Tag Archives: drama

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

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

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


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

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


Halloween Review Special: Werewolf Films – Part #2

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





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

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

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


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

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


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: The Long Walk (2025) – a compelling adaptation of Stephen King’s anti-war allegory!

Cinema Review: The Long Walk (2025)

Directed by Francis Lawrence

Screenplay by JT Mollner

Based on The Long Walk by Stephen King

Produced by Roy Lee, Steven Schneider, Francis Lawrence, Cameron MacConomy

Main Cast: Cooper Hoffman, David Jonsson, Garrett Wareing, Tut Nyuot, Charlie Plummer, Ben Wang, Roman Griffin Davis, Joshua Odjick, Judy Greer, Mark Hamill etc.

Cinematography by Jo Willems

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



This compelling and moving anti-war film was adapted from the Stephen King novel, The Long Walk (1979), originally published under his pseudonym, Richard Bachman. The story is set in a dystopian alternative version of the United States ruled by a totalitarian regime; a new military-driven world order. The plot follows the fifty young male contestants of a gruelling annual walking contest, who must follow a set of rules or face the grim consequences. Ultimately, most of their fates are doomed as only the last boy standing gains the prize.

As an aside, I often wondered why King published under a pseudonym and after a quick net search I found that the author was limited to publishing one book per year, since publishing more would be “unacceptable” to the public. King therefore wanted to write under another name in order to increase his publication without saturating the market for the King “brand”. So, there you go. But what of The Long Walk (2025)? How does it compare to the plethora of other King film adaptations?



Grim, unrelenting, and devastatingly poignant, The Long Walk (2025) transforms a brutal endurance contest into an unmistakable anti-war allegory. Fifty young men, each plucked from a different state, march forward under the banner of national pride and promised glory — but what unfolds is the slow annihilation of their bodies and spirits. The premise, simple on the surface, becomes a searing critique of how nations sacrifice youth for power, money, and hollow ideals.

The film thrives on the camaraderie and conflict between the boys: fleeting alliances form, bitter rivalries crack open, and in moments of exhaustion or terror, we glimpse the fragile humanity beneath their forced bravado. Echoes of The Hunger Games franchise, also directed by Francis Lawrence, are impossible to miss. However, this story clearly influenced The Hunger Games and other examples of survivalist literature. Yet, The Long Walk (2025) is way more rawer, more intimate, and ultimately more scathing in its indictment of systemic cruelty.

Among the excellent ensemble cast, Cooper Hoffman as Ray and David Jonsson as Peter emerge with standout performances. Their characters, drawn together in unlikely connection, add emotional depth to the carnage, grounding the relentless attrition in genuine feeling. As their bond develops, the horror of the “Walk” feels sharper, the futility more unbearable. Overall, aside from slight repetition of action and an ending I’d have preferred to have gone a different way, The Long Walk (2025) carries hypnotic and bloody power. It is both a war story without a battlefield and a coming-of-age tale without the promise of adulthood — a haunting testament to how societies can destroy their own sons in pursuit of an impossible prize.

Mark: 8.5 out of 11


Cinema Review: Eddington (2025) – a daring Western satire on COVID-era America, US politics and the poison of social media!

Cinema Review: Eddington (2025)

Directed by Ari Aster

Written by Ari Aster

Produced by: Lars Knudsen, Ari Aster & Ann Ruark

Main Cast: Joaquin Phoenix, Pedro Pascal, Luke Grimes, Deirdre O’Connell, Micheal Ward, Austin Butler and Emma Stone.

Cinematography by Darius Khondji

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



Ari Aster’s first two horror films, Hereditary (2018) and Midsommar (2019) were rightly critically acclaimed and delivered at the box office too. His third film Beau is Afraid (2023) was a flop when compared and in my view not surprising. The film was arguably, depending on your view, a hilarious, risk-taking arthouse tragi-comedy or a self-indulgent act of egregious career self-sabotage. Safe to say I did not enjoy it, so approached the latest A24-produced film of Aster’s, Eddington (2025), with emotional caution.

Thankfully Aster’s screenplay, characters and all-round production of Eddington (2025), are far more accessible and focused than his third feature. Pedro Pascal and Joaquin Phoenix anchor Eddington (2025) superbly, as Aster delivers a blistering small-town allegory that uses a public health crisis as the spark for something far larger. What begins with Mayor Ted Garcia (Pascal) dutifully following the Governor’s lockdown orders quickly escalates when Sheriff Joe Cross (Phoenix) refuses to comply and runs for Mayor himself. This casts the town and people into a conflict that mirrors America’s own political division.



Phoenix brings his trademark intensity to Sheriff Cross, whose defiance feels equal parts principled and unhinged, while Pascal’s Mayor, revealed to be a corporate puppet, balances him as a leader losing grip on his authority. Thus, Eddington (2025) is a powerful film whose strength lies in the performances and a brave, intelligent screenplay which asks many questions. The main issues I had were under-developed character arcs for Emma Stone’s and Austin Butler’s characters. Further, as in previous films Aster relies heavily on left-field plot turns, which go more for shock, rather than understandable character development. Indeed, the final act Western-style shootout, while incredibly exciting, seems out-of-sync with the thoughtful build-up and drama established in the first hour.

Ultimately, Director Ari Aster resists turning Eddington (2025) into just a COVID-era-morality tale; instead, the film confidently threads together a powerful mix of left and right-wing US politics, toxic masculinity, historical sexual abuse, conspiracy and alternative theories, cultish religious fervour, white saviour virtue-signalling, homegrown terrorism, algorithmic influence of social media, and the creeping threat of corporate greed. Each theme and subplot fold back into the central question: who really controls the narrative in modern America or is it a nation spiraling out of control toward inevitable civil war? The result is a tense, unsettling portrait of a town—and a country—at war with itself.

Mark: 8 out of 11