Cert – 12, Run-time – 2 hours 21 minutes, Director – Travis Knight

After 15 years, HR worker Adam (Nicholas Galitzine) returns to his home planet to find it nearly destroyed, the prince of Eternia must lead the fight against its scourge, Skeletor (Jared Leto).

Travis Knight is living out his childhood fantasies. With his live-action projects, outside of Laika, he’s made his action-figures and Saturday morning cartoons bigger and grander, while keeping the same imagination and spirit of adventure that was undoubtedly present when making up storylines as a kid. Masters Of The Universe feels like a feature length version of the sequences in Toy Story films where we see the fantasies in Andy or Bonnie’s mind before fading in to the child gleefully running around their bedroom.

There’s a self-awareness to this 2020s take on He-Man and co. Keeping some of the 80s style in tone, and score with Brian May helping Daniel Pemberton’s score, there’s a self-awareness to the film, acknowledging character names as the summaries of a ten-year-old trying to remember his homeland (aside from Skeletor). Names such as Ram Head and Fisto are heard with a raised eyebrow as Adam (Nicholas Galitzine) returns to his home planet of Eternia after 15 years on Earth, growing up and working in HR whilst trying to find the sword he lost on the way.

Perhaps the biggest sign of the film’s tone and style is in arch-nemesis Skeletor. Voiced by Jared Leto, sounding like Jemaine Clement, there’s a petulant attitude to the character who knows he’s the villain, knows he’s evil and enjoys being just that. Managing to feel like a threat while still effectively shaking his fist at the returned prince of Eternia and making frustrated exclamations. Just a few steps away from simply shouting “I’m going to get you He-Man!” this iteration of the character is pure 80s cartoon villain and he, and the film, are all the better for it.

While the fantasies on display could be trimmed closer to two-hours than two-and-a-half there’s still a solid entertainment factor to them. A consistent sense of family entertainment landing the right kind of PG-13/ 12 rating to prevent a dive into silliness or unfitting ultra-seriousness. Travis Knight is in touch with what this film should look and feel like, as are co-writers Chris Butler, Dave Callaham and Adam and Aaron Nee. The imagination on display in the bringing to life of Eternia and its medieval meets futuristic feel is treated with seriousness in order to capture that sense of fun.

There’s a sense that He-Man is very much a product of the 80s, it’s kept in the film yet the action and certain bits of self-awareness – 4 Non-Blonds get a more than welcome needle drop, one of many which bring a smile to the face – are present to help bring things to the modern day. It’s part of the overall enjoyment of the film and the fun there is to be had with it. When mixed with the action, with its own mixture that fits into the setting with both weapons and ships, a double-bladed ship is particularly cool; and suspenseful, there’s a good deal to like about this updated throwback that lives in the minds of those who at heart are still creating adventures with their cherished action figures.

A live-action action-figure adventure that’s self-aware but not silly, with enjoyable action and some good chuckles there’s consistent family entertainment within Masters Of The Universe which sees it through even a stretched run-time.

Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 38 minutes, Director – John Carney

After spending an evening jamming and sharing ideas with former boy band member Danny Wilson (Nick Jonas), wedding singer Rick Power (Paul Rudd) discovers Danny has turned one of his songs into a hit, with no credit to him.

The marketing for Power Ballad has been significantly present yet consistently feels as if it’s being passed by. Perhaps hindered by the fact that it appears to be advertising a different film to the John Carney written and directed musical dramedy. As with Carney’s previous features, the heart is in the music; much of which, for the original songs, he has a hand in, and the relationships the characters have with it.

How To Write A Song (Without You) is a deeply personal song for wedding singer Rick Power (Paul Rudd), lead of the even-better-named The Bride And Groove. Since leaving a band and settling down in Ireland with his wife (Marcella Plunket) and teenage daughter (Beth Fallon) he’s continued writing music, but originals don’t go down well with wedding crowds who want the throwback rock hits – all of which are subject to some of the most egregious lip-syncing since The Greatest Showman. Yet, he’s never quite been able to finish How To Write A Song, until a jam session one night with former boy band member Danny Wilson (Nick Jonas), attending a wedding Rick is playing at. The pair exchange ideas and spend time at the piano or on guitars and go their separate ways. Until Danny’s struggling solo career takes off and How To Write A Song skyrockets, without any credit to Rick.

After initial surprise and joy at the success of his song, without any credit Rick starts to become bitter and angry, slightly resenting the lack of success he’s had over the years. Yet, even here Carney manages to maintain a heart to the music, reminding us of where it initially started for Rick and what the song means for him compared to Danny – particularly shown in the performances of the closing stages. It might seem the film is uncertain as to where it’s going to end, or indeed how it wants to, although for me the very final scene just manages to save things with a neat enough wrap.

You can feel the warm hearts that Power Ballad was made with both in-front of and behind the camera. It helps to boost it during some of the slightly more saccharine moments or those that feel like they’re slightly drifting. The original songs have a likable nature, with the central track proving to be an earworm a good few days afterwards, and there’s a knowing nature to the snippets of rock classics which crop up, too. Rudd makes for, as you would expect, a likable lead and mixed with Carney makes for a film with enough likable energy and entertainment value to see things through and then some. Add in some welcome chuckles, particularly from Rick’s bandmate Sandy (co-writer Pete McDonald), and there’s an easily engaging, light and enjoyable ride, led by the music and leaning into that strength.

Successfully led by the music, Power Ballad is best when focusing on that and the relationships characters have with it. There’s a likable nature to the film and its performances, with a light heart throughout and a satisfying ending wrapping up right at the last moment.

Cert – N/A, Run-time – 1 hour 31 minutes, Directors – Brandon Scott Smith, Derek Sullivan Smith

A team from Nuuk travel to take part in Greenland’s annual major football tournament, where conditions mean that training and gameplay are confined to three months.

The score to No Place For Football, often lead by some simple guitar, brings to mind moments from Ted Lasso. After first thinking this the players of team B67 from Nuuk, Greenland point out the similar looks of one of their key players and Jason Sudeikis’ titular coach from the hit series. Indeed, ‘Believe’ is a key point of this documentary following the team training and making their way towards the annual tournament that brings together eight of Greenland’s biggest teams at the end of the three month season, just before the snow returns – icebergs and snowy peaks sit directly next to a number of pitches in quaint, colourful towns and villages.

Yet, directors Brandon Scott Smith and Derek Sullivan Smith don’t view the team as underdogs. They have a chance and are going to fight for it, particularly against their biggest rivals. Successes and losses are viewed with support and cheers from behind the camera as a story of teamwork and perseverance is naturally formed through the outlooks and attitudes of the team. Even amongst the worry that the tournament will go on with or without them, it’s an uncertain boat or plane journey to get there and cancellations are common.

Beyond B67 there’s a view of football in Greenland as a whole. Once described by Sepp Blatter as being no place for football due to the weather conditions the players of various teams are adamant to show how good Greenland can be, and that it has a place on the world stage. While we hear of the rivalries between Greenlandic teams there’s a unity to their broader push to the rest of the world.

Regardless of world standings, or even if losing as local teams, there’s a celebration to the documentary of simply going out and having fun. Whether playing or watching, a spirit of competition is present; passion fills many of the themes and conversations during the brief 91-minutes we spend in the company of B67 and Greenland’s three-month football season. The on-screen environment, even though allowing for a grassy pitch, may suggest a chill but there’s plenty of warmth emitting from the attitudes of the central team.

I’ve likely mentioned in previous reviews that my knowledge of football, and sport in general, is paper thin; but, as with many great films and documentaries, that doesn’t matter in the case of No Place Like Football. It’s about the heart and determination of those on screen, what they want to prove and achieve. The team at the centre of the film are all likable and their story of perseverance, going out and enjoying playing and indeed the light touch of Ted Lasso style belief, see things through with admirable passion and spirit.

A look at national and team-based pride and perseverance, alongside the joy of simply getting out and playing, No Place For Football is a warm, welcoming look at determination, not without its Ted Lasso-esque beats.

Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 50 minutes, Director – Kane Parsons

After falling through a wall in his furniture store, Clark (Chiwetel Ejiofor) explores an endless maze of almost empty office-like rooms, bringing more people in as the few unexplained contents, and creatures, start to attack.

YouTube channel Kane Pixels’ viral series The Backrooms played into the internet’s fascination with liminal spaces. An extending space, quiet in content and atmosphere which captures a sense of calmness, yet unease growing behind you; as if anything could creep out from around a corner and lurch its way towards you as you’re stuck in the static of the often dim, grainy image. In feature form, the director and story creator, credited under real name Kane Parsons, strides with the most confidence of the extended scenes roaming around the extensive series of almost empty office-like rooms.

Having fallen through a wall in the basement of his struggling furniture store, Clark (Chiwetel Ejiofor), explores the never-ending titular space with fascination and perplexity. Signs and sofas similar to those in his store appear to glitch through the floor and ceiling, there’s a feeling that the backrooms are alive, trying to copy the world on the other side, and eventually itself. It’s mentioned that its behaviour is like trying to draw a picture of a dog having only had someone describe one to you, another comparison would be to the off-kilter confused repetition of AI.

Parsons leans into the psychological both narratively, with screenplay written by Will Soodik, and stylistically. Diving into a world that seems so familiar but doesn’t make any sense. Haunting and unsettling, with an equally uneasy score by himself and Edo Van Breeman. It starts to leak into the real-world scenes, an emptiness and feeling of repetition to the streets and houses we see, think 2019’s trippy entrapment horror Vivarium. Mocked by the set-up of the various stages of the Backrooms themselves. It’s a point brought up in the unfolding narrative, largely in the final stages after Clark has dragged more people (including his therapist, Mary (Renate Reinsve) into the Backrooms, often confronting the suspenseful creatures shrouded in shadows yet still striking plenty of fear.

The wrap-up may not prove satisfying to everyone, especially with how brief it might seem, although it certainly sticks in the mind afterwards and when reflecting there’s a good deal going on thematically beyond the style and upfront horror at hand. Making the most of uncertainty in the wake of what should be familiar – wonderfully captured by both Reinsve and Ejiofor. The feeling that there’s something lurking around the corner, or in the centre of the frame – one of the first incidents in a dark, angle-shifting room seems to show a head (real or mannequin) buried amongst a pile of clothing. Parsons excels in these moments, letting the environment speak for itself and play with the audiences’ minds at the same time. Pushing our quiet, unsettled interested in liminal spaces by expanding them in the same endless maze of rooms.

Experiment or not, Backrooms is at its most unsettling when pushing through the off-kilter liminal spaces of the titular world. Perhaps thematically strongest afterwards, the ending might divide, but there’s plenty of successful fear and suspense beforehand in a living world of confused repetition and possible monsters.

Cert – 12, Run-time – 2 hours 12 minutes, Director – Jon Favreau

In order to capture a former Galactic Empire commander, bounty hunter The Mandalorian (Pedro Pascal) and his young apprentice Grogu must rescue the fight-pit-champion son of Jabba The Hutt (Jeremy Allen White).

After seven years away the return of Star Wars to the big screen has been made to seem less and less big the nearer it’s gotten. Despite a range of TV series, with varying receptions, there’s uncertainty as to how this feature outing for one of the first and most successful of those series will perform, or if there’s even appetite for it. The film itself certainly feels less grand than initial expectations may have expected, screenwriters Jon Favreau, Dave Filoni and Noah Kloor changed plans for a fourth series of The Mandalorian and adapted them into this adventure for Pedro Pascal’s titular bounty hunter and young apprentice Grogu (a delightful bit of practical puppeteering whenever on screen).

Indeed, the feeling of a condensed series is present throughout much of The Mandalorian And Grogu from the base plot of obtaining information about a target by fulfilling a demand by another group. The points in question see The Mandalorian sent to find a mysterious former Galactic Empire commander, the whereabouts of whom are unknown apart from by the Hutt clan who are willing to hand over information for the return of Jabbas son Rotta (a fight pit champion voiced by Jeremy Allen White). Along the way additional tasks crop up and you can see the divide between segments that would almost end and start each episode in a series.

There are certainly stronger moments and sequences throughout, the action varies and while some moments can feel full of spectacle others can feel a bit messy – Mando claims multiple times to the Colonel who sends him on missions (played by Sigourney Weaver, who appears to be enjoying being in a Star Wars film as much as we do seeing her in one) that the job got messy. In the early stages the sound and visuals are fantastic. Ships and AT-ATs blowing up, cliff-edge fights; there’s a reminder of just how great Star Wars can look. Both in the sense of the finale of Rian Johnson’s The Last Jedi and the costumes and sets of the original trilogy. Especially in the fluid action-based opener which sees the two leads at work, however as things developed and the narrative from Point A to Point B via Point C and D and the consequences of Point C it became apparent that what I was focusing on more were the visuals over the story at hand.

Even as the climax is being built towards, the stages of the battle at hand started to draw out and test the run-time. At around 2 hours, not including credits, the film feels much closer to two-and-a-half. There may be plenty of sights and genuinely unsettling creatures; the likes of which I don’t remember seeing in a Star Wars film before, made for the big screen but there’s only so far such things can take you, especially when what these visuals collect into can seem quite dull. An extended sequence focusing on Grogu going off on his own slight tangent seems to rely on the appeal the character has and the occasional exhales of amusement he provides, it’s ineffective as a bigger point for a prolonged amount of time and simply feels like, unfortunately, unnecessary padding.

I’ve seen the TV series labelled a number of times as a space western, if so there’s not as much of that tone here as certainly there’s an attempt for a film that’ll work for more casual viewers, and slots into a slightly familiar Star Wars tone – although with some differences, largely courtesy of Ludwig Göransson’s score which captures some traditional John Williams-esque tones while bringing in a couple of intriguing techno-style tracks; especially when visiting a metropolitan city, featuring an amusing role for Martin Scorsese. Perhaps that tonal change is the biggest one made for this filmic adventure for the likable lead pairing, aside from making trims to a series outline to fit into a 2-hour feature. For a film that has so much to impress visually, much of what’s around it often feels, while amusing, dully lax.

While it has a good number of solid action sequences and leans into the likability of the titular pair, The Mandalorian And Grogu has drawn out periods of disconnect within its condensed series narrative that not even the visual spectacle and detail can bring excitement to.

Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 28 minutes, Director – Ben Wheatley

A temporary sheriff (Bob Odenkirk) finds it difficult to leave a small, peaceful town as he found it when it seems the population is hiding a deadly secret.

As temporary sheriff Ulysses Richardson (Bob Odenkirk) tell us in his opening monologue that he plans to leave the sleepy town of Normal, Minnesota exactly as he found it you know exactly what kind of film you’re in for. Thus begins Nobody meets Hot Fuzz. Screenwriter Derek Kolstad had conversations about Normal with Odenkirk, who receives a story credit alongside the writer, before production on Nobody and there are similarities between Ulysses and Hutch Mansell. However, Ulysses truly doesn’t have special, military-trained skills and finds it best to keep out of things as much as possible. A parking ticket is less a fine and more a note telling someone to park better.

It’s the kind of law enforcement that fits in in Normal, at least on the surface. It isn’t long until Ulysses discovers a secret the town is hiding, and it seems everyone is helping to cover it up and protect it. The unveiling comes in the form of a bank robbery, from there the action is almost non-stop as Ulysses investigates Normal’s Yakuza links and fights off the people trying to defend it.

The action has the improvised nature of Nobody, although without John Wick-esque skills and swiftness. There’s a well-tracked messiness to the scraps and weapons used as part of them. Gelling with the main character, and the town at hand, yet Odenkirk still sells himself as a, perhaps still unconventional, action star. One who’s consistently entertaining and pushes the action and the humour found within it. In the director’s chair, Ben Wheatley gives a knowing nod to the oblivious, although growingly suspicious, outsider in a small town humour, of course with feelings of Hot Fuzz throughout.

There’s a familiar but still amusing nature to the first half build-up, but once things truly kick off and we’re faced with various stages of fights – with both the police station’s armoury, equipped with C-4 explosives (apparently purchased after a budget allowance following 9/11), and a nearby kitchen coming in handy. It’s pure entertainment and moves quickly through its narrative, clocking in at just 88-minutes including credits – much like Nobody, getting in and out with very little fluff. There’s a self-awareness to the film, both in regards to its humour and how Ulysses is presented as an almost reluctant, but dutiful, hero and as the pure entertainment actioner that it is. Not trying to hide its influences for both screenwriter and director there’s a fun time with plenty of thrills, spills and winces that feel perfectly in place with the style of the film and, thanks to a Yakuza opening, an avoidance of over-escalation as the threats grow and shift.

A fun, self-aware actioner in the vein of Hot Fuzz and Nobody, Normal leans into Odenkirk’s action and comedic abilities with plenty of spark and entertaining fights and weapons leading its short run-time to fly by, even amongst the familiar beats of the first half, which hold their own light enjoyment.

Cert – 18, Run-time – 1 hour 49 minutes, Director – Curry Barker

After using what he believes to be a novelty item to wish that his friend will love him more than anyone else in the world, Bear (Michael Johnston) finds himself trapped by Nikki’s (Inde Navarrette) desperate, increasingly manic, love.

Inde Navarrette’s turn in Obsession will undoubtedly be this year’s performance that we all point to as being undeservingly ignored and snubbed across the awards board simply because it’s in a horror film. Her character Nikki’s pained, manic devotion to Michael Johnston’s Bear grows into a red, jealous rage. Jealousy of anyone who gets the opportunity to speak, or even look, at him, and fury that he’s somehow able to not love her as much as she does him.

Her screams become more frequent and louder, creating a deafening fear throughout the room which echoes into the silences after. They’re often directed towards Bear, a consequence of him wishing on a One Wish Willow that his friend would love him more than anyone else in the world. However, what he believed to be a novelty product has real effects and takes over Nikki, who we see him struggling to ask out in the film’s opening stages, into a figure only recognisable on the outside – although, not to him; this is what he wished for, initially.

Bear’s own creepiness is somewhat intermittent. It’s certainly present as he falls into the control that his wish has taken over Nikki, and at various stages throughout where he appears more relaxed, but it perhaps isn’t as prominent as the film might want it to be – although themes of abuse and control are certainly present throughout. Much of the terror, however, comes from Nikki. The more intense her displays of love are, or it seems the real Nikki makes a brief appearance back in her own body, the more Navarrette dials her performance beyond eleven.

Yet, it’s also through this focus that Obsession’s biggest problem lies. It still has an effect, and works well – if I did half star ratings it would be a perfect example of a three-and-a-half star film – but after a while can start to feel slightly samey when it comes to how it views the central relationship, taking a while to properly start to escalate them, although doing so rather well in Bear’s third act panic. There’s less a feeling of repetition or cycling from the narrative and more that it’s at risk of becoming stagnant for a good chunk of the second act – with occasional unsettling bursts coming along to break out of this, although not entirely sustained.

It’s a shame because when Obsession strikes with its intensity, largely courtesy of Navarrette and the dark, looming score behind a number of her most sinister moments. There’s a loudness to Curry Barker’s film in terms of volume, intensity and just how it throws itself at you with a lot of intentionally in-your-face fear. Trapping you in a corner on a number of occasions with its frenzy. I just wish that those moments sometimes lasted a bit longer or leaked into the next moment, largely during the mid-section, slightly paddle-balling, but really popping at you after rebounding.

A film with truly fearful intensity, largely thanks to Inde Navarrette’s fantastically manic performance, Obsession may threaten to become stagnant around the middle, but still has bursts of threat and terror, and the tension of its ramped-up ending.