Cert – 12, Run-time – 2 hours 47 minutes, Director – Denis Villeneuve

While it seems that his journey is fulfilling an ancient Fremen prophecy, Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet) plans to take down the Harkonnen family, who destroyed his own family, whilst having visions of a fatal future.

We’re not even at the 2024 ceremony yet, but it already seems as if Dune: Part Two is set to make the same kind of technical sweep at the Oscars next year as the first film did in 2022. The scale is just as grand, if not grander, as the rest of the universe travels to the desert planet of Arrakis when it seems that the long-prophesised Muad’dib has arrived – maybe in the form of the believed-dead Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet). Huge, mechanical ships and crafts scatter the surface of the planet with the threat of the Harkonnens displayed in their design. The search for the Fremen is on, they must be caught before the Harkonnens lose control of the spice of Arrakis, which in turn gives them control over the universe.

The attacks and battles look just as explosive on the big screen as before – and not just because of how many there are. The visual effects mixed with the costume and production design are seamless as the detail of the world is further fleshed out and made to feel lived-in – even when largely based around towering sand dunes. We spend a good time in this world seeing Paul fulfil each stage of the long-held Fremen prophecy of the Muad’dib – the figure who will lead them to a green paradise. While some no longer believe this prophecy there are those from the scorched, ‘uninhabited’ southern hemisphere who continue to hold it close.

When coming into play the dramatic scenes of conflict, delving into the state of religion on the planet and how Paul – a performance from Chalamet which becomes increasingly assured and passionate as his character develops – falls into place amongst it as his own journey takes course. Is he getting ahead of himself? How can he learn the ways of the Fremen while keeping them and his surviving family safe, all while trying to take down the Harkonnens – still a dark and threatening group, although we see generally little of them, now with added Austin Butler, doing some very noticeable acting as psychotic Feyd-Rautha. The drama is well handled and creates a number of interesting points outside of the big action sequences.

Yet, if the first film was build-up and world building, successful at both and in being its own product, for this yet again faithful adaptation of the second half of Frank Herbert’s classic sci-fi novel then this follow-up very much feels like further build-up to the third act. At almost three hours, although just 11 minutes longer than Part One, the run-time is truly felt here, especially when jumping from visually-packed action sequences to more restrained moments of narratively focused conversation. Things remain watchable, and the visual detail helps to create some engagement, but it doesn’t stop the slow-burn narrative from feeling just a little too slow. Taking its time to explore new elements of the world, and the Fremen as Paul learns about their ways and his own family – largely through mother Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson) who herself goes through a number of changes over the course of the film.

There’s a lot going on throughout, even without the inclusion of bagpipes in Hans Zimmer’s still-effective score, but much of it feels like build-up and further exploration of a world we’ve already explored a good deal of. On the whole it works and helps to hold interest, whilst creating a stylistic intensity within the action sequences, where a number of fights are well tracked. Denis Villeneuve has once again made an arthouse-style blockbuster on a giant studio budget, and you can’t help but admire that fact, and how well he handles it.

Certainly engagement is created when these notes come through in the progression of Paul’s character, growing the seriousness and severity of his situation as he becomes more of a leader; a truly shouty scene truly selling Chalamet’s performance, but as a whole it can’t entirely lift a film up that feels as if a good deal of its focus is on the end goal instead of the full course that its central characters are taking.

Another visually immense trip to Arrakis that also feels like further build-up and world building trying to reach the third act. While holding worthwhile action and character details you just wish that sometimes the world development connected more to the interesting patches of narrative and character development.

Release Date – 23rd February 2024, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 40 minutes, Director – Thea Sharrock

When devout conservative Edith Swan (Olivia Colman) begins receiving a series of profane letters the finger is pointed to her foul-mouthed neighbour Rose Gooding (Jessie Buckley), however Rose insists innocence.

The profanity in Wicked Little Letters never quite enters in Deadpool-esque creativity. For the most part the case is intentionally so, “no one swears like that” Jessie Buckley points out when trying to prove that the offensive letters which have been spreading across the small coastal town of Littlehampton can’t have been written by her. The finger has been firmly pointed her way since the first page of profane correspondence fell through the door of her next door neighbour Edith Swan (Olivia Colman). “In the end I think it’s just jealousy” she explains to the investigating police officer (Hugh Skinner) interviewing her after the 19th letter.

The relationship between the central pairing has long been turbulent. Despite highly devout Edith seeing herself as something of a missionary, looking to help her new neighbour as soon as she moves in at the dawn of the 1920s, Rose’s language and behaviour remains a great barrier to her joining the Christian Women’s Whist club. It’s similarities in the coarse language which lead many to believe that Rose is the one sending the offensive letters, however she continues to insist she’s innocent; why would she send a letter when 1. she has her young daughter, Nancy (Alisha Weir), to care for and think about, and 2. she could just say it?

Colman and Buckley are, as you’d expect, highly enjoyable in their roles. Clearly having a good time with the swearier lines and simply being on screen with each other. Yet, while very much marketed as a comedy there’s a lot more drama to Wicked Little Letters than expected. Edith is controlled and restricted by her outraged father (Timothy Spall) while Rose is perhaps hiding details about her life before arriving in Littlehampton, and indeed trying her best to look after Nancy.

On the other side of the investigation is police officer Gladys (Anjana Vasan – who truly shines when her character comes into her own in the third act), officially labelled as ‘Woman Police Officer Moss’ her job is checking in on the wellbeing of female victims of crime. For much of the time we focus on such points the film is very much upfront with what it is presenting with not much else below the surface. There’s a convention to such strands which differs from the potential fun there is to be had with the more comedic beats.

Comedic beats which offer a good deal of humour, and not just within the language that’s portrayed – although there are a good deal of occasions where the strong language provides an amusing flourish every now and then. While perhaps not anything raucous, although pushed by the enjoyment the cast are having delivering f-bomb laden lines of dialogue, the laughs generally have an effect, and there’s a good deal to chuckle at throughout, even if it does find itself broken up by some longer moments of drama with less resolve than is perhaps wanted, something which seems like it’s going to be the case a few minutes before the actual ending begins to arrive. Yet, for what it does provide there’s an enjoyable nature to Wicked Little Letters, largely pushed by a cast who are getting a kick out of the material they’re given.

The emphasis of Wicked Little Letters is on the titular sweary communication, meaning that the drama often feels somewhat standard, and eventually not entirely resolved. Yet, an enjoyable cast brings through a good few chuckles here and there throughout the untroubling run-time.

Cert – 12, Run-time – 1 hour 56 minutes, Director – SJ Clarkson

When she starts to experience visions of the future, ambulance driver Cassie (Dakota Johnson) finds herself protecting three teenagers (Celeste O’Connor, Isabela Merced, Sydney Sweeney) from a man with spider-like abilities (Tahar Rahim) who is trying to kill them.

One of my favourite Letterboxd reviews is from user Patrick Willems describing Sony’s first entry into their Spider-Man Universe (SSU; formerly called the Sony Pictures Universe of Marvel Characters – SPUMC), Venom. The review simply says “The #3 superhero movie of 2003.” If that’s the case, then Madame Web is towards the weaker end of such films. A common criticism of Sony’s recent batch of live-action Marvel features has been that they’ve felt about 20 years too late, and even if released at that time they still wouldn’t have flown high. Actually, set in 2003, blaring constant reminders which feel less like nostalgia but the clanging sound of ‘REMEMBER THIS!?’ showing the film thinking the audience might forget, this particular entry feels most at home in that year.

It also feels like a film trying to be legally different to Spider-Man. Despite the fact that Sony owns the rights to the character the handful of references to him, and the universe he’s a part of, are constantly interrupted or quickly moved on from as if there’s a fear there might be repercussions for doing so. The events and characters all feel like they’ve been plucked from a universe of Halloween costumes belonging to the ‘Spider Powered Hero’ universe.

Dakota Johnson’s Cassie Webb finds herself turning 30 and experiencing concerning visions of the future. Sometimes these are just a few seconds away others minutes before the event, it all depends on what’s convenient for the plot. When trying to get away from everything she sees a vision of three teenagers being attacked on a train. After rushing the trio back onto the platform the group are soon hunted by Tahar Rahim’s Ezekiel Sims – who has had visions of three masked heroes one day murdering him for many nights. Donning his own spider suit to match his wall-climbing abilities his aim is to kill the girls before they get to him in the future – his powers, initial want for the spider that presumably gave them to him and basically everything else about him is deemed completely irrelevant.

We get very brief glimpses of Mattie (Celeste O’Connor), Anya (Isabela Merced) and Julia (Sydney Sweeney) in their crime-fighting futures, but the most part they’re present for Cassie to save at the last minute. The quartet bring about a set of ranging performances from those which are seemingly in a comedy, those which you can tell the scenes which were filmed after they realised this likely wasn’t going to be the best film and those which are simply rubbish.

When the group first properly meet the jumps in time are chaotic and all over the place. A constant back and forth which pretty much make a confusing sequence of their own. Later on the visions are longer and more restricted to one thing, however a moment of frantically edited action leads to a decision which is frequently an Arthurian run away. In the end everything feels very generic and lacking in style. As if Cassandra Webb is a character with little story and detail to provide to a feature film. There feels to be little confidence in her from a screenwriting perspective, and indeed the universe as a whole, one which wants to be more connected to what’s around it but at the same time doesn’t want to properly reference it so as to be its own product. It simply leaves Madame Web struggling on its own underdeveloped island, one that hasn’t changed much since 2003.

Set in 2003 Madame Web feels like it belongs among the weaker films of that very year. Lacking in detail, and confidence, it moves along with confusing action sequences and underdeveloped ideas giving the impression that even the film doesn’t know what to do with the central characters it’s been given.

Cert – 12, Run-time – 1 hour 44 minutes, Director – Reinaldo Marcus Green

As his fame rises across the globe, Bob Marley (Kingsley Ben-Adir) attempts to arrange a concert to unite Jamaica when his country is on the brink of civil war.

While not a direct biopic, largely focusing on Bob Marley (Kingsley Ben-Adir) attempting to unite his home country for Jamaica with his music, One Love still feels itch-inducingly conventional. Flashbacks to his origins, particularly in his relationship to his wife and backing singer, Rita (Lashana Lynch), may have some interest, but those leaning more into his start in music add little to the film overall. Even delves into the creative process as songs are gradually formed on the spot with fellow members of The Wailers lack a properly euphoric spark.

Jamaica is on the brink of civil war, with tensions and violence in the streets rising. Marley is a victim of this in the film’s opening stages when gunmen break into his home attempting to assassinate the singer. Sending his family to America while he eventually escapes to London Marley’s fame begins to rise rapidly, alongside the influence of reggae. With the release of his album Exodus and an upcoming world tour he attempts to spread the message of peace and one love to as many people as possible, with his eyes continuously set on his home – and an African leg of the tour, which record label representatives simply brand as uncommercial.

While a number of scenes have a very by-the-books presentation there’s still enough here to help things move by with ease. Part of it might be the familiarity, although at this stage with musical biopics it’s very much a factor that works against the film, however the best factor are the performances of Ben-Adir and Lynch. Both of whom put in engaging and effective performances which help to lift the film around them. Ben-Adir in particular demonstrates Marley’s points and messages with a likable and relaxed charisma, allowing the audience to buy into his mission more than the One Love concert sequence itself – largely because it doesn’t really exist.

Where the film best succeeds is not in the music itself but in Marley’s various relationships. The people who crop up throughout his life, inspire him and spur him on. While one or two moments might lead to slight bumps of convention – one particular outburst in the later stages of the film feels slightly out of character, although intentionally so it doesn’t entirely come across best – the group around the singer, not just those in his band, provide some interesting and engaging moments. As a whole there’s enough details and beats to engage throughout the film to stop it from feeling overly bland or distancing. There may be a lot of familiarity in the overall style, but thankfully a good leading performance helps to move things along and stop the proceedings from feeling overly bland, whilst also truly conveying the beliefs and motivation at hand.

While it might suffer heavily from feeling like another conventional biopic Bob Marley: One Love believes in its well-performed focus’ mission and beliefs, allowing the viewer to buy into them and for things to not dive into destructive blandness.

Release Date – 14th February 2024, Cert – 12, Run-time – 2 hours 15 minutes, Director – Anh Hung Tran

Cook Eugenie (Juliette Binoche) has been working for gourmet Dodin (Benoit Magimel) for over 20 years, what will it take for the pair to make an official romantic relationship?

Not since Harley Quinn’s egg sandwich in Birds Of Prey has there been such tempting displays of food porn lavishly poured onto the big screen. The opening twenty minutes of The Taste Of Things are largely constructed of little more than various dishes being put together. Little is said between the four bodies in the kitchen as they focus on the recipes at hand for a range of dishes being prepared for later in the day. In fact, the occasional sound of cooking and utensils is about all we hear for ten minutes before dishes begin to be sampled while the cooks are still busy preparing later courses. While engaging, and a sensory treat, the true effect of this extended sequence is saved for later in the film when another key meal takes place.

Roles are reversed between cook Eugenie (Juliette Binoche) and gourmet Dodin (Benoit Magimel) with an overall different tone to the proceedings. The pair have been working together for over 20 years, and it’s made clear that there’s more within their relationship, however there’s not an official romance – despite Benoit having proposed over the years, something brought up in more casual requests as they sit together one evening after a long day of work (and eating). Professionally the pair are admired with culinary skills which would have Studio Ghibli seething with jealousy. Admired by internationally renowned chefs and princes the dish of the day is always fine food.

So much attention to detail floods the eyes and ears throughout. Eugenie says after the many courses of the opening meal that while she wasn’t with the diners she had an even greater experience having spent so much time with the ingredients, and the final creations. She was with every smell, taste and sound as they changed and developed over time, and indeed so were we. These ideas manage to subtly play into the relationship between Eugenie and Dodin as the film plays out. While uncomplex in its overall narrative the priority is how things come across and the ways in which themes and details can be conveyed. And they’re put across rather effectively, with a gentle and engaging manner.

The culinary arts act as a way of communication, particularly during the second extended meal which is packed with subtle emotion and a good deal of heart. Complimented by the sound design (particularly foley artistry by Olivier Thys) and cinematography (by Jonathan Ricquebourg) which perfectly capture the feelings of each individual scene or sequence, fleshing them out and providing more subtlety to the ways in which they convey themes and tone.

Particularly in the final 15-20 minutes where things begin to feel somewhat overlong the way in which cooking is leaned into in these particular moments provides interest, and a fitting round off to the relationship which has been observed in the, frequently described as, ‘autumn years’ of the pair’s lives. As we explore this, and the clear feelings between the pair – alongside the things and reasonings which aren’t always said or expressed between them – the slow pacing fits the film. The pacing is made clear in the opening stages as the quiet cooking process is allowed to speak volumes – before the dishes flood the screen to be met with wonder, and envy, from the viewers.

It’s these treats which represent the best of the film and get the most of it across. Where the themes and emotions are still contained, but in subtle ways which are injected into the mood of the process. The feelings which wash across the character’s faces as they prepare and eat personal meals. Yet, none of these sequences ever feel flashy or overindulgent, or as if they’re showing off. That’s where the real inviting key comes through, yes the characters know the food is great, it’s mentioned enough by supporting characters and fellow gourmets, but these mentions never feel as if they’re trying to force anything. As a whole the film feels unforced and again is allowed to gently tell its story, if in ever so slightly lengthy fashion. This is a film where it becomes its own language, understood from the first few minutes and having a good deal of effect as it takes form and further meaning over time.

The Taste Of Things allows the culinary arts to become its own language, excellently captured in sound and vision the dishes are immensely inviting and their preparation speaks loudly as they’re filled with emotion and personal meaning from the characters.

Release Date – 9th February 2024, Cert – 15, Run-time – 2 hours 12 minutes, Director – Sean Durkin

As wrestling coverage changes in the early 80s, the Von Erich family struggle with the increasing pressure put upon them to be the best.

A casual game of football doesn’t exist in the Von Erich family. However much the four brothers would like that to be the case their father (Holt McCallany) is constantly on the sideline, or right next to them, shouting at them to be the best, the strongest, in the family, the state, the country, the world. What should be a fun throw-around is underpinned by the drama of not being good enough. It’s something the siblings struggle with throughout their lives, their father reminding them of who his favourite is as he once again lists his ranking of his sons at the breakfast table. As the 80s arrive and wrestling coverage changes on TV the brothers find themselves under even more stress as they hurtle towards fame and heavyweight titles.

Our central perspective is Zac Efron’s Kevin – this is the kind of role Efron seems to have been searching for for a number of years now, and he knocks it out of the park – throughout this inspired-by-a-true-story tale. The biggest kick he gets out of wrestling, and life, is getting to spend time with his family – he tells girlfriend Pam (Lily James) on their first date that he’d love a huge house where everyone can live together, kids and grandkids. However, as each brother gets closer to their father’s goals the effects of the immense pressure weighing down on them are inevitably felt. They aren’t fighting with their opponent, or each other, but with themselves; with warring views on survival.

The second half brings many tough-to-watch sequences as events and decisions create a sense of fear as to where they might lead. Not just the physical toll which is made more than clear in the ring, but on the mental states of the characters too. We see, despite their exteriors, sometimes because of it – Jeremy Allen White’s Kerry starts to use steroids when it feels like he’s the only chance the family has at being the best – a weakening group, particularly in Harris Dickinson’s David. When we’re first introduced to Kevin his map of pulsing veins and muscles taking up the screen as he jumps out of bed to leap into morning exercise looks almost painful.

Even youngest sibling Mike (Stanley Simons), somewhat left behind in much of the build-up and first half of the film, gets his moment with one of the most affecting scenes; landing an emotional punch from a character with whom we don’t have a proper connection with for some time. It comes back to the firm Iron Claw pressing down on the Von Erich’s – a move created by their father which pins opponents down to the ground as they scream in pain until losing the match. While the film as a whole might feel slightly overlong it’s the heavier moments of drama showing just this in effect that keep you engaged. Especially in the knock-back emotional moments, contrasted well with a key moment of gentle peace in the later stages.

Throughout the consistent dramatic tension both in and out of the ring holds engagement and connection. It also means that the two worlds which should feel separate come across as very much the same, something which is acknowledged by the film and the eventual turns in the relationships between the Von Erich brothers, and more importantly their father. Through this themes of communication and expression, or rather the lake of it instead sticking to performances similar to wrestling personas, come through.

The family as a whole feel shut off from each other, and their feelings. When asking his mother (Maura Tierney) to speak to her husband about the pressure that is being put onto their children Kevin is simply told that that’s what his brothers are for, little change is made. When it comes to moments of tragedy her emotions remain restrained, leading to later feelings of increased pain later in the film, wonderfully shown in a scene between Tierney and James.

With the strong performances on display, and the ways in which they work together, The Iron Claw is the kind of film which ensemble cast awards should be for. The heavier drama and tragedy is well handed with plenty of effect, and a sense of fear worked well into such moments too. Everything comes together to create a compelling, if slightly lengthy, drama with a good deal working underneath the surface to increase the sense of pressure and need to be the best that is being put upon the central family.

A strong ensemble brings about plenty of knock-back effect to The Iron Claw, allowing for the pressure and tragedy to be felt without being overbearing. While it might feel slightly overlong its the way it handles its unfolding tale of performance and contradicting expressions which keeps you engaged throughout.

Cert – U, Run-time – 1 hour 23 minutes, Directors – Benjamin Renner, Guylo Homsy

A family of ducks leave the safety of their pond for the first time in order to migrate to Jamaica for the winter, bumping into crazed herons and chefs along the way.

Migration is unlikely to change anyone’s mind about Illumination, or really trouble the mind long after it’s finished. In recent years many have associated the studio with overly familiar narratives wading through convention with more push for Minions over originality (Minions fans may well be amused by slapstick short film Mooned which precedes the feature – I personally still find a mild chuckle every now and then from the characters). Migration’s narrative is no different in terms of being a recognisable set of events as we follow the Mallard family, a group of ducks who have never left the safety of their pond due to father Mack’s (Kumail Nanjiani) fears of the outside world and the predators which lie in it.

However, when a group of birds travelling south for the winter make a rest stop at the pond Mack quickly becomes convinced to get away and take his family to Jamaica. Yet, there’s much more than just crazed herons (Carol Kane) in the wider world, there are merciless New York chefs who won’t hesitate to cook and serve the family if he catches them. As Mack and his family; wife Pam (Elizabeth Banks), children Dax (Caspar Jannings) and Gwen (Tresi Gazal) and elderly Uncle Dan (Danny DeVito – managing to get a couple of chuckles with the most cartoonish character in the film), make their way to the Caribbean the landscapes are undeniably well animated. In terms of animation quality Migration is perhaps the studio’s best looking film to date, with a slightly lower budget to most of their recent fare (at $72 million).

While you can see the stages and separate ideas in the narrative making for a structure of bits and pieces that you can see and feel going from one to the other, as the film goes on and the characters get into the wider world there’s more to like. Not anything new or challenging there’s at least a more amusing nature to the unfolding events, helped by a short 83-minute run-time, with the odd chuckle along the way.

The aforementioned villainous chef may create a bump or two – more in terms of feeling there simply for the sake of having an antagonist over anything else – but then again this might be down to not being overly present for much of the run-time. Treated as a silent character with the occasional grunt and audible sneer the film seems to be aiming for a Shaun The Sheep style with the character, but never quite lands this feeling due to not having the same kind of charm or humour in making the character the butt of the jokes, or the ways in which the protagonists outwit them.

Overall there’s a generally direct nature to Migration. It knows that it needs to get its characters from A to B (pond to Jamaica) and gets them there via the occasional challenge and new stage in the journey. Again, we’ve seen the outline (and indeed some elements of the presentation) of this narrative before, and there’s a good deal of familiarity on display, particularly in the first half. Yet, as things move along there’s enough to like about the air that the film creates for things to progress pleasantly enough for the time that they’re on. Thanks to a couple of lightly amusing gags, and to an extent a feeling that the film knows that it’s not trying to reinvent the wheel, there’s eventually enough here, largely once in the wider world, to make for a likable, if forgettable piece of work. It could easily feel much lazier.

Not exactly bringing anything new to the table, Migration won’t change anyone’s mind about Illumination. However, this latest, visually great, offering from the studio is amusing enough for the brief time it lasts with little trouble along the way, even if you can see and feel the individual stages of the narrative.

Cert – 12, Run-time – 2 hours 19 minutes, Director – Matthew Vaughn

Author Elly Conway (Bryce Dallas Howard) finds herself thrown into a world of rival spies not unlike her novels, when it turns out her hit series, Argylle, has reflected the real world a little too much.

There are three versions of Agent Argylle. There’s the one in author Elly Conway’s (Bryce Dallas Howard) hit spy novel series, a suave and focused figure knowing the best course of action in any moment; then there’s the version which appears in her head (both played by Henry Cavill), an arrogant persona smugly gliding through action self-acknowledging how great a spy he is with just one look. Finally, there’s the real Agent Argylle, the unseen face whose life has been almost exactly documented in Conway’s books. At least the former two of these personalities should perhaps feel much more in sync than they actually do, instead feeling as inconsistent as their author, and pretty much anyone around her.

In early action sequences we cut back and forth from Elly’s views of real spy Aidan Wilde (Sam Rockwell) and her mind’s view of Argylle. One is an intentionally chaotic and messy set of events to contrast with the other near-bulletproof depiction as Cavill’s spy stares into the camera with a thick air of vanity. Thankfully, this version of the character appears less frequently as the film goes on and Elly and Aidan’s globetrotting venture takes more form. The writer finds herself chased by opposing groups of spies as it’s revealed that her smash-hit series has almost perfectly mirrored events in the real world, and dangerous people (led by Bryan Cranston’s Director Ritter) need to know the next chapter of the as-yet-unwritten fifth book pans out.

Whilst the world of the Argylle books seems to be trying to pastiche Bond the events unfolding in the real world seem to be trying to dismantle this in order to set up a counter without ever quite landing the comedic effect. Instead, action sequences full of shonky CGI (two examples during a chase in the first five minutes had me audibly exclaiming ‘yikes’) play out to the questioning response of whether they’re meant to be funny, largely due to the choice in songs which plays over a number of them, and sometimes what’s incorporated into them – smoke cannisters burst into an array of colours as one fight turns into something of a callback dance scene.

This style dominates the drawn out third act as it tries to keep a spark alive, and push a spark between Rockwell and Dallas Howard who the film seems to want to position as Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner, amongst the constant stalls and additions to developments. There’s a great cast here (also including John Cena, Samuel L. Jackson, Ariana DeBose and Catherine O’Hara, just to name a few), yet none ever seem to bring a proper sense of life to their inconsistent characters. Wavering throughout a lengthy 2-hour-and-19-minute run-time; particularly Elly with whichever reaction seems convenient at the time – her for-comedic-effect panic, heightening Aidan’s in-the-moment espionage skills, clashes with sudden bursts of putting her head down and moving forward as if nothing just happened.

As soon as Conway sends off what’s perhaps the first draft of her literally-just-finished fifth book the praise, admittedly from her mother (O’Hara) is that it’s brilliant as usual. Unfortunately, unlike the Argylle books, the film can’t be given the same praise, even after a number of drafts. The jumble of ideas while generally flowing well enough until the latter stages never feel as if they have the energy or humour to properly engage, one or two more casual moments of amusement aside.

With refining, including less time spent trying to semi jab at conventions while seemingly unaware that it features plenty of them narratively, there could be a more fun film here. However, the smugness sometimes shown in the Argylle of Elly’s mind comes through in the tone of the film, holding it further back amongst the uncertainty of what it wants to be and what it’s poking at. Whether itself or spy capers the landing is an uninteresting series of bumpy falters.

Unsure of what it actually wants to pastiche Argylle is a film full of inconsistencies. The narrative is overlong and lacking in humour, particularly in a crammed third act, and overall everything feels like it could be delivered straight to camera with an air of smugness.

Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 35 minutes, Director – Alberto Corredor

Iris (Freya Allan) inherits a pub from her late, distant father (Pete Mullan), however in the basement lies a creature with the power to let people speak to their deceased loved ones, but not without forming a connection with the bereaved.

In 1970s Britain, and some of the years since, Bagpuss was a warm figure of many childhoods. The saggy, old cloth cat who awoke whenever owner Emily told him to see what new thing she had brought to her cozy shop. The pink and white cat would wake up, alongside a collection of other toys and ornaments, to inspect whichever lost item Emily had found and brought back with her and over the course of 15 minutes would discuss and repair it. A quaint and innocent set of events. Baghead, on the other hand, is unlikely to be a distant relative as instead this particular creature will gradually break down the people providing it with items, working its way into their heads beyond the basement of an abandoned pub.

The items belong to deceased relatives which people willing to pay a hefty sum provide ‘Baghead’ – never actually called that in the film, in fact the word is never once said – with in the hope of speaking to their loved ones just one more time. However, there are those who keep coming back, this is the case for Jeremy Irvine’s Neil as he insists new owner of The Queen’s Head Iris (Freya Allan) let him see the figure in the basement. Soon, Iris, who has inherited the pub from her late, distant father (Peter Mullan), finds herself keeping the building, just for a short amount of time, instead of selling it off immediately.

Alongside best friend Katie (Ruby Barker) the pair begin to witness the extent of Baghead’s powers, and the attachment she forms with those using her for communication with the dead. The rules put in place in a video left by Mullan’s character begin to be bent and ignored as greed and addiction consume. They may be traditional points for a horror flick, and certainly there’s nothing wrong with this, however as the film moves along it almost seems to lose faith in itself.

Based on a short of the same name, there’s plenty of atmosphere to help move things along for the first half hour, yet the remaining hour, while still featuring similar tones, never quite seems to have the same strength. Glimmers of the past feelings arise every now and then, but as a whole things almost get bogged down in a cycle of attacks and risk as Baghead proves that her curse is perhaps stronger than the will of the lacklustre living. Yet, when such moments arise the film can’t help but stumble as it explains much of its events as it’s happening, almost providing its own commentary – whilst researching the history of the pub and its previous owners Katie can’t help but read everything we’re seeing on screen out loud just to push the point across.

Occasional jump scares become less effective as they become more obvious and overall as the run-time progresses the momentum decreases. The initially creepy air that surrounded the proceedings is no longer present and as a whole the film feels largely ineffective and rather bland. The character of Baghead feels less of a character and more of a plot device until backstory is provided in the latter stages of the narrative before an ending which, while interesting, would likely have greater impact if you had more of a connection with the characters and the build-up had more of a push, and unsettling nature.

While initially conjuring some interesting atmosphere Baghead seems to lose faith in itself as its titular antagonist feels more of a plot device than a character to push forward the increasingly ineffective scares in the cyclical narrative.

Release Date – 26th January 2024, Cert – 12, Run-time – 2 hours 21 minutes, Director – Blitz Bazawule

Separated from her sister at a young age, Celie’s (Fantasia Barrino) life is one of loneliness and abuse from her husband (Colman Domingo), over the years she finds strength in the outgoing and confident women around her.

The Color Purple’s core narrative may not feel as if it lends itself throughout to the big, upbeat Broadway musical treatment. Yet, on the stage it’s proved a successful, highly acclaimed transfer from Alice Walker’s novel. Now, receiving the big screen treatment the benefits of the stage perhaps come through as the tonal shifts from the drama and upset of protagonist Celie’s (Fantasia Barrino) life are contrasted with more upbeat musical numbers, particularly in the film’s first hour.

The various song and dance numbers, which themselves for a good while seem rather infrequent, oddly feel as if they could be played out on a stage. There feels a shift in Blitz Bazawule’s direction to capture the big dance sequences, as a crowd of bodies move in unison with effective choreography which would likely work greater wonders on the stage, feeling sometimes like moves unchanged from a live production over a bigger film. Such moments can sometimes feel like a jolt just after a highly dramatic scene of Celie being abused by her husband, going by the name of Mister (Colman Domingo). The emotion and drama doesn’t always feel as if it has time to settle in and fully expand.

Where the feelings of strength come through is in the performances, a number of cast members having previously performed in iterations of the stage production. There’s a strong supporting cast surrounding Barrino, who particularly gets time to shine in the second half. While Celie is separated from her sister at a young age (the younger Celie played by Phylicia Pearl Mpasi, while Halle Bailey plays sister Nettie) she finds support and sisterhood in the strong women around her. Bold and defiant Sofia (Danielle Brooks, a highlight in need of more screen-time) and singer Shug Avery (Taraji P. Henson, putting her all into belting out her tunes), herself having known Mister in the past, lead those around Celie encouraging her to find her voice and fight back, to say “hell no!”

During moments of fighting back, and Celie managing to find her voice and gain more freedom the film is better contrasting with the more dramatic and emotional sides. It allows for a third act which brings about the emotions, even if after a bit of build-up – the film as a whole feels a little bit on the long side – especially in the very final stages where the style of the songs, largely the gospel-leaning tracks, land with a good impact from the way in which the cast join to sing them.

This, and the likes of Shug and Sofia, are the better contrasts to the harsh mistreatment Celie faces from Domingo’s well-performed character amongst the other tragedies in her life. While the songs may fit in more as we get more into the narrative they might still feel a part of the same film but the style frequently demonstrates a different feeling to the surroundings which are otherwise engaging. Even if sometimes needing a bit more time so tonal shifts don’t always feel so sharp and the drama can be more properly felt and given an impact.

The musical numbers may largely feel stage-like in this take on The Color Purple, however the strong performances help bring out the brief moments of bigger drama, and some worthwhile strands in the build-up to the effective conclusion.