Release Date – TBC, Cert – TBC, Run-time – 1 hour 43 minutes, Director – Daniel Hui

On opposite sides of a desk in an almost empty room, a woman (Yang Yanxuan Vicki) and her interrogator (Irfan Kasban) exchange details uncovering and linking to Singapore’s political history.

Small Hours Of The Night is a film to sit with its ideas for extended periods of time. As the camera focuses on one of the two figures sat in an almost empty room – shot in black and white to increase the darkness and shadows which fill the frame – there’s often one key idea running for sometimes ten or more minutes to accompany the monologue that’s unfolding. Whether it be a drum solo over a still shot or an alarm ringing with a bright light rotating around the room such details are as stripped back as the cell in which the central interrogation unfolds in, often starting to feel drawn-out the longer they go on for.

On opposite sides of an organised, yet cramped, desk sit a woman (Yang Yanxuan Vicki) and her interrogator (Irfan Kasban). Over the course of a stormy night they begin to unfold details of Singapore’s political, and legal, history. Set in the 60s the film apparently links to the 1980s Tan Chay Wa tombstone trial, the film has been effectively banned from public screenings and distribution in Singapore after being refused a certificate after being deemed “prejudicial to national interest”.

The back and forth of the conversation is largely in monologue form with details gradually leaked out with each new stylistic element. The execution of the film certainly won’t be for everyone, including myself, with its very slow pacing and minimalist style it may come across, despite its possible intentions and what it’s dealing with, as if it would work and hold attention better as a short film. Instead, the jumps back and forth between the characters and the views and realities they uncover together grow a staggered feeling with the lengthy speeches beginning to feel like individual segments with the start and end simply being the sudden jump to the next.

It causes a knock on effect that leads the run-time to also feel drawn out, with much of it being filled by disconnect between the viewer and the film. This is a slow burn drama where the focus from writer-director Daniel Hui appears to be on the detail of the dialogue as it unravels the history at hand, however the dominating factor in the final product are the various stylistic elements which crop up at each stage of the interrogation.

Small Hours Of The Night won’t be for everyone as its style often dominates the filmmaker’s focal dialogue and the central interrogation, creating a drawn-out and segmented feeling which creates increasing disconnect over the slow burn drama.

Release Date – 6th December 2024, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 39 minutes, Director – Marielle Heller

Facing the increasing mundanity and stress of motherhood, and with her husband (Scoot McNairy) constantly away, a stay-at-home mum (Amy Adams) finds herself transforming into a dog.

The trailers for Nightbitch have posed it as an out-and-out barrel of laughs comedy. While it’s certainly a very funny film the extent of its humour has been intensely exaggerated to make it appear as a film of pure wacky silliness. In actual fact the latest from writer-director Marielle Heller, adapted from Rachel Yoder’s book of the same name, is a serious film in the guise of an unserious one. One where the dramatic edges become sharper and more prominent as the narrative develops, and Amy Adams’ Mother begins to embrace the fact that she may be turning into a dog.

As motherhood creates a cycle of mundanity and stress for the stay-at-home mum the isolation and fear that she’ll never be the same begins to take its toll. A montage shows each day as very much the same as she spends her days looking and cleaning up after her toddler (Arleigh and Emmett Snowden – credited as ‘Son’), hoping to one day be able to get back to being an artist. As the days go on, looking after her son alone with her husband (Scoot McNairy) constantly away for work, the more Mother begins to display doglike behaviours. There’s a sense of fun to these moments, and the film as a whole, which begins to appear in the more serious beats too.

Marielle Heller’s screenplay contains a lot to like but perhaps the most effective element is just how well it balances the very tricky balance between seriousness and humour within a film like this. The two blend together wonderfully and while Nightbitch might not be for everyone it’s certainly ambitious in what it wants to depict. In some respects it shares themes with 2021’s The Lost Daughter, but in this case Amy Adams is happy with being a parent, but worries that she’s losing herself as part of it and wants to take back control and have time to herself, wishing to avoid becoming “a middle-aged, saggy mom with nothing intelligent to add to the conversation”.

Adams gives a brilliant performance capturing the tired scatter of thoughts and hopes for calm staggering around her character’s half awake brain which is largely focusing on her child. Rage and disappointment begin to burn a hole through her which allows for her inner dog to leak through, landing her in awkward situations in public such as when she starts eating like an animal but also giving her a sense of freedom as she runs with a pack racing after her at night. This starts to appear in her shifting day-to-day where confidence jumps back in and she gets more of a sense of agency in her life in addition to that of being a mother. Shifting from a lack of caring as if almost giving up to a lack of care about what the rest of the world thinks as she marches on with a growing confidence, perhaps both best summed up in a scene where Mother commits and then some to a rendition of Weird Al Yankovic’s Dare To Be Stupid.

Nightbitch’s humour effectively acknowledges the strangeness of the central idea yet never diminishes the more serious themes at hand. Well stemmed from Marielle Heller’s well-balanced screenplay and direction, with help from Amy Adams on great form, this is a film that really gets its tone right and works because of it, when it could so easily falter or feel like a jumble. Conveying its core themes with a sense of fun and growing thought, this is a serious film that dares to be silly but never feels stupid.

Marielle Heller and Amy Adams, on great form, find the right balance between seriousness and humour in Nightbitch, which manages to tackle its increasingly sharp dramatic edges with thought and a sense of fun.

Release Date – 14th February 2025, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 34 minutes, Director – Adam Elliot

Grace (Sarah Snook) reflects on her life of separation and tragedy, and the people who have offered hope and kindness.

Adam Elliot cares about people. His films have consistently extended a hand of caring understanding to those who feel isolated, lost and uncertain as to their place in the world; whether they have one or fit in. He acknowledges that the world can be an unkind place, particularly to those who find them distanced from the rest of it, but reminds us that there are always signs of kindness within it.

These are addressed up front in his first feature since 2009’s marvellous Mary And Max. Memoir Of A Snail sees young woman Grace Pudel (Sarah Snook) recounting the events of her life to a snail in the back garden of the home which she shared with recently-passed elderly friend Pinky (Jacki Weaver). Throughout a life of separation and tragedy there have always been people, such as outgoing and gloriously carefree Pinky or her twin brother Gilbert (Kodi Smit-McPhee) who writes her regular letters after the pair are separated as kids, who show glimmers of kindness in the world.

This is a film of real sadness. Yet, through its open honesty there’s room for an effective sense of humour to both lighten and add to the emotional beats. The look of the stop-motion, consistent with Elliot’s previous work, feels like it’s from a cartoon or children’s drawing, pushing the innocence of the central character when depicted as a child (voiced by Charlotte Belsey) and maintaining the reflection of the world while allowing for some of the sillier moments of humour – Gilbert is sent to live with an extremely devout Christian family who abuse him, one scene relating to this is extremely hard to watch, where the sons are humorously called Wayne, Dwayne, Shayne and Ben, while Pinky apparently used to work at a sausage and strip club called ‘Shnitz ‘N’ Tits’.

The connection with the film is almost instant. Very early on we see Grace being bullied at school, she huddles herself into as tight a ball as possible, tearing up and shaking. Around her an imaginary snail shell forms as a protective shield, later developed into an increasingly shabby, brown woollen hat with homemade eyeballs protruding from the top like a snail. The treatment of the scene and simple visual look of just a few seconds landed a very early knock-out punch. So many moments have a subtle quietness to them which brings a strong emotional effect. Simple images and moments which further connect you to the main character and make the joys feel all the more joyous and the upsets strike a strong emotional chord. Much of this comes down to Elliot’s beautifully written screenplay, treated with the same heart that the finished film emits, establishing its characters very early on to allow for the emotional core to be explored the more we learn about Grace’s life.

Often in the rush of a film festival my schedule will have three or four films noted in for one day. It does mean that sometimes when you just want to go and sit in a dark room and think about the film you’ve just seen, as was the case for me with The Whale back in 2022’s LFF, you start queuing for, or just move on to, the next film. Memoir Of A Snail forced me to take a step aside for the rest of the day; cancelling the other films I had that day for the need to digest the film and simply enjoy thinking over it more as it settled in further.

Its emotion comes from its human understanding. Both the upset which Grace experiences, and the moments where life’s uplifts and happiness are allowed to flourish, and sometimes linger in the form of hope. All excellently captured, visually and thematically, in believable characters who themselves create a sense of hope in the world. There’s an emotional weight on leaving the film, there’s certainly a number over the course of the short, breezy run-time, but there’s a sense of uplift and joy, too – as, again, there is throughout with the many laugh-out-loud moments. Much like in Grace’s life, they show the lighter moments of happiness, where characters embrace themselves and what they love, which help to keep things going and not falling under the weight of the finely tuned emotion on display. All because, like those who support her, Adam Elliot cares about his characters and those who may feel like them.

A fantastically human depiction of feeling separated and distanced from the rest of the world, Memoir Of A Snail is a tender and caring film that masters both the strong emotional punches and the equally touching uplift and joy.

Release Date – 9th May 2025, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 42 minutes, Director – Jazmin Jones

Friends Jazmin Jones and Olivia McKayla Ross search for the mysterious and inspiring Black woman who taught a generation to type in the game Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing.

Seeking Mavis Beacon is one of those rare films where I started to get truly excited about what the filmmakers will do next. There’s a unique voice to it that stems from the youth of director Jazmin Jones and her friend Olivia McKayla Ross – one of the pair celebrates their 21st birthday in the film. Not just in the documentary’s use of TikTok videos to break up scenes but in the general nature of the film as a whole. There’s a spark which appears to lean towards a young target audience which gives the film a very likable personality. One which demonstrates a new, fresh, modern generation of filmmaking talent which I couldn’t help but be excited by.

The pair are searching for the face, both on the cover and in the game, of PC game Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing. Described as “the Aunt Jemima of technology” it’s claimed that she helped build an entire generation of Americans relationships with computers. Yet, the key question playing out is “not only ‘who is Mavis Beacon’, but ‘why is she Black?'” The investigation is serious yet relaxed to create a welcoming feeling to a film that only occasionally slips into the feeling of ‘they’re searching for a person on the front cover of a video game’.

Whilst searching for the woman who portrayed Mavis Jones and Ross delve into just what seeing such a figure in a game like this meant to a whole generation of people of colour, and indeed how the figure featured came to be Mavis Beacon. While one or two street interviews feel like slight steps aside for the most part the various points that arise as part of the search feel well-linked and help to expand the central mystery and make for a wider-ranging film which feels both personally investigative for the filmmakers whilst also contributing to the main points at hand. In general this begins as a personal piece which eventually grows into something bigger, while still maintaining that individual note for those leading the film.

As a whole Seeking Mavis Beacon comes across as an impressive film. One which feels as if it could so easily feel slight or overstretched, but manages to lead its narrative in enough ways for it to maintain interest in the central investigation and the handful of branches linked to it. Leaning partly into our relationship with technology and the human factors that are a part of it – “would my relationship with computers have been as trusting if Mavis hadn’t been there?” sets off an early thread relating to just why this investigation is happening in the first place and why it matters to those embarking on it. There’s a spark to each thread, each treated with a seriousness which emphasises the effect that the events playing out have personally for Jones and Ross and just what past events meant for people of colour and Mavis Beacon herself.

Fuelled by a relaxed and modern personality which announces a new, young generation of filmmaking talent, Seeking Mavis Beacon’s seriousness makes for a welcoming documentary which expands its central search with equally engaging and personal branches all contributing to the central investigation.

Release Date – 11th November 2024, Cert – 18, Run-time – 1 hour 36 minutes, Director – Austin Peters

Beautician Hope Goldman (Elizabeth Banks) is about to launch her own skincare brand, however when a rival clinic opens across the street at the same time as she receives threatening messages from an unknown number she’ll do anything to get her life back on track.

“Beauty is a cutthroat business” claims beautician Hope Goldman (Elizabeth Banks). She’s days away from the big launch of her skincare brand and her words are about to prove more true than she would expect. At the same time as a rival skincare clinic opens opposite hers she begins to receive threatening messages from an unknown number. She wants answers, and control. To know that her future, and that of her brand and store, are going to be safe – with that safety locked in as soon as possible so that everything is back on track for the big day.

As her regular customers, and friends, begin to drift away to the store of Angel Vergara (Luis Gerardo Méndez) in the wake of inappropriate emails sent from her account Hope begins to suspect her new rival of sabotaging her. Trying her best to prove it she finds the help of increasingly conceited life coach Jordan (Lewis Pullman) who she starts to form a relationship with as her life and relationship start to crumble. As things grow the tension successfully rises making for a quietly gripping thriller aspect to this comedically-edged film.

The laughs certainly manage to come through in a good few scenes along the way, and there’s a good deal of fun to be found throughout. As the third act unravels, and indeed before, while it’s clear where things are going to go I still sat there with a smile placed on my face from the simple entertainment factor of the film alone. One that doesn’t seem to be trying too hard to make additional comments and places its simplistic but enjoyable narrative first and foremost.

When a film such as this is done so effectively the familiar beats or predictable elements don’t seem to matter as much. They may not add to the enjoyment in a case such as this, but it’s testament to the entertaining nature of the film that it gets away with these beats. Helped by a cast, particular Banks on very good form as her character’s veil of calmness becomes increasingly fractured, who each work well together and convey the growing chaos, and worry, in Hope’s life as a set of bad turns and decisions escalates everything beyond the damage that’s already been done to her reputation by mysterious figures. But, surely a free pamper session in her clinic can sort it all out?

At just 96 minutes Skincare certainly doesn’t outstay its welcome and appears to know that as close to 90 minutes is the perfect run-time for a film such as this. Filling that duration with a solidly entertaining thriller that puts the entertainment factor and narrative first and foremost. Creating a good deal of rising tension alongside the occasional laughs to simply make for an effective comedic thriller which provides enough amusement for it to get around some of its predictable problems.

While it’s clear where Skincare’s going there’s an enjoyable enough time thanks to the laughs and well-executed tension, both effectively portrayed by Elizabeth Banks, that these points can easily be put to one side by the entertainment factor.

Release Date – TBC, Cert – TBC, Run-time – 1 hour 46 minutes, Directors – Ilyash Yourish, Shahrokh Bikaran

A Hazara family seek answers as to what led to the mysterious death of their sister and daughter whilst studying in Kabul.

Kamay is a film awash with grief. Pain is spread across the faces of the central family as they continue to mourn the loss of their sister and daughter, Zahra, made worse by a lack of answers as to what led to her death whilst studying in Kabul, far from the small-community home in the mountains. Each family member holds a heavy weight on their shoulders, they express and move with it throughout, the camera unobtrusively observing the toll that grief takes on people.

Journeys to Kabul can be deadly, the Taliban are getting closer to home and there are stories of them stopping cars and beheading those inside on the side of the road. As the film goes on explosions get louder as concerns grow that the family and those around them will have the evacuate their home and have to find safety elsewhere, although danger surrounds them wherever they go. There’s a sense of tension amongst the emotion as mother and father try to get answers in Kabul to limited responses, when there are developments they pack a strong emotional punch as you’re caught in the visible emotions of the whole family.

Additionally, as the camera sits in the car for the days-long journey back and forth into Kabul you feel the danger everyone is in. Not just from the threat of the Taliban, but the terrain and environments that are travelled through, all in the search of solace. They live in hope and determination, the former wavering as the film develops.

Understandably, this is a quiet documentary that puts focus on genuine, unfiltered humans and the tragedy they’re going through. Never feeling obtrusive or forceful what we see feels completely natural and adds to the overall effect on the viewer. All heightened by the slow pacing of the film which allows each moment and feeling to sink in, expressing just a part of the weight we see people carrying on screen, and what’s happening around where they live, too.

An effective portrayal of the toll grief can take, Kamay uses slow pacing to heighten the unfiltered human emotions that are on display throughout in the form of pain, sadness and tension.

Release Date – 28th March 2025, Cert – 12, Run-time – 1 hour 7 minutes, Directors – Steven Eastwood, The Neurocultures Collective

A set of vignettes by neurodivergent artists intersperse to create a portrait of what it’s like to live in the world with neurodivergence.

Whilst creating a storybook one of the central creatives featured in and behind The Stimming Pool describes how the central character has been given “autistic superpowers”. While viewing certain attributes that others, my autistic self included, may see as things that can occasionally hold them back as superpowers is wonderful alone the detail of tackling things such as noise overlap and overload is even more so. It’s a creative way of looking at things and getting across what it’s like to be neurodiverse, but putting a positive spin on it.

As a whole, The Stimming Pool is made to demonstrate what it’s like to be neurodivergent in the world today. Director Steven Eastwood collaborates with a set of creatives known as The Neurocultures Collective to create a set of vignettes each detailing a different aspect of the world as experienced by those at the centre of the film. Whether it be talking about a film – the opening sees a young man called Robin introducing a schlocky B-movie, describing it as “so atrociously bad”, eventually building up to the rest of the documentary – or showing a tracker following someone’s constant eye movements across a video clip of a busy street. The interpretations in the film and what each segment chooses to do is certainly interesting, although there are undeniably some ideas which work better than others.

Less direct moments, experimental doesn’t quite seem like the right word here, don’t always hit the mark meaning that they don’t connect or get across their point as well as others. The general idea behind the film remains intact and it helps to support the moments which don’t click as well, even when the point feels as if it’s been made somewhat early on with the segment continuing for a little while after along the same line. But, there’s enough within The Stimming Pool which clicks and works. Capturing interest through the ways in which the creatives behind the film demonstrate their view of the world to those watching.

While not everything entirely clicks, the most direct and upfront descriptions within The Stimming Pool have a good deal of interest to make for an engaging documentary with a number of likable segments which allow its creatives to shine.