Tag Archives: action

Cinema Review: The Smashing Machine (2025) – an authentic portrait of a MMA fighter that hits big!

Cinema Review: The Smashing Machine (2025)

Directed by Benny Safdie

Written by Benny Safdie

Based on documentary The Smashing Machine: The Life and Times of Extreme Fighter – Mark Kerr by John Hyams

Produced by Benny Safdie, Dwayne Johnson, Eli Bush, Hiram Garcia, Dany Garcia & David Koplan

Main cast: Dwayne Johnson, Emily Blunt, Ryan Bader, Bas Rutten, Oleksandr Usyk etc.

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



Benny Safdie’s The Smashing Machine (2025) is a bruising, compassionate, and unvarnished portrait of a man torn between physical dominance and emotional fragility. Centered on a three-year stretch (early 2000s) in the dramatic life of MMA pioneer Mark Kerr, the film captures both the bone-rattling intensity of the ring and the private turmoil of a fighter whose greatest battles unfold far from the crowd’s roar.

Dwayne Johnson delivers a revelatory performance as Kerr, casting aside his blockbuster charisma to reveal deep vulnerability and conflict. His portrayal is raw, unguarded, and humane—showing a man both addicted to the high of combat and trapped by the pain that follows. The film traces Kerr’s tumultuous relationship with Dawn Staples (played with nuance and sensitivity by Emily Blunt.) Together they find emotional truth in every scene, exploring the strain that MMA fighting, addiction, mental health, fear-of-losing, obsession and self-doubt place on intimacy.



The fight sequences are stunningly authentic, shot with kinetic immediacy and documentary realism. Safdie immerses the audience in the grit and chaos of early MMA, where glory was fleeting and paydays were meager compared to the sport’s modern era. Supporting performances from real fighters Ryan Bader and Oleksandr Usyk lend further credibility, grounding the film in the texture of lived experience.

Safdie’s direction is as intense and uncompromising as his subject. He resists the traditional rise-and-fall sports narrative, opting instead for a slice-of-life, near-documentary approach that prizes authenticity over heart-pounding drama. If the conflict surrounding Kerr’s addiction, rehab, and Dawn’s own mental health struggles feels under-explored, that restraint is also what makes the film feel so painfully real.

Inspired by the documentary, The Life and Times of Extreme Fighter – Mark Kerr by John Hyams, The Smashing Machine (2025) isn’t a conventional sports movie—it’s a portrait of survival, identity, addiction and the brutal intersection of ambition and vulnerability. Unflinching and deeply human, it cements Johnson’s performance as the best of his career, and confirms Safdie’s gift for finding poetry in the MMA fight scene. Ultimately, the film works best as a tribute to the trailblazing strength and passion of the fighter, Mark Kerr. The fight game is a crazy, tough business and it’s heartening to see, especially in the final scenes, that Kerr survived such battles and lived to breathe another day.

Mark: 8 out of 11


Cinema Review: One Battle After Another (2025) – an exhilarating revolutionary romp that lacks the depth of those films it attempts to emulate!

Cinema Review: One Battle After Another (2025)

Directed by Paul Thomas Anderson

Written by Paul Thomas Anderson

Inspired by Vineland by Thomas Pynchon

Produced by Adam Somner, Sara Murphy, Paul Thomas Anderson

Main Cast: Leonardo DiCaprio, Sean Penn, Benicio del Toro, Regina Hall, Teyana Taylor, Chase Infiniti, Wood Harris, Tony Goldwyn, Kevin Tighe, Shayna McHayle, etc.

Cinematography by Michael Bauman

Music by Jonny Greenwood

*** CONTAINS SPOILERS ***



It’s a brave filmmaker that quotes one of the greatest revolutionary films of all time during it’s runtime, namely Battle of Algiers (1966). But Paul Thomas Anderson’s formidable cinematic career more than earns him the right to quote a film as towering as The Battle of Algiers (1966) in his latest release One Battle After Another (2025).

Across works like Boogie Nights (1997) and Magnolia (1999), he has demonstrated a mastery of ensemble storytelling and emotional crescendo; with Punch-Drunk Love (2002) he revealed a gift for intimate, offbeat romance; and in There Will Be Blood (2007) and Phantom Thread (2017) he proved himself one of the most rigorous visual stylists and psychological dramatists of his generation. Such a body of work grants him the authority to converse with cinema’s political masterpieces, even if his more recent Licorice Pizza (2021) felt comparatively diffuse and lacking in urgency. His filmography, at its strongest, stands as evidence of a filmmaker deeply attuned to the legacies and possibilities of the medium.

Having said that, Gillo Pontecorvo’s The Battle of Algiers (1966) wields revolutionary power through its raw immediacy, embedding viewers in the lived experience of anti-colonial struggle with a documentary-like realism that blurs the line between record and re-creation. By contrast, Anderson’s One Battle After Another (2025) approaches revolution less as lived history than as a cinematic genre to be emulated, drawing on the tropes and textures of upheaval without grounding itself in the direct urgency of political struggle. Where Pontecorvo conjures revolution as something happening before our eyes, Anderson refracts it through the prism of style, making revolution as much a matter of aesthetic construction as lived reality. It is during its lengthy running time extremely entertaining though.



The opening hour is fast-paced and crams in a lot of action and personality. It establishes a fine ensemble cast, strong characters, striking palette and compelling themes which bring to life Anderson’s sharply written and fantastically filmed screenplay. The narrative focuses on “Ghetto” Pat Calhoun (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Perfidia Beverly Hills (Teyana Taylor), lovers and leaders of the far-left French 75, who storm detention centres, bomb banks, and sabotage power grids, while their soon-to-become nemesis—Officer Steven Lockjaw (Sean Penn)—becomes erotically obsessed with Perfidia, sparing her life when he catches her planting a bomb in exchange for a sexually masochistic tryst. Thus, begins a warped love/hate triangle and rivalry which provides the backbone for the action.

The second hour pivots sharply after establishing Perfidia as a commanding revolutionary presence. The focus pulls to her daughter, Willa (Chase Infiniti), some sixteen years later, now living off the grid and avoiding all but the most basic technology out of fear of surveillance. ‘Pothead’ Pat, has withered into a paranoid and barely functioning stoner-alcoholic, leaving Willa to emerge as the steadier, more mentally resilient figure in their fractured household. The film undeniably suffers from the absence of Perfidia’s charisma and drive, yet it regains momentum when the now Colonel Lockjaw revives his obsessive pursuit, setting the stage for a tense reconfiguration of the story’s revolutionary stakes.

The acting in One Battle After Another (2025) crackles with intensity, led by standout turns from Taylor, Penn, and crafty scene-stealer, Benicio Del Toro. Further, Anderson’s casting team find some amazing supporting military personnel who deliver with uncanny authenticity. Sean Penn’s performance as a swaggering officer radiates brute masculinity—his very walk and gait dripping with testosterone and worthy of awards consideration on their own. Leonardo DiCaprio, meanwhile, folds another eccentric, messy, and deeply contradictory figure into his already remarkable CV, a creation that resonates with the layered complexity of his recent work in Scorsese’s Killers of the Flower Moon (2023). He is actually far more hilarious here, as demonstrated in his desperate attempts to overcome the revolutionary helpline he calls for instructions.

Overall, One Battle After Another (2025) works best as a searing, darkly funny revolutionary black comedy, blending sexual, military, conspiracy, and social politics into a heady mix of action, crime, road movie, and romance tropes. The result is a wildly entertaining visual and musical feast, even if it stops short of delivering true socio-political depth. While the film’s closing stretch leans into deliberate plot ambiguities that complicate its resolution, Anderson ultimately serves up a combative cinematic blast—stylish, sharp, and exhilarating—if just shy of a bona fide classic.

Mark: 8.5 out of 11


Cinema Review: Dangerous Animals (2025) sprays ‘Jaws’-dropping and bloody thrills!

Cinema Review: Dangerous Animals (2025)

Directed by Sean Byrne

Written by Nick Lepard

Produced by Troy Lum, Andrew Mason, Pete Shilaimon, Mickey Liddell, Chris Ferguson & Brian Kavanaugh-Jones

Main Cast: Hassie Harrison, Josh Heuston, Rob Carlton, Ella Newton, Liam Greinke, Jai Courtney etc.

Cinematography by Shelley Farthing-Dawe

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



Set amidst the golden beaches and deep blue sea of the Gold Coast, Australia, the film begins with boat captain, Tucker (Jai Courtney) springing a shocking and literal tourist trap. The film then moves onto establishing a fledgling romance between surf drifter, Zephr (Hassie Harrison) and local office clerk, Moses, (Josh Heuston). What then follows is a brutal and gory thriller which had me on the edge-of-my-popcorn throughout. It also once again proves that human beings are more of a threat than the actual big fish in the sea.

Dangerous Animals (2025) consistently delivers thrills thanks to Nick Lepard’s witty, nasty script and two standout performances. Hassie Harrison shines as a gutsy fighter who refuses to play the victim, while Jai Courtney both embodies and skewers the Aussie male stereotype in a scenery-chewing turn sharper than a shark’s jaws. His hulking frame, blunt verbals and piercing looks emulate a predatory fearfulness throughout creating one of the most memorable screen villains in recent years.

After watching the trippy Kafkaesque Nicolas Cage beach thriller not long ago, The Surfer (2024), I found Australian toxic masculinity once again raising its head with blood and bite in the Jaws-meets-Silence of the Lambs suspense thriller. Dangerous Animals (2025) isn’t without minor plot snags, but ultimately Lepard’s twisted script ensures we care about the leads, weaving a believable romance amid tense shark attacks and sea-sprayed suspense. Director, Sean Byrne, orchestrates the shark and human action brilliantly on a relatively low budget, ensuring the result is a lean, bloody, and entertaining ride that bites down hard and doesn’t let go.

Mark: 8 out of 11


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


Cult Film Review: Possession (1981)

CULT FILM REVIEW: POSSESSION (1981)

Directed by Andrzej Żuławski

Screenplay by Andrzej Żuławski

Adaptation and dialogue by Andrzej Żuławski & Frederic Tute

Produced by Marie-Laure Reyre

Main cast: Isabelle Adjani, Sam Neill & Heinz Bennent

Cinematography by Bruno Nuytten

Edited by Marie-Sophi Dubus & Suzanne Lang-Willar

Music by Andrzej Korzyński

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



Andrzej Żuławski’s Possession (1981) is a film that doesn’t just defy genre—it annihilates the very idea of categorization. Part spy thriller, part domestic psychodrama, part Lovecraftian horror, and part apocalyptic hallucination, the film barrels forward with such manic intensity that it becomes less a movie and more an exorcism of the soul. It resists structural and emotional compartmentalizing at every turn, choosing instead to implode in a flurry of shrieks, flailing bodies, and gooey, pulsing monstrosities.

Set in a divided Berlin, the film ostensibly begins as a break-up story: Mark (Sam Neill), a shell-shocked spy, returns home to discover that his wife Anna (Isabelle Adjani, in a performance of pure, unrelenting hysteria) wants a divorce. But from there, the film spirals rapidly out of the realm of conventional melodrama and into something far more surreal and terrifying. Mark’s confusion curdles into obsession, Anna’s descent becomes biblical, and reality itself begins to warp and splinter.



Is it a Cold War spy film? Yes, but only in fragments, and those are quickly consumed by the escalating emotional chaos. Is it a break-up film? Certainly—but filtered through an expressionist nightmare where the grief and rage of separation erupt as literal body horror. Horror film? Undoubtedly, though the fear is less about monsters and more about the abyss that opens when love dies. And as the narrative crumbles into bloody symbolism and metaphysical dread, Possession (1981) begins to feel like an apocalyptic drama—one where the apocalypse is internal, intimate, and unstoppable.

Żuławski directs like a man possessed, matching his characters’ unhinged energy with a restless camera and wild tonal shifts. The result is a fever dream of shrieking confrontations, doppelgängers, collapsing identities, and one of the most infamous subway scenes in cinema history. Possession (1981) is not an easy film—it’s messy, abrasive, and frequently overwhelming—but it’s precisely in its refusal to conform that its power lies. Indeed, much of the dialogue is obtuse non-sequitur in delivery as the actors deliver prose-like philosophical statements that have clearly influenced the writing of Yorgos Lanthimos and Efthymis Filippou.

To watch Possession (1981) is to witness cinema used as a weapon against coherence, comfort, and calm. I almost had a panic attack watching it. Neill, usually a calm on-screen presence looks as though he is lost in a nightmare he cannot escape. Heinz Bennent, as the lover, fully embraces Zulawski’s insane vision, while Adjani literally has a mental breakdown on screen. It is an unbelievably fearless embodiment of psychotic sexuality, arguably only matched in a commercial release by Eva Green’s Vanessa Ives from the majestic gothic TV series, Penny Dreadful (2014-2016). Ultimately, Possession (1981), is as much about the disintegration of self as it is about the end of a marriage, the failure of ideology, or the horror of being alive. One doesn’t simply watch Possession (1981)—one survives it.


Cinema Review: 28 Years Later (2025) – an epic horror sequel; one for the (r)ages!

Cinema Review: 28 Years Later (2025)

Directed by Danny Boyle

Written by Alex Garland

Produced by Danny Boyle, Alex Garland, Andrew Macdonald, Peter Rice & Bernie Bellew

Main Cast: Jodie Comer, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Jack O’Connell, Alfie Williams, Edvin Ryding and Ralph Fiennes

Cinematography by Anthony Dod Mantle

Edited by Jon Harris

** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS **



We’re foot—slog—slog—slog—sloggin’ over Africa
Foot—foot—foot—foot—sloggin’ over Africa —
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin’ up and down again!)
There’s no discharge in the war! —
Rudyard Kipling

The opening sequences of 28 Days Later (2002), directed by Danny Boyle and written by Alex Garland, are some of the most haunting and iconic introductions in cinema—transcending the horror genre to deliver something mythic, mournful, and terrifyingly real. They are masterclasses in mood-building, world-setting, and emotional manipulation, and redefined what the modern apocalypse could feel like on screen. From the terrifying raging simian attacks to the stunning silence of hollow streets and buildings of London as Jim (Cillian Murphy) awakes to an incredibly changed and empty planet. Here Boyle used guerrilla filmmaking as an artistic weapon with digital video blending with silence and dread, beauty and decay, loneliness and rage creating a grimy realism that no big budget blockbuster could replicate.

The opening sequence of the sequel, 28 Weeks Later (2007), was damned good as well, although what followed was not as formidable as the original. If we’re honest it was more of a high-quality straight-to-video effort, especially when compared to the incredible first film. But what of 28 Years Later (2025), which finds Boyle and Garland re-teaming with a stellar cast including: Jodie Comer, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Ralph Fiennes and newcomer, Alfie Williams. It opens with yet another impressive opening sequence in 2002, as a family of kids are attacked in their Scottish home. Escaping on frantic foot is young Jimmy who finds his father, the local minister, in his church proclaiming the ‘end of days!’ Move forward twenty-eight years to 2031 and the film joins, interestingly enough, not Jimmy, but a survivor community living in Lindisfarne, a tidal island connected by a fortified causeway.

Focusing on the family unit of twelve-year-old son, Spike (Alfie Williams), and parents, Isla (Jodie Comer) plus father, Jamie (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), 28 Years Later (2025) marks a ferocious and exhilarating return to the infected-ravaged world. It is not simply a continuation, but a full-fledged reimagining that deepens, widens, and accelerates the mythology, style, and thematic power of the series. It is not just a sequel—it’s an evolution, one that pulses with the blood of Romero’s bleak social horror and the serialized depth of The Walking Dead, while forging its own cinematic identity: brutal, urgent, and conceptually masterful.



From its opening moments, 28 Years Later plunges viewers into a world far beyond what we’ve seen before. Civilization hasn’t recovered—it has, like the zombies, mutated. The virus is no longer an outbreak or an aftermath; it is an ecosystem. What began as a confined crisis in 28 Days Later, and widened into militarized guilt and familial betrayal in 28 Weeks Later, now becomes a reckoning. Thematically, the film touches on generational trauma, hybrid immunity, rites of passage, euthanasia and the evolution of the rage undead. Jamie trains his son in the art zombie-hunting, before the middle act finds Spike attempting to save his unwell mum. At this time he both matures and overcomes several battles with mutated inhumans.

The visual grammar of 28 Years Later stays true to the DNA of the series: raw, immediate, and grimy. But it’s also evolved. The digital grunge of 28 Days Later is elevated with modern tools, while still embracing a handheld, documentary-style urgency. Towns and buildings aren’t just abandoned—they’re fossilized in trauma. New scenes are suffused with ash, dust, decay, blood, plasma and rusted iconography, painting a world that’s both rotting and fighting to be reborn. This is a horror film that smells like blood and diesel. It feels dirty. Every camera move, whip pan and smash cut drags you to hell and makes you feel like your life is in danger.

28 Years Later doesn’t just revive a franchise—it transforms it into a towering trilogy of infection, collapse, and spiritual trauma. It draws from Romero’s cynicism, The Walking Dead‘s moral complexity, and its own raw, kinetic legacy to deliver something uniquely powerful: a horror film that is both visceral and cerebral, intimate and operatic. While there are some script and pacing issues toward the end of the second act, Boyle directs superbly. Plus, the film benefits from some memorable performances, notably Comer, Fiennes and young Alfie Williams. Lastly, it has one of the most startling endings to a film I have seen in a long time. It is frankly nuts. Yet, it ensures 28 Years Later (2025) is a modern horror classic, pulsing with urgency, style, and an almost unbearable truth: that the most terrifying viruses don’t infect the body—they infect the soul. Bring on the sequel!

Mark: 9.5 out of 11



Cinema review: The Phoenician Scheme (2025) – plus Wes Anderson’s Top 11 films ranked in order of favourite!

Cinema review: The Phoenician Scheme (2025)

Directed by Wes Anderson

Screenplay by Wes Anderson

Story by Wes Anderson and Roman Coppola

Produced by Wes Anderson, Steven Rales, Jeremy Dawson, John Peet

Cinematography by Bruno Delbonnel

Main cast: Benicio del Toro, Mia Threapleton, Michael Cera, Riz Ahmed, Tom Hanks, Bryan Cranston, Mathieu Amalric, Richard Ayoade, Jeffrey Wright, Scarlett Johansson, Benedict Cumberbatch, Rupert Friend, Hope Davis, etc.



Reviewing films for me is a form of study—a way to sharpen one’s eye, expand one’s perspective, and gain insight into the craft of filmmaking. It’s a dialogue between the film and the viewer, where curiosity, analysis, and empathy fuel a deeper appreciation for the storytelling process. Yet, Wes Anderson’s films often feel unreviewable in the traditional sense because they exist entirely within their own meticulously crafted universe—one governed by its own visual grammar, emotional tone, and narrative rhythm. His work defies conventional cinematic benchmarks not because it fails to meet them, but because it invents new ones.

His films are stylized to the point of abstraction: symmetrical compositions, pastel palettes, theatrical performances, deadpan dialogue, and storybook framing devices. These are not aesthetic flourishes added to conventional storytelling—they are the storytelling. Every element is calibrated to serve a singular artistic vision that prioritizes mood, irony, and emotional restraint in a way that often bypasses mainstream emotional cues. As a result, trying to evaluate Anderson’s films on the basis of relatability or realism can feel like trying to critique a painting for not being a photograph. You either enter his world and accept its rules, or you don’t.



The Phoenician Scheme (2025) is a whimsically convoluted tale of betrayal, bureaucracy, and buried emotion, anchored by a surprisingly tender pairing: Benicio Del Toro and Mia Threapleton as an estranged father and daughter navigating a pastel-hued world of espionage, assassination attempts and eccentricity. Del Toro brings his signature quiet intensity—filtered through Anderson’s signature deadpan—as Anatole “Zsa-Zsa” Korda, a controversial businessman seeking backing from an array of peculiar business types. Threapleton, in a breakout performance, plays Sister Liesl, a guarded young nun.

As always, Anderson’s aesthetic is immaculately controlled—every frame a still life, every line delivered with just-so detachment. But where the plot sometimes meanders through its own labyrinth of quirk, the film’s emotional core remains grounded in Del Toro and Threapleton’s quiet push-and-pull: a relationship built on misread intentions, half-kept promises, and a strange kind of inherited stoicism. Michael Cera is on splendid form too as Bjørn Lund, a Norwegian entomologist, tutor, and Korda’s administrative assistant.

Overall, The Phoenician Scheme (2025) is best enjoyed as a moving art installation and while thematically strong in terms of the father-daughter-reconciliation theme, doesn’t reach the narrative heights of Anderson’s best work. It’s a visually charming and emotionally sincere entry—proof that even in a world of plane crashes, quirky business deals, weird relatives, religious fervour, eccentric guerrillas, the arc of connection between a father and daughter can still feel radical.

Mark: 7.5 out of 11



Wes Anderson’s Top 11 films ranked in order of MY favourites!

1. Rushmore (1998)

2. The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014)

3. The Royal Tenenbaums (2001)

4. Bottle Rocket (1996)

5. Asteroid City (2023)

6. Isle of Dogs (2018)

7. Moonrise Kingdom (2012)

8. The Darjeeling Limited (2007)

9. The Phoenician Scheme (2025)

10. The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou (2004)

11. The French Dispatch (2021)











Cinema Review: Mission Impossible – The Final Reckoning (2025) plus my 1-8 ranking of the franchise.

CINEMA REVIEW: MISSION IMPOSSIBLE – THE FINAL RECKONING

Directed by Christopher McQuarrie

Written by Christopher McQuarrie & Erik Jendresen

Based on Mission: Impossible by Bruce Geller

Produced by Tom Cruise & Christopher McQuarrie

Main Cast: Tom Cruise, Hayley Atwell, Ving Rhames, Simon Pegg, Henry Czerny, Angela Bassett, Pom Klementieff, Esai Morales, Holt McCallany, Janet McTeer, Mark Gatiss, Nick Offerman, Tramell Tillman, Shea Wigham, Rolf Saxon, etc.

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



Christopher McQuarrie returns to helm the final chapter of Mission: Impossible, delivering exactly what fans have come to expect—exquisite stunt work, globe-trotting chaos, MacGuffins galore, and Tom Cruise running like the fate of cinema depends on it. What stands out during Dead Reckoning (2025) is McQuarrie’s deft layering of callbacks from across the franchise: masks, betrayals, teamwork, sacrifice and even thematic echoes to Ethan Hunt’s original arc as a man constantly outpaced by the very institutions he serves. I mean bringing back Rolf Saxon as banished CIA analyst, William Donloe, from the first film is absolute genius.

Further highlights include the icy St Matthew Island cabin shootout. Plus, the hauntingly atmospheric silent submarine sequence is an exercise in pure cinematic tension that, while a bit dark on the screen I saw it on, was incredibly designed and delivered. In the final thrilling act McQuarrie and his team flex their editing chops in a virtuoso ticking-clock sequence that cross-cuts a rapidly escalating nuclear threat with a spiraling physical stunt—clearly tipping its hat to Dr. Strangelove but with a modern blockbuster pulse. The bi-plane action that Cruise and the stunt team perform is just breathtaking. Lastly, there was also some emotional weight in certain scenes as Hunt shares touching moments throughout, especially with stalwart, Ving Rhames, Luther Stickell.

But while the ambition is laudable, one can’t help but question whether it all needed to stretch across a bum-numbing three hours, weighed down by dense exposition about AI, allegiance, and global power games. The storytelling sometimes forgets to trust the audience, explaining what we already understand or could intuit. It’s thrilling, yes—but occasionally exhausting, especially as Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One (2023), had done a lot of the heavy work setting up the Entity and Esai Morales as the nemeses of the piece. Still, along with an impressive ensemble cast, expert production team and of course Tom Cruise doing what he does best, McQuarrie proves himself the rare modern action director who respects his audience’s intelligence and patience—even if he tests both.

Mark: 8 out of 11



MISSION IMPOSSIBLE – MY FAVOURITES 1 to 8

  1. Mission ImpossibleFallout (2018)
  2. Mission Impossible – Rogue Nation (2015)
  3. Mission Impossible – Ghost Protocol (2011)
  4. Mission Impossible (1996)
  5. Mission Impossible – Dead Reckoning (2023)
  6. Mission Impossible III (2006)
  7. Mission Impossible – The Final Reckoning (2025)
  8. Mission Impossible II (2000)