Release Date – TBC, Cert – N/A, Run-time – 1 hour 25 minutes, Director – Quentin Reynaud

A father (André Dussollier) and son (Alex Lutz) try to escape a rapidly spreading wildfire.

Often in disaster films it’s the grand-scale levels of – as the genre name might imply – disaster that have some form of effect. Whether it be joy at the levels of ridiculousness on display or tension from the threat and destruction shown the response is often from the intensity of the disaster. In the case of The Blaze the most effective elements are the quieter visual details which come into play to show the destruction creeping in beyond just the increasingly spreading wildfire taking over the south of France. One of the most impactful of these is the simple image of smoke wafting into a car, displaying that even where the characters have continuously been told to stay isn’t quite safe – although it is somewhat frustrating the amount of times in the opening stages where they leave the vehicle despite having been told countless times not to.

Simon (Alex Lutz) is trapped in an endless queue of traffic with his elderly father Joseph (André Dussollier), hopefully making their way to a safe place away from the destruction of their home. However, it’s not long until the fire captures up and the two are trapped in the woods, surrounded by flames and smoke. While the film might sometimes feel somewhat limited by the fact that the central figures can’t leave the area they’re trapped in due to the fire there’s still a good deal intrigue – if not always tension – during these sequences.

It’s elements such as this which bring about the thought that this might have worked a bit better as a short film, or something focusing more on the pair in the fire – as we leave that environment things begin to feel chaptered and divided in nature. The film admits its flaws in certain moments, mostly that it can’t stay in one place the whole time, but the ending of certain scenes almost feel as if they’re being spent wondering where to go next. While they may lead somewhere that continues your interest in the events and how they might pan out there’s still a somewhat staggered and, again, chaptered feeling to things.

Yet, there’s still something about the father-son relationship on display which further engages and connects the viewer to the piece. When added to the aforementioned visual elements – including a flaming warthog early on, marking one of the most impactful shots of the film – there’s a good deal of content to make for a more held-back and interesting style of disaster film. While it might not contain great deals of tension there’s enough engagement within the narrative to help the 85 minute run-time pass by relatively well, making for a varied, but generally successful, type of disaster film.

While there might not be great deals of tension, largely due to the chaptered nature and occasional restriction as to where to go, there’s plenty of interest to be found in The Blaze both in terms of the effective subtle visuals and the central relationship which keeps you engaged throughout.

Release Date – 16th June 2023, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 50 minutes, Director – Dionne Edwards

Travis (Natey Jones) begins to explore his identity after being released from prison through secretly wearing a dress he buys for his partner (Alexandra Burke) for a musical audition.

As Travis (Natey Jones) looks at the shining red dress in the wardrobe you can see potential hints of his connection to the titular piece of clothing. While there may be hints you don’t entirely feel this connection despite Jones’ performance. Perhaps it’s because the film is less about the reactions to Travis and his exploration of identity more than himself. He’s been recently released from prison and is re-entering the world as a new man in different ways. He’s going straight and finds himself exploring his identity more through secretly donning a red dress he buys for his partner, Candice (a standout Alexandra Burke) for a big musical audition.

However, it’s not long until the private delves break out into the public sphere as Travis starts to display his transvestitism in the open world. There’s plenty of interest to be found in the way that he pushes himself further with the clothing and just how he behaves and puts himself across when most comfortable and expressive in what he wears. “I’m a bit crazy. I express myself differently… by wearing women’s clothes” he explains after stating “I just like being pretty sometimes… Maybe I’m just a bit different”. It’s a fairly matter-of-fact point that he simply wants to feel good in his own choice of clothing, a simply statement that the film makes clear as it goes on and the decisions of the central character begin to impact on his family.

Yet, while the core basis may be somewhat stripped back there are still plenty of details and elements to help push it across. The music playing in the background of some scenes adds to what may be in Travis’ head to simply add to his more confident strut down the street. Music makes for a big lift during some scenes, particularly those featuring Burke as she belts out Tina Turner tunes, going through the audition process to play the star in the musical about her. While as a whole there may be a fairly simplistic nature to the film and the way that it goes about itself it’s helped along and lifted by the way that it goes about these themes. The style and general attitude of the piece is generally light and enjoyable – having some self-acknowledging humour which never feels forced or derogatory.

While it might mean that there’s not necessarily a huge sense of ‘resolution’, or that the closing stages seem somewhat brief, there’s still a fairly likable air about things. It’s what helps the film along and keeps your engagement as the tone that feature debut writer-director Dionne Edwards appears to want to create comes through rather well and creates a lightness that engages you within a story that’s simply told well and in an effectively engaging manner. Once its points and focuses are laid out it’s rather smooth strutting from there.

Pretty Red Dress may take a bit to get across its focuses, but once it does things are clearly laid out and effectively used for a generally light, enjoyable and likable piece of work.

Release Date – 17th March 2023, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 37 minutes, Director – Kristoffer Borgli

Competing with her boyfriend’s (Eirik Sæther) rise in fame, Signe (Kristine Kujath Thorp) does everything she can to regain attention through whatever medical means necessary.

Sick Of Myself not only brings attention seeking to a new artform but to an entirely new level of competitiveness. There’s a fiery need for attention within Signe (Kristine Kujath Thorp) already at the start of the film, however it soon clashes with her boyfriend Thomas’s (Eirik Sæther) increasing rise in the art world with his contemporary sculptures. Thus, the two find themselves in a battle for the love and admiration of their friends, and to some extent beyond. While one remains largely career based the other turns to the medical world, after all we feel, fear and worry for those in pain, don’t we?

Thus Signe turns herself to face more than just a few broken bones – after all she needs more than “56 text messages and a few visits and that’s it” if she’s going to truly feel noticed. There’s a brilliant central performance from Kujath Thorp who knows exactly when to remove the tinge of playfulness as her character begins to spiral further and further into a world of literal pain and risk which raise concern for where she might end up – both mentally and physically. This particularly being the case when some instances – especially one involving a table and a face – are more effective than a number of horror films in getting a response.

Yet, for all such moments and the humour the film creates there’s plenty of interest within the narrative in seeing the cracks begin to come through in Signe’s presentations, and indeed to some extent Thomas’. This especially being the case in the final half hour where the interest and engagement from the viewer carries things through as a lot is packed into this short space of time now the competing and escalating is somewhat out the way. Certainly the competing makes for a number of highlights. There’s plenty of enjoyment to be found within such moments through just how far the central figure goes for attention. Even the escalating packs a good deal of humour in, although perhaps not quite standing as strong as the more back-and-forth style and the cynical, ungrateful responses from Signe in regards to what comes back to her.

Yet, there’s still enough to be found within that final half hour, which still works well, to keep things moving along and stop them from feeling overlong as well (the film managing to come in at just 97 minutes overall). Particularly helped by the fact that you never quite know just where it will go, or just how high the bar will be raised, adding to the humour and anticipation which lies throughout. Not just raising the bar of competitive attention seeking, but taking it into a new competition entirely of its own.

While it might have a lot to get in the final half hour it’s largely because the back-and-forth attention seeking competition led by an excellent Kristine Kujath Thorp is the effectively funny initial focus of much of Sick Of Myself, creating plenty of interest and engagement along the way.

Release Date – TBC, Cert – N/A, Run-time – 1 hour 50 minutes, Director – Hansal Mehta

Retelling of the 2016 terrorist attack on the Holey Artisan Bakery in Bangladesh, also told through the eyes of the family of teenager Faraaz (Zahan Kapoor).

There’s no denying that once the violence within Faraaz begins it doesn’t hold back. An almost relentless barrage of mindless killing as terrorists take over the Holey Artisan Bakery in Dhaka, Bangladesh. The film tells the story of the 2016 attack largely from inside the restaurant where those who remain are held hostage, hoping for help to arrive. The scenes are dark and, again, intensely violent as the loudness of certain instances adds to the overall effect. It’s a point helped by the way in which a number of events and developments occur within a sequence instead of one or two points at a time. It helps with both the flow of the film and capturing the various thoughts in the room at the time.

Where things do feel a bit more split up are as we see the response of the police and other authorities, trying to work out both what’s going on and what to do in response. It’s the same for the family of young man Faraaz (Zahan Kapoor) – who is in the restaurant at the time. A wealthy group with political links they’re determined to do everything they can to ensure that he, alongside his friends and other survivors, make it out safely and alive. It’s therefore somewhat strange that we don’t really spend much time with Faraaz as a character. He’s only briefly scene in the same light as almost everyone else in restaurant. Eventually leading to a rather odd feeling when the film suddenly makes a big deal of him and starts to focus on him as a core figure until right towards the very end.

That being said the final stages still manage to work rather well and go by quickly after the film has started to show its almost two hour run-time in the build-up. An effect likely stemming from the fact that it begins to show more of the other players outside of the main building responding in the streets to the situation. It means that things feel that bit more split up and therefore, while not quite jumping around too much, the film is having to get through more in what starts to feel like less time as you can see the path that it’s wanting to go down.

It manages to reach its end point relatively well, if with a few bumps along the way as, as mentioned, it shifts its focus more towards Faraaz. However, there’s still a darkness that brings about a sense of consistency to the proceedings. You feel the threat and the intensity due to the events which unfold so early in the film with a swift depiction of merciless actions. It crops up again at various points and acts as the deepest tonal point of the piece as a whole, working best when made to be a part of a bigger sequence and set of events which there are a number of over the course of the run-time. It certainly may not be for everyone because of this, but it does manage to add something to the drama that’s on display.

While the titular figure doesn’t really properly come into play until towards the end Faraaz is a film mostly concerned with its threat and darkness, which are undeniably felt with an intense push at the start. Things may occasionally feel a bit too split up but there are plenty of connected sequences to help move things along in-between.

Release Date – 21st October 2022, Cert – N/A, Run-time – 1 hour 39 minutes, Director – Martin Syms

Art student Palace (Diamond Stingily) is thrown into a heady mix of parties as she says goodbye to her friends on her final day of college.

It should be stated that I’m almost certainly not the target audience for The African Desperate. I’m very likely almost the complete opposite. This perhaps explains in part just why I was turned away from its series of raves and parties as much as I was. Over the course of the best part of 90 minutes we see art student Palace (Diamond Stingily) embracing her final night in education through visiting what appears to be a number of different parties, saying goodbye to her friends and solidifying relationships as the night goes on. Yet, in the first ten minutes we see her sat down talking to teachers and lecturers about her work, what she’s wanting to express, her identity and her future.

It’s an interesting opening which begins to set in place some of the techniques and stylings which stand out within the film. Every, so often an old-style meme will pop up in the top right-hand corner of the screen, or some conversations will be shown with characters looking into the camera like on a video call. Some of these admittedly work better than others but they undoubtedly create a specific feel for what’s to come, and create an interesting voice from co-writer (alongside Rocket Caleshu) and director Martine Syms – making her feature debut having prominently worked in the art world, her knowledge and work showing in the nature of the film.

Shortly after we see Palace – having insisted she’s not going to a party despite DJ’ing at one – go through various different styles of rave, trip and conversation as one party leads into the other. On one or two occasions the way the film was leaning reminded me slightly of Brian Welsh’s brilliant 2019 film Beats in the way in which it showed its characters letting go and being caught up in the music. However, in the case of that feature there was build-up and you felt a connection to the characters, particularly in that moment. In the case of The African Desperate it’s difficult to form that connection, particularly with the way in which things move along. It eventually becomes a confusing set of events where one moment leads into another, unclear as to whether we’re at a new party, the same one altered by drugs or just something completely different such as held in the tint of a lucid dream sequence.

Again, much of this could simply come down to the fact that I am not the target audience for this film. As I sat there are watched I simply became more confused as to what was going on, what was meant to be happening and where we actually were in the third or fourth variation of a drink and drug scene. There’s every possibility that I simply didn’t understand what was going on. There’s a chance that this could one day be viewed as something misunderstood thanks to a cult status at some point in the future. All these thoughts came to mind at some point as I tried to understand just why I wasn’t connecting with the film until simply landing on the fact that I just wasn’t connecting with it due to what felt like a lack of structure.

There’s some interesting direction within The African Desperate, and I look forward to seeing what Martine Syms does next, and indeed how this particular film develops and works with a broader audience. However, personally there was little to connect with to properly be brought into a world that you truly have to be brought into to properly ride with the film. Running from one moment to another with no clear bridge between to help with progression of both events and characters it just creates a bigger distance from itself until it continues to appear to move along with little to no connection.

With how little there was to connect with in the various extensive party sequences The African Desperate is not for me, however it may well find an audience and the direction and styles shown by Martin Syms create interest for what she will do in the future.

Release Date – TBC, Cert – N/A, Run-time – 1 hour 52 minutes, Director – Jung Bum-shik

A group of strangers find themselves walking into increasingly strange, and occasionally deadly, situations within their everyday lives.

New Normal is perhaps one of the most baffling films I have seen in quite some time. Largely down to the fact that I, or anyone else in the screening for that matter, never really seemed to know what it was trying to do. A series of vignette’s tend to be linked via murders and deaths, perhaps all by the same killer. There’s an obviousness to such moments as things are generally tracked with little to hook you in or find interest. It’s a dull, boring set of events that simply moves along rather slowly. Yet, there’s an underlying sense of something else which is explored later on within the almost two hour run-time. A strange sense of self-knowing which comes into play almost halfway through.

As we see a young man following a trail of notes left in vending machines to potentially meet his soulmate – from blood type to zodiac sign – there’s a level of interest that’s sprouted. Yes, we have to get past him Googling how many steps in 100 metres first, but still as the segment goes on there’s something to maybe like about it. Perhaps it’s the fact that it moves a long a bit more quickly than what has come before, alongside simply having more going on too. Regardless, there may be ridiculous elements to this particular strand, but it’s these which, to some extent, make it a more enjoyable portion.

From then on you never quite know if the film is travelling along with a kind of self-aware nature or not. If certain points are meant to be played for laughs or not. This even being the case within a Peeping Tom (the chapters are titled after various films) segment following another young man, spending his time in his apartment playing video games when he’s not filming his neighbour without her knowing, literally breaking into his neighbour’s apartment and getting up to some rather creepy activity – not including “I’m brushing my teeth with her toothbrush. Indirect kiss”. In fact, much of the film can simply be defined as weird and strange, and not in the best way. More in an off-putting sense which distances you from the film as a whole instead of a comedic manner which engages you with a knowing wink-and-nudge humour.

By the time the final stages arrive, and things have started to slightly pick up, although still within an air of confusion, we arrive at another drawn out segment. Forcibly bringing the characters and their scenarios together in what feels like a deeply lazy and extended set of events which leave, once again, little to be interested in. The final result for New Normal is both messy and confusing. It starts off truly bad, and while it shows glimpses of finding its feet in some strange area of uncertain self-awareness it stumbles and falters again down a path of poor construction and little substance.

New Normal is a confusing piece of work that starts to hint that it might be in on its own joke before caving in again and simply leaving a messy pile of unengaging character interactions in its path.

Release Date – TBC, Cert – N/A, Run-time – 1 hour 30 minutes, Director – Tim Mackenzie-Smith

Documentary looking at the work and influence of eclectic 70s band Cymande.

“I always wanted the bass to be an instrument that speaks” explains Steve Scipio in an interview delving into the various elements of the music of eclectic 70s band Cymande. It’s one of the many elements which led the band to have growing influence outside of their initial run together through being sampled in multiple tracks over the years. There’s a clear love and respect as shown by other artists and DJs who exclaim their experiences with Cymande’s music, fondly remembering the first time they heard it rumbling through the speakers.

Yet, our initial engagement comes through the band in the present day. Whilst we see them looking back on the 70s and the major South London locations in their lives there’s a fair deal of good humour from each member which helps to ease the viewer into the documentary following them. It allows us to engage more with them and the various genres of music they delved into, including soul, funk and jazz. When looking at the band themselves the film is at its most interesting. Where it begins to deviate is as it takes a look at the reception to their work, and the way in which it was sampled in further tracks over the years.

Interviews start to overlap and repeat each other, bringing in the style of a more standard music doc. While what’s there is still watchable and has your interest it seems to gradually lean away from that initial point of engagement: the band themselves. The focus becomes how their music was used after going their separate ways. The ways in which it was sampled, eventually leading over the strands about how it was adapted to other styles and genres, only really manage to go so far in the film’s second half.

While a key point of this section there are still elements looking at the band themselves, largely how they’ve reformed in the present day and the new found success that they’ve had. It further shows how they’re the biggest drawing factor of the documentary thanks to the clear passion they have for music and the humour which they share and put across. While the film might lean away from this for extended periods of time it eventually comes back to them and reminds us of just who and what spawned the initial praise we see in multiple interviews throughout.

The highlight of Getting It Back: The Story Of Cymande is undeniably the band themselves, their passion for music and humour is the biggest source of engagement amongst the eventual leanings away into slightly overlapping interviews.

Release Date – 16th June 2023, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 22 minutes, Director – Fridtjof Ryder

After returning home after time in a psychiatric hospital a young man (Rory Alexander) begins to delve into his past and disappeared mother.

There’s a divide between the naturalistic and the arthouse within writer-director Fridtjof Ryder’s feature debut Inland. While we enter into the more direct nature of the world in the well-settled first act, seeing Rory Alexander’s ‘Man’ re-entering his home in Gloucester after what seems like time in a psychiatric ward. He meets the friendly figure of Mark Rylance’s mechanic Dunleavey who takes him in, although the impression is that everything might not be as it seems. However, as the film goes on it asks whether this is actually the case with Rylance’s character or the protagonist.

We follow ‘Man’ – as he’s named in the credits – as he begins to lightly delve into past whilst searching for clues to his disappeared mother. As we delve more into this element of the narrative tones of mystery and ambiguity become more prominent. They contrast with the more naturalistic tones which open the film causing it to feel as if you’re settling into an almost different film.

There are still some good moments dotted here and there within the short 82 minute run-time, however not quite enough to truly lift from the more ambiguous moments where you’re not sure what to make of what’s going on. This particularly being the case with the third act which features more extended moments along these lines, especially in the build-up to the ending. It removes most of the interest in the lines of mystery which are set up beforehand meaning that the more the film goes on the more it seems to push you away.

It’s a shame for something which starts off with quiet promise through the subtle mystery of the naturalistic tones and performances of the opening stages. There may be moments throughout which help to bring back interest as they go back to this style and continue a more direct style of light narrative in this manner. There’s even some engagement within the initial leanings into more less-obvious stylings, however the more the film walks into this territory, especially in the final stages, the more it seems to lose itself, and the viewer’s attention.

While it may start off with quiet interest through the more direct naturalism the more Inland leans into its more ambiguous arthouse stylings the more it distances itself from the viewer, despite occasional patches which bring back the former.