Reviews

The worst kind of person (a streamer) is en route to celebrate 10 years of streaming. He's brought along the worst entourage of failed athletes, coattail clinger ons and a girlfriend more bland than plain flour to do something extreme.

An escape room. Omg

But the escape room is in Russia and has been set up by a stranger who one of the groupies kind of knows but not really. Before you can say "power drill to the face" corpses are being violated and american tourists are being sliced to pieces by mysterious Russians.

What follows is a predictable jaunt through set-up (intimidating men in a bar offering ominous platitudes? Check. An omnipotent stranger charming everyone? Check. A nervous local who keeps not not dropping hints they're in danger? Check!) before reaching the reason we're all apparently here: torture porn mixed with escape room puzzles. Well, sort of. The puzzles are as simple as breaking locks and putting cogs in holes. The torture porn obscured every step of the way.

It tries to salvage itself with a cry_wolf twist but unlike that semi-decent attempt 15 years previously, there's no fun dénouement. It's just a very stupid twist with insanely contrived flashbacks.

While the camera work is very well done, the script, cast and story fail completely. The close ups and dizzying cuts especially in the escape room scenes are great fun. The editing is also solid. But the films main story is butchered trying to reach a conclusion never earned that any goodwill is immediately lost once the escape rooms are vacated. The main streamer is an incompetent fool who gets the viewer fully against him. This would be fine if the point was to punish him, but the film works hard to keep us on his side that it's not fun. It's just painful spending this time with him and his awful friends, and they're all so swiftly dispatched in the second act it's hard to feel anything besides ambivalence. Hostel worked well by pivoting on one insanely grotesque scene of torture that befalls a complicated and interesting hero. Escape Room, while having a predictable story, has a main character with trauma worth investigating and is rooting for. Here we have the worst human whose only shades are revealed by his dreary girlfriend. Our only other company is his friends who'd apparently rather help each other suffer than get out of a troubling situation. Even the end never manages to absolve them.

Honestly, avoid this. It's teen horror for a cynical and depressed generation.

Nic Cage killing demonic animatronics in an abandoned family party restaurant?

My first thought was "Sign me up!"

So it's rather disappointing that so much of the action, probably the fault of a low budget, is carried out in darkness, with herky jerky camera work and a jarring soundtrack.

Clearly, Cage just wanted to get the film made, having all of three lines, and spending every moment that he's not murdering demon puppets playing pinball and drinking beer. There's not much of a character here, not even an interesting mystery. The case of the puppets is told to us over two flashbacks with no interesting shifts in narrative or perspective. Thankfully, Beth Grant is here to offer a fun caustic matron sheriff intent on keeping the status quo.

I can't even recommend it for the carnage as it's mostly hidden away by dark, colourless lighting. But if Nic Cage smashing up a Weasel with a bag of rocks is your kink, dive on in!

The Sadness arrived on a wave of critics calling it "gory" "visceral" and "hell on Earth." These adjectives and metaphors are not unwarranted.

Director Rob Jabbaz has, with a modest budget, created the most shocking and disturbing zombie/virus/man gone bad experience in recent years. It's also a fast paced, exhiliarating ride through the beginning of a pandemic as you follow young couple Jim and Kat, trying to reconnect during the fallout.

The layers of violence and just absolute horror Jabbaz inflicts on his cast of extras and unnamed parts is, quite frankly, appalling to watch. Every scene contains at least one moment of sadism so extreme, even the Marquis would be saying "let's take a step back." Then Jabbaz tops it not seconds later (You thought the girl being raped in her wound was bad? Wait 'til she's taking a circular saw to a man's crotch moments after).

Sadly, Jabbaz shows a greeness in his filming and story narrative style. Contrasted with other films of this ilk (28 Days Later or Train to Busan, for example), the adrenaline pumping visuals and fast pased camera work is lagging, with Jabbaz preferring to slow down repeatedly to enjoy the horrors man can think to inflict on one another. Unfortunately, he doesn't manage, with a sense of style, to convey the nihilism or bleakness inherent in this environment (although he clearly has a twisted humour that I applaud, brought brazenly to life with an excellent PSA from the ill-fortunate president).

If you're a gorehound you're gonna love it. If you're expecting another break out hit like "Train to Busan," you may be disappointed.

"Old," Shyamalan's newest twisty thriller, based on the comic "Sandcastle" shows Shyamalan still has some tricks in his bag.

When Gai and Priska take their precocious children on a beach retreat, they are wowed by the high quality service of the resort. Along with a few other guests, they all venture to a secluded beach that is of insane beauty. Strangely, though, it's not an hour later and the oldest member is dead, and the children have begun growing out of their beachwear.

As the frightened strangers try to make sense of their predicament, the various illnesses, disabilities and hereditary problems of each quickly begin knocking them down, far faster than should be possible. With no way off the beach, they must race against the aging process to find a way back to safety, if there is one.

Shyamalan does great work on a tight budget here. Relying on sound effects and still camera work, Shyamalan prefers not to show the gore and horror, letting the characters' reactions tell us the story. In fact, I don't think since "The Village" has Shyamalan managed to craft such an effective character drama. Each inevitible demise is grounded in story and character work, with every member of the cast giving their best to portray the absolute madness of the situation these families and friends find themselves in. The younger cast, especially, have to balance an incredibly tricky task of being pre-pubescent children who've entered their late teens in just two hours.

Sometimes harrowing, sometimes horrifying (the fate of one calcium deficient beauty model is a nice call back to Shymalan's horror roots), often pressing, "Old" manages to keep the story alive, even as the cast dwindles at an increasingly speedy rate. It's also a great feat of storytelling that, after the twist is revealed in the first act, Shyamalan and his team keep the plot compelling as the characters' individual fates befall them.

Ultimately, this is a simple story, with a sad, banal reveal at the end as to why it's happening. Even if the final moments are more wish fulfilment for its survivors than the believable ending of this specific story, it wraps up satisfyingly after a dark hour and a half spent on a beautiful coast line.

When Alexia causes her father to crash the family car, she ends up with a titanium steel plate in her head, and an unhealthy love for metal. All that love that should be given to her family, she transfers to the vehicles she dances with 30 years later as a gogo dancer, and when an obsessed fan goes too far, she finds even more love for metal.

Titane, Julie Ducournau's latest thriller is one so unaplogetically grotesque, it forces viewers to find sympathy for a disgustingly misshapen and broken person. As Alexia's passion for aggression and sex reaches a climax early on, Ducournau's lens frames every sweaty, painful moment with lusty angles and close-ups, tinted with gorgeous golden hues and warm pinks.

Sideswiping the audience, Alexia's journey to connection with another broken person takes her into the obsessed arms of a grieving, aging father (Vincint). It is here that the film's lust for love and life are fully explored, critiquing what masculinity looks like in a modern society. Will these two pathetic forces survive each other and find meaning again? Or are they doomed to destroy what's left? Fascinating questions arise in a story that never once slows down, gets too complicated nor predictable. Alexia and Vincint's relationship is a remarkable feat of storytellling that elicits feelings of revulsion and sympathy (Alexia is hiding her identity and pregnancy as the long lost son of Vincint, and Vincint can't quite keep his hands off him in ways a father shouldn't touch their son). Both replusive, both sympathetic, the movie barrels towards a humanely sad yet restorative climax for the two.

If you like heaps of body horror, tons of graphic violence and a smattering of sex, you're gonna love Titane. Beautiful, uncaring, bold, like the metal messing with Alexia's mind.

"All of Us Are Dead" marks the latest high-budget Korean release from Netflix, fighting for room in a genre already groaning from the weight of the likes of "Kingdom," "Squid Game" and "Hellbound."

Posh Hyosan High School and its affluent pupils think it's going to be just another day of working towards tests and surviving the bullies, deadlines and awfulness of puberty that high school crams daily into 7 hours. But then one student comes stumbling in, claiming a teacher abducted her, and before lunch is over, the entire school, save for a handful of stragglers, will either be dead or dying.

Netflix's show sets up its premise well. The premier, having to do a hell of a lot of world building, manages to establish key characters and relationships without too much exposition, and finds some potential drama and tension it can explode apart later. Then the promise is fulfilled in episode 2, which begins with an absolute massacre in the school cafeteria as the confusion and fear of what is happening mixes with more blood than a Wes Craven film. Beautifully shot and well executed, it never lets the gas off the pedal.

Sadly, the show then begins to fall under the weight of what it wants to do, and what it needs to do. We get four main threads to follow involving politicians and rescue services, a good natured police officer, and two main groups at the school. That's not including the parents, other surviving school students or faculty, or secret services that need paid attention to, also. By episode 5, there's so much going on (and so many barriers to any progress) that the momentum stalls and the show, despite the numerous chase scenes, resembles a dog chasing its tail.

Further, the characters are just horrible. Not badly written, no, but evil, inconsiderate monsters. One may forgive them on account that they're young, privileged and facing a fantastical problem, but even resident bully, Gwi-Nam, is just one of many monsters wearing people faces. It gets tiring to see the students sabotage and ruin one anothers' chances over and over again. Redemption is a banned word in this universe, and Neitzche would likely baulk at the pessimism on display.

Lastly, the zombie virus is just too complicate to understand. In this world, some people don't fully turn, allowing them to develop super powers while maintaining their identities. I don't understand how a virus can increase strength and speed without boosting muscle mass, but here we've got kids going at each other like a Rita Repulsa monster smacking down the Power Rangers. Who gets this mutated virus is also arbitrary, with only three people getting this lucky dose (and obviously each is integral to the story).

Still, when all is said and done, there's some great fun to be had here. The first four episodes alone are worth catching, and as the kids' relationships take center stage in the middle, the cast prove proficient at being good dramatic actors. Even as it lags, there's no denying it's a treat to watch, with scenes of destruction exploding into zombie herds chasing down unlucky survivors. The tension, as threads are cut, snaps in a very satisying way. But, in the end, it's five episodes too long, and plays the same cards too often to be as successful as, say "Kingdom."

When the Mayor of Gotham is brutally killed and the Batman is named at the crimescene, it sets off a chain of events that proceed to pull apart the fragile infrastructure that keeps both the city of Gotham and the Batman upright.

Thankfully, Matt Reeves isn't interested in "rebooting" the Batman's story, instead opting to explore the darker crevices of the masked crusader/detective's mind and impulses. Two years into the game (as told by Robert Pattinson in VO) sees petty criminals stain their britches whenever that light comes on above the city of Gotham and start running from the shadows, into the bright city lights. Sadly, crime is up and Batman isn't sure if he's making a positive difference (other than boosting cleaning services for whites). By the end of this near-on 3 hour epic noir, he'll have something that resembles an answer.

Notable rogues swirl around the maelstrom Batman creates as he searches for Riddler. Colin Farrell, Zoe Kravitz and John Turturro are each unrecognisable in their roles. Paul Dano is Paul Dano at his most Paul Danoist. Penguin, Catwoman, Carmine Falcone and Maroni are all accounted for, each taking on the sort of role you'd expect in a noir genre film (the unseen kingpin, the power hungry dog, the vengeful femme fatale and the oft referenced maguffin). Riddler seems to be in another film altogether, playing the role of Jigsaw, John Doe and any number of SNS incels who are seconds from inciting mass murder as acts of terrorism. Bruce Wayne may also be an incel here, with all the charm of a broken table and the social skills that match. Lines between the Riddler and the Batman are deliciously blurred as they both indulge in similar voyeuristic tendencies, taking their victims in similar manners and doing everything they can do to stay hidden, while also seeking infamy.

The set is glorious and detailed. Gotham resembles a timeless city and, yet, at the same time, a gothic art deco nightmare. Dingy club scenes cut to glamorous sitting rooms. Wayne Tower melts from cavernous hellhole to claustraphobic luxury and tradition. Among it all, crime scenes menace and shadows spread out over pale, sick streetlights. Brief respites of light as the sun rises or sets over Gotham give the film a boost of romance before Batman once again dives off the roofs of buildings and stalks tunnels.

But, damn it's dark. It's so dark you can imagine the designer who painstakingly built this beautiful horror of a city fuming that none of the detail is seen for long. Reeves trains his camera to linger on Pattinson and the score, at times excellent, betrays a level of self-importance that, honestly, the subject matter doesn't deserve. Superheroes, and men running around in capes, should never be treated as anything other than the camp escapism they offer from the world, and, unfortunately, too often The Batman puffs out his chest and declares his legitimacy undeservingly. As the film nears the ending, the fatigue of seeing what is nothing more than a bombastic take on Se7en crawl to the 3 hour mark proves too much and I imagine a lot of audiences will be squirming impatiently for the credits to roll. Sadly, we've got numerous monologues and references to potential sequels to listen to, first.

Still, it's never not fun to see Batman roll up to the club and beat up a pair of twins who have the same MO everytime the door opens. It's always a good time to see The Batman get nuts and growl. It's always exciting to see Catwoman weigh her options to put the hurt on the Bat or sleep with him. And whenever that Batmobile roars through a firey pile up in pursuit of a maniac, it's hard, even after countless iterations, not to be giddy about the hurt coming to whichever criminal thought they could outrun him.

Too many tricks, not enough treats, and nowhere near enough light (both figurative and literal) for this Halloween outing for Batman, though, prevents it reaching the heights of Batman Returns or The Dark Knight. But as an antidote to the Marvel mill that continues to push the same story in different clothes (you can practically hear Disney yell "Representation!" with every retelling of Iron Man), seeing Batman choose to help citizens rather than get the bad guy in the hopes of bettering a broken city is a refreshing angle and one I wouldn't mind finding out the answer to.

"One of Us is Lying" is your typical mid-week teen soap opera dressed up as a murder mystery. When one nefarious teen is impossibly killed during detention, the four students present (each harboring secrets and a motive to murder him) form a fragile bond as they work to unearth who did it and why before they find themselves in jail, or worse.

Along the way, soap elements are drip fed to us, as the "Bayview four" leak their secrets, or lie about them, in efforts to protect themselves. We get the usual good girl gone bad, bad girl going good, drug peddling outcast turning leading man and popular jock with a murky history that may or may not include homosexuality, drug use and violence. You could throw a dart at a wall of tropes, and I bet that's how they chose which character had which personality traits.

Thankfully, to prevent the whole thing being a snoozefest, the producers found an excellent cast of 20-somethings who look 20 something to play high school students. Despite the fact not a single one looks like they've been inside a school for at least 6 years, they are all wonderfully played off of each other, and are at their best when they're working together or fighting over the latest bit of sabotage. The chemistry between Addy, Bronwyn, Cooper and Nate is electric and is more than enough to keep you watching. Add in a strong supporting cast who each muddy these bayview waters and you've got a surprisingly not bad teen thriller from Netflix.

Sadly, the murder victim, despite getting screentime throughout the run of the show, doesn't get the proper treatment. His death, which should have some emotional resonance (if not with the "Bayview Four" who he was days from ruining before his untimely death) with at least a few of the side characters who were deeply involved in his machinations, is completely lacking. There is no real pay off to the main thread that ties the cast together, but with any luck, a second season should up the camp factor and bring more trouble to these impossibly good looking, 20 somethings. It might even be worth watching!

A decade after Dimension failed to re-launch Scream (or Kevin Williamson did his best to murder the franchise with a cynical, spiteful observation of the youth of the new century, which I actually thought was genius), Radio Silence have picked it up and given it "The Force Awakens" treatment. A fan pleasing, well oiled bit of movie nostalgia that aims to create the opportunities for more sequels while keeping the elder Gods under the Cabin in the Woods happy.

Sadly, the movie decides some witty wordplay and emotional reunions of a returning legacy cast is enough for one film, forgetting that the joy of Scream was the ridiculous of teens being aware of horror movies, while falling prey to the same conventions they openly mocked. One character's death is so loudly broadcast when she's seen ordering sushi alone, having had but one line previously, it's a wonder she didn't just look up and say "what's with the cameras in my kitchen? Are you filming this? Am I about to die?" Like, yes, you are, that's how little thought the writers put into you. This isn't a bait-and-switch like Randy or Olivia or even Tom before, this is just lazy writing.

Thankfully, the writers aren't the stars here, and the cast all put in excellent work. Mindy is a perfect Randy relative: she's knowledgeable, bright, and really, really annoying at times, like he was. Tara, the film's opening victim gets more sympathy from the audience than I think even Casey Becker did, as she fights, slips, crawls and screams for her life. Richie is loveable, dorky and a great audience surrogate, dragged to Woodsboro by his traumatised girlfriend, Sam, and dropped in the middle of a dangerous family drama.

Then, of course, there are the returning legacy characters. Each get an epic reintroduction (Dewey's new way of life being the biggest shock) and a moment to remind the audience just why they have endured. Their inclusion in the final act is well done: neither the focus, nor forgotten about, they add 25 years of flavour to an otherwise already excellent confrontation.

And what a third act it is. Unlike the rather perfunctory set up in acts one and two, act three begins with a swift murder then a 20 minute fight as Sid, Gale and Sam try to figure out just who is killing who and who can or cannot be trusted. Billy told Sid, 25 years ago, not to blame the movies, but in 2022, the movies are very much to blame (albeit for different reasons). It's a riot of blood, violence, jokes and comeuppance.

Overall, this is not a bad movie, but it is a bad Scream film. The writers spend too long talking about "other" movies, instead of doing something new. Death scenes are telegraphed simply (remember when Kenny and Sid watched the monitor, not realising Ghostface had already chased them down? Or the numerous fake outs of Cici alone in the sorority house before we see Ghostface slip in through an open door? Nothing that creative is here). Instead, we have a very simple installment, with a great sense of humour and a very good cast. Here's hoping they can build on it for the inevitable re-re-quel.

Who remembers the Banana Splits? Tra-la-la la-lalala-la...That song was childhood for a great deal of us. Kudos, then, to the producers turning an admittedly lame parody of The Monkees (and probably an early progenitor for The Furries) into something kind of fresh, kind of lame, kind of fun and very gory, forty years after the show ended.

In this alternate reality where the show never ended, Harley and his family are attending a taping of The Banana Splits for his birthday. His older brother is a surly burnout, his father a neglectful adulterer and his mum a timid flake. With him is a school friend, not a real friend, Zoe, who's there because her mum forced her. A happy family this is not. Thankfully, along with a variety of victims, harley and his family are going to get the chance to bond and repair their relationships, if only they don't get murdered by the psychotic animatronics.

Overall, the cast is not capable of blending the comedy with the surreal horror of Drooper, Snorky, Bingo and Fleegel going on a murder rampage. Maria Nash, playing Zoe, fares the best as the sardonic and confident co-pilot through a world she left behind years ago. Sara Canning, as the long-suffering show producer manages to elicit some sympathy when she's dragged into the mayhem. Naledi Majoli as an audience manager doing her best is easy to like and cheer for. Dana Kind, as the fretful mum turned bad ass does enough to be believable, but the rest of the cast all seem to be in different productions.

Shout out to the special effects crew who appear to do most of it without resorting to CGI. The Banana Splits enjoy a spot of violent murder and the gleeful squirms as they treat spines like a lock to a key, or heads like giant buttons to be mashed will elicit cheers and groans of disgust from the audience. The set details, as well, as we move from each of the Splits' iconic sets adds a great bit of variety to the warehouse lot. It all climaxes wonderfully in a private showing of the Splits' final show ever, complete with violent murder and goofy gags.

This is a brave attempt at bringing something long forgotten and now completely unknown to a new generation. While it's not entirely successful (the sound design doesn't sync with either the camp lameness or the brutal horror and the editing struggles to be smooth, owing in part to using animatronics), it does a decent job of reimagining a childhood favourite for a new audience. That in itself is comendable. One for gore hounds and those on nostalgia trips!

It's just perfectly fine. It'll get you buzzed for a moment, but it's a predictable as the day-old orange spice combo.

Nina Debrov is charming as the career girl looking for love. Jimmy O Yang is miscast as a romantic lead, but his comedy chops provide enough laughs and charm throughout the runtime. Surprisingly, they have some chemistry, and their journey to accepting who they are and want they want in a relationship built on lies is very cute. The supporting cast inluding Harry Shum Jr, James Saito and Matty Finochio play their roles in ruining and complicating the online love birds' future well.

There's at least one stand out comedy moment (a karaoke flirt to "Anything for Love (Not that)" turns into a recreation of the music video when hapless Natalie takes a shot of something she's allergic to, but overall, the film is light on sight gags. The dialogue has some witty moments and Harry Shum goes full slapstick as the absolute cretin older brother to Jimmy's Josh. Still, the plot is less credible than that of Die Hard and Love Actually combined (now that's a film I'd watch - 10 interconnected love stories happening in a tower christmas party as German criminals and one happy go lucky barefoot cop fight it out? Yes, please). McG's films are often childish and dumb and this is no different, but it does manage to carry some charm and wit til the end, thanks in part to Nina's performance.

As one of the hundred new Christmas titles Netflix just vomited out, it's definitely a notch above the rest. Still, that's not a high bar to pass.

Nozaki is a recent transfer at a junior high school in rural Japan. Most the other students are indifferent towards her, but some are beyond cruel. After her parents convince her to stay away from school until graduation, the bullies (Taeko, Rumi, Hide, Tsutomo, Risa and Kyoko) decide to ramp up their efforts and burn her house down, killing her family and gravely injuring her baby sister. Nozaki returns in silence some time after to exact revenge on all those who crossed her.

This is a by the numbers revenge thriller, similar to Kevin Bacon's "Death Sentence" or even "Leon," if Natalie Portman had been both Mathilda and Leon. Sadly, the plot has very little beyond watching the worst children ever be bloodily murdered. It does give us a little extra in seeing how most of the children live with their families, hinting at story that would have been explored more fully in the manga, but most of it is predictable (head bully Taeko has a rich but neglectful parent, the most violent female has an abusive alcoholic father, the crazy one has a nice, useless mum). In a moment of humour, the parents arrive at the school to harass the homeroom teacher, each day more and more of them appearing as more of their children disappear, all culminatin in one of the more bizarre deaths of the film.

The major fault, though, is the cinematography. Typical of Japan, the palettes and styling are all very clean and lovely to look at (blood on snow always is a winner, and Nozaki's red pea coat beneath her flowing hair as she stalks victims in the winter is quite the evocative image), but the director and photographers really struggle with everything else. The use of CGI is jarring because it does not blend well with the real footage, the special effects make up for some of the injuries goes beyond cartoonish to just plain poorly executed, and the actors react so confusingly to the violence (all done in an effort to show the cuts and wounds being inflicted). It looks amateurish and clumsy at times. The dialogue is beyond simple, as well.

With a runtime of just under 2 hours, it definitely outstays its welcome. However, with a penchant for severed achilles tendons and rusty spikes going into eyes, there's plenty of visceral carnage for gore lovers to enjoy.

Octavia Spencer is magnetic. Her face and body language can turn on the slimmest of edges and her voice, whether she's the soul of the party, encouraging people to drink, or rambling her way through her trauma as she takes a hot iron to a boy's stomach commands all who hear it. There is absolutely no denying her star power.

There is, however, no star power in the script of "Ma," a by-the-numbers thriller that focuses too long on the younger cast members (all relative newcomers) for the wrong reasons, and leaves its impossibly stacked veteran cast on the wayside. Giving the likes of Missy Pyle, Juliette Lewis, Luke Evans and Allison Janney little more to do than be victims of Sue-Ann "Ma's" wrath is criminal. Still, they make the most of the material they're given. Luke is charismatic and unforgiving, Missy is hilarious as the drunk haggard beauty queen, Juliette is sympathetic as the beaten down single mother and Allison is always as a joy as boss dealing with Ma's increasingly deranged behaviour.

This neglect of it's older cast and what they could have done with even just minutes more screen time would be fine, if only the younger cast (and Ma) got explored more. The film, aiming to be a hit with young theatre goers let's its lens fall indulgently, far too frequently, on the good looking kids and seems to stop there. Relationships between the teens are never really explored. They don't even really get to be broad painted stereotypes. Newcomer Maggie falls in with the cool kids and takes the eye of Andy. Are they innocent virgins flirting? Is he like his father? Is Ma doing any of them a service or is she just evil? Hayley apparently talks to much, but she's right to be afraid when she is and she never crosses any lines, in fact she never even gets close to one. Chaz is a bonehead jock but he's apparently harmless and just wants a bottle of wine (we wouldn't know, none of his dialogue is memorable). There's a black teen (Darrell) in this group who gets even less screentime than the white girl who falls asleep at parties (no joke).

No, the real star is Octavia as Ma, and she absolutely dominates every scene. Sadly, Ma doesn't recieve an equal to fight against or torture. She just has a boring script and predictable story beats to see her through to the inevitable conclusion.

Paul Feig's quieter Christmas comedy is one that stands up to repeated viewings. With a banging soundtrack that mines the archives of George Michaels' achievements, the warming tale of Kate and Tom is the right balance of sweet and twee that the best mainstream Christmas films ace.

Emilia Clarke and Harry Golding play off each other so well as the chemistry sparks and lights brighter than the tacky Chinese gifts of Santa's Christmas store. Clarke shows a great deal of warmth, comedy and kindness that she rarely got to show as the tragic, hardfaced, mad ruler in Game of Thrones and hits the dramatic beats as Tom's existence in her life begins to complicate things. Golding, for his part, gets to do a bit more than he did in Crazy Rich Asians and Simple Favor, playing a goofy and insightful delivery man with the smouldering looks of young Sean Connery or Omar Shariff. They're helped tremendously by an absolute killer support cast including Michelle Yeoh, as Kate's hardnosed, romantically awkward boss and Emma Thompson, as Kate's depressed Yugoslavian mother. Each absolutely nailing their scenes of comedy and pathos without pulling focus from the main story of a young girl, lost at Christmas and the magic we can find, if only we look for it. Feig still finds opportunities for absolutely nutty comedy, though, like when Santa meets the Boy for the first time, or Emma Thompson's Petra waking up to lament the racist British and blaming the Polish. Flashbacks to Kate's doomed flatmates and beleaguered friends make the most of her disastrous position in life early on with big laughs.

The weight of the plot is skillfully underplayed, so that when the emotional beats occur at the end of the third act, it takes a minute or two for it all to sink in. I cannot remember ever welling up at a film half an hour AFTER it finished on the way home, or when I try to explain the plot to others. It's moving, lovely and just the right side of sweet without being melodramatic, and both main actors and the writing sell it wonderfully. While it may not be a modern classic, sitting besides the likes of Joyeux Noel or the darker than treacle Bad Santa, it has a space as one of the best cozy up to your loves on a Sunday night Christmas films, and in a time where companies like Netflix are vomiting out five or six new seasonal films a year, that's a massive achievement!

Poor island folk are terrorised by selfish mainland middle class idiots when they unleash a bound herd of predatory elves.

Sadly, the writers would have us think the island folk are in the wrong for telling the children of the responsible family "this is all happening because of you, you spoiled turds" thus robbing us of any satisfaction in seeing the family ripped apart.

This show is slow, dumb and about as fun as playing charades all night with your blund deaf abd dumb racist relatives at Christmas after too much stuffing. Avoid at all costs.

Fear Street: 1994 is a poorly thought out slasher, aiming at social commentary and missing spectacularly.

Blending genre is fine, it worked for Jordan Peele, but moviemakers need to remember, when you make a genre flick, get the focal genre down right before you add in other things. Unfortunately, Fear Street:1994 collapses under itself, with a tryhard soundtrack, clueless inclusion and poorly plotted thrills.

The year is 1994, the main characters are a lesbian couple, who are, it appears, out at their school? And no one cares? It's insulting. Some of us lived through the 90s and this revisionism is disgusting to sit through. Tell the truth, especially when you're aiming for a deeper meaning.

The soundtrack is fine for a moment, but when "Insane in the Membrane" crashes right into "Creep," it's like a flex from Netflix rather than an appropriate use of pop music to set a tone. We get it, you're hella down with the beats.

Lastly, it's a horror/teen slasher, but the "teen" part never links up with the rest. Joe Dante's "The Hole" showed how you could make horror terrifying for a young audience, as did the OG "The Witches" or "Monster Squad." That a young audience can see villains and experience fear and the horror of living and dying without being subjected to heads being put through cake cutters. Here, the tone is very tween, with dumb decisions made by dumb kids, and optimism in places you wouldn't expect it in a slasher, only to smash the bright lights out with an axe to the head or the repeated stabbing of one's heart. The tonal shifts are a problem. Who is the audience for this? It can't be adults, because in a Post-Scream world, they expect and know better, and it can't be youngsters, because the violence prohibits it.

End of the day, if you're gonna set a film in 1994, you need to commit to it, and not just use the era as window dressing for an ambling slasher flick. Otherwise, it's just fantastical wish fulfilment and... well that is terrifying, but for the wrong reasons.

Halloween Kills is like a 22nd episode season that needs to shuffle it's core cast to a point in the 20th episode before the two-part finale. While it's got blood aplenty and a decent enough twist in the end delivered by Laurie Strode, it doesn't offer a satisfying whole.

Picking up immediately from where Halloween '18 left off, Laurie and her family are on their way to the hospital with Michael hopefully burning to death in the basement. But because this is a sequel, we all know he's survived it. After hacking up the fire department on hand to put out the flames, he's off on round two. This time, however, the townspeople of Haddonfield are not willing to let him get away with another massacre.

The story could be great. It should be great. The entire town should know about his evil actions from the past, and by the beginning of this movie, know he has returned. Unfortunately, the scriptwriters need Michael to survive into the final part, and without a convincing reason as to why the townspeople would lose this fight, they get left to behave like absolute muppet lemmings lining up for the meatgrinder.

Thankfully, the movie works in a few of its moments. The first victims after Michael escapes the burning inferno (a delightful elderly couple) and the gay couple now residing in the Myers' home, are given plenty to work with so that when Michael erupts into their living rooms, you do feel a pang of sadness for them. The townsfolk (many from the original movie, played by their original actors), get given a little to play around with, and their violence and recklessness is understandable when you consider the 40 years of fear and confusion they must have been harboring. Just look at how traumatised Laurie was in H18. That collective trauma explodes here in a desire to end a nightmare. Sadly, as mentioned, the writers allow far too many errors to occur so that Michael may survive the night, making the victims appear hapless and dumb. Tommy, who should be a hero, does everything wrong from the second he picks up the baseball bat.

There is an interesting fatalistic streak to Halloween. Laurie felt it first, as Michael got ever closer to her, 40 years ago. Even now, there appears to be a willingness on the people populating this town to embrace the death he'll bring. Michael isn't so much a cause but a symptom of violence and fear, and, as Laurie explains to surviving Detective Hawkins, it's gonna require more than just weapons to take him down.

There is a good movie hidden somewhere in there, but without enough plot to make this a full product, and with a town full of lemmings dressed in people clothing, it's difficult to form a strong response to it. Still, next year's Halloween Ends is gonna be something, alright!

Burial Ground is an Italian bonkers mix of audio horror, vile imagery and gutsy character work.

In the best manner, Burial Ground does all it can to make you feel uncomfortable. Forgetting the slow march of the decaying filth following the cast, the cast themselves are playing some of the most egregious characters ever committed to film. Each and every one of them seems wrong in some way. The framing of the violence, often in close up, with the camera remaining long after the skin's been torn, or the skull cracked makes for seat squirming viewing. The zombies, with live maggots and worms and eyes falling out of sockets, stir nasty feelings of disgust as they shamble and stumble and lay seige to the mansion.

In it all, though, is a sense of beauty. The grounds of the mansion and its interior are epic. The cast, even though they're being terrorised all night, look absolutely stunning in their pearls and perms and high neck sweaters. The blood flows like paint on a wet canvas.

But the kicker, the reason to watch this film, is the final scene. In a moment built up over the runtime, we get one of cinema's most depraved and insane developments ever committed to in film. A real horror crowd pleaser that I'm sure if played at any late night horror show would get whoops and gasps and screams of delight from the audience.