Cert – U, Run-time – 1 hour 29 minutes, Director – Peter Hastings

Police officer Dog Man is constantly battling with evil cat Petey (Pete Davidson), who wishes to take over the world. However, Petey’s schemes begin to tangle, showing links between the pair and bringing the city further to destruction.

For fans of 2017’s Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie this spin-off, based on a comic created by main characters George and Harold, will go down a treat. An equally silly, brightly-coloured, sub-90-minute cartoon caper full of silliness. With an animation style matching the idea of a child-drawn comic, and the illustrations in source book writer Dav Pilkey’s illustrations, the images pop from the screen from the opening frames and assure as to what kind of film is going to unfold over the next hour-and-a-bit.

When Police Officer Knight (writer-director Peter Hastings) and his dog Greg are involved in a bomb-defusal gone wrong the medics operating on the pair see the only way forward as sowing one’s head onto the other’s body. Thus, by combining their respective strengths, Dog Man is born. Just as soon as this happens then orange, human-sized cat Petey (Pete Davidson, creating a good deal of fun with this character labelled ‘the evilest cat in the world’) tries to take the titular officer down through a series of towering robot traps. Each backfires and lands the quick-to-escape feline in cat jail. However, when his various schemes begin to backfire they also create links to Dog Man, especially through the creation of a clone, Lucas Hopkins Calderon’s innocently amusing Li’l Petey, and threaten to destroy the city.

Alongside giant vacuum cleaner traps racing down the streets this is a film where you simply buy into the idea of a factory which creates gas which can bring anything to life. Again, much like it’s come from the mind of a child here it’s hard not to embrace it as another simply silly, and very funny idea. The world and narrative are full of consistently funny cartoon-style antics which help to move an otherwise thin plot – for the most part this feels more like a set of funny ideas loosely strung together into a narrative, although the successful humour gives this a slight, but not entire, pass in this case. Each character has their own quirk which manages to provide visual gags – even as simple as Lil Rel Howery’s police chief’s protective obsession with doughnuts – unfolding at the same time as those contained in the dialogue.

In a number of ways, Dog Man is quite a straightforward comedy in the way that it presents itself and constructs its jokes. Much like Captain Underpants before it, humour is put at the fore of this spin-off. Yes, the other elements are given plenty of time, effort and thought, but there appears to be a collaborative effort here to make a funny film. There are plenty of laugh-out-loud funny moments throughout in a mixture of styles, all catering towards the family audience – if parents can embrace the cartoon absurdities on display there’s just as much to enjoy here as there is for the kids. Whilst chasing Petey in the opening scene, Knight and Greg crash through a ‘Box Of Bees’ in the middle of the road; across the ground spills numerous letter ‘B’s, I was quickly won over and in place for the rest of the film as it breezed by for a largely untroubled, albeit occasionally thin, 89-minutes.

A loud and very funny family comedy, Dog Man’s brightly-coloured animation is packed with fun characters who bring about plenty of visual and verbal gags, helping to largely move aside from the occasionally thin plotting.

Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 35 minutes, Director – Tim Fehlbaum

With the Israeli hostage crisis unfolding in the building next to them, ABC’s sports team switches from broadcast the 1972 Munich Olympics to covering the crisis, especially being the only ones who can properly do so.

There are some who have referred to September 5 as ill-timed and a propaganda piece. Certainly, as the story leans into political angles, possibly making links to the modern day, it feels its most heavy-handed, and to some degree uncertain. Perhaps why much of the action is confined to the control room of ABC’s sports broadcasting team at the 1972 Munich Olympics. Getting ready for another day of covering boxing and volleyball the team, led by John Magaro’s Geoffrey Mason, find themselves putting aside the day’s competition when the Israeli team in the neighbouring Olympic Village, just 100 yards away from the studio, are taken hostage by a terrorist group.

Realising that they’re the only ones able to properly cover the unfolding crisis the sports team hastily put cameras in place and find themselves thinking on the spot as to how they can get across all information to their viewers, including arguing with CBS about satellite access. Yet, while there’s some tension and interest in the assembly of the crew and how they work to keep the broadcast going, with the US-based news team seeking control, the most suspense lies in the simple acts of directing the coverage in the control room. As Magaro sits and orders cuts, fades and previews between cameras and text on screen the suspense is at its greatest. I found myself caught up in the flow of the moment and the attempt to keep control in an unpredictable, and to some extent for the team out-of-depth, situation.

During such moments the film feels most direct and focused, elsewhere as various key figures congregate in corridors to discuss their plan and just what’s happening outside. As occasional disturbances rear their head into the building the feeling of uncertainty comes back into play. As the worry that the terrorists are seeing the broadcast and getting a step-ahead of German officials the police storm into the building. It’s a moment so brief it almost feels like the scene was half-cut with the remains accidentally left in the final film, the effect is strange and the moment overall instantly moved on from. Yet, as a whole the film doesn’t feel entirely limited by the angle that it takes in covering the events, largely because it wants to cover the sports team and their responses rather than the upfront hostage crisis – although in some respects a better job of covering the events is done here than in Kevin Macdonald’s (albeit Oscar-winning) surface-level One Day In September.

Even at 95-minutes September 5 sometimes feels as if it’s padding itself out. For the most part it generally works and moves things along, even if some of those points do feel a little bit underdone. The best elements are those focusing on the focus of the central broadcast team and their actions and decisions in creating what the viewers at home are seeing. What we’re seeing is meant to be an extraordinary piece of broadcasting where all involved in the transmission are highly commended, the filmic depiction of this is generally competently made. That’s certainly the defining word that came to mind, and continues to do so, after seeing the film – competent. A solid enough, if sometimes bumpy and uncertain-feeling, thriller that’s at its best when leaning into the TV crew and their coverage of the unfolding events.

Wanting to focus on the central broadcast team, September 5 is at its best, and most suspenseful, when showing them at work and covering the unfolding crisis on the spot, when leaning into heavy-handed politics or disturbances it feels uncertain and at times half-baked.

Cert – 18, Run-time – 3 hours 35 minutes, Director – Brady Corbet

Jewish Hungarian architect László Tóth (Adrien Brody) arrives in America shortly after World War II, putting his various disconnects and traumas of the past into a giant passion project for a wealthy client (Guy Pearce).

Many have commented on the surprise that The Brutalist only had a budget of $10 million. The surprise is more than justified. Not for what seems to be the display of a big budget from start to finish throughout Brady Corbet’s 3-and-a-half hour epic, but for the scale and scope of it. A multi-segmented concrete tower grows both out of and into the ground, passionately pieced together by Jewish Hungarian architect László Tóth (Adrien Brody). Arriving just outside of Philadelphia shortly after World War II László is shaken by the tragedy of the past, particularly that which continues his separation, at the hands of the Nazis, from his wife Erzsébet (Felicity Jones) and niece Zsófia (Raffey Cassidy), although communicating with them via letters for much of the first half of the film.

The work at hand is commissioned by wealthy industrialist Harrison Van Buren (Guy Pearce), a multi-functional community centre in honour of his late wife. László becomes obsessed with the years-long project, his work kicked back into gear after working on a surprise library room for Harrison from his increasingly standoffish son Harry (an understated and scene-stealing Joe Alwyn). Brody plays the central character as aware of his skills and achievements, and yet not their grandness – humble doesn’t quite seem the right word – until the faltering of the American Dream, and others stepping in his way with their ways of cutting costs and changing the design in the process. Addiction and illness begin to appear as the past begins to haunt its way into his work.

The technical departments shine all the way throughout The Brutalist. Brought together by Corbet’s emotionally tuned direction the look – the cinematography and production design compliment each other with great precision – and sound of the film is meticulously crafted and has its own intensity. Wrapping you in the grey and muddy landscapes and environments in which László finds himself in, forging ahead with a project for which he has undescribed personal feelings and passions. Daniel Blumberg’s score captures some of his fractured and haunted inspirations and feelings, used gently throughout yet having a profound effect, it’s a deserving frontrunner for this year’s Original Score Oscar.

Even the decision to include a 15-minute intermission pretty much exactly halfway through the film, dividing up the two distinct halves of the narrative, has a strong effect on the film and the overall arc. Whilst additionally creating no disturbance to the flow, I found myself absorbed straight back into the proceedings once the countdown was over. The film as a whole is wonderfully edited with each scene or sequence feeling perfectly paced. Yes, you could probably cut out certain moments that don’t entirely impact the plot, yet they feel like they have an effect on the character and his place in the world, and indeed the pacing and style of the film as a whole – which certainly doesn’t feel its run-time.

Everything appears to slot together with ease thanks to the precise crafting that has gone into the film and its style. It makes for an engaging drama where the audible and visual details make it all the more compelling and create the layers for all those playing out the story; the towering concrete structure which dwarfs them has a strong effect even with just supports and base columns put in. All made more impactful as we see László’s connection with the project and the world around him fluctuate and intensify, stirred with the eventual arrival of Erzsébet and Zsófia who carry their own traumas from the past, and those they’re combatting in their new home. It’s meaning that’s brought to the fore in the very latter stages of the film, bringing more to the effective drama that’s been playing out beforehand. Without the epilogue there would still be a strong film, but it’s provided with that bit more detail and emotion in the closing moments. Rounding off the wonderfully constructed and thought-through depiction of this story of immigrant experience, creativity, passion; identity and trauma.

Technically brilliant, The Brutalist has masses of visual and audible detail to enhance the finely acted epic at play. Masterfully handled by Brady Corbet the run-time breezes by thanks to the pacing and investing detail in the emotional stakes of the drama created from the hovering tragedies and pasts the central characters face.

Release Date – 31st January 2025, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 37 minutes, Director – Drew Hancock

After a self-defensive murder, Iris (Sophie Thatcher) uncovers multiple secrets about herself and those she was spending the weekend with, whilst fleeing them in the surrounding woods.

One of the joys of Companion is the sudden twist which properly kicks everything off early in the run-time. While the teaser trailer did exactly what it should do and didn’t given anything away, the main trailer, and some reviews, give this detail away upfront. It’s a shame, as the moment in question brings in a lot of the mystery and ideas that the film subsequently plays with in entertaining fashion.

Iris (Sophie Thatcher) is spending the weekend at a lavish, isolated lakeside home, spending time with her boyfriend Josh (Jack Quaid) and his friends, who she thinks don’t like her. However, after being sexually assaulted and attacked by house owner, Russian millionaire Sergey (Rupert Friend, in an enjoyable brief and knowingly hammy role) Iris kills him in self-defence. Subsequently tied up and bound to a chair whilst those left alive wait for the police to arrive she quickly escapes and while strands about control play out the following few hours see her on the run an uncovering secrets about both her own life and those chasing after her.

While having billed as a horror Companion plays out as more of a dark comedy with thriller-like edges. There are plenty of laughs to be found throughout as the threat at hand is diminished by the various arguments unfolding between Josh and friend Kat (Megan Suri) – who may have their own plans together – and couple Eli (Harvey Guillén) and Patrick (Lukas Gage). There’s also a good deal to enjoy about Iris’ own adventure, with both a good deal of laughs and moments which simply bring about a knowing smile of anticipation as she learns more about herself and pushing herself out into the world around her – even if it is largely woodland surrounding the house and nearby lake.

As things move along with consistently fast pace, all contained in a short, well-handled 97-minute run-time, there’s a lot to enjoy. Largely from the overall tone of the piece but also the darkly comic laughs which come through more consistently the more the film goes on. Even in the closing stages the moments of splatter and bordering-on-18-rated gore allow have their own entertainment factor which works well alongside the suspense. Lines of dialogue around control might feel a little bit on-the-nose and as if they think the film has been making a grander point about this than it actually has, but it does make for a welcome smile for the details and nature of the closing shot. Perhaps, though, what makes it most worthwhile is the simple enjoyment there is to be found from the preceding hour-and-a-half. Both the humour and the occasional gore all held in a tightly and well-told thriller.

A tight and effective thriller with plenty of dark comedy held throughout, Companion is best seen knowing as little as possible. From there the mystery develops in entertaining fashion with likable humour and splatter for consistent enjoyment in the fast-flowing, not to mention short, run-time.

Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 31 minutes, Director – Mel Gibson

Back-in-the-field Madolyn Harris (Michelle Dockery) is air marshal for fugitive witness Winston (Topher Grace), however a safe flight through the Alaskan mountains soon turns deadly when their pilot (Mark Wahlberg) turns out to have other intentions.

Flight Risk feels as if it could be perfectly described by a report card that simply says ‘Poor’. Not an abysmal waste of time, but certainly an underwhelming and tiresome film that’ll quickly be forgotten. Screenwriter Jared Rosenberg’s script appeared on the 2020 Blacklist and was quickly picked up, however with the most basic of basic dialogue cropping up throughout the film it feels as if surely lines and scenes must have been changed and tweaked to turn a praised script into a mundane slog.

Nothing throughout the run-time ever feels as if it properly gels, there are hints in the performances of the central three characters which suggest that their hearts are never fully invested in the project, not helped by Mel Gibson’s wobbly direction which feels uncertain as to where to move and place the camera in the cramped confines of the plane in which much of the events take place. Flying over the Alaskan wilderness to take fugitive witness Winston (Topher Grace) to New York to testify against the Moretti crime family, deputy marshal Madolyn Harris (Michelle Dockery) finds herself facing a pilot (Mark Wahlberg – sporting a dodgy semi-bald look which is never explained) who may in fact be working for someone after Winston.

Throughout the various scraps and last-minute course corrections I found myself distracted by both the amount of ugly shots in the film and the overall lack of fun that it seems to be having. There may be a number of attempts at jokes, only one or two of which gain something of a sympathetic chuckle, but as a whole the humour of the film seems lacking as its events feel as if they could be cut down into a 30-45 minute TV episode rather than a 90-minute feature, a thankful run-time however. There are occasional glimmers of amusement, even amongst the confines the film creates for itself in its single-location thriller aspect, but not quite enough to give it a proper lift.

Instead things trudge along with little to amuse and engage. Instead, I largely sat there rather bored by everything I was seeing, all of which felt somewhat detached and disinterested, having a similar effect on the audience. What appears to want to be a simplistic, stripped back thriller feels too stripped back and therefore basic. It leads to an uncertainly made and eventually messy 90 minutes, all rooted in a rather boring set of sequences.

Far too bland and lacking to create any proper engagement, Flight Risk trudges along without feeling as if anyone involved’s heart is truly invested in the project, creating a boring, even if not doing enough to be worked up about, set of events which lack the thrills and fun that something like this should have.

Release Date – 24th January 2025, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 25 minutes, Director – Steven Soderbergh

In the hope of seeking peace and a close-to-fresh start a family move into a new house, however they may not be alone and the ghostly goings-on send mixed messages.

Presence appears to unconsciously stylistically acknowledge the limitations of its own central conceit. Told from the first-person perspective of the titular presence each scene is made to seem like a one-shot with the unseen figure gliding through the house in which all of the events take place. Each time a scene ends there’s a brief cut to black before things start back up again with the next set of events. While keeping the slow pacing consistent throughout it does create something of an overly slow feeling in the opening stages as scenes feel more like short bursts rather than fully contributing to the overall arc of the film which is being established. When longer sequences, at least a couple of minutes, are at play the elements have more room to breathe and have a better chance of forming a connection.

The cut-to-black device may push some people away with a stop-start feeling, but what comes through more is the fact that it shows the limitations of the film. Restricted to the one location, and needing the family at the centre of the events to be present, there’s a confined feeling to the action which has a knock-on effect on the film as a whole which while leaning into the central style with good effect also finds itself reined in by it.

Mum and dad, Rebekah (Lucy Liu) and Chris (Chris Sullivan) have moved them and their two children, son Tyler (Eddy Maday) and younger daughter Chloe (Callina Liang), to a quieter area where they hope to find peace. Chloe is grieving the loss of two school friends who have taken their own lives, while her parents find themselves arguing constantly about their parenting, work stresses and matters of legalities within them. Tyler appears to be the only one cruising through life, although still finding himself in arguments with his family who he views as failing to move on.

While not a horror elements of the genre are still very much at play within the drama of Presence. It doesn’t go for scares, although prolonged developments in the climactic stages do reach very uncomfortable territory where one character’s actions really got under my skin. These closing stages make for some of the best stuff of the film, and indeed when using the ghostly viewpoint’s abilities instead of just having them wander through the house, as is often the case when observing the central family. Yet, with all the time spent watching them go about their lives, and question whether they’re alone in the house, there’s never a full connection formed with any of them during the short run-time, which for the most part, at 85-minutes, gets in and out just before things go on for too long.

As a whole, there’s little investment and involvement with the film beyond some interesting effect from the stylistic elements and the occasional impactful beat. For the most part I simply sat and watched it all unfolding on the screen in front of me. Presence moves along well enough and uses its style well, but it also unconsciously displays its flaws and hold backs, those which stop it from moving along with greater effect and engagement.

While there are interesting beats and elements courtesy of Presence’s central framing device, especially when at its most upfront, it also holds the film back as it shows the limitations and restrictions it brings to the narrative leading to a lack of full connection with the events as a whole.

Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 43 minutes, Director – Leigh Whannell

When travelling back to his childhood home in the middle of the woods, Blake (Christopher Abbott) is attacked by a mysterious animal. As the night goes on he begins to change, can he protect his wife (Julia Garner) and daughter (Matilda Firth) from himself?

For the most part Wolf Man isn’t a bad film. It has some nice ideas, good central performances and it handles the werewolf transformation story relatively well. Yet, there’s something about the film that somewhat fumbles this key element as the highly stripped-back and traditional leanings sometimes make for an air of blandness for the proceedings. For those going in expecting another social horror from Leigh Whannell after 2020’s The Invisible Man, also made under Blumhouse, this is far from a repeat. Wolf Man is an upfront transformation tale through-and-through.

When family man Blake (Christopher Abbott) is attacked after a near-collision in the woods, returning to his childhood home in the wake of his father’s death (played by Sam Jaeger in the film’s 90s set opening scene), he quickly falls ill. Rapidly deteriorating his behaviour becomes more frantic, with wife Charlotte (Julia Garner) and eight-year-old daughter (Matilda Firth) having to focus on the possible threat in the house with them, and the creature prowling outside ready to attack. While at times the intended gradual transformation can sometimes feel somewhat rushed when shown as happening almost all at once over a minimal number of hours there are some good ideas to be found. Eventually we get to see how Blake is seeing the world with his animalistic viewpoint compared to Charlotte as she tries to look after him, unsure as to what is happening.

There may not be many scares, despite some tension here and there, but Wolf Man works dramatically, while still landing firmly in the horror genre. There are likable elements to be found, particularly helped by Abbott and Garner’s performances; and indeed Firth puts in a good child performance, but occasionally things, especially in the first half, can feel very slow and over-familiar. You can see the classic influences on this film, and where it steps out to do something different, and overall it’s hard to argue that the film doesn’t achieve what it appears to set out to do in trying to make a traditional werewolf movie with one or two new ideas and elements, which work rather well.

There’s a successful claustrophobic feel in some scenes and visually there’s a good deal of detail when it comes to the changes in Abbott’s appearance. None more so than when you can see the inevitable, where from there the makeup department’s efforts pay off and then some with the changes and animalistic elements which begin to appear more rapidly – again, with the help of Abbott selling the role in these moments. There may still be elements of convention at play, but at least there’s still a likable sense to the film which stops it from dipping into a slightly staggering set of repeats as could so easily be the case. It takes a bit of time to get here after the wandering opening stages, but for the most part once in the house there’s enough to like and be amused by stylistically that Whannell and co manage to pull off this occasionally familiar, if perhaps forgettable, werewolf transformation flick.

Not a bad film, Wolf Man appears to achieve what it sets out to do. While sometimes the familiarity can be a bit too much and brings in a sense of blandness there are likable stylistic details at play that, even if lacking in scares, with the help of Garner and Abbot’s performances, makes for a lightly interesting and passable werewolf transformation film.

Cert -15, Run-time – 2 hours 20 minutes, Director – James Mangold

As the 60s begin, Bob Dylan (Timothée Chalamet) arrives in New York City and takes the folk scene by storm, before shaking it up with his turn to electric.

A Complete Unknown wants to show just how much of a genius Bob Dylan (Timothée Chalamet) is believed to be. How his songs had a strong impact on the world and those who heard them from the first chord he played. Yet, while scenes of performance are frequent highlights in the near two-and-a-half hour run-time when simply showing a performance it’s generally passes by and seems to take up a couple of minutes. Where these moments work best is when showing a connection to the music at hand, and the effect that it has. More than once the camera focuses on Elle Fanning’s face (playing Sylvie, a fictionalised version of Dylan’s girlfriend Suze Rotolo), close-ups show a range of emotions filling up and beginning to leak from her eyes as on multiple occasions the songs performed on stage bring to further light Dylan’s affair with Joan Baez (Monica Barbaro).

Yet, in others we simply see people working together to create music. A stripped-back, back-to-basics feeling that puts the focus on the sound and the instruments rather than the personalities, while still showing those personal feelings and that love of music. It’s a key point of co-writer (alongside Jay Cocks) and director James Mangold’s biopic as we see a young Bob Dylan arrive in New York City at the dawn of the 60s to meet his hospitalised hero Woody Guthrie (Scoot McNairy), subsequently he stays and throughout the decade shakes up the folk scene in multiple ways.

As his fame, and the constant acclaim he receives, rises so does the character of Dylan. How much of what we see is a persona is only lightly questioned, something left largely aside from the rest of the film’s dealings that feels as if there was more left on the cutting room floor. We get hints that Dylan changed his name from Bobby Zimmerman and the hint of an act when the sunglasses go on and the more his style and look changes, but nothing more upfront. Baez observes to him early on “you’re kind of an asshole, Bob”, although sometimes his behaviour makes “kind of” seem somewhat of an understatement the more the singer-songwriter, whose behaviour may feel like a persona due to the occasionally imitation style of Chalamet’s performance, feels constrained by the folk scene.

“A good song can get the job done without the frills; no drums, no electric instruments” claims Edward Norton’s Pete Seeger (a largely warm and kindly figure who could almost fill in for Mr Rogers) shortly after meeting a freshly-arrived Dylan. A folk purist, he too is shaken up when the young man he helped launch onto the scene turns to those electric instruments. At times treading near the conventional lines of new music receiving negative reaction from the old guard – as a whole Mangold avoids Walk Hard territory, after making Walk The Line, the film which inspired the still-accurate spoof – there’s no denying the effect that the music has. Perhaps it helps that I lean more towards Dylan’s electric tracks than his folk work as a whole, but as a whole there’s a likable use of a good deal of his catalogue, with a sprinkling of other folk tracks, throughout; adding an energetic kick to some of the proceedings, and moving the eventually well-paced run-time along quite consistently.

There is an occasional unevenness to A Complete Unknown, and it shows Dylan to be that way too, particularly in regards to his relationships and way he presents himself to others. But, in a similar way, the music is what helps to lift and drive things. Adding to character interactions and bringing a stronger effect to them. While not a musical this biopic understands the relationship that people can have with music and what it can say, do and bring out. Communicating just that in its best moments where the music can sometimes speak better than anything else, and can also create forgiveness when the central figure starts to come across as kind of an asshole.

While there might be some bumps along the way in regards to Dylan’s personality and a lack of insight into degrees of persona, A Complete Unknown leans into the music with the pivotal point of the connection and effect it can have. With that a better, more enjoyable, film forms with a good kick from its soundtrack.

Release Date – 31st January 2025, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 49 minutes, Director – Jason Reitman

90 minutes before air, the cast of Saturday Night are fighting, there’s no audience and the schedule is over three hours. With risk of cancellation, producer Lorne Michaels (Gabriel LaBelle) is trying to bring everything together in the hope of creating something revolutionary.

Throughout Saturday Night Gil Kenan and director Jason Reitman’s screenplay reminds us how the cast and, at least some of, the crew are setting out to create something revolutionary. A cathartic variety show of live entertainment for the generation who grew up with TV by the generation who grew up watching TV. Unfortunately, this doesn’t lead to a harmonious feeling behind the scenes of TV as 90 minutes before going to air producer and show creator Lorne Michaels (a truly fantastic Gabriel LaBelle, powering forward amongst the larger-than-life personalities and egos of the characters around him; his exclusion from the conversation is one of the big shames of this awards season) struggles to keep everything together in order to go live. That is if he gets the go ahead from disapproving studio execs (led by Willem Dafoe) who are looking to put on a re-run of The Tonight Show as soon as possible.

As we see fights between the cast (particularly Cory Michael Smith’s cocky Chevy Chase and Matt Wood’s serious, withheld actor John Belushi), split up by the occasional unifying drug use, crew struggle, or simply don’t bother, to set everything up to rehearse for an overbooked schedule there are constant reminders of how different this show was intended to be, and would be, from anything else on TV. It brings about an exciting feeling within the fast-paced countdown which frantically tracks Michaels’ slipping control of each situation.

Yet, there’s comedy in the chaos. Both from the characters we see on screen, easily established in the initial sparks of their first appearances, and their white-hot interactions – writer Michael O’Donoghue (Tommy Dewey) has great fun riling up a devout Christian NBC censor (Catherine Curtin) with his multitude of crude jokes and phrases. Much of this propelled by the strong performances from each cast member and the unit they form. Nicholas Podany’s Billy Crystal, worrying his sketch will be cut from the running order, is uncanny while Nicholas Braun seamlessly wanders around as Andy Kaufman in character as Foreign Man from the opening scene and doubles as a writer-tormented Jim Henson. Meanwhile, Rachel Sennott effortlessly rides the spiralling wave of the imminent show as writer Rosie Shuster, also helping to keep the cast and production calm and together, in addition to being Michaels’ wife – there’s a rather nice tone to the ‘it’s complicated’ nature of their relationship and their interactions which have the calmest, yet still pacey, moments of the film. And the cast list goes on without feeling overstuffed due to the understanding ensemble, and everyone getting their moment to shine.

While Saturday Night Live may not always be something that captures the humour of those outside America, the brief moments of sketches, outside of Weekend Update, in this film fail to conjure up many laughs, whether this is intentional or not I’m not sure; however the bulk of the film looking at the behind the scenes details have plenty. Remaining consistent even amongst the rising tension, particularly in the final half hour when everyone is at their most scattered.

Even here it would have been hard to wipe the big smile, and at times grin, from my face. From start to finish Saturday Night is a deliriously entertaining ride with an ensemble cast who instantly gel to create a tour de force build-up to TV history. You can feel a sense of unity amongst those making this film, coming across in just how well tracked it is – particularly by Reitman’s direction, and the tight screenplay – to create the disunity depicted. The hopes for and worries about the show at the heart of the production which is paid respect and admiration to. This is a love letter without the schmaltz. One which clearly shouldn’t be taken as gospel as it barrels forward with relentless pace and energy to make for a brilliantly entertaining ride to match the big personalities on display.

Gabriel LaBelle superbly leads and ties together the no-holds-barred pace and coverage of Saturday Night. Efficiently scripted and directed, there’s plenty of laughs to be found within both the film’s personality and the personalities it displays in full force for maximum entertainment and un-saccharine homage.

Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 30 minutes, Director – Jesse Eisenberg

Cousins David (Jesse Eisenberg) and Benji (Kieran Culkin) embark on a week-long tour of Poland to learn about the country’s, and their Jewish family’s, history in the wake of their Holocaust survivor grandmother’s death.

There’s been praise directed towards A Real Pain for acknowledging the awkwardness that there can be around it subject matter. Tensions rise between ‘joined-at-the-hip’ cousins family-man David (Jesse Eisenberg – who also servers as writer, director and co-producer) and isolated Benji (Kieran Culkin) as they explore the past of their Jewish family through a tour of Poland in the wake of their grandmother’s death, herself a Holocaust survivor. As the pair join a small group of four other tourists, and their tour guide James (Will Sharpe), Benji’s emotional responses to the world around him vary strongly in the wake of possible depression and mental health issues. The film never outright says that this is the case and while at times dealing with them, and how David reacts to Benji’s behaviour, in a considered manner at other times feels as if it awkwardly dances around them.

Culkin’s performance has been much acclaimed, and he’s pitched as a likely Oscar frontrunner. His performance is quite a traditional one, it, alongside the film as a whole, feels as if it could have been sweeping the awards circuit in and around the 80s. This isn’t to say that either feel outdated, but there’s sometimes a lack of directness to Benji’s behaviour as it fluctuates throughout the tour. At one moment bubbly and energetic, eagerly socialising with the rest of the group; at another freaked out by the journey he’s on, suffering something close to an anxiety attack in the first class carriage of a train when reflecting how his family were herded into the backs to concentration camps almost 80 years before. Culkin does his best and indeed brings insightful layers to his character through a thoughtful performance, pushing through what the film doesn’t say.

It’s perfectly fine for things not to be said verbally, but sometimes it feels as if there’s a struggle for things to be said even in a look or air of understanding from at least the film, even if not David when explored over dinner one evening. As if the lightness of the film wants to stay on track as much as possible, even during more dramatic moments. Yet, perhaps the best sequence of the film is a directly serious, almost silent, one depicting the group’s respectful visit to Majdanek. Already during exposition shots of Poland Eisenberg’s camera captures a good deal of detail which brings you into the locations, but as it lingers throughout the concentration camp as it seems to dwarf the characters it pushes you back in your seat. Played out with little sound or dialogue as the return journey to the hotel begins you just want it to linger on to sustain the impact instead of going to another piece of Chopin.

Even after this moment there’s still room for humour. Before and after the visit there’s some well-balanced humour as the ‘more like brothers’ cousins, it’s noted that they were born three weeks apart, get reacquainted in the wake of their bereavement, taken particularly hard by Benji. While not everything quite gets a laugh this is less a film aiming for an out-and-out comedy, although it could fall into the comedy category, and more a light drama dealing with such serious themes. Perhaps to make them more accessible and highlight the continuing impact and different familial connections and lives lived because of it. Regardless, the laughs do manage to gently come in from the opening stages and help to move things along during the bumpier, more uncertain moments, only occasionally feeling as if they heighten or further show the uncertainty of how to deal with or present a certain idea or moment.

With everything contained within 90 minutes there’s a short journey yet one that gets a good deal in and manages to make the most of that time. Not outstaying its welcome and generally leaving some of the best moments towards the end of the film, where much of the most interesting details of the characters as individuals lies. While not everything entirely clicks during that short run-time there’s still enough to like and enjoy, particularly in regards to the humour and performances – there are some likable moments of conversation with other members of the tour group relating to identity and the various meanings of pain and what to do with it. Just sometimes its depictions of awkwardness come across as a general awkwardness from the film rather than in the situations its depicting.

Good humour and performances help A Real Pain to move along, at its best when it takes a moment to take in its characters behaviours and feelings, however it feels hampered by its own occasional awkwardness when approaching such matters creating something of a bumpy, if overall likable, ride.