Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 35 minutes, Director – Genki Kawamura

A man (Kazunari Ninomiya) finds himself trapped in a cycle of almost identical subway corridors, having to spot anomalies in order to get out.

It feels cheap to refer to an enjoyable single-location indie flick as having a gimmick. I’ve long-enjoyed low-budget films that pull off a clever narrative concept with what little money they have – think of genre titles such as Cube, Buried or the $7,000-budgeted Primer. Exit 8 slots right in amongst those as we spend time in a set of almost identical subway corridors, following Kazunari Ninomiya’s Lost Man as he tries to escape.

He’s told by a sign in the opening stages to continue if there are no anomalies, and turn back if there are. Each successful corridor brings him one step closer to exit 8, each failed one sends him back to level 0. While some changes are a poster or wording on a sign, others involve blood dripping from the ceiling or uneasy interactions with a character credited as Walking Man (Yamato Kochi).

Co-writer (alongside Kentaro Hirase) and director Genki Kawamura, adapting Kotake Create’s 2023 game The Exit 8, has stated that with the film he wanted to focus less on supernatural horror as a repetitive, boring lifestyle can be just as terrifying. There may not quite be terror in Exit 8, although it best fits in to the horror genre, but certainly eerie moments and a solid amount of tension in the wake of The Lost Man’s fear he may never escape – especially with the more difficult to notice changes.

We’re not entirely playing on, the film’s not asking us to. The focus is on the fear at the centre of the film, and the ways in which the corridors repeat and play with those travelling through it – we see perspectives of others who have been caught part way through. It’s here that things don’t quite get repetitive, events are largely well-contained with enough engagement in the situation to stretch to just over 90-minutes, but certainly show signs of slightly losing steam.

Additions are made without feeling like grabbing for an idea to keep things going, they fit in and work for the narrative at hand. In fact, here such points seem to help things along and hold engagement in the characters and the growing tiredness they feel at the sight of shining white walls, each reflecting the light from each other and above. The setting is well captured and used with each corner turned, level advanced or restarted – with each step successfully avoiding the feeling of a video game declaring ‘level up!’ or otherwise.

What we have here is a solid, occasionally tense cycle that leans into that factor without feeling numbly repetitive. Things might show signs of steam being lost around the halfway point as we shift perspectives, but there’s still plenty to like in the low-budget genre fare on display. One that utilises what it has with likable effect and avoiding feeling gimmicky.

A likable low-budget horror that leans into its repetition without feeling boringly so. Utilising its ideas and bringing in additions that don’t feel like overkill, there’s solid tension occasionally cropping up to help see the central character’s panic through.

Cert – 12, Run-time – 2 hours 7 minutes, Director – Antoine Fuqua

Michael Jackson (Jaafar Jackson) rises from the control of his abusive father (Colman Domingo) to create his own music and become one of the biggest selling musical artists of all time.

Whilst Michael Jackson (Jackson’s nephew Jaafar Jackson) thinks about his entire life before he goes on stage one of the first things he reflects on is how multiple people refer to his vocal talents as a God-given gift. Only later does this come into full fruition as at a key turning point for him and his career he looks to his bodyguard (KeiLyn Durrel Jones) and starts to speak as if he genuinely believes he’s Christ. The biopic of the King of Pop appears to believe that he can do no wrong, everything is an iconic and motivational moment. Whilst sidestepping some conventions there are still on display as we see the rise to independent success of not Michael Jackson, or even Michael, but Generic Musician Biopic Protagonist.

With some form of producing credit for most of Jackson’s surviving family there’s a smear of sanitisation from start to finish. To the point that there seems to be nothing personal on display for the titular icon. Not in terms of controversies and accusations about Jackson which have plagued the film’s production and build-up to release (and many early reactions to it, too) – early versions of the film dealt, according to producer Graham King in “unbiased” manner, with accusations of child sexual abuse until legal clauses, one which forbade any mention of one of Jackson’s accusers in the film, led to rewrites and reshoots in 2025 – but simply in terms of personal feelings about almost anything. To call the film Michael may be to get across how famous he became, that we know who he is from just his first name. In terms of what we see on screen it’s a signifier of just how utterly bland he and his story are made to seem.

Conventions are worn before they’re even properly tread. Colman Domingo tries to give something to Jackson’s abusive father and childhood (young Michael is played by Juliano Valdi) manager during his time with the Jackson 5/ Jacksons, but with how one-dimensionally the scenes are written even he struggles to create an emotional hit. Instead, the film wishes to focus on the music. A series of concert performances and general creations of songs moving from one to the other with a growing feeling of ‘if they like the songs they’ll like the film.’

The more performances or recreations of music videos we get the more things start to feel as if they’re meant to sell music rather than properly tell a story of the artist, or what inspired some of their biggest songs – the closest is a slight spark towards the start of a sequence about Beat It which quickly delves into another strand about how great a dancer Jackson was. Jaafar Jackson gives a solid enough performance and certainly has the moves, his uncle’s vocals are dubbed into musical performances, but doesn’t have the screenplay to create any emotion.

Things move along for two hours with increasingly bland style. Overfamiliar and played far too safe, as if afraid to mention anything negative at all. The more music is put at the centre rather than Jackson himself the more disinterested the film feels in him, or actually telling a story. It simply likes his music. It’s much like Jackson’s connection to Peter Pan, cartoons and classic comedy like Chaplin or the Three Stooges. We see him picking up the former multiple times throughout the film, having read the book – or rather enjoyed looking at the pictures – since childhood, but his connection seems very surface level and unexplored, the name Neverland seems to be more striking than anything to do with the place itself. With Michael it’s the name of the artist and his music that seems most striking for those behind it rather than who he was as a person.

A bland set of conventions with very little in the way of personal story for the central figure, the focus of Michael is solely on the name and music. You could get more insight, and just as many tracks, listening to a greatest hits album.

Cert – PG, Run-time – 1 hour 36 minutes, Director – Max Walker-Silverman

Rancher Dusty (Josh O’Connor) reconnects with his family after losing his home in a wildfire, and discovers a found family in an emergency camp for those in similar situations.

It can be difficult to find hope, or a sense of place, in the world at the moment. Yet, of all places right now, one of the most touchingly hopeful pieces of cinema I’ve seen for a long while has come out of America. Amongst hardship and knockbacks, Rebuilding is about people connecting, coming together and helping each other. It’s about kindness.

Dusty (Josh O’Connor) is living in a mobile home in an emergency camp for those who have lost their homes in a wildfire. His hopes of returning to ranch and farm life are dashed by the fact that the land won’t be able to grow anything for years. His attempts to connect with his young daughter, Callie-Rose (Lily LaTorre), are often knocked back as she talks about her mum’s new partner when Dusty can’t even provide Wi-Fi in his current circumstances.

Yet, in each strand there’s a consistent sense of hope. People helping each other and offering a hand. Familial connections are establish with both found family in the camp and reconnecting with ex-wife Ruby (Meghann Fahy) and mother-in-law Bess (Amy Madigan on very different form to her recent Oscar-winning turn as Weapons’ Aunt Gladys). Each performance and gesture throughout rebuilding is packed with subtlety. It’s a film of thought, of people having to behave and think in the moment; thinking about how to build back but what will happen to what they build when the next fire comes along.

I was truly struck with lump-in-the-throat emotion watching writer-director Max Walker-Silverman’s film, apparently inspired by his own experiences. O’Connor in the lead role, as many would expect, is excellent capturing the subtlety of trying amongst exasperation. Clinging on to the last bit of energy that he has, before being pulled up by those around him. Community and support are key to his journey, both that which he displays and that from those around him.

The film itself is quiet and gently paced, just over 90-minutes and not exceeding its run-time at all. It’s a world I could have spent so much more time in, direct from the American indie scene. In a landscape that’s used to showing themes of isolation and struggle, there’s a calmness in the film’s encouragingly spirited nature. A genuinely emotional aspect to the film that observes our connection with people and life, alongside what we hold close and when. I left with a positive, stirred feeling; a faith in humanity. It’s been a long time since I walked out of the cinema like that.

On the surface, not a great deal happens in Rebuilding. Yet, the affecting qualities and different familial connections, spurred on by a set of emotionally responsive performances, make for 90-minutes of truly hopeful cinema.

Cert -12, Run-time – 1 hour 39 minutes, Director – Brian Cox

Donal (Alan Cumming) left Scotland 40 years ago, returning when he hears that his brother’s (Brian Cox) health is in question. However, tensions between the pair throw the future of the family whiskey distillery into uncertainty.

Brian Cox has played a great number of sinister, dark and angry figures throughout his career. Of late he’s become almost synonymous with his sweary character of Logan Roy in Succession. For his directorial debut, given to him by co-writer David Ashton who has written Radio 4 series McLevy which Cox stars in, the actor plays a much lighter, at times cuddly, figure in a film that itself borders on whimsical.

The plot beats have been seen plenty of times before as estranged Donal (Alan Cumming) returns home to the village of Glenrothan, Scotland after hearing of his older brother Sandy’s (Cox) possibly declining health. However, the village, and the family whiskey distillery, now 200 years old, bring back bad memories of the life Donal left behind, and re-establish familial rifts between the siblings. Whilst his daughter (Alexandra Shipp) and granddaughter (Alexandra Wilkie) relax and spend time with their uncle, Donal traipses around the streets and woodland, smoking whilst engaging in unwanted reflection as old faces – largely Shirley Henderson’s master distiller Jess – start to lead him to confront his relationship with Sandy.

There’s a light humour cropping up every now and then which brings in a couple of good chuckles that help to see things through. It’s part of the overall likable nature of things as they pass by with generally little trouble. We’ve seen the outline of the film plenty of times before, but there’s enough within Glenrothan to hold it up for just over 90-minutes. Musical sequences, Donal owned a jazz bar in Chicago before it burned down, may feel like slight tangents aside from everything else, even if they’re ways of CUmmings’ character connecting with his homeland and those around him. Still, there’s an air to them that allows for this to be forgiven as they can be enjoyed in the moment before moving back to the rest of the film.

Glenrothan is a rather sweet, sometimes a little too much, film that’s almost wholly on the surface. And there’s not necessarily anything wrong with that, and for the most part, while there might be some noticeable issues (the film appears to be largely shot in the brightest of daylight, even during the evening sometimes, to highlight the beauty of the Scottish landscapes, even when in a back garden or dining room). It’s one where you can likely tell the plot from a brief synopsis over the first 15-20 minutes. Yes, it may hinder things somewhat, but there’s enough present that’s presented with enough likability, and pride in Scotland, to see things through.

We may have seen Glenrothan plenty of times before, and it might sometimes get a bit saccharine, but there’s enough likability in the love for Scotland and light humour on display that the sweetness generally lands the right effect.

Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 47 minutes, Director – Peter Farrelly

Brad (Mark Wahlberg) and Elijah (Paul Walter Hauser) secure and then lose a major World Cup sponsorship deal for a condom company. Things go from bad to worse when they fall in with a drug gang after causing the host country to lose the final.

After winning the Best Picture Oscar for The King’s Speech Tom Hooper moved on to tackle Les Miserables even before Cats. Yet, Cats still makes some sense as a major film to tackle after winning one of the biggest prizes the film industry has to offer. Whatever you may think about Green Book, it, too, managed to secure Best Picture, and director Peter Farrelly’s career appears to have been going back towards the comedies that he started out making with brother Bobby. While The Greatest Beer Run Ever and Ricky Stanicky gained generally admirable receptions his latest streaming feature; Balls Up, which finds itself landing quietly on Amazon Prime, will undoubtedly be one of the worst films of the year.

Star Mark Wahlberg has turned against Boogie Nights more and more over the years, talking about his regret over taking on the role of porn star Dirk Diggler due to his faith, and family. Faith and family, however, don’t get in the way of him playing out a scene where his character forces a condom, with additional pouch for testicles, stuffed with cocaine down his throat. The scene in which this happens isn’t a short one, either. It’s one of many extended moments that feel around ten minutes too long as things go from bad to worse for two former condom marketing employees.

Wahlberg’s Brad and Paul Walter Hauser’s Elijah are fired after securing and losing a deal for their brand of condoms to sponsor the Brazilian World Cup. Yet, tickets turn up for the final and when getting drunk during the game one runs into the pitch and accidentally loses the game for the host country, causing the population to turn against the pair. From there they run in with a drug gang led by Sacha Baron Cohen (whose performance is largely ‘he’s doing a voice’) and have to try and escape every overlong situation they find themselves in. Each drawn out in both the edit and Zombieland and Deadpool duo Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick’s screenplay; as if trying to bleed the driest of stones of any humour before giving up and having to scramble to move on to the next skit.

For just under two hours I sat bearing through multiple jokes about condoms or drugs, or both, as the film’s humour opens with Wahlberg showing anatomical diagrams of a penis and vagina to a group of executives as part of a pitch meeting. At no point did I come close to laughing during what becomes an increasingly monotonous attempt at crude humour. One that can’t really be labelled as gross-out or any other kind of comedy sub-genre, maybe farce could fit the film but the frantic, layered events you would expect from this are certainly not present here. Instead, crude appears to be the main focus, and it doesn’t take off much beyond that, aside from forcing its attempted jokes on you, as if shouting not to compensate for the lack of laughs but as if part of the joke is shouting.

Dullness and frustration combine for a truly enjoyable experience. One which makes Green Book (which I liked) seem delicately subtle in its approach. One can only assume that in a few years time Wahlberg will also come out to express regret over this role too, and this time not just because of his family and faith.

A dismal near two hours of laugh-free gags that feels that crude shouting is enough to see through multiple unfunny situations, all of which are forced on too long. This is a balls up far beyond just name.

Cert – 18, Run-time – 2 hours 13 minutes, Director – Lee Cronin

When their missing daughter is found after eight years, having been trapped in a sarcophagus, Charlie (Jack Reynor) and Larissa (Laia Costa) confront demonic attacks and goings on from the girl (Natalie Grace) who has returned.

Writer-director Lee Cronin has walked the indie chiller with 2019’s eerie The Hole In The Ground, and the up-to-eleven splatter fest of Evil Dead Rise. For his third feature he leans more into the supernatural and possession horror of the latter with the creepy child vein of his debut. Yet, his take on The Mummy feels lost in a mainstream studio vein. Only brief glimpses of his directorial style come through, and not even in the 18-rated blood and gore as such instances largely have little effect. One or two shots looking at practical effects can induce a small shudder, but for the most part there’s nothing anywhere near to the cheese-grater attack in Evil Dead Rise.

However, the biggest issues of Cronin’s film is in his screenplay which cycles through the same routine for much of the overlong narrative. Parents Charlie (Jack Reynor) and Larissa (Laia Costa) have spent eight years grieving their daughter (Emily Mitchell) after she was kidnapped in Cairo. However, when she’s found after a plane crash, trapped in a sarcophagus and wrapped in bandages (and now played by Natalie Grace), she’s taken back to the family home in Albuquerque, bringing some demonic goings on with her. All whilst Egyptian police (largely portrayed by May Calamawy) investigate Katie’s disappearance, and what happened to her.

Characters come in and out of the narrative, including a lecturer (Mark Mitchinson) investigating ancient script found wrapped around Katie, and each seems to strike a different tone with their scenes. It makes for an uneven film that starts to throw everything at the wall the more horror comes into play, particularly in a chaotic third act where nothing really sticks. Even before this a strange set of events sees the possession break out into a quiet gathering, where nobody questions the fact that the ceiling right above the buffet is falling apart with a ghoulish child crawling through it, or that the youngest of the family is casually pulling out her teeth.

There’s little impact or edge from what we see on screen, which consistently feels toned down from being as insane as it occasionally hints that it wants to be. Not on the same level as an Evil Dead, but certainly something with a more sinister and itching style to what we’re presented with here. When not pushing away a sense of boredom I couldn’t help but fight the feeling that this was a film that wanted to be more, wanted to do more and be that bit more intense but was being held back by something, and in this case it felt like a studio – the film is largely pushed under the production houses of producers James Wan and Jason Blum.

With just how much is going on and the different characters who jump in and out of the narrative the structure starts to feel jumbled, and makes the 133-minute run-time feel just that way. Starting to drag, especially as it tries to wrap up its various different threads individually, and starts to explore different endings. It all feels a bit messy and in search of itself, with only a few brief, crawling insights into a more fearful horror.

A jumbled, tonally uneven narrative makes way for only brief glimpses of effective creeps in a film that feels dampened by a poor script focusing on repetitive events which lean more generic than gruesome.

Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 34 minutes, Director – Ian Tuason

Paranormal podcast host Evy (Nina Kiri) looks after her mum (Michelle Duquet) during the day and records with co-host Justin (Adam DiMarco) at 3am, however a series of mysterious ghostly recordings start to plague her even more than tiredness.

Undertone is upfront about the fact that it’s going to be playing with your mind, and how. Telling us about how the mind can hear things that aren’t there in recordings, especially when reversed, there’s a lot in the reversed audio tracks which crop up throughout the film. It’s also about hearing these tracks alone, and the creeping feeling of a darkened room.

Evy (Nina Kiri on great form) sits alone at a dining room table, microphone connected to her laptop and on Facetime to her friend Justin (Adam DiMarco – who we only ever hear). They have a paranormal podcast where believer Justin tries to convince sceptic Evy of ghostly occurrences and existence. When sent an email containing ten mysterious recordings the pair play them and try to work out what’s happening, however as they’re whittled down ghostly goings on start to happen around Evy.

Already tired from recording at 3am after a day looking after her bedbound mother (Michelle Duquet) she starts to hear noises around the house, and the feeling that she’s not alone crawls further into frame. Kiri is often positioned as a small figure in an empty-feeling room, dwarfed by the surroundings and dark corners of what should be a familiar environment. However, there’s little comfort to be found. The more we hear of the mysterious audio that starts as a couple (the voices of Keana Lyn Bastidas and Jeff Yung) innocently trying to prove that one talks in their sleep the more uneasy, and eventually fearful, things become. Writer-director Ian Tuason, alongside the precision of the sound team, creates a chilling, genuinely tense horror.

Escalation is done bit by bit and yet with a fast pace to perfectly fit in to the 94 minute run-time. The increase in unease and fear is consistent throughout leading to a finale that may not strike for everyone, and could well come across as uneven in its presentation, but certainly lands an effect in the very final stages. One that fits in with just how things have ramped up over the course of the rest of the film. I was taken in by Undertone and its creeping developments; well-tracked by the general progression and pacing of the narrative, and clips that we hear played for the podcast. It’s a stripped-back horror that plays with your mind and ears, and let’s you know it upfront.

A film that visually and audibly creeps up on you through the effectively grown developments, Undertone is a chilling horror that lands a real effect from what might not even be there.

Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 51 minutes, Director – Jim Jarmusch

Three separate families try to cope and connect through varying degrees of distance and estrangement.

The performances of Father Mother Sister Brother are a key part of its success, the most important factor of them is how they work hand-in-hand with Jim Jarmusch’s observation. His camera looks on, and sometimes over, at three interactions between different families all trying to cope with distance, estrangement and loss. Words are struggled for, whether through grief, awkwardness or regret. The silences hang thick, the attempts to find something to say wish for it to be brought back. It’s a film of gentle, natural sorrow at the familial situations on display, yet one that avoids downbeat drudgery.

The three segments feel almost perfectly ordered to become more compelling and affecting than the last. Brother and sister Jeff (Adam Driver) and Emily (Mayim Bialik) visit their elderly father (a fantastic Tom Waits) in his shabby home, making various toasts as their check in becomes a reluctant reconnection while questioning how well he is these days. Mother (as Charlotte Rampling’s credit simply reads) prepares an annual afternoon tea for her two daughters Lilith (Vicky Krieps) and Timothea (Cate Blanchett), the conversation is kept to pleasantries about how good the tea tastes and somewhat forced interest in the goings on of each other as at least one daughter is looking for an easy escape. There’s a very wry humour to some of the reaching attempts at conversation. Unease sits in the room with the three as they silently acknowledge a tradition that has almost always been like this.

Then, siblings Skye (Indya Moore) and Billy (Luka Sabbat) roam Paris talking about memories of their parents who passed in a plane crash, before going over old photos and possessions. Their segment closes the film with tenderness and care. It’s an open dialogue that grows over the roughly half-an-hour we’re in the presence of their characters, almost revelatory compared to the lack of proper discussion that’s come from the characters in the previous two interactions. The actions and moments themselves have said a good deal, but the characters at least verbally not so much until this point.

Yet, Jarmusch continues to remain observant as director. So much of his latest set of vignettes is about what isn’t said, whether through not being allowed or simply not being able to, rather than what is. The cast wear so much behind their faces, in their eyes and pauses that speaks volumes and makes for an engaging and interesting drama about estranged families all looking for different forms of connection. The pacing is slow, only really impacting the first story which certainly feels more like set-up the more things go on, including call-backs to beats and dialogue in the pair that follow.

Feeling the emotions of the characters may not be the case, it might not be intended to be, but there’s still something to be felt in both the interaction and lack of it throughout the film. One that, even with the slow pacing, passes by rather easily thanks to the engagement with the situations at hand. As each is examined without the feeling of an intense dive, the moments are allowed to naturally exist and play out as they are. Making for awkwardness and comfort to feel even more the case. All calmly and empathetically observed by Jarmusch and the audience.

An observant, empathetic look at estranged familial relationships, from the distant to the healing there’s a lot said in what isn’t said here, with help from a set of fine performances the segments grow and get better as the film goes on.

Release Date – TBC, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 24 minutes, Director – Daniel Everitt-Lock

Documentary looking at the environmental and human impact of nuclear weapons testing, and the campaigns for recognition for those who have been affected by it.

There’s a good deal of footage put into the 84-minute run-time of Our Planet, The People, My Blood. From talking head interviews and news clips to old public safety reels, cartoons and historical footage there’s a lot put in to try and show the responses to nuclear weapons testing, and the effects that it’s had. The problem is, much of the weight there is comes from the interviews and the details we hear described rather than old images used to back them up, which the film could do with less of.

Starting out as a film about the environmental impacts of such testing, and how it’s affected the health of those who have been near to it across the world, it moves into showing the campaign made to MPs to recognise those whose lives were negatively changed by such tests and weapons. In these stories the film finds its biggest call. It feels most enthused and gives its biggest push to the sequence of events that focuses most on this.

There’s still a push to the details building up to this, looking at the personal affects and losses that the subject matter has caused individuals and their families, there’s interest and a sympathetic emotion from the documentary towards those displayed by the people featured in it. Certainly, getting a number of perspectives from around the world helps it along, and covers different views and impacts. It just feels that occasionally they can get somewhat overpowered by the images that are placed over them. Every now and then they work, but the more they’re used the less effective such inclusions become, especially when the effect on a landscape is being discussed, for example.

Luckily, the figures we see talking on screen and campaigning have a passion and drive that helps to see things through. Their stories and lives are the focus, and when the film properly gets this in gear it finds its stride and moves forward with a solid push to see it through.

While there might be a bit too much historical footage and images overpowering the words being said, when Our Planet puts the focus on those at the heart of the campaign and matters at hand there’s an interesting documentary with a handful of working pushes.