'Dirty God' lays its cards on the table from the start. Director Sacha Polak treats us to an uncomfortable yet strangely sumptuous montage of her star’s facial burns, scored by a sanguinely poppy soundtrack. This is a film which places its focus squarely on the survivor of an horrific acid attack, never dignifying the assault itself or the perpetrator with undue screen time. It also pulls no punches in showing us the harsh realities of a young working-class woman living with trauma, whilst also allowing its lead to be a fully fleshed out, sensuous human being.

Newcomer Vicky Knight is resoundingly impressive as the steely yet fragile Jade, flung into an unfamiliar world where her one currency – conforming to classical beauty standards – is no longer available to her. Knight’s scars are her own, and she brings a wealth of lived experience to bear in this role, her quiet dignity and simmering anger infusing her audience to blood-boiling effect, and enabling her character to do some reckless, stupid and indeed utterly reprehensible things without ever losing our sympathy. By any standards it’s an impressive debut (for Polak too, her third feature but first in the English language), and Knight’s assured performance makes for an engrossing and affecting 100 minutes. She fares less well with her (admittedly very infrequent) soliloquies, occasionally struggling to make the words sound fully owned, but when bouncing off others she absolutely soars, and her physicality and world-weary expressiveness are mesmeric.

Similarly Polak’s use of dreamlike expressionistic sequences to pepper and break up her unflinching kitchen sink drama is deft and hypnotic, giving us a window into the hallucinatory realm of Jade’s mind post-trauma. In another director’s hands these might come across as incongruous, but here Polak’s keen eye and canny restraint ensures we are almost unaware of the tonal and stylistic shifts, suddenly finding ourselves immersed in a fantastical world removed from the grim reality of a few moments before, yet also inextricably linked to it.

Ultimately 'Dirty God' serves to remind us just how cruel the world can be to one to has already suffered unimaginable cruelty. Even those who are supposedly in Jade’s corner are constantly re-emphasising that her life is now effectively over because she’s lost her looks, and it could be said that the real villain of the piece is not her assailant but oppressive and ever-prevalent ideas of feminine beauty. Jade is presented as a fiercely sexual being, but any time she takes control of her own image, her destiny or her sexuality, she is roundly taken advantage of and punished for it. The real eye-opener is that the unthinking cruelty that is visited upon her again and again throughout the film could easily befall any female-presenting person who doesn’t conform to societal expectation, but her sudden newfound disfigurement allows her and us to examine this in sharp relief. Just when she’s most in need of love and validation, she has it cruelly snatched away by a society that is stupid and broken, far more than she is. “He destroyed you” her mother tells her ruefully. “No,” she responds defiantly, “He didn’t”.

Jade’s skin is innocent in all of this. We’re trained by our culture to see features such as hers as the problem, a taboo to be hidden or pitied. In fact the issue is within and without, her flesh merely a wall between two toxic wells of prejudice, one external, the other tragically internalised. Throughout the film she must find workarounds to enable her to partake in the things she enjoyed before her assault, even things as innocuous as walking down the street without being harassed. Then one remembers that as a teenage girl in South London she probably couldn’t do that anyway, and we are reminded that her facial scars really aren’t the problem here, and that the people who commit these crimes are only afforded their power to create long-lasting harm by a complicit populace who place a corrosive ideal of beauty over all else, including basic human compassion.

Review by Jenet Le Lacheur.

Actor turned writer-director Cameron Nugent opens his debut feature with the strains of “Row Row Row Your Boat” reinterpreted as a buoyant yet haunting mariachi piece. It’s a sound which infuses a number of other folk and popular songs throughout, and beautifully sets up the sun-drenched, childlike world inhabited by our lead character: a boy, appositely enough, named Sailboat.

​So named because he was obsessed with – and able to draw – the eponymous vessel from a miraculously tender age (according to his parents, before he’d ever actually seen one). We find our hero in bleak circumstances. A house permanently listing to one side, held up by a single, much-vaunted stick (one of Nugent’s more delightfully on-the-nose visual metaphors, of which there are several), and a gravely ill grandmother, for whom he vows to write the greatest song ever using his new acquisition: a beat-up ukulele. It’s not exactly a spoiler to say he succeeds, but this film does nothing in the way you expect.

Faintly reminiscent of the sweet-yet-macabre surrealism of Quentin Dupieux’s similarly sparse 'Rubber', via the super-saturated symmetry of Wes Anderson, this is a cosily off-kilter curio, which even as it constantly wrongfoots, never causes discomfort. This is quite the achievement given the film’s unrelenting strangeness and occasional menace, but every character is possessed of a kind of earnest innocence, sweet but never saccharine, which creates a sense of the world being drawn by our diminutive hero. A barnstorming turn by newcomer Julian Atocani Sanchez, Sailboat is our eye and our narrator, and not since the likes of Lenny Abrahamson’s 'Room' have we been ushered into a child’s world with such uncanny accuracy, transporting us to a simpler place and allowing us to us to enjoy some blunt yet elegant truths from the place such things always seem to come: out the mouths of babes.

None is more acutely felt than Sailboat’s appraisal of people’s response to his grandmother’s song (religious in fervour, his audiences – quite rightly, one could argue – treating the composer of the greatest song ever as an almost messianic figure): he observes that before his opus, everyone was quiet around him, and now, they’re still quiet. But maybe there are different types of quiet. It’s not breaking any new ground for a piece of art to examine the process of making art, but some phrases capture the process of creation better than most. “Sometimes you do a thing for someone, and everyone thinks it’s for everyone, but it’s really for someone. Everyone just forgot.” From out the mouths of babes, indeed.

'A Boy Called Sailboat' eloquently enquires of us, why make art? What drives us to do it and who is it ultimately for? Given this fact it’s not surprising Nugent has ensnared so many fine artists to help him tell his determinedly odd tale. The ever reliable JK Simmons appears in a tiny yet pivotal capacity, and the supporting cast is a roster of standouts, from Jake Busey as Sailboat’s trenchantly ridiculous teacher, to Noel Gugliemi and Elizabeth De Razzo as his peculiarly adorable parents. The latter three share most of the film’s laughs, Gugliemi in particular doing sterling work with a bearded dragon as a novelty pest control device (though if he wants an effective predator of wood ants, he’d do well to go for a smaller lizard).

Overall, Nugent has crafted an unlikely gem, amusing, gently affecting, exquisitely scored and replete with eminently quotable lines. For a debut feature it has an incredibly strong sense of personality, and an intensely personable one at that.

‘Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile’ is not for those looking for the gory details of Ted Bundy’s murders. Nor is it an in-depth analysis of his life prior and the trial. Anyone with a vague interest in true crime will know the man and what he did, this film takes a different approach.

The film is based on the book ‘The Phantom Prince: My life with Ted Bundy’ by Elizabeth Kendall (formerly Kloepfer) and therefore primarily focuses on her relationship with Bundy. The story is heart breaking as it depicts the real life vulnerability of a woman just looking for some security. Lilly Collins powerfully portrays Elizabeth Kendall’s complex feelings towards Bundy and the life long struggle she went through. The authenticity of her emotions radiates through the screen making it impossible not to feel everything along with her.

Zac Efron as Ted Bundy is charismatic and subtly evil. He shows how Bundy was a master manipulator, charming everyone he met in to doing his bidding. His looks may seem to some like he is glamourising a murderer, but this was Bundy’s whole persona. The film does nothing more than depict what is already known as fact. Filmmaker Joe Berlinger concentrates on remaking memorable media moments from Bundy’s trial. These scenes run along side Elizabeth Kendall’s story creating a narrative that is informative and representative. Although, as the film is based on Kendall’s perspective, it felt like more could have been done to showcase this. There were moments that could have been explored more in more detail to fully establish her emotional journey.

The performances of the principle actors are what make this film powerful. As well as Efron and Collins, John Malkovich as Judge Edward Cowart and Jim Parsons as Larry Simpson carry the densely factual and harrowing narrative. With out these performances the film lacks a certain creativity which is commonly found in films based on real life events.

​Overall ‘Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile’ was very enjoyable. As someone who knows the ins and outs of Bundy’s story I found watching the story from another point of view incredibly interesting as it was devastating.

The titular pun aptly sums up the diverting subject matter of this affectionate documentary. Filmmaker Lloyd Ross takes a look at the sociopolitical landscape of post-apartheid South Africa framed in the unconventional (and uniquely South African) context of contemporary Nando’s advertising. Known for their daring and singular voice, they became one of the country’s best-loved and most archetypal brands. Made with the co-operation of the restaurant chain and talking heads from representatives of the marketing companies they worked with over the years, Ross’s film celebrates the moral stance and distinctive character of the little chicken shop that could.

The film’s narrative hangs on the television advertising campaigns for the company in the 1980s and 90s; Virtually unknown outside of South Africa, and entirely emblematic of the era, they were risky, of the moment and always a talking point. It is a fascinating insight into a company that has largely played it safe elsewhere in the world. Although Nando’s has a reputation for being “cheeky”; only in South Africa is it seen as defiant, a voice for the people, a chain with a strong social conscience. The film effectively illustrates the significance of the Nando’s rise to popularity and captures a lot of the spirit and energy now fondly remembered by South Africans who came of age in the era.

Ross’s film is a loving and informative slice of life inside the early years of the New South Africa and paints a rosy picture of a company that didn’t always get it right but had heart and was willing to make a stand. Perhaps too easily uncritical of the choices made by the commercial arm of the chain, it is nonetheless a charming and edifying watch that gives voice to the ordinary people and striving business owners of a country beset by assumptions and stereotypes from Britain, especially.

Guaranteed to raise a smile, and a few eyebrows, though it could have stood to dig a little deeper and present more substance alongside the confection. 'Pluck' is a pleasing watch and a worthwhile potted history of a distinct time and place.

'Woman at War' is a beautifully filmed drama with a timely theme of eco-activism, laced with love, family and humanity. Halla, played sensitively and sympathetically by Halldóra Geirharðsdóttir, is the 40-something fearless eco-warrior, hacking down pylons and sabotaging electrical power in the plight to save her Icelandic landscapes from hated corporate energy companies.

The opening scene sets the tone for her secret eco-activism: both fraught with danger of electrocution - even death, and the potential for discovery by the authorities who will most certainly prosecute and imprison this ‘terrorist’. But quiet choir master Halla is not an obvious suspect, and suspicion is diverted by a random and odd tourist, who manages to be in the wrong place at the wrong time… phew. It’s often a close shave as she races across difficult terrain and hides under mossy banks to avoid helicopters. At these points it’s a thriller, and you are willing her to remain undiscovered. With the help of a local farmer friend Sveinbjörn (warmly and gruffly played by Jóhann Sigurðarson), she repeatedly escapes detection and capture, mostly by a hair’s breadth!

However, the incongruous and comic presence of a trio of musicians, that appear in situ in the landscape, provide an odd light relief, as well as some appealing Icelandic folk music. There they are, playing the score to the action, and are joined later by a trio of traditionally dressed beautiful Ukranian singers. Occasionally one or more of the tuba, trumpet, accordion, piano and/or drums also appear inside, sympathetically accompanying her thoughtful daily activities. It’s an odd, but likeable, distraction and gives the film an eccentric additional comment to make you smile, as well as some rather haunting music.

But I digress. Halla is herself distracted by a letter that is to change her life in a very different direction. Her long forgotten application to adopt a child has finally come to fruition, and a little girl is waiting in Ukraine. How does this sit with her guerrilla eco-activism? Will she reduce her campaign now she is to be a responsible and loving mother? Halla thinks of a solution to cease action, but maintain her presence. Not all goes to plan. Enter her identical twin Asa, a hippy yoga teacher (also played by Geirharðsdóttir). If ever there was a need for an identical twin, this is it. And as identical twin movies go, this is one of the best, by far. Geirharðsdóttir’s performances in both roles are beautifully drawn, but particularly as the compelling Halla, as she grabbles with her dream of motherhood and her fierce love of her planet.
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Not to plot spoil, but the last scene shows Halla dealing with life’s extremes and adversities in the pursuit of what you love and believe in. Do see this movie, it is a rewarding experience, both cinematically and emotionally, and it will quietly stay with you.
Icelandic with English subtitles, directed by Icelandic actor-turned-director Benedikt Erlingsson.

'Madeline’s Madeline' is a deep dive into the mind of, yes you guessed it, Madeline (played with raw frenzy by Helena Howard). She is a biracial 16 year old struggling with an unnamed mental illness who derives solace from her experimental theatre troupe as she waits to hear if she has been accepted into Juilliard. Railing against her soft-spoken but overprotective mother (Molly Parker) and finding creative encouragement in acting teacher Regina (Miranda July), she is both unpredictable in her sudden bouts of suggested violence and endearing in her intense imaginings. One sequence sees her pretend to be a sea turtle in a class exercise, and suddenly the camera cuts to place us on the back of a real sea turtle shuffling along a beach to the ocean. Moments like these are surprising and highly immersive, elevating the film beyond what could have otherwise been a standard teen coming-of-age tale of first kisses and creative discovery.

Instead, the film goes on to explore the blurry lines between authorship and exploitation in art. As the theatre troupe prepare their show, Regina shifts the subject matter from a story about prisoners to a devised piece that draws from and reenacts Madeline’s own struggles and relationships. What at first feels like a potentially therapeutic catharsis for the teen quickly descends into queasy appropriation. The title frames Madeline as a sort of Russian doll, full of inner twists and turns that she can’t quite reckon with. As an audience, we’re constantly uncomfortably close to her due to the sounds of breathing and body gurgles, and the way camera veers off to focus on banal details in the same way that eyes do. Sounds of other events or oncoming scenes bleed into the present like memories, as though we’re experiencing the narrative from Madeline’s perspective looking back.

It’s a bold and uncomfortable look at a character and director Josephine Decker’s own creative process, which often hinges on improvisation and real-life details from her collaborators as the basis for her scripts. 'Madeline’s Madeline' may raise more questions than it definitively answers, but it remains an entertaining and experimental piece with strong performances and a wonderfully strange dance sequence as its triumphant climax.

Darkly delectable, 'Lords of Chaos' investigates the true and harrowing fates of the originators of Norwegian black metal group Mayhem, with unflinching unease and grotesque dedication. It charts the rise of the group from insurgent teens bent on rebelling for rebellions sake to creators of an entirely new subgenre. Paired with a soundtrack by Sigur Rós, the film launches itself far from the bonny delights of 'Bohemian Rhapsody' popularity and sets its sights instead on the creation of a part thriller, part coming of age that reeks of havoc and an uncanny ability to swerve between the cynically comic and sinisterly ominous. The film does an excellent job of navigating the spaces occupied by metalheads and those completely oblivious to the genre. As one bewildered onlooker notes to Mayhem’s lead ‘it’s gonna sound horrible’ to which they receive the reply ‘that’s the whole point’, 'Lords of Chaos' purposefully and succinctly explains the appeal of metal without bashing the audiences heads with ruptured bass chords about it.

Rory Culkin is enigmatic as the band’s leader and influencer, Euronymous, awkwardly peering out through stringy black strands of hair with bug eyes and an enigmatic ambition bent on exploiting even the most traumatic events of his young life for the group’s success. Though the film has already received much criticism for the depiction of both extremist anti-Christian views and of graphic violence, the representation of suicide, murder and church burnings is not only essential to the tale but candidly done by director Jonas Åkerlund. Strikingly sincere, the images of death serve as reminders of the true brutality that emerged from a stint that started as a smarting teenage rebellion against hierarchy and all forms of authority alone. Åkerlund’s film is unflinchingly self-aware as moping teens in leather and chains sulk through Norway’s picture perfect towns and streets, yelling to jovial parental voices that they will be back late and egging each other on to try new feats of violence or destruction while hesitantly cowering from engaging in any action.

​Varg Vikernes struggles to tell the reporters he has brought to his darkened candlelit lair how exactly Nazism, Paganism and Communism intersect and Euronymous brags unabashedly about violent acts he has no intention of committing before snuggling on a sofa with Ann-Marit played by the sparsely seen Sky Ferreira. There’s an acute understanding of the paroxysmal desire for authenticity and autonomy while having little idea about how to achieve it. This, combined with the toxic power struggle between Euronymous and Varg for ultimate dominance which ultimately leads in the destruction of both, elevate the film beyond the chaotic devilry of exploring teenage rebellion, to a place where at its core, we are given a brazen observation of the ways in which image, influence and power continue to intersect.

A kindergarten teacher sees great artistic promise in one of her 5-year-old students and goes above and beyond to nurture his talent. The film written and directed by Sarah Colangelo stars Maggie Gyllenhaal as Lisa, Parker Sevak as Jimmy and Gael García Bernal as Simon. Colangelo delivers a surprising and shocking tale of nurture and obsession, an unsettling character study of the titular 'Kindergarten Teacher'. Maggie Gyllenhaal embodies Lisa to perfection, a kindergarten teacher brimming with creativity yet stuck in a boring life, a boring marriage, disappointed with her children, frustrated out of her mind. When she sees the chance for greatness in someone else, a little boy called Jimmy who is easily shaped and influenced, she cannot resist the opportunity. And this is where the film and her character really make you sit up, pay attention and start to question what you're seeing. It is a rather disturbing journey that the film takes you on, but that is exactly what makes it so outstanding. The unexpected dark turn grips you, Maggie Gyllenhaal's performance makes your skin crawl and you cannot help your gasps of shock and surprise of what you're seeing throughout the second half of the film.

One the one hand this is the ever present story of parents living through their children, wanting them to have the lives they couldn't have, achieve what they couldn't achieve. Lisa looks at her own children as failures because they don't seem to have creative talent or any interest in the arts, which is what matters most to Lisa. Her daughter gets straight As, her son wants to enlist, and yet it isn't enough. So she wants Jimmy to have the life she never had. She is under the impression she never got anywhere with her poetry because she wasn't getting the support she needed, but maybe deep down she knows she wasn't talented enough, that she wasn't an artist. She brings up Mozart, another child prodigy, who she thinks would never have been able to create what he did without the support and nurture he received. Lisa's yearning for a creative outlet in her rather mundane life is relatable at least in its escapism, but it really hits home when you discover she has all the passion but no real talent. And there is this little boy who is the embodiment of the exact inversion of her. He doesn't even try, it just pours out of him. The juxtaposition of these two really broke my heart and it sets a solid foundation for what's to come. On the other hand you have the boy's father, who is more concerned with his son not ending up like his brother the artist, who now proofreads other people's work for just 50k a year. Like most parents the father is more concerned with his son's financial security and future than any artistic endeavours. It's great he's got talent, but we gotta be realistic.

What 'The Kindergarten Teacher' boils down to for me is Lisa's yearning for connection with someone who appreciates the same things and shares her values. Neither her husband nor her children seem to take an interest in her passion let alone understand it. She goes as far as to sleep with her poetry teacher who she rebuffs at first, but the connection with a like-minded person is too strong to ignore. Lisa's loneliness is even more tragic when you consider she's alone in a crowd. The worst kind of loneliness. Gyllenhaal manages to depict Lisa's decision to connect with a 5-year-old as a last resort more relatable and believable than it may sound. We can relate, we emphasize, we understand. It is a haunting portrayal of loneliness, desire and obsession. Yet I couldn't help but wonder how this film and its plot would be received with a leading man instead of a leading lady. Too easily would we judge and assume the worst, and a lot earlier in the film than we would ever allow ourselves to even consider the possibility of anything like this happening with a woman going after a young boy. We see women as nurturing first and foremost and I think this is why 'The Kindergarten Teacher' works as brilliantly as it does, making us feel for both Jimmy and Lisa in its rather disturbing tale.

Without Gyllenhaal's captivating and nuanced performance the entire premise would fall apart. If we don't engage with Lisa and her situation we will not be able to allow and care for her journey and decisions later on in the film. The entire film sinks or swims with Gyllenhaal's performance and she turns out to be a strong swimmer. I don't have any children but still found the narrative deeply disturbing, so please consider yourself warned. There is no violence towards the child depicted in the film, but there is a kidnapping scenario amongst others so please be aware as this might trigger some people. The film is not easy to digest and lends itself to lengthy discussions afterwards. I would go as far and say you might want to watch this with a friend as I did as we both immediately had to talk about what we'd just seen. This is one of the film's aspects I thoroughly enjoyed and I congratulate Colangelo and Gyllenhaal on their daring approach. A tough to stomach yet must see of a film.

Simon Amstell constantly defies expectation. As the host of Never Mind the Buzzcocks his caustic wit and self-deprecating charm married with a total lack of affectation lent him an air of cool invincibility, an image utterly at odds with his stand-up persona, which dealt – and deals – almost exclusively in halting, painfully honest vulnerability. And neither of the above serve as any preparation for his turn as the impishly amoral Eric Sacks in 'Black Pond', a role he seemingly procured through bald-faced pushiness, challenging his friend Will Sharpe to insert him into an already completed film, and creating one of the most deliriously enjoyable comic turns of the decade in the process. More recently he was responsible for the feature-length pseudo-doc 'Carnage', an ode to veganism starring Samantha Spiro as a singing cow.

The surprising thing about 'Benjamin' therefore is it’s the first of his career moves that feels wholly unsurprising, playing as it does like a Greatest Hits album. The acerbic, machine gun patter of his presenting days combined with the aching tenderness of his live shows, finished off with the gleeful blurring of fiction and reality that made 'Carnage' such a mischievous joy.

A familiar figure to long-time fans, the titular Benjamin Oliver is a pallid, mop-haired (vegan) creative with a penchant for thin, ill-looking boys, and star Colin Morgan deftly replicates many of Amstell’s own tics and mannerisms in his brazen yet masterfully restrained central performance. It’s hard to say how much of this was at Amstell’s behest and how much was down to the actor eyeballing his director between takes, à la Peter Sellers in Kubrick’s similarly melancholic 'Lolita'. It’s undoubtedly true the script makes no effort to distance Amstell and his besweatered creation. Some lines are lifted almost verbatim from his stand-up shows, and indeed one scene features a goofy yet fragile Joel Fry as a flailing pub comic, performing a bit that could easily be read as all of Amstell’s insecurities about his work in the form translated into the verbal equivalent of blunt force trauma.

Off the stage Fry continues to impress, brilliantly capturing the pain of an artist adrift in a sea of more successful peers. Enthralled and ensnared by the beguiling Billie (a deliciously reckless Jessica Raine), his is the story that lands the film’s only real emotional gut-punches. Though a beautifully understated cameo from Nathan Stewart-Jarrett rivals it by eloquently cutting to the heart of Morgan’s wounded auteur in the course of a single brief exchange.

In many ways 'Benjamin' is an examination of how we deal with success, and the stresses of trying to maintain it. Both the film and its subject exist in a perpetual state of rictus. We are never allowed to relax. Every decision Benjamin faces is paralysing and every utterance the least-suited for the situation at hand. “Maybe we should just have fun” he observes wistfully at one point. An innocuous enough phrase in the context of a conversation with a prospective boyfriend, but one which masks a rich seam of existential desperation. A terror that the niche he has spent years carving out for himself is neither desirable nor sustainable, and whatever form of fun he currently has is resoundingly not the kind he needs.

If the film has a flaw it’s that it lacks the naked ambition and originality of 'Carnage', Amstell’s directorial debut, and while Morgan’s performance is endlessly relatable, the script doesn’t allow him to plumb the depths of his character as much as one feels he could, so it falls short of being genuinely affecting.

Ultimately 'Benjamin' feels like the natural culmination of numerous threads which have wended their way through Amstell’s career to date. And as such one finds it hard to predict where he might go next. It’s fair to say that whatever he chooses to do now, short of Benjamin II, it cannot but be surprising.

'Luna's Revenge' is a tense story of heartbreak and discovery. Luna’s family are murdered in cold blood during their holiday in the mountains and the killers will stop at nothing the take her out too. As she runs for her life Luna uncovers the truth about her family and her father’s secret life as a Russian spy, but instead of leaving the country and heading for safety she decides that she wants revenge instead.

Lisa Vicari is fantastic as Luna and draws you in with her performance as you go on her journey of grief and fear with her. The film is tense and while it doesn’t do anything greatly surprising with the story, what it does do it does effectively and with great cinematic style. Based on a true story it is a brilliant portrayal of the subtleties of real life espionage.

While there are action scenes, this is not you typical action packed spy movie. It is much more personal than that and is very much about Luna and how the events change her, and also how they don't. As she discovers that her whole life has been a lie we see the childlike innocence stripped away as she becomes a determined young woman with resolve. 'Luna's Revenge' questions where the line is between duty and morals. It also makes a very strong political comment about Russian spies in Germany.

The only downside to this film is that it is essentially straightforward. The story is very well executed but it doesn't do anything surprising or clever, which is the one missing piece of the puzzle that would make it exceptional and a lot more memorable. But otherwise it is a great story and a great film.

Eight teenage friends play games of discovery to alleviate the boredom during a hot summer in a Belgian-Dutch border village. 'We' (original name 'Wij') is a striking and very graphic story about a group of young people who lose their innocence while discovering, exploring, and then exploiting their sexuality in the quest for fun and money. They push the boundaries and challenge themselves and each other, but pretty soon their sexual curiosity begins to blur the lines between right and wrong.

The story is told in chapters through the eyes of different members of the group and we find out what happened while awaiting the outcome of a trial. ‘We’ is a great example of how things can quickly escalate and spiral out of control and the film is very well shot and directed. The chapter based style of storytelling works very well and ensures that things are revealed at the right moments to progress and build the narrative.

The acting was great all round and Aimé Claeys was particularly memorable as Thomas in the way that he showed so many different sides of the character throughout the film. He is definitely the most representative of the teenagers becoming predatory through games and sexual exploitation, and the conclusion to his story is one that will hang in the air once the film ends. What was most interesting was the motivations and reasons why the members of the group do the things that they do, and they all have different reasons.

The film questions responsibility, remorse and accountability and is both a great and somewhat shocking watch.

Coming soon.

The premiere of 'Seeing Him' at the Prince Charles Cinema generated two first times in one night: my first red carpet screening there, which proved more fitting than expected, and the first time I saw a short film screened twice at the same event: before and after a Q&A with the filmmakers (there were also a few last words from the panel and the audience after the second screening). And speaking of second times, we also discovered the film itself had had two directors and had been filmed twice.

Directed by Chris Jones & Catherine Arton, and written by Vanessa Bailey (who also stars), 'Seeing Him' is a doomed love story, the tale of an impossible relationship between Sophie, a middle aged professional, and James, a secret lover Sophie’s sister disapproves of.

French presidential elections still fresh in mind, though I immediately noticed the age gap between Bailey (who you might have seen in Eastenders or Southcliffe), and George Taylor (Partners in Crime, X Company, The Lady in the Van), it didn’t exactly shock me and therefore made me automatically think the secrecy of the relationship couldn’t possibly be only about this. Something about James was also both candidly charming and disturbingly clingy, so I wasn’t surprised either when I saw my suspicions confirmed halfway through the film. Funnily though, if one specific shot hadn’t completely thrown me off track in the first couple of minutes, I would have gotten the whole picture from the very first shot...and this would have taken nothing away from the film’s impact.

To twist, or not to twist… that became one of the first questions during the second Q&A, as many viewers in the audience found themselves moved more deeply during the second viewing once the twist had been revealed and I wonder if the filmmakers will decide to alter the way they present 'Seeing Him' to future audiences.

Another discussion in the Q&A was gender and age. Bailey stated one of her goals in writing 'Seeing Him' was to create new roles for females in their 40s. Ironically, Sophie could really be any age, and it is her universality that in parts also makes the story so relatable to all, age and gender alike. If anything, it made me wonder why casting for similar roles were not open to both genders or with a wider age range in mind.

Gender politics and twist debate aside, the film was unquestionable moving, thanks to natural, vibrant performances by the leads and supporting cast (Catherine Rowney as Sophie’s sister, Duncan Duff as Sophie’s colleague), beautifully natural cinematography (Don McVey), and last but not least, a hauntingly romantic score by composer William Goodchild (Jago: A Life Underwater, Walking Through History).

Review by Anne-Sophie Marie.

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I don't like fart jokes. Never found them even remotely funny. 'Despicable Me 3' includes one in the studio animation before the film starts; and I laughed! That pretty much sums up my experience with the film. Though the script is predictable it never ceases to throw a curve ball at you every now and then to pleasantly surprise you and keep things fresh, all the while serving delectable comedy treats you're used to from the previous two instalments.

This time around Gru and his wife Lucy are after villain Balthazar Bratt. He used to be a child star of a famous kids TV series where he played a villain. But his career tanked when he hit puberty and he never got over it. Being shunned by Hollywood and former fans he turns into the villain he used to only pretend to be.

Cue the most epic 80's nostalgia party you can imagine every time this dude shows up. The first 10 minutes of 'Despicable Me 3' feature the best use of a Michael Jackson song in ages. And this trip of nostalgia permeates the entire film. 'Despicable Me 3' felt just as much a film aimed at adults as their children, more so than any other animated film in recent history. Tons of jokes will go over children's heads while the adults are laughing their asses off. 

Tearjerkers and mega cuteness aren't far behind as the kid trio makes an appearance once Gru and Lucy lose their jobs due to not apprehending Bratt. Seeing little Agnes' usual break-your-heart, cutsey approach to everything is one of the most endearing aspects of the Despicable Me series. Margo teaching Lucy how to actually be a mom is touching, while Edith gets the short end of the stick by basically being the same character throughout all three films with little to no development. On top of all that we are greeted to a new member of the family, Gru's twin brother Dru. Their dynamic is entirely different from anything we have seen previously and is a great addition to the cast. The minions get their own subplot this time around as a rebellion is brewing given Gru's refusal to return to villainy and our little yellow, banana-loving friends are just not ok with that.
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Most of the characters evolve throughout the film. You can see how much they've changed from the first and second films, which adds so much depth and joy to 'Despicable Me 3'. We are attached to this family and go through everything with them. You know this universe and most of the characters, so certain things don't need an explanation and the film is happy to assume you know what's what and just keep going. It has great pace, the script is tight and brimming with humour while giving everyone their moment to shine.

Character moments, action sequences and everything in between are written almost to perfection. I was surprised at how much I enjoyed the film. Probably due to it not focusing on one or two characters but instead giving everyone their due. It's a great ensemble piece and that includes the minions. Everyone brings something to the table and how it all culminates in the final showdown is a brilliant rollercoaster ride that I would love to see again. The end sets up the next film in the series and if it's even half as good as this one I can't wait to see it.

Don’t you just love it when a film surprises you? And I don’t mean a random cameo near the end, but a full on whack-over-the-head surprise in regards to plot and character development. That’s what 'Lady Macbeth' has in store for you. Let me set the scene.

The year is 1865. Somewhere in rural England Katherine (Florence Pugh) is married off to the son of the man who bought her alongside some land that apparently couldn’t feed a cow. Her husband doesn’t desire her and Katherine is forced to live out her life indoors with nothing to do. When her totalitarian father-in-law and husband take extensive leave from their home Katherine starts to come out of her shell. Coming to the rescue of one of her maids who had been assaulted by male grounds workers, Katherine takes a shine to the leader of the gang, Sebastian. A steamy affair ensues with Katherine’s adultery being her least offending infraction on her way to getting what she wants.

'Lady Macbeth' would not be the surprising crowd pleaser it is without the captivating presence of lead Florence Pugh. She delivers an outstanding nuanced and subtle performance. Witnessing Katherine’s slow awakening and, by the end of the film, full on embrace of everything she is and is willing to do is a marvel to behold. This is Pugh’s first lead role and the entire film rests solely on her shoulders, yet she carries this responsibility with the natural confidence of more seasoned actresses. This young woman is one to keep an eye on.

Cosmo Jarvis does a decent job as Sebastian, but it is Naomi Ackie’s maid Anna who is the real counterpoint to Pugh’s Katherine. These two women tear up the screen whenever they’re in a scene together.

The production design and cinematography perfectly underline the bland existence Katherine is forced into. You hardly notice how the visual presentation influences your mood while watching her living her so called life. She is not even a bird in a golden cage. She’s a bird stuck inside an oxygen deprived house with all exits shut. The claustrophobia was so unbearable that I even forgave her falling for a man who assaults women. On the one hand I was grateful we didn’t have to witness this on screen, on the other I feel this was immediately dismissed as it would have influenced the audience more against Sebastian, who ends up being Katherine’s conscience. Conveniently inconsistent. That didn’t sit well with me at all.
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Katherine’s story comes full circle as she smothers the last obstacle in her way, as she was smothered by life, her husband and father-in-law. Taking that final leap past her point of no return she emerges out of her cocoon a new woman. A beautiful butterfly. A deadly one. 

The performances alone are enough to recommend this film. But when a film manages to play with your perceptions in the vain of 2005’s 'Hard Candy' it makes you think as well as enjoy what you see unfold before your eyes. And it is equally shocking, breath-taking and horrendous. Highly recommended. 

Aside from the cutesy animation, slapstick comedy and every now and then funny dialogue, the film treats us to some entertaining action sequences. Among them Smurf-boarding (welcome to the 21st century), white water rafting and riding a fire-breathing dragonfly into battle. Among others I loved witnessing Clumsy overcome, or more to the point, embrace his clumsiness and use it to his advantage. We might view our traits in a negative light, we can’t all be Hefty, but what makes us special is always a positive thing. This film shows you what boys and girls can do and that none of it is boiled down to your gender. It is a powerful message and for that alone I applaud the film.
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The voice acting is great. I especially loved McBrayer as Clumsy, Wilson as Gargamel and Welker as Azrael. Every scene with Gargamel and Azrael was hilarious. It reminded me of the cartoon series I grew up with, perfectly capturing these two characters and their bickering. They were my favourites back then and immediately turned into my favourites in 'Smurfs: The Lost Village'. How could you not like a character who just wants to be the most powerful wizard ever, with a cool robe and get his full head of hair back?

While the look of the film definitely appealed to me and managed to capture that anime feel really well, I was surprised to see a significantly simplified story with the AI component completely dropped and the ending changed. The film still delivers a coherent, yet more predictable story. Nowhere near as philosophical as the original, 'Ghost in the Shell' has been stripped down to appeal more to the mainstream audience. This is still a tale about identity and individuality. In the world of the story humans, cyborgs and robots co-exist. Some people augment their bodies as much as they can afford to while others prefer to stay pure. What makes us human? Our essence, our soul, our “ghost” is who we are, no matter if it is inside a biological or artificial body.

In the film someone has memories of a wife and kid implanted into his ghost and this is real and authentic to the affected person, even though everyone around him can prove that this data is false. Yet the memory is there, his feelings for people who do not exist are real to him and shape him. So who are we really? Memories? Experiences? Just data? Unfortunately the film doesn’t go any deeper into this. Given how our world is hooked on connectivity, exploring this side of the story could have made for a hard-hitting, poignant exploration of where we as a society seem to be heading. Instead we are given a sci-fi actioner with impressive visuals that feels a bit superficial while being thoroughly entertaining.

The acting is what you’d expect from an action film. We all know Johansson is capable of kicking some serious butt (where is our Black Widow film?!) and she proves this again in 'Ghost in the Shell'.
Why they chose to give her robotic movements is anyone’s guess given Major is supposed to be the first of her kind, a cyborg that can pass as a human. It looks weird at times and makes her come across as wooden. Pilou Asbaek delivers an engaging performance as Major’s sidekick Batou. Michael Pitt makes for an interesting antagonist (I loved his look). Juliette Binoche does all she can with what she’s given. But it is the only non-english speaker in the film, Takeshi Kitano, who gets the trophy for most memorable performance for his role of section 9 leader Aramaki. The characters were well captured from the source material, although only one of them is actually Asian. The whitewashing of the original material needs an essay on its own.

The Eilis (pronounced eye-lish in case you were wondering) we meet at the beginning of the film is a very different person to the one we have grown to love by the end. Unfortunately there’s only so much I can say about the film, it does what it does really well but whilst I like the film I do have to admit that there isn’t anything special about it. The story isn’t particularly original or meaningful, visually it’s clean but not that interesting, it’s just an extremely competent compelling film.

It’s nice that no element of the film feels superfluous and no character is extraneous, which is an overly wordy way of saying there’s never a dull moment with stand out characters such as Tony’s deliberately rude little brother and Julie Walters boarding house mistress bringing a well polished element of comedy. As I say, no inch is wasted and you really feel for all the characters but the film doesn’t excel in any particular area, it’s just good at everything.

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The screenplay, Alisdair Siddons’ very first, has a dynamic rhythm and a fairly clear plot. However while some characters’ relationships really came to life, others, including Colby and Chad’s, felt at times a little nebulous. In a similar manner, Gordy’s place among the Cutlers doesn’t really have much of a narrative impact until the third act of the film, thus making Sean Harris’s lovely performance as the gang’s oddball a little wasted at times. Chad’s relationship with his wife Kelly, flawlessly played by Lyndsey Marshal, was on the other hand completely believable and anchored to the story. Fassbender’s best onscreen chemistry in the film is however with Rory Kinnear, who plays P.C. Lovage, a policeman who seems to have been after the Cutlers for quite some time.

From his very first appearance, Kinnear fuels the screen with the kind of tension any crime film requires. In addition, scenes between the two actors have an energy that makes each move completely unpredictable. As performers they seem to bring the best out of each other.
Another wonderful ingredient in the film are the car chases, which (of course) played an important part in the story. The first one created a very dynamic opening shot. Later, a car stint made as a protest created a playful cop and thieves sequence. The main heist in the film also led to a very good chase with a hilarious gas station stop, and later a gripping manhunt with a few particularly memorable details. Again, the final sequence also delivers in that department, setting up a surprisingly bittersweet closure to Chad’s family story.

Due to the nature of the film, writing more about it would probably hinder the experience of watching it with too many spoilers. So I’d rather not cover more aspects and instead will conclude that though the film might have benefited from a little fine tuning regarding some of the dynamics at play and character development, this was nonetheless a highly entertaining ride with a lively score by The Chemical Brothers. And last but not least, it was beautifully shot by Eduard Grau who, after his fantastic work on 'The Gift' and 'A Single Man', is now someone I will definitely look out for.