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
The Romford Horror Film Festival in Essex has quickly become a key destination for both emerging and established voices in horror cinema. With a mission to champion independent filmmaking talent, the festival provides a crucial platform for new directors, writers, and producers to showcase their work to enthusiastic audiences and industry professionals.
One of the festival’s standout features is its dedication to fresh, original horror storytelling. By curating a diverse lineup of indie horror shorts and feature films, the event serves as a launchpad for up-and-coming talent, offering them exposure, networking opportunities, and even awards that can propel their careers forward. The festival frequently hosts Q&A sessions, panel discussions, and filmmaker meetups, giving creatives a chance to engage directly with fans and industry insiders.
Alongside its celebration of new talent, the Romford Horror Film Festival also pays tribute to the classics of the genre. Screenings of beloved horror films from the past ensure that attendees not only experience the latest innovations in horror filmmaking but also gain an appreciation for the genre’s deep roots. By blending the past and future of horror, the festival fosters a sense of community among horror enthusiasts, creating an environment where cinephiles, filmmakers, and genre veterans can connect.
I attended on the Saturday and watched my short film Inferis (2024), plus a stream of other amazing short films. I then got to see Lucio Fulci’s gore classic, Zombie Flesh Eaters (1979) on the big screen. A very entertaining Q & A featuring cast members including Ian McCulloch followed. The programme also contained several more Fulci horrors,Threads (1984), The Evil Dead (1981), Metropolis (1927), Man Bites Dog (1992), Razor Blade Smile (1998) and many other vintage classics alongside the best of new indie releases. If you love horror films then check out their website for future events here!
Produced by James Wan, Dave Caplan, Brian Kavanaugh-Jones, Chris Ferguson, etc. Main Cast: Theo James, Tatiana Maslany, Christian Convery, Colin O’Brien, Rohan Campbell, Sarah Levy, Adam Scott and Elijah Wood.
Cinematography by Nico Aguilar
Following the financial success of his 2024 psychological thriller Longlegs (2024), Osgood Perkins has recently embarked on adapting Stephen King’s short story, The Monkey, into a feature film. While I didn’t quite connect with it Longlegs (2024) it had many impressed with its strange, atmospheric tension as well as Nic Cage’s crazy look and performance. The Monkey (2025), differs in tone though as it this adaptation with a blends horror and dark comedy, allowing Perkins to showcase his versatility as a filmmaker.
The narrative of The Monkey (2025) centres on twin brothers, portrayed by Theo James, who encounter a cursed toy monkey linked to a series of gruesome deaths. Perkins expands upon King’s original short story, infusing it with themes of family, fatherhood, reconciliation and a litany of grisly sudden deaths. Having found the simian death totem as teenagers, Hal and Bill Shelburn find their lives and those around them impacted in the most bloody explosive of ways. Indeed, there is much thought and planning given to these Saw and Final Destinationfranchise influenced on-screen set-pieces. In fact, the exquisite surprise and laugh-out-loud hilarity which occur throughout somewhat overpowers any emotional connection with the thinly-written protagonists.
The film’s gore and relentless pace are undeniably its strongest assets — the kills are extreme, inventive, and staged with a gleeful disregard for realism, echoing the chaotic energy of ’80s horror comedies. Each death sequence feels like a miniature horror short, packed with practical effects and over-the-top carnage. Perkins crafts these moments with a twisted sense of humour, making the film feel like a sketch-show carousel of nightmarish vignettes, each more outrageous than the last.
However, despite the visceral fun, The Monkey (2025) struggles to leave a lasting impression. Unlike the original Saw (2004) by James Wan and Leigh Whannell — a film that balanced its brutal horror with sharp social commentary and tightly woven mythology — Perkins’ adaptation lacks a deeper foundation. The cursed toy monkey serves as a simple harbinger of death, but the film never establishes consistent rules for how the curse operates or why it escalates the way it does. Without clear internal logic or meaningful subtext, the horror loses weight, and the emotional stakes fizzle.
While The Monkey (2025) succeeds as a frenetic, blood-soaked thrill ride, it ultimately feels ephemeral. The film’s surface-level scares and comedic flair make for an entertaining watch, but the absence of narrative substance or thematic resonance leaves it as little more than a fleeting novelty — a film you enjoy in the moment, but rarely think about after the credits roll.
Produced by Maria Carlota Bruno, Rodrigo Teixeira and Martine de Clermont-Tonnerre
Main cast: Fernanda Torres, Selton Mello, Fernanda Montenegro, Valentina Herszage, Luiza Kosovski, Barbara Luz, etc.
Cinematography by Adrian Teijido
*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***
On March 31, 1964, the Brazilian military, with support from the United States and segments of the civilian population, overthrew the government of President João Goulart in a coup d’état. Goulart, a left-wing president who had been in power since 1961, faced rising opposition due to his policies that included land reforms and more progressive labour laws. These policies alarmed conservative sectors of society, including the military, business elites, and parts of the middle class, who for many feared the spread of communism in the context of the Cold War. From reports I have read, the military’s move was framed as a necessity to prevent Brazil from descending into a left-wing revolution, but the coup marked the beginning of a brutal 21-year period of military dictatorship. Be careful what you wish for.
Under the military regime (1964–1985), Brazil saw widespread censorship, repression of political dissidents, the establishment of a climate of fear, and the use of torture against suspected leftist militants and activists. The military government justified its actions as necessary to combat communist insurgency, but its reign was characterised by systematic violations of human rights. The regime implemented institutional acts that curtailed democratic freedoms, silenced political opposition, and controlled the media, all while claiming to defend the country from Marxism. The dictatorship lasted until 1985, ending when the military handed power back to a civilian government, but the effects of this period are still deeply felt in Brazilian society, as many families continue to search for the truth about the victims of torture and forced disappearances during the dictatorship.
Yet, while the film may not explicitly focus on the 1964 coup or the military dictatorship. I’m Still Here (2024) addresses the aftermath and themes of identity, resistance, and survival in the face of oppressive systems. Director, Walter Salles, uses the personal as a lens through which broader social and political issues are explored. One could consider how the legacy of fear, control, and the impact of a regime still reverberates in contemporary Brazil.
In I’m Still Here (2024), the filmmakers take a distinctive approach to the thriller genre by moving away from the typical tropes associated with suspense-driven narratives. Instead of focusing primarily on action or a series of dramatic plot twists, the film shifts its attention toward a more intimate, personal, and familial story. There is suspense and tension, but it is more under-stated and subtle. This departure from overt political thriller conventions allows the film to delve into the emotional and psychological terrain of its characters, with a particular focus on the matriarch, Eunice Paiva, played by the powerhouse Fernanda Torres.
Rather than relying on external action or traditional thrills, I’m Still Here (2024), centres around Eunice’s emotional journey and the impact of her environment on her family when her husband, Rubens Paiva (Selton Mello) is taken away by what may-or-not-be the military. The film positions Eunice as the central figure whose personal evolution drives the narrative, illustrating the profound effects of her choices and relationships on her family. Salles skilfully weaves family celebrations, events, and home movie footage to create a swell of warmth amidst the fear and paranoia created when Rubens disappears.
Eunice Paiva’s character is given a powerful depth in I’m Still Here (2024), with Fernanda Torres delivering a standout performance. Rather than positioning Eunice as a victim or a purely heroic figure, the film complicates her character, showing her as a multifaceted individual. Eunice’s actions are driven not by external thrills or pressures, but by the emotional and psychological burdens she carries as a matriarch, dealing with familial responsibility and navigating the complexities of her relationships with her children, spouse, and extended family.
Torres’s portrayal emphasises Eunice’s inner conflict—her desire to protect her loved ones, while also grappling with personal loss, regret, and the external societal forces that shape her world. Constantly denied answers and closure by the authorities, Eunice refuses to give in and continues to fight for decades, even when the military rule is over. The emotional intensity of Eunice’s character arc is one of the most compelling aspects of the film, as Torres’s performance brings a deep authenticity to the role, grounding the story in real, human struggles rather than sensationalised action.
By moving away from traditional thriller tropes, I’m Still Here (2024) creates a more reflective and intimate cinematic experience. Rather than simply delivering suspense through external action, the film explores the internal tensions of its characters and their relationships, magnifying the quiet, profound impact that such personal struggles can have on a family. Having lived through such adversity the Paiva family would stand proud in the face of this evil regime, overcoming all that is thrown at it. I mean, there is so much evil in this world and throughout history, that Eunice Paiva and similar quiet heroes are to be cherished. In short: why can’t such admirable individuals run the often horrible world we live in.
Written by Moritz Binder, Tim Fehlbaum and Alex David
Produced by Philipp Trauer, Thomas Wöbke, Tim Fehlbaum, Sean Penn, John Ira Palmer and John Wildermuth
Main cast: Peter Sarsgaard, John Magaro, Ben Chaplin, Leonie Benesch, Jim Mckay (archival footage), Zinedine Soualem, etc.
Cinematography by Markus Förderer
Edited by Hansjörg Weißbrich
*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***
The events of September 5th, 1972, during the Munich Olympics are deeply connected to the tragic and harrowing story of the attack by the Palestinian group ‘Black September’, which targeted the Israeli Olympic team. This day is crucial in understanding the impact of the attack, as it marks the beginning of what became known as the ‘Munich Massacre’. The documentary One Day in September (2000) directed by Kevin Macdonald, offered a detailed account of the events providing chilling footage, interviews with survivors, and insights from those who witnessed the attack and as a moment that deeply altered the course of history, influencing global politics, the perception of terrorism, and the nature of security at international events.
Steven Spielberg’s fictionalised film Munich (2005) dramatized the aftermath of the ‘Munich Massacre’, focusing on Israel’s covert response to the attack. The film based on the book Vengeance by George Jonas, told the story of a team of Israeli agents tasked with assassinating those involved in the planning of the massacre. The plot of Munich (2005) unfolds as these agents track down and kill individuals connected to ‘Black September’. The film, criticized for a series of inaccuracies, portrayed the moral complexities and psychological toll of vengeance, showing the personal conflict faced by the agents as they carry out their mission. Now, covering the same event, we have September 5th (2024), a drama-documentary that snapshots the conflict from the perspective of the ABC Sports crew and their coverage of the events.
Director, Tim Fehlbaum, and his talented production team effectively utilize constraints in geography, time, space, and structure to craft a highly claustrophobic thriller, drawing viewers into the escalating crisis as it unfolds. From the moment the athletes are taken hostage the ABC media team headed by Peter Sarsgaard as Roone Arledge, the president of ABC Sports, John Magaro as Geoffrey Mason, the head of the control room in Munich and Ben Chaplin as Marvin Bader, the head of operation at ABC Sports are on red alert striving to capture the story and prevent it being taken from them by the ABC News team. Fehlbaum makes use of limited settings, “real-time” structure, and confined spaces expertly as the audience find out information of the hostages plight and subsequent runway killings at precisely the same time as the crew do.
The films’ use of psychological space, close-ups, shadows and screens, creates a claustrophobic atmosphere, starving the audience of air and making them feel the increasing emotional pressure on each character. Like the world’s population today witnessing the brutal events unfold between Israel and Palestine on the news, they ultimately have little power over the situation as news of tragedy bleeds through to them. Further, the cast are uniformly compelling with Peter Sarsgaard, John Magaro and Leonie Benesch, as a translator for the ABC crew, stand out amongst an impressive ensemble. Lastly, special mention for the editing team led by Hansjörg Weißbrich, who skilfully weaved in actual footage from the ABC archive, creating a seamless and powerful cinematic experience.
Produced by Georgina Lowe Main Cast: Marianne Jean-Baptiste, Michele Austin, David Webber, Tuwaine Barrett, Ani Nelson, Sophia Brown, Jonathan Livingstone, etc.
Cinematography by Dick Pope
*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***
Mike Leigh’s career has been defined by an unflinching exploration of everyday existence, shaped by a commitment to realism and a deep understanding of human behaviour. His films, whether contemporary or period pieces, dissect the nuances of ordinary lives, often capturing the struggles, aspirations, and quiet triumphs of working- and middle-class individuals. His signature improvisational approach—where actors develop their characters through extensive rehearsal—allows for an organic authenticity that makes his work resonate with honesty and emotional depth.
Leigh’s early films, such as Bleak Moments (1971) andNuts in May (1976), established his interest in the mundanities and disappointments of daily life. His later films, such as High Hopes (1988) and Life is Sweet (1990), continued this trend, portraying ordinary people navigating personal and societal challenges with humour and pathos. Secrets & Lies (1996), one of his most acclaimed works, epitomizes his fascination with human vulnerability, as it dissects family relationships, race, and identity in a way that feels raw yet tender.
Leigh’s career trajectory has also included excursions into period dramas, notably the heart-wrenching, Vera Drake (2004) and arguably his most political film, Peterloo (2018). But rather than abandoning his focus on the intricacies of human experience, he applies the same observational precision to historical subjects. Topsy-Turvy (1999), about the creation of Gilbert and Sullivan’s The Mikado, examines the creative process with the same detail he grants his modern-day working-class protagonists. Mr. Turner (2014), a biopic of the painter J.M.W. Turner, similarly explores the artist’s struggles, eccentricities, and societal context without falling into the clichés of the genre. These films reveal that, for Leigh, the past is not a grand spectacle but an extension of the same human complexities that define his contemporary work.
His latest film, Hard Truths (2024), follows in this tradition, delving into the stark realities of its characters with the same empathy and directness. Set in London in the present day, it focuses on the Deacon family unit and extended relations, notably two personality-divergent sisters, Pansy Deacon (Marianne Jean-Baptiste) and sibling, Chantelle (Michele Austin). Pansy is a middle-aged London housewife whose relentless irritability and sharp tongue mask a deep-seated inner turmoil. Her acerbic interactions—whether berating her husband Curtley, chastising her son Moses, or lashing out at unsuspecting strangers—serve as both a source of dark humour and a window into her dissatisfaction with life. Indeed, some of her rants are absolutely laugh-out-loud hilarious.
Leigh’s nuanced direction ensures that while Pansy’s outbursts may elicit laughter, they simultaneously reveal the tragic underpinnings of her character. Her vitriolic remarks, often delivered with biting wit, are symptomatic of her internal struggles, painting a portrait of a woman grappling with unarticulated pain. This duality is evident in scenes where Pansy’s caustic rants thinly veils her profound sense of isolation and despair. The film delves deeper into Pansy’s psyche during interactions with the more upbeat, Chantelle. A pivotal moment occurs during a Mother’s Day visit to their mother’s grave, where Chantelle confronts Pansy about her pervasive anger. Pansy’s anguished admission, “I don’t know!” encapsulates the bewildering nature of her depression, highlighting how her defensive humour serves as a barrier against this insidious mental illness.
Marianne Jean-Baptiste’s absorbing portrayal brings emotional depth to Pansy’s character, capturing the delicate interplay between her abrasive exterior and the fragility it conceals. Similarly, Michele Austin brings light and optimism to the screen, along with her effervescent daughters, somehow striving to combat the all-pervasive cloud of depression. Some of my favourite scenes of the film were with Chantelle in conversation with customers in her hair salon. Thus, in essence, Hard Truths (2024) presents a compelling character study that intertwines humour with the sombre realities of depression. Through Pansy Deacon, Leigh illustrates there are no easy answers to the pain of an affliction that remains silent and invisible but is ever-present within everyone’s lives.
Produced by Trevor Matthews, Nick Gordon, Brian Young, Andrew Morrison, Andrew Lauren, D.J. Gugenheim and Brady Corbet.
Cast: Adrien Brody, Felicity Jones, Guy Pearce, Joe Alwyn, Raffey Cassidy, Stacy Martin, Emma Laird, Isaach de Bankolé and Alessandro Nivola.
Cinematography Lol Crawley
Edited by Dávid Jancsó
*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***
A new wave of American filmmakers—directors like Todd Field, Robert Eggers, and Brady Corbet—have emerged as some of the most technically proficient and ambitious voices in contemporary cinema. Their work is marked by rigorous formal control, deep thematic ambition, and an almost obsessive dedication to craft. These filmmakers, arguably influenced by auteurs like Sofia Coppola and Paul Thomas Anderson, demonstrate an understanding of film language that is both deeply referential and boldly experimental. Whether it’s Eggers’ meticulous historical recreations, Field’s austere and cerebral storytelling, or Corbet’s overtly intellectualized narratives, they all exhibit an undeniable mastery of their medium. Their films, often dense with literary and philosophical allusions, cater to cinephiles who relish formal precision and narrative audacity.
Yet, for all their brilliance, there’s an argument to be made that their work veers into self-indulgence, if not outright pretension. Their films sometimes feel like exercises in artistic superiority, catering to an audience that appreciates the challenge but perhaps not the emotional accessibility that cinema can offer at its best. Whether it’s the cold remove of TÁR(2022), the self-serious mythologizing of The Lighthouse(2019), or the arch, affect-laden approach of Vox Lux (2018), these works often feel encased in a layer of knowing detachment. There’s a fine line between intellectual rigor and a kind of smug, insular artistry, and some critics argue that these filmmakers, however talented, sometimes tip too far in the latter direction—prioritizing aesthetic and conceptual ambition over genuine human connection. I mean, I love a lot of these filmmakers’ work, but I was raised on the American films of Coppola, Scorsese, DePalma, Spielberg, Lucas and Friedkin; auteurs who knew their art, but also how to entertain the audience too.
In Corbet’s, and film partner’s Mona Fastvold’s, phenomenally designed and constructed film, The Brutalist (2024), Adrien Brody portrays fictional László Tóth, a Hungarian-Jewish architect and Holocaust survivor. Brody’s is an incredibly memorable piece of work, acting as a spiritual performance sequel to his Oscar-winning role inThe Pianist (2002). But rather than focus on an individual attempting to escape the Nazis during the war, the narrative concentrates on Tóth, who arrives in post-war America with nothing but his talent and ambition, only to find himself trapped in a system that celebrates his work while rejecting him as a person. In America, racism is delivered with a smile, and generosity is a means of control. High society rewards Tóth but also suffocates him with subtle condescension, as he is paraded around as an artistic trophy but never fully embraced as an equal.
As an epic character study of the life of an immigrant and exploitation of the financially stricken Jew in America, The Brutalist (2024), is a powerful work. Such themes compel us to think of today and the fact that America continues to struggle with the integration of people travelling there, even though it was built with the hands of migrant families. Here the screenplay exerts true power in critiquing the United States’ treatment of those travelling to America with hope. As the narrative unfolds across the decades, Corbet, Fastfold and Brody illustrate the slow erosion of Laslo’s dreams in an America that welcomes his work but not his humanity. As the key antagonist, Harrison Lee Van Buren, Guy Pearce delivers another chilling and precise character study. Van Buren is a spoilt, rich and brattish man whose charm and refinement mask a deeply exploitative nature.
Photographically, The Brutalist (2024) is indeed a work of art. Lol Crawley and the production team immerse viewers in a stark, architectural visual language—monolithic structures, rigid compositions, and a muted, desaturated color palette mirroring the emotional and physical isolation Tóth experiences. Yet, for for all its incredible craftsmanship and bold cinematic ambition, the film is a test of endurance—an unrelenting, patience-draining experience that stretches well beyond three hours. Even the inclusion of chapters, and a self-consciously “prestigious” intermission only serve to amplify the film’s pretensions, prolonging the agony of watching layer upon layer of misery unfold like a slow-moving roller-coaster that induces motion sickness with no escape. It’s a brilliant film that demands submission rather than engagement, wielding its bleakness like a weapon against the audience’s stamina. It will probably win the Academy Award for Best Film. That or Wicked (2024).
Produced by Peter Jaysen, James Mangold, Alex Heineman, Bob Bookman, Alan Gasmer, Jeff Rosen, Timothée Chalamet, Fred Berger etc.
Main cast: Timothée Chalamet, Edward Norton, Elle Fanning, Monica Barbaro, Boyd Holbrook, Scoot McNairy, Dan Fogler, etc.
James Mangold is rarely mentioned as one of the best directors around. Probably because he is not a flashy cigar-munching quote machine or a even a household name. Yet, he has consistently delivered a series of extremely entertaining genre films over the past few decades. These include: Copland (1997), Identity (2003), Girl, Interrupted (1999), Walk the Line (2005), 3:10 to Yuma (2007), Logan (2017) and Ford v Ferrari (2019). His films always feature solid characterisation, compelling conflict and well-structured plots. They also have a pristine and attractive look and style. Further, they always attracts impressive A-list actors and striking ensemble casts. His cover version of the music biography, Dylan Goes Electric!by Elijah Wald is no different.
A Complete Unknown (2024) showcases events from the era of 1961 to 1965 where Dylan rose to major stardom delivering stunning and poetic lyrics with hypnotic melodies. This period culminates in his movement from acoustic guitar to full electric band, causing controversial and violent reactions from the audience and organisers of the Newport Folk Festival. This furore may seem mildly inconsequential in today’s social-media digital coliseum where intellectual debates are fought with emojis by individuals with nano-seconded attention spans. But for many, Bob Dylan’s perceived treachery of moving from the purity of folk over to the dark side of rock was a significant event of the epoch. Having said that, Dylan was always an enigmatic maverick and genius who marched to the time of his own drum. Thus, such audial rebellion was no surprise, especially when looking back at it now.
As a tribute to the incredible musical and writing brilliance of Dylan, A Complete Unknown (2024) is definitely worth a watch. Timothée Chalamet does a sterling job with the musicianship, mannerisms and vocal duties. He even brings a suggestion of character to someone who isn’t just a musician. Dylan’s a shape-shifter, a poet, a myth, a paradox wrapped in a harmonica riff. To play Dylan is not to “become” him but to capture the way he constantly eludes being known. Personally, I enjoyed Chalamet’s charismatic performance in Wonka (2023 more, but he is commanding as Dylan nonetheless. The supporting cast are terrific too, notably Edward Norton as the affable folk singer Pete Seeger and Boyd Holbrook as a muscular Johnny Cash. Mangold deserves much praise for getting so many consistently fine performances, even if the script could have been punched up with more drama throughout. Dylan being a bit of a self-driven “arsehole” and slight philanderer hardly raises the pulse.
Overall, Mangold directs with a sure hand and there are many fantastic musical set-pieces, gigs and recording sessions. But the film’s glossy sheen feels at odds with the grit of the 1960’s Greenwich Village folk scene. The world Dylan emerged from was smoky, messy, and filled with hungry artists scraping by in dimly lit coffeehouses, where folk music wasn’t just a style but a battle cry.A Complete Unknown (2024) captures the aesthetic—the period costumes, the dimly lit clubs, the jangling guitars—but everything feels just a touch too manicured, too cinematic. Dylan’s rise was not glamorous and the film makes the counterculture movement feel almost nostalgic rather than revolutionary. It’s an engaging snapshot, and Chalamet’s performance is undoubtedly compelling, but much like a pristine re-recording of an old folk song, the imperfections—the very thing that gave the music its soul—are missing.
Main Cast: Christopher Abbott, Julia Garner, Matilda Firth and Sam Jaeger
Cinematography by Stefan Duscio
Leigh Whannell’s Wolf Man (2025) brings a fresh twist to the classic tale, grounding the werewolf transformation in a visceral metaphor for illness. The concept has undeniable merit, with the protagonist’s physical deterioration mirroring deeper themes of paternal guilt and the crushing weight of family responsibilities. Whannell’s knack for melding genre thrills with human drama is evident, as he did so effectively in Upgrade (2018) and The Invisible Man (2020). In fact, along with Predestination (2014), and the recently released, The Substance (2024), Upgrade (2018) is a low-budget masterpiece which SHOULD appear in many best-of-the-millennium-film lists, as opposed to over-rated, art-house garbage like Joanna Hogg’s, The Souvenir (2019).
Anyway, back to the Wolf Man (2025). The film’s decision to confine its narrative mostly, apart from a suspenseful flashback prologue sequence, to a single night, significantly undermines its potential. Once the parental unit portrayed by nervy and ticky, Christopher Abbott and woefully underwritten, Julia Garner is established, the rushed structure sacrifices emotional depth and character development, leaving its poignant ideas about illness, fatherhood and family obligations feeling under explored. The claustrophobic time frame allows for tense, kinetic set pieces and decent gore, but it stifles the broader emotional resonance that Whannell has demonstrated in his previous work.
For fans of Upgrade (2018) and The Invisible Man(2020), Wolf Manmay feel like a missed opportunity. Those films balanced high-concept storytelling with sharp social commentary, whereas this latest effort feels more like a half-formed howl in the night. Indeed, there seemed to be a whole bite taken out of the second act with the film hurtling toward the underwhelming denouement with little tension and suspense. Further, if you have ever watched Ozark, then Julia Garner’s electric energy and acting power is truly under utilized. Plus, the film was SO dark. I know it’s a horror film, but it would be great to actually SEE what was going on as the characters go into the woods. Oh, and I did not like the monster design at all to be honest. Bring back Rick Baker I say. Overall, while there’s brilliance in the premise, the execution lacks the quality needed to fully transform it into something truly memorably metamorphic.
HORROR-ON-SEA FILM FESTIVAL is an amazing gathering in Southend-on-Sea. Every January horror filmmakers and fans flock to the Essex coastal town to satisfy their desire for all things horror.
The festival screens, over two weekends each year and features some of the most gruesome, scariest, funniest and entertaining independent horror films you’ll ever find. For more information please check out their website here.
This year Horror-on-Sea screened the short film I wrote and produced called, Inferis (2024). It’s an atmospheric horror which is a proof of concept short I intend to develop as a feature film I can describe as Saw meets The Office. You can watch it here:
Myself, Julia (who appeared inInferis (2024) and my wife, Melissa, attended the packed 10am screening as the film supported an intriguing indie feature called The Cellar (2024). We also watched a gory and highly entertaining monster movie called, Hell-Hole (2024) that day. Many more films were screened over two weeks, plus masterclasses from horror filmmakers such as Pat Higgins.
So, if you ever find yourself in Southend-on-Sea one January then do check it out. Or scroll through the gallery of photos I took over the weekend.
During 2024 I began planning a new short film and was keen to springboard a new horror idea from something simple around the flat I live in. I decided therefore to check out the various props I had and found an old black phone and an hourglass. From those props I began thinking about how the passing of time and communication could be used as a means of creating emotional conflict for the characters and elicit a sense of dread and fear from the audience. From these thoughts I began writing a script that eventually became called The Suicide Shift (2025).
Pre-production for the film took place during 2024 and I put together a really talented cast and crew all with a very low budget. The filming took place at the end of November 2024 over two extremely productive days of shooting. The Suicide Shift (2025) is now in post-production with a release planned for 2025!
Theme and genre
The Suicide Shift (2025) further develops themes of hell, work and being trapped, previously explored in short films, Hell Is. . . (2013) and Inferis (2024). I was inspired to write a film which dealt with suicide. Mainly due to my own personal experience of losing two close friends who took their own life. I am using the film to highlight the tragedy of people who take their life and meditate on the possible reasons such events take place. I am classing the film as emotional horror.
I have set the film in the genre of psychological, supernatural horror as the horror film allows a filmmaker to explore deep themes while also raising emotion and suspense with the audience. The low-budget production relies heavily on performance, actor reaction, silence, and sound, aiming to be both powerfully dramatic and disturbing. It is set in a few locations but was filmed in one place with limited props and cast.
Logline
Banished to the “suicide shift” for breaking spirit call centre regulations, CARMILLA FERRY, now deals with the most tortured of souls moving from this world to the next. After being blasted by her line manager on the phone, Russell, Carmilla is feeling even more isolated and demoralised than usual. After a series of heart-crushing calls, culminating in a particularly stressful shift, Carmilla is then faced with the most heart-wrenching call of all.
Pitch Outline
In mythical days past, the souls of the dead were carried to the other side by Charon the Ferryman. In the present, the handling of souls has now been modernised and is managed by call centres run by managerial bureaucrats and office workers who exist in limbo, somewhere between heaven, hell and the mortal world.
It is the spirit call centre’s job to manage the dying as they pass into the next world. The employees are not allowed to intervene. Only coordinate, process and record death. The workers communicate via a supernatural telecom system which is heard in the mind of the dying. Any worker who intervenes risks having to work alone in ‘Limbo’.
Banished to the ‘Suicide Shift’ for breaking spirit call centre regulations, CARMILLA FERRY, now deals with the most tortured of souls moving from this world to the next. After being blasted by her manager, RUSSELL, on the phone, Carmilla is feeling even more bullied, isolated, and demoralised than usual. Especially because Russell will not let her see her teenage daughter, a mortal named, Lucy. Russell controls everything and watches Carmilla via a CCTV camera and screens.
During a particularly stressful shift, Carmilla has had to deal with a whole night of heart-crushing calls from the dying. Then, in the early hours of the morning Lucy is suddenly put through to Carmilla having taken an overdose at a party. Carmilla must listen as her frightened daughter’s life slowly drifts away, powerless to intervene. The true horror of work and existence dawns on her.
The Cinema Fix presents 