Tag Archives: Michael Cera

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

Cinema Review: The Running Man (2025)

Directed by Edgar Wright

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

Produced by Simon Kinberg, Nira Park & Edgar Wright

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

Cinematography by Chung-hoon Chung

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



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

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



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

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

Mark: 7 out of 11


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: BARBIE (2023)

Directed by: Greta Gerwig

Written by: Greta Gerwig and Noah Baumbach

Based on Barbie by Mattel

Produced by: David Heyman, Margot Robbie, Tom Ackerley and Robbie Brenner

Cast: Margot Robbie, Ryan Gosling, America Ferrera, Kate McKinnon, Michael Cera, Simu Liu, Helen Mirren, Issa Rae, Rhea Perlman, Will Ferrell, etc.

Cinematography: Rodrigo Prieto

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



I saw Barbie (2023) a few weeks ago but work has been really busy so I am only just getting round to reviewing this cinematic adaptation of a lump of plastic that was moulded into a best selling toy. So, after the critical acclaim received for the excellent rites of passage film, Ladybird (2017), and recently starring in the existential comedic folly that is, White Noise (2022), Greta Gerwig takes the helm for this funny, intelligent, sarcastic and brightly coloured filmic vomit.

Gerwig shares writing duties with Noah Baumbach. These two major talents seem an unlikely duo to adapt a story of about an arguably sexist and outdated doll, that profiled unrealistic body images to the millions of people who owned it. I mean, I have never had a Barbie doll and didn’t really like dolls at all as a kid. I might have had an Action Man, but must admit I did enjoy owning my Star Wars figures. They somehow had more character and worth, despite also being made of synthetic polymer. My point is that Barbie (2023), aside from making money, I do not see any reason for a Barbie film to exist. However, it is to Gerwig and Baumbach’s credit they have crafted a wonderful and funny screenplay to ultimately sell more plastic dolls.



The story finds Margot Robbie’s ridiculously attractive blonde living in a utopian land entirely run by different versions of empowered Barbies. Many of which are played by an energetic who’s-who of an ensemble. Suddenly Barbie is struck by existential dread and a fear of death. Determined to discover why Barbie’s perfect life sucks, she goes on a journey to find the reasons why an anthropomorphic lump of processed oil isn’t going to live forever. Joining her on the trip to the real world is the dopey Ken (Ryan Gosling), who love-stalks Barbie like a pining puppy. Cue Barbie and Ken’s “fish-out-of-water” quest to find whatever in the real world. Yet, after a terrifically imaginative opening series of scenes and sequences, this is where the film starts to unravel.

The opening 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) homage is easily the best thing about Barbie (2023) for me, along with some cracking one-liner gags throughout. Ryan Gosling also steals the show as the dim-witted Ken, whose character arc is ironically way stronger than Barbie’s. Robbie is sparkling as usual but I found the frenzied colours and manic ensemble a little overwhelming for my taste. The film is also way too long with too many unsatisfactory sub-plots, such as America Ferrara’s underwritten real-women-in-crisis narrative. Overall though, Gerwig and Baumbach have great fun satirising the patriarchy and corporate capitalism while at the same time upholding patriarchal values and making $hitload$ of cash in the process.

Mark: 7 out of 11