Review Category: Movie

by HAYDEN MEARS

From the get-go, the John Wick franchise has worked hard to distinguish itself from its ilk. The first film won audiences over with a potent balance of brutal action and staggered world-building, while the second and third instalments strove to explain and expand its layered canon. Sure, the pomp and polish of its sophisticated underworld breed a great deal of dissonance (especially for viewers expecting a deeper dive into a seedier, more standard underbelly), but it’s in those “Hang on, what?” moments that director Chad Stahelski does his best work. Clandestine assassin societies haven’t been this fun in ages.

John Wick: Chapter 4 has the same MO as its predecessors: unleash Keanu upon hordes of hopelessly outmatched baddies and watch the body count climb. In many ways, though, this new entry understands its objective better than the others did. It’s absolutely the best of the bunch, even if it does occasionally feel like too much of a good thing. Its world has become a bit unwieldy, but if you can forgive seemingly pivotal characters coming and going without ceremony, you’ll have a ball.

Alright, deep breaths! There’s tons going on this go-round, and it can be tough to keep up: Winston (Ian McShane) must answer for the recent trouble at the New York Continental, while the High Table sends its scariest higher-ups out for damage control. This turns the attention to John Wick, whose fixed position at the top of the High Table’s shit list has ruffled the feathers of some very self-important psychopaths. Enter Marquis Vincent de Gramont (Bill Skarsgård), a bloodthirsty enforcer who stoops to extraordinary lows (such as forcing Donny Yen’s Caine back into service) in his crusade against John Wick.

John Wick: Chapter 4 constantly devises ways to outdo itself, a habit it shares with the long-running (and markedly inferior) Fast and Furious franchise. But Wick‘s creativity is more technical. Rather than throwing Reeves in front of a torpedo or having him drag a giant vault along South American highways, director Chad Stahelski guns for something more artful, elegant, and in tune with the specific strengths of the medium: perspective. Stahelski approaches action like a kid trying to shake up playtime; he’s just as interested in how he films as he is in what he films. The bottom line? He wants every viewer to have the best seat in the house.

But that’s not to say Chapter 4 has no sense of scale or scope. It’s just that Stahelski’s interpretation of scale – and how to increase it – runs counter to the instincts of other popular action franchises (see Fast and Furious). For Stahelski, “going bigger” doesn’t mean pitting immutable protagonists against a wrecking ball or dangling Tom Cruise out of an aeroplane. Following Wick – from a bird’s eye view – through Parisian floor plans as he guns down henchman is much more interesting to this crew, and it shows.

Now, this wouldn’t be a proper John Wick review without some mention of its worldbuilding, which somehow feels even more dialled up and dialled in here. Chapter 4 takes its mythology far more seriously than it does its action, which, rather incongruously, ends up a boon rather than a bane. The fact that the John Wick movies have never been overly serious about action is precisely why they’ve become so iconic. Hell, Ian McShane even prefaces the final confrontation with, “Just try to have fun out there.” In Assassin Land, duels to the death are treated with the same cheerful nonchalance as a game of recreational kickball.

We wouldn’t have it any other way.

JOHN WICK: CHAPTER 4 opens in cinemas on March 24th.

 

 

By James “Magic” Perkins

The water is being polluted, the fish are dying, the cows are seeing their demise – and mother is back from the dead. First-time Chilean director Francisca Alegría brings us a gorgeous and heartbreaking family drama entwined with a powerful environmental message in The Cow Who Sang A Song Into The Future.

After thousands of fish wash up dead out of a polluted river in Chile, a woman named Magdelene rises from the water after being dead for decades. Making her way back to her family, who has had to move on with their lives after her death, we see how this pivotal event has affected each of them and has caused rifts in their relationships. Her children Ceci and Bernardo still hold a semblance of a bond but are polar opposites, Ceci’s children Tomas and Alma are struggling with gender identity and adapting to a single-parent life respectively and Magdelene’s widowed Husband holds resentment against his children for his wife’s passing and tries to maintain the family dairy farm. Once Magdelene reaches her family, each of their responses to her shocking return accurately portrays the nuances of generational attitudes towards the changing world, including pollution and climate change, whilst beautifully woven with a striking and grounded narrative of loss, grief, and acceptance.

Alegria’s telling of this story is spellbinding on its own but assembled with scintillating cinematography and moments of self-reflecting for the audience, including scenes of dying cows singing a song, crying out for their calves and begrudging their harsh and unlivable lives is something that on paper seems a little too magical or supernatural to work without being gimmicky, but with her expert direction, works to incredible effect making this film one that is an absolute must-see.

The Cow Who Sang A Song Into The Future is in select UK cinemas from March 24th.

by Paul Mount

2019’s family-friendly Shazam! is often regarded as one of the better efforts generated by the messy, uneven DC Extended Universe. With James Gunn set to launch a massive reboot of DC film output in the next few years, it’s surely fair to suggest that this belated sequel – initially due to arrive in April 2022 and bumped around the release schedule innumerable times – is quite possibly the best DC film to date and might at least help sugar the pill now that the entire DC Universe is about to be born again. Bigger, brasher and a bit more brazen than its predecessor, Shazam! Fury of the Gods reminds us why we still love superhero cinema even if pacesetters Marvel are fumbling the ball more than we might be comfortable with.

Billy Batson (Angel Asher) still turns spectacularly into his colourful, child-like costumed hero, alter ego (Zachary Levi having far too much fun) when he utters the magic word ‘Shazam!’ and, accompanied by his similarly-powered foster ‘fam’, is still righting wrongs and averting disaster in and around Philadelphia. Unfortunately, Philadelphia seems to regard them as more of a nuisance and a liability even as, in one early spectacular sequence, they come to the aid of commuters stranded on a collapsing bridge. Meanwhile, the sinister Daughters of Atlas have arrived at the Acropolis Museum to steal the magic staff belonging to the wizard who gave Billy his powers in the first film. The Daughters – led by a shimmering Helen Mirren as the ice-cold Hespera and Lucy Liu as the implacable Kalypso – seek revenge against the Wizard who killed their father by taking back the powers he has gifted Billy Batson and, by association, his lively young friends.

Years of superhero films and sci-fi spectaculars have inured us to the impact of screen visuals in the modern age; there’s nothing Hollywood can’t bring to the screen nowadays thanks to the magic of CGI – yet the effects in Fury of the Gods are absolutely jaw-dropping, clearly finessed to perfection by the delay in the release date in a manner often denied to the MCU in its constant quest to churn out as much product as possible for fear of losing screen momentum. Fury of the Gods delivers set piece after set piece from battles in the air, carnage on the streets, a glowing dome dropped over the city, a monstrous dragon and any number of terrifying cyclops, centaurs and screeching winged banshees attack the city as the film races towards its conclusion. These effects are clearly intended to evoke the spirit and style of the works of the late great Ray Harryhausen, and the creatures here are more layered and textured than many of the generic horrors we usually see in these sorts of films. These beasts look four-square and real, brilliantly composited into the live action as they toss vehicles and people around the streets with merry abandon. Add to this gorgeous visual mix a nippy, witty script (it’s not quite as full of belly laughs as the original, but there are some good gags and bits of visual business here and there guaranteed to raise more than just a wry smile) and a cast clearly up for fun – Mirren especially is having a blast and newcomer Rachel Zegler impresses as Billy’s foster brother Freddy’s new high school crush. Fury of the Gods delivers a fast-paced, zesty four-colour concoction that, amongst the chaos and confusion, delivers some handy homilies on the importance of friendship, family and loyalty. A waggish mid-credits scene and a sly post-credits sequence tease a threequel that we’ll probably sadly never see in James Gunn’s brave new DC world, so make the most of Shazam in this fast and furious superior slice of superhero silliness.

Shazam: Fury of the Gods is in cinemas now.

by Joel Harley

The story of an old woman who, in 1979, would get her head run over by a gang of filmmakers shooting a porno on her property. Set in 1918, on that same farm, Pearl is the second part of Ti West’s surprise X trilogy, and follows young Pearl (Mia Goth) as she plots her escape from a life which leaves her feeling bored and unfulfilled.

Trapped on the family farm with her domineering mother (Tandi Wright) and sick father (Matthew Sunderland), Pearl longs for freedom. As a pandemic (the Spanish flu) ravages the outside world, and with her husband at war (the First World one), Pearl pins all her hopes on a dance audition at the local church. But as the cracks begin to show in Pearl’s increasingly damaged psyche, it becomes clear that she and her family are teetering on the brink of calamity.

As X leaned into the seventies setting to create an authentically grimy Texas Chain Saw Massacre homage, so West takes similar influence from 1918 America. Disposing of the grindhouse, West and cinematographer Eliot Rockett embrace full technicolour – more The Wizard of Oz than The Wizard of Gore. There’s even a scarecrow and everything.

This slower, more character-focused prequel tracks Pearl’s gradual descent into madness, putting star Mia Goth (who also had a hand in writing the script) front and centre. And, as Pearl, Goth gives not just the horror performance of the year, but also a serious contender for the performance of the year – driving the point home with an astounding nine-minute monologue, just to show off.

This could have been a cheap and easy tie-in movie, designed to take advantage of X’s leftover sets. However, what emerges is a bleak yet colourful character study which enriches and gives texture to the world of X (Pearl’s encounter with Brittany Snow’s blonde bombshell Bobby-Lynne hits differently now). Themes of fading youth and a wasted life come to the fore again, made even sadder with the knowledge that we know how Pearl’s story really ends.

PEARL opens in UK cinemas on March 17th

By Joel Harley

If you go down to the woods today, you’re sure of a big surprise… murderous versions of Winnie-the-Pooh and his anthropomorphic chums, having spurned humanity when their beloved Christopher Robin (Nikolai Leon) abandoned them for college.

This low-budget British slasher film transforms A. A. Milne’s 100 Acre Wood into a cross between the forest of a Wrong Turn and the island of Doctor Moreau. Under director Rhys Frake-Waterfield, Pooh Bear becomes a hybrid of Leatherface and Phil Mitchell, stomping about the woods in dungarees and a lumberjack shirt. Piglet, a screeching monster with dirty great antlers and a thing for chains. The other furry friends, presumably, are being saved for the sequel – just don’t ask what happened to Eeyore.

Following a promising opening (which includes some delightfully scratchy animation), the film gets on with setting up the splatter. On the outskirts of 100 Acre Wood, a group of young women move into the local Airbnb, hoping to help pal Maria (Maria Taylor) move past her stalker trauma. As it happens, they succeed – after a creepy flashback sequence, it’s barely acknowledged again. There’s a refreshing lack of meandering as the animals get down to business, serving up all of the creative violence (including unfortunate CGI blood) that audiences might have hoped for from a Winnie-the-Pooh horror film.

We knew about the bear’s love of hunny and the big yellow belly, but A. A. Milne and Pooh’s handlers at Disney hadn’t warned us about his proficiency at throwing hands – culminating in a sequence in which Winnie-the-Pooh karate chops a guy’s arm off. While Pooh never feels more than a man in a rubber mask, he’s an effective monster – spitting swarms of bees like Candyman (!), drooling a rictus smile as he stalks the 100 Acre Wood.

Even less expected is the film’s grossly misogynistic bent – a theme which starts with a girl’s clothes just falling off as she fights Winnie-the-Pooh – accelerates with the grotesque stalker flashback – then truly commits to the bit with a bikini hogtie (or Piglet-tie, as it were). Pooh and Piglet may have turned their back on mankind, but it’s women they really hate.

The rest of its issues can be forgiven, attributed to the pitfalls of independent filmmaking. From the murky cinematography to the stuffy performances and could-have-used-a-polish script, it’s fairly typical low-budget horror, given an edge with its fast pace, short runtime, and attention-grabbing monsters.

This pooh stinks, sure, but it’s not without its charm, finding frustrating moments of wit and levity amidst the punishing cynicism. After all, it’s hard to entirely dismiss a film where a guy calls Winnie-the-Pooh a nonce. Blood and Honey is intermittently entertaining when not indulging in its worst impulses – a lurid, nihilistic perversion of a beloved childhood character. Oh, bother.

Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey is in cinemas now.