Review Category: Movie

The Witch director Robert Eggers’ homage to the seminal German Expressionist masterpiece Nosferatu, this entry into the folk horror canon is an always-stunning, blood-curdling, beautifully discomfiting film that’s more than worthy of its predecessor.

Through his films, Eggers has consistently demonstrated his love for the history and artistry of cinema, and Nosferatu is an oeuvre that encapsulates both the genuine horror of the 1922 film by F.W. Murnau and the tragic Romanticism of the Dracula lore, all while boldly trekking into the landscape of female sexual psyche. Not only does this film honour its forbearers in its beauty, it invigorates this Gothic tale with a distinctly modern thematic twist.

In the 1830s, estate agent Thomas Hutter (Nicholas Hoult) travels to the Carpathian Mountains for an unnerving meeting with the mysterious Count Orlok (Bill Skarsgård), a haunting presence dipped in shadow who lurks at the edge of the frame for much of the film. In his absence, Hutter’s new bride, Ellen (Lily-Rose Depp in an Oscar-worthy performance), is left under the care of their friends, Friedrich and Anna Harding (Aaron Taylor-Johnson and Emma Corrin). Assailed by horrific visions, bouts of somnambulism and fits, and plagued by a growing sense of dread, Ellen soon spirals out of hers, or anyone’s, control.

Nosferatu is a welcome return to, and celebration of, the long-established connection between vampires and feminine identity and its providing a means of tackling the shame and taboos surrounding women’s historic sexual oppression. This is unequivocally Ellen’s story, about the quieter struggle of internalised self-hatred and desire, or of women’s eternal battle existing within the Madonna-Whore complex. Eggers’ work recognises why vampire stories have so long called to women; Their power is in how it allows us to accept and admire, even just for a moment, some of the most socially unacceptable parts of ourselves. Simultaneously however, Ellen’s relationships with Count Orlok and Thomas recognises the ways in which women are conditioned to accept love in whatever diminished quantity and quality that they can receive it, and will sometimes reject love they don’t believe themselves worthy of.

The story exists within that fundamental conflict between Ellen’s desire and shame. The tension between the perceived destruction she wreaks when she holds agency and her powerlessness in the face of limited choices is ever-engrossing, while her fight to reclaim her autonomy and self-worth is what drives Nosferatu onwards to a haunting, devastating climax that’s equal parts Greek tragedy, Romantic Epic, and raw horror. Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu is a masterpiece on every level: it’s an exquisitely realised artistic vision, a story that’s beautifully brutal and harrowing, and an unapologetically feminist iteration of the vampire lore.

Nosferatu releases in UK cinemas on January 1st, 2025. 

Witch lives in basement. Witch kills inhabitants of house.

That’s pretty much all there is to Aaron Fradkin’s new film Beezel, and that premise would be entirely acceptable if it was implemented with any degree of cohesion. Instead, we have confusing cinematography, inconsistent performances and strange tonal choices that lead to a disjointed and curious finished film.

Over 60 years, centuries-old witch Beezel murders and eats various unfortunate residents and visitors aided by those she has either possessed or bewitched. The whys and the wherefores are of no concern to Fradkin; this is a simple, familiar story with smatterings of gore and with a finale that is intended to shock and surprise. And yet, you never really feel at all invested in any of it. Multiple filming styles don’t help, with Fradkin switching between grainy home video, traditional camera work and found footage, with there being scant justification for these variations. The found footage seems solely to serve as a tool to avoid showing the witch, which, as a technique utilised by fledgling filmmakers on low budgets, can be highly effective, but here, it quickly becomes tiresome and frustrating.

As for Beezel, while horror creatures don’t always require a firm motive, there doesn’t seem to be any discernible reason for her existence or continued presence in the house, with the foreshadowed ending adding further to the confusion.

With shallow characters acting oddly – at one point, a woman puts on her husband’s dead mother’s lingerie in order to seduce him – and a story with less flesh on its bones than the titular witch, Beezel is sadly rather disappointing and bland.

With a simplistic premise and a plot so thin it barely warrants mention, director Justin Routt relies on action set pieces built around a tense stand-off for his new movie Armor. Which is fine, in theory. Sylvester Stallone has assembled a filmography peppered with perfectly acceptable, largely successful fare that embraces that very theory. But here, when the concept of a chase sequence is boiled down to a black car repeatedly ramming into a grey van for no apparent reason, the key foundations Routt is building on are weak at best.

For unexplained reasons, James (Jason Patric) and his son Casey (Josh Wiggins) work together as armoured truck drivers. It seems strange to have such close family operating together in this environment, but the film doesn’t care, so neither should you. On a routine pickup, there is an extra case on the manifest, but after a little shrugging, the boys head off, straight into the trap set by Stallone and his band of incompetent thieves. Cue tense standoff.

Or rather, don’t. Spoiler alert: the mysterious extra case apparently contains cartel gold, Stallone wants it, Patric doesn’t want to give it to him, Stallone’s team seem intent on killing each other, and there is a convoluted backstory seemingly there solely to justify why there is vodka in the truck.

Armor is messy; no one seems particularly interested in being there, and it’s all rather dull with little for the viewer to buy into. In the end, apart from feeling a sense of relief, you’ll be left with the thought that surely, surely, Stallone and Patric deserve better than this.

If you wondered where the ‘Helm’ in ‘Helm’s Deep’ comes from, well, The Lord of the Rings: War of the Rohirrim can scratch that specific itch. But if you’re hankering for an animated, Middle-earth-set epic that kickstarts a line of anime adaptations of J.R.R. Tolkien’s fabulous mythos, you won’t find it here.

Helm Hammerhead (Brian Cox, invoking Logan Roy), famously stubborn King of Rohan and namesake for everyone’s favorite battle destination (Helm’s Deep), messed up. A bitter one-on-one brawl against the Dunlending leader Freca (Shaun Dooley) ends too decisively; Helm accidentally kills him with a single blow. This very bad, very public whoopsie stokes a fire that burned well before that fateful crack to the jaw; if Helm was courting conflict with the Dunlendings before, he’s hopelessly wed to it now. His dead rival’s son, the glowering Wulf (Luke Pasqualino), vows revenge, and that’s the movie. We see glimpses of Wulf’s childhood with Helm’s daughter Héra (Gaia Wise), Rohirrim‘s protagonist, but none of it coalesces into anything memorable or meaningful. Wulf’s emotions and motivations are teased but never explored, and because so much of what happens depends on us giving some form of a shit about the fallout of his actions, emotional investment is difficult.

Rohirrim turned heads when it was first announced, and for good reason. An animated epic focused exclusively on the people of Rohan, the MVPs of Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings film trilogy? The concept markets itself. Throw in the fact that prolific animator Kenji Kamiyama is directing, and you’re all but guaranteeing a blockbuster.

Unfortunately, what we end up getting is a thin revenge yarn seemingly spun without verve or any true narrative thrust, a story that, for all its built-in potential, can’t overcome its oppressive dullness. Even its battle sequences, a key selling point for many fans, leave us wanting. Kamiyama and co. blend motion capture with 2D and 3D animation, a fusion that never looks as fluid or seamless as intended.

War of the Rohirrim isn’t especially epic or immersive, and whatever interest it can coax from its audience will likely be thanks to its voice cast, who breathe vitality into underwritten characters who wouldn’t have made an impression otherwise.

There’s a fantastic Lord of the Rings anime waiting to blow our minds, but War of the Rohirrim just isn’t it.

THE LORD OF THE RINGS: WAR OF THE ROHIRRIM is in cinemas now.

Gunnar Hansen. Whether you know the name or not, you will know his most iconic role. Gunnar played the original Leatherface in Tobe Hooper’s 1974 masterpiece The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. However, there was a lot more to the man behind the mask. Michael Kallio’s Dinner with Leatherface is the perfect documentary to learn about who Gunnar really was. It’s steeped in personal stories, experiences, and footage from his friends, colleagues, and Gunnar himself. Almost a decade since his passing, this doc supplies us with a beautiful retrospective of Gunnar’s personal and professional life, looking into not just his role as Leatherface but his other performances in the indie horror industry.

This film is clearly the product of love and admiration, with Kallio dedicating eight years to its production, ensuring he does Gunnar’s legacy justice. He has achieved that and then some. He wasn’t just the man with the chainsaw, he was multifaceted and in Kallio’s own words “a walking documentary”.

Overall, Dinner With Leatherface has the rugged indie charm that we’ve loved and seen in many of Gunnar’s roles. It stays true to the roots that were initially put down when Gunnar started in the industry. You’ll come out feeling reinvigorated, passionate, and hopefully oozing in the same zest for life Gunnar had. It’ll sit as a reminder to spend time with your friends because, ultimately, life is short. Be like Gunnar, filled with ideas, stories, and true kindness.