low budget shorts has given him great experience and insight into the filmmaking process; improving his writing no end. From 2008 until 2020, Paul had been on the exciting merry-go-round that is the stand-up comedy circuit. He has done over 1000+ gigs. Venues included: Downstairs at the King's Head, The Comedy Pit, The Comedy Cafe, Soho Comedy, London Comedy Store, Electric Mouse Comedy, Streatham Comedy Club, Mirth Control, Comedy Heat, Lion's Den Comedy etc. He also ran two comedy nights: West End Comedy @ The Comedy Pub and West End Comedy @ The Brazen Head. He used to be the resident MC at Electric Mouse's show at The Fox, Palmers Green and got regular paid bookings as a comic and MC in and out of town. In 2014 and 2016 he performed at the Brighton Fringe Festival and Camden Fringe Festival in 2014. He performed open spots for the Banana Cabaret, The Comedy Store and Up the Creek comedy clubs in London. He is also a keen film and television seer and has a love for all genres of movies from art-house to low-budget z-movies. He also loves television of all kinds notably great comedies and dramas. He is an essayist expressing passionate analysis for all elements of cinema. Links Blog: www.thecinemafix.com YouTube: www.youtube.com/c/FixFilmsLtd
Articles, Reviews, Star Trek

To Boldly Review #16 – Star Trek: Enterprise (2001 – 2005) – Seasons 1-4

Leave a comment

To Boldly Review #16 – Star Trek: Enterprise (2001 – 2005) – Seasons 1-4

Created by Rick Berman & Brannon Braga

Based on Star Trek by Gene Roddenberry

Showrunners: Brannon Braga (2001-2004) & Manny Coto (2004-2005)

Production companies: Paramount Network Television, Braga Productions & Rick Berman Productions

Selected writers: Brannon Braga, Rick Berman, Manny Coto, Mike Sussman, Phyllis Strong, Judith Reeves-Stevens, Garfield Reeves-Stevens, André Bormanis, Chris Black, David A. Goodman, Fred Dekker, and more.

Selected directors: Roxann Dawson, LeVar Burton, Robert Duncan McNeill, Allan Kroeker, David Livingston, Winrich Kolbe, James L. Conway, Mike Vejar, Michael Grossman, Marita Grabiak, Brennan Spencer, Michael S. Watkins, Vincenzo Natali, and more.

Main cast: Scott Bakula, John Billingsley, Jolene Blalock, Dominic Keating, Anthony Montgomery, Linda Park, Connor Trinneer etc.

Notable guest actors: Jeffrey Combs, Vaughn Armstrong , Gary Graham, Matt Winston, Randy Oglesby, James Cromwell, Brent Spiner, Daniel Dae Kim, Fionnula Flanagan, Robert Picardo, Tony Todd, Bruce Davison, Seth MacFarlane, Steven Culp, Noa Tishby, Rene Auberjonois, Peter Weller, Dean Stockwell etc.

Composer(s): Dennis McCarthy, Jay Chattaway, Brian Tyler, John Frizzell, Mark McKenzie, David Bell, Velton Ray Bunch, Kevin Kiner &
Paul Baillargeon

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***

It’s been a while since I reviewed Star Trek on the site. But I have now finally completed the task I set myself to watch and review all the legacy Star Trek series. I am currently on the fence regarding the more recent Star Trek offerings. Anyway, having reviewed Voyager (see below) last year, I can now provide a detailed report back on Enterprise.

TO BOLDLY REVIEW #15 – STAR TREK: VOYAGER (1995 -2001) – SEASONS 1 – 7

Star Trek: Enterprise occupies a fascinating corner of the franchise’s sprawling canon. Set a century before Kirk and more than a century after humanity’s first steps into spaceflight, the series charts the formative years of Starfleet—before there even was a “Starfleet” in the sense fans recognize. Its premise alone is rich: a pre-Federation frontier where humanity is inexperienced, unsteady, and often outmatched, yet eager to join a much larger galactic community. In this sense, Enterprise is both a prologue and a missing link, retrofitting the swaggering optimism of The Original Series with a more grounded, early-21st-century sensibility.

The show’s commitment to exploring those transitional years is what secures its place in canon. Enterprise seeds the diplomacy, technology, and interspecies tensions that future shows build upon—from the first warp-5 engine, to early encounters with Vulcans, Andorians, and the ever-shadowy Temporal Cold War. Watching Captain Jonathan Archer and his crew stumble toward the ideals later embodied by the Federation gives the series a distinctive historical weight. It doesn’t merely fit into Star Trek continuity; it actively sculpts the bedrock beneath it.

Central to the show’s appeal is Scott Bakula, whose performance as Captain Archer blends warmth, stubbornness, and a palpable sense of moral growing pains. Bakula gives Archer a grounded humanity that stands apart from the polished command styles of Picard or the passionate Sisko, yet his sincerity and resolve make him every bit their equal. When the writing rises to meet his talent—as in standout episodes like “Cogenitor,” “The Andorian Incident,” “Carbon Creek,” or the Xindi arc’s best moments—the show can reach the emotional and thematic heights of The Original Series and The Next Generation.

But Enterprise is also a series defined by uneven execution. For every episode that lands with classic-Trek resonance, there are others hampered by muddled plotting, bland direction, or creative decisions that feel more reactive than visionary. The show often struggled to decide whether it wanted to be a rough-edged prequel, a 2000s-era action drama, or a traditional episodic Trek—frequently trying to be all three at once. While it contains genuinely excellent science-fiction storytelling, its overall writing and directorial cohesion never consistently matched the clarity, ambition, or confidence of its most celebrated predecessors.

Yet despite its flaws, Star Trek: Enterprise remains an essential and often underrated part of the canon—a show whose best moments remind us exactly why Trek endures, and whose imperfections make its aspirations feel all the more human. Here are eight of the best episodes I watched – two per series.

Series 1 – The Andorian Incident (Episode 7)

This episode is the first truly great hour of Enterprise—the point where the show proves it can handle nuanced political storytelling within the Trek universe. The introduction of Jeffrey Combs as Shran is a masterstroke; he immediately brings depth, wit, and volatility to the Andorians. The plot, centered on Archer and his crew discovering that a supposedly pacifist Vulcan monastery is hiding darker secrets, reshapes our understanding of Vulcan–Andorian tensions. Strong direction, tight pacing, and a morally thorny reveal make this the first episode that feels essential to larger Star Trek canon.

Series 1 – Dear Doctor (Episode 13)

A thoughtful, character-driven story told through Dr. Phlox’s personal logs, “Dear Doctor” represents Enterprise at its most philosophically ambitious. It confronts the ethics of medical intervention, cultural evolution, and the limits of humanitarian aid—classic Trek territory handled with sensitivity and restraint. John Billingsley delivers one of the best performances of the season, infusing Phlox with curiosity, compassion, and unsettling pragmatism. The episode’s controversial ending also resonates, sparking debate among fans and critics alike. It’s a quietly powerful hour that demonstrates the series’ potential for moral complexity.

Series 2 – Carbon Creek (Episode 2)

Widely regarded as the highlight of Season 2—and for many, the best Enterprise episode of its first two years—“Carbon Creek” is a charming, unexpectedly heartfelt detour into Trek history. Told by T’Pol as a possibly-true, possibly-mythic story, it follows a stranded Vulcan survey team living incognito in 1950s Pennsylvania. The fish-out-of-water premise is handled with warmth, humour, and subtle social commentary, while Jolene Blalock shines in a dual role that lets her explore a softer, more playful Vulcan persona. It’s imaginative, character-rich, and quietly profound—the kind of tonal experiment that pays off beautifully.

Series 2 – Regeneration – (Episode 23)

A tense, surprisingly effective prequel to The Next Generation’s Borg storyline, “Regeneration” threads a tricky needle: introducing Borg elements without breaking canon. The episode smartly uses the wreckage from Star Trek: First Contact as its entry point, turning the narrative into a chilling, atmospheric thriller. The direction is sharp, the pacing taut, and the danger feels unusually real for this era of Trek. The crew’s desperation—fighting an enemy they can’t possibly understand—creates some of the season’s most gripping moments. It’s both fan-pleasing and genuinely suspenseful.

Series 3 – Twilight – (Episode 8)

Often cited as the masterpiece of Season 3, “Twilight” is a time-bending character drama that blends emotional storytelling with classic Trek sci-fi ingenuity. When Archer becomes afflicted with a neurological condition that erases his short-term memory, the episode jumps forward into an alternate future where humanity has been nearly wiped out by the Xindi. What follows is a surprisingly intimate exploration of Archer and T’Pol’s relationship, played with sincerity and restraint by Scott Bakula and Jolene Blalock. The script balances tragedy, hope, and big ideas without feeling gimmicky. It’s moving, tightly written, and stands alongside the franchise’s finest “what-if” stories.

Series 3 – Azati Prime – (Episode 18)

“Azati Prime” is the moment Season 3’s slow-burn storytelling snaps into urgent, high-stakes clarity. The episode follows Archer’s attempted suicide mission to destroy the Xindi superweapon, giving Scott Bakula one of his strongest performances in the entire series. The moral weight is heavy, the action tense, and the pacing relentless. Crucially, this is where the Xindi cease being abstract antagonists and become three-dimensional political factions torn between fear and diplomacy. The episode’s final act—Enterprise under brutal assault—is among the most cinematic sequences the series ever produced, setting up the endgame of the season with real emotional gravity.

Series 4 – United – (Episode 13)

“United” is Enterprise finally fulfilling its prequel potential—showing the messy, reluctant, and hard-fought beginnings of what will eventually become the United Federation of Planets. The political maneuvering is smart and grounded, the Andorian–Tellarite tension is played with grit and humor, and Jeffrey Combs delivers another magnetic performance as Shran. The episode’s centerpiece—the Andorian duel where Archer must fight to prevent a larger war—is tense, dramatic, and deeply character-driven. It’s classic Trek diplomacy mixed with riveting conflict, all while pushing the franchise’s history forward in meaningful ways.

Series 4 – In a Mirror, Darkly – (Episodes 18–19)

One of the most stylish and purely fun stories Enterprise ever told, this two-parter fully embraces the decadent brutality of the Mirror Universe. The production team goes all-in: redesigned sets, re-imagined uniforms, a pulpy remixed title sequence, and a stunning recreation of the USS Defiant from The Original Series. The cast seems to relish the opportunity to play villainous, unhinged versions of their characters—especially Jolene Blalock and Connor Trinneer. Visually bold, lore-rich, and brimming with dark humour, “In a Mirror, Darkly” is a love letter to both TOS and long-time Trek fans.

Cinema, Reviews

Cinema Review: The Running Man (2025) – Edgar Wright – a decent cardio cinema workout that breaks into intermittent sprints!

1 Comment

Cinema Review: The Running Man (2025)

Directed by Edgar Wright

Screenplay by Michael Bacall & Edgar Wright – Based on The Running Man by Stephen King

Produced by Simon Kinberg, Nira Park & Edgar Wright

Main Cast: Glen Powell, William H. Macy, Lee Pace, Michael Cera, Emilia Jones, Daniel Ezra, Jayme Lawson, Sean Hayes, Colman Domingo and Josh Brolin, etc.

Cinematography by Chung-hoon Chung

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***

As a fan of Edgar Wright’s stylish, kinetic direction, the camp cult charm of the original Arnold Schwarzenegger 1980’s action romp, and of course Stephen King’s sharp literary concepts, I went into The Running Man (2025) with high hopes. The film certainly starts brilliantly where Wright unloads a barrage of inventive visual gags, flashy transitions, and razor-clean action choreography. The set-pieces are spectacular from the outset, and when the film is firing on all cylinders, it’s exactly the sort of propulsive, high-concept entertainment you’d expect from this creative cocktail.

It remains a fantastic concept with a near-future game-show rewarding contestants with great wealth as long as they survive a month on the run and are not killed by all manner of uber-mercenaries chasing them. But as a whole the script and tone never quite settle. As such, the film wavers between being a comedy-actioner and a revolutionary dystopic thriller. It can be both, but here the shifts feel abrupt and under-cooked. The last forty-five minutes and final act especially drag, weighed down by a new character who is introduced mainly to witness Richards (Glen Powell) strike back at his foes, without adding much thematic or emotional heft. Emilia Jones does okay but her character should’ve entered the story much earlier—ideally as one of the contestants—so her eventual role feels earned rather than tacked on.

Powell is solid, charming, and physically believable in the role, but he’s not (at least yet) a true blockbuster star—more a handsome, reliable leading actor as demonstrated in the excellent, Hit Man (2024). I couldn’t help but imagine someone like Lee Pace in the part. Instead he is playing the lead henchmen. Pace is an actor with the gravitas and presence to anchor the story’s darker undercurrents and sell the rebellion with more weight. Indeed, Pace, Michael Cera, Colman Domingo, and Josh Brolin bring depth and texture to The Running Man (2025), each grounding the film’s wild energy with sharply defined performances. Pace delivers charismatic menace, while the underused Cera adds an unexpected nervy humour that sharpens the satire. Domingo, as always, lends personality as the show host, and Brolin rounds it out with rugged corporate authority that makes the world feel dangerous.

Ultimately, even Wright’s trademark ADHD-fueled visual dynamism can’t fully rescue a script that overreaches in ambition. Thus, The Running Man (2025) could have been truly great if it had taken just a little more time to breathe—letting its world, its fears, and its people settle in before the chaos kicked off. Beneath the neon splatter and bombastic satire is a sharp idea about media, violence, voyeurism, and manipulation, but the film races past its own potential. With a touch more patience to build tension, deepen the stakes, and let us actually care about the characters caught in the spectacle, its dystopia might have hit harder, felt richer, and lingered longer after the credits rolled. Still, the craft and energy make it an intermittently thrilling ride—just one that needed sharper focus to become the definitive The Running Man (2025) adaptation fans were hoping for.

Mark: 7 out of 11

Cult Cinema, horror, Under-Rated Classics

Cult Film Review: Ms. 45 / Angel of Vengeance (1981) – a beautiful looking yet grisly exploitation classic!

Leave a comment

Cult Film Review: Ms. 45 / Angel of Vengeance (1981)

Directed by Abel Ferrara

Written by Nicholas St. John

Produced by: Richard Howorth, Mary Kane

Main cast: Zoë Tamerlis (Lund), Albert Sinkys, Steve Singer, Jack Thibeau, Peter Yellen, Darlene Stuto, Helen McGara etc.

Cinematography by James Momel

In its latest 4K restoration, Ms. 45—Abel Ferrara’s 1981 revenge thriller—has never looked more electrifying, or more disturbing. A stunning new rendering of Ferrara’s gritty vision, Ms. 45 showcases New York City in all its stark, seething chaos: a place of beautiful ugliness, where the streets pulse with danger, desperation, and decay. The film, originally shot on 16mm, feels both of its time and eerily timeless, especially now in ultra-high-definition, where every grainy detail of Ferrara’s oppressive, neon-lit streets shines in a raw, unapologetic manner.

At the heart of this urban nightmare is Thana (Zoë Lund, credited as Zoë Tamerlis), a mute seamstress whose world shatters after she is brutally assaulted by a man on her way home, then attacked again in her home. Her muteness is both a powerful thematic element and an artistic choice, amplifying her trauma, her rage, and her vengeance in a way that spoken words never could. Thana’s descent into violence is stark, visceral, and unrelenting, making her a strange kind of anti-hero in this world of moral decay. Ferrara’s direction is clinical, cold, and absolutely uncompromising—each frame holds a sharp, almost surgical precision, magnifying the madness of her mind and the city itself.

What truly elevates Ms. 45 beyond its genre limitations is the electric performance of Zoë Tamerlis/Lund. At just 17 years old when the film was made, Lund’s portrayal of Thana is nothing short of revelatory. She is the beating heart of this disturbing narrative, lighting up the screen with a fierce, magnetic presence that could have easily made her a Hollywood star—had the industry been ready for her. While many of the supporting cast either cannot act or over-act, Lund’s both vulnerable and terrifying, her expression often the only indication of her character’s state of mind. Her journey from victim to vengeful force is tragic, yet always compelling.

Had Lund chosen to pursue a more conventional career, she would likely have ascended to Hollywood’s A-list—her look was captivating, her screen presence undeniable—but the indie, underground scene was where she truly thrived. In Ms. 45, she is a tragic figure of youth lost to the violence of the world around her, and in the midst of it all, she shines, her performance capturing the raw, cathartic essence of a girl pushed too far. Further, Lund’s performance peaks in one of the most iconic sequences of the film—Thana’s nun fancy-dress shootout. Drenched in blood and surrounded by chaos, she dissects the partygoers in slow-motion with a terrifying calm, her eyes wide with cold sorrow. It’s a juxtaposition of innocence and savagery, like a child playing with fire and discovering its destructive power. Kudos to the deranged soundtrack here which really ramps up Ferrara’s nightmarish vision.

Ms. 45 is NOT a film for the faint of heart or the easily offended. It’s violent, raw, and unapologetically brutal, with moments that will leave you questioning your own reaction to Thana’s vengeful spree. There is something deeply primal about the film—the way it feeds off its viewers’ discomfort, forcing them to confront Thana’s rage. It’s a film that revels in its own madness, and yet somehow, Ferrara and Lund manage to make revenge feel like an art form. It’s as stylish as it is savage, as haunting as it is exhilarating.

In conclusion, Ms. 45 is a genre-defining thriller, a masterpiece of violent cinema that has lost none of its power with time. The 4K restoration is a perfect showcase for Ferrara’s vision, and Zoë Lund’s performance is a revelation—her beauty and intensity burn through the screen, making you wonder what might have been had she chosen a different path. But for those of us lucky enough to witness this film in all its gritty glory, it’s impossible not to see her as a true underground legend. Whether or not you’re ready for it, Ms. 45 is visceral, stylish, and uncompromising cinema—one that will stay with you long after the credits roll and that evil saxophone soundtrack beat fades out.

Mark: 9 out of 11

Cinema, New Releases, Oscar Bingo

Cinema Review: Bugonia (2025) – Lanthimos has a blast with this dark conspiracy-class-war-kidnap-comedy!

Leave a comment

Cinema Review: Bugonia (2025)

Directed by Yorgos Lanthimos

Screenplay by Will Tracy – Based on Save the Green Planet! (2003) by Jang Joon-hwan

Produced by Ed Guiney, Andrew Lowe, Yorgos Lanthimos, Emma Stone, Ari Aster, Lars Knudsen, Miky Lee, Jerry Kyoungboum Ko

Main Cast: Emma Stone, Jesse Plemons, Aidan Delbis, Stavros Halkias, Alicia Silverstone, etc.

Cinematography by Robbie Ryan

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***

Yorgos Lanthimos has once again sneaked out of his uncanny terrarium and unleashed another piece of beautifully deranged cinema. Bugonia (2025)—a remake of Jang Joon-hwan’s cult classic Save the Green Planet!—is part sci-fi fever dream, part hostage farce, and part spiritual meltdown. It’s like Ruthless People (1986) got trapped in a socio-political, beekeeping suit and force-fed ayahuasca.

Will Tracy’s script hums with the manic energy of someone who’s read too many conspiracy subreddits and decided to turn it into Oscar bait. The film pairs Jesse Plemons (whose face seems genetically engineered for moral unease) with Alden Delbis (playing his twitchy, Kool-Aid-eyed partner in cosmic delusion) as two eco-anarchist truthers who kidnap a pharma/tech CEO, played with imperial chill by Emma Stone. Their reasoning? Well, just wait and see. It is incredibly crazy with some severe plot turns. Yet, somehow Lanthimos and his terrific cast maintain verisimilitude within the setting and just about hang onto emotional connection for the characters.

What follows is a deranged pas de trois of torture, empathy, and total philosophical collapse. Plemons and Delbis interrogate Stone with the intensity of people who’ve seen too many YouTube conspiracy documentaries, while Lanthimos and cinematographer, Robbie Ryan shoot it with the intensity of a nature documentary directed by Lucifer. There are bees. There is honey. There are monologues about pollution, pharmaceutical company threat and environmental collapse. Further, Stone, who has now fully ascended into Lanthimos’ personal pantheon of holy weirdness, plays her role like a woman being both worshipped and flayed at the same time. She’s terrifyingly serene—like she’s founded a doomsday cult and smiled through the apocalypse.

It’s all utterly ridiculous, but Bugonia (2025) thrives in that space between laughter and dread. Lanthimos once again proves that absurdism isn’t about nonsense—it’s that nonsense is the only sane response to the modern world. I enjoyed this film way more than the obtuse Kinds of Kindness (2024). It has more akin, although not as devastatingly memorable, as his earlier Greek-language classics or The Killing of a Sacred Deer (2017). Moreover, if The Favourite (2018) was about power, and Poor Things (2024) was about rebirth, Bugonia (2025) is bleak, fatalistic morality tale about environmental apocalypse.

By the time the film’s final shots roll I was equal parts horrified, moved, and deeply amused. It’s an eco-horror-comedy that gorily plays like Saw (2004) meets famous beekeeping philosopher, Aristotle. Overall, Bugonia (2025) proves once again that Yorgos Lanthimos is cinema’s reigning apiarist of absurdity—and his audience are all his buzzing little drones.

Mark 8.5 out of 11

Cinema, Cult Cinema, Nickel Cinema

Cult Film Review: Entertainment (2015) at The Nickel Cinema, London

Leave a comment

Cult Film Review: Entertainment (2015) at The Nickel Cinema

The Nickel Cinema in Clerkenwell feels like a hidden temple for London’s true film obsessives — a grindhouse gem tucked into the city’s polished heart. It’s the kind of place where the air hums with cigarette ghosts and celluloid dreams, where the screen flickers with everything from outlaw art films to midnight slashers and sleazy euro-thrillers. The décor has that lived-in, clandestine vibe — red velvet worn thin, neon bleeding through the dark, and an underground bar serving the kind of cocktails that taste like trouble.

It’s not just a cinema — it’s a refuge for the subversive, the cultish, the weird and the wonderful. You’ll find Anger next to Fassbinder, Fulci, Lynch, Jodorowsky, Korine, Ferrara, Argento, Waters, Kern, Miike, Ferrara, Korine Noe, Cohen, Breillat, Refn and many more bleeding into audiences who actually cheer when the projector rattles. The Nickel doesn’t chase trends; it worships the offbeat, the forgotten, and the dangerous. While feeling still quite new, the place somehow still feels gloriously dirty — and absolutely right up your alley. If not there is a strip club next door if that kind of business takes your fancy.

Check out their website for the latest screenings here: https://thenickel.co.uk/

Last month I watched Rick Alverson’s Entertainment (2015) at The Nickel Cinema.

Entertainment is like watching the American dream rot in real time — a hypnotic, desolate odyssey through the dust and despair of the open road. Gregg Turkington is excellent as he plays “The Comedian,” a hollowed-out version of his Neil Hamburger persona, trudging through a series of soul-scorching stand-up gigs in half-empty bars, bowling alleys, and desert motels. Each performance is a small act of self-immolation — jokes that fall flat, laughter that curdles, a man dissolving behind the microphone as his identity blurs into the toxic sludge of showbiz delusion.

Director Rick Alverson shoots it all with a slow, clinical beauty — wide, frozen frames that turn America’s forgotten corners into alien landscapes. “The Comedian” drifts from neon-soaked diners to sulfurous desert plains, to prisons, to dead Western towns. Further, it contains some incredible locations including an unforgettable sequence at an aircraft graveyard — rows of dead machines basking in the sun, like monuments to ambition and decay. While low in budget the film makes use of such stunning locales, plus impactful acting interludes from John C. Reilly, Michael Cera and Tye Sheridan.

The film is not a comedy, not really — more anti-comedy or like an autopsy of one. Entertainment (2015) is a brutal, mesmeric study of loneliness, alienation, and the sick joke at the heart of performance itself. It’s the road movie as existential purgatory — unbearably awkward, strangely poetic, and utterly unforgettable. It doesn’t so much as have a beginning, middle and end, but a series of events which we are dropped into and experience until the credits suddenly roll. I like to ponder “The Comedian” is still out there, living and dying, on and off stage.

Mark: 8 out of 11

Articles, horror, Reviews

Halloween Review Special: Werewolf Films – Part #2

Leave a comment

Halloween Review Special: Werewolf Films – Part #2

Happy Halloween again! Part 1 of my Werewolf film reviews can be found here on this link. So, on with Part #2 with all films marked out of 11!

*** CONTAINS SPOILERS ***

Ginger Snaps (2000)

Ginger Snaps (2000) is a rare and refreshing take on the werewolf myth, shifting the focus to the female experience with wit and bite. As the awkward Bridget, Emily Perkins gives a wonderfully grounded performance, desperately trying to save her sister Ginger after a fateful wolf attack. Cleverly linking the lunar and menstrual cycles, the film transforms body horror into a sharp coming-of-age allegory. Smart, sexy, and darkly funny, it’s packed with gallows humour, fantastic gore, and a subversive energy that makes it one of the standout horror films of its era. Mark: 9 out of 11

Howl (2015)

Howl (2015) is an underrated British werewolf gem that feels like Dog Soldiers (2002) set on a train — claustrophobic, gritty, and laced with dark humour. Ed Speleers plays a weary, beta-male guard whose routine night shift derails into a fight for survival when the train breaks down in the woods. As tensions rise among the stranded passengers, he’s forced to find his courage against something far more terrifying than “leaves on the line.” Mark: 8.5 out of 11

The Howling (1981)

Joe Dante’s The Howling (1981) may now feel almost plotless in retrospect, but it remains a deliriously inventive slice of horror cinema. The film thrives on unforgettable set-pieces and grotesque energy — from a chillingly unrecognisable Robert Picardo as the predatory Eddie Quist to Elisabeth Brooks’ hypnotic, sensual menace. Dee Wallace delivers a strong turn as the quintessential scream queen, leading to an unintentionally funny change at the end, while Rob Bottin’s groundbreaking transformation effects still stand among the genre’s finest. Mark: 8 out of 11

Red Riding Hood (2011)

A messy yet oddly entertaining blend of Twilight-style romance, fairy-tale gothic, and werewolf whodunnit. Amanda Seyfried glows at the center of the melodrama, giving the film more heart than it deserves, while Gary Oldman chews through his lines — and the scenery — with the gusto of a man earning a very comfortable Hollywood paycheck. Mark: 5.5 out of 11

Silver Bullet (1985)

Silver Bullet (1985) carries many of the familiar hallmarks of Stephen King’s storytelling — small-town paranoia, moral rot beneath the surface, and a sense of homespun Americana under siege — but lacks the sharpness of stronger King adaptations. While it holds a nostalgic charm for 1980’s horror fans, thanks to its mix of pulp, sentimentality, Gary Busey-on-butane, and Corey Haim’s spirited performance, it’s far from essential and not one of my go-to werewolf films. Mark 6.5 out of 11

Teen Wolf (1985)

I’m ashamed to admit I’d never seen Teen Wolf (1985) until now — but it’s a charming coming-of-age comedy that finds Michael J. Fox as Scott Howard, a teenager who discovers a very hairy family secret. Scott juggles puberty, romance, bullies, and basketball glory. The adults are enjoyably eccentric, but it’s James Hampton as Scott’s warm, understanding father who grounds the film with genuine heart. Mark 7 out of 11

Werewolves (2024)

Werewolves (2024) boasts an intriguing premise — scientists racing to cure humanity of a wolf-mutant virus unleashed under a supermoon — and delivers plenty of muscular action-horror energy. Frank Grillo anchors the nocturnal mayhem with his trademark grit, like a U.S. Statham. It’s entertaining, but the world-building feels rushed, as if we’ve dropped into the sequel to an origin story that doesn’t exist yet. Mark 6 out of 11

Werewolves: The Beast Amongst Us (2012)

Werewolves: The Beast Amongst Us (2012) is an entertaining but clearly made-for-TV creature feature that feels like a bargain-bin mashup of Stephen Sommers’ The Mummy and Van Helsing — all gothic flair and monster mayhem, but without the budget, stars, or polish. Still, its pulpy enthusiasm and old-school monster-hunting energy make it a mildly fun watch for fans of B-movie beast action. Mark 6 out of 11

Werewolves Within (2021)

Werewolves Within (2021) has a sharp, witty script packed with humour and clever twists, but its over-the-top direction and eccentric ensemble make it hard to fully connect with. Sam Richardson shines as the affable Forest Ranger caught amid a group of oddball townsfolk — and a monster on the loose. Fast-paced, funny, and gory, it plays like Tremors set in the snow — just without the magic that made that classic so effortlessly great. Mark 7 out of 11

Wolf (1994)

Wolf (1994) suffers from an under cooked corporate-werewolf concept that never quite decides if it wants to be a horror film, a romance, or a satire — and ends up failing at all three. Jack Nicholson and Michelle Pfeiffer, both usually magnetic, seem oddly disengaged under Mike Nichols’ overly restrained direction. The film has flashes of intrigue and style, but it lacks bite; James Spader, simmering with sleaze and menace, could have stolen the show if only he’d been let off the leash. Mark: 6 out of 11

Wolfcop (2014)

WolfCop (2014) is a gloriously bonkers B-movie romp about an alcoholic small-town cop, Lou Garou (Leo Fafard), who becomes a werewolf and stumbles into a plot of witchcraft and sacrifice. Director Lowell Dean brings wild energy and gleeful chaos to the mix, delivering gory action and sharp humor that far outshine the film’s modest budget. It’s ridiculous, rowdy, and an absolute blast from start to finish. Mark: 7.5 out of 11

The Wolf Man (2010)

The Wolfman (2010) is a stylish, brooding gothic remake elevated by Rick Baker’s stunning creature effects and an atmosphere dripping with fog, blood, and tragedy. On rewatch, it’s far more enjoyable than it first seemed, with Benicio Del Toro and Emily Blunt grounding the film’s emotional heart while Anthony Hopkins bellows through his expositional monologues with Shakespearean gravitas. The production design, lighting, and Danny Elfman’s sweeping score are all superb, but the film’s flaws are clear — studio meddling and re-shoots leave the opening character setup feeling rushed and the narrative uneven, hinting at a richer version lost to the editing room. Mark: 7 out of 11

Wolf Man (2025)

For fans of Upgrade (2018) and The Invisible Man (2020), Wolf Man may feel like a missed opportunity. Those films balanced high-concept storytelling with sharp social commentary, whereas Leigh Whannell’s latest effort feels more like a half-formed howl in the night. See my full review here. Mark: 6.5 out of 11

The Wolf of Snow Hollow (2020)

The Wolf of Snow Hollow (2020) delivers an effective monster story filtered through Jim Cummings’ uniquely neurotic, darkly comedic lens. Cummings stars as a frazzled small-town cop juggling alcoholism, a dementia-stricken father, and a teenage daughter — all while a vicious creature tears through the community. It’s an offbeat, entertaining indie horror with sharp writing, emotional bite, and a fantastic twist buried in the chaotic narrative pile-up of its finale. Mark 8 out of 11

The Wolfman (1941) / Frankenstein meets The Wolfman (1943)

Lon Chaney Jr. has always been my favorite tragic werewolf — a figure of deep sadness and empathy rather than pure monstrosity. I grew up watching those classic Universal horror films, and his portrayal of Larry Talbot still resonates as one of cinema’s most heartbreaking depictions of the cursed outsider. There’s a weary humanity to Chaney’s performance, a sense of a man doomed to repeat his suffering under the full moon, forever torn between guilt and fate.

While the scripts in those early Wolf Man films are often simple and melodramatic, their emotional weight endures thanks to Chaney’s sincerity and Jack Pierce’s groundbreaking makeup effects. Pierce’s work transformed the genre, creating an iconic design that remains unmatched in its tactile, hand-crafted artistry. Together, Chaney and Pierce gave the werewolf myth its soul — one that was less about savagery, and more about the tragedy of being human within a cursed lunar cycle. Mark: 9 out of 11



Articles, horror, Reviews

Halloween Review Special: Werewolf Films – Part #1

1 Comment

Halloween Review Special: Werewolf Films – Part #1

Happy Halloween! As loyal readers of this blog will know I am a massive horror film fan. Therefore I have focused August’s viewing on the Werewolf sub-genre and present some short reviews of some of my favourites and some not so good. As usual all marked out of 11!

Werewolf films have long captivated both filmmakers and audiences because they tap into primal fears and psychological complexities that transcend genre. At their core, these stories explore the theme of transformation—both physical and psychological—which resonates deeply with viewers. The metamorphosis from human to beast is not just a spectacle of horror; it’s a metaphor for the loss of control, the unleashing of suppressed desires, and the tension between civilization and instinct. This duality offers rich narrative terrain for directors and screenwriters to explore identity, morality, and the boundaries of human nature.

Psychologically, the werewolf embodies the Freudian concept of the id—the raw, instinctual part of the psyche driven by aggression and desire. The human persona represents the ego, trying to mediate between the id and the constraints of society, or the superego. When the transformation occurs, the id overwhelms the ego, resulting in violent, animalistic behavior that defies social norms. This internal conflict is dramatized through the werewolf’s struggle to reconcile their human conscience with their monstrous impulses, making the character both terrifying and tragically relatable.

The tension between animal and human also reflects broader cultural anxieties. Werewolf films often surface during times of social upheaval, when questions about identity, repression, and conformity are especially potent. The creature’s split identity—man or woman by day, beast by night—mirrors the psychological fragmentation many experience in modern life. For filmmakers, this duality offers a visual and thematic playground: the grotesque transformation scenes, the haunting aftermath, and the moral ambiguity of the protagonist all contribute to a compelling cinematic experience. For audiences, the werewolf is not just a monster—it’s a mirror, reflecting the parts of ourselves we fear, repress, and sometimes secretly crave to unleash.

American Werewolf in London (1981)

One of the greatest lycanthrope films of all time. Full of iconic scenes, scares, gore, jokes, sex and an incredible lunar-inspired soundtrack. John Landis, in a directorial purple patch at the time, managed to combine horror, comedy, mystery and a moving love story to memorable impact. Rick Baker’s make-up effects literally transformed further the art and craft of practical special effects going forward. Mark: 10 out of 11

Bad Moon (1996)

Truly dreadful film with a script that fails on most levels, notably logic. The beast is not only the werewolf in the guise of Michael Paré’s Uncle Ted, but also toxic masculinity. Single mum, Mariel Hemingway and her son spend most of the film failing to guess who the big bad wolf is until it is nearly too late. Mark: 3 out of 11

The Beast Must Die (1974)

So bad it’s almost good! The British studio, Amicus Productions, wolf-dunnit, even has the audience take a “werewolf break” where they get 30-seconds to work out who the monster is. Calvin Lockhart, Michael Gambon, and Tom Chadbon et al chew up the scenery, washing it down with bloody terrible effects. The budget was so low they had to use German Shepherd’s with mock fur as the werewolves. Mark 6 out of 11.

The Company of Wolves (1984)

Neil Jordan’s artful adaptation of Angela Carter’s short stories is a richly atmospheric triumph of mood. Though the film’s episodic structure and bookending narrative can feel a touch uneven, Jordan’s poetic direction and Carter’s dreamlike sensibility merge into something intoxicatingly strange. An excellent ensemble of character actors brings the fable-like vignettes to life, with Angela Lansbury delivering a particularly commanding and memorable turn. Mark 8 out of 11

Cursed (2005)

Wes Craven’s 2005 film The Cursed is a case where the behind-the-scenes turmoil proves far more frightening than the movie itself. A troubled production that saw Craven effectively abandon ship midway through, and it bears the scars of hasty reshoots and studio meddling. What emerges is a patchy, uneven werewolf tale with flashes of potential buried beneath the chaos. Still, a young Jesse Eisenberg lends surprising depth to the material, offering a glimpse of quality amid the hairy dross. Mark: 4 out of 11

The Cursed (2021)

Sean Ellis’s The Cursed (2021) delivers a potent blend of gothic grandeur and visceral horror, transforming familiar werewolf and Gypsy tropes into something deeply atmospheric and unsettling. With its striking visuals, meticulous period detail, and haunting score, the film conjures an eerie, painterly world where the sins of the past literally come back to bite. Beneath the blood and fog lies a thoughtful allegory about greed and the gentry’s theft of land, lending the stylish horror a surprising moral weight and emotional resonance. Mark: 8 out of 11

The Curse of the Werewolf (1961)

Hammer’s The Curse of the Werewolf (1961), is anchored by a powerful, brooding performance from Oliver Reed in his breakout role. A staple of my childhood viewing, it’s a film that surprises with its thoughtful set-up—using its Spanish setting to critique class divisions while evoking real empathy for Reed’s tragic, cursed Wolfman. The gothic atmosphere and emotional depth elevate it above typical monster fare, and Warren Mitchell’s turn as a Spanish watchman adds an unexpected and delightful touch of humour amid the savage murders. Mark: 7.5 out of 11

Dog Soldiers (2002)

Neil Marshall’s Dog Soldiers (2002) is an absolute gem of British horror and easily one of my favourites of the genre. Set in the misty isolation of the Scottish Highlands, it combines gritty military camaraderie with ferocious werewolf mayhem to brilliant effect. Kevin McKidd, Sean Pertwee, and Liam Cunningham are all superb, grounding the film with sharp performances that balance humour, heart, and genuine terror. Funny, moving, bloody, and properly scary, Dog Soldiers is a masterclass in doing a lot with a little—its creature effects and atmosphere are astonishing given the budget. A true modern classic that respects the genre with intelligently terrifying monsters and the film still howls with lunar power. Mark: 10 out of 11

To be continued. . .

Cinema, Oscar Bingo, Reviews

Cinema Review: After the Hunt (2025) – a compelling exploration of #MeToo and #Cancel Culture polemics!

Leave a comment

Cinema Review: After the Hunt (2025)

Directed by Luca Guadagnino

Written by: Nora Garrett

Produced by: Brian Grazer, Allan Mandelbaum, Luca Guadagnino

Main Cast: Julia Roberts, Ayo Edebiri, Andrew Garfield, Michael Stuhlbarg, Chloë Sevigny, Thaddea Graham, etc.

Cinematography Malik Hassan Sayeed

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***

After the Hunt (2025), the latest work from Luca Guadagnino, further cements the director’s reputation as one of contemporary cinema’s most assured chroniclers of morally fraught, emotionally layered human drama. Having already proven his commanding directorial touch with Call Me by Your Name (2017) and Challengers (2024), plus a superior-than-the-original Suspiria (2018), Guadagnino again, from an insightful screenplay by Nora Garrett, demonstrates an uncanny ability to draw out great performances and create a sense of first world suspense that feels both sensual and cerebral.

Set within the hallowed halls of Yale University, After the Hunt (2025) delves into the ramifications of power, privilege, and academic integrity when allegations of sexual assault surface against a lauded professor, played by Andrew Garfield. The film positions itself within a lineage of stories interrogating abuses of power within established and esteemed hierarchies — in much the same way that Doubt (2008) examined such tensions within the church, and Tár (2022) explored them in the rarefied world of classical music. Guadagnino’s film strives for a similar level of psychological and thematic complexity, exploring how institutional prestige and human frailties often shield misconduct and complicity.

The main drama arrives after a dinner party hosted by philosophy professor Alma Imhoff (Julia Roberts) and her psychiatrist husband, Frederik Imhoff (Michael Stuhlbarg). Also present at the party are Alma’s colleague and longtime friend Hank Gibson (Andrew Garfield), who is also up for tenure, and Alma’s star PhD student Maggie Resnick (Ayo Edebiri). After the party, Maggie accuses a drunken Hank of sexual assault after he walks her home. Alma finds herself caught between loyalty to her friend and colleague, her own desire for academic tenure and her obligation as mentor to Maggie. Meanwhile, Alma’s own secrets—her illness and a youthful relationship situation that occurred as a teenager—begin to surface.

What follows is an intriguing and quite gripping drama about a series of flawed characters who may or may not make, depending on your viewpoint, good, bad, or terrible decisions. The acting is absorbing from the ensemble led by Roberts, with Stuhlbarg and Chloe Sevigny being the resident scene stealers. I frequently found myself drawn into the story as it navigates socially and culturally challenging situations, notably the “she said-he said” assault accusation and aftermath. However, the screenplay occasionally falters, particularly in its middle act. Thus despite the thematic suspense the plot omission such as a lack of criminal enquiry, plus the moment in which Garfield’s character is abruptly dismissed without any formal inquiry undercuts the film’s credibility and emotional momentum. For a story concerned with systems of accountability and institutional procedure, this narrative oversight was difficult for me to overlook.

Even so, After the Hunt (2025) remains an engrossing and well-crafted drama that showcases Guadagnino’s continuing fascination with human pride, weakness and moral ambiguity. Adroitly, there are a number of cheeky nods to cancel culture with the Woody Allen font-style credits and Morrissey / The Smiths songs featuring on the soundtrack. Yet, overall, and perhaps due to a lack of a cathartic ending, the story may have worked better as a stage play. Ultimately, it may not wield the same searing power as Doubt (2008) or Tár (2022), but it stands as another testament to Guadagnino’s skill as a go-to director for mature, provocative, and emotionally intelligent cinema.

Mark: 7 out of 11

Cinema, Reviews

Cinema Review: Him (2025) – find blood, sweat, and meltdowns galore in this visceral NFL thriller!

Leave a comment

Cinema Review: Him (2025)

Directed by Justin Tipping

Written by Skip Bronkie, Zack Akers & Justin Tipping

Produced by Jordan Peele, Win Rosenfeld, Ian Cooper & Jamal Watson

Main cast: Marlon Wayans, Tyriq Withers, Julia Fox, Tim Heidecker, Jim Jeffries, Maurice Greene etc.

Cinematography by Kira Kelly

** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS **

“In modern slang, “Him” is used to signify a person who is considered a standout or a “star” in their field, often in sports or entertainment.” — Google search result.

Him (2025) is a visually arresting and thematically potent descent into the underbelly of American athletic obsession — a pitch-black thriller that trades stadium lights for the strobe of psychological torment. Centered on Cameron “Cam” Cade, a young quarterback hungry to dethrone San Antonio Saviors’ reigning legend Isaiah White (a commanding Marlon Wayans), the film begins as a standard sports drama and swiftly morphs into something far darker. Director Justin Tipping captures the suffocating intensity of modern competition with a painter’s eye — sweat, blood, and neon collide in every frame, turning locker rooms and training fields into cathedrals of self-destruction.

As Cam endures Isaiah’s brutal “boot camp,” the film exposes the rot beneath the rhetoric of greatness. Fear, humiliation, and violence dominate the regimen, transforming mentorship into a form of ritualized hazing. Themes of steroid abuse, distorted masculinity, and father-son guilt weave through the story like poison veins. The omnipresence of social media — the constant surveillance, the demand for curated perfection — amplifies the claustrophobia. In its best moments, Him (2025) feels like a nightmarish hallucination of ambition, where performance and identity blur until nothing human remains.

Yet for all its kinetic power and aesthetic daring, Him (2025) stumbles when it comes to coherence. The screenplay rushes through emotional beats, failing to give its characters space to breathe or evolve. Key relationships and motivations are truncated by editing that favours rapid cuts over logic — the film’s pulse races, but its heart falters. The result is an experience that dazzles visually but feels narratively hollow, more like a hypnotic music video than a fully realized character study. Indeed, the ending drops the ball most of all. The nightmarish satire culminates in a bloodbath which, while visually powerful, feels like something more twisted and subtle would have served Cam’s character arc better.

Overall, there’s no denying Him (2025) and its impact as a cinematic spectacle, with Wayans and Withers delivering standout performances. Its imagery lingers — bodies breaking under fluorescent light, cheers warping into screams — as does its commentary on the performative nature of modern masculinity, crazy fan worship, monetization of athletes and sporting sacrifice. If only the script matched its visuals, Him (2025), might have stood shoulder to shoulder with the psychological thrillers it so clearly reveres.

Mark: 6.5 out of 11

Cinema, Reviews

Apple TV+ Film Review: Highest 2 Lowest (2025) – a vibrant, musical and pacy, if unnecessary, remake.

Leave a comment

Apple TV+ Film Review: Highest 2 Lowest (2025)

Directed by Spike Lee

Screenplay by Alan Fox

Based on High and Low (1963 film) by Akira Kurosawa, Hideo Oguni,
Ryūzō Kikushima, Eijirō Hisaita, and King’s Ransom (1959 novel) by Ed McBain.

Produced by Todd Black and Jason Michael Berman

Main cast: Denzel Washington, Jeffrey Wright, Ilfenesh Hadera, ASAP Rocky, John Douglas Thompson , Dean Winters, LaChanze, Aubrey Joseph, etc.

Cinematography by Matthew Libatique

Spike Lee’s Highest 2 Lowest (2025) is a kinetic, vividly modern reimagining of Akira Kurosawa’s High and Low (1963), transplanting the Japanese master’s class-conscious thriller into the bustling, chaotic pulse of contemporary New York City. As expected from Lee, the film bursts with visual flair and political verve — the camera rarely rests, and the city itself becomes a character, glowing with heat, colour, and tension. The streets hum with energy, from glassy penthouses to subway platforms, creating a dynamic canvas on which the moral dilemmas unfold.

Denzel Washington, as usual, delivers a commanding performance as David King, a renowned independent producer and record label owner, torn between his conscience and his ambition when the kidnapping of his son occurs. Washington captures both the quiet torment and moral exhaustion of a man staring down the gulf between his privilege and his humanity. Jeffrey Wright, offers great support as his friend and chauffeur. The narrative navigates class and corporate tensions, bringing a soulful intelligence to every scene, grounding the film’s intensity with empathy and authority.

The film moves at a thrilling pace, carried by a propulsive soundtrack that fuses hip-hop, jazz, and gospel with Lee’s trademark flair for musical storytelling. Nowhere is this energy more palpable than in the ransom handover sequence — a masterclass in direction and editing — cutting feverishly across New York’s boroughs and metro trains, while the Puerto Rican Day Parade swells in a euphoric, near-operatic crescendo. It’s a breathtaking montage that exemplifies Lee’s command of rhythm, geography, and social texture. It proves to be Highest 2 Lowest (2025)’s biggest high.

Where Highest 2 Lowest (2025) falters is in the handling of its central moral crisis, which in turns undermines the all-to-rapid ending too. Indeed, it seemed to be missing a betrayal twist for me. The decision David King must make — the film’s spiritual core — arrives and resolves too swiftly around the midpoint, leaving the second half conflict, after the exhilarating Puerto Rican Day Parade, more focused on wrapping up loose ends quickly than psychological reckoning. It’s a missed opportunity for the deeper character study that Kurosawa’s original sustained so brilliantly.

Still, as an adaptation, Lee’s film is an entertaining piece of work — bold, stylish, and alive with the contradictions of the modern city. While Kurosawa’s High and Low (1963) remains the more compelling exploration of social class and moral responsibility, Highest 2 Lowest (2025) finds its own voice: vibrant, urgent, and unmistakably Spike Lee.

Mark: 7 out of 11