Reviews

You've made a choice and travelled far to join a convent, in Italy you'll let your faith take ferment, what could possibly go wrong, amongst the hymns and happy song, and then you find yourself distressed, and with some torment. As the life among the cloisters is quite strange, and there's those who seem disturbed, upset, deranged - then you find a bun in t'oven, are you living in a coven, is this Suspiria with Rosemary in range. Events move on and you've become a surrogate, and there's a chance your child may be born from the goat (might even be one), but at least your lovely figure, in wet smock you then deliver, it's a film that sinks, subsides - and does not float.

Now here's a film that begins with potential, with threats from a man that they call presidential, as a nation in tatters tears itself apart, searching for its soul, for its spirit, its heart. To capture the mood of this country at war, the press take a trip and discover much more, but the framing's distracting and so is plot, and what it delivers is just not a lot. It seems like the inmates are running the show, the landscape is formed by nutters and psychos, open season on those who decide to trespass, from the folks who'd promote chambers filled up with gas. The result is a film that's full of negatives, where the people who're shuttered are all combative, where photographer focus is distorted and blurred, and what could have been great, is completely absurd.

You've seen it all before so many times, the disenfranchised as a phoenix from the flames, having witnessed the destruction, some years later there's eruption, spewing anger and revenge, against past crimes. There's all the violence you'd expect from such a flick, although it's child's play compared to Mr. Wick, so I'd suggest you take a look, the trilogy of Park Chan-wook, a set of films that have a far more reaching kick. Although the politics may just catch your attention, quite simple but it gives some comprehension, as it jabs at real world themes, at a nationalist machine, that ignores freedoms and rights, with great dissension.

It's a world in which you feel quite undervalued, finding stories for a late night slot can elude, a small child to raise as well, life is like a carousel, until a chance too good to miss, is then pursued. As naivety is handed on a plate, with a head, a reputation, is this fate - some persuasion to the prey, as the hook goes down airway, with the trap of Emily, layered down as bait. Next the clown enters stage left puts foot in mouth, as the flames start to engulf - they can't be doused, leaves us all without illusion, there can be just one conclusion, that we're witnessing, a very, regal, louse.

Your profession could be considered mercenary, it's not the kind of job to make you very merry, but as the years have added up, running over is not your cup, the effect is that there's gaps, in your memory. It's not the time to fight a crisis but your son, estranged and needing help for what he's done, turns to you in hour of need, after a rather hasty deed, although your senses are impaired, you must go on. So you enlist help and support from a close fiend, but you're not sure if things are real or if they're dreamed, then with some instinct and some guile, you accept your senile trial, it takes a while for those close by, to comprehend.

As heart wrenching a film as you're ever likely to see; you will be overwhelmed with disbelief that in the 21st Century the sights and sounds captured by Mstyslav Chernov's camera and microphone can actually take place; that innocent children, women and men can be forced to endure such torment and turmoil, by an aggressor who has no concern for the rules of engagement during times of conflict, and is clearly targeting the most vulnerable citizens of a city that's been battered and beaten continually by munitions of destruction, where even the hospitals are open season for razing. Not long ago it was Syria, For Sama, and there is a common denominator.

You've shown that you're a hero and relocated, to the frontier is where you've aggregated, living life right at the edge, an indigenous folks ledge, although colleagues that went before, have all migrated. It's a challenge to adapt to isolation, in this place that Europeans will make new nation, as the water has a twang, from the beasts within that hang, you work hard to settle down, and form foundations. It's not too long before you interact with locals, as luck would have it one of them can speak your vocals, a relationship is formed, and then the men all uniformed, do their best to suffocate, just like all numbskulls.

You're a rather violent, vicious repeat offender, who along with friends gets off on lawless benders, causing mayhem and chaos, making lots of people cross, though you relish the rewards, enjoy the splendour. Alas the chickens have come home to rest and roost, and a spell behind some bars is introduced, as a punishment for slaying, for many years you will be paying, although reforms may have your penalty reduced. Volunteering for a way to change behaviour, sees results that may just make you a great saviour, but are your seeds more firmly rooted, can you be reconstituted, with your traits entombed, unable to transfer.

An opportunity presents that can't be ignored, to escape from a world that's been making you bored, with dollars galore you ride out of town, pestered by a copper, who keeps hanging around; you seek to find shelter, somewhere to hide, the motel of Bates is the one that you've spied, there's a curious fella who's friendly, polite - you pay him for a room, and will stay for a night; after saying goodnight you retire to room, then into the bath for a showery flume, but before you're all clean you get into a lather, as the curtain is shred, by a bit of a slasher.

Still a wonderful piece of filmmaking all these years later.

There's a mystery as to why you have been slaughtered, two barrels at close range has left lots of blood, and removed a lot of skin, at your doorsteps where you fin, there must have been an awful mess, and a great thud. Now a detective's on the case and wants to know, was it Shelby who unleashed the mortal blow, will he divulge, confide, confess - why he made the awful mess, by releasing buckshot used, as gun ammo. Lydecker first name Waldo takes interest, he was a friend who Laura would have called her best, like a dog who has a bone, he will not leave unturned a stone, although he seems to be immersed, absorbed, obsessed.

There's a franchise you might imagine has run its course, but you may be quite surprised that this has force, alongside ghosts there comes a god, he has a somewhat ravaged bod, and his voice is rather husky, rasping, hoarse. He's been caged inside a sphere for many years, he needs some words to be spoken and then appears, rather cold when he presents, a room with ice he then segments, it can pen those who are close, with frozen spears. But there's depth to those who fight to save the world, some are fresh and young but others are quite knurled, they come together to defy, to confront this ancient guy, to ensure that he's contained, dispatched and furled.

From where they came, nobody knows, but now they're here, and as you'd guess the world is rife with dread and fear, but there's one thing they all agree, communication is the key, and that's exactly at the centre of, your sphere. So you're lucky when the army comes a calling, it's not too long before your upward bound and falling, where you find two heptapods, who could give you quite a prod, it's engaging, thrilling, scary and enthralling. Alas, the story is too good to give away, after barriers of words and shapes have played, often cryptic, intertwined - complex, deep, just as designed, a piece of cinema that has come, from the top grade.

It's been some years since Tony's flame was extinguished, his career just not to be that distinguished, you've moved on and settled down, like majorettes whose skin's a gown, though his new novel, looks to be, not one to miss. As the story links reality to fiction, the life you've lived is reimagined with conviction, certain parallels replayed, around a man you had betrayed, it's a clever reworking, vivid depiction. As leaves turn you're left without any illusion, of the cathartic pleasure of the retribution, of the years of hurt and rage, that's inked their way across the page, in a wonderfully performed, and fraught effusion.

Earl Janoth is the head guy on the mag, although the sales are disappointing and he's mad, but you pull out all the stops, to get more copy into shops, then off on honeymoon, and then there is a snag. As Pauline finds herself struck down by time, by a piece that might be green but might be lime, there's a plot to misdirect, to find an innocent suspect, and nail someone else, for heinous crime. Suffice to say there's lots of cunning and there's lies, before the killer is revealed and someone dies, it's a film that's of its time, from my perspective this is fine, it's worth a viewing, or a screening, I'd advise.

An evening's dancing in the woods catches attention, Reverend Parris has to make an intervention, as young girls are all dishevelled, subjects raptured and bedevilled, although confessions may just lead to their redemption. But the ball begins to roll and can't be stopped, within this crucible of faith doors are unlocked, aspersions, defamation, no evidence, or firm foundations, as the innocent are harvested and cropped. A chance to be redeemed is offered up, John Proctor takes the pen, signature put, alas defeat is soon retaken, the next day he'll not awaken, he's the devil incarnate, it's quite clear-cut.

There's a lass who's just moved in, and takes a shine, to your body and treats you like you're a shrine, very keen to satisfy, next to you or on she'll lie, best described as something very not benign. It's not too long before it's clear you're an obsession, physical acts start to include much more aggression, a little kinky to begin, it leads to knots of tightening, she has the right to use her knife, at her discretion. Before you know it things have gone a touch awry, and if you had the opportunity you'd cry, with tears in your eyes, nothing to thread between your fly, in a film that's quite tricky, to classify.

If you're looking for a film that's made of brilliance, that requires persistence and some resilience, that's often quite obscure, and has periods of chore, but is generally engaging, and punctilious. Packed with stars from round the world the cast is great, although old Walken may just get you vexed and grate, as will the nonsense words recited, Florence Pugh don't look delighted, and Stellan Skarsgård must have loved to post deflate. Although the worms are truly fantastic creations, if you've had them as a child they'd recall sensations, but these are really big, and would cause more than a jig, all in all it failed to meet, my expectations.

There are occasions when you need to take a chance, as in the midst you have got boils you need to lance, so an egg is laid to hatch, in the hope that you might catch, and reduce the enemies, inside advance. Inhospitable is the place you chase your quarry, taking down the foe that waits is mandatory, as you scale the Schloß Adler, often needing a grappler, meting out your punishments, with rage and fury. To escape you need to plough a pacey furrow, avoiding rounds of who knows what and to be thorough, a return will take you home, like a dog who's got his bone, leaving one who's last recourse, is to un-stow.

It's fair to say you're quite a regimented man, often intransigent, but you have a detailed plan, how to keep soldiers engaged, avoiding idleness and rage, on this occasion, it's a river that you'll span. Although the circumstances seem to be all wrong, for you to band all of your men into a throng, and get them building for the foe, wagers of war won't let you go, it might be questioned where allegiances belong. So just imagine you're surprise upon completion, when endeavours undertaken find deletion, and your world cascades and falls, as detonation trips and calls, and you wish instead of wood, you used concretion.

Now here's a Rom-Con that is awful and wrong, as a pair prance around among a contriving throng, where the carrot is dangled and the flesh is exposed, and curvaceous beauties dispose of their clothes; the script is inept and the dialogue's quite poor, I'd say after not long you'll find this such a chore, your eyes will soon shut and your body repose, a snore may be heard from nostrils of your nose; there's nothing to see and there's little it brings, though a lass wears her fella's exposed outer ring (ooh!), with trajectory's set to go all the way down, but at least you'll find out, what has happened to Brown (Brian - hasn't aged a day since Skippy).

It's like the regurgitated mess you often find outside nightclubs on a Sunday morning - but a little less appetising.

After watching many trailers this looked great, something to make you laugh out loud and advocate, some big names for gravitas, gave this film a look of class, as the lights went down - I'm primed to captivate. Alas it wasn't quite as funny as I'd hoped, you need much more than sweary language to make jokes, rather shallow without depth, and a somewhat narrow breadth, I'm afraid that my conclusion was it choked. So it seems as if promotions have deceived, and I left as titles rolled a little peeved, the performances are fine, but the chuckles aren't refined, though if profanity's your thing, you might be pleased.

You have an anger, frenzy, torture that consumes, from every orifice a poison floods then flumes, overwhelming, uncontained - all your pasts ingrained and chained, the smallest spark enough to ignite, raging fumes. An encounter with a lost and lonely soul, you start to gain some self-constraint, take back control, she presents as being normal, soon find out she has turmoil, a reflection of your broken, distressed whole. Time is found to help this woman in distress, though you're too late for a young lad who's been regressed, events take consequences, in a world that's lost its senses, this is a bleak and soul destroying, dark abyss.

Out of this world performances.

As a child you overwhelmingly annoy, completely irksome the most irritating boy, poor old Baines must entertain, while trying to break from the chain, and make off with lover Julie, for some joy. But events occur and you see things unfold, then you promise to keep secret what you're told, causes you to get Tourette's, and then become almighty pest, as the cops arrive, it's hard to be consoled. The web that's spun then catches hold and yarns unwind, constabulary find a way to not be blind, you increase in irritation, continuous without cessation, I'm sure your parents will ensure, you are confined.

Ever so slightly dated, with language that defines the era, although Ralph Richardson is great as the stereotypical British tongue biting bloke.

Not quite as good as you'd hope.

It's fair to say you are a Captain disciplined, and you like to see subordinates lose skin, the cat o' nine tails is a smash, as they're beaten, whipped and slashed, filling your sails with such an overwhelming wind. If all else fails you go the distance and keelhaul, dragging the guilty of just what on a long trawl, prevents the crew from going soft, like rotten food they have to scoff, although you never hear the sounds, of their death squall. Although this time it seems you've pushed the boat too far, Fletcher Christian takes his chance to fight and spar, your ejected and cast-off, mutinous rabble will pay the cost, as you're left to drift for weeks, under the stars.

Brando's accent - what's that all about.

Now here's something of a conundrum, a film that you will find extremely humdrum, as dull as you can think, not only that it really sinks, how on earth did the Academy succumb (to nominating such disconnected twaddle). The acting is awful and the script is so poor, the story is daft and an absolute chore, your eyes will soon close, recline and repose, it won't be too long before a snooze and a snore. You can only blame the writing and direction (un-coincidentally the same), more accomplished personnel would make corrections, to add some sense and flow, to engage and then bestow, instead of leaving us, the opposite of, perfection.

Awful throughout.