Change Your Image
steveinadelaide
Ratings
Most Recently Rated
Reviews
Sugar (2024)
An intriguing neo-noir thriller
Private eye John Sugar tackles the Hollywood underbelly in this intriguing neo-noir thriller. While the plot, about a missing heiress, might sound familiar, Sugar keeps things fresh with its sharp writing, stunning visuals that switch between classic black and white and modern LA glitz, and a phenomenal performance by Colin Farrell as the world-weary detective. Some supporting characters feel a tad one-note, and the pacing can be a slow burn at times. But all in all, Sugar is a stylish and suspenseful ride, a perfect pick for fans of classic detective stories who don't mind a sprinkle of something new. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Bad Boys: Ride or Die (2024)
Miami mayhem makes a messy return
Mike Lowrey and Marcus Burnett are back, and let's just say, age ain't nothin' but a number-for their ever-present immaturity, that is. Bad Boys: Ride or Die throws our favourite foul-mouthed cops back into the fire as they race to clear their late captain's name from a corruption scandal. Prepare for explosions, buddy-cop banter, and an abundance of slow-motion that would cause Michael Bay to blush.
Look, there's no denying this movie is pure popcorn fun. Will Smith and Martin Lawrence slip back into their iconic roles with ease-their comedic chemistry still crackles. There's a car chase through a glitzy Miami night market that's as thrillingly absurd as anything in the Fast & Furious franchise. The filmmakers clearly understand the heart of the series: mindless action punctuated by wisecracks.
But therein lies the rub. While the action sequences are undeniably impressive-think bullet ballets and physics-defying stunts-they start to feel repetitive after a while. The jokes, too, often fall flat. Remember that hilarious bit from the trailer about Marcus's medical woes? Yeah, that's about the peak of the comedy here. It feels like the writers strained a little too hard to recapture the magic of the previous films, and some gags land with all the grace of a hippo on roller skates.
The plot itself is serviceable but unsurprising. There's a new villain, a fresh mystery, but it never feels particularly inspired. We've seen this cops-on-the-run trope countless times before, and Ride or Die doesn't offer anything particularly new or thought-provoking.
The movie's saving grace is, once again, the central duo. Smith maintains his charisma as the ever-cool Mike Lowrey, while Lawrence brings the manic energy, particularly when his character goes undercover (think a high-pitched falsetto that would make a chipmunk blush). New additions to the cast, like Vanessa Hudgens as Mike's fiery captain's daughter, add some spark, but their roles feel underdeveloped.
Technically, the film is solid. The direction is slick, the editing keeps the pace brisk, and the Miami setting is as vibrant and sun-drenched as ever. The soundtrack, however, is a forgettable mix of generic hip-hop and forgettable score.
So, is Bad Boys: Ride or Die a worthy successor to the franchise? Hmm, not quite. It's a fun, albeit forgettable, summer action flick. Die-hard fans will likely find enough to enjoy, but for newcomers, there are better entries in the buddy-cop genre (think 21 Jump Street or Rush Hour). This one might make you chuckle, or wince, but ultimately, it won't leave a lasting impression. It's a perfectly serviceable three-star ride-enjoyable in the moment, but quickly fading from memory once it's over.
The Watchers (2024)
A promising debut
Writer-director Ishana Night Shyamalan, daughter of the iconic M. Night Shyamalan, steps into the spotlight with her debut film, The Watchers, a suspenseful horror film that's equal parts intriguing and frustrating. Mina (played with quiet intensity by Dakota Fanning), a young artist on a solo trip in Ireland, finds herself stranded in a remote forest with no way out. Seeking refuge, she stumbles upon a concrete bunker where three strangers are already holed up. But safety is a fleeting concept here. As night falls, a mysterious force emerges, forcing the group to huddle behind a large, one-way window-the only barrier between them and the unseen watchers.
The film's greatest strength lies in its initial setup. The dense, uncharted forest evokes a sense of primal unease, and the concept of unseen entities lurking just beyond the window is undeniably creepy. Shyamalan keeps the creatures shrouded in shadow for a good portion of the film, relying on suggestion and flickering lights to build tension. This approach is reminiscent of classic monster movies like Alien or Jaws, where the unseen threat is often more terrifying than a fully revealed one.
However, The Watchers struggles to maintain its momentum. The plot unfolds slowly, with long stretches of dialogue that do little to develop the characters beyond their basic survival instincts. While Fanning delivers a compelling performance, the supporting cast feels underdeveloped. The film throws in a childhood trauma element for Mina, but it feels tacked on rather than organically woven into the narrative.
Visually, the film is a mixed bag. The use of colour is particularly interesting. The stark contrast between the warm, artificial light inside the bunker and the cold, oppressive darkness of the forest effectively creates a sense of isolation and vulnerability. However, some of the CGI effects used for the creatures later in the film feel a bit clunky and detract from the overall atmosphere. The editing is efficient, with jump scares used sparingly and to good effect.
The film's ending, a signature Shyamalan twist, is sure to spark discussion. But unlike some of her father's more successful works, it doesn't quite land here. It feels more like a desperate attempt to inject a jolt of surprise rather than a satisfying conclusion to the established themes.
The Watchers is a promising debut from Ishana Night Shyamalan. It showcases a clear understanding of suspense-building and a willingness to experiment with genre tropes. But, the underdeveloped characters, a slow pace, and a somewhat underwhelming twist hold the film back from reaching its full potential. If you're a fan of slow-burn horror with a dose of mystery, this might be worth a watch. But if you're expecting a truly terrifying experience, you might want to look elsewhere. It's an intriguing film with a great central premise, but its execution is uneven.
Jiu Long cheng zhai · Wei cheng (2024)
A fun, albeit familiar, ride through a fascinating world
Soi Cheang's Twilight of the Warriors: Walled In throws us into the heart of the Kowloon Walled City, a labyrinthine sprawl of crime and community in pre-handover Hong Kong. Lost and adrift, Chan Lok-kwun (played by a capable newcomer) stumbles into this hidden world, forced to navigate its treacherous alleys and forge unlikely bonds with its denizens. While the fight choreography is undeniably impressive-think balletic brawls with a dash of Jackie Chan-esque acrobatics-the narrative itself struggles to find its footing.
The film's greatest strength lies in its historical context. Cheang masterfully recreates the claustrophobic chaos of the Walled City, a place where desperation and resilience go hand-in-hand. The production design is phenomenal, capturing the grimy underbelly of the city in meticulous detail. We see makeshift markets, overflowing with life, nestled beneath the looming concrete jungle. This immersive world-building is further enhanced by the film's colour palette. The muted greens and browns that predominate, punctuated by bursts of neon signage, perfectly reflect the harsh realities of life inside the walls.
However, the plot itself feels a tad derivative. The wide-eyed outsider finding redemption within a community on the fringes is a well-trodden path, and Twilight doesn't offer much that's fresh. Philip Ng's portrayal of the main antagonist, who consumes scenery with gusto, comes off more like a caricature than a fully developed foe. The film also suffers from some pacing issues, particularly in the second half. The frenetic energy that propels the first act gives way to a drawn-out final showdown, complete with an overuse of CGI that detracts from the otherwise impressive fight choreography.
That being said, the performances elevate the material somewhat. Louis Koo exudes quiet charisma as a wise mentor figure, and Raymond Lam brings a relatable vulnerability to his role. The camaraderie between the young leads is believable, even if their characters lack depth. The editing, while occasionally frenetic, keeps the action sequences engaging, even if it sacrifices some clarity in the fight choreography.
Twilight of the Warriors: Walled In is a visually stunning and well-acted homage to a bygone era. It falters with a predictable narrative and some reliance on special effects, but the film's heart lies in its exploration of a unique historical setting. Fans of Hong Kong action cinema and anyone interested in the Kowloon Walled City's legacy will find much to appreciate here. However, those seeking a groundbreaking story or innovative action sequences might leave feeling a little shortchanged. Overall, Twilight of the Warriors: Walled In is a fun, albeit familiar, ride through a fascinating world, but it doesn't quite reach the heights of the genre's best.
La bête (2023)
An excellent movie for our times
The Beast is set in a future where artificial intelligence reigns supreme and emotions are considered a liability. But beneath the sleek veneer of this dystopian world lies a hauntingly beautiful exploration of love, memory, and what it means to be human. The film weaves a complex narrative that jumps between time periods. We meet Gabrielle (Léa Seydoux, always captivating), a woman in 2044 grappling with a mysterious illness. To find a cure, she undergoes a radical treatment that forces her to confront past lives-a passionate romance in 1910 Paris and a disturbing encounter in 2014 California.
The historical and cultural juxtapositions are fascinating. Bonello uses them to subtly critique the present, particularly the pervasive sense of unease and the erosion of privacy in our hyper-connected world. One minute we're waltzing through a Belle Époque dreamscape, and the next we're plunged into the grimy underbelly of the internet, bombarded with unsettling imagery. It's a sensory overload that perfectly captures the fragmented nature of our times.
The film's greatest strength lies in its central performances. Seydoux is phenomenal. She seamlessly embodies Gabrielle's different iterations, from the wide-eyed innocence of her 1910 persona to the jaded cynicism of her present self. George Mackay, as her 1910 lover, delivers a performance that's both tender and nuanced. Their on-screen chemistry is palpable, making their star-crossed romance all the more heartbreaking.
While the plot itself is intriguing, it can be a tad convoluted at times. The multiple timelines occasionally feel disjointed, demanding a patient viewer willing to piece together the puzzle. But the film rewards perseverance. The fragmented narrative reflects Gabrielle's own fractured state of mind, creating a sense of unease that perfectly complements the film's themes.
Thematically, The Beast is a rich tapestry. It delves into the power of love and loss, the allure of the past, and the ever-present threat of a future devoid of human emotion. Bonello doesn't shy away from big questions, leaving us to grapple with the implications of a world sterilised of strong feelings. The film's technical aspects are equally impressive. The cinematography is evocative, with dreamlike sequences contrasting sharply with the sterile, tech-heavy future. The editing, though occasionally abrupt, mirrors the film's non-linear narrative, adding to its disorienting effect.
The Beast isn't an easy watch. It's a slow burn. And it certainly won't be for everyone. When I went to see it, a couple of people walked out. And if some of the comments I heard after the movie had finished are to go by, some people just didn't get what the movie was about.
But for those seeking a thought-provoking and visually stunning film experience, it's a must-see. It left me unsettled, yet strangely hopeful, reminding me of the enduring power of human connection in a world increasingly obsessed with control. If you're looking for a popcorn flick with a clear-cut ending, look elsewhere. But if you're open to a challenging and rewarding cinematic journey-one that you will need to work hard at-The Beast will satisfy you, and you'll be looking for someone to discuss it with as soon as you can. An excellent movie for our times.
Radical (2023)
Heartwarming and thought-provoking
Radical, a thought-provoking drama based on a true story, tackles the daunting task of education in a Mexican border town beset by poverty, corruption, and gang violence. Eugenio Derbez sheds his usual comedic persona to play Sergio Juarez, a passionate new teacher assigned to a struggling elementary school. The jaded students, used to rote memorisation and a broken system, are a far cry from the enthusiastic learners Sergio dreams of. Determined to make a difference, he throws out the textbook and embarks on a radical experiment, fostering curiosity and critical thinking through unconventional methods-at least for these students.
The film shines when it delves into the human stories. We see the spark of potential ignite in the eyes of Sergio's students. The camaraderie between Sergio and the school's disillusioned principal, Chucho (Daniel Haddad), is another highlight. Their shared love for education, despite their contrasting approaches, is beautifully portrayed. However, the film occasionally falls into sentimentality, skirting over the complexities of systemic issues. The corrupt officials and gang violence, while providing context, feel like missed opportunities for deeper exploration.
Derbez delivers a heartfelt performance, his charisma captivating the audience as Sergio relentlessly pushes his students. The child actors, all seemingly newcomers, are equally impressive, portraying the vulnerability and resilience of children grappling with a harsh reality. The film's heart lies in these classroom moments, where Sergio's unorthodox methods lead to heartwarming breakthroughs.
Director Christopher Zalla crafts a visually realistic portrayal of the impoverished town. The muted colour palette underscores the daily struggles, while bursts of life emerge during Sergio's unconventional lessons. The camerawork is unobtrusive, placing the focus squarely on the characters and their interactions. While the editing is mostly seamless, there are occasional pacing issues, particularly in the first half, where the film establishes the setting and characters.
I do not think Radical is perfect. The feel-good moments, while genuine, can feel a tad unearned at times. The film would have benefited from a deeper dive into the challenges Sergio faces from the sceptical community and the education board.
However, at its core, Radical is a powerful testament to the transformative power of a dedicated teacher. The film's message that every child, no matter their family's financial situation, has incredible potential will linger with you long after you finish watching it. While it doesn't quite reach the heights of a truly great film, Radical is ultimately a rewarding watch, particularly for those who believe in the power of education to change lives. So, if you're looking for a film that's both heartwarming and thought-provoking, Radical is definitely worth a watch. Just be prepared for a ride that's more inspiring than it is nuanced.
The Way, My Way (2024)
A pleasant meander through the Spanish countryside
The Way, My Way sets out to capture the transformative power of the Camino de Santiago, the famed pilgrimage route across northern Spain. We follow a disgruntled man named Bill, who laces up his boots and embarks on the 800-kilometre journey, seeking some nebulous sense of purpose. Along the way, he encounters a colourful cast of characters, all with their own reasons for hitting the dusty trail.
The film's heart lies in its exploration of self-discovery. Bill starts off as a real grouch, constantly griping about blisters and questioning everyone's motives. But there's a vulnerability beneath his gruff exterior, which the film slowly reveals. However, the growth we witness feels uneven. Bill's epiphany at the end, while heartwarming, lands a little flat. It would've benefited from a stronger build-up and a deeper dive into his internal struggles.
The performances are a mixed bag. The supporting cast, a blend of actors and real-life pilgrims, shines. They bring a genuine warmth and camaraderie to the film, especially in scenes where weary travellers bond over shared meals and aching legs. However, the lead actor portraying Bill struggles to fully inhabit the character. There are moments where his frustration and self-doubt resonate, but he doesn't quite capture Bill's full arc of transformation.
Visually, The Way, My Way is a pleasant travelogue. Lush green hillsides and quaint Spanish villages provide a picturesque backdrop for the journey. The cinematography does a good job of capturing the vastness of the landscape, making you feel the enormity of the undertaking. The use of natural light is particularly effective, bathing the film in a warm, almost spiritual glow.
The score is a tasteful blend that underscores the film's themes of introspection and renewal without being overly sentimental. The editing is efficient, keeping the pace brisk as Bill traverses the various stages of the Camino.
The Way, My Way aspires to be a profound exploration of personal growth set against a stunning backdrop. While it succeeds in capturing the beauty of the Camino and the camaraderie that blossoms on the trail, the uneven storytelling and lead performance hold it back from reaching its full potential. If you're looking for a lighthearted travelogue with a touch of introspection, this might be your cup of tea. But those seeking a deeply moving character study might want to revisit another film about the Camino pilgrimage, perhaps The Way starring Martin Sheen.
The Way, My Way is a pleasant meander through the Spanish countryside, but it doesn't quite reach the emotional heights it strives for.
Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga (2024)
A wild ride not to be missed
Furiosa, director George Miller's prequel to the action masterpiece Mad Max: Fury Road, throws us back into the desolate wasteland, this time to chart the course of a younger Imperator Furiosa. Anya Taylor-Joy steps into the iconic role, replacing Charlize Theron, and delivers a fiercely captivating performance that's both vulnerable and steely. We meet Furiosa as a rebellious young woman snatched from her idyllic home, the "Green Place of Many Mothers," and thrust into the clutches of the tyrannical Dementus (Chris Hemsworth in a deliciously over-the-top portrayal). In a world where warlords and sandstorms are rampant, Furiosa's struggle for survival and eventual escape turns into a relentless chase.
While Furiosa lacks the white-knuckle, nonstop action sequences that made Fury Road a cinematic adrenaline shot, it compensates with a deeper exploration of its characters and themes. The film is a coming-of-rage story, showcasing Furiosa's transformation from a victim of circumstance into the formidable warrior we know. Taylor-Joy embodies this journey with captivating intensity, her eyes burning with a determination that transcends the need for excessive dialogue. Hemsworth chews the scenery with gleeful menace as Dementus, a perfect foil to Furiosa's simmering anger.
The film's heart lies in its exploration of female empowerment. Strong women are all around Furiosa, from the enigmatic rebel leader to the resourceful young mothers of the Green Place. This focus on female power feels organic within the Mad Max universe, a refreshing continuation of the themes Miller established in Fury Road.
Visually, Furiosa is stunning. The wasteland is rendered in a palette of bleached-out golds and burnt oranges, a stark contrast to the vibrant greens that haunt Furiosa's memories. The practical effects are impressive, with car chases and stunts that feel thrillingly real, even if they don't quite match the epic scale of Fury Road's action sequences. Simon Duggan's cinematography is a masterclass in capturing the vast emptiness of the wasteland, with occasional close-ups that emphasise the raw emotion on the actors' faces.
The pacing of Furiosa does drag a bit in the middle section, and the ending, while thematically satisfying, feels a touch ambiguous. The score, while atmospheric, doesn't quite capture the operatic intensity of Junkie XL's work in Fury Road.
Furiosa is a worthy prequel that expands the Mad Max universe in a meaningful way. The outstanding cinematography, captivating themes, and powerful performances make this film one that stays with you long after the credits have stopped rolling. While it doesn't quite reach the breakneck speed of its predecessor, it's still a wild ride that fans won't want to miss. See it on the big screen for the full visual impact!
Wild Wild Country (2018)
Truth is weider than fiction!
Wild Wild Country takes you on a stranger-than-fiction journey, following a controversial guru and his devoted followers as they build a utopian city in the middle of nowhere, Oregon. This six-part documentary throws cult clashes, bioterrorism, and shocking twists at you faster than you can say "meditation." While the story's undeniably captivating, with unforgettable characters like the cunning Sheela (watch out, this one's a firecracker!), the doco sometimes feels a tad one-sided, leaving me wanting to dig a little deeper into the motivations of the elusive Bhagwan himself. Still, Wild Wild Country is a wild ride that'll have you glued to the screen, reminding you that sometimes, the truth is way weirder than fiction.
Kaibutsu (2023)
A nuanced exploration of truth and perspective
Hirokazu Kore-eda, the director of Monster, skilfully tells a tale that explores the nature of truth and perception in a small Japanese town. The protagonist of this emotional maze is Minato, a young child who begins acting strangely and worries his mother because she thinks something is off at his school. As different perspectives on the same event emerge, Kore-eda delicately crafts a narrative that challenges our assumptions about innocence, guilt, and society's role in shaping them.
The plot unravels like a multi-layered puzzle, allowing us to glimpse events through the eyes of different characters, each with their own biases and motives. Monster touches on the complexities of bullying, parent-child relationships, and the struggle to discern right from wrong. Although Kore-eda frequently addresses family themes, in this film he also addresses societal ones. The movie's tone oscillates between tense and tender, leaving us alternating between outrage and empathy.
Most of the performances are excellent, with Sakura Andô (the mother) and Eita Nagayama (the teacher) taking the lead. They deliver nuanced portrayals that give emotional heft to scenes involving institutional pressure and maternal anxiety. However, the child actors occasionally struggle to fully embody the nuances required for their roles, leading to some stiff moments that detract from the emotional weight of certain scenes. Still, when the characters' internal battles are laid bare, the results are often compelling.
The directing of Kore-eda displays his distinctive sense of understated drama, favouring realistic lighting and deliberate camera movements that allow the actors to really shine. A poignant score by Ryuichi Sakamoto deepens the tension, while the muted colour palette reinforces the film's reflective tone. Kore-eda's use of long shots provides a sense of isolation, underscoring the social fragmentation at the heart of the story.
The editing, however, could be tighter. The movie sometimes drags, especially in the second act when the layers of perspective start to take away from the story's momentum. A shorter movie might have given the storytelling a stronger thrust.
Monster is a complex study in perspective that, in the end, makes for a satisfying but occasionally tedious watch. The nuanced storytelling, strong performances from the leads, and Kore-eda's deft hand at weaving emotional tapestries elevate the movie above a standard whodunit. While it doesn't always sustain its grip, its poignant themes and layered narrative make it worth the journey. Though it falls short of its lofty goals, Monster is a thought-provoking watch for fans of slow-burning dramas that subvert stereotypes.
Candy (2022)
A character study wrapped in a small-town scandal
Can appearances be deceiving? That's the central question in Candy, a slow-burn true-crime drama following picture-perfect housewife Candy Montgomery (Jessica Biel) and her descent into darkness. Biel delivers a chilling performance, but the story itself struggles to balance its exploration of suburban ennui with genuine thrills. While the 1980s setting and pitch-perfect period details are a treat for nostalgia buffs, the pacing can feel molasses-slow at times, and the "why" behind Candy's actions feels frustratingly underdeveloped. If you're looking for a quick, suspenseful whodunit, this isn't it. But for those who enjoy a character study wrapped in a small-town scandal, Candy might just satisfy your curiosity, even if it doesn't leave you screaming.
Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes (2024)
A visually stunning, respectable sequel
Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes swings back onto the big screen, this time set centuries after Caesar's revolution. Apes now rule, with various societies scattered across the landscape. We follow Noa (Owen Teague), a young chimpanzee from the peaceful Eagle Clan, whose life is upended when a brutal ape leader, Proximus Caesar (Kevin Durand), enslaves his people. Thrown together with a mysterious human woman named Mae (Freya Allan), Noa embarks on a quest for freedom that forces him to confront the past and forge a new future.
Director Wes Ball, known for the Maze Runner series, injects the film with thrilling action sequences. The ape-on-ape combat is brutal and visceral, reminiscent of battles in Rise of the Planet of the Apes. However, the plot feels derivative at times, borrowing heavily from classic post-apocalyptic tropes. The "chosen one" narrative treads familiar ground, and some character motivations could have been fleshed out more.
The creation of its world is where Kingdom truly excels. The ape societies are diverse and intriguing, with the Eagle Clan's reverence for nature in stark contrast to Proximus Caesar's militaristic regime. The film cleverly avoids getting bogged down in exposition, letting the visuals speak volumes. The sweeping landscapes and ape cities are beautifully rendered, with a muted colour palette emphasising the harsh realities of this dystopian world. The special effects, particularly the performance capture, are seamless, making the apes fully believable characters.
The performances are generally strong. Teague portrays Noa's innocence and determination with a sincerity that anchors the film. Allan is a captivating presence as Mae, her character shrouded in secrets that keep us guessing. However, some of the supporting cast fall victim to underdeveloped roles, particularly Proximus Caesar, who feels more like a generic villain than a complex threat.
The score by John Paesano is effective, using pulsating rhythms to heighten the tension during action sequences and melancholic strings to underscore the film's emotional core. The editing is efficient, maintaining a brisk pace that keeps the story moving. But at times, it feels like the film prioritises action over character development, leaving some emotional beats unearned.
Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes is a visually stunning film with a compelling central performance by Teague. However, a predictable plot and underdeveloped characters hold it back from reaching the heights of its predecessors. Fans of the franchise will likely enjoy the return to this world, but those looking for a truly groundbreaking story might be left wanting. With a more nuanced script, Kingdom could have been a roar; instead, it's a respectable, if uninspired, sequel.
Fremont (2023)
A quiet and contemplative exporation of the immigrant experience
Babak Jalali's Fremont is a slow burn character study that lingers on the quiet struggles of Donya (Anaita Wali Zada), an Afghan immigrant trying to piece her life back together in California. Donya, a former translator for the U. S. military, now toils away writing cryptic messages for a Chinese fortune cookie factory. The film follows her introspective journey as she grapples with displacement, cultural clashes, and the ghosts of her past.
While Fremont boasts a beautiful black-and-white aesthetic, reminiscent of classic foreign films, and a lead performance by Zada that's both nuanced and deeply affecting, the narrative itself treads familiar territory. We've seen the immigrant experience explored countless times before, and Jalali doesn't offer much in the way of fresh perspectives. The plot unfolds at a glacial pace, with long, meditative sequences that, while establishing Donya's loneliness, can feel uneventfully drawn-out at times.
There are moments of genuine humour, though. Donya's sessions with her delightfully awkward therapist (Gregg Turkington) provide some much-needed comic relief, and the film's exploration of the absurdity of fortune cookie messages is clever. The score is subtle and melancholic, perfectly complementing the film's introspective tone. The black-and-white cinematography, however, while undeniably stylish, can feel a bit restrictive at times.
While the film doesn't break new ground thematically, it excels in its portrayal of the complexities of navigating a new life, particularly one built on the foundation of displacement. Zada delivers a breakout performance, capturing Donya's quiet strength and vulnerability with remarkable authenticity. Her understated portrayal is the heart and soul of Fremont.
Fremont is a gentle film, a slow, character-driven exploration of loss, resilience, and the search for connection. While its deliberate pace and familiar themes might leave some viewers wanting more, Zada's captivating performance and the film's melancholic beauty are undeniable strengths. If you're looking for a quiet, contemplative film that lingers on the emotional complexities of immigration, Fremont might just resonate with you. But for those seeking a more dynamic narrative or a deeper exploration of cultural identity, this one might feel a bit like a fortune cookie with a bland message: pleasant enough, but ultimately forgettable.
La passion de Dodin Bouffant (2023)
A slow simmer that never quite boils
Anh Hung Tran's The Taste of Things is a slow-burning drama that hinges on the relationship between a renowned chef, Dodin (Benoît Magimel), and his talented sous-chef, Eugénie (Juliette Binoche). Their bond, simmering for over two decades, finally bubbles into a quiet romance. But instead of a feast for the senses, the film feels more like an underseasoned amuse-bouche.
Let's be clear: the cinematography is gorgeous. Long, lingering shots showcase the beauty of the French countryside and the meticulous preparation of exquisite dishes. Food porn enthusiasts will find themselves practically drooling at the close-ups of glistening sauces and perfectly plated creations. The problem is, there's just not enough substance beneath the surface.
The plot, like the film's pacing, is agonisingly slow. We spend an eternity watching them cook, garden, and steal shy glances across the kitchen counter. While some may find this meditative, it left me fidgeting. The central conflict-Eugénie's hesitance to fully commit-feels underdeveloped, and the dialogue, when it appears, is sparse and repetitive. It's a shame, because Binoche and Magimel are both phenomenal actors, capable of conveying volumes with a mere flicker of expression. Here, they're simply not given enough to work with.
The film aspires to be a profound exploration of love, passion, and the art of creating something beautiful together. There are hints of this, particularly in a late scene where Dodin attempts to win Eugénie over through his cooking. But these moments are fleeting, lost in a sea of uneventful sequences. The score, a collection of melancholic piano pieces, reinforces the film's overall muted tone, which some might find soothing, but I found it downright sleepy.
There's a whiff of Babette's Feast here, a film that also celebrates the power of food to connect people. However, Babette's Feast packs an emotional punch that The Taste of Things sorely lacks.
Ultimately, The Taste of Things is a beautiful but frustrating film. If you're looking for a slow, meditative experience and appreciate food cinematography, you might find some solace here. But for those craving a story with a bit more bite, this film might leave you feeling hungry for something more.
The Last Days of Ptolemy Grey (2022)
A poignant, thought-provoking journey
Ptolemy Grey, a 91 year old man grappling with dementia, gets a shot at regaining his memories to solve his nephew's mysterious death. Although the main mystery is a little predictable, Samuel L. Jackson gives a powerful performance as Ptolemy. He portrays the character's confusion and vulnerability with raw honesty, making you forget you're watching a movie star and see a man wrestling with mortality. The supporting cast, especially Dominique Fishback as Ptolemy's unlikely caretaker, Robyn, is equally impressive. However, the plot itself meanders a bit, and the emotional payoff could've been stronger. Still, The Last Days of Ptolemy Grey is a thought-provoking watch, thanks to its stellar acting and unflinching portrayal of ageing and memory loss. So, grab some tissues and settle in one person's poignant journey through the twilight years.
Das Lehrerzimmer (2023)
A character-driven thriller that will make you think
Unassuming settings can breed surprising tension, and that's exactly the case with The Teachers' Lounge. This German thriller takes place mostly within the confines of a school faculty room, transforming the space from a place of tired mugs and lesson plans into a pressure cooker of suspicion and moral quandaries. Newcomer Carla Nowak (Leone Benesch), a passionate teacher with immigrant roots, throws a wrench into the established dynamic when she becomes determined to defend a student accused of theft. What starts as a well-meaning intervention snowballs into a tangled web of accusations, hidden agendas, and the simmering frustrations of a burnt-out faculty.
The film excels at capturing the claustrophobic atmosphere of the staff room. Director Ilker Çatak stages scenes with a keen eye for detail, making the beige walls and flickering fluorescent lights feel increasingly oppressive as the situation escalates. There's a constant sense of "walking on eggshells," with characters delivering pointed barbs disguised as casual conversation. It's reminiscent of Sidney Lumet's 12 Angry Men, but with a dash of dark humour and an added layer of social commentary specific to the German education system.
The strength of The Teachers' Lounge lies in its characters. Benesch delivers a powerful performance as Carla, with her idealism slowly crumbling under the weight of institutional pressure. The supporting cast is equally impressive, each teacher a complex study in jadedness, ambition, and hidden vulnerabilities. We see glimpses of their lives outside the school-a quick phone call to a disinterested spouse, a furtive glance at a dating app-but it's the way they interact within these walls that truly reveals their inner struggles.
The film doesn't rely on jump scares or flashy special effects. Instead, the tension builds steadily through dialogue that's both sharp and naturalistic. There's a scene where a seemingly innocuous conversation about a missing wallet explodes into a full-blown argument, showcasing the brilliance of the script and the actors' ability to deliver a masterclass in passive-aggressive hostility.
The pacing can be quite slow at times, and the ending, while thought-provoking, might leave some viewers wanting more concrete answers. However, these minor quibbles don't detract from the overall impact of the film.
This is a slow burn that lingers long after the credits roll. It compels you to question the complexities of authority, the burden of good intentions, and the cracks that can form within even the most seemingly stable institutions. If you're looking for a character-driven thriller that will make you think twice about the next time you step into a staff room, The Teachers' Lounge is a must-watch.
Freud's Last Session (2023)
A clash of titans on thin ice
Freud's Last Session aims to depict a profound intellectual showdown but falls short of delivering impactful moments. Taking place on the brink of World War II, the movie imagines a fictional encounter between psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud (played by Anthony Hopkins) and author C. S. Lewis (portrayed by Matthew Goode). The concept itself is undeniably fascinating: a clash of ideas about God's existence between these two intellectual giants, set against a world on the edge. However, the actual presentation lacks any potency.
The standout aspect of the film lies in the exceptional performances by its lead actors. Hopkins shines with his portrayal of Freud, capturing both his brilliance and his cantankerous nature with a glint in his eye. Goode holds his ground opposite the seasoned actor, portraying Lewis with a subtle conviction that makes him a worthy adversary. Their verbal sparring forms the core of the movie, showcasing moments of genuine intellectual intensity. One memorable scene involves Lewis challenging Freud's dismissal of religion as mere illusion-a moment that sparks both contemplation and emotion. But most of the focus is on Freud's talking and Lewis's quiet listening. I've read a lot about both of these historical figures, and it is hard to believe that Lewis wouldn't have been a more intellectually challenging interlocutor.
Despite the strong performances, the film falters in other areas. With most scenes confined to Freud's study, the singular setting becomes tedious, and attempts to intersperse it with flashbacks come across as contrived. The historical backdrop-the impending war-feels underutilised and fails to leave a lasting impact. The sense of urgency adds an interesting layer to the film, but it falls short of truly delving into how these events impact the characters' beliefs.
The dialogue, despite aiming for deep insights, mostly misses the mark. The film heavily relies on characters explaining their philosophies rather than letting them naturally unfold through conversation-mostly dominated by Freud's talking and controlling the dialogue. This approach makes the intellectual debates seem rehearsed, lacking the authentic spontaneity of a real discussion. It's akin to watching a tennis match where players announce their shots before making them-that's the vibe you get here.
Similarly, while the musical score is competent, it doesn't quite enhance the film as intended. It leans on typical orchestral swells to emphasise key moments without delving into deeper thematic layers that could have resonated with its philosophical themes. Likewise, the cinematography serves its purpose but lacks creative inspiration. The muted colour palette reflects the overall tone of the film but fails to deliver any visually striking moments.
Freud's Last Session aims to be a thought-provoking exploration of faith and reason. The lead performances are solid, and the premise is certainly intriguing. However, it struggles due to its confined setting, clunky dialogue, and lacklustre technical aspects. Despite a few scattered instances of intellectual stimulation, the movie's flaws overshadow them. In the end, Freud's Last Session is like a boxing match between heavyweights that turns out to be more of a lightweight showdown. Some may wish for more if they enjoy historical dramas and philosophical debates. If you're in search of a truly impactful exploration of faith and reason, you might want to explore other options.
The Fall Guy (2024)
A fumbled fall
David Leitch's latest action-comedy, The Fall Guy, boasts a charming cast and a premise ripe with comedic potential. However, much like a stuntman missing his mark, the film stumbles in its execution, leaving me with a feeling of "been there, done that."
The plot centres around Colt Seavers (Ryan Gosling), a washed-up stuntman lured back into the game when a Hollywood star mysteriously vanishes from a big-budget production. While the idea of a stuntman doubling as an investigator is intriguing, the mystery itself feels derivative. We've seen this whodunit play out countless times before, complete with red herrings, double-crosses, and a climax that feels telegraphed a mile away.
The film's saving grace, however, is its charismatic lead duo. Gosling brings a winning blend of cockiness and vulnerability to Colt, while Emily Blunt shines as Jody Moreno, the film's sharp-tongued director and Colt's potential love interest. Their banter is genuinely funny at times, and their chemistry is undeniable. But even their talents can't elevate the film's predictable script, riddled with clichés and groan-worthy jokes.
Leitch, known for his work on action films like John Wick, delivers on the stunt sequences. The practical effects are impressive, showcasing the daring and skill of stunt performers. There's a clear love for the craft on display, reminiscent of classic action comedies like Rush Hour. However, the frenetic editing style, with its rapid cuts and shaky camerawork, often undermines the impact of these scenes, leaving me feeling disoriented rather than exhilarated.
The Fall Guy tries to capture the spirit of 80s action-adventure flicks, but it lacks the heart and humour of those films. The soundtrack, while energetic, leans heavily on nostalgia without offering anything fresh. The cinematography is serviceable, but the use of colour feels bland and uninspired.
Ultimately, The Fall Guy is a frustrating missed opportunity. It has the potential to be a crowd-pleaser, but its derivative plot, underwhelming direction, and forgettable score hold it back. While there are moments of genuine amusement, thanks largely to the cast, the film feels like a pale imitation of its action-comedy predecessors.
So, should you see it? If you're looking for a mindless action flick with a forgettable plot and some decent stunts, The Fall Guy might do it for you. But for those seeking a truly entertaining and clever experience, this one's a flop.
Aku wa sonzai shinai (2023)
Nature vs Neon
Ryûsuke Hamaguchi's Evil Does Not Exist is a very slow burn of a film, a character study disguised as an eco-drama. Nestled in the serene Mizubiki Village, a community thrives on a deep connection to nature. Their tranquility is shattered by the arrival of slick Tokyo suits proposing a glamping resort-a luxurious "escape" to nature for city dwellers. What follows is a clash of values, a meditation on the complexities of progress, and the blurry line between good and evil.
Hamaguchi doesn't hit us over the head with environmental messages. Instead, he lets the beauty of the Japanese countryside speak for itself. Lush forests and tranquil rivers become characters, a stark contrast to the sterile, neon-lit world the city reps represent. This visual poetry is amplified by the film's score, a melancholic blend of strings and woodwinds that perfectly captures the tension between tradition and modernity.
The acting is understated, mirroring the film's pacing. Hitoshi Omika, as Takumi, the gruff but conflicted villager, delivers a nuanced performance. We see his internal struggle-the fear of change wrestling with the desire to protect his way of life. The Tokyo reps, played by Ryô Nishikawa and Ryûji Kosaka, are initially portrayed as villains, all smiles and empty promises. However, as the film progresses, their own vulnerabilities peek through, reminding us that there's rarely a clear-cut bad guy in real life.
The plot of Evil Does Not Exist unfolds deliberately, sometimes feeling glacial. There are long stretches of dialogue that, while beautifully written, could test the patience of viewers expecting a more action-oriented film. The ending, too, occurs at a point where there is no resolution to the story, leaving us to scratch our heads wondering what might happen rather than being told. But there is a reason for this. By ending the movie (but not the story) in this way, Hamaguchi forces us to confront our own perspectives on the story, a tactic that might backfire for those seeking easy answers. There aren't any.
This won't be a film for everyone. Forget it if you want a fast-paced thriller. You will be disappointed. However, if you appreciate slow cinema and nuanced character studies, Evil Does Not Exist offers a rewarding experience. While the untranslated credits rolled, I just sat there, reflecting on our relationship with nature, the allure of progress, and the shades of grey that exist between good and evil. If you enjoyed contemplative films like Burning or Drive My Car (I enjoyed Evil Does Not Exist more), Evil Does Not Exist is definitely worth a watch. Just be prepared for a slow burn and an ending that will leave you pondering.
Abigail (2024)
A bite that's more fun than fright
Abigail serves up a campy horror cocktail that's more Scream than Nosferatu. Giancarlo Esposito, who plays the enigmatic Lambert, leads a ragtag group of kidnappers in the abduction of Abigail, the seemingly innocent daughter of a powerful crime lord. But this isn't your typical hostage situation. After a series of hilariously botched plans and some genuinely creepy moments, the crew discovers their captive is anything but ordinary-she's a full-fledged vampire with a taste for, well, blood.
The film throws it all at the wall: dark humour, buckets of gore (courtesy of some impressive practical effects), and a surprising amount of heart. While the plot won't win any originality awards, borrowing heavily from familiar "home invasion gone wrong" tropes, it's the execution that keeps things entertaining. The first act crackles with energy, establishing the bickering dynamic of the kidnappers, a motley crew that feels straight out of a Quentin Tarantino flick. We've got the hothead (complete with a questionable neck tattoo), the tech whiz with a penchant for cheesy one-liners, and the obligatory damsel (who, thankfully, gets a chance to shine later on).
Esposito, channelling his inner Don Draper, is a scene-stealer, even with limited screentime. But the real breakout performance comes from newcomer Alisha Weir as Abigail. She effortlessly shifts between wide-eyed innocence and bloodthirsty predator, making the character both terrifying and strangely endearing. The supporting cast holds their own, with some genuinely funny exchanges.
The direction by Matt Bettinelli-Olpin walks the tightrope between stylish and self-aware. The camerawork is dynamic, with some clever slanting and tilting angles during the more intense sequences. The score, a blend of classic gothic horror cues and modern synth, perfectly complements the film's offbeat tone. The editing is sharp, keeping the pace brisk, although a few jump scares feel a tad forced.
Sometimes the dialogue can be uneven, with witty banter interspersed with awkward exposition dumps. The ending, while satisfying in its own campy way, feels a little rushed. Die-hard horror purists might find the humour undermines the scares, but for those looking for a fun, gory romp with a surprising amount of charm, Abigail delivers.
Overall, Abigail is a solid genre-bender that knows exactly what it wants to be-a popcorn flick with a bite (pun intended). If you're in the mood for some laughs alongside the shrieks, this one's for you. Just don't expect a cinematic masterpiece.
Challengers (2024)
Love Match, Lose-Lose Story
Luca Guadagnino's latest, Challengers, throws viewers onto the centre court of a passionate but messy love triangle. Tashi (Zendaya), a former tennis prodigy turned coach, is desperate to reignite the fading flame of her husband Art's (Mike Faist) career. Her unorthodox solution? Enter Patrick (Josh O'Connor), Art's estranged best friend and Tashi's ex-boyfriend, into a low-level challenger event. Let's just say things get complicated-fast.
On paper, Challengers has all the ingredients for a gripping neo-noir drama. The sizzling chemistry between Zendaya and Faist is undeniable, and the psychological warfare that unfolds between the three leads is initially captivating. However, the film quickly fumbles its potential. The plot, while intriguing at its core, takes nonsensical detours that leave the audience feeling lost. The editing, with its jumpy cuts and unnecessary slow-motion sequences, disrupts the narrative flow rather than enhancing it. The dialogue, riddled with cliches and overly dramatic pronouncements, feels like a bad tennis pun-all forehand, no finesse.
Guadagnino's direction is a mixed bag. There are moments of visual brilliance, like the camerawork that mimics the frenetic energy of a high-stakes tennis match. But these glimpses are overshadowed by a general lack of focus. The film's pacing is uneven, lurching between drawn-out melodrama and rushed plot points. The use of symbolism is heavy-handed, with shots lingering on tennis balls and trophies as if the audience needs the emotional subtext spelt out.
The saving grace of Challengers lies in its central performances. Zendaya delivers a fierce and committed portrayal of Tashi, a woman consumed by ambition and a flicker of unresolved feelings. O'Connor is equally compelling as the brooding Patrick, his character simmering with resentment and a hint of vulnerability. Faist, however, struggles with the underwritten role of Art, who mostly functions as a pawn in the emotional tug-of-war.
While the film attempts to explore themes of ambition, love, and betrayal, it all feels a bit surface-level. There's a lack of depth to the characters' motivations, and the emotional payoffs fall flat. Compared to classic sports dramas that delve into the complexities of the athlete's psyche, Challengers feels like a missed volley.
Ultimately, Challengers is a frustrating watch. It boasts undeniable star power and intriguing thematic potential, but squanders it all with a convoluted plot, questionable direction, and clunky writing. If you're looking for a thought-provoking sports drama or a steamy love triangle, this film is a double fault.
Jeanne du Barry (2023)
From rags to royalty (with reservations)
Jeanne du Barry plunges into the opulent world of 18th-century Versailles, following the remarkable rise of Jeanne Bécu (played by director Maïwenn herself), a woman born into poverty who claws her way up the social ladder to become the last mistress of King Louis XV (Johnny Depp). The film chronicles their unconventional romance amidst the whispers and machinations of a jealous court.
While Jeanne du Barry boasts undeniable strengths, it ultimately settles for a comfortable mediocrity. Maïwenn's portrayal of Jeanne is the film's heart and soul. She imbues the character with a sharp wit and a fierce determination to survive, causing you to admire her improbable journey. However, Depp's Louis XV feels muted. Trapped under layers of powdered wigs and regal attire, his performance lacks the spark needed to truly capture the complexity of a king burdened by ennui.
The historical context, though not deeply explored, provides a fascinating backdrop. We see glimpses of a society teetering on the brink of revolution, where the extravagance of the court clashes with the growing discontent of the people. This juxtaposition adds a touch of weight to the narrative, but the film doesn't fully explore the social commentary it seems to hint at.
Visually, the film is a treat. The production design meticulously recreates the opulent halls of Versailles, with rich fabrics, gilded furniture, and sparkling chandeliers transporting you to another era. The costumes are equally impressive, a dazzling array of silks and satins that bring the characters to life. The camerawork is steady, but doesn't take many risks, relying on traditional shot compositions.
The score is a pleasant mix of classical and orchestral pieces that complement the on-screen action without being overly dramatic. The editing is efficient, ensuring a smooth and brisk pace. The dialogue, however, can be uneven at times. While some scenes crackle with witty repartee, others fall flat, relying on exposition rather than letting the visuals do the talking.
Jeanne du Barry reminded me, in some ways, of Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette. Both films explore the lives of women who, despite their positions of privilege, are ultimately trapped by societal expectations. However, Marie Antoinette leans into a dreamlike aesthetic and a more melancholic tone, whereas Jeanne du Barry strives for a more grounded historical drama.
Overall, Jeanne du Barry is a visually stunning and entertaining movie that benefits from Mawenn's captivating performance. However, a shallow exploration of its themes and a somewhat underwhelming lead performance from Depp hold it back from greatness. If you're looking for a lavish historical romance with a strong female lead, this is worth watching. But for those seeking a deeper exploration of the characters and their place in history, you may leave with a desire for more.
Back to Black (2024)
A symphony of talent and turmoil
Back to Black isn't just a biopic; it's a raw exploration of a singular talent battling inner demons. The film chronicles Amy Winehouse's (Marisa Abela) passionate but volatile relationship with Blake Fielder-Civil (Jack O'Connell), a whirlwind romance that fueled her Grammy-winning album of the same name.
Director Sam Taylor-Johnson doesn't shy away from the darkness. We see Amy's struggles with addiction laid bare, the paparazzi feeding off her descent. There's a harrowing scene in a bathroom, the fluorescent lights casting a cold, clinical glow on a moment of despair. It's a tough watch, but it underscores the human cost of fame.
Abela (who actually did all the singing-no miming) delivers a phenomenal performance. She captures not just Amy's swagger and signature beehive hair, but also her vulnerability. There's a heartbreaking sequence where Amy pours her soul into a recording booth, her voice cracking with raw emotion. You believe she's channelling her pain into music, and Abela deserves a standing ovation for that.
The film falters slightly in its focus. While the love story is central, it occasionally overshadows Amy's musical brilliance. We see glimpses of her creative process, her smoky jazz influences, but it would've been great to delve deeper. This isn't a criticism of the film's length but rather a testament to Amy's multifaceted life.
Then there's the soundtrack. Oh, the soundtrack! It's a masterstroke. Hearing Amy's iconic songs, from the sassy Rehab to the torchy ballad Love Is a Losing Game, in full cinematic glory is a gift. The score by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis complements the music perfectly, adding a melancholic edge.
Back to Black isn't a sugar-coated biopic. It's a cautionary tale, a love letter to a lost talent, and a testament to the enduring power of music. It left me wanting more Amy, more music, but also with a profound respect for her artistry. If you're a fan or simply appreciate raw talent battling for expression, this film deserves a spot on your watchlist. Just be prepared for an emotional rollercoaster; it's a wild ride, but undeniably powerful.
Civil War (2024)
A powerful, thought-provoking masterpiece
In Alex Garland's enigmatic Civil War, the year is a fractured 2024, and America is embroiled in a chillingly familiar conflict. We follow four journalists as they navigate a warzone with no clear battle lines. Their mission: to capture the truth amidst the chaos, a truth that feels just out of reach. Two of the journalists who are the primary focus of the movie are the jaded veteran Lee (Kirsten Dunst) and the wide-eyed rookie Jessie (Cailee Spaeny).
Garland masterfully weaves historical echoes into the film's fabric. The haunt of the original American Civil War hangs heavy, with desolate landscapes mirroring those of iconic photographs. This isn't a history lesson, though. It's a nightmarish reflection, forcing us to confront the potential consequences of America's current divisions. The film doesn't spoon-feed answers; it invites uncomfortable conversations, a quality that elevates it from a mere war film to a powerful social commentary.
Thematically, Civil War is a gut punch. It explores the dehumanising effects of war, the erosion of trust, and the numbing power of constant violence. Every scene has a palpable sense of dread, with brief glimpses of unadulterated humanity. One scene, a tense exchange between Lee and a lone soldier guarding a desolate outpost, exemplifies this perfectly. Dunst delivers a heart-wrenching performance, conveying years of war weariness in a single, tear-filled glance. Spaeny complements her brilliantly, portraying a character grappling with the brutal realities of a conflict she barely understands.
Technically, the film is flawless. Garland's direction is assured, building tension without resorting to cheap thrills. The score is a haunting soundscape, perfectly matching the film's bleak atmosphere. The cinematography is raw and unflinching, placing the audience directly in the heart of the conflict. The use of colour is particularly striking. Washed-out greys and browns dominate, creating a sense of hopelessness that mirrors the characters' struggle.
The editing is sharp, keeping the pace relentless and mirroring the chaotic nature of war. The dialogue is sparse but impactful, with every word carrying weight. Unlike some war films that glorify violence, Civil War doesn't shy away from its ugliness. It forces us to confront the human cost, leaving a lasting impression.
Civil War isn't an easy watch. It's a film that will stay with you, provoking thought and discussion. It's reminiscent of classics like Apocalypse Now in its unflinching portrayal of war's brutality, but with a chillingly contemporary twist. This isn't just a movie, it's a reminder of the fragility of peace and the very real dangers of a divided nation.
This is a film that demands to be seen. It's a powerful, thought-provoking masterpiece.
Monkey Man (2024)
A whirlwind of action and vengeance
Dev Patel's directorial debut (which he also wrote), Monkey Man, is a whirlwind of action and vengeance, set against the backdrop of a teeming, unnamed Indian metropolis. We meet our protagonist, a nameless young man (also played by Patel), shrouded in mystery. By night, he dons a gorilla mask and throws fists in a brutal underground fight club, his body etched with cryptic scars. He travels the city's underbelly during the day, his rage simmering. A chance encounter sets him on a collision course with the city's corrupt elite, and the Monkey Man emerges, a symbol of rebellion unleashing a bloody reckoning.
The film is undeniably stylish. The fight choreography is visceral and balletic, drawing inspiration from Asian martial arts films. Patel throws himself into the action with impressive commitment, and the camera lingers on the raw brutality, making the violence feel impactful, if not gratuitous at times. The score throbs with energy, mirroring the frenetic pace of the action sequences.
However, Monkey Man stumbles when it attempts to balance its pulpy action with social commentary. The film weaves in themes of poverty, corruption, and forgotten communities, but these elements feel underdeveloped. Flashbacks to the protagonist's past are heavy-handed, spoon-feeding emotional beats that could have been more effectively conveyed through Patel's stoic yet expressive performance.
That performance is, undeniably, the film's strongest element. Patel embodies the quiet intensity of a man consumed by vengeance. He's ably supported by Sharlto Copley, who is chilling as the film's villain, a man who oozes a sense of entitlement that makes him utterly loathsome.
The cinematography is serviceable, capturing the grit and grime of the city, but it lacks the visual flair that could have elevated the film's aesthetic. The editing, while frenetic during the action sequences, feels sluggish at times in the expository scenes.
Monkey Man reminds me of films like John Wick with its balletic brutality but without the world-building or emotional depth. It's a film that's more interested in style than substance, but Patel's charismatic performance and the sheer visceral thrill of the action sequences keep it watchable.
Ultimately, Monkey Man is a frustrating mix of potential and missed opportunities. It's a film with a pulsing heart but a muddled mind. If you're looking for a stylish action flick with a hint of social commentary, Monkey Man might scratch that itch. I enjoyed it, but it left me less than satisfied.