Better Watch Out (2017, Dir: Chris Peckover) – ‘Better Watch Out has a more modern axe to grind in the shape of 2017’s biggest trend, toxic masculinity.’ Read the full review here.
Bunny and the Bull (2009, Dir: Paul King) – ‘Bunny and the Bull is a delightfully quirky, extremely well crafted comedy.’ Read the full review here.
Demons (2017, Dir: Miles Doleac) – ‘Demons, written, directed and starring Miles Doleac (The Hollow), is not about demons in the fire and brimstone sense. It’s about the personal demons that stalk us daily.’ Read full review here.
Doctor Who: Twice Upon a Time (2018, Dir: Rachel Talalay) – ‘Surprisingly streamlined and as emotional as you would want it to be, Twice Upon a Time was… brilliant.’ Read full review here.
In This Corner of the World (2017, Dir: Sunao Katabuchi) – ‘Sombre in some moments and bursting with joy in others, In This Corner of the World is a treat for the eyes and heart.’ Read full review here.
Nightworld (2017, Dir: Patricio Valladares) – ‘By the time the film decides to do something interesting, it’s already too late.’ Read the full review here.
Paddington 2 (2018, Dir: Paul King) – ‘Paddington 2 is ridiculously heart-warming. It has no right to be this nice, and loving, and caring, and not come across as naïve.’ Read full review here.
The Survivalist (2015, Dir: Stephen Fingleton) – ‘Equally impressive is the film’s gorgeous backdrop, which, because of its beauty and bold colour, highlights the bleak pantomime playing out before us.’ Read full review here.
‘Anger begets more anger’; that’s the running theme of Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. It’s even spelt out to the audience in the film’s final act via a 19-year-old intern (Samara Weaving), who appears to the only one not effected by the events playing out in her small town. Events set off by one mother’s righteous anger.
Mildred Hayes (Frances McDormand) is that mother, and seven months ago her daughter was violently murdered on a night out. Apoplectic with fury at the lack of progress being made by the local constabulary, Mildred ensures that her daughter’s name won’t disappear into the town’s collective fog of memory. Hiring three disused billboards that run across a small piece of road, Mildred manages to set out her rage in the two-foot-high letters that recount her daughter’s murder, whilst placing the lack of progress firmly on the shoulders of Sheriff Bill Willoughby (Woody Harrelson). Whilst Willoughby takes the accusations in his stride – admitting to feeling impotent in his inability to catch the killer, whilst also battling cancer – Mildred’s stunt causes ripples in the community, including Officer Dixon (Sam Rockwell) and even her own son, Robbie (Lucas Hedges, Ladybird).
Whilst her public accusations are something any bereaved parent would contemplate, it’s clear that the rage percolating inside her threatens to consume Mildred. When the clergy comes to visit, after it’s made clear that her behaviour is making Robbie a victim in his own school, Mildred spits fire and brimstone at the priest until he leaves. There is nothing and no one that will steer her off her path of justice.
Directed by Martin McDonagh (In Bruges), Three Billboards may come as a surprise to those left cold by his last feature, Seven Psychopaths. Mining a similar vein of pitch black humour, there was something uneven about Seven Psychopaths. It felt like a big boy’s club, where women were the punchline. Three Billboards sees the director making amends with a lead character who refuses to be the butt of anyone’s joke. Channelling John Wayne, McDormand is astonishing, managing to be sympathetic whilst being seemingly cruel to those around her. In some ways, she’s a lot like Colin Farrell’s philosophising hitman in In Bruges. A sudden flashback in the film’s opening act, sheds further light on where Mildred is mentally. We often remember the harsh words we say to people, more than the good ones, and McDonagh plays this out in a scene which highlights how Mildred’s rage may actually be aimed at herself just as much as anybody else.
This complexity of character is not just reserved to Mildred, the citizens of Ebbing are also not merely one note affairs. There’s Peter Dinklage’s sweet pool hound, who seems appalled at the suggestion of taking advantage of Mildred in her hour of need, even when he clearly does so. The fact he doesn’t do it whilst stereotypically twirling his moustache and muttering ‘Not all men’ doesn’t make him any less wrong.
Rockwell, who is always great to see on screen, is particularly good as he transforms from a dim-witted, obnoxious and violent mama’s boy, into something much different. It’s a shame we don’t get to see more of Rockwell wrestle with Dixon’s new persona. McDonagh seems quite happy to leave him to his own devices till the film plays out.
Harrelson as the tough but fair sheriff does his best scenes beside McDormand. There’s a real sense of presence between the two characters, who have probably danced to this tune long before Mildred’s daughter was murdered. An interrogation scene between the two manages to elicit anger, laughs and tears from its audience in the space of five minutes; Mildred switching from self-righteous matriarch to soothing mother in a flash.
Whilst the film will likely draw people to it via red band trailers that paint the film as Grumpy Middle-Aged Woman: The Movie, those who come for than just swearing – and there is a lot of swearing – will find a heartfelt portrait of humanity buried in the colourful colloquialisms. Worthy of all the nominations being laid at its feet, Three Billboards is a cracking start to cinema in 2018.
For some, the idea of Paul King, director of The Mighty Boosh, bringing Paddington to the silver screen was a big surprise. It could be argued that the surreal scenarios of the Boosh don’t lend themselves to the quaintness of Michael Bond’s world. However, considering Michael Bond’s world revolves around a talking bear who eats marmalade sandwiches, who’s to say what surreal is any more. Regardless, King is back with Paddington 2, co-written alongside regular collaborator Simon Farnaby, and if possible, it’s even better than the first.
Since the first film, Paddington (Ben Wishaw) has settled into his new life with the Brown family, which is shown rather marvellously in an opening scene which shows the adopted bear helping out everyone he can on his way to the shops. With his Aunt Lucy’s 100th birthday coming up, Paddington wants to get her an expensive, antique pop-up book. Unfortunately, narcissistic actor, Phoenix Buchanan (Hugh Grant) also wants it. Before you know it, the book has been stolen and all fingers point to Paddington being the main culprit. Of course, we all know Phoenix is the real thief and whilst Paddington spends his days behind bars, the Brown family do everything they can to prove he’s innocent.
Like its predecessor, Paddington 2 is ridiculously heart-warming. It has no right to be this nice, and loving, and caring, and not come across as naïve. This is a film where sweet, innocent Paddington wins over a violent criminal called Nuckles (Brendan Gleeson) armed only with a marmalade sandwich. Every part of my cynical nature should be sneering till the cows come home. And yet, it is impossible not be won over by the film. Around this time of year, we’re bombarded with VOD films that tell us to be nice to our fellow neighbours and preach that if we tried a little harder, we could all be happy. Paddington 2 is the only film this year where I genuinely believe it could happen.
Perhaps it’s hope on my part, but it wouldn’t hurt the world to be 1% like it is on screen. Whilst Peter Capaldi’s immigrant-hating neighbour returns, the world of Paddington is largely untouched by Trump and Brexit. People help each other, not because they’ll get something out of it, but because it’s the right thing to do. And in turn, someone will one day help them. It’s not the worst message to be spreading at Christmas – or indeed at any time of the year – and Paddington Brown is by far the best person to relay that. Paddington for Prime Minister!
We’ve all reached that point in our lives when it feels like we’re going nowhere. The wheels are spinning, but a lifestyle of lethargy and apathy act like an anchor. The reasons can sometimes be a lack of money, insufficient experience to get a job or, in the case of Bunny and the Bull’s Stephen Turnbull (Edward Hogg), an unending fear of the very worst things in life happening. Stephen has crippling agoraphobia and not left his flat in months, which has become an altar to unshakable depression and OCD. When some mice threaten his usually rigorous daily routine, Stephen finds himself beginning to reminisce about the events that led to his present day situation.
The catalyst for everything appears to be a man called Bunny (Simon Farnaby). Aggressive, confrontational, bawdy, a billy bullshitter and Stephen’s closest friend, Bunny convinces him to go on a trip to Europe and it’s this trip that makes up the bulk of the film’s narration.
Paul King (The Mighty Boosh/Come Fly with Me) provides a novel approach to Stephen’s flashbacks, which in hindsight, is reminiscent of the latest adaptation of one of Tolstoy’s classics. Joe Wright’s Anna Karenina was set firmly within the confines of an abandoned theatre. Wright was suggesting the text’s protagonists are never true to themselves or each other. Merely aping emotions and putting on a front. The artificial meets reality. Similarly, Stephen’s adventures with Bunny are constructed out of the contents of his own flat. Takeaway cartons contort into restaurants, forests spring from cardboard and the sky fills with newspaper snow. If the hero refuses to leave his flat, then neither shall the story. It produces the effect of someone trying to pick their way through their memories, creating a hazy recollection that isn’t quite true. In the same way, Levin, Anna Karenina’s only realist, leaves the theatre, Stephen’s memories only start to be realistic when he comes to terms with the root of the problem.
Finding the deeper meaning in all this may seem a bit much, knowing that Bunny and the Bull is supposed to be a comedy. But like all the best comedies, it’s successful because of this dark field in which it pitches its humour. In this instance, a young man’s potential insanity. When the laughs come, they are wonderful. From eating his bodyweight in seafood to more life threatening risks, Farnaby’s Bunny refuses to bow down in the face of any adversity and comes across like a mean-spirited Homer Simpson. On top of that there are unsurprisingly comedic turns from Noel Fielding, Julian Barratt and Richard Ayoade who have all collaborated with King in the past.
Bunny and the Bull is a delightfully quirky, extremely well crafted comedy that has a real heart and speak to anyone who feels, like Stephen, they’ve come to a stop.
It’s Christmas and teenager Ashely (Olivia DeJonge) has a lot to unpack at present. As well as boyfriend trouble, she’s having to deal with moving out of her home town after the holidays. Trying to recoup some sense of normality, Ashley offers to do one last babysitting gig looking after 12-year-old Luke (Levi Miller). For Luke, this is fantastic news due to the long-held crush he has on Ashley, and is ready to break into his parent’s spirit cabinet if it’ll prove to her how grown up he is. The evening has all the trappings of a terribly awkward night in, and that’s before the phone lines are cut and a home invasion leads to Ashley and Luke running for their lives.
Like McG’s The Babysitter, Chris Peckover’s Better Watch Out cleverly upturns the standard babysitter in peril trope. Whereas the former threw some good old-fashioned devil worshipping into the mix, Better Watch Out has a more modern axe to grind in the shape of 2017’s biggest trend, toxic masculinity. From the opening scene – which sees a cackling boy violently destroy a girl’s snowman simply for his own enjoyment – we know we’re in a world where the needs of women come second to men. So, pretty much exactly like the real world then…
For another example, look at Luke’s crush on Ashley. In other films, in other decades, his behaviour would be brushed off with a ‘boy swill be boys’ attitude. He confides in his friend, Garrett (Ed Oxenbould), that his evening’s plans of a horror film and pizza should be enough to get into Ashley’s pants. After all, he read it on the internet, dude, you can believe everything you read there. The parallels to teenagers learning about sex through watching online porn are clear, and once Ashley must push back Luke’s advances no less than three times in five minutes, his behaviour is seen as anything other cute. But it’s not just about dismantling the cloying idea of a boyhood crush; even later, once Luke’s has been invaded, someone is shot trying to escape and the killer is revealed, Better Watch Out continues its spearing of male privilege with Ashley expected to defend her body from verbal and physical attack.
Performances are key here, and starting off larger than life DeJonge and Miller allow theirs to be stripped down by the reality of the situation, their festive and joyful expectations worn down by the societal norms that plague them every day. So, again, pretty much exactly like the real world then…
Whilst admittedly restrained in terms of flashy direction, Better Watch Out succeeds by offering something other than nubile teens running around in tight t-shirts.
John Noonan 