Release Date – 7th February 2025, Cert – 15, Run-time – 2 hours 47 minutes, Director – Mohammad Rasoulof

Iman (Missagh Zareh) is promoted to investigative judge, however with the benefits of the job comes a growing threat if the public discovers what he does, leading to him taking a harsher stance with his liberal daughters (Mahsa Rostami, Setareh Maleki).

Very shortly after finishing a secretive shooting of his latest feature writer-director Mohammad Rasoulof fled Iran. His films have created conflict with the Iranian government, who have handed him prison sentences for creating anti-regime propaganda or simply filming without a permit, for well over a decade. Having been edited in Germany, with the footage having been smuggled out of Iran to Rasoulof, this is one of the most unflinching and switched on pieces of Iranian cinema I’ve seen in years.

Promoted to the role of investigative judge, Iman’s (Missagh Zareh) job quickly loses its investigative side as he’s asked by multiple colleagues to sign death sentences for people who haven’t been looked into. For this reason Iman is told to keep his job quiet to everyone, including his family. If anyone were to find out there could be a threat to his life, and those of his family; hence why he’s given a gun which he casually tucks into his trousers for if any threat directly confronts him. As unrest and anti-government protests grow with a growing anger at the regime’s control violent videos appear on social media, witnessed by Iman’s teenage daughters, Rezvan (Mahsa Rostami) and Sana (Setareh Maleki).

“What if the law of the country is wrong?” one of them asks their father early on, “God’s will cannot be wrong!” he responds. Familial conflicts grow as sirens can be heard outside the family apartment rushing to step in to the growing protests each night. You can feel the tension and unease in the relationships as Rasoulof creates a strong depiction, and call, about the young’s response to the world of horror around them. Iman finds himself in both a familial and political clash as his words and actions begin to make things worse and could reveal the home address where he lives with his wife (Soheila Golestani) and daughters, none of whom wear hijabs when there, despite it being required by the Iranian regime (including at all times in films).

The first half of the film very much focuses on the two daughters, particularly Rezvan, as social media highlights that what they’re being told at home in regards to the deaths of young activists – their father claims they died of a stroke when it’s widely believed they were killed – might not be true. The film delivers a punch with Rasoulof’s decision to incorporate real footage, and finds some inspiration, from recent protests surrounding the 2022 death of Mahsa Amini. As things develop the focus shifts more on to the family as a whole, especially when more drastic measures are jumped into in the wake of panic from Iman, becoming so sucked into his job that his mistrust of his own family grows into fear and anger, leading to darker and more chaotic decisions.

Leading to a third act which, while slightly pushing the run-time, details the furious mania that Iman descends into as he becomes desperate to protect himself for the sake of his job. The fear factor certainly comes through thanks to Zareh’s performance, confirming the tensions that were building up earlier in the film. While certain turns might start to make the narrative feel somewhat drawn out, especially in the wake of travelling to different locations and the more sinister tone coming alongside it. While as a whole the film fills its almost 3-hour run-time rather well the closing stages do begin to border on feeling like Iran’s answer to The Shining, although here not entirely a bad thing.

It’s not quite the same rallying call as makes up the first two hours, but, as mentioned, the final portion of the film is concerned with the family as a whole than just the way the younger members interact with and view the world around them. Rasoulof’s direction remains specifically aimed and makes sure that the constantly darkening overhanging threat that can’t be seen is always in perspective and view for the viewer as it becomes clearer for the family in different ways. With the references and images from real-world protests adding to the unflinching nature of the film and its narrative, this is a film made with a strong, fiery, determined attitude which adds to its punch and the passionate depictions of its younger characters.

Bordering on feeling overlong in the third act, there’s a passionate call in The Seed Of The Sacred Fig’s unflinching attitude, capturing a consistent tension and overhanging threat, particularly as the young characters piece together the truths of the world they’ve had covered from them for so long.

Release Date – 8th May 2025, Cert – 18, Run-time – 1 hour 55 minutes, Director – Fleur Fortuné

Scientists Mia (Elizabeth Olsen) and Aaryan (Himesh Patel) hope to pass the 7-day parenthood assessment, however official Virginia (Alicia Vikander) puts them through much more than expected as a test for a child becomes a test on the couple’s relationship.

The Assessment would be a much better film if it were to play as an out-and-out comedy. This isn’t to say that the subject and themes are best suited to a comedy, although that could be the case when seeing which scenes play out best. When leaning into comedy and humour the film is undeniably at its best and flows quickest. A scene involving Alicia Vikander’s government official Virginia crawling around a dinner party table behaving like a toddler, and the reactions of those around her – especially Minnie Driver who only appears briefly but brilliantly chews up the scenery as soon as she appears on screen – are undeniably funny.

Virginia’s behaviour switches immediately from formal to childlike as soon as the assessment of scientists Mia (Elizabeth Olsen) and Aaryan (Himesh Patel) begins. In a future where who can and can’t have children is under government control, they must pass a seven-day test in order to be given approval to be parents to their own baby. However, as the test goes on Virginia’s behaviour not only tests the couple’s parenting abilities but also the strength of their relationship as a whole. Her behaviour, and enjoyable performance, would undoubtedly fit in better in a full comedy instead of a sci-fi influenced dramedy. This is until the turns of the second half where certain character decisions simply feel uncomfortable and unnecessary.

The themes and ideas of the film are clear throughout with subtext not being a full item on the agenda, despite the initial implications of the look and setting of the dystopian future house the couple live in – slightly plucked out of a 60s view of the future. As the drama grows in the latter stages of the narrative darker character interactions begin to emerge which deviate from the initial thread of the film. Much of the events begin to feel like an extended epilogue rather than a rounding off the story and as a whole a film that avoided feeling like a trudge because of its humour becomes stony-faced and humourless – starting to feel as if it believes it’s saying and doing more than the upfront elements.

At just under two-hours this is a long assessment, particularly because of the drawn out nature of the third act and just how much it wants to get show in that time as an explanation to what we’ve seen beforehand. As character interactions become more heated and confrontational the film itself loses steam as things deviate from the initial ideas which work well enough, if somewhat basically at times. There’s a likable nature in the first half, and in some moments afterwards, when it appears to have a more playful nature, and is aware that one of its key players is acting like a (albeit aging) child.

Starting off as a likable dramedy, helped by performances which understand the comedic elements, The Assessment dips off the more dramatic it gets. Working until multiple tangents cause it to become a different, less successful, film which doesn’t say as much as it perhaps wants to.

Release Date – 7th March 2025, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 44 minutes, Director – Laura Carreira

Portuguese immigrant Aurora (Joana Santos) spends much of her time working as a picker at a fulfilment centre, she wishes for a better job that will allow her more social contact.

I don’t entirely know what it is about On Falling that causes it to click, but whatever it is it’s loud and effective. A key connection is formed with quiet and isolated fulfilment centre picker Aurora (a fantastic Joana Santos), who herself is looking for connection and social contact which her job deprives her from. Only getting brief opportunities to talk to co-workers during breaks and barely seeing her flatmates, in a flat as cramped as her workplaces shelves, due to working nightshifts Aurora wishes for a job that both pays more and allows her more social contact.

We see her struggle, physically and mentally, in the wake of her consistent isolation. During key sequences that could open up doors for her, the camera staying still on her face as she struggles to come up with an answer in a job interview, there’s a worry of both wanting to see her succeed and fearing that things aren’t going well in the moment. The interview scene in question is truly painful, as is the tension of worrying that she’s going to be caught avoiding work in order to make the interview. At the end of the film my only thought was simply hoping that the character will truly be alright in the end.

Feature debut writer-director Laura Carreira understands the subtleties and the quiet, sometimes unnoticeable, details of isolation and loneliness. As does Santos who carries the weight, made heavier by hints of anxiety, of the mental impact on her physical person. Again, full of subtleties but which all add to a greater impact and quiet connection with the film as a whole and the story that it tells. One which to some extent does tell a ‘day-to-day’ story in a ‘slice-of-life’ vein while tackling multiple issues through the natural lens of Aurora and the struggles that she faces. Each in some way could be a contributing factor to her loneliness, and indeed many seem difficult to overcome or change; such as the way she’s undermined and patronised at work or the key theme of the immigrant experience as Portuguese-born Aurora, now living in Scotland, tries to connect with fellow immigrants but gets little opportunity to, or other circumstances in their lives arise.

Scenes which could so easily feel out of place or tacked on for the run-time have just as much power as moments of upfront worry, and at times warmth, or even irritation when Aurora’s hard work is acknowledged by being allowed to pick a chocolate bar from a tray in her boss’ office, because of Santos’ expressions and how she works with Carreira to convey loneliness in such a fantastically empathetic way. It all adds to the detail of the central character and her experiences, and the directions she wishes to take life as her current circumstances seem almost endless.

A wonderfully empathetic depiction of isolation and loneliness this is a strong debut filled with understanding from Laura Carreira, with a brilliant lead turn from Joana Santos who fantastically carries the physical weight of her character’s mental state through the worry, tension and hope we experience for her.

Release Date – 11th April 2025, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 40 minutes, Directors – Kevin Macdonald, Sam Rice-Edwards

John Lennon and Yoko Ono arrive in New York peacefully, and looking to spread peace and love, however American society at the time displays the opposite of this, including towards them, leading them to put together the One To One concerts.

Part concert film, part portrait of 1970s America, One To One is the world as seen through the eyes of John and Yoko. Arriving in New York City the pair are looking for a calm life where days of watching TV can fuel their creativity in both music and activism – clips of shows and adverts from the time crop up every now and then. While a young group of singers may claim they want to buy the world a Coke and sing in harmony the Vietnam War continues, with the central couple passionately speaking out against it.

Early on I realised that despite having heard a good deal of his music and a couple of images I knew very little about John Lennon, and almost nothing about Yoko Ono outside of rumours and theories relating to The Beatles. Kevin Macdonald and Sam Rice-Edwards’ documentary shows the two in a naturalistic light. One where they’re aware of their celebrity and how they can use it to spread their message of peace and love but clips of phone calls and their personal lives show two people passionate about the causes they believe in and the projects they work on to push them. Lennon particularly comes across as a really nice, passionate guy, even as the threat of being deported from America for his words and actions, whilst trying to look after his family grows.

The events of the film build up to the One To One concerts, Lennon’s only full live concert appearance after the breakup of The Beatles. The concert sequences are designed to be played big and loud. At an early morning screening the sound felt as if it caused the room to vibrate, with further energy pouring from the screen visuals of the concert where each performer on stage puts their whole self into the music and the cause at hand. One which is effectively built up to as both a singular point and encompassing the film as a whole. Not just in regards to the relationship between Ono and Lennon, which takes something of a secondary theme, but the depiction of America at the time which is so core to why the film works and has the impact that it does. Why the protests and acts of activism throughout have the effect that they do. With a handful of conversations relating to them bringing a smile through both the passion with which things are being spoken about and the purely entertaining nature of the film.

One To One is a film about many different relationships; that of the titular couple, theirs with America, America’s with its citizens, with itself, the world and those within society. They blend together seamlessly within the grander portrait constructed as part of the footage which makes up much of the documentary. Coming together with ease, a number of which naturally crop up as part of other themes and relationships. Giving a greater insight into the world as it was seen, and reacted to, by John and Yoko, and those around them. It makes for an interesting and enjoyable documentary that’s made to be seen loud with energy coming from both the highlight concert sequences and the passion being exuded by the pair at the fore of the concert’s music.

A portrait of early-70s America as seen through the eyes of John and Yoko, One To One is an entertainingly passionate documentary naturally capturing multiple relationships while still feeling focused, see it big and loud.

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.