Release Date – TBC, Cert – TBC, Run-time – 1 hour 20 minutes, Director – Ehsan Khoshbakht

Ehsan Khoshbakht takes a personal lookback at the underground cinema culture during his days in Iran, and the people who helped keep film alive.

Celluloid Underground is a personal love letter from director Ehsan Khoshbakht not just celluloid and cinema but to projector and projectionist. Over 80 minutes he takes a dive into his memories of the underground cinema culture during his days in Iran, how film was kept alive against a government erasing it. Film began acting as both an escape and act of resistance, even when any frame containing any resemblance of a kiss was removed.

“Film, when projected, they were glamour and dream” says Khoshbakht in his calm voiceover. A belief agreed upon by friend and film collector Ahmad. Ahmad’s collection of celluloid reels and cinema and projection related items provide a good deal for the director to call back to with enough of a link to make this feel like not just a scattered set of memories. While it might not stop things from occasionally feeling like the film is more showing and telling rather than landing a proper effect.

This feeling particularly arrives in the final 15-20 minutes where as things near wrapping up and catching up to today the film feels as if it somewhat deviates to other areas. Slightly more about Ehsan and Ahmad, the former moving on and escaping Iran, than the titular celluloid underground culture and the risks faced by it even existing. The final line may be worth it, providing one of the most effective moments in the film, but things feel as if they slow down due to having slightly moved away.

Yet, things are still carried through by Khoshbakht’s passion for cinema, which carries much of the film and helps to move it along, It adds further backing to the fight to keep the medium alive during his time in Iran, and the effect that it can, and does, have on people. Such moments make for the most interesting and engaging points across 80-minutes. The care and passion on display feeling most engaging compared to those moments which feel more show-and-tell. Luckily, there’s enough interest to be found within Celluloid Underground’s short run-time to make it an overall worthwhile love letter to those keeping cinema alive against oppression.

While it might occasionally feel more show-and-tell, and the final stages may deviate from the initial look at underground cinema culture, there’s enough passion from Khoshbakht to create interest across Celluloid Underground’s 80-minute run-time.

Release Date – 23rd February 2024, Cert – N/A, Run-time – 1 hour 33 minutes, Director – Robert Morgan

After the passing of her mother (Stella Gonet) Ella (Aisling Franciosi) is determined to finish a stop-motion film they were working on, however with her determination comes isolation and eventual demons.

When asked why she’s spending her time making an animated film Ella (Aislin Franciosi) tells the young girl that’s just burst into her workspace (Caoilinn Springall) “because I like it, and I’m good at it. And it’s like I’m bringing something to life”. After the passing of her controlling mother (Stella Gonet) Ella becomes more and more determined to finish the stop-motion project they were working on together, wanting to make it just as perfect as her mum would have had it. However, as she isolates herself the models seem to take a new life of their own – especially as they begin to take on a much more flesh-like form thanks to their non-plasticine materials.

The demons which start to haunt Ella as she locks herself away take various different forms amongst the horrors of Stopmotion. While there might be an initial air of eeriness to certain moments they don’t exactly create a feeling of being truly on-edge. Where the real effect lies is in the moments focusing on the stop-motion animation and the potential lives that the models and characters take on. For a good chunk of the film these brief instances are the best moments – rooting in Ella’s insistence that “I don’t know how to do anything else”, haunting her just as much as the idea of the project itself.

As things progress the real world mixes more with the animation, bringing in extra detail with some truly effective gore and puppet design, courtesy of designer Dan Martin. Ella finds herself delving into an uncertain world and with her the horror amplifies making for a stronger second half, particularly in the third act where the uncertainty is ramped up as part of the visuals. Bringing out the horror more – generally improving as the film goes on – and allowing for the overall course to progress further and with more pace. Things may be slightly staggered to start with as they gradually grow amongst a weird drug sequence early in the film, but as a whole the 93-minute run-time isn’t felt. It takes some time to come together, but indeed the best stuff revolves around the titular focus of stop-motion and just how real and personal it can become.

It might take a bit of time to build things up and develop its horror, but once it does Stopmotion produces a good deal of effect through its visual design and the pacier course of its second half.

Release Date – 22nd March 2024, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 32 minutes, Directors – Cameron Cairnes, Colin Cairnes

With his talk show failing in the ratings host Jack Delroy (David Dastmalchian) attempts to put on a live edition meddling with the occult, however as the effects break out of the studio the end of the golden age of talk shows nears.

Despite insistence from his staff that things are getting out of hand Jack Delroy (David Dastmalchian) powers through his live broadcast, being branded “the biggest TV event since the moon landing”. The host made a successful transition to the screen from radio – Dastmalchian mastering the radio-to-TV voice – and is determined to overcome failing ratings to Johnny Carson’s increasingly popular Tonight Show. The way to do this is through a live broadcast, inviting mystics, hypnotists and people who have dealt with possession to discuss the occult and psychic powers. The documentary-style opening sets the scene and tells us that what we’re about to see is restored footage from the original live broadcast, with added behind the scenes details. From there the chaos builds up until a frantic and genuinely scary ending.

Where Late Night With The Devil best succeeds is in its attention to detail. The set, the conversations, including wisecracks from Delroy, and the initial awkwardness as things start to break down feel so authentic to the golden age of talk shows. With the box-like aspect ratio of the broadcast segments the feeling is heightened that little bit more to make something truly believable. Bringing about both humour and increasing tension when things start to break out of the TV studio.

Even with professional debunker Carmichael Hunt (Ian Bliss) on hand to reveal what’s really happening and how the audience at home and in the studio are being duped there’s still an eerie sense combatting against his rational explanations. Yet, aren’t the destructive occurrences – especially as Jack welcomes a young girl (Ingrid Torelli) living with a demon inside her which perhaps knows something about the host’s tragic past – all just part of the unpredictable course of live TV? That’s why it’s done, right?

As things develop and new guests appear, conflicting with each other and the ensuing developments of the broadcast, the creepiness enhances. It’s hard not to be gripped by the film with its simplistic yet highly effective course, helped by the attention to detail, and the fast flow, in how the allegedly broadcast bulk of the film works. The entire cast and crew comes together to make a more engaging and effective piece of work. Understanding and capturing the style with an accuracy which brings in both natural laughs and eventual eeriness. With the opening giving the needed context it also sets the tone for a truly enjoyable 90 minutes with a real entertainment, not to mention thrill, factor. As if grinning with the audience preparing for what’s to come.

As things start to fly (quite literally) it all feels justified and contained within what has been built up. Questions still slightly circulate as to how much of what we’re seeing is set-up simply to mess with the viewer (à la Ghostwatch) and how much is more supernatural. The lines blur masterfully within Dastmalchian’s professionality-maintaining expressions in front of the camera and frustrated exclamations behind the scenes – “I’m trying to save this f*cking show!” Everything comes together to make for an excellent quasi-mockumentary powered by a top central performance superglued to the detail of its surroundings. Amusing and chilling it flies by, and I can’t wait to experience it again.

David Dastmalchian shines in a performance as detailed as its surroundings, capturing an authentic golden age of talk shows vibe, everything comes together to create amusement and tension, brilliantly built up in equal measure for full effect in the whirling finale.

Release Date – 22nd March 2024, Cert – PG, Run-time – 1 hour 42 minutes, Director – Pablo Berger

When a robot runs out of battery the day the beach closes for the season he and his dog best friend dream of when, and how, they will reunite.

Robot Dreams feels perfect for a series of YouTube shorts. Based on Sara Varon’s graphic novel of the same name the colourful animal-filled world pops from the screen with plenty to like about the background details of this 2D animated world. The sequences which construct the narrative as a separated pair of best friends – a dog and robot – dream about when, and how, they will reunite feel sometimes like a compilation of related shorts put together into a feature. A rather sweet set of events, light and happy up until the point where the episode ends with everyone being sad and alone again – again, perfect for YouTube.

The pair, having quickly become best friends and bonding over Earth, Wind And Fire’s September (heavily used throughout the film and creating a definite earworm for days after), are split up when the robot runs out of battery on a beach the day it closes for the upcoming winter months. Whilst the dog tries his best to find a way to get onto the beach to allow his friend to walk again and come home, the robot lies dreaming about all the possible friends and encounters he might have while still in his current situation.

While bordering on repetition in the lengthy second act, back-and-forthing between the two perspectives and how things change for them over the months, it’s testament to the film and the way the stories hook you just how much you stay in place. Told without any dialogue and relying simply on the visuals (and the joyous power of September) it tells a simple set of events with an enjoyable style to connect with all ages – with the ability to cater for younger kids too with the cartoon style and some of the gags, such as a snowman turning blue after drinking a slushie.

With the bouncing to and from in the second act the 102 minute run-time feels slightly on the long side, especially with the stream of dreams vs reality sequences bordering on repetitious and losing engagement towards the end. Yet, where the film ends up is certainly interesting in the way that it links back to the opening stages of a growing friendship, the dog buying his best friend to combat loneliness. There’s plenty of light humour in seeing one teach the other the basics of the world around them and the fun that can be found.

While the fantasies amongst the separations work well the more direct bookends of the narrative have a better flow and provide more overall enjoyment. Especially in showing the warming friendships and the joy which sparks from them, whether it be through the characters dancing to a song, marvelling at things in the street or simply being in the company of their best friend.

While it might occasionally feel like a joined-up web series in the sequences of the second act Robot Dreams has enough sweetness and warmth within its family style and animation to help it along its likable tale of changing friendships.

Release Date – 15th March 2024, Cert – 12, Run-time – 1 hour 56 minutes, Director – Warwick Thornton

An Aboriginal child (Aswan Reid) changes the flow of an orphanage at risk of being closed, especially in his relationship with the head nun (Cate Blanchett) and her relationship with Christ.

Care Blanchett’s performance as Sister Eileen is a wonderfully subtle turn. You genuinely believe that she’s been a nun in the middle of nowhere for years, completely unfussed by bugs and flies crawling across her face. She’s a strong force in the calmness of the film and its various relationships. The flow of the orphanage which she runs, at risk of being closed if it’s discovered that the priest who was in charge died over a year ago, is disturbed with the arrival of a silent Aboriginal boy (Aswan Reid). An outsider from the rest of the boys in the orphanage, and struggling to communicate, he spends time under his bed conjuring small balls of light from his fingers.

Such moments of mysticism are well-contained within the quiet, simplistic narrative allowing for them to have an effect and not feel out of place amongst the focus of the central relationships. We primarily focus on Sister Eileen’s bond with the unnamed New Boy (credited as just that), especially in trying to teach him about God and the ways of Christianity – his responses varying, tying into the abilities which he seems to have. The mystery is maintained by the fact that we never really know what Reid’s character is thinking, and sometimes doing.

The relationships are given time and space to grow and develop amongst the quietness of the film. There’s a mild, natural warmth created in such scenes, helped by the gentle score capturing the peace aimed for in certain sequences. Yet, the drama at hand still manages to have a loud impact, especially when it comes to the ripples created in terms of religion and faith throughout the orphanage, particularly on the very devout Sister Eileen. When playing into the boy’s understanding of Christianity there’s a good deal to be interested by, helping to hook into the unfolding events. The subtle nature of things allows for the developments and changes to land with extra force, without feeling out of place or disturbing the flow of the film.

Again, helped by the fact that we know very little about this newly arrived child at the orphanage. For much of the run-time this works and helps to propel the questions which surround Reid’s character for the audience, where things falter is in the final stages. As we near an end point the case remains the same for the titular figure. This is perhaps when we finally need some detail so that the film is able to properly stick the landing, so that the ending doesn’t feel quite so ambiguous so as to not tip into creating feelings of not knowing what to make of it – especially as the film starts to feel slightly overlong, largely due to the events needing a bit more understanding of the New Boy.

Yet, for the most part, the held back details and subtlety of the film and its performances help to heighten the mystery and spiritual elements that it plays with. Especially in regards to the way in which religion, and people’s relationships with Christ, play into the developments and way in which we view the characters. All held within a calm and well-paced piece of work which largely allows for the naturalism and mysticism to work together by holding the latter back to suit the calm tone overall.

Cate Blanchett excels in The New Boy, pushing the natural relationships which form over the course of the film, both the religious and more mystical reaches – working well not revealing much for the most part until the latter stages when some information would help to bring some impact to the ending.

Release Date – TBC, Cert – TBC, Run-time – 1 hour 40 minutes, Director – Thomas Charles Hyland

Following a group of neurodiverse students as they rehearse and perform in their school’s musical about singer John Farnham.

“What I want this show to say is ‘you don’t give us enough credit for what we can do'” says aspiring pilot Josh. He’s one of the students in Bullengarook Secondary performing in the school’s production about a group of students travelling through time to meet different iterations of Australian singer John Farnham for their school project. Shortly before Josh says this fellow student Chelsea simply states “I did it”. I watched with heartfelt emotion, perhaps akin to a pride you can feel for a total stranger, thinking ‘yeah, you did’.

Throughout we get to know the students and their outlooks on life as they get to know their characters and rehearse ready for the big performance. From auditions to the day of the musical we form a personal bond with each of the neurodiverse teens and what they get out of being a part of this production. Director Thomas Charles Hyland observes the central focuses with love, care and respect. This is a film made with joy, emitting tonnes of it in the process. It has an infectious nature which draws you in, and heightens the emotions of the personal stories on display.

We see Halle in particular preparing to perform Farnham’s biggest hit You’re The Voice, which she dedicates to her late aunt. When we finally arrive at the moment it packs a powerful punch, perhaps the highlight of the film, it’s hard not to smile as the moment unfolds. In fact, for much of the run-time I had a huge, warm grin across my face at just what was happening on screen. Both from the achievements and honesty being displayed, the students having a place to feel comfortable – we see one student, Elyse, dealing with her anxiety, being at Bullengarook has helped with this due to a much more understanding and welcoming environment – and also the natural humour that’s in place.

This isn’t a film that punches down, there’s not a hint of malice or cruelty anywhere near it. The focus is rightfully on the students, while we see the teachers and how they lead classes and rehearsals the teenagers at the heart of the film are always kept at the centre. There’s something refreshing about their openness when it comes to their emotions and how they deal with things, and simply talk about the thoughts in their minds – “sometimes I scream into my pillow just to let all the bad out”. Before a group of her peers Chelsea delivers a speech better than most, it’s hard not to be affected by it, and Josh overflows with confidence and assertiveness.

It’s hard to state just how much joy this film brought to my autistic heart and mind. Seeing the figures we spend a rollercoaster 100 minutes with excel and open up makes for a truly affecting piece of work. Stirring the emotions while creating plenty of uplift along the way. The camera is an inquisitive observer of these events, enquiring on an equal level and letting everything naturally happen before it. Making for an even more engaging, enjoyable and entertaining piece of work. Bringing about the laughs, stirring the emotions and creating a wonderful display of inspiring achievement. My first note during the film was about the big smile across my face. My last: “I’m happy they were happy and proud of themselves.”

This Is Going To Be Big is a joyous display of achievement, packing in the natural emotion and keeping consistent focus on the central students. It’s hard not to be uplifted by the success of this inspiring group of people.

Release Date – TBC, Cert – TBC, Run-time – 1 hour 32 minutes, Director – Pablo Chea

Emi (Bosco Cárdenas) has no interest in his family’s interest in magic and special effects, however when technology causes them to disappear he must try his best to get them back.

Croma Kid feels very personally nostalgic for co-writer (alongside Israel Cárdenas) and director Pablo Chea. There’s a gentle charm to the stripped back way in which it displays creativity and the use of old school visual effects. Emi’s (Bosco Cárdenas) family used to have a TV show revelling in the magic of green screen trickery and camerawork, years later they still love to use the technology, with the chance of a more successful show on the horizon. While some sequences, particularly around the halfway point, might feel a bit too long, and slightly strange (perhaps intentionally), they capture the style of a film which celebrates the joys of the theremin – “an acquired taste like all good music”.

Emi finds himself distanced from the technology, and to some extent his family and their fascination and joy surrounding it. However, when they go missing after an incident involving the technology he must try and find a way to bring them back to the real world. As this point comes in around halfway through the film a more dramatic tone begins to come into play. The film displays a more serious face as the light creative angle is swept aside in favour of the more family-based dramas.

The effect is also felt on the overall charm of the piece as the very different tone, slightly bringing in the feel of a different film. Croma Kid’s second half doesn’t feel as engaging due to its shift. While there’s still something good playing out, remaining watchable, it feels slower and lacking the push of personal nostalgia that the first half has. The delve into what may have happened to Emi’s family, or how to get them back, could have a twist on the angles of imagination, but they don’t feel present as drama is the biggest focus within the narrative. A shame, as it’s such a strong pull within the initial charm of the film.

Croma Kid starts off as a lightly charming view of creativity with a hint of personal nostalgia from director Pablo Chea. However the less engaging dramatic tonal shift of the second half removes these initial feelings.

Release Date – TBC, Cert – TBC, Run-time – 1 hour 36 minutes, Director – Martín Rejtman

Separated from his wife (Manuela Oyarzún) and struggling to lead his yoga practice Gustavo (Esteban Bigliardi) seeks help from various health retreats and outlets, leading to a tangled series of overlapping relationships.

“I realised my life was becoming a world of students and ex-students” says yoga teacher Gustavo (Esteban Bigliardi), he’s struggling to lead at his practice in the wake of a worsening knee injury and his separation from his wife, Vanessa (Manuela Oyarzún), playing on his mind. In the wake of his world spiralling downwards relationships flow in and out of his life with no proper ending, leading him to reassess things and seek out other health retreats and outlets. An entangled set of events sees him jump from one point to another and back again, seemingly uncertain as to whether they will work for him or not.

The Practice tries to play as a two-hander between Gustavo and Vanessa, with a handful of their respective relationships and actions overlapping at some point across the narrative, however the focus is certainly on Gustavo. As things develop Vanessa’s arc certainly breaks through more, but it more often than not feels like something of an afterthought to the meandering of the protagonist’s narrative. In much the same way the film goes through its events weaving from one thing to another, not always being fully drawn in by the audience.

Such a feeling means that the humour doesn’t always come through perhaps as much as the film would hope. Laughs don’t exactly come through, instead the more comedic sequences and moments bring about a couple of exhales and amusement every now and then but not much more. Narrative soon takes up the bulk of the 96-minute run-time as characters cross over from various places and bring a busier feeling to the proceedings. Things border on feeling as if they’re close to expanding beyond Gustavo and Vanessa, as if more branches will form amongst the already crowded run-time.

Yet, by the end things feel as if they’ve largely been a set of connected moments and instances. The ending feels as if it just happens, as if the film just finishes and that’s it. It’s in part down to the slight bits and pieces nature of the developments that we see Gustavo experience as he tries to climb back up to his more peaceful state of mind. The world keeps kicking him, or rather letting him down, with occasional moments of amusement to be found along the way. However, while watchable the film never feels completely involving as it moves along its way fine enough but not in the most memorable of fashions.

The Practice meanders through its events and interweaving interactions with occasional moments of amusement but never quite enough to fully hook into within the busy-feeling run-time.

Release Date – 28th June 2024, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 30 minutes, Director – Erica Tremblay

Since her sister disappeared Jax (Lily Gladstone) has been looking after her niece Roki (Isabel Deroy-Olson), who has her heart set on attending the upcoming powwow with her mother, however other family members are seeking custody.

There’s a clear heart and love between aunt and niece Jax (Lily Gladstone) and Roki (Isabel Deroy-Olson). Jax has been looking after her niece ever since her sister went missing. Yet, there are those who say that Roki should be in a better home with more responsible, reliable members of her family – these are particularly Jax’s distant father (Shea Whigham) and his wife (Audrey Wasilewski). The battle for custody is heated, with Jax passionately fighting against it, especially in the wake of her niece wanting to attend an upcoming powwow, where she has previously won mother-daughter dances.

Gladstone and Deroy-Olson put in great performances, forming a quietly compelling relationship and set of events. As the pair leave the reservation to attend the powwow any sign that their loose plan may fall apart leads to a great deal of tension. One situation emphasised by the presence of an ICE agent conducting an apparent random questioning outside a shop. The closer they get, and the more Jax tries to get answers as to what happened to her sister – with help from her police detective brother JJ (Ryan Begay) – the more the film brings you in.

As the people around her become increasingly frustrated, with their feuds and personal battles growing more and more heated, Roki finds herself more intent on reaching the powwow. “It’s a way for everyone to be together” she says about the celebration and its dances and music, you really feel not just how much her heart is set on it, but what it means to her on a number of personal levels. Her story in particular, and the connection she has with Gladstone’s character, creates the emotional punches, with especially arrive in the later stages of the film. At just 90 minutes the narrative feels tight and well-built around the characters, further propelling the emotional beats and tense sequences.

One of the most quietly affecting scenes involves Whigham and Wasilewski talking to Deroy-Olson about Roki wanting to go to the powwow. Is that possible if she’s living with them? They might be busy, or simply not prepared to let her go, especially if she’s only just settling in. The conversations are disheartening for her, something felt by the viewer too. They also highlight Jax’s love for her niece and how much she’ll fight for her, both conflicting and complimenting her want to find out what has happened to her sister. The narrative uses this to move along and create something more emotionally engaging, especially as things develop and move out into the wider world. All grounded and made more engaging by the two well-connected performances at the centre of it.

Fancy Dance develops itself around its two great central performances from Gladstone and Deroy-Olson, bringing in tension and emotion as the personal beats create an increasingly compelling story.

Release Date – TBC, Cert – TBC, Run-time – 1 hour 35 minutes, Director – Sav Rodgers

Sav Rodgers explores the impact of Kevin Smith’s Chasing Amy on himself and the wider LGBTQ+ community, especially as depictions and representation in cinema changes over the years.

Sav Rodgers beams with disbelieving delight as he walks into Kevin Smith’s home. Seeing props and items from the writer-director’s films in a shop dedicated to Smith’s comics and films, not to mention visiting the Quick Stop, brings plenty of delight but meeting the director whose work changed his life is on another level. Rodgers makes clear that Chasing Amy is a big film in his life, one watched on repeat and eye-opening with its LGBTQ+ themes and representations. However, it’s not a film without its criticisms, particularly regarding its narrative which some have described as one based around a woman’s heterosexual conversion by a straight man.

Chasing Chasing Amy takes this as its starting point. Bringing in critics and people involved with the film to give their views on the film, its depictions and how attitudes may, or may not, have changed over time for the film. These link into Rodgers own personal feelings for the film as he details how it helped him to learn about himself and his own sexuality, the film acts as a personal journey for himself as much as it does something looking at the legacy of Chasing Amy.

Rodgers is a very likable figure, we engage with him and his journey, acting as a big consistent throughout the film. As various tangents crop up to look at other aspects of Smith’s 1997 feature, with the documentary seemingly acknowledging that it can’t simply be an essay about the LGBTQ+ angles, there are certainly some which work better than others; largely the ones which don’t feel as drawn-out. While only 95-minutes there’s something of a busy nature to the documentary with how much it gets in, particularly once past the second half when a new form seems to be taken in regards to the personal development of the director – a key interview with Chasing Amy lead Joey Lauren Adams about her relationship with the film, with her answers perhaps not quite lining up with what was hoped for, being a key turning point.

Chasing Amy is described part way through as “a roadmap of how not to f*ck up a relationship”. We dive into Smith’s own personal feelings towards the film, including when writing and filming it, the course that it took when first released. When leaning into Rodgers’ views, and the glimpses we see of his relationship with his wife, such moments have that extra layer of interest. They keep things going, again largely thanks to the likable nature of the central filmmaker and how he changes overtime through new understandings and interviews.

These particularly lift up the various tangents which crop up in the later stages of the film, moving away from the initial focus and themes of the documentary. And while eventually these work and lead onto something, it takes some time for things to come together, especially with how much the film wants to delve into in such a short space of time. Not everything feels as if it builds upon the opening and closing points, but overall there’s enough present to make for a decent documentary with the push of an engaging filmmaker at the centre.

While starting and ending in some interesting places, largely thanks to the personal angle of Sav Rodgers who makes for an engaging secondary focus, Chasing Chasing Amy is held back by a number of tangents to other points and topics in its short run-time.