Release Date – 26th January 2024, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 45 minutes, Director – Andrew Haigh

Struggling to write a script and potentially entering into a relationship with a neighbour (Paul Mescal), Adam (Andrew Scott) finds himself exploring what life would be like if his parents (Claire Foy, Jamie Bell) hadn’t passed away thirty years before.

The new block of flats that screenwriter Adam (Andrew Scott) lives in is almost entirely empty. The modern design somehow emphasises his isolation when he occasionally leaves his flat to wander the corridors or visit his parents. With each visit he’s greeted with warm smiles and welcoming hugs, a loving embrace from both mum (Claire Foy) and dad (Jamie Bell). In terms of real life ages Scott is older than both Foy and Bell, the seeming closeness of their characters’ ages is addressed later on when it’s revealed that Adam’s parents passed away thirty years before. He’s using their lives as inspiration for a screenplay he’s struggling to write, however the real reason may be closer to him simply confronting his long-lingering grief.

As he looks back on the past things begin to move forward with the only other person in his building, Harry (Paul Mescal). The two engage in simple back-and-forths to start with, clear interest shown between the pair towards the other, and overtime a relationship potential rears its head around the corner. Throughout the various conversations which make up the film very little is said, there’s plenty of breaks and silence capturing thought and hesitancy – “I play music, but it’s worse when it ends” Adam says about the quietness where he lives – characters say what they need to say and little else.

What’s said is frequently personal for the central character. Considered and believable conversations with his parents where he reverts back to his childhood state while still coming across as his adult self. The quietness is given time and space to settle in and have as much effect as possible, heightened by a set of great performances to boost the emotional core. Adam is trying to move ahead, but finds it difficult to do so as he continues to delve into the ‘what could have been’ of the past. While emotional at their core there’s a warmth to his interactions with his parents, and occasional humour. A scene involving him coming out to his mum is full of well-handled tonal changes as he tries to catch her up on the changes, and proved falsehoods, since the 80s.

Throughout Scott dives into the phrase “I’ve always said that writers know less about the real world than anyone else” as his potential fantasies make for a safe comfort, while the real world and his interactions with Harry, particularly a sequence in a night club, have their fair share of worry and uncertainty from Adam. Will he mess things up? Where will they go? Such thoughts are well combatted by Mescal’s more outgoing, highly flirtatious turn. One particular sequence set to Blur’s Death Of The Party particularly stands out for its effect – the soundtrack as a whole adds a good deal to the film.

Andrew Haigh brings a tenderness to the film through his direction, having also written the screenplay adapted from Taichi Yamada’s novel Strangers. Quiet, calm and thoughtful it injects feeling into the deeply personal set of events that Andrew Scott’s character goes through. The heart helps to power where the journey ends up going, and the confrontations and understandings he makes with his own grief. It invites us in and makes for a stronger connection with the characters as they interact with Adam, exploring his held-in emotions, potentially coming through in full if the events with his parents take place in his mind – the workings of that are up to the viewer. The worlds blend and work together to make for an emotionally intelligent and thoughtful drama.

Full of brilliantly performed personal conversations All Of Us Strangers emphasises thought and quietness in the emotional journey of Andrew Scott’s central figure, making for a tender portrait of stagnant grief and hesitant emotions.

Release Date – 19th January 2024, Cert – 15, Run-time – 2 hours 13 minutes, Director – Alexander Payne

Forced to stay at the boarding school he teaches at to look after kids with nowhere to go at Christmas, Paul Hunham (Paul Giamatti) finds himself forming an understanding with a particularly troublesome student (Dominic Sessa).

“Adversity builds character, Mr Tully” Paul Giamatti’s Paul Hunham tells one of his smartest, yet most troublesome, students after the wider class fails a key exam he’s set just before the Christmas break. It’s a break that he and Dominic Sessa’s Angus Tully will be spending together when the ancient civilisations (he makes sure people know that he doesn’t teach history) teacher is placed on duty for looking after the students with nowhere to go at Christmas.

Tensions are already high between the pair after Angus’ family leave him alone at the last minute, and are uncontactable when all the other remaining students find a way to spend the season elsewhere. Everyone present, including school cook Mary (a standout Da’Vine Joy Randolph) who recently lost her son in the Vietnam War, is closed off and distant. It’s with these kind of characters that Alexander Payne has long best succeeded. Even more so in creating warmth as they gradually come together.

There’s a strong heart shown to the characters in their respective isolation and pain. While one struggles to control his emotions and the other guards himself behind a curmudgeonly persona Mary acts as something of the midway between the pair – further pushing the strength of Randolph’s truly excellent, awards-worthy turn. All three performances are great and have their tender touches, particularly the quiet subtleties of Giamatti’s turn. As the trio gather together for Christmas dinner the moment is simply allowed to exist as it is. The hesitancy drops and the characters slowly draw together to be less alone on that day, and not just for the sake of not being alone.

Natural human relationships are at the core of the film. Effectively stemming from David Hemingson’s screenplay which is scattered with sharp, witty lines of dialogue – Giamatti gets a plethora of hilarious insults throughout, at one point referring to a restaurant as a “fascist hash-foundry”. You buy into the developing bonds on-screen, perhaps propelled by the warm wintry tones of the closing days of the year.

Yet, while there’s humour from the initially distant relationship between Paul and Angus, Payne manages to bring out the more emotional beats and elements of their natures. Overtime, while humour is very much still present but with different focuses instead of a new style, you grow closer to them; feel their disappointment, sadness and even loneliness. There’s a very considered nature to the ways in which their written and performed, pushing the details further and making for an even more engaging character-led piece. One which makes for a simple, unflashy depiction of humanity. Distanced figures coming together when they most need an extended arm. The Holdovers extends such an arm of understanding to both the characters and the viewer.

Consistently funny and filled with warmth, The Holdovers shows Alexander Payne doing what he does best with three brilliantly performed characters coming together amongst emotional pain and isolation, it’s a welcome arm of human understanding.

Release Date – 12th January 2024, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 47 minutes, Directors – Kibwe Tavaras, Daniel Kaluuya

Whilst planning to move to a better apartment, Izi (Kane Robinson) takes in a bereaved child (Jedaiah Bannerman) to his home in The Kitchen, a block of flats regularly attacked by police trying to evict the residents.

There’s a believable design to the world of The Kitchen. Both the titular block of flats and the landscape outside of it. It’s nice to know that no matter how run down the streets of London are, at least Poundland still exists. Yet, it’s a place that the residents of The Kitchen visit little. They largely spend as much time as close to their flats as possible. The small space outside of the building is full of vibrant shops and stalls, easy to close in case the police break in.

Orders have been in place for an extensive time for the demolition of The Kitchen, however the residents refuse to leave – in part for not being able to afford a new, modern flat. Therefore, the police frequently run in capturing as many people who don’t make it back to their flats in time in scenes which maintain a chaotic intensity. The one person with little plan to stay is Kane Robinson’s Izi, he’s saving up to move to one of the various high-tech apartments surrounding his current home. However, he experiences a setback when he takes in bereaved child Benji (Jedaiah Bannerman) after seeing him at the funeral home he works at – where the dead are allowed to move on by being used to grow trees.

As the pair’s quiet and engaging relationship grows the raids on The Kitchen increase in frequency and brutality. It makes Izi even more intent on leaving, however Benji is making his plan more difficult: the flat he’s preparing to move into is only for one person and is strictly monitored. There’s a lot going on in the film in regards to its themes and the different strands that it follows for its central characters, and indeed the main location as we reach the halfway point it feels as if it starts to lose itself amongst them.

As things stretch on the various strands are kept in place, and as they continue it feels as if the story could be condensed into a short film, or as if it’s been adapted from one. Into the second half it starts to leave a somewhat cold feeling. Interest in the setting may be maintained, but with the way the themes are drawn out or tangled throughout the run-time means that things never quite have the same gripping nature as the occasional louder bursts. The themes and focuses shift from scene to scene and, again, almost bring a jumpy quality to the overall film, especially in the second half when the developments should be having more emotional impact.

While there’s interest in the world and engagement with the characters The Kitchen loses itself amongst its different strands, losing effect and feel as if it could be more condensed.

Release Date – 24th November 2023, Cert – 15, Run-time – 2 hours 9 minutes, Director – Bradley Cooper

Leonard Bernstein (Bradley Cooper) looks back on his life, particularly his changing relationship with Felicia Montealegre (Carey Mulligan).

Perhaps one of the best sequences in Maestro is a sequence solely focusing on an orchestra being conducted by Leonard Bernstein (Bradley Cooper). He passionately leads the group as their music echoes across the stone walls of a brightly lit church. At the end as the final note faded a composer sat next to me, having expressed his interest in the film for the musical angle to me beforehand, simply said ‘wow’. Afterwards, when mentioning that his response was my favourite thing about the film, he didn’t know he’d made the quiet exclamation. Further showing the power of the scene, particularly to him.

It’s a moment solely focused on the music, and indeed Bernstein’s relationship to it. The opening stages could almost be plucked straight from a musical as a young Bernstein joyously bounds from his home into a music hall – a huge smile across his face. It’s an energetic start, further encapsulated by Cooper’s performance, getting into the voice and character very early on. While some more stylised sequences may somewhat stick out amongst the more natural, talky tone of the rest of the film, there’s a good early push to show the spark of Bernstein’s rise to fame. “Music is the most important thing I can do” he explains later in the film.

Yet, the relationship that Cooper’s latest directorial effort is more concerned with is that with his wife, Felicia Montealegre (Carey Mulligan, doing a very good ‘old timey Hollywood’ accent). Bernstein looks back on his life in an interview which opens the film, the early days of the couple’s romance shown in black and white. Over time the relationships is tested, particularly when it comes to the central figure delving into his sexuality. It’s a point you wish the film itself would delve into more, alongside a number of other points throughout, as it often skims the surface of what feel like key areas to return to a whistle-stop tour of the central marriage.

Perhaps why the second half works somewhat better as elements relating to Bernstein’s affair and sexuality are reeled in for a focus on the later years of the pairs relationship. You still wish that some more detail would be provided on other matters, the film occasionally feels as if it wants to discuss them more but doesn’t want to push its run-time or get distracted. Therefore, it generally tries its best to stay on its path of looking at Bernstein and Montealegre’s relationship over the years. Like Bernstein with his music you sometimes wish that the film would get a bit more lost in these moments, dig in to find more and bring out the emotion. Instead it avoids doing so, occasionally bringing to mind thoughts that perhaps this might work best for people with a pre-existing knowledge of Bernstein and his work – one beyond his mention in R.E.M.’s It’s The End Of The World As We Know It (and yes, that does get a brief, smile-inducing play).

While what’s present is likable and does a good job of engaging you in the story of a man who “leaves the bathroom door open for fear of being alone” – helped particularly by Cooper’s great central performance – you simply wish that it did that bit more. Instead it sometimes feels as if things are slightly unfocused instead of hesitant, especially in the first half before a more direct nature comes in for the final stages. The later years where Bernstein’s career seems to take a different form, and to some extent the film does as well – although still keeping the more natural dialogue and depictions – showcase the more personal drama for Cooper and Mulligan and its as their relationship becomes more tense, and potentially distant, the things feel most focused.

While starting off with energy and promise, especially thanks to a great performance from Bradley Cooper, Maestro is held back by the fact that it rarely delves into multiple key and interesting points about its central figure, bringing them up but never developing them.

Release Date – 12th January 2024, Cert – 18, Run-time – 2 hours 21 minutes, Director – Yorgos Lanthimos

Since being brought to life Bella (Emma Stone) has been confined to the home and lab of her creator, Dr Godwin Baxter (Willem Dafoe), until she escapes with a debauched lawyer (Mark Ruffalo), learning about the freedoms of the open world.

Bella Baxter’s world is a black and white affair. Confined to the home and lab of her creator, the experimental Dr Godwin Baxter (Willem Dafoe), he’s monitored and analysed as she rapidly develops from making slurred animal noises – in tune with the stitched-together hybrids around the rest of the house – to constructing complete sentences. Soon she yearns to explore the outside world and what it has to offer. Like her we experience an otherworldly feel to the fantastical colour scheme and landscapes throughout director Yorgos Lanthimos’ latest. The off-kilter nature of things offers a strange world for Bella to explore, with the audience alongside her on another journey of development, and understanding.

As she escapes her home, running off with debauched lawyer Duncan Wedderburn (Mark Ruffalo – barely containing his glee with this intentionally hammy and overdramatic role), her eyes are opened to potential freedoms across the world (and all manner of desserts). The world is made up of fascinating contrasts – “I have adventured and seen nothing but sugar and violence” Bella describes “it is quite charming”. Even with the greed and ill intentions she encounters Bella remains a fascinated and eager figure, raring to find her place in the world she’s still learning so much about. In turn she’s an equally fascinating figure from whom we see a full arc of development from over the almost two-and-a-half hour run-time. It feels as if we see her mind expanding in real-time, making for an even more intriguing character hook.

The mixture of the film’s themes, Lanthimos’ style and the visual design of the piece create the vibe of a dazed Wes Anderson, tapping away feverish fantasies at a typewriter that can just about keep up. It’s a strong yet controlled pace with which the themes themselves develop over the course of the film. Further encapsulated within Stone’s performance. As Bella takes part in an utterly joyous dance scene it’s hard not to think that Stone’s on her way to a deserved second Oscar.

As Poor Things depicts growth and strength emerging from unlikely places and circumstances, those with exteriors otherwise creating prejudices of offput and strangeness, it itself potentially creates empowerment from its initial oddities. We see the protagonist push ahead into and away from the world around her, no matter what others say or do; especially Ruffalo’s self-inflated lover, gaining a number of laughs with his vanity, and shutdowns from Stone.

It all makes the final image all the more effective, and particularly enjoyable. The final stages may feel slightly on the long side, but it’s worth it for the last shot before we cut to the credits. Held within the occasional comedic bluntness of the dialogue is an eloquent portrait of personal growth and exploration. Caught in an otherworldly place there’s a lot of visual strength on display and a clear effort in costume, production design and cinematography, complimented by Jerskin Fendrix’s score which adds to the overall engagement factor and effect. Wrapping you further in what’s being detailed on the screen, making for an even more immersive experience. One which has us connect with Bella as she too explores this world for the first time, being willed on by the audience as from the beginning it’s clear she’s making her own way. And what a joy it is to see her do so in such stylistic and untrepedatious fashion.

Bella Baxter is a fascinating, joyous and empowering character made by Emma Stone’s brilliant leading performance, her development is the core hook of Poor Things. Spurred further by the strong otherworldly visual detail emphasising her views and journey against the strong supporting cast around her.

Release Date – 1st January 2024, Cert – 12, Run-time – 1 hour 49 minutes, Director – James Hawes

Looking back on his life, Nicholas Winton (Anthony Hopkins) tries to find a home for his personal documents recounting his efforts in World War II to save child refugees in Prague.

The clip of Nicholas Winton’s second appearance on British consumer affairs series That’s Life goes viral every few months. It consistently manages to stir the emotions in those watching as the full scale of his work decades before is revealed to him. Therefore, it should come as no surprise that such a monumental feat of humanity has made its way to the big screen.

Clearing out his home office whilst his wife (Lena Olin) is away, Winton (Anthony Hopkins) looks back on his efforts to save refugee children in Prague just as World War II breaks out. Johnny Flynn effectively plays the young Winton in a number of flashback sequences which construct the bulk of One Life’s run-time. Such points could so easily feel like another standard British wartime drama, but there’s something about the spirit of the film as a whole which carries it through, alongside the central performances.

“Lots of these children grew up thinking that the worst thing that was ever going to happen to them was piano practice” is the statement given early in the film, as Jewish families face the threat of Nazi occupation. While, of course, there’s plenty within pitching Winton in great deals of heroic light, mixed in with sentimental tones, there are a good deal of sequences which avoid heavy-handedness and that aforementioned typical British war drama feel.

As the older Nicholas compiles various letters, files and documents in the hope of finding a good new home for the book telling of the work he and his fellow volunteers put in to saving the lives of hundreds of children I found a genuine faith in humanity building up in me. Building up to the key emotional core and recreations, especially when sticking the landing with the eventual That’s Life scenes. Such feelings lift the film up as a whole, stir the emotions within the viewer and simply help to push the film beyond something limited by familiarity.

Hopkins and Flynn work together, although never sharing the screen, to bring about the personal emotions of Winton and co’s work. The rush to make sure that children escape to safety as the Nazis clamp down on Czechoslovakia. The pair both give strong performances leading the film with great effect, with James Hawes’ direction helping to rein in the potential for forced hoped-for-impacts along the way. Perhaps the biggest proof that the film works is in the fact that the viral clip which is recreated manages to still have an effect; an element of surprise, particularly thanks to the fact that the moment is simply allowed to exist as it is, albeit with one or two slight cinematic flourishes to shine a light on Winton and his greatly admirable humanitarian efforts and achievements.

Generally avoiding heavy-handedness, forced sentimentality and an over-familiar feeling One Life manages to stir the emotions thanks to being reined in by director James Hawes, alongside Johnny Flynn and Anthony Hopkins’ effective leading performances.