Tag Archives: Movies

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

Cinema Review: Dangerous Animals (2025)

Directed by Sean Byrne

Written by Nick Lepard

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

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

Cinematography by Shelley Farthing-Dawe

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



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

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

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

Mark: 8 out of 11


Sky Cinema Review: A Different Man (2024) – a multi-faceted character study on inner and outer identity.

SKY CINEMA REVIEW: A DIFFERENT MAN (2024)

Directed by Aaron Schimberg

Written by Aaron Schimberg

Produced by Christine Vachon, Vanessa McDonnell & Gabriel Mayers

Main cast: Sebastian Stan, Renate Reinsve, and Adam Pearson.

Cinematography by Wyatt Garfield

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



Few films in recent years feel as startlingly original as A Different Man (2024) —and yet, paradoxically, it’s a film made almost entirely from borrowed pieces. Aaron Schimberg’s latest begins as a bracing character study, anchored by Sebastian Stan’s Edward Lemuel, a socially awkward, struggling actor whose neurofibromatosis manifests in a disfiguring facial condition. These early passages are its strongest: Edward’s halting existence, his quiet desperation, disintegrating ceiling and the unnerving, tactile authenticity of his world call to mind the seedy New York grit of Abel Ferrara and Frank Henenlotter.

But just as the viewer settles into this world, the film veers via a sci-fi twist. An experimental procedure transforms Edward’s face, and with it, the narrative mutates. Suddenly we’re in a Woody Allenesque romantic entanglement—wry, neurotic, and tinged with irony—as Edward’s new identity draws him into a triangular relationship with Renate Reinsve as Ingrid and Adam Pearson as Oswald. Oswald also has neurofibromatosis, but has a confidence and popularity that Edward envies. As Oswald usurps Edward’s place in the off-Broadway play Ingrid is directing the film’s tone teeters between comedy and cruelty.



From there, A Different Man (2024) shape-shifts yet again. The third act discards linearity for a fragmented, Charlie Kaufmanesque unraveling: episodic bursts, narrative cul-de-sacs, and surreal detours that question not just Edward’s identity but the film’s own. It’s at once exhilarating and frustrating. Schimberg seems intent on deconstructing his own story midstream, leaving us with shards of multiple films rather than one fully integrated work. The ending works artistically but could, for me, have been way more dramatic with Edward confronting Oswald for, in his neurotic mind, stealing his life and identity.

That tension—between raw originality and homage—defines A Different Man (2024). It begins with remarkable clarity and empathy, only to succumb to a kind of cinematic identity crisis. Nonetheless, the film is very funny and moving and the themes are also very thought-provoking. Further, the script, direction and performances, especially from Sebastian Stan and Adam Pearson, make the film consistently compelling. Indeed, even in its unevenness, it remains one of the most daring and distinctive works of the past few years: a film that refuses to be just one thing, even if that refusal undermines certain dramatic potential.

Mark: 8.5 out of 11


Cinema Review: Weapons (2025) – a finely constructed horror mystery!

Cinema Review: Weapons (2025)

Directed by Zach Cregger

Written by Zach Cregger

Produced by Zach Cregger, Roy Lee, Miri Yoon, J. D. Lifshitz, Raphael Margules, etc.

Main Cast: Josh Brolin, Julia Garner, Alden Ehrenreich, Austin Abrams, Cary Christopher, Benedict Wong and Amy Madigan.

Cinematography by Larkin Seiple

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



Zach Cregger’s Barbarian (2022) was an intriguing feature debut that captivated viewers with a suspenseful, tension-filled first half, expertly building a sense of dread and mystery. The film begins with a seemingly simple premise — a woman arrives at an Airbnb, only to find it double-booked — but what starts as a quiet psychological thriller quickly takes an unexpected turn. As the plot unfolds, the sense of unease grows, drawing viewers deeper into its web of secrets.

However, the second half of the film ventures into increasingly bizarre and chaotic territory, unravelling into a frankly insane series of twists and reveals. While it might initially seem like a more grounded thriller, Barbarian (2022) pushed the boundaries of genre, diving head first into over-the-top absurdity. It’s a thrilling ride that keeps you on the edge of your seat, even if the madness of the final act leaves you both bewildered and entertained. In some ways Cregger’s follow-up Weapons (2025) shares such structural and thematic similarities with his first film, however, it is a much more controlled and impactful mystery. Until the end.

Weapons (2025) immediately hooks viewers with the mystery of the seventeen children going missing in the town of Maybrook. This instantly draws us into a world brimming with tension and unanswered questions. The authorities investigation into their disappearance soon stalls and how the townsfolk react becomes the central thread, gradually unraveling a complex, carefully structured narrative. Thus, Cregger’s postmodern fairy-tale unfolds through the eyes of various interconnected characters, each of whom brings a unique perspective and layer to the plot.



Josh Brolin plays Archer Graff, a father grieving the disappearance of his son Matthew, one of the missing children. His portrayal is poignant, balancing grief with a desperate need for answers, and his journey pushes the narrative forward with a personal stake in the outcome. Next, Julia Garner’s Justine Gandy, a dedicated teacher, adds another emotional dimension. She’s devastated when she discovers that nearly all of her students have vanished without a trace, with the exception of Alex Lilly (played by Cary Christopher), the only child from her class who remains. Justine’s struggle to find out what happened to her students, coupled with her own crumbling personal life and alcoholism, make her a compelling protagonist.

Other characters include Alden Ehrenreich’s Paul Morgan, a troubled police officer with his own set of demons, is a reluctant ally to Justine. Their past relationship adds a layer of tension as they navigate the growing sense of danger and urgency surrounding the missing children. Then, Austin Abrams brings a sense of raw, chaotic energy to James, a homeless drug addict and burglar whose past intersects with the mystery in unexpected ways. Lastly, Benedict Wong plays Marcus Miller, the school principal, who serves as an important figure in Justine’s quest for answers. Though sympathetic to her, Marcus is often caught between his professional responsibilities and the mounting pressure of the situation.

Weapons (2025) masterfully weaves its non-linear narrative with a striking array of tense, spine-chilling moments that keep audiences on edge throughout. As the plot unfolds through intersecting character arcs, the film expertly intersperses surprising scares, thrilling foot chases, and creepy locations, all while pulling you deeper into its twisting mystery. The jumps in time and the interconnected storylines create a sense of disorientation that builds forces viewers to constantly question what’s real and what isn’t.

Each character’s journey is filled with psychological unease and physical danger, leading to some genuinely heart-pounding sequences. Meanwhile, the eerie, claustrophobic settings—ranging from decaying homes to ominous, unfamiliar spaces—serve as perfect backdrops for the increasing horror. These moments contribute to the growing sense that something monstrous is lurking just beneath the surface, waiting to break free. Further, the film also plays with ambiguity, surreal dreams and unreliable narrators, allowing characters’ perspectives to fracture.

However, similar to Barbarian (2022), Weapons (2025) takes a tonal right-turn in the final moments, descending into all-out mania and Savini-style gore. The reveal of the matriarchal menace, who emerges as a central ‘Pied Piper’ type villain, feels somewhat unearned, undermining the narrative choices before. The ending also didn’t quite fully connect with the deeper themes or subtext of the film that were promised in the set-up. Yet, despite such inconsistencies Cregger’s Weapons (2025) has been marketed incredibly well and as has deservedly done great box-office business. Lastly, Creggers is a very talented filmmaker and his second film remains a smartly written and gripping ride filled with tension, scares, and that insane final act.

Mark 8.5 out of 11


Cinema Review: Bring Her Back (2025) – a powerfully disturbing study of grief, obsession and matriarchal mania!

Cinema Review: Bring Her Back (2025)

Directed by Danny and Michael Philippou

Written by Danny Philippou and Bill Hinzman

Produced by Samantha Jennings, Kristina Ceyton

Cast: Billy Barratt, Sora Wong, Jonah Wren Phillips, Sally Hawkins, Sally-Anne Upton, etc.

Cinematography by Aaron McLisky

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



It’s become something of a cliché to lament the state of theatrical cinema: superhero fatigue, endless sequels, spin-offs and reboots, streaming overflow. Original stories—particularly in multiplexes—feel increasingly rare. Yet one genre has bucked the trend and, against all industry logic, placed original visions front and centre: horror. In an era of IP dominance, horror’s persistence as the great innovator is growing. It thrives on shadows, but in today’s cinema landscape, it’s also the brightest light.

Across the last few years, titles like Barbarian (2022), Pearl (2022), Skinamarink (2022), Nope (2022), Talk to Me (2023), Infinity Pool (2023), When Evil Lurks (2023), Late Night With the Devil (2023), Totally Killer (2023), Heretic (2024), Longlegs (2024), Sinners (2025), and the soon-to-be-reviewed, Weapons (2025) have proved again and again that audiences crave fresh nightmares. Even 28 Years Later (2025), though technically part of an ongoing series, represents a rare franchise event grounded less in brand synergy than in directorial reinvention and raw cultural appetite.

Unlike superhero spectacles or sci-fi epics, horror thrives on modest budgets and audacious ideas. A film like Skinamarink (2022), shot for a reported $15,000, can turn experimental textures into a viral theatrical moment. Personally, I found this film difficult to digest, however, the more commercial, Talk to Me (2023), made for $4.5 million, earned nearly twenty times that worldwide. These aren’t just hits; they’re validations of originality as a business model.



Horror is also a proving ground where young or unexpected filmmakers leap into the cultural spotlight. Zach Cregger (Barbarian (2022) twisted narrative structure into something memorable. The Philippou brothers Talk to Me (2023) translated YouTube viral adrenaline into terrifying cinematic language. But, what of their latest film, Bring Her Back (2025)? Well, for me they have surpassed their debut feature not only in genuinely sickening moments of dread, but also in terms of powerfully emotional horror scenes.

The narrative of Bring Her Back (2025) begins as it means to go on with a rapidly series of unsettling scenes. After discovering their father dead in the shower, 17-year-old Andy (Billy Barratt) and his partially sighted step-sister Piper (Sora Wong) are placed in the care of Laura (Sally Hawkins). Laura is an eccentric former counselor living on the outskirts of town and suffered the loss of her teenage daughter to drowning. In her home, the siblings encounter Oliver (Jonah Wren Phillips), a mute foster boy who seems terrified of the house’s locked outhouse. Andy eventually realizes Laura’s obsessive behaviour is far more threatening than he could imagine and they are all in danger.

Like Toni Collette in Hereditary (2018) and Lupita Nyong’o in Us (2019), Sally Hawkins delivers a powerfully intense performance that pushes horror into the realm of high drama. She carries the film with raw, nerve-shredding vulnerability, shifting from fragile grief to volcanic fury with startling precision. Every gesture—whether a whispered plea or a full-bodied breakdown—feels lived-in and emotionally scalding, grounding the supernatural terror in something painfully human. Also, Billy Barratt and newcomer Sora Wong offer excellent support as the in-peril ‘Hansel and Gretel’ siblings. Barratt is especially good carrying the audience’s fearful perspective.



The Philippou brothers draw on a potent brew of horror traditions—satanic ritual, grief, abduction, parental abandonment, and matriarchal hysteria—to craft Bring Her Back, a haunting and gut-wrenching descent into obsession. The film thrives on its willingness to plunge into emotional extremity, channeling raw pain into sequences of near-operatic dread. Several knife-in-the-teeth jolts of terror punctuate the story, as everyday necessities such as water, food and parental love are twisted into deathly hazards.

While the script occasionally wavers and certain narrative and backstory elements required sharpening, the thematic and emotional core remains undeniable. At its best, Bring Her Back (2025) isn’t just another exercise in occult horror—it’s a powerful study of grieving obsession, of the lengths people will go to fill a void that cannot be healed. The result is a film that lingers, not only for its shocks but for the raw ache that underpins them.

Mark: 9 out of 11


Cinema Review: Superman (2025) – a sketch-show rollercoaster ride that I could not wait to end!

CINEMA REVIEW: SUPERMAN (2025)

Directed by James Gunn

Written by James Gunn (Based on Characters from DC)

Produced by: Peter Safran, James Gunn

Main Cast: David Corenswet, Rachel Brosnahan, Nicholas Hoult, Edi Gathegi, Anthony Carrigan, Nathan Fillion, Isabela Merced, etc.

Cinematography by: Henry Braham

Edited by: William Hoy & Craig Alper

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



James Gunn’s wacky adaptation Superman (2025) unfolds less like a coherent narrative and more like a frenetic sketch show, veering from one oddball choice to the next with little tonal or emotional consistency. It’s a film that seems more interested in quirky vignettes and fan-service eccentricities than in telling a grounded or resonant Superman story. The result is a fragmented, overcooked spectacle—an atonal mess that struggles to resemble proper cinema in any meaningful sense.

This is especially disappointing considering Gunn’s earlier, more focused efforts. Lower budgeted Slither (2006), Super (2010), and even the first Guardians of the Galaxy (2014) were all infused with his irreverent flair, but they also benefited from creative restraint and clear narrative through-lines. Those films felt punchy, heartfelt, and cohesive. Here, Gunn appears unchecked, indulging in whimsy for whimsy’s sake, and the film buckles under the weight of Gunn seemingly being off given too much creative control.



Despite commendable performances from Nicholas Hoult as Lex Luthor and David Corenswet as Superman—both actors working hard to inject gravitas and humanity into the chaos—they’re ultimately overshadowed by the film’s tonal whiplash and scattershot storytelling. Hoult, who is one of the best actors around at the moment, is thrown under the bus by Gunn’s spectacularly bad directorial choices. And then there’s Krypto, Superman’s dog. In what universe does that choice feel appropriate for a reboot seeking to reestablish the character’s mythos? It lands like a joke without a punchline, symbolic of the film’s broader issues. Moreover, Gunn even tries to make political points reflecting current events, but it is a truly embarrassing attempt which fails to elicit any emotional clout.

Worse still, the lack of a meaningful origin story robs the character of emotional grounding. Instead of reintroducing Superman in a way that earns his place in this new cinematic universe, the film takes shortcuts, assuming audience investment without doing the work. In a media landscape already drowning in capes and cliches, Superman had the opportunity to reignite interest in the genre. Instead, it accelerates superhero fatigue, offering more noise when clarity and restraint were desperately needed.

In short, Superman (2025) is an overblown trifle—a hot mess that left me cold—a film that wants to be everything, ends up being very little, and reminds us that bigger is not always better. Yes. I am a bitter and grumpy old man by the way and I realise this film is probably aimed at people much younger and stupider than me, but I paid my entrance fee and this is how I felt.

Mark: 5 out of 11

Cult Film Review: Possession (1981)

CULT FILM REVIEW: POSSESSION (1981)

Directed by Andrzej Żuławski

Screenplay by Andrzej Żuławski

Adaptation and dialogue by Andrzej Żuławski & Frederic Tute

Produced by Marie-Laure Reyre

Main cast: Isabelle Adjani, Sam Neill & Heinz Bennent

Cinematography by Bruno Nuytten

Edited by Marie-Sophi Dubus & Suzanne Lang-Willar

Music by Andrzej Korzyński

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



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

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



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

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

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


Cinema review: 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)











Netflix Film Review: The Piano Lesson (2024) – ghosts of the past and present haunt the screen with resounding power!

Netflix Film Review: The Piano Lesson (2024)

Directed by Malcolm Washington

Screenplay by Virgil Williams & Malcolm Washington

Based on The Piano Lesson by August Wilson

Produced by Denzel Washington & Todd Black

Main cast: John David Washington, Danielle Deadwyler, Samuel L. Jackson, Ray Fisher, Michael Potts, Erykah Badu, Skylar Aleece Smith,
Corey Hawkins, and more.


Cinematography by Mike Gioulakis



Malcolm Washington’s directorial debut, The Piano Lesson (2024), is a poignant and evocative adaptation of August Wilson’s 1987 play, set in 1936 Pittsburgh. Through a compelling narrative and an exceptional cast, Washington explores themes of heritage, familial conflict, and the enduring impact of racial oppression.

Washington, alongside co-writer Virgil Williams, expands the original stage play’s confines by incorporating flashbacks and supernatural elements, enriching the narrative’s depth and scope. The film centers on the Charles family, particularly siblings Boy Willie (John David Washington) and Berniece (Danielle Deadwyler), who are at odds over the fate of a family heirloom piano. Boy Willie wishes to sell the piano to purchase land that once belonged to their ancestors, while Berniece views the instrument as a sacred connection to their past.

The piano, intricately carved with images of the Charles family’s ancestors, serves as a powerful symbol of their history and resilience. For Boy Willie, it represents a means to break free from the shackles of the past and build a future of self-sufficiency. Conversely, Berniece sees it as a testament to their survival and a link to the sacrifices made by their forebears. This dichotomy underscores the central conflict: the tension between honoring tradition and pursuing progress



The film delves into the complexities of familial bonds and the differing perceptions of heritage. Boy Willie’s desire to sell the piano reflects a yearning to move beyond the constraints of history, while Berniece’s attachment signifies a commitment to preserving their lineage. At the same time she mourns the loss of her husband and combats romantic offers from local suitors. Her struggles truly power the piece and the familial clashes further embody the broader struggle within African American communities: reconciling the weight of history with the aspirations for advancement. The supernatural elements, particularly the haunting presence of the plantation owner, Sutter’s ghost, are delivered effectively. They also amplify the narrative’s exploration of unresolved trauma and the need for reconciliation.

The ensemble cast delivers standout performances, with John David Washington portraying Boy Willie’s fiery ambition and Danielle Deadwyler capturing Berniece’s steadfast resolve. How Deadwyler did not even get an Oscar nomination for Best Actress in a Supporting Role is beyond me. Moreover, Samuel L. Jackson offers a subtle, unselfish and grounded portrayal of Doaker, the family patriarch. Washington’s direction ensures a respectful adaptation, balancing the play’s rich and passionate dialogue with cinematic elements that enhance its emotional resonance.

Overall, Malcolm Washington’s The Piano Lesson is a resounding adaptation that honours August Wilson’s legacy while providing a fresh perspective on timeless themes. Through its rich symbolism, compelling performances, and thoughtful direction, the film invites audiences to reflect on the complexities of heritage, the burdens of history, and the paths toward healing and progress.

Mark: 8.5 out of 11


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

CINEMA REVIEW: MISSION IMPOSSIBLE – THE FINAL RECKONING

Directed by Christopher McQuarrie

Written by Christopher McQuarrie & Erik Jendresen

Based on Mission: Impossible by Bruce Geller

Produced by Tom Cruise & Christopher McQuarrie

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

*** MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS ***



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

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

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

Mark: 8 out of 11



MISSION IMPOSSIBLE – MY FAVOURITES 1 to 8

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