Oh. What. Fun. – Review

Cert – 12, Run-time – 1 hour 48 minutes, Director – Michael Showalter

Claire (Michelle Pfeiffer) works every year to give her family the best Christmas possible, when they forget her on the way to a Christmas Eve event she ditches them for the big day to appear on her favourite show.

Claire (Michelle Pfeiffer) wonders why so many Christmas movies are about men, particularly dads, trying to give their families the best Christmas possible. Especially when it’s always the mums putting in the effort to make Christmas Day as smooth and wonderful as possible. Where are the films about them? Thus begins Chandler Baker and Michael Showalter’s (who also takes on directing duties) agitated greeting card of a film.

Claire’s family (including children Felicity Jones, Dominic Sessa and Chloë Grace Moretz), and their partners (Jason Schwartzman, Devery Jacobs), all gather together to celebrate another Christmas. Bickering ensues followed by jabs increasing tense and strained relationships and the stress Claire is facing as her family largely seem to ignore her, and her bid to have a better, more unifying Christmas than the family across the road, who we see harmonising carols together. However, when her family forgets her on the way to a Christmas Eve dance show, Claire gives up, abandons Christmas and drives to appear on a special Christmas Day edition of her favourite show.


Every year Eva Longoria’s Zazzy Tims invites families to put their hard-working mums forward for a special competition to celebrate them on the show. Despite Claire’s pushes none of her family applied. It’s another layer of hurtful ignorance from them. Pfeiffer’s narration and performance hammers home with the subtlety of a sledgehammer the idea of how unrecognised she and many other mums are at this time of year. That not even a simple ‘thank you’ is heard. It appears that Oh. What. Fun. is a film made for people who feel like Pfeiffer’s character, as if to be put on in front of their families, watched with arms crossed and occasional glances at said family with the feeling of making a disgruntled point.

There are one or two chuckles throughout, mostly courtesy of Jason Schwartzman wandering through the corridors of his mother-in-law’s home, but as the film goes on attempts at laughs start to be surrounded by the forced messaging and lost amongst it. Despite attempts from some of the supporting cast, and occasionally amusing moments, there’s just no escaping the fact that the film devolves into a thematically repetitive thank you card. One seemingly led by the person it’s presented to, and perhaps from, and so brings about a cycle of self-congratulation from Claire in her bid for appreciation from her family. Leaving no room for festive sentiment which could have eased the edges of the film and it’s somewhat hostile lead character.

A sledgehammer of a self-addressed greeting card, Oh. What. Fun. struggles to create laughs the more lost it becomes in its own messaging. Some festivity and sentiment are sorely missing.

Rating: 2 out of 5.

Tinsel Town – Review

Cert – 12, Run-time – 1 hour 34 minutes, Director – Chris Foggin

Egotistical actor Bradley Mack (Kiefer Sutherland) is stuck doing tired action sequels until the call to do theatre in the UK comes in, only for him to discover it’s a small town panto.

For those unaware of the UK tradition of panto, each December (and into January) theatres across the country will dial the camp up to 11 for tongue-in-cheek productions of often fairy tales with slightly raunchy gags and plenty of audience participation (mention panto and you’ll likely be met with a ‘oh yes it is, oh no it isn’t’). The cast of productions in your local town theatre will often be led by musical stars now doing reunion circuits, daytime TV personalities and the occasional comic. It’s often jokingly referred to as the circuit you go to when your career is on the decline. It’s also where action star Bradley Mack (Kiefer Sutherland) finds himself after accepting a theatre gig in the UK, having finished production on the nth sequel in a tiring franchise.

Having slept the whole taxi ride to the village of Stoneford, Mack finds that he can’t get out of the show that he thought would be Macbeth at the Globe; having to pay the substantial losses the show would face if he weren’t to appear as Buttons in Cinderella. His egotism and unwillingness to properly participate, alongside acting for film rather than stage, causes frustrations for the cast, director (Meera Syal) and dance director Jill (Rebel Wilson, with truly dodgy northern English accent to match a performance of someone who seems to have only been told the rough details of what panto is).


Jason Manford and Asim Chaudhry appear as seeming comic relief within the comic relief, portraying the actors playing the ugly sisters in the production. Often making the same jokes off stage that they would on, and truly being in the panto spirit. They raise an occasional chuckle thanks to their display of characters, and the film, slightly relaxing and embracing the panto spirit and its lightness rather than trying to sentimentalise it as the rest of the film does. A scene that sees Sutherland perform It’s The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year in the performance space, gradually bringing other cast members into his growing song and dance routine, is a generally calm but enjoyable sequence that acts as one of the film’s unforced festive highlights.

Where things falter are in the treading of cliché throughout the surrounding narrative. From difficult family relationships, Brad wants to see his daughter (Matilda Firth) who lives in London with his ex-wife (Alice Eve) and her partner (James Lance), both of whom see panto as low-form humour, while Jill, whose daughter is in the production, battles her ex (the second festive outing this year after Christmas Karma, and third film of 2025, for Danny Dyer) who also wants his child to spend Christmas with him in London. Such strands seeing the adults bickering and facing their personal familial issues raise a lot of familiarity and such moments simply feel crowbarred in to the surrounding elements, to force home the saccharine beats when things start to wrap up.

While there are some aforementioned chuckles there are plenty that are also laboured and falter simply because of how familiar and overdone they feel. Contrasting with the aims and surroundings of panto by the film seemingly not noticing its own obviousness. It causes Tinsel Town to stumble as a film that could be perfectly fine and amusing if it wasn’t for it appearing to miss its own pushed point and appearing more overdone than sentimental and little proper embracing of the panto spirit it wants to capture.

When it lets loose and embraces the panto spirit Tinsel Town is a perfectly enjoyable festive flick, however as its various plot strands push an overdone sentimentality they counter that feeling and cause the laughs and overall film to falter.

Rating: 2 out of 5.

Kill Bill: The Whole Bloody Affair – Review

Cert – 18, Run-time – 4 hours 35 minutes, Director – Quentin Tarantino

After a massacre on her wedding day, including her unborn baby, The Bride (Uma Thurman) wakes up from a coma and immediately seeks revenge against the man (David Carradine) who tried to kill her, and his gang.

The delight of Kill Bill isn’t in the complexity or bloody intensity of its action sequences, but the few details we get of the world in which its set. Gangs are gangs, antagonists are antagonists and The Bride (Uma Thurman) is out for maximum revenge. Lucy Liu’s O-Ren Ishii leads a Japanese criminal gang, meeting with multiple major bosses, and the biggest draw of this insight into the criminal underworld is the simple style and flare of the club location in which the events take place. Tarantino’s camera tracks multiple bodies walking and dancing around to The 5,6,7,8s as The Bride preps her attack.

What ensues is perhaps the bloodiest sequence of the entire film – now released as one piece, as close to Tarantino’s original vision as possible, after having been cut into two on original release at the demand of producers claiming otherwise the film was too long. Bringing in entertainment value from its over-the-top blood-flow from cut limbs and homage to samurai and martial arts films. Boosted by the soundtrack, which helps a number of the action sequences throughout the run-time – itself assisted by an intermission – the action throughout often works best the less bogged down in replication it seems, a feeling which somewhat bookends the film, and the more interested it is in homage.

As The Bride whittles down the members of the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad, who attacked the church she was holding her wedding rehearsal at, killing all there including her unborn child. After waking up from a four-year coma after being shot in the head she sets out for revenge, working her way towards leader, and former lover, Bill (David Carradine). I’ve never exactly considered Kill Bill to be Tarantino’s best work, and always found Vol 2 to be weaker than the first half. On seeing the film as a whole while I still stand by both points I certainly see I’d underrated the film and also the second half works a good deal better, and without as much of a sense of build-up, as part of The Whole Bloody Affair. Yet, what I’ve truly failed to notice before is just how great David Carradine is as Bill.


Carrardine brings a consistently sinister threat to any scene he’s in. Even during casual conversation – itself hinted with formal worry – or when appearing cheerful Bill’s opening insistence that he’s not a sadist, but a masochist, echoes into every word he utters. The different perspectives of the wedding massacre itself, never explicitly showing the events themselves, are easily associated with him and immediately show the threatening, merciless force he presents.

There are different sense of threat to a handful of the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad we see cropping up throughout. Whether separately or dealing with each other for the most part they successfully wind in to the revenge story at hand. Ishii’s backstory is seen in a new anime flashback which while perhaps unnecessary is nonetheless entertaining and could have stood alone as its own short, or even film, but holds its head up whilst sitting within this work. Meanwhile, an exchange between Darryl Hannah’s Elle and Michael Madsen’s Budd has plenty of bite and provides more entertaining detail into the workings of these characters in this world while never feeling the need to be weighed down or extended by context, everything we see is what we get, and all we need – and Tarantino understands this.

Thus, in his 4-and-a-half-hour-plus revenge story he largely only presents us with the story and all we need to help move it along. Detail comes from the exchanges throughout. And, often, the best scenes are those more focused on dialogue and interactions that show off character behaviour – The Bride arriving in Okinawa in search of the best sword she can find leads to plenty of seamlessly moved into ideas. Each with a familiar tone that fits right into the story that Tarantino is telling. Allowing for scenes and chapters to lead from one to the other with relative ease and little drop of engagement throughout – apart from, still, some of the opening stages of the second half as we focus on Budd’s life after the harsh glimpses of the wedding massacre. While still holding its moments and effect it seems to be generally slower than the rest of the piece as you wait for Thurman to creep up, sword in hand(s); ready to spill blood.

We’re constantly reminded in Thurman’s performance of her anger, determination and pain, all also helping to propel the film and her character’s mission forward. Forward through the long but well-maintained run-time that holds your engagement thanks to the pieced together details provided by the narrative and the world in which everything is set, naturally unfurling in a flow that occasionally matches that of the blood spraying from severed limbs.

Who would have thought that Tarantino’s fourth film would have worked best as intended? Kill Bill: The Whole Bloody Affair shines on the big screen both in and out of action as the world naturally grows and provides the needed details to keep The Bride and her revenge moving in entertaining, occasionally brutal, fashion.

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Five Nights At Freddy’s 2 – Review

Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 44 minutes, Director – Emma Tammi

A year after the events at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza the animatronics are back, upgraded and out for revenge on the adults of the nearby town, under the control of a force trapped in the original restaurant.

After almost immediate box office success a sequel to 2023’s Five Nights At Freddy’s was announced. Along with it mention that the follow-up would lean into the horror more, after responses to the first film said that it needed to be scarier. Indeed, whilst still maintaining a PG-13 rating in the US and a fitting 15 in the UK, it seems that these calls have been listened to as the quickly-turned-around sequel puts more emphasis into the creeps and doesn’t get distracted with attempts at tonally conflicting laughs as with before – although there are a couple of good chuckles here and there.

A year on from the first five nights spent at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza now-11-year-old Abby (Piper Rubio) is missing her animatronic friends, eventually travelling back to the abandoned restaurant. However, when discovering the original location where the Freddy’s chain started she discovers upgraded animatronics which need her help to leave the building. However, once free there may be something more in the restaurant controlling them, seeking revenge on parents in the nearby town.


The force in question is the new arrival of the Marionette. A figure which the more we see of it manages to become creepier with how it attacks those who come near it. Uncovered by a group of young paranormal investigators, led by McKenna Grace, with Abby’s brother, and former night guard, Mike (Josh Hutcherson), alongside Elisabeth Lail’s Vanessa, uncovering the truth and trying to fight back, and protect the town. Inside the restaurant, where it seems that certain instances involving Hutcherson’s character behind a desk may be leaning more into the style of the games (of which I still know very little about), there’s a sense of sustained threat and tension that manages to leak slightly into the events outside Freddy Fazbear’s.

Things may be narratively tangled with one too many plot strands piled on top of each other, alongside the ending feeling a bit too brief as an effect of focusing more on building up an inevitable sequel, but there’s still light amusement to be found in the events at hand. Events which while busy I’d be lying if I said they didn’t go by quickly, and in large part that’s likely down to the consistency in tone throughout. Upping the creepiness and making sure to draw it out in a couple of key scenes that play into the mechanics (not quite literally) of the animatronics the most. We see old iterations of the figures of Freddy, Bonnie, Foxy and Chica – worn out, torn apart and with multiple rows of teeth – they’re only lightly seen, but there’s something quite effective about them when they’re used to jump up in the darkness of office confines.

The end result of this sequel may not be perfect, especially as it almost seems to turn into a bridge film to an as-yet-unannounced third instalment, but it certainly shows the creatives (namely director Emma Tammi and writer Scott Cawthon – taking sole credit for the screenplay this time) have listened to the responses from last time and actually taken them on board. And it makes for a pacier, creepier time that leans into the antagonistic side of the animatronics, and the forces behind them, by maintaining the threat at hand, and slightly stretching that PG-13 limit.

While still narratively busy, Five Nights At Freddy’s 2 is a step up from the previous entry, focusing on the stretches of tension and creepiness thanks to a more consistent tone throughout, even as it starts to focus more on the next instalment rather than its own plot.

Rating: 3 out of 5.

LFF 2025: La Grazia – Review

Release Date – 20th March 2026, Cert – 12, Run-time – 2 hours 11 minutes, Director – Paolo Sorrentino

President Mariano De Santis’ (Toni Servillo) term is coming to an end. As he looks back on his career he worries about life, legacy, party and people.

“Your term is about to come to an end, Dad. When will you ever decide anything?” Mariano De Santis’ (Toni Servillo) term as Italian President has been one of safety. Boring and unswayed from the party line, which has made most of his decisions, for years his unknown-to-him nickname has been Reinforced Concrete. Never leaning towards anything that might be deemed controversial or divisive. Documents which would legalise euthanasia in the country sit on his desk throughout the film, his mind split with the personal and political ‘what if’s’ whenever he looks at them.

Legacy is at the core of La Grazia. Like age has done for De Santis the feeling on looking back on life and a career in old age creeps up on the film. As the final days of the latter approach for the central character Servillo’s performance becomes more reflective and somewhat downcast, especially in the wake of the conflictions at play. Will his legacy be defined by his party or what he’s done for the people of the country that voted him in, and is doing something for the people just to boost his image really doing something for the people?


As such themes are explored the satirical humour throughout starts to diminish. In the fist half the tone of La Grazia is somewhat unexpectedly funny. There are a number of chuckles to be found as the grandness of the presidency is contrasted with the tightly-kept and bland form of De Santis, although the character himself isn’t bland to the viewer. You can see the thoughts and conflictions flip-flopping through his mind at each moment, even when confronted with the prospect that his late wife cheated on him many years before, with him trying to find out with whom of his friends, and staff.

La Grazia translates to ‘grace’ and in many ways the film is about trying to achieve that. As an image seen by others, as a way of feeling or coming to terms with the past and indeed feeling about oneself and decisions. Writer-director Paolo Sorrentino deals with a number of these ideas gracefully, with the help of Servillo’s strong central performance which much of the film revolves around.

The weight, like the decisions of De Santis, is on his shoulders and he carries it successfully. A tale of ageing and final days, confronting and doing the right thing as part of them, and simply making your own decisions without the burden of thought for critical responses or the party. A number of these are subtly dealt with and work hand-in-hand with the ideas at the heart of the film which itself is an amusing and well-balanced piece of work.

Toni Servillo brilliantly carries La Grazia’s themes of ageing, legacy and final days through the chuckles of the first half and the more solemn second. Thematically mirroring the changing mindset of the central figure.

Rating: 4 out of 5.

LFF 2025: If I Had Legs I’d Kick You – Review

Release Date – 20th February 2026, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 53 minutes, Director – Mary Bronstein

Linda (Rose Byrne) is struggling to stay afloat, looking after her sick daughter (Delaney Quinn) as their home falls apart, while her therapist (Conan O’Brien) doesn’t seem to take her seriously.

Linda is dead behind the eyes. It’s a look that Rose Byrne has mastered in If I Had Legs I’d Kick You. Hers is a performance that, alongside the film as a whole, understands the feeling of being depressed and tired and empty. The world is piling down on her and she’s struggling to stay afloat. The posters in her office, where she works as a therapist, reading “it always seems impossible until it’s done.” seem desperately unencouraging.

For Linda, ‘it’ relates to her whole life falling apart – much like her home. The ceiling of one of the rooms in her apartment has fallen in causing the place to flood, moving out until it’s fixed, a time that appears to be constantly pushed, into a nearby motel. With her husband (Christian Slater) away, she’s left to look after her young, ill daughter (Delaney Quinn – never properly seen, only heard). As she tells her own therapist (a withering, dramatic turn from Conan O’Brien) about how everything seems to be closing in on her, barely staying afloat, she’s met with an unsympathetic response.


The pressure at hand, and Linda’s increasing lack of energy to deal with things as she’s pushed and pulled in multiple directions, leads to a number of difficult-to-watch scenes. Whether missing meetings at medical centres or one instance where she’s talking to a client of hers over the phone unease creeps in, further fuelling the breakdown that appears to be central to the film. There’s an underlying fear and tension to almost everything that happens once the elements are set up, even hidden behind the dark humour which raises an occasional scattered chuckle. This mixture of tones, all accompanying the psychological drama at hand, caught by Byrne’s increasingly exasperated performance – unquestionably deserving of the awards attention that’s been quietly growing over the last few weeks.

“I’ll be better, I promise I can be better” she tells herself as much as anyone else. She wants to try and wants to be better, but at the same time needs some form of break and escape. Just a moment to lie down. However, these can create further problems down the line. Writer-director Mary Bronstein’s screenplay could enter into territory similar to The Lost Daughter, or the anxiety of Uncut Gems, but successfully avoids it by focusing on the constantly tired yet trying attitude that Linda has, and not involving historical regret.

A state that’s captured in the overall tone and style of the film and grows the tension at hand. The worry for other characters who trust in Linda, partly stemmed through her own want to help. And yet, the world and everything that could possibly cause further anxiety and worry continues to beat down. Everything leads to more trouble and mental exhaustion with little help or listening ears. This is a film about tiredness and emptiness that’s got plenty of weighty spark in its ideas.

Perfectly capturing a tired depression, Rose Byrne commands If I Had Legs I’d Kick You as her character struggles to stay afloat in a film that manages to do so amongst a lot of tense worry from multiple angles.

Rating: 4 out of 5.

LFF 2025: Redoubt- Review

Release Date – TBC, Cert – TBC, Run-time – 1 hour 25 minutes, Director – John Skoog

The peak of the Cold War, farmer Karl-Göran (Denis Lavant) sets to work building a protective shelter for him and the nearby village. However, the more it grows the more isolated and ridiculed he becomes.

The Cold War creates two worlds in Redoubt. That of fear faced by farmer Karl-Göran (Denis Lavant) as he sets about creating a shelter for himself, and that of everyday life for the nearby village, who with every day that passes without a nuclear strike he expands his build to include as many of as possible. The local children run through the muddy fields that he carries scraps of wood, metal and tires through telling him how they’re gathering materials for their own fort. It’s these children who take the most interest in Karl and his efforts, and he seems to spend more time with them than anyone else in the unwelcoming landscape – captured in dark greys of black and white – before isolating himself more and more as his shelter expands.

Lavant’s performance is a very quiet one. The more isolated his character becomes the greater the weight he appears to carry is, his worry of nuclear war growing with each day – leading to further isolation as the young men in the village ridicule him, especially when the shelter becomes his home. It’s as these comments start to come into play, almost around halfway through the film, that Redoubt starts to gain more substance and we find more of an emotional connection with Karl, alongside a growing fascination with the shifting forces that are propelling him.

Co-writer (alongside Kettil Kasan) and director John Skoog maintains a restrained sound and image to the film. Karl’s shelter gradually becomes less a fort as the children view it and more an impenetrable fortress, as if designed to keep the rest of the world out as he still builds it for that world. Housing himself in cold and darkness so no radiation can get him when the, to him, inevitable arrives. It takes some time for things to get going as the slow pacing, and minimal dialogue, establish the relationships at play. And while it’s initially engaging to simply see the construction happening, albeit it not with the overhanging feeling of threat or dread which doesn’t appear to be a major factor of the film as a whole, it takes some time to properly form an emotional connection, despite Lavant’s stone-faced performance.

Without an overhanging dread, it takes some time to form an emotional connection with Denis Lavant’s quietly-performed, weight-carrying character. But, as we see more of those around him, and the well-captured build and landscape grow, there’s a connecting intrigue in just how things will develop.

Rating: 3 out of 5.

Eternity – Review

Release Date – 5th December 2025, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 54 minutes, Director – David Freyne

Joan (Elizabeth Olsen) dies and arrives at The Junction, where she has a week to decide where to spend eternity, and whether to spend it with decades-long husband Larry (Miles Teller) or first husband Luke (Callum Turner) who died young and has been waiting those decades.

A mark that can cringe-inducingly age a film even before release is the dialogue trying to replicate the way the screenwriters believe young people speak. Throwing in forced, outdated slang without a full grasp on what any of it means – with even the audience in the same pool knowing that the thrown-in phrases don’t quite fit in in the way used. The same can be said for older characters, if not written as being comedically out-of-touch and improperly using not-quite-modern slang.

Joan (Elizabeth Olsen) and Larry (Miles Teller) have passed away within a week of each other. They arrive at The Junction, a 70’s-style lobby full of apartment towers and stalls promoting different afterlives, and are given a week to decide where to spend eternity. The catch being they aren’t allowed to leave where they choose once decided, or else they’re thrown into ‘The Void’. The pair appear as they were when happiest in life, yet still speak like the elder versions of themselves we see in the opening scene (played by Betty Buckley and Barry Primus). Patrick Cunnane and director David Freyne’s screenplay, albeit with one or two slight bumps, really captures something in the way the characters speak and come across as characters who indeed spent decades on Earth, especially together, while have a long-burning frustration at the situation they find themselves in.


A situation largely caused by the arrival of Joan’s first husband, Luke (Callum Turner), who died in the Korean War – Turner has a natural look about him that would fit right into the 40s and 50s – and has been waiting 67 years for Joan to arrive. Having maintained something of a youthful spirit as the years have weathered away at him inside if not entirely outside. Therefore, Joan is tasked with decide which husband she wants to spend eternity with while Larry and Luke bicker and feud with each other over her affection. Largely observed by Afterlife Coordinators Da’Vine Joy Randolph and John Early; both bringing about a number of laughs throughout, in addition to the array of worlds available – from Beach World and Mountain World to Mall World and the eternally full Man Free World, with Studio 54 and 1930s German club (now with 100% less Nazis) themes, too.

For the most part Eternity manages to breeze along thanks to how invested it is in the central dilemma facing Joan. You can almost see Olsen coming apart with the push and pull she finds herself trapped between. With the central cast all giving strong performances, particularly Teller whose mannerisms show an inner conflict and doubt at each and every turn, it’s easy to engage with the central question as the fight to spend eternity with her plays out. It does lead to an overly busy final 30 minutes as the question truly dominates everything and starts to lean into a tangle of pros, cons, uncertainty and fear of regret for all involved. As we start to see more of the different worlds at hand, and the lives of the three when they were alive, the run-time starts to be felt.

Yet, there are still a good number of chuckles to be found and engagement in the ways in which the afterlife at hand works. It helps that for the most part the film plays into the lightness and humour and doesn’t feel as if it’s asking big existential questions – Larry states a good way through that he hasn’t even pondered the meaning of life once since he died. Such points are more present in the third act where you can feel the weight of them playing into the pushed run-time and overall tone. But, largely thanks to the performances and the focus on the nature of the dialogue – the screenplay is one aspect of Eternity that really doesn’t seem to have gotten the commendations that it deserves – the film keeps its head above water as we follow the old souls in the effectively compacted confines of The Junction.

There’s effective detail in the dialogue and performances of Eternity which capture the old souls at the heart of it. With enough laughs to see it through its heavier set of conflictions there’s an engaging push to the core question throughout and the design of the world in which everything takes place.

Rating: 4 out of 5.

LFF 2025: The Testament Of Ann Lee – Review

Release Date – 27th February 2026, Cert – 15, Run-time – 2 hours 15 minutes, Director – Mona Fastvold

The 18th Century, after a life of tragedy Ann Lee (Amanda Seyfried) spreads her religious Shaker movement from England to America, becoming a figurehead for those who follow, and threaten, her.

The Testament Of Ann Lee is a frustratingly restless film. The Shaker movement the titular character (played by Amanda Seyfried) spreads from the streets of Manchester to its own, God-directed land in pre-revolution America sees people overcome by God’s power and start shaking, convulsing in song and dance. Yet, even their jerkily waving movements feel more calm than the film they feature in. One which bursts into snippets of songs so brief that it feels as if this apparent musical has no proper musical numbers; making Joker 2 look like a wall-to-wall song-and-dance bash.

The longest track repeats the phrase “I love mother” over and over again, after having followed a conversation about false gods. The more it went on I found myself genuinely wondering if it was going to turn out that Ann Lee was a major cult leader. The more the film revolves around her and she becomes a noted leader – multiple synopses for the film have stated that her followers view her as a female incarnation of Christ – the more cultlike it all becomes, and I don’t entirely think that’s the intention. The voiceover throughout (courtesy of Thomasin McKenzie, who appears later in the film) is telling a grand, historical story, even if it occasionally sounds like it’s coming from Philomena Cunk; “they went in search of a wide avenue called Broad Street.”


It’s one of a couple of unintentionally humorous moments in the film, the other being an extended sequence which sees characters trying to find where to build the Shaker town – “paradise through toil and chastity” – guided by an index finger seemingly moved by God. But, aside from Mr Hucknall’s magic finger (gifted unto him by God) there’s little levity throughout this film – co-written by Brutalist writers Mona Fastvold (who also directs) and Brady Corbet, who both have slight musical experience having worked on 2018’s Vox Lux. The Testament Of Ann Lee simply falls flat and feels like a very slow trudge through each event. No matter how much is going on it all simply feels boring.

After being told about a series of births and subsequent bereavements we see a near-montage of this panning out, making it clear that this is going to be a downbeat film. Instances relating to Ann’s marriage to Christopher Abbott’s Abraham and abuse faced come into play, although feel somewhat brief when they are amongst everything else that’s thrown towards the titular character – who Seyfried does her best to keep determined and, more importantly, afloat for the sake of the film. With just how much is going on and what’s also thrown at the audience it’s difficult to work out who this film is for. It feels confused and directionless and rather than targeting a lot of people at once it doesn’t quite feel as if its targeting anyone.

The whole thing is all rather bland and dour. With the titular character seemingly coming out of it through how people seem to have viewed her rather than as herself, being caught up in the perfect image created by the Shaker following that we see grow over the long run-time. The Testament Of Ann Lee eventually feels less like Ann Lee’s personal testament and more it told through the eyes of the devout Shakers, meaning that a lot eventually gets caught in what’s attempted to be shown and in the end perhaps has the opposite depiction and impact. Either way, it all feels as cut up and conflicting as the bursts of song and the fact that this seems to want to be a musical.

Much like the bursts of song throughout, The Testament Of Ann Lee feels jumbled and detached. A long, boring slog where the Shakers feel increasingly cult-like it’s very difficult to know who this is really for.

Rating: 2 out of 5.

LFF 2025: The President’s Cake – Review

Release Date – 13th February 2026, Cert – 12 Run-time – 1 hour 45 minutes, Director – Hasan Hadi

90s Iraq, nine-year-old Lamia (Baneen Ahmad Nayyef) is tasked with making a cake for her school to celebrate Saddam Hussein’s birthday, or her family will face punishment. However, ingredients aren’t cheap, or easy to come by.

Saddam Hussein’s face looms over The President’s Cake. If not as a picture on a wall in every room of every building it’s as a mural spread across a wall. A reminder of the threat faced by nine-year-old Lamia (Baneen Ahmad Nayyef) if she fails to make a cake for her school to celebrate Saddam Hussein’s birthday. After her name has been pulled out of a hat the class are reminded of what happened to the kid who failed to bring one of the required gifts the year before – in monotone unison they say that he and his family were dragged to death.

The items to make the cake may be few but they’re also scarce, and expensive. Lamia lives with her grandmother (Waheed Thabet Khreibat) who already struggles to afford to feed the pair of them – leading to a particularly crushing set of circumstances which separates the pair of them part way through – as Lamia and schoolfriend Saeed (Sajad Mohamad Qasem) filter through the nearby markets to her home; a one-room hut floating in the middle of the river, fear grows and grows.


As the characters go from place to place it would be so easy for the events to become farcical. The base narrative – finding the ingredients to make a cake for Saddam Hussein’s birthday – sound as if they could come from a comedy, until the reminder that death is the consequence of failing to do so. But, while there are some occasionally funny moments which maintain the consistent movement of the drama The President’s Cake is a largely simple story that’s told with a good deal of emotion, largely because of what’s contextually playing out in the background. Particularly conveyed in a fantastic central child performance from Nayyef who gets right to the heart of a child aware of the tragedy around her, and that she could face. Facing disgruntled, unrelenting shopkeepers and risky heists, not to mention a missing chicken. Often holding on to the connection she has with her grandmother, and looking after her as much as she’s looked after.

Misfortune rears its head more and more, although the film is more emotionally gripping than bleak. Heartfelt questions met with silence have a particularly striking effect, we feel the tension and disappointment faced by Lamia throughout. We worry and fear for her. The way in which I found myself engaging with the film was quiet yet led to a powerful effect from what I was seeing. Again, much of which coming from the simple context in the events which seamlessly lead from one to the other, avoiding a chaptered feel.

Even in the closing stages the overriding feeling of The President’s Cake is one of emotional tension. Wonderfully created by the cast, particularly the lead, and writer-director Hasan Hadi who quietly and empathetically looks at the poverty and unease struck into struggling 90s Iraq. All with the overhanging threat of death and loss, which takes on different meanings in the separations of the film, while the president gets his cake.

Avoiding farce but still raising some laughs, The President’s Cake is a quietly engaging and emotionally striking film; holding worry, fear and tension throughout the simple yet impactful narrative. All brilliantly captured in the central child performance and reminders of the looming contextual threat.

Rating: 4 out of 5.