Review Category: Movie

The debut feature from Hayden Hewitt (Lips) is an unflinching kitchen sink horror that delivers both visually and emotionally.

Cara (a fantastic Elle O’Hara) is eking out an existence in a shared flat, doing webcam ‘shows’ to make ends meet. She attends a group therapy session with people she doesn’t relate to and is abused by people who feel they can buy her. She’s also determined not to return to the institution she left. She teams up with the manipulative John Fisk (a gloriously nasty turn from Johnny Vivash) to concoct a plan that’ll stop that and pay back in the most extreme way those who have had a hand in causing her mental issues.

Cara is a strong and disturbing picture of 21st-century England. There are no doubt problems like these in every estate in the country. We only hope the outcome for the real people isn’t as brutal. Cara’s life is bleakly realistic, and the ‘horror movie’ elements are depicted in a viciously natural manner. This is no exploitation film, no matter how gory things get. Although she’s a victim of her circumstances, it’s difficult not to sympathise with Cara, which is a testament to Elle O’Hara’s commitment to the role. Likewise, Johnny Vivash once again proves he’s one of the most versatile character actors in the UK. The supporting cast deserves praise, too. James Dreyfus, as the social worker who draws the short straw of having Cara as a client, perfectly depicts the weary, tick-boxing drone who has had all his empathy kicked out of him by a broken system. There are also small but pivotal performances from Laurence R. Harvey as a cafe owner and Michaela Longden as Cara’s suffering flatmate.

The themes raised by Cara are often hard to face head-on, and the outcome difficult to stomach, with Hewitt pushing the audience to breaking point along with the titular character. The dialogue is unflinchingly believable and could see Hewitt being the Ken Loach of horror.

CARA is set for a digital release on Feb 17th. Read our interviews with actors Elle O’Hara and Johnny Vivash and writer/director Hayden Hewitt.

Captain America: Brave New World doesn’t rise to match its star’s obvious preparedness for the moment. Anthony Mackie is Captain America. He’s ready for his new role, but the role – and its place in the MCU – isn’t quite ready for him. Indeed, very little about his first true outing as Steve Rogers’ replacement evidences Marvel’s supposed confidence in this pivotal passing of the torch. Brave New World has its bright spots, but they can’t smudge the film’s sobering bottom line: it’s a shockingly uneventful mainline addition to a franchise in dire need of some direction, one that even Harrison Ford’s spirited attempt to sell us a softer, less growth-averse Thaddeus Ross can’t save.

Many of Brave New World‘s shortcomings are technical. Breathless pacing and shoddy editing render long stretches of the story nearly incomprehensible. Key moments – such as the first act’s expository get-together at the White House – end far too early, again reflecting the MCU’s inability to let its proceedings breathe. Couple that with its many sloppy action sequences, and you’ve got a superhero movie that’s more confounding than enjoyable.

This latest Marvel entry isn’t too interested in advancing the grander MCU narrative (not a problem in and of itself), but it also doesn’t stand especially well on its own (definitely a problem). This is a shame, because besides being eager to fill Cap’s spangled fit, Mackie is already more than worthy of both shield and mantle. The movie just doesn’t showcase him the way it should, though it’s not for lack of trying. It’s clear that director Julius Onah, working from a script he co-wrote with Peter Glanz and The Falcon and the Winter Soldier collaborators Malcolm Spellman, Dalan Musson, and Rob Edwards, wants to nail this.

Onah’s efforts are most apparent in his handling of Ross/Red Hulk. Ford, replacing the late William Hurt, deftly communicates the character’s torment. Until now, the MCU has mostly kept Ross and his baggage at arm’s length. The guy has recurred throughout Marvel’s big screen continuity, but even his more substantial appearances in The Incredible Hulk and Captain America: Civil War feel guarded compared to what Brave New World hopes to achieve. We see – and occasionally feel – how heavy his regret is for him, and had the script wiggled that knife just a bit more, the movie could’ve been nearly as much of a showcase for Ford as it’s meant to be for Mackie.

The Cap/Ross tension could’ve been Brave New World‘s greatest asset, but instead, it’s in their charged political sparring matches that all the script’s flaws lay themselves bare.  During the last act, after much squabbling, Cap levels with Ross, saying he, too, feels like he has something to prove. The diabolical Samuel Sterns (Tim Blake Nelson) has manoeuvred both of them into direct conflict with each other, meaning, of course, that their salvation is only possible if they work together. This moment, like so many others here, glances when it could’ve been a gut punch. Sam’s inner struggle is only visible in the way others treat him. Nameless adversaries taunt him, underestimate him, and unfavourably compare him to Steve Rogers, but that just isn’t enough. Deciding what kind of Cap he wants to be is Sam Wilson’s whole deal, yet the film treats his struggle as an afterthought, bringing it up when it’s rhythmically appropriate but not doing the work to hammer it home for the viewer.

It’s not all bad, though. Sam Wilson has had a few in-universe years to adjust to his new title, and it shows. He upgraded his suit, upped his hand-to-hand combat skills, and found new uses for his trusty drone, Red Wing. More importantly, though, Mackie instantly channels the requisite integrity and sturdy character of a worthy Captain America: doing the right thing even when it’s the hardest way to play it, confronting power when it’s out of line, and moving with the beautiful, infectious earnestness of someone who takes their duty seriously. His banter with new Falcon Joaquin Torres (Danny Ramirez), echoing early Sam/Steve interactions, also goes a long way in endearing him to us further. Sadly, though, none of these highlights amount to an enjoyable experience.

With Captain America: Brave New World, the MCU tries – and mostly fails – to rally behind its new Cap, slamming us with poorly shot action, half-assed emotional beats, and an unwillingness to realise its socio-political potential. Sam Wilson deserves better.

Catching the late bus into town, a young woman (Vero Maynez) finds herself stranded in suburban Chicago when the family she’s supposed to be staying with all abruptly disappear. Trudging to her cousin’s home, she is perturbed to find no answer at the door and the phone ringing out. Is anybody home?

Written and directed by Mickey Keating (Offseason, Carnage Park, Psychopaths), Invader is a lean and nasty version of the home invasion movie, embodied by producer and antagonist Joe Swanberg. Ironically, the film is at its most tense before its heroine ever gets indoors – expertly capturing the terror of being a woman walking home alone late at night. But it never really lets up, from loud beginning to frantic end. There are elements of The Collector and Hate Crime to its cruel and violent action, but what Invader best captures is a sense of escalating madness and anxiety that’s rare outside of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre itself.

If the colonialism allegory is clear enough, the way it leans into other(ing) tropes for a cheap thrill will leave a sour taste in the mouth for some, as will its chaotic, motion sickness-inducing final act. Running at a brisk 70 minutes, Invader burns hot and fast, staying just long enough to kick the doors in and trash the joint.

INVADER is in select US cinemas from February 21st

 

First-time director/writer Drew Hancock delivers an impressive and thrilling calling card with Companion, a film that superficially treads familiar ground in its AI-centred subject matter yet delivers a story that’s full of twists and surprises alongside some proper belly laughs. We’re only in February but Companion is a film that’s likely to be on many people’s ‘films of the year’ list come December.

Companion opens with the first meeting between dreamy Iris (Sophie Thatcher) and clumsy Josh (Jack Quaid) in a supermarket. The attraction between the two is instant. A few months later, they’re a couple and driving into the countryside to spend some time with their friends. Kat (Megan Suri) is distant and detached and clearly doesn’t like Iris for… well, reasons. Sergey (Rupert Friend) is Kat’s slightly sleazy -and extremely rich – new boyfriend. Eli (Harvey Guillén) and Patrick (Lukas Gage) are completely loved up and barely have eyes for anyone else. But there’s an odd and uncomfortable atmosphere amongst the group, and an incident occurs that changes the dynamic altogether as we discover that secrets and lies lurk around every corner…

Obviously, we’re going no deeper into the plot  – if you’ve seen the trailer but not yet seen the film, then you already have a fair idea of where Companion is going. What you won’t suspect, though, are the glorious and deftly constructed turns of a plot that pivots effortlessly from broadly funny to shocking and startling and then back again. It’s a film you really won’t be able to second-guess because as soon as you think you’ve got a handle on it, something new and unexpected (and, to be honest, a little unlikely even within the confines of a horror/sci-fi hybrid) comes along to completely wrongfoot you. Hancock’s smart direction really puts the meagre budget (just $10 million) on the screen (most of the film takes place in one location), and Quaid and, especially, Sophie Thatcher (seen recently in the excellent Heretic) are terrific, but there are no weak links in the film’s small cast and despite some big ideas and huge narrative swings that the film takes, Hancock’s nimble, knowing script makes it all feel quite intimate and personal and we can’t help investing in this bunch of characters even if none of them are really very nice people.

Companion is an unexpected delight in a post-Christmas season that often throws out cheap and cheerful but ultimately forgettable and unimaginative low-budget horror fare. Companion is a breath of fresh air in a genre that can often feel stale, stifling and mundane.  Don’t take our word for it – just go and see it. Take a friend.

COMPANION is in UK and US cinemas now

Kosaka Shinzaemon of the Aizu clan (Makiya Yamaguchi) is a proud samurai fixed on a deadly mission of revenge when, mid duel to the death, he is struck by lightning and hurled 150 years into the future… onto the set of a samurai TV show.

In this familiar screwball ‘man out of time’ set-up (see also Les Visiteur, Austin Powers, California/Encino Man…) with the innocent and unworldly Kosaka encountering 21st-century Japan, Samurai in Time plays only gently and briefly for laughs before settling itself into a deeply earnest paean to the genre of jidaigeki (samurai period drama). Surrounded by kind, helpful and encouraging strangers who either dismiss or are charmed by his unworldliness, Kosaka uses his archaic swordfighting skills to become a jidaigeki stuntman (or ‘kirareyaku’, if you want to get technical), getting ‘killed’ by several different heroes a week.

In the lead role, Yamaguchi is genuinely excellent, nuanced and heartbreakingly earnest (in keeping with the tone of the film). And, he’s supported by a similarly dignified foil in Norimasa Fuke. Sadly, in the rest of the cast, the acting can be broad and stagey, especially from several key supporting characters, meaning the acting in the films within the film often seems more real than the reactions of those ‘filming’ them.

In spite of the time-travel set up, A Samurai in Time is a tribute to the kirareyaku and to the jidaigeki genre. As such, it is somewhat hampered by its sci-fi/fantasy element, as Yamaguchi’s utter earnestness is diluted in playing a double game of both a samurai committed to an ancient code of honour and a stuntman loyal to a dying genre. In this way, writer-director Jun’ichi Yasuda posits the idea that to be a star of jidaigeki is to be a man out of time all too successfully. The idea of the protagonist being a literal late-shogunate-era samurai becomes something of a hat on a hat, a distraction from the true beating heart of the film, which itself is a beautiful and valid thing – the honour and dignity to be found in dramatically pretending to die on camera at the point of a bamboo katana.

A Samurai in Time is touring UK cinemas in February and March 2025 as part of the Japan Foundation Touring Film Programme.

Addison Heimann’s Touch Me opens with Joey (Olivia Taylor Dudley) recounting a vivid story to her therapist, Kelly (Ashley Lauren Nedd), about meeting an alien who wants to save the world. This is all part of an ‘immersion therapy’ used to treat OCD and PTSD. It’s a single-shot monologue that’s incredibly engrossing and immediately draws us into Joey’s world. She living with her friend, Craig (Jordan Gavaris), who’s depressed, panicky, and living off his family’s money (which he spends more than he gets). The pair take up an invitation from Brian, the alien (Lou Taylor Pucci), to stay with him at his remote and enormous house, which is serendipitous since their shower is filling with faeces (forcing them to use ‘Silence of the Lambs cream’). At Brian’s house, they experience various different ‘therapies’ from the enigmatic Christ-like entity, the daily routine akin to a health camp and evenings often spent in carnal cross-species, tentacled intercourse. Brian’s assistant, an older woman named Laura (Marlene Forte), provides aid and resentment towards Joey. As the pair open up to their host, things become even more intense.

Touch Me provokes reactions similar to those in Heimann’s previous film, Hypochondriac (2022) – the wolf mask even makes a hilarious appearance – and also has illness at its heart. Everyone in Brian’s orbit has suffered troubled childhoods, something he appears to feed upon as much as he does with the sex sessions. Mixing off-the-wall humour and a striking visual style that owes much to the Japanese ‘Pink’ films, Touch Me goes to some incredibly dark places but does so in a captivating and evocative way. The themes of abuse and addiction can be uncomfortable, but the sharp dialogue and keen performances keep it from being too morose. It also works as a bizarre satire of ‘wellness’ retreats, invasive therapy sessions, the pursuit of happiness, and unhealthy co-dependent relationships.

As nightmarish as it is emotional and funny as it outlandish, Touch Me deserves to be on the radar of any cult movie fan who can handle the triggers.