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QuickView: Miller’s Girl (2024)

“You can’t blur the lines, and then expect me to see a boundary when I suddenly cross it.”

Cairo Sweet

Tackling the heavy subject of inappropriate student-teacher relationships, Miller’s Girl has literary pretensions that outstrip writer-director Jade Hadley Bartlett’s subtlety. Her deployment of Daniel Brothers’ evocative cinematography serves to romanticise the developing relationship between middle-aged Miller and his student Cairo. Martin Freeman was reportedly uncomfortable filming some scenes with Jenna Ortega given their age difference, but in truth there is little salacious on screen — their chemistry is cerebral, varying between titillating and ridiculous. Ortega is absorbing though her performance has notable similarities to Wednesday, an emotionally detached and intellectually isolated youth. Her screen presence is enough to maintain engagement even as it becomes clear that Cairo’s provocations lack motivation. Miller is more obviously a flimsy sketch, a failed author demeaned at home by his wife, entranced by a restless waif. Without any genuine emotional core, Miller’s Girl is never more than pseudo-sordid fluff.

5/10

QuickView: The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare (2024)

“If Hitler isn’t playing by the Rules, then neither shall we?”

Winston Churchill

A heavily fictionalised portrayal of Operation Postmaster, a covert WW2 mission to disrupt Nazi U-boat resupply and allow the USA to cross the Atlantic and join the European theatre, Guy Ritchie delivers a pulpy action espionage film with plenty of crowd-pleasing Nazi killing. Ritchie plainly wants Ungentlemanly Warfare to be considered alongside Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds, even using a score filled with Western motifs to accompany his band of violent rogues. Although he attempts to ratchet tension in dialogue-heavy scenes with with Nazi officers, they feel closer to cutscenes from the recent Wolfenstein games and the cartoonish Heinrich Luhr poses no threat to Hans Landa’s standing in sinister cinematic villains. The Wolfenstein comparison is apt for the action too, with a hulking Alan Ritchson equally comfortable brawling or sniping with a bow, though Ritchie is oddly reserved when it comes to gore despite the high body count. Henry Cavill — once considered a prime contender for James Bond — is cast as one of the main inspirations for Ian Fleming’s character, and he brings a devilish charm to the dauntless Gus March-Phillips. This is the second time Ritchie has provided Cavill with a Bond-adjacent role, after casting him as Napoleon Solo in The Man from U.N.C.L.E.. The sun-soaked African espionage is enjoyable, manging to conjure a little of Casablanca in casino-owner Heron, though the pacing stumbles in expository dialogue. The third act, an assault under cover of night, is a dimly lit affair that proves considerably less engaging — the result is an underwhelming culmination to film that had succeeded through bombast.

6/10

QuickView: Deadpool & Wolverine (2024)

“Suck it Fox! I’m going to Disneyland!”

Deadpool

The future of the Merc with a Mouth was uncertain following Disney’s acquisition of Fox, his brand of snarky violence seeming an odd fit for the more cohesive sensibilities of the MCU. Yet, as Marvel continues to flounder in a post-Endgame world, Deadpool’s irreverent return is a shot in the arm even as it looks more to the past than the future. The Time Variance Authority provides a neat excuse to resurrect Wolverine without doing (too much) disservice to his send-off in Logan, an issue addressed directly in the opening scene. However, those hoping that this will advance the MCU’s multiverse plot will be sorely disappointed as Deadpool treats the Avengers with adoration but the bloated franchise with comedic disdain (“You’re joining at a bit of a low point”). Deadpool & Wolverine excels in witty dialogue and absurd physical comedy, unfolding like an ultraviolent sketch comedy as the unlikely pair — the loquacious and the laconic — interact with a swathe of characters on a journey through loosely-connected scenes to save Wade’s timeline. This sadly jettisons the majority of the series’ returning cast for most of the running time in favour of an intellectual property playground. The action is sufficiently rousing, but embracing both characters’ accelerated healing factor also robs the fights of even short-term peril, the opening sequence being the most creative and memorable. Littered with surprising cameos, the film serves as a fitting send-off to Fox’s early investment in Marvel properties before their imminent MCU reboots, though it does little for the characters themselves who are disposable meta-references. This is insubstantial cinema trading on nostalgia like No Way Home, a trick already wearing slightly thin, but as a comedy I laughed more frequently than I have at any recent film.

7/10

QuickView: Palm Springs (2020)

“Today, tomorrow, yesterday — it’s all the same.”

Nyles

Palm Springs is the another addition to the recently expanding genre of time loop movies that owe a debt to Groundhog Day but, where many are merely derivative of the 1993 progenitor, Palm Springs succeeds in finding its own voice. Its greatest strength is a risk, trusting the audience’s intelligence by starting in medias res but doing so covertly — we swiftly discover that protagonist Nyles has already experienced this day many times before and the our knowledge is more closely aligned with Sarah (Cristina Milioti will be most recognisable from How I Met Your Mother) who is drawn into the loop. Palm Springs assumes cultural knowledge of Groundhog Day to allow exploration of the moral implications which emerged in its critical dissection over the subsequent decades. As disillusioned wedding guests, Milioti and Samberg are charming even in their characters’ more chaotic moments and they have plenty of chemistry, whilst a sense of mystery is introduced through the intermittent appearance of a homicidal J.K. Simmons. What makes Palm Springs such a delight is the variety on offer as it explores the multifarious psychological edges of this familiar fantastic circumstance, by turns nihilistic and joyous, calm and unhinged.

8/10

QuickView: Weird: The Al Yankovic Story (2022)

“Honey, I know it’s hard to hear this, but your dad and I had a long talk and we agreed it would be best for all of us if you would just stop being who you are and doing the things you love.”

Mary

There is always a certain level of mythologising in any biopic but Weird has an Andy Kaufman level of disinterest in audience expectation as it frequently dispenses with the truth entirely. This feels appropriate for a man whose career has been built upon flamboyant oddity and parody, now reworking his past into a world in which his signature accordion is treated like an illicit drug. Daniel Radcliffe is perfectly cast at the centre of this surreal experience, continuing his predilection for absurd roles. Toby Huss provides strong support as his overbearing father, supplying much of the film’s emotional stakes. By contrast Evan Rachel Woods’ cartoonish take on Madonna finds less purchase. Yankovic appears briefly as a music executive who rejected him, with a host of celebrity fans and friends providing cameos that outsize the film’s $8 million budget. The script — written by Yankovic and director Eric Appel — acknowledges criticisms of parody being lazy, before proceeding to assert irreverently that several of Yankovic’s famous parodies were originals copied by other artists. Some of the film’s most amusing sequences parody movie tropes like the genius being struck by inspiration, in this case arising from mundane events like making a sandwich or eating cereal. Radcliffe performs a number of songs but Yankovic’s own vocals are dubbed over, less as a necessary choice than because it was the approach taken in Bohemian Rhapsody. This highlights the primary intention of Weird, which is to be a reactionary breath of fresh air amongst the recent glut of musician biopics that have grown stale and formulaic. It comfortably achieves this goal — weird if not always wonderful.

7/10

QuickView: Lost Bullet (2020)

“I have the best drivers. You’re going to give them the best cars.”

Charas

Cars, criminals and crooked cops: Lost Bullet mixes these key ingredients to concoct a lean action crime thriller with a hefty dose of French style. Stuntman and actor Alban Lenoir is French action cinema’s answer to Jason Statham as the honourable criminal/mechanic Lino, down to the stubble, close cropped hair and permanently squinting gaze. Plucked from prison to modify cars for a specialised police unit so that they can combat “go-fast” drug smugglers, it is a simple recipe for car chases and kinetic fistfights. Lost Bullet’s focus rarely wavers, trimming the fat from stereotypical Hollywood action fare whilst still providing enough characterisation to keep us invested as Lino seeks to clear his name. If you experience any enjoyment in creative vehicular destruction, Lost Bullet is a pleasant surprise that is well worth your time.

7/10

QuickView: Wildlife (2018)

“You know what they call trees in a forest fire? Fuel. You know what they call the trees left up when the fires go by? They call them the standing dead.”

Jeanette Brinson

Actor Paul Dano’s directorial debut is a 1960s family drama set in a small town that is surrounded by wildfires, a metaphor for the claustrophobic relationship and sense of impending doom at its heart. Dano’s style is restrained, trusting his actors’ performances to carry the film and he draws out wonderfully nuanced performances from Carey Mulligan and Jake Gyllenhaal. Both characters are harmed by their own pride, early tension arising when Jerry loses his job, set against the backdrop of shifting gender roles. The focus of Wildlife is really on Jeanette’s erratic behaviour in response to her marital troubles, and here Mulligan excels. The audience perspective is that of the couple’s 14-year-old son, and in key moments Dano chooses to leave the camera on Joe’s expression whilst the audience can surmise — contextually or through audio — what is happening off-screen. This is engaging, if old-school, performance-centric film making, and it serves the material well.

8/10

QuickView: Leprechaun (1992)

“You only got away because me powers are weak! I need me gold!”

Leprechaun

Eviscerated by critics on release, Leprechaun fares slightly better now as a campy 90s throwback, particularly as it stars a 24-year-old Jennifer Aniston before Friends catapulted her to global fame. Although it may offer unintended entertainment in its awfulness, there is nothing of quality here: the plot is almost non-existent, the dialogue is atrocious, and the characters are the worst kind of artificially stupid horror tropes. Warwick Davis receives top billing, gamely throwing himself into the villainous Leprechaun role, hamming it up beneath prosthetics and snarling his way through terrible quips. Leprechaun might have succeeded if its gore and effects were not so laughably poor, but there is no genuine horror here. The critics were entirely correct, then, but there is an additional sliver of silly fun for a modern audience.

4/10

QuickView: Asteroid City (2023)

“I still don’t understand the play.”

Augie Steenbeck

Wes Anderson’s recent films have begun to feel like pastiches of his own work. Asteroid City trades his usual literary trappings for theatrical ones, a meta narrative providing monochrome sequences — narrated by Bryan Cranston — about a play that is represented by a full-colour film in traditional Anderson style. The increased artifice makes it more difficult to connect with these characters who are now characters being portrayed by actors who are played by actors (with nothing quite so pithy as Tropic Thunder’s “I’m a dude playing a dude disguised as another dude.”). Ironically the most nuanced performance within the play is probably Scarlett Johanson’s… as a famous actress. The location, a desert town known only for its crater, feels less like a populated location than the empty shell of a theatrical set. It is unclear whether the 60s-era sci-fi technology is a deliberate anachronism or simple suited to Anderson’s aesthetic preferences. Although he blurs the edges at times, Anderson’s approach is neither as convoluted nor as ambitious as, say, Charlie Kaufman’s Synecdoche, New York. That makes it easier to switch off and enjoy the contrivance for what it is, but there is little substance here.

6/10

QuickView: Foe (2023)

“In the beginning, everything feels so alive and exciting. But time makes it predictable.”

Hen

Predictability is not necessarily a flaw unless a film is so focused on impressing its audience with a twist that its fumbled attempts at misdirection serve only to weaken its narrative. Foe is a perfect example of prizing surprise over storytelling — and failing on both counts. Its near future Earth, ravaged by climate change, is a sandblasted backdrop to the exploration of an isolated couple’s relationship. Their strained marriage is tested when they receive an unexpected offer: Junior has been chosen to spend time on an orbiting space station and Hen will be provided with an AI simulacrum while he is away. Foe succeeds in crafting an oppressive, emotionally fraught atmosphere with committed performances from Saoirse Ronan and Paul Mescal, and clearly has ambitions at exploring the human condition in the vein of Ex Machina with its tripartite claustrophobic conversations. However, the deliberate lack of context and ponderous pretensions at profundity instead make Foe a gruelling and unrewarding experience.

4/10

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