Release Date – 20th September 2024, Cert – 18, Run-time – 2 hours 21 minutes, Director – Coralie Fargeat

After being fired from her daytime fitness show, fading celebrity Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore) takes a mysterious drug which creates a younger version of herself (Margaret Qualley), however not keeping the balance of lives leads to strong physical consequences for both.

Whenever a new body horror comes out the term Cronenbergian is frequently thrown around a bit too much. It’s a go to term – as Get Out has become in relation to not just anymore any Black horror, but almost any praised horror in general – for the sub-genre, but when it comes to Coralie Fargeat’s sophomore feature the phrase feels deserved. The satirical edges brought to mind the jabs held within the likes of Videodrome and Crash, with the blood and gore being used to exemplify the themes at hand.

Taking down age and beauty standards we follow Demi Moore’s Elisabeth Sparkle. As he star on the Hollywood Walk Of Fame has cracked over the years her fame has too – ‘wasn’t she in that one movie from years ago?’ Travelling home from being fired from her daytime fitness show, Elisabeth is involved in a car crash – from which she emerges unscathed – and at the hospital is indirectly informed by a doctor about a drug known as The Substance. After injecting with the promise of a better, younger her from Elisabeth emerges Sue (Margaret Qualley); a figure who (promised that they are one) Elisabeth must balance her life with or risk the consequences.

As Sue’s fame grows, and she gets her own much more sexualised fitness show replacing Elisabeth’s, her want and need to be in the spotlight – and indulge in the all the pleasures of it does too. The 7 days-7 days balance is quickly broken and the effects are quickly shown on Moore’s character with some wonderful practical make-up effects. A lingering sense of fascination grows as to how she will deal with her changing life/ lives backed by a subtle feeling of dread as she continues to use The Substance for the sake of ‘her’ own career.

Moore wonderfully captures the conflicting thoughts with both drama and occasional humour. One scene showing her trying to get revenge on Sue contrasted with the praise lauded upon Qualley’s character is a brilliant slice of comedic spite as Elisabeth isolates herself in her kitchen seemingly conjuring recipes in a witchlike manner. Contrasting with the sign of her losing hope and faith in her own looks after having been invited to meet an old school friend for dinner. As Elisabeth looks in the mirror trying all sorts of makeup styles and combinations there’s a pain and frustration in her eyes, full of self-doubt, consciousness, anxiety and uncertainty. Self-love and care fly out the window, foreign concepts that this fast-moving world simply won’t allow room for.

Moore and Qualley barely share the screen together (at least while the other’s character is conscious) but the sparks fly from one to the other with increasing heat and rage as the narrative develops. Both fall into the opinionated hands of a world led by the likes of Dennis Quaid’s scene-stealing TV producer Harvey. A role initially meant to be played by Ray Liotta before his death, in his hands you can imagine a much more directly creepy and intense figure (you can’t help but think that the character’s called Harvey for a reason). Quaid brings to the role a camped up performance that brings in the laughs at the expense of the character who still manages to bring about a sinister and overbearing nature when looming over the central characters and determining the fates of their careers.

As things barrel towards the third act the body horror and prosthetics increase (this feels like it should be a lock-in for a Hair And Makeup Oscar nod, alongside Production Design thanks to the somewhat alienating nature of certain environments, and how Elisabeth’s apartment varies in its depiction depending on tone and character) without feeling there for the sake of mindless gore. It’s contained within the satire and jabs of the film, which allows it to have more of an effect in the moments when major reveals appear on screen for the first time, and then are gone into more detail. Not an all out film, although certainly when it goes for it it does so with a good deal of drive, not avoiding getting more than just its hands dirty.

Fargeat makes sure that the themes of her film are wound into each scene and detail. It makes for a focused piece of work that still manages to embrace the chaos that it focuses on. The fighting thoughts of doubt going through Elisabeth’s mind as mental conflict becomes multiple physical ones, all in the face of appearing and being just as the world that she’s a part of demands for money and relevancy. Throughout, there’s a good deal of impact from the 18-rated horror that’s on display, but never at expense or as a cheap getaway from the narrative and satire at hand. Pushed by a set of great performances at the centre, there’s both a strong, striking feeling as soon as the film finishes – at both what it had to say, and how it did it – and a good deal of moments and ideas that have continued to stir in my mind a good few days after first seeing it. The Substance is a film with bite, sinking its teeth in so that the marks remain a few days after.

Consistently moving its narrative along whilst turning up the heat of the growing personal mental and physical conflicts, The Substance is an effective body horror satire led by an excellent central performance from Demi Moore, where the gore has plenty of thematic and shocking effect.

Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 50 minutes, Director – James Watkins

An American family (Scoot McNairy, Mackenzie Davis, Alix West Lefler) are invited to spend the weekend at the isolated home of a British family (James McAvoy, Aisling Franciosi, Dan Hough) they met on holiday, however their hosts’ friendly attitudes quickly darken.

2022’s Danish horror Speak No Evil is a film heightened by its shades of European darkness. A sense of hopelessness emphasises the final half hour’s spiral descent into Hell – truly one of the bleakest things I’ve ever seen – which it feels an American remake (calling this an English-language remake feels wrong when a good chunk of the original is in English) wouldn’t want to stray near.

Indeed, this quickly turned around remake has its similarities to the original. Aside from the same narrative build-up and developments a handful of shots feel borrowed in terms of style and composition. Yet, this take on the tale of a family who visit the isolated home of another after meeting on holiday does have its extra elements. There’s no attempt to hide the darkness of the hosts as James McAvoy’s Paddy in particular (whose accent shifts throughout from generic British to auditioning for The Wurzels) plays up the thinly concealed rage from very early on.

Added into the mix are rifts between central American couple Ben (Scoot McNairy) and Louise (Mackenzie Davis), and a developed relationship between their daughter, Agnes (Alix West Lefler) and Paddy and Ciara’s (Aisling Franciosi) son Ant (Dan Hough) – apparently silent due to a medical condition which means he has a smaller tongue – revealing some of the true intentions at play. Such moments largely lean into the idea that the film knows the audience is aware that not everything is quite as it seems with McAvoy and Franciosi’s characters from early on. It’s not just the trailers giving something away, it’s more a key detail of the film and seeing how Ben, Louise and Agnes are going to escape; if at all.

By doing this there’s a less dark, pacier version of this story playing out, likely helped by the removal of ice-cold dead-pan intensity – which feels unnatural to this particular film, and most other American remakes of international features. However, while there’s less darkness this is no bad thing, the intensity is still present in places; largely in the third act, and the British hosts bring in a discomforting air through the fluctuating faces they present to their guests.

Where things truly get into their own though is in the third act. An extended set of events which rattle along with the pace of an escape thriller. As the film creates its own events the tension and threat are ramped up, making the familiar beats, and one or two additions which don’t entirely click; such as hints that Louise cheated on Ben six months prior, more worthwhile.

Certainly as things play out there’s a clear layer of threat at hand bringing out the horror of feeling trapped with people who you both don’t know and may not be presenting their true selves. A set of good performances mean that the ensemble effectively bounce off of, or rather deflect a good deal of the time, each other effectively and bring out the discomfort and tension at hand. Building up to a third act that goes out of its way to make something different where you forget about possible likely scenarios from a (in some respects) tamer American remake as you’re caught up in the pacey tension of the thriller-like climax.

With the darkness toned down, although still present, this remake leans into the clear threat of the hosts and the discomfort they create, focusing less on dead-pan bleakness and more on building to a thriller sensibility that’s handled well by both the pacey nature of the story, with its additional elements, and the ensemble cast.

Release Date – 13th September 2024, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 41 minutes, Director – Anand Tucker

After being fired by a new editor for his overly negative reviews, drama critic Jimmy Erskine (Ian McKellen) enlists the help of an actress (Gemma Arterton) he has frequently trashed to help him keep his job.

In recent weeks Sir Ian McKellen has assured audiences that he will not retire “as long as the legs, lungs and mind keep working”. As long as this is the case it seems that we’re on track for more consistently strong performances from the acclaimed actor for some time, even if the projects themselves aren’t the strongest. This is certainly the case for The Critic, which sees McKellen charge forward with a glint in his eye as scheming theatre critic Jimmy Erskine.

For decades Erskine has been a staple of newspaper The Daily Chronicle’s writing staff. Known for his frequently scathing reviews he views his harshness as the reason people read his column, and in part as to why the paper holds its regard. However, when the editor passes away his son (Mark Strong) takes over and looks to make changes, including bringing the Chronicle back to its family roots and properly into the 20th Century, this is the 1930s after all; and that includes sacking anyone who isn’t willing to comply. When this includes Jimmy, told that the paper has no choice after his public displays of ‘unnatural’ homosexual activity, his mind sets instantly to revenge as a way to get his job back.

This involves enlisting the help of actress Nina Land (Gemma Arterton), who he has slated every performance of, to try and seduce editor David. The development in the relationship between Jimmy and Nina is swift, going from written rivals to face-to-face confrontations before a quick team-up which becomes riddled with doubt and regret the actual teaming up, led by McKellen promising the actress a brighter future as she ages because of positive reviews from him, feels more in place to simply reach the effects and reactions in the later stages. Nina is told that she simply needs to grow her confidence and think less about the audience, as this becomes the case for her Arterton’s performance also becomes more confident, particularly as her character becomes more caught in the narrative web that’s being cast.

It may be easy to see the general directions in which the plot is going, there’s an air of predictability to the overall structure of the plot beats throughout, especially as they open up more for the third act. But, there are still a number of enjoyable throughout. McKellen is clearly enjoying performing some of the wittier lines of a screenplay filled with entertaining snippets of blistering reviews and phrases such as “she besieged me with her opinion!” – a highlight line referring to Lesley Manville’s largely unseen mother to Nina praising the first half of her latest performance in the theatre bar.

It’s only around the halfway point as Jimmy’s plan properly comes into effect that you see how many different layers and strands there are. At times the film begins to feel a bit too busy, although avoids feeling overstuffed, as its various possible, and actual, directions begin to overlap and, albeit often occasionally, tangle into one scene or montage. There’s a watchable nature to most of the proceedings, even if the closing stages feel particularly rushed as almost all final developments appear to happen at once, and certainly there are some highlight entertaining nuggets of dialogue here and there, just the film’s events are hampered by a sense of predictability which gets in the way of some of the overall enjoyment, despite the efforts of the case – particularly another strong turn from McKellen.

While predictability gets in the way of potential entertainment factor there are still some enjoyable elements within The Critic’s tangling web of scheming particularly in some of the dialogue spoken with clear pleasure from a wonderful Ian McKellen.

Cert – 12, Run-time – 1 hour 45 minutes, Director – Tim Burton

Whilst being hunted by his ex-wife (Monica Bellucci), Betelgeuse (Michael Keaton) is summoned by Lydia Deetz (Winona Ryder) after her teenage daughter (Jenna Ortega) becomes trapped in the afterlife.

Michael Keaton’s 600-year-dead bio-exorcist only appears on-screen in Tim Burton’s Beetlejuice for around 17 minutes. Yet, he’s one of the biggest takeaways from the film, despite only largely appearing and interfering in the final stages of the 1988 horror-comedy. While he might have a couple more minutes of screen-time in this long-discussed sequel the (now doubly) titular character gets just about as much to do, and again largely feels mostly used in the ‘remember this?’ throwback details of the climactic stages.

Talk of a Beetlejuice sequel has bubbled for years, pretty much since the release of the original. Multiple storylines have likely been and gone, and it certainly feels like most of the characters from them appear here. While Geena Davis and Alec Baldwin don’t appear – apparently having found a loophole meaning they could leave their home – and Jeffrey Jones’ face is understandably only on gravestones and replicated in animated form to depict his character’s death; his body, missing its top half, occasionally seen wandering around the afterlife, it seems that almost every character possibly featured in previous versions of this film crop up here.

Strands build together with loose links to bring things together in the third act, but overall the narrative beginnings feel jumbled, and occasionally completely forgotten about as focus shifts eventually back to the Deetz family. Lydia (Winona Ryder) is estranged from her teenage daughter, Astrid (Jenna Ortega), who doesn’t believe in the paranormal nonsense she tackles on her TV show, Ghost House. However, when Astrid is trapped in the afterlife Lydia must get the help of Beetlejuice, hiding in his office from his revived and stapled-together, soul-sucking ex-wife (Monica Bellucci) who could end his own afterlife. Meanwhile Willem Dafoe runs around as a joke that never takes off, a former Hollywood action star who takes on the role of a cop in the land of the dead chasing after both Keaton and Bellucci.

While it’s nice to see the practical effects and general visual style, particularly in the other-worldly sequences, they often get lost amongst the constantly rebounding nature of the elements trying to construct a plot. There’s certainly something here, but it comes around very late in the day after what feels like an hour of separate build-ups with ideas and sequences dropping off like severed limbs. Once the actual narrative appears to kick in and we properly see the corridors of the afterlife from the Deetz’s perspective the events feel rushed, thin and simply wanting to get to the big finale.

Keaton is on good form and likable playing into the relaxed role, and some of the more enjoyable moments of the film simply involve him leading his team of shrunken-head workers manning the phones of his bio-exorcism business. While brief and largely acting as re-introductions to the characters they’re amongst the most laid back moments. As a whole the film fails to get many laughs, the few that are created are all courtesy of Catherine O’Hara’s returning artist, and step-mother to Lydia, Delia. For the most part the humour feels lacking, either never fully pushed or overfamiliar, and in some cases generally out of place – removing Dafoe’s character from this film would likely do very little to the overall arc. When more relaxed and throwaway the overall tone and effect of the humour is better and things feel smoother.

Yet, with how much is happening, and the amount of different characters in different places (I haven’t even mentioned Justin Theroux as Lydia’s partner Rory) at different times, there’s an almost overstuffed feeling to Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. Treading along the old while trying to bring in the new from various angles. With this in mind, the film it reminded me most of was fellow legacy sequel Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire, although this certainly feels like a more direct (although belated) sequel with less focus on legacy elements, although there are a handful here and there. And while there are glimmers of likable ideas and moments dotted about within Beetlejuice Beetlejuice the full film also gains something of a cold reception.

At its best when more relaxed and allowed a moment to breathe, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is full of frequently dropped characters and strands which rarely manage to conjure a laugh before moving on to further build-up for a rushed time once the narrative properly kicks in.

Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 43 minutes, Director – Zoë Kravitz

Cocktail waitress Frida (Naomi Ackie) is invited to the private island of tech billionaire Slater King (Channing Tatum), however the longer she spends there the more she questions what she remembers of each day.

The revelations of Blink Twice happen in quick succession. Once the first is unveiled the rest follow for various characters in consistent flow, largely combining to the core of the film’s central point. While the trailers may feel as if they point towards some of this, it’s safe to say here that everything on the private island of tech billionaire Slater King (Channing Tatum) is not as it seems.

Cocktail waitresses Frida (Naomi Ackie) and Jess (Alia Shawkat) sneak into a celebration being held by King’s company and find themselves invited to the island for the duration of his latest trip. With everyone’s phones shut away in a bag held by Slater’s assistant, Stacy (Geena Davis – who it feels like the film wants to do more with but is largely seen fumbling with handfuls of bags and assuring Slater that his new chair is fine in its latest location), days are spent drinking and partying around the pool before a gourmet meal prepared by Simon Rex’s Cody. However, as time passes as Frida explores more hidden areas of the island she begins to feel as if there’s something being hidden from her, or perhaps she’s forgetting something. The indeterminate amount of time spent on the island mixed with the repetition of the days brings about a sinister Groundhog Day feeling.

Co-writer (alongside E.T. Feigenbaum) and debut director Zoë Kravitz goes full force with a fiery third act fuelled by the increasing heat of the discoveries and pieced-together events across the narrative. For the most part the timing and intrigue of these closing stages is handled well, however when it comes to rounding things off the film is brought to a quick conclusion while still feeling as if it has one or two pieces it could still run with. Perhaps due to how quick the final stages feel in comparison to the looping style of the initial partying and enjoyment of the island, where the focus is very much still on Ackie and Shawkat’s characters, before also introducing Adria Arjona’s reality survival series star Sarah.

These three figures have the core detail when it comes to characters. While Tatum’s tech mogul, claiming to invest himself in therapy after the way he ran his company was met with online criticism leading to an apology video on Instagram, has his own detail everyone else around him – including the likes of Christian Slater, Haley Joel Osment and Kyle MacLachlan – feel somewhat one-dimensional; perhaps intentionally so to push the film’s themes, or maybe an effect from the fact that they, too, don’t have a great deal to do.

The mysteries unfold effectively throughout as things are pieced together well. Gradually at first but then in a sudden rush in the catharsis, tension and fire of the third act. There may be some bumps during Blink Twice, but as a whole it works well particularly when it comes to the timing of how events unfold and the mystery unravels, and a consistent sense of threat alongside it. More time could be given to how things are rounded off, but with the pace and force given to the third act, it certainly has a thrilling impact in the moment.

While certain characters and the overall resolution could do with more time and detail, Blink Twice is a film made with fiery force, contained in the growing sinister mystery which unfurls in a thrilling, consistent flow as the closing stages near.

Cert – 18, Run-time – 1 hour 51 minutes, Director – Rupert Sanders

Eric (Bill Skarsgård) is brought back from the dead to avenge the murder of his partner, Shelly (FKA twigs), and her friends from a wealthy crime boss (Danny Huston) who may have links to the devil.

1994’s adaptation of The Crow is certainly a product of its decade. While mostly associated with the death of lead Brandon Lee during production the film’s dark tones and edges are helped by an element of campiness, particularly in regards to Michael Wincott’s villain, and how it leans into fantasy. A remake has been in the works for years, and has experienced multiple bouts of development hell since 2008. The one we eventually get finds itself trying to be more based in as recognisable a world as possible, trying not to alienate as mainstream an audience as possible.

Thus, instead of getting the the crow action and story of vengeance we spend time establishing a quasi-romantic drama between two self-confessed broken people. Having met in a strict rehab centre, silent-until-now Eric (Bill Skarsgård) and Shelly (FKA twigs) escape when figures who the latter was on the run from arrive just a matter of days after she’s arrived. The only logical place to stay is of course exactly where she was staying right before she found herself in rehab – there are multiple times where when something goes wrong, or they learn people are after them, the pair go straight back to where they’ve been staying. But why worry about that when we can see multiple instances of just how much these strangers with so much in common – after stepping into a circle during a group session every time they match a trait of trauma – love each other.

However, a chain of murders eventually leads to Shelly and after a few more acknowledgements of just how broken the central pair are they’re caught up with and murdered. Yet, while his partner’s soul is trapped in Hell, Eric finds himself stuck in the presumptive purgatory of an abandoned train station. Now with regenerative abilities he can travel from the land of the living to the dead, as long as his love remains pure, to track down the crime boss (Danny Huston) responsible for his death, not knowing he might have links to the devil.

Brooding appears to be the core personality trait that this iteration of The Crow wants to exemplify. It feels like a mask covering the feeling that not everyone’s hearts are truly invested in the project, as if thinking it would be cancelled at any time; despite this take having been in the works since around 2020. The vengeance arc, once finally established, plods along with little interest as signs of darkness feel largely performative rather than properly a part of the world. As we jump back and forth between the lands of the living and the dead, and indeed hero and villain, the film feels tonally inconsistent. Even the performances appear to change from scene to scene – Skarsgård’s character changes wildly throughout the film as if making up for the lack of emotional variety in twigs’ performance.

The most emotion comes through in an extended fight sequence where the blood flows down the stairs of a theatre as Skarsgård’s character makes his way closer to his targets. As an opera is performed in the background the action unfolds in an entertaining fashion as if being enjoyed by those who are a part of bringing it together, as if this has been the main focus all along – despite not even being the climax of the film. It’s a brief sequence in comparison to the rest of the film around it, but it has something of a lasting effect into the final stages of a largely murky and inconsistent run-time.

By not embracing its elements of fantasy The Crow instead chooses to focus on the term ‘broken’ without doing anything apart from repeat the word multiple times. Tonally inconsistent and lacking heart in a story of love-fuelled vengeance, the shades of entertainment are held to one very late scene.

Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 51 minutes, Director – Nathan Silver

A grieving cantor (Jason Schwartzman) develops a friendship with his childhood music teacher (Carol Kane) when she comes to him for adult bat mitzvah lessons.

Jason Schwartzman’s cantor Ben has been unable to sing for almost a year. He sits to the right of the platform mouthing the words while Rabbi Bruce (Robert Smigel) leads and sings the prayers. When attempting to sing the notes turn into a series of spluttering coughs, all having started after the loss of his wife just over a year before. Ben may not outwardly speak about his feelings, but he physically holds them with the weight that is clearly on his shoulders. This is a different depiction of grief from Schwartzman to the highly internalised turn seen in Wes Anderson’s Asteroid City just last year, yet one which still holds plenty of restraint and subtlety.

The early stages of Between The Temples pitch a frequent cringe-comedy, the opening scene sees Ben meeting a young woman brought around by his mothers (Caroline Aaron and Dolly De Leon – both of whom bring about plenty of chuckles in each of their scenes). The awkwardness of the introduction is thick in the air as the mention of a doctor makes Ben think that this may be a trial with a psychiatrist. However, what follows is a much more subdued dramedy that puts the former of the genres to the fore the more the run-time progresses.

After drowning his sorrows in mudslides one evening in a distant bar Ben is taken home by his childhood music teacher, Carla (Carol Kane). Not long after she turns up at his temple while he’s teaching a group of young people ahead of their bar and bat mitvahs, wishing to have her own later-life bat mitzvah, with her one-on-one adult lessons taught by Ben. The basis of the relationship is initially uncertain, particularly with Ben’s reluctance towards the lessons, however as a friendship and understanding blossoms between the pair there’s an interesting dynamic formed. As grief and identity come into play – Carla wants to reconnect with her Jewish roots before she married her late husband – the film gently shows Ben stepping back into the world without as much of an invisible shield around him, at least when it comes to his relationships.

This particularly shown in his interactions with Rabbi Bruce’s recently-single daughter Gabby (Madeline Weinstein) – who bears a resemblance to Ben’s wife. Weinstein herself captures a shared awkwardness with Schwartzman when it comes to conversations with other people at events, particularly those hosted by De Leon’s character at the temple. There’s a clear contrast between the tone and nature of their relationship between the budding teacher-student friendship with Carla.

Where these strands are eventually taken may not sit well with everyone as they divert from the directions which appear to be set out and growing throughout – certainly a climactic Shabbat dinner brings in key points which don’t entirely feel justified or built up to by the rest of the film. Perhaps also down to the slow-burn style of the narrative, which can occasionally bring in the feeling that things are slightly overlong or simply just slow, we spend so long with certain ideas that a sudden switch comes as something of a surprise, especially late in the day.

However, perhaps the largest consequence is that the central relationships in Ben’s life are bookended with uncertainty as to where they stand, and more for the viewer rather than for him – still trying to work his way through grief and find a sense of grounding amongst his mind and emotions. There are likable beats throughout, particularly when it comes to the scatterings of more cringe-based comedy, which aren’t as frequent as the opening scene might suggest, and as a whole the gentle, slow-burn nature of the film works. However, what really carries it through is the weight of Schwartzman’s performance and just how his character carries himself through the changing situations he faces, and at times creates – even if not always having the effect the film might hope for.

While the relationships we see Jason Schwartzman’s wonderfully performed lead character form may be bookended with degrees of uncertainty for the viewer, there are still elements to like in-between thanks to the quiet, if gradual, course of Between The Temples, and its occasional humour.

Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 59 minutes, Director – Fede Álvarez

Desperate to escape their mining colony for a new planet, a group of young people break into an abandoned space station to steal cryochambers, however find deadly, spreading lifeforms across the ship.

After universe and lore expanding prequels and sequels, some more divisive than those which are almost universally considered poor entries, the Alien franchise takes a turn back towards the basics as horror director Fede Álvarez takes the reins for this latest instalment set between Alien and Aliens. The tone leans more towards the former as a group of young members of a mining colony break into a space station in the hope of getting cryochambers which will help them survive the journey to a better planet where there’s actually daylight. However, as the title and franchise might imply, the abandoned station may not be home to the former crew but is housing deadly xenomorphs and facehuggers; multiplying and spreading across the ship as the run-time goes on.

It takes some time for the alien action to properly kick in as we’re introduced to Cailee Spaeny’s Rain – who the film avoids pitching as the ‘new Ripley’, allowing for her performance to come through more – and her synthetic human, although viewed by her as a brother, Andy (David Jonsson). Her time on the mining colony is extended in the opening scenes, however she takes the risky offer from some old friends of helping to escape instead of spending another 12 years trapped. Once everything is finally in place and we’re on the ship – with a chip from a broken android causing Andy to update and become a much more formal, analytical and skilled figure – things can finally get going.

It’s apparent fairly quickly just who’s going to get picked off, and indeed a couple of the small group are disposed of not long after the introduction of the first facehuggers. A herd of them breaking out of a room and pouring into a corridor, racing towards the protagonists, is a highlight of the film that really makes the most of the crawling movements of the creatures before they launch straight towards a likely victim. When dealing with the physical there are some good moments within Romulus to get across brief creeps.

As for the more prolonged horror as the remaining crew try to survive with a damaged ship hurtling towards a planets rings, and therefore destruction, the scares aren’t quite as present. The overall feeling is that of one of the many Alien knock-off films that we’ve seen plenty of in the four-and-a-half decades since the original horror classic. This isn’t to say that Romulus looks and feels cheap, there have been plenty of likable Alien-light films over the years, and this feeling in the veins of something like 2017’s Life.

Romulus certainly features some good ideas to add to the mix throughout, a sequence involving zero gravity is particularly enjoyable, especially when worked into a climactic set of events. A set of events which feel as if they should be nearing the closing stages, but instead the proceedings are extended with an almost new strand that has much more time spent on it than the build-up would suggest is going to be the case. The events which almost feel like the bulk of the third act feel overlong and enter ridiculous territory. The extent of the stretch – both in terms of run-time and narrative – comes from almost nowhere after the more focused, and albeit familiar-leaning, events beforehand.

Perhaps the case is one idea too many, as those which are introduced throughout and worked into the fight for survival nature of the narrative when unfolding on the space station makes for a likable, if not always scary, set of events. There’s nothing wrong with leaning more into familiar territory within the Alien franchise, especially with the general response to the directions taken since Aliens. However, occasionally things feel more like a film inspired by the franchise rather than an actual entry into it, especially with how long it takes to actually see a xenomorph or facehugger. Things may occasionally feel somewhat slow as they get from one set-piece to another, but there’s a good deal to like about the overall course and template of Alien: Romulus.

Leaning into the original leanings of the franchise, Alien: Romulus may occasionally feel like a film inspired by the series, but there’s enough likable and creepy moments to see it through and make for an effective sci-fi escape horror with some solid lead performances.

Release Date – 23rd August 2024, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 43 minutes, Director – Tilman Singer

After encountering strange figures and screeches in the night, Gretchen (Hunter Schafer) discovers a sinister side to the quiet alpine resort her parents (Marton Csokas, Jessica Henwick) have been invited to.

The German alpine resort in which Cuckoo takes place in feels like an area trapped in another time. The 60s style décor and architecture is matched by the colour palette which is emphasised by the cinematography. Pair it with the fact that the resort is almost void of guests, and has very minimal staff, and it feels as if the area is recovering from being subjected to nuclear radiation. Perhaps this explains some of the strange goings on which teenage Gretchen (Hunter Schafer) encounters when her family are invited to stay, with her coming along at the last minute in the wake of her mother’s death.

Father Luis (Marton Csokas), distant step-mother Beth (Jessica Henwick) and mute step-sister Alma (Mila Lieu) are all greeted warmly by resort owner Herr Konig (Dan Stevens). Apparently invited so that Luis and Beth can work on developing a new resort for him, Gretchen seems to be almost instantly mistrusting of Konig. The same goes for the audience as Stevens creates an immediately skin-crawling figure. Everything isn’t as it seems might not apply to this film as the creepiness is already clear as soon as he appears on screen and begins to speak, his presence in a scene puts you on edge, wondering what he’s hiding or planning.

Is he behind the strange screeching noises which appear to shake the surroundings, seemingly reversing time for a few seconds, or is it the covered-up figures running through the night, one attacking Gretchen on her way back home from working late at the resort’s reception – having been told not to do so. As Gretchen explores more the fear factor effectively comes through in what we don’t know. It’s clear that something is going on, at not point is there ambiguity or a question as to if everything is in her head, part of the fear factor is how no one appears to believe her, and indeed the state of the resort, its fully functioning on-site hospital, and the overall abandoned aesthetic.

Jump scares aren’t the priority here, there’s only one over the 103-minute run-time and it’s very effective, instead building up the creepiness is the focus as Gretchen tries to uncover what might be happening behind the scenes at the resort, and why her family were really invited. As the investigation grows there are answers, although not quite enough when it comes to the third act. Just a bit more context would help to lift the climactic events a bit more, and stop the film from almost becoming tangled in itself. While we get some answers it feels as if some context is left out that would provide a more satisfying set of conclusions, and a general basis for what has come beforehand.

It creates an unevenness to the closing stages which while still providing something enjoyable, especially in the deadly confrontations which move more towards the centre as the end point gets closer. Even as she gets increasingly beaten-up and bandaged with each attack and encounter she faces you buy into Gretchen’s determination thanks to Schafer’s leading turn, her performance is part of what helps move the third act along and holds engagement amongst the mild dissatisfaction of not getting certain answers which could heighten the threat at hand.

Yet, for a good portion of the run-time, as Gretchen is investigating, occasionally with help from one or two of the few other faces at the resort, there’s a good deal to enjoy and be creeped out by the lingering sense of threat in the air – one which changes and turns into a much more upfront threat in the latter stages where the film makes something of a shift. It doesn’t derail things, and there’s still a lot to like and feel effective horror from beforehand, particularly thanks to Schafer’s central performance, and the fear-inducing presence of Stevens’ character, but if it provided a few more answers when needed then Cuckoo could be a much more solid horror from start to finish.

For the most part Cuckoo’s aesthetics and performances make for a creepy set of events with plenty of tension and fear factor, however things are let down in a third act which somewhat shifts threat and would be more effective with more contextual answers.

Release Date – 23rd August 2024, Cert – 18, Run-time – 1 hour 45 minutes, Director – Rich Peppiatt

Belfast-based hip-hop group Kneecap (themselves) rise to fame against pressure from the police for their Irish-language republican lyrics, and anti-drug republicans for their drug-based lyrics and consumption.

When it comes to the waves of recent musical biopics Kneecap is perhaps the boldest since Rocketman – and for very different reasons. A proud and defiant telling of the origins and rise of the Irish hip-hop group of the same name, the trio effectively play themselves in the grounded lead roles, this is a loud and unashamed telling of events. One less concerned with being a biopic and telling the story of the group and more the one of their message and the divisive responses to it.

Childhood friends Naoise and Liam Óg are constantly under the eye of the law, largely for reasons relating to drugs, and the republican activities of Naoise’s father Arlo (Michael Fassbender), despite not being seen publicly for years after divisive reports of his death. After a notebook of Liam’s falls into the hands of music teacher JJ, after acting as translator during a police questioning, the trio are brought together when the elder sees potential in the Irish-language lyrics scribbled down amongst the occasional sheet of LSD. Soon his garage-made backing mixed with the pair’s passionate words, and the odd drug session, leads to a handful of tracks which quickly connect with listeners. Rapidly growing from a few faces in the local pub to sold out concerts.

However, the West Belfast-based group have plenty of critics. The police are on their tail, waiting to strike against anything they perceive as anti-British messaging – the group in real life have said that their work isn’t anti-Brit and that this is a false spin – or stirring too much controversy. Meanwhile, a group of anti-drug republicans are after the boys for their constant promotion of banned substances. The group, known as Radical Republicans Against Drugs, are a source of comic relief, largely from not always having their message straight or agreed upon before going into a situation, or not knowing how to pronounce RRAD. However, behind the humour there’s still a layer of tension through the potentially violent threat that they pose to Naoise and Liam.

There’s plenty of humour throughout the film, both naturally springing up from the bond and escapades of the titular trio and also some more surprising moments – certain phrases exclaimed by Liam and protestant girlfriend Georgia (Jessica Reynolds) during sex scenes contain strong pause then laugh moments. Although, perhaps the biggest surprise comes during a performance in front of a large rap where the music takes a brief pause to make way for an unexpected, yet welcome, Pinky And The Brain reference.

The raps are belted with passion and that comes across in the overall tone and style of the film. When dealing with the core messaging of the group against the backdrop of campaigns for an Irish Language Act to officially recognise the language in Northern Ireland the film is at its best. When glimpsing strands relating to the RRAD and Naoise’s father the elements feel somewhat undercooked. There are still points to like, however with these moments not being the core focus of the narrative, although playing key elements at times, they don’t quite have the same feeling of prominence or detail that could provide them with more overall weight.

As a story of passion and defiance Kneecap is told with strength and humour. In some way perhaps helped by the fact that the real life figures play themselves, a decision which could end badly but here is a complete success. There’s an edge to the proceedings without feeling overbearing or as if it’s trying to disassociate itself from the viewer or show how different it is. Instead it comes through in a clear boldness which brings about a feeling far from a conventional musical biopic, and one that stands out from the rest of the crowd in terms of its style and tone. One that brings you in with plenty of laughs and connections with the titular group that radiate from the screen and speakers with loud colour and sound.

Kneecap is a bold and passionate telling of the titular group’s origins and defiant fight against their critics. Well-performed by the real life trio, bringing about plenty of humour, and capturing occasional threat and tension, this is a film with heaps of bite and personality.