Tag Archives: Movie Review

Classic Film Review: Matewan (1987)

Classic Film Review: Matewan (1987)

Directed by John Sayles

Written by John Sayles

Produced by Peggy Rajski and Maggie Renzi

Main Cast: Chris Cooper, James Earl Jones, Mary McDonnell, Will Oldham, David Strathairn, Kevin Tighe, Gordon Clapp, Bob Gunton, etc.

Cinematography by Haskell Wexler

** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS **



For me, John Sayles represents almost everything that is admirable about independent filmmaking and is quite simply a phenomenal screenwriter. His best scripts never feel mechanically constructed. They breathe. Characters wander into scenes carrying entire histories with them, and seemingly casual conversations reveal class, politics, relationships, disappointments and decades of buried resentment. Films such as the magnificent, Matewan (1987), Passion Fish (1992), Eight Men Out (1988) and impressive, Lone Star (1996) demonstrate just how sophisticated his writing can be, yet there is rarely anything flashy or self-conscious about it.

Moreover, I also love the sheer pragmatism of the career he built. Sayles understood that being an independent filmmaker didn’t mean pretending Hollywood didn’t exist. He started out writing wonderfully entertaining low-budget genre pictures for Roger Corman — Piranha (1978), The Lady in Red (1979), Alligator (1980) and Battle Beyond the Stars (1980) among them — and went on to become a successful screenwriter and highly regarded script doctor on much bigger Hollywood productions. He could take the money and experience from those assignments and then return to the films that really mattered to him. Rather than waiting for the industry to give him permission to make his movies, he found a way of financing and sustaining them himself.

And perhaps that is why I find Sayles so inspiring. The Hollywood work didn’t dilute his independence — in many ways, it enabled it. Across decades of filmmaking, he retained his curiosity, his integrity and his belief that audiences were intelligent enough to engage with complicated characters and complicated ideas. For any filmmaker trying to make personal work outside the mainstream, John Sayles isn’t simply a great writer-director. He’s a genuine indie filmmaking hero — and proof that it is possible to survive within the film business without allowing the business to define the films you make.

I recently re-watched, Matewan (1987), having not seen it for years. It is a beautifully crafted, deeply humane piece of American cinema in which the personal, political and historical become inseparable. Taking the real-life Matewan coal conflicts of 1920 as his foundation, Sayles creates something far richer than a conventional historical drama. This is a film about miners and their families, immigrants and outsiders, union organisers and company men; about people discovering that their only real strength lies in standing together against corporate bosses prepared to use intimidation, exploitation and outright violence to maintain their power.



There is an incredible humanity running throughout the film. Sayles understands the divisions between these workers — racial, cultural, religious and economic — and therefore never makes their eventual solidarity feel easy or sentimental. The miners have to overcome suspicion and prejudice before recognising that the forces dividing them are also helping to keep them powerless. At the centre of it all is Chris Cooper, superb as union organiser Joe Kenehan: quiet, intelligent, principled and determined to prevent an already volatile situation from descending into violence. Around him Sayles constructs an entire community, allowing individual lives, marriages, friendships and rivalries to exist alongside the larger political struggle.

The film is also visually magnificent. Working with the great cinematographer Haskell Wexler, Sayles gives Matewan (1987) a rich, earthy, almost tactile quality. The mountains, forests, railway tracks, wooden houses and coal-blackened interiors don’t merely provide an interesting period backdrop; they seem to contain the history of the people living and working within them. There is mud, smoke, sweat, blood, tears and darkness everywhere, contrasted with the natural beauty of the West Virginia landscape. The mines themselves feel oppressive and dangerous, while the wider landscape can appear both beautiful and imprisoning. Further, while these people live among extraordinary natural beauty they are being economically trapped by the company that controls the coal mines.

Rather than building the film around conventional movie stars, Sayles assembled the kind of extraordinary American character actors who make every face and every voice feel as though it belongs in this world. Chris Cooper – in his debut feature – gives the film its moral centre, while James Earl Jones brings enormous dignity, warmth and authority to ‘Few Clothes’ Johnson. David Strathairn is wonderfully memorable as Sid Hatfield, and Mary McDonnell brings intelligence and emotional complexity to Elma Radnor. Then there is Kevin Tighe as Hickey, one of the Baldwin-Felts agents sent into Matewan to intimidate the miners and break their resistance. Tighe gives the film a genuinely menacing presence: smiling, controlled and utterly comfortable with the threat of violence.

The combination of historical detail, political conviction, memorable acting and direction, magnificent cinematography, beautifully observed characterisation and gripping storytelling is what makes Matewan (1987) such a remarkable achievement. Sayles takes a specific labour dispute in a West Virginia mining town and turns it into something both intimate and expansive: a story about solidarity, dignity, prejudice, exploitation and the terrible price ordinary people can pay when they challenge entrenched power. Yet for all its anger, Matewan (1987) never loses its compassion. Sayles remains interested in people first. It is muscular, intelligent, visually beautiful and deeply moving filmmaking, made with enormous integrity — and one of the finest examples of just how powerful American independent cinema can be.

Mark: 9.5 out of 11


Classic Film Review: The Master (2012)

Classic Film Review: The Master (2012)

Directed by Paul Thomas Anderson

Written by Paul Thomas Anderson

Produced by: JoAnne Sellar, Daniel Lupi, Paul Thomas Anderson, Megan Ellison etc.

Main cast: Joaquin Phoenix, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Amy Adams, Laura Dern, Jesse Plemons, Ambyr Childers, Rami Malek, etc.

Cinematography by Mihai Mălaimare Jr.

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



Of late, I have been watching, as research to develop a feature film concerned with religion, faith and complex human behaviour, many religious themed films. Indeed, I especially love films and documentaries about cults. Especially where religion is used to control human beings and make them do crazy things. What possesses another person to want to control others? Power, lust, greed or all of the above?

Cult leaders are often extremely charismatic and talented people too. Further, they can be dangerous people who use their influence to make money, commit crime, manipulate and abuse others. Thus from a human and dramatic perspective, cults and religious characters are always fascinating to write about.

In Paul Thomas Anderson’s The Master (2012), he explores the relationship between a lost soul drawn to a movement that may or may not be a reflection of Scientology. Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix), a World War II veteran is pulled toward Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman), a commanding leader of a cult known as “The Cause”. But, arguably, not much happens other than Quell having a series of breakdowns amidst post-traumatic stress and alcoholism, before taking his chaos and violence into Dodd’s church and family. Anderson is one of the great humanist and existential filmmakers working today, but The Master (2012), having watched it at least twice, I found it too impenetrable and alienating for me.

Yet, in my filmic research I have watched The Master (2012) a third time and have now identified a number of reasons why I have not connected with the film. They are both structural and thematic. My expectations were that this film would be a deep historical dive into the establishing of L. Ron Hubbard’s creation of Scientology. Albeit, it would be a veiled one to avoid the ire of the Scientologist organisation, who are known to attack people or companies that critique their ways. So, I am complicit there because ultimately one should not judge a work before watching it. Anderson’s choices and approach are way more personal than a traditional biopic and I should not be so arrogant to expect him to make a film just for me.

So, with my expectations on an in-depth analysis of the cult of Scientology quelled, structurally The Master (2012) further jars with me on a story level. Such narrative cracks appear all through the overall character arc of character Freddie Quell. If the film, as the first act establishes well, effectively delivered a character study of a sex-addicted, alcoholic, PTSD suffering, angry World War 2 veteran struggling to cope with existence, I could certainly have been compelled by that. Ultimately, The Master (2012) is a dramatic two-hander facing Quell’s out-of-control, human car-crash versus Lancaster’s intelligent and controlling patriarch. Anderson also once again, as he did in Hard Eight (1996), Boogie Nights (1997), and There Will Be Blood (2007), explores the father-son power dynamic between these two characters.



Yet, introducing Lancaster and “The Cause” to Quell’s character development has little or no effect on him. I understand Anderson may be saying Quell is a lost soul, but what emotional impact or feeling can the audience to take from this? Quell finishes the film relatively unchanged by Lancaster’s auditing, “spiritual” advice and fatherly tutelage. Yes, in real life, people often don’t change and behave the same throughout their lives committed to the same self-destructive behaviour. However, I felt that if Quell could not change for the better perhaps he could have gone even deeper into despair within his religious experience.

To conclude: Paul Thomas Anderson’s The Master (2012) is, on a purely cinematic level, close to technically perfect. It contains some of the finest acting ever committed to screen, particularly from Philip Seymour Hoffman as Lancaster Dodd. Hoffman manages to make Dodd charismatic, ridiculous, paternal, threatening and strangely vulnerable, often within the same scene. His performance is matched by Joaquin Phoenix’s extraordinary physical transformation as Freddie Quell, but it is Hoffman who fascinates me most: the booming confidence of the public performer repeatedly giving way to flashes of insecurity, anger and desperation whenever his authority is challenged.

Technically, the film is equally remarkable. Mihai Mălaimare Jr.’s 65mm cinematography gives the images an extraordinary richness and clarity, while the colours, period detail, compositions and use of light make virtually every frame feel meticulously constructed. There are moments when The Master (2012) is simply one of the most beautiful American films of the twenty-first century. And yet, for all that mastery, I have never enjoyed the film as much as its critical reputation suggests I should.

Its central problem for me is the almost broken-backed, water-and-oil combination of Freddie Quell’s under-nourished emotional journey and the film’s tantalising but ultimately limited exploration of Dodd’s movement, “The Cause”. The parallels with Scientology are obvious and fascinating, yet Anderson seems reluctant to investigate the psychology, mechanics and seductive power of cults with the depth the material promises. Instead, the film repeatedly retreats towards the relationship between Freddie and Dodd — a relationship performed magnificently but one in which Freddie’s emotional development can feel frustratingly elusive.

Mark: 8.5 out of 11


Classic Film Review: Woman in the Dunes (1964)

Classic Film Review: Woman in the Dunes (1964)

Directed by Hiroshi Teshigahara

Screenplay by Kōbō Abe
– Based on The Woman in the Dunes
by Kōbō Abe


Produced by Kiichi Ichikawa and Tadashi Ono

Main cast: Eiji Okada, Kyōko Kishida, Kōji Mitsui

Cinematography by Hiroshi Segawa

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



I’d never seen Woman in the Dunes (1964) before, but after watching the director’s cut on the BFI Player, it has now catapulted into one of the best films I have ever seen. This could be first-watch bias, however, thematically, emotionally, philosophically and stylistically speaking, it absolutely touched upon, connected and spoke to me greatly about my life’s experiences and the human condition.

Niki Junpei (Eiji Okada), a frustrated schoolteacher and amateur entomologist from Tokyo, travels to a remote coastal village in search of rare insects. After missing the last bus home, he accepts an invitation to stay overnight with a young widow (Kyōko Kishida) who lives alone in a hut at the bottom of a vast sand dune. He soon learns that her husband and daughter were killed in a sandstorm and that she spends every night shovelling away the endless sand that threatens to bury her home. Though Junpei initially sees himself as a temporary guest, strange comments from the villagers hint that something more sinister is unfolding.

The following morning, Junpei discovers that the rope ladder leading out of the sand pit has been removed. Trapped by the villagers, he realizes he has been chosen to become the widow’s permanent companion and labourer, helping her dig sand that the village secretly sells for profit. As he struggles to escape, Junpei learns that the widow is also a prisoner of the community, both of them controlled through dependence on the villagers for food and water. What begins as an accidental overnight stay becomes a nightmare of confinement, survival, and the gradual erosion of freedom beneath the relentless weight of the sand.



Hiroshi Teshigahara’s Woman in the Dunes (1964) is one of those rare films where image, character, theme and performance become inseparable. Shot in pristine black and white by cinematographer Hiroshi Segawa, it is visually astonishing: every grain of sand, bead of sweat and shadow across a human body is rendered with an almost microscopic intensity. The beauty of the photography is deliberately juxtaposed with the darkness of Niki Junpei’s predicament. What begins as an innocent expedition to collect insects becomes an existential prison, as he finds himself trapped by commerce, a surrogate marriage and, most powerfully, the natural wall of sand that pins both him and the unnamed widow to their strange subterranean existence.

The sand is both physical and metaphorical. It shifts, pours, consumes and rebuilds itself, turning Junpei’s captivity into a distinctly Sisyphean struggle. Every attempt at escape merely seems to return him to where he started, yet what makes Junpei such a compelling character is his absolute refusal to surrender. He builds ladders, devises increasingly ingenious escape plans, attempts to train crows to carry messages and continually tries to outwit the villagers who have ensnared him. Each failure intensifies rather than diminishes his determination. Like Sisyphus pushing the rock back up the hill, Junpei is condemned to confront an obstacle that endlessly renews itself.

Yet Woman in the Dunes (1964) is far more complicated than a straightforward story of imprisonment. Junpei is trapped by the villagers, but also by economic necessity, social expectation and an enforced domestic relationship that gradually begins to resemble a marriage. The villagers need the sand removed; the widow needs a man to help her survive; Junpei needs water, food and eventually human companionship. Teshigahara transforms this bizarre situation into a miniature society in which freedom itself becomes increasingly difficult to define. The more Junpei fights against his surroundings, the more deeply he becomes connected to them.

The relationship between Junpei and the widow, played with extraordinary physical and emotional commitment by Eiji Okada and Kyōko Kishida, gives the film its human core. Their intimacy moves between hostility, dependency, tenderness and desire without ever becoming conventional romance. Although sex is an important element of the film, Teshigahara rarely needs explicit imagery. Bodies appear as silhouettes, fragments and outlines; Kishida’s naked form is often suggested rather than displayed. A shoulder, a curve, a shadow or sand clinging to skin can communicate more than an explicit image ever could. One sees more from less throughout.



That principle extends to the entire film. Teshigahara makes the smallest details monumental. Sand resembles water, skin resembles landscape and the walls of the pit sometimes appear infinite. Extreme close-ups turn grains of sand into an entire universe, while wider compositions emphasise just how insignificant these two people are against the enormous shifting landscape surrounding them. The immaculate monochrome photography makes the film simultaneously beautiful and suffocating. The sand can look almost luminous in one shot and utterly threatening in the next.

There is also a wonderful irony at the heart of Junpei’s predicament. He arrives as an entomologist searching for insects, only to become a specimen himself: captured, observed and contained within a pit from which he cannot escape. The collector has become the collected. Teshigahara never labours the metaphor because he does not need to. It exists naturally within the imagery and situation, allowing the audience to discover its implications rather than having them explained.

Woman in the Dunes (1964) is virtually flawless in character, theme, cinematography, direction and performance. More than sixty years after its release, it remains startlingly modern and visually unlike almost anything else. Its central image — two human beings endlessly shovelling away a mountain of sand that will simply return tomorrow — is cinema distilled into an unforgettable metaphor for existence itself.

The only negative? Why didn’t I watch it sooner?

Mark: 10.5 out 11


The Cinema Fix presents: 12 Favourite Films of 2025!

The Cinema Fix presents: 12 Favourite Films of 2025!

Happy 2026! I feel like I have watched even more films last year at the cinema and the many streaming platforms.

My instinct is it’s been a decent year overall of quality films, especially from independent or what one would class as indie-minded filmmakers. The bigger budgeted films or traditional blockbusters have been mainly not great or I just didn’t enjoy them. Aside from perhaps the entertaining Mission: Impossible finale.

Of all the genres, horror has really risen to the top in terms of overall quality the last few years, doing big box office and being recognised at awards ceremonies too. Having said that, and this could be my age and is nostalgia-driven, I find myself enjoying older, cult and more obscure film releases than the today’s modern film releases.

Anyway, here my my 12 FAVOURITE films of 2025. Not the BEST films, but the ones I enjoyed the most. There’s a few high quality, critically acclaimed films which do not make the list including Train Dreams (2025), Sorry, Baby (2025), Eddington (2025), Warfare (2025), Good Boy (2025), The Brutalist (2024) and I’m Still Here (2024), but remember these are my FAVOURITE films of the year.

For reference my favourite films of 2024 are below and here.


ALL OF US STRANGERS (2023)
AMERICAN FICTION
(2023)
HERETIC
(2024)
THE HOLDOVERS
(2023)
THE IRON CLAW
(2023)
LATE NIGHT WITH THE DEVIL
(2023)
MONSTER
(2023)
POOR THINGS
(2023)
THE QUIET GIRL
(2023)
SPEAK NO EVIL
(2024)
THE SUBSTANCE
(2024)
THE ZONE OF INTEREST
(2023)



Twelve Favourite Films of 2025

28 YEARS LATER (2025)


BLACK BAG (2025)


BRING HER BACK (2025)


BUGONIA (2025)


A DIFFERENT MAN (2024)


THE GORGE (2025)


THE LONG WALK (2025)


MARTY SUPREME (2025)


ONE BATTLE AFTER ANOTHER (2025)


SINNERS (2025)


WAKE UP DEAD MAN (2025)


WEAPONS (2025)

Netflix Film Reviews including: A House of Dynamite (2025), Ballad of a Small Player (2025) Frankenstein (2025), Jay Kelly (2025) and Wake Up, Dead Man (2025)

Netflix Film Reviews – Winter 2025

Netflix’s auteur-driven cinema push has seen the platform hand enormous creative freedom—and budgets—to filmmakers like Noah Baumbach, Rian Johnson, Kathryn Bigelow, Edward Berger, and Guillermo del Toro, pairing them with world-class casts and top-tier crews to produce works of unmistakably cinematic ambition.

The paradox is that many of these films—designed with theatrical scale, craft, and seriousness—ultimately premiere to mass audiences via Netflix’s online platform rather than traditional movie theatres, reflecting a fundamental shift in how prestige cinema is financed, distributed, and culturally consumed in the streaming era.

What can you do? Well, pay the Netflix subscription and watch them from the comfort of one’s living room. Here are my reviews with usual marks out of eleven. Happy 2026!



A House of Dynamite (2025)

Kathryn Bigelow’s A House of Dynamite (2025) is an expertly directed and intriguingly structured disaster movie, unfolding across three interlocking chapters that chart a nuclear attack on the United States by an unknown enemy. Each section reframes the same escalating crisis through a different lens—the White House intelligence apparatus, the military response, and the political sphere—culminating in the perspective of the President, played with sensitivity and gravitas by Idris Elba.

As events overlap and repeat, the script cleverly ratchets up tension, revealing new information through subtle shifts in context, while Bigelow’s command of pacing and scale, combined with sterling filmmaking and a who’s-who ensemble cast, keeps the film gripping on a moment-to-moment level. Yet for all its craft, the film ultimately plays like a fear-mongering piece of propaganda and an implicit recruitment advert for the U.S. government and military. Its refusal to name a perpetrator suggest the U.S. has many enemies thus justifying huge spending on defence and weapons. The abrupt ending could be interpreted as brave storytelling, but for me it undercut the suspense, leaving the experience feeling oddly hollow and non-plussed rather than provocatively unresolved.

Mark: 6 out of 11



Ballad of a Small Player (2025)

The Ballad of a Small Player (2025) follows Lord Doyle, played by a magnetic Colin Farrell, as he lies low in Macau, numbing himself on casino floors with deep debt, bad bets, and the stubborn hope that the next hand will fix everything. Farrell is phenomenal here, turning compulsive gambling into a form of slow self-harm, his performance layered with exhaustion, bravado, and quiet panic. When he’s offered a fragile lifeline by the enigmatic Dao Ming, played with poised restraint by Fala Chen, the film hints at redemption.

Director Edward Berger and his production team deliver a ravishingly beautiful film, capturing Macau’s neon glow and claustrophobic interiors as both seduction and trap. At its best, the film is a melancholy character study about addiction for a protagonist who is often deeply annoying and morally bankrupt. However, the final act falters, introducing fuzzy, unearned twists that soften the film’s harder truths and dilute its emotional impact. While the journey is engrossing and Farrell’s performance alone makes the film worth seeing, the conclusion ultimately cheats the audience out of a powerful Uncut Gems (2019)-style denouement.

Mark: 7 out of 11



Frankenstein (2025)

Is Guillermo Del Toro’s big budget adaptation of Mary Shelley’s classic gothic novel really necessary? There are much better versions out there, yet, Netflix and Del Toro certainly thought so. Oscar Isaac is a great actor but miscast or misdirected here for me. Then again, even in Shelley’s seminal novel Dr Frankenstein is a colossal whinger! Thankfully, Jacob Elordi gives a hearty and emotional rendition of the tragic creature, who again is the most interesting character. Safe to say the majestic production values provide a visual and aural feast, but, aside from a scintillating opening in the North Pole, Del Toro’s slog of a script ultimately fails to bring Shelley’s story to life in a sustained enjoyable fashion. Don’t get me wrong, the production and design is of the highest order but I just didn’t connect emotionally or philosophically or even as a horror fan.

Mark: 6 out of 11



Jay Kelly (2025)

Jay Kelly (2025) is a mild, reflective comedy drama that sees George Clooney doing what he’s long perfected: playing a famous film star grappling with past and present relationships while barely appearing to break a sweat. As Kelly travels to Tuscany to collect a lifetime achievement award, the film drifts between memories, regrets, and professional compromises, offering Clooney ample opportunity to deploy his trademark charm—stretching his range (not), but doing so with effortless ease. The more grounded emotional texture comes from Adam Sandler, who is quietly excellent as Kelly’s long-suffering manager, bringing a lived-in, humane quality that feels more emotionally honest.

Director Noah Baumbach has delivered far sharper and more incisive work and Jay Kelly (2025) never quite pushes its Hollywood satire of spoiled first-world creatives as far as it could. Still, there’s an undeniable pleasure in Baumbach’s dialogue and structure, with clear echoes of Wild Strawberries (1957) and 8½ (1963) filtering through in its introspective, memory-haunted moments. The film ultimately has its cake and eats it—content to indulge its characters rather than interrogate them—but it remains a very pleasant cake all the same: soft, well-made, and easy to enjoy.

Mark: 7 out of 11



Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery (2025)

Wake Up Dead Man (2025) stands as the clear high point of Netflix’s auteur-driven releases from November and December 2025, confirming Rian Johnson as a post-modern master of the classical whodunnit. Once again drawing from the elegant clockwork of Agatha Christie’s works, Johnson constructs a devilishly complicated mystery centred on the murder of the tyrannical Monsignor Wicks, played with thunderous menace by Josh Brolin. The suspect list is gloriously stacked—church staff and parishioners portrayed by Glenn Close, Jeremy Renner, Kerry Washington, Andrew Scott, Cailee Spaeny, Daryl McCormack, Thomas Haden Church, and a young visiting priest, Jud Duplenticy (Josh O’Connor)—each performance feeding into a puzzle that’s as playful as it is precise.

What elevates the film beyond genre excellence is its sharply observed character work, particularly in the portrayal of Wicks as a Trump-like authoritarian figure ruling his congregation through fear and humiliation. Johnson smartly frames the mystery as a moral clash between Old Testament wrath and New Testament compassion, allowing the film to interrogate power, faith, and hypocrisy without ever losing its entertainment value. The script crackles with brilliant one-liners and sly, witty exchanges, especially when Daniel Craig’s Poirot-style detective peels back layers of deceit with theatrical relish. Among the ensemble, Josh O’Connor delivers a superbly nuanced performance, injecting emotional specificity and intelligence that rise above what could have been more generic material. Clever, funny, thematically sharp, and immaculately engineered, Wake Up Dead Man isn’t just Netflix’s best auteur offering of the season—it’s one of Johnson’s most satisfying achievements to date.

Mark: 9 out of 11


Horror film review round-up including: Black Phone 2 (2025), Companion (2025), Good Boy (2024), Presence (2025), Together (2025) and others. . .

Autumn Horror Film Reviews

In the languid drift of autumn, when Halloween’s shadow lengthens and winter begins its slow, expectant inhale, the world seems to slip into a more suggestive register—one where every rustling leaf feels like a whispered omen. It is, of course, the most appropriate season to surrender to the year’s latest horror releases, as though communing with these cinematic phantoms might prepare us—spiritually, aesthetically—for the deeper darkness to come.

Which basically means I have been catching up with some 2025 horror film releases I missed at the cinema during autumn. A couple of these probably warrant more in depth solo reviews, but as I edge closer to old age and the reaper’s scythe, I am economizing somewhat.

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



Black Phone 2 (2025)

Scott Derrickson and co-writer C. Robert Cargill deliver a sequel to The Black Phone (2021) with Mason Thames, Madeleine McGraw, Jeremy Davies, and Ethan Hawke reprising their roles from the first chiller. I actually enjoyed this one more than the original, which despite the clunky set-up, finds the siblings and others trapped in a teen camp hit by a blizzard. They find themselves hunted and haunted by both The Grabber (Hawke) and other ghostly spirits haunting the area. Derrikson throws a lot of horror tropes and the characters (literally in certain scenes) at the walls, and much of it sticks. Having said that, I still don’t think The Grabber is the scariest villain ever committed to screen, despite Hawke’s presence. (Mark: 7.5 out of 11)


Companion (2025)

Companion (2025) feels like Garland’s Ex Machina (2014) colliding elegantly with Fargeat’s feral Revenge (2017)—a sunny day-horror fable that hides its nastiest surprises in plain sight. Its twists are sharp, its aesthetic confident, and its ideas far more ambitious than its modest surface first suggests. I would have admired it even more were it not, on occasions, completely dumb. Plus, the occasional drift into a comedic register undercuts its more incisive moments. The beautiful Sophie Thatcher once again commands the screen with the same riveting presence she brought to Heretic (2024). Mark: 8 out of 11.


Graduation Day (1981)

Thanks to Bobby Carroll’s site for reminding me about slasher film, Graduation Day (1981), as I had completely forgotten about it. High quality kills and gore mask a screenplay which has more nudity than character development. Yet, I am a sucker for these 1980’s exploitation flicks and this is a watchable one. Mark: 6 out of 11


Good Boy (2025)

An low-budget horror film triumph with Ben Leonberg directing his own dog, Indy, a Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever, as the only witness to nasty spirits threatening his owner. The film emerges as a formal tour-de-force, whose meticulous composition and deliberate pacing elevate its simple premise into something unexpectedly resonant. Its visual precision and rhythmic control shape an atmosphere of dread that feels more sculpted than sensational, grounding the film in an emotionally impactful narrative about loyalty, vulnerability, and the unsettling spaces between trust and fear. For all its craft, and impressive animal direction, the film doesn’t quite sustain a relentless menace throughout. But, it remains a memorable feature debut from Leonberg and Indy the dog. Mark: 8.5 out of 11.



Presence (2025)

In Presence (2024), David Koepp and Steven Soderbergh demonstrate just how potent a one-location horror film can be when discipline and imagination converge. The entire piece unfolds like a controlled exhale: a slow-build structure that trusts the audience to lean in, and a drifting, almost contemplative camera that adopts the ghost’s POV to quietly—sometimes imperceptibly—reveal fragments of the story. Instead of overplaying its hand, the film slow-drips its plot elements with an elegance that keeps tension suspended in the air, letting unease pool in the corners of an otherwise ordinary space. By the time it reaches its finale, Presence (2024) delivers not only a surge of emotional and thematic clarity but two genuinely surprising twists—earned, unsettling, and executed with the kind of precision that affirms both writer and directors’ mastery of the form. Mark: 8.5 out of 11.


Restless (2024)

Really good independent British thriller with Lyndsey Marshal as a nurse, Nicky, who finds herself terrorized by 24-hour partying thug neighbours. Writer-director Jed Hart creates great empathy and identification with the situation and it’s a shame decent British films like this get short shrift at the multiplexes. Nicky’s spiral into insomnia-driven madness is compelling as her desperate attempts to sleep give way to vengeance. But the film’s final act tonal turn denies us a full-on descent into suburban hell, for something amenable but unfortunately less twisted. Mark: 7.5 out of 11


The Rule of Jenny Pen (2025)

The Rule of Jenny Pen is an original, weird, and powerful shock of a film — a mash-up of psychological thriller and nursing-home horror that lands far more often than it stumbles. Its greatest strength is, without question, the towering performances at its centre. Geoffrey Rush and John Lithgow, two masters of calibrated gravitas, turn the film’s cat-and-mouse mind game into a gripping acting showcase. Together, they elevate the film’s themes of aging, vulnerability, and institutional neglect into something both unsettling and strangely beautiful. The plotting, however, does get a bit sticky toward the end. The final act jars slightly, causing me confusion in an otherwise tight psychological narrative. Still, even as the story wobbles a tad, the film’s originality, eerie tone, and powerhouse acting keep it compelling. Mark: 8 out of 11


The Woman in the Yard (2025)

The Woman in the Yard (2025) rises on the strength of Danielle Deadwyler’s commanding lead performance. As a mother trying to protect her two children from a funereal spirit lingering in their backyard, Deadwyler grounds the supernatural dread with raw emotional honesty. The child actors match her with a believable, lived-in family dynamic that makes the haunting feel all the more personal. Where the film falters is in its structure. The script leans heavily on crow-barred flashbacks that interrupt rather than enrich the unfolding tension. A more linear approach could have built a stronger emotional momentum, allowing the story’s grief, guilt, and mental illness to accumulate naturally instead of stuttering backward at key moments. (Mark: 6 out of 11)


Together (2025)

Together (2025) gets an immediate boost from the casting of real-life couple Alison Brie and Dave Franco, whose natural chemistry gives the film an authentic emotional core. As a pair trying to rebuild their relationship after moving from the city to a rural small town, they convincingly inhabit the tensions, resentments, and unspoken fears that surface long before the horror does. Their incompatible expectations feel lived-in — and once they tumble into a sinkhole and the strange bodily transformations begin, that emotional groundwork makes the nightmare hit harder.

I loved the trailer for this film, which promised a truly skin-crawling descent into body-horror chaos. The final product, while atmospheric and often engrossing, doesn’t fully deliver on that promise. It pulls back when it could push further, leaving some of the more disgusting, surreal possibilities off-screen. But the ending — bold, surprising and unexpectedly poignant — is a fantastic payoff. Even if the film doesn’t always reach the extremes it teases, Together still manages to leave a memorably twisted impression. Mark: 8.5 out of 11


Fix Films presents a new horror short: The Suicide Shift (2025)

THE SUICIDE SHIFT (2025)

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 she takes the most emotionally draining phone call she could receive.



Cast

Julia Florimo as Carmilla Ferry

Myles Horgan as Russell Schaeffer

Felicia Kaspar as Lucy (Carmilla’s daughter)


Crew

Director, Producer and Written by Paul Laight

Cinematography by Petros Gioumpasis

Sound recordist: Ali Kivanc

Clapper / Camera Assistant: Ben Bogdan-Hodgson

Make-Up: Georgie Lang

Set Designer: Melissa Zajk



© 2026 A Fix Films Production

Must-See Horror Films on SHUDDER. . . Mostly!

SHUDDER HORROR FILM REVIEWS (2024)

Looking for something horrifying to watch during Halloween. Well you could do far worse than getting a Shudder subscription.

A few months a year I sign up and binge bloody disgusting and scary films as my previous reviews testify. Check them out here!

This year I have done the same and watched some really good, terribly bad and hideously ugly horror films via Shudder. Peruse my short reviews below. In alphabetical order with marks out of eleven.



Host (2020)

A terrific low-budget British indie film that explores the dangers of angering ghosts during a Zoom call. While the mildly irritating characters don’t realize they can simply end the online séance, it’s still a spooky, suspenseful, and fast-paced horror flick. I’m not usually a fan of the found footage genre, but this was very well made and highly creepy. Mark: 8 out of 11


In A Violent Nature (2024)

This director will probably have an amazing career. But this film was, despite some wonderful practical-effect driven gore, SO slow and boring. The film satirizes classic horror tropes, mocking their clichés with a heavy hand. The director’s pretentious style and inflated sense of artistic ego drain the audience of any real suspense or tension. The attempt at highbrow genre obfuscation creates a hollow spectacle. Shot from behind, the killer stalks twenty-somethings in the woods in the style of Son of Saul (2015) meets every slasher film ever. Ultimately, suffering from atrocious dialogue, bad plotting and weak characterization, the visual flair fails to save a film which feels more like an exercise in intellectual vanity than a gripping thriller. Mark: 5 out of 11


Late Night With The Devil (2023)

With echoes of the recent Inside No. 9 (3×3 quiz show episode) and BBC show Ghostwatch (1992), and of course The Exorcist (1973), Late Night With the Devil (2023) is one of the most enjoyable and imaginative horror films I have seen in sometime.  One of the best horror films of the decade. Check out my longer review here. Mark: 9 out of 11


Pyewacket (2017)

Nicole Munoz’ isolated teenager summons a witch via a ritual and unleashes something not particularly scary or even present. All set-up and no catharsis! A waste of everyone’s time. Mark: 4 out of 11


Revealer (2022)

One of the best pitches I have read in a while – “A stripper and religious protester are trapped together in a peep show booth and must come together to survive the apocalypse in 1980’s Chicago!” does not unfortunately live up to expectations. However, there’s a decent female buddy dynamic and some imaginative gore which channels early Raimi, Jackson and Carpenter. Mark: 6 out of 11


Room 237 (2012)

For Stanley Kubrick completists, this fascinating documentary is divided into nine sections, with each one exploring a different aspect of The Shining (1980). Hidden theories buried under the surface relate to faked moon landings, Native American genocide and the holocaust are some of the ideas chucked at the wall. While some may stick and some don’t, it’s lovingly made and always fascinating. Mark: 8 out of 11


Skinamarink (2022)

Skinamarink was a major letdown for me, especially given the high expectations after its impressive financial success. With a $15,000 budget, it garnered over $2.1 million at the box office, creating a buzz around its unconventional style and promise of fresh horror. But despite its atmospheric tension and experimental approach, I felt the film didn’t live up to the hype. The slow pacing, abstract narrative, and reliance on ambient sounds and shadows left me unmoved. It’s an original, art-house horror so surprised it crossed over. Filmmaker, Kyle Edward Ball, clearly has a distinctive voice though. Mark: 6 out of 11


Stop Motion (2023)

The animation in Stopmotion (2023) showcases Robert Morgan’s genius, with his signature blend of hauntingly detailed stop-motion work that creates an eerie, tactile atmosphere. His craftsmanship brings a nightmarish quality to life, adding unsettling textures and depth that pull the audience into a world of psychological horror. However, while the animation excels, the plot—reminiscent of Repulsion—struggles to connect on a human level. The surreal visuals overshadow the character’s psychological journey, making it hard for viewers to engage with the protagonist’s inner turmoil, leaving the story feeling more distant and abstract than compelling. Mark: 6.5 out of 11


Superdeep (2020)

The Russian horror film Superdeep feels like a patchwork of borrowed elements from better-known sci-fi and horror movies, but without their finesse or originality. It mimics the claustrophobic tension of The Thing, the body horror of Alien, and the descent into madness of Event Horizon, yet fails to capture the essence that made those films effective. Derivative and ineffective, it at least has some ridiculously bad monster effects at the end that had me laughing. Mark: 4 out of 11


The Coffee Table (2022)

The Coffee Table is a twisted and darkly humorous horror film that pushes the boundaries of discomfort while delivering a sharp, satirical take on the horrors of parenthood. The film’s sick sense of humor blends with its unsettling premise, as it uses a seemingly mundane object—a coffee table—as the catalyst for an absurd but terrifying chain of events. Its pitch-black comedy amplifies the tension, making the film both deeply disturbing and strangely cathartic for those who understand the pressures of raising children. It’s a fearless examination of the darker side of family life, where humor and horror collide to expose the anxieties and struggles that often go unspoken. Mark: 8 out of 11


We All Went to the World’s Fair (2021)

We All Went to the World’s Fair (2021) falls short both as a horror film and as a rites of passage story. Its eerie, slow-burn approach creates an unsettling atmosphere, but the lack of a clear, escalating threat leaves it feeling aimless. Switching protagonists at the end does not work, and despite an excellent performance from Anna Cobb, the film spoils an intriguing premise. Mark: 5.5 out of 11


Where Evil Lurks (2023)

Where Evil Lurks (2023) skillfully employs well-known horror tropes—such as viral infection and monstrous transformations of humans—to deliver a fresh and intense experience. The film taps into the fear of contagion, using the idea of a mysterious, spreading evil that corrupts and distorts its victims. This viral-like menace is combined with disturbing body horror, as infected humans gradually turn into something grotesque and monstrous, making the familiar threat feel visceral and terrifying. The gradual, creeping transformation of people into monstrous figures is done with chilling precision, playing on the fear of losing control of one’s body and mind. By grounding these tropes in a strong narrative and unsettling atmosphere, the film elevates the horror elements, using them to amplify its emotional and psychological impact. Mark: 8.5 out of 11

NETFLIX REVIEWS: HORROR!

NETFLIX REVIEWS: HORROR!

As regular readers of my blog will know I am a massive fan of horror films. So much so I will often theme my monthly viewing around the genre, then consolidate the reviews in one post. Here are two of the most recent posts:



For the month of June and bleeding into July, I solely focused on horror films streaming on Netflix. So, here are short reviews of the many films I watched that are currently available on Netflix!

*** CONTAINS PLOT SPOILERS ***


A CLASSIC HORROR STORY (2021)

Italian shocker that echoes Midsommar (2019), Scream 3 (2000) and The Ritual (2017). The script is meta-clever and there’s some decent gore, but overall it lacks emotional empathy for the characters. More of a knowing film satire rather than being proper scary. Mark: 6.5 out of 11


BAGHEAD (2023)

Suffers in comparison to the far more energetic and thrilling Talk to Me (2022) – which is also on Netflix. Aside from the opening with the always brilliant Peter Mullan, who sets the scene, monster and horror rules, the film contains slight characterization and low stakes when the lead protagonists enter the shadowed fray. Mark: 5.5 out of 11


BLOODY NEW YEAR (1987)

Genuinely one of the worst horror films EVER made, that somehow still has some memorably crazy moments and monsters. Watch and cry with laughter about how bad this Brit-shocker is though! Mark: 2 out of 11


CAM (2018)

Madeline Brewer is fantastic as the narcissistic Cam-Girl who finds her identity is cloned, with the added stress of a killer being on her trail. Cleverly and wittily plotted, this brilliantly directed satire rises above its exploitative material to deliver a thematically rich horror film full of suspense and shocks. Mark: 8.5 out of 11


CREEP 2 (2017)

Mark Duplass gives another strikingly weird performance as the serial killer who loves the slow-burn taunting of his victims. Both this and Creep (2015) actually make the found footage filming trope work really well. Mark: 7.5 out of 11


EMELIE (2016)

What if your babysitter isn’t the person you think they are? An incredibly chilling character study designed to give every parent sleepless nights. With a committed performance from Sarah Bolger, this has so many twisted scenes involving the kids that disturbed me and feared for their safety. A horror film that really burrows under your skin throughout. Mark: 7.5 out of 11.


FANTASY ISLAND (2020)

Taking a 1970’s high-concept drama series and turning it into a horror film is not the worst idea, especially as the original series had its darker episodes often involving cautionary tales of morality. However, the script they delivered for this misfire feels as though many, many writers have tried desperately to resuscitate it from within the cold morgue draw. There’s some drive and energy from the cast and I actually enjoyed some of the set-pieces, but it feels ultimately like over-stuffed mush. Mark: 5 out of 11.


HAUNT (2019)

An incredibly generic set-up finds a group of teenagers drawn to a haunted house at Halloween, only for crazed killers to lock them in a slash them down. Benefits from some imaginative villains and kills, plus an empathetic lead characterization by Katie Stevens as the grieving Harper. Lastly, directors Scott Beck and Bryan Woods show excellent control over tone, style and suspense. Mark: 7.5 out of 11.


RED STATE (2011)

Kevin Smith goes ‘Grindhouse’ with this gnarly horror film where a group of horny teenagers are lured into a deadly trap that threatens their existence. Starts strongly exploring themes of religious mania and family values culminating in an incredible monologue delivered by Michael Park’s charismatic church leader. Latterly descends into a chaotic siege thriller shoot-em-up with crazy cultists versus the American authorities led by the always excellent, John Goodman. Smith’s trademark chitty-chatter dialogue is good, but kind of gets in the way (monologue aside) of the drama and humanity-as-horror of the piece. Mark: 7 out of 11.


THERE’S SOMEONE IN YOUR HOUSE (2021)

Extremely well written, directed and acted film which gets stuck between the rites-of-passage and slasher tropes, serving neither of these genres satisfactorily. There’s some alright kills, but overall feels like an inferior photocopy of Scream (2000) with little of the wit or meta-brilliance. Mark: 6 out of 11.


TIN & TINA (2023)

Featuring motifs relating to religion, fascism and family values, this interesting chiller ticks all the themes present in many Spanish horror films. As Lola (Milena Smit) and Adolfo (Jaime Lorente) suffer the tragedy of a lost child, they try to redeem their grief with the adoption of two blonde, shock-haired orphans raised by nuns. Driven by their naivete and religious fervour, Tin and Tina end up committing many questionable acts which threaten to send Lola over the edge. Beautifully filmed and scored, the director also builds an impressive sense of dread throughout, yet the film is ultimately denied a higher mark by the glacial pace and disappointing ending. Nonetheless, it is thought provoking with both the creepy kids and Christianity contributing to nail-biting scenes of high anxiety. Mark: 7 out of 11

NETFLIX FILM REVIEW: DA 5 BLOODS (2020)

NETFLIX FILM REVIEW: DA 5 BLOODS (2020)

Directed by: Spike Lee

Produced by: Jon Kilik, Spike Lee, Beatriz Levin, Lloyd Levin

Written by: Danny Bilson, Paul De Meo, Spike Lee, Kevin Willmott

Cast: Delroy Lindo, Jonathan Majors, Clarke Peters, Norm Lewis, Isiah Whitlock Jr., Mélanie Thierry, Paul Walter Hauser, Jasper Pääkkönen, Jean Reno, Chadwick Boseman etc.

Music by: Terence Blanchard, Marvin Gaye

Cinematography: Newton Thomas Sigel

Distribution: Netflix

***MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS***



Shelton Jackson “Spike” Lee has been a prolific actor, director, producer and polemicist for some time now. An ultra-talented and outspoken cinematic artist, he has directed thirty fiction and documentary films since his debut feature film She’s Gotta Have It (1986). Plus, all manner of promos, commercials, music videos, short films and television series. An energetic firebrand of a director he has made films in many genres and is a risk-taker in subject, theme and style. Whether you agree with what he has to say he is a filmmaker who is always creating situations and characters who must be heard.  

His latest film, Da 5 Bloods (2020), is a timely Netflix film release which encapsulates crime, heist, political, war, drama, Blaxploitation, comedy, documentary, love and experimental film genres. Lee has never been afraid of taking risks and sometimes his films have not worked because of it. However, with BlacKKKlansman (2018) he succeeded in making one of the best films of 2018 and should have won Best Film Oscar in my view. Da 5 Bloods (2020) grabs the power baton of Lee’s prior film and runs with it, delivering an entertaining, funny, thought-provoking, stylish and brilliant genre-blending story full of sustainable socio-political arguments in the era of the Black Lives Matter movement.



The narrative begins by establishing four aging Vietnam veterans, portrayed by the magnetic ensemble of Delroy Lindo, Clarke Peters, Norm Lewis and Isiah Whitlock Jr. They meet in Ho Chi Minh City in order to venture into the jungle and locate the remains of their squad leader. During some very stylised, richly colour-saturated and impactful flashbacks, it is revealed their friend, “Stormin Norman” (the charismatic, Chadwick Boseman), was killed in combat. Furthermore, and this is the money reason they are back in ‘Nam – there is army gold in those hills. Thus, the comrades set out to locate their friend’s body, and the gold, in order to find reparation and hopefully some form of redemption.

The film begins warmly as we enjoy the company of these great actors portraying reunited friends on an old boys outing. However, the film, as it introduces further subplots involving Jean Reno’s suspicious businessmen, Desroche and Delroy Lindo’s Paul crumbling mental state, moves into far darker territory the further the men get into the jungle. Lindo himself gives arguably the best performance of his career as a soldier grieving for his lost friend and desperate to get compensation for the unjust loss of so many lives in Vietnam. His character’s downward mental trajectory is one of the most powerful elements of Da 5 Bloods (2020). No doubt Lindo will be nominated come awards time and so he should be.

The cinematic excellence on show too from Spike Lee and his production crew is to be applauded too. Lee’s box of magic tricks includes: jump cuts, aspect ratio switches, colour saturation, Shakespearean soliloquies, documentary footage, flashbacks, conveyor-belt camera tracks, stills photography, slow-motion, direct address and many other devices. The exceptional cinematography is drenched in an opulent score from Terence Blanchard and the incredible voice of Marvin Gaye. I guess my main reservations about the film would be the elongated running time, with some scenes indulgently over-running. Moreover, there were also a couple of convenient plot coincidences which could have been ironed out. Nonetheless, with Da 5 Bloods (2020), Spike Lee has delivered another bravura mix of genre and socio-political filmmaking which, like classics such as The Treasure of Sierra Madre (1948) and Apocalypse Now (1979), stare into the dark heart of humanity and find greed, war and death there. Unlike those two films though, Da 5 Bloods (2020), also contains hope, light in the tunnel, and the idea that togetherness brings strength in the face of adversity.

Mark: 9 out 11