Just A Little Bit Random

LFF 2025: The Good Boy – Review

This review was published after the film’s LFF screenings in 2025 when it went under the slightly shorter title of Good Boy.

Release Date – 20th March 2026, Cert – TBC, Run-time – 1 hour 50 minutes, Director – Jan Komasa

Reckless youth Tommy (Anson Boon) is kidnapped by a family he doesn’t know who trap him in their basement wishing to teach him a lesson about valuing his life.

As we see an extremely reluctant set of minor changes in Good Boy’s main character, Tommy (Anson Boon), I was reminded of the Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared TV series. But, instead of Stain Edwards being transformed into the not-quite-departed Duck the sinisterly dark comedy at hand made me think that the intent from the family who have kidnapped and trapped him is to almost indoctrinate him into their drab home. But, Tommy proves a struggle for them as he lashes out and attempts to escape his imprisonment from the group of strangers.

Attempting to change the violent and reckless youth’s life – the opening two or three minutes does a good job of making him instantly, wholly unlikable with his obnoxious partying lifestyle – 80s style VHS tapes are shown to him, alongside his own TikToks, claiming “everything that surrounds you is filled with love and understanding.” The uneasy style of ‘care’ shown, however, largely by father Chris (Stephen Graham with a hint of Dennis Nilsen about him) certainly say otherwise. Yet, despite the sinister nature at hand there’s still a slight gentleness and warmth shown from Chris towards Tommy, as if he does actually have good intentions in wanting to see him be better person – even if he goes around it in far from the right way.

Chris also cares for his wife, Kathryn (Andrea Riseborough), who herself seems to be ill. A quiet and isolated figure there’s very little for Riseborough to do for a good chunk of the film, leading me to sit and wonder when the detail that could have attracted her to the role was going to finally arrive. While largely confined to the second half, where some of the film’s darker edges wear off leading to a dampened effect from the pushed run-time.

There are still darker elements at play, and some moments of real suspense, especially when it comes to one particularly difficult-to-watch scene involving Chris and Kathryn’s young son Jonathan (Kit Rakusen). However, as we learn more about the family and Tommy starts to find more freedom in the house – even if still walking with a literal chain around his neck – the tone starts to shift, and in that the film appears to lose itself and where its strengths lay. It doesn’t quite become a different film, but one simply stuck in its shifts and weakening because of that. The darkness of the comedy, and to some extent the comedy in general, isn’t quite as present and the film appears to be more clearly trying to build towards an ending, albeit quite gradually. But, when remembering its darker tones in various aspects Good Boy is at its best with a sinister nature hanging over both the humour and drama, with help from Stephen Graham and Anson Boon’s paired performances in particular.

Working best when focusing on the darkly comic and sinister Good Boy starts to lose itself in its tonal shifts, meaning that its effects wear off and thematically it starts to feel as if it strays.

Anaconda – Review

Cert – 12, Run-time – 1 hour 39 minutes, Director – Tom Gormican

A group of friends (Jack Black, Paul Rudd, Steve Zahn, Thandiwe Newton) set out to the Amazon rainforest to achieve their childhood dream of making a film. However, whilst remaking Anaconda they must escape an actual giant snake.

In the build-up to this not-quite-remake of cult 90s creature adventure flick Anaconda (one that even with that cult audience still doesn’t have the best of reputations) I found myself wondering why Paul Rudd and Jack Black weren’t just playing themselves instead of struggling actor and aspiring director turned wedding video maker Griff and Doug. Perhaps that would feel a bit too self-referential with too many distracting in-jokes, and what we get certainly has a good few chuckles as the childhood friends reunite, alongside Thandiwe Newton’s Claire and Steve Zahn’s Kenny, to finally achieve their dream of making a film together.

The film in question is a remake of Anaconda, which Griff claims to have the rights of after the widow of the Japanese author who wrote the book the original is allegedly based on enjoyed the four episodes of a cop show he was in years before agreed to give them to him. So, with very little budget the four set out to the Amazon rainforest to make their film. As they make a series horror-adventure flick this reboot is firmly a comedy that acknowledges the ridiculousness of the eventual giant snake attacks, and the original film – particularly Jon Voight’s accent.

While not frequently or raucously funny there are still some good chuckles to be found here, and they largely come from the characters being themselves – a sign that the pair of leads not playing themselves was perhaps the better decision; although while led by Rudd and Black in advertising and general narrative this does largely play out as an effective four-hander, even if Newton gets very little of the comedy which is mostly handed to her male co-stars.

However, narratively the film appears to admit that it’s rather thin. Travelling down the river via river boat the group take a good while the come across the titular snake itself, which seems to appear just over halfway through and then crops up for various sequences from then. Alongside this main thread there’s also a strange strand about gold smugglers (led by Daniela Melchior as Ana, who we see fleeing men with guns tracking her from the film’s opening). This strand consistently feels out of place and thin amongst everything else that’s surrounding it, and ultimately feels like little more than padding for the run-time, which itself feels slightly overlong with some of the slower-paced set-pieces, and perhaps set-up once we finally arrive in the Amazon.

It’s hard to judge this against the original Anaconda because it’s a very different film. One that’s more tongue-in-cheek and aware of its central elements, with a sense of self-awareness about at least its core details. However, the laughs can be sporadic which also means you feel the fairly short run-time. When the laughs do come through they hit relatively well and help to move things along, generally working best when this film is putting the comedy first, especially as it’s meant to be a comedy. It’s unlikely anyone will view this as anything particularly great, but for the most part it’s a likable enough comedy that’s easy enough to switch off into and be amused by whilst on.

While not as funny as it perhaps could be due to getting distracted with thin sideplots, Anaconda manages to raise a couple of chuckles through its run-time thanks to the characters at hand and the ways in which, for the most part, they lead the film.

Song Sung Blue – Review

Cert – 12, Run-time – 2 hours 12 minutes, Director – Craig Brewer

Husband and wife Neil Diamond tribute act Lightning (Hugh Jackman) And Thunder (Kate Hudson) taking the state of Wisconsin by storm, with music helping them get through many personal battles.

I can’t help but feel that part of the reason Hugh Jackman said yes to Song Sung Blue was for the opportunity to sing whilst doing a bit of acting. That’s not to say that his performance is bad or lazy, it’s certainly not, but it certainly seems to have the most push put into the songs with a slight acknowledgement that this isn’t quite an awards contender.

It’s the musical sequences in writer-director Craig Brewer’s latest which have the most effect. Whether a crowdpleaser like the much-mentioned Sweet Caroline or Forever In Blue Jeans, or a more held back ballad there’s a likable nature to the moments of performance as Neil Diamond tribute act Lightning And Thunder, better known as Mike (Jackman) and Claire (Kate Hudson) become local legends in the state of Wisconsin. Their act, and relationship, comes together quickly after meeting at a fair when performing as part of a tribute act line-up, of which Mike is tired, feeling nothing for the music he’s told to play.

As rowdy biker bars are exchanged for theatres and casino audiences, with Thai restaurant karaoke gigs cropping up along the way, the success the pair find contrasts with the events of their lives as they face personal tragedies. The drama is certainly played up and can occasionally feel somewhat forceful, especially when certain ideas and drawn out with a teary attitude from the film that doesn’t quite translate to those watching, with the main effect being a pushed run-time.

The drama itself feels overfamiliar, in part because of its oversentimentality which brings in a sense of slight awards bait. It leads to an air of artificiality to the overall film, despite lead performances which are putting themselves into the songs and clearly like the characters they’re playing and what the escape and release they find in the music. At their lowest we see them not singing or even really listening to music, instead lying on the sofa watching Family Feud or scanning phone books and newspapers for other work.

Yet, there’s a feeling that certain elements behind the camera don’t quite have the same investment or engagement with the Lightning And Thunder story – the film itself is based on a true story, particularly found in a 2008 documentary of the same name. It means that there feels like a push to compensate for something that doesn’t need to be compensated for. Therefore, the film falls into unnecessary trappings that show its conventions and familiar beats that cause it to be held back despite the likable nature of the musical performances and the links to their effect on the characters, and their simple love of Neil Diamond. If that was kept more in mind throughout the whole film then it may have passed by a bit more easily. For what there is, Song Sung Blue is a solid enough piece of work that doesn’t cause too much trouble whilst on, but feels as if it could be stronger and more in tune with the songs it occasionally makes a big point of.

While the musical performances are highlights it’s because they emphasise the performances best and the relationship the characters have with the music at the hear of Song Sung Blue, however overemphasised drama creates familiarity and emotional holdback.

The Housemaid – Review

Cert – 15, Run-time – 2 hours 11 minutes, Director – Paul Feig

Needing a job to meet parole requirements, Millie (Sydney Sweeney) becomes the housemaid for the Winchester family (Amanda Seyfried, Brandon Sklenar, Indiana Elle), whose erratic behaviour quickly raises tensions in the house.

Amanda Seyfried is currently in the awards conversation for her leading turn in The Testament Of Ann Lee. However, if she wins anything I’m going to pretend that it’s really a win for The Housemaid. Seyfried truly understands the levels of camp required for this latest thriller from director Paul Feig. Based on the novel of the same name, this is a more contained set of events than either of the Simple Favour films, barrelling along with a growing sense of fun with each sudden switch in character.

They arrive early as Sydney Sweeney’s Millie becomes the new housemaid for the Winchester family. Welcomed with open arms by Seyfried’s Nina the first proper day is jumpstarted when Nina starts to break the kitchen in frustration that her PTA speech has been either hidden or disposed of, either way blaming Millie. Her behaviour only grows more erratic as time goes on, with the future of Millie’s job uncertain – she knows she needs to keep it to meet the requirements for her continued parole, having spend the last ten years in prison for a crime that goes largely undiscussed. While seven-year-old daughter Cece (Indiana Elle) takes against Millie with many blunt interactions it’s husband Andrew (Brandon Sklenar) who keeps her in work. Looking out for Millie while he calms Nina down and sees through multiple outbursts.

Could more than a housemaid and employer bond be forming between Millie and Andrew? The answer very early on is yes, the film certainly doesn’t try to hide this fact although doesn’t make it an in-your-face focus. There’s a good deal more to get through before then. As twists and turns arrive and tension grows within the wealthy household there’s a great deal of fun to be had as even Feig seems to be finding a way to chew the scenery from behind the camera. Embracing the camp while still getting across a solid sense of drama to the thriller narrative. One that I found an unexpectedly good time in the company of.

The Housemaid is proof that marketing can be deceptive. I thought I knew what I would be getting going in, but found a much more enjoyable, and very likely rewatchable time. One that manages to sprinkle in a good few chuckles along the way – including in references to Barry Lyndon amongst the dark comedy. And while there are good performances to help things along none shine more than in Seyfried’s gleefully ramped up turn. Itself single-handedly boosting the entertainment factor and letting us know just what kind of film we’re in for from the opening scene where Nina sits down to interview Millie.

Once wincing at the bloodier elements of the films third act I knew, although even a good while before this, that I was truly in its grip. Not even minding the slightly overlong run-time as the entertainment continued to consistently flow with a darker thrill coming through. The Housemaid is a film that’s absolutely sure of itself, although perhaps not always intentionally, and is all the better for it. Taking you through the smirking events of a thriller that has just a bit more bite than it perhaps knows (and fortunately might also intend). I can’t wait to go on this fast-paced, entertainingly edgy, with plenty of unforced camp, ride again.

A wonderfully entertaining thrill ride with plenty of campness and the right level of edge, The Housemaid raises a good few chuckles amongst the fast-paced developments. Even if you can see them coming there’s still a dark glee to be had with this well-contained thriller.

Top Ten Films Of 2025

2025 may not go down as a banner year for film. However, it was one that saw a growth in highlights and discussion around original films from audiences who seemed to turn away more from franchise titles. Sequels still provided solid box office, even if not quite in the way of numbers that have become expected after recent years of billion-dollar grossing superhero and family flicks.

Instead, indie, genre and foreign features have caught attention. Original horrors Sinners and Weapons are among the biggest, an undoubtedly most discussed, films of the year – with the former being a frontrunner in a number of categories as we enter awards season. Additionally. the Phillippou brothers’ Talk To Me follow-up Bring Her Back created much conversation, especially around Sally Hawkins’ brilliantly unsettling performance.

In the UK comedies such as The Roses, The Ballad Of Wallis Island and Bridget Jones: Mad About The Boy proved popular with audiences, with the latter two titles particularly landing an emotional effect alongside creating laughs. While in terms of overall acclaim adult dramas like One Battle After Another continued to prove that there is demand for these kind of films. Foreign language titles further showed this with more seemingly being discussed each year. While Mickey 17 may have proved divisive, Bong Joon-ho’s beloved Parasite seems to still have had an effect in bringing audiences towards foreign language titles a few years on. From Norwegian Sentimental Value, Iranian It Was Just An Accident and Portuguese I’m Still Here – all solid awards contenders (and in the latter case Oscar winner) – to a number of anime hits such as Demon Slayer: Infinity Castle and Chainsaw Man.

With anime films in mind Zootropolis 2 may be one of the two (likely to be three once Avatar: Fire And Ash crosses the mark) billion dollar grossers this year, but in general animation seems to have been dominated by indie groups in 2025 (albeit a year without many animated titles). Memoir Of A Snail may have received plenty of love, but the film that truly stole hearts, and imaginations, was undoubtedly Flow – which also took away the Best Animated Feature Oscar this year.

There may still be plenty of audience for the latest Marvel or DC blockbusters (this was the year where many found unexpected enjoyment in Thunderbolts*, and it’s just nice to feel a sense of hope from Superman again), and Wicked: For Good and Avatar: Fire And Ash once again brought in crowds (as it seems has Marty Supreme towards the end of the year with multiple sold out screenings from what I’ve seen). But, indie titles, original films and just generally non-traditional-blockbuster cinema continue to grow their audiences and in turn demand. And that may well be my biggest takeaway from 2025 cinema.

Looking at my own personal top ten it does look like a lot of indie films about people being said, but those have been the most emotionally striking and affecting works from this year. The ones that have played on my mind the longest (one or two since first seeing in October 2024). Yes, 2025 may not have been the greatest year for film, but there have still bee some great films which will stay with me for considerably longer than some of my top ten films from previous years. And so, to bring this traditional opening waffle to a close, here are (by UK release date) my top ten films of 2025:

10. Good One

India Donaldson’s emotionally intelligent debut successfully avoids falling into the trappings of a coming-of-age film. In fact, it’s not a coming-of-age film at all. More a character study of teenage Sam (Lily Collias – matching the subtleties of Donaldson’s direction), as she embarks on a hiking weekend with her dad (James Le Gros) and family friend Matt (Danny McCarthy).

However, as the pair start to see the weekend as a form of competition, especially when meeting a trio of younger hikers who make the pair feel out-of-touch, or as it actually appears emasculated, a film about both a gender and generational gap starts to appear. Sam is emotionally open, at least with those close to her – a distance seems to have formed with her father since he divorced from her mum – and confident in herself. But, Matt and Chris appear to internalise everything, putting on a consistent machismo façade, with little confidence in itself. Without being forced the divide between the group is easily shown without feeling like a rift, it’s, for most of the run-time at least, shown as a distance. One that creates awkwardness, hesitation and uncertainty.

Good One is as much about externalising feelings, and false personas, as it is the aforementioned generational gap. A quiet and intelligent drama which consistently keeps its wonderfully performed character in focus as she remains sure of who she is and her place in the world amongst two people in an unknowing competition to show that they seemingly don’t and are unnecessarily insecure because of that.

9. Restless

The scariest film of the year and it’s all purely naturalistic. Restless is a film that understands how to utilise panic. A fear for Lyndsey Marshall’s increasingly tired lead character as she fails to sleep every night due to the noise from her new, partying neighbours. Themselves, led by Aston McAuley, starting to taunt her before turning aggressive.

Each development and decision Marshall’s Nicky makes creates leads to another tense, squirm-inducing sequence. Creating near-audible wishes for her to just go back to safety, or simply for her to not be in a certain situation where it feels her life could be at risk. With multiple such moments in the short 89-minute run-time which still manages to raise some chuckles in the closing stages without creating a sudden sense of tonal whiplash.

I’ve seen Restless a couple of times now, and am still calming down from the last viewing. Each time I’ve almost watched some moments from behind my hands in a way you might expect from a gruesome slasher or body horror, Yet, this film has nothing like that here. It all plays out in a realistic, down-to-earth way that makes Nicky feel more isolated in her effort to simply get some sleep. We can see and feel her tiredness and escalating madness in the wake of the nightly torment she’s facing. Creating that sympathy and fear for her as her neighbours’ rage grows to the point where it feels he could easily break down her front door and kill her. Truly scary, worst-case-scenario horror. And much like Spielberg’s Duel it works because we feel it could actually happen.

8. On Falling

I can’t put my finger on what makes On Falling such a brilliant depiction of isolation and loneliness, but there’s something about writer-director Laura Carreira’s observation and Joana Santos’ understated central performance that truly get to the heart of those feelings.

On Falling is a film about the effects of being shut off, and to some extent shutting yourself off, from the rest of the world. The unhealthy nature of being suffocated by work so you can’t have a proper work-life balance and time that is your own. The impact that this has on Santos’ Aurora can be seen in the way she almost struggles to carry herself, and put herself across in certain moments as she appears to feel the weight and pressure of her warehouse picker job wherever she goes. The film;s view of her and her situation is greatly empathetic, putting that onto the audience with ease.

Worry, hope and tension mix together all felt towards Aurora as to whether she’ll be able to escape and move to a job that will get her more freedom. Hesitations in a job interview scene, failing to answer he hobbies because she hasn’t got time for them, is painful to watch simply because we want to see her succeed. And because so much of the film comes from a place of understanding for both the isolation and loneliness felt, and the context of the immigrant experience which can further contribute to both.

7. The Ballad Of Wallis Island

This might be my favourite film of the year, and it certainly has one of the best soundtracks. The key to The Ballad Of Wallis Island is just how much heart it’s got. There’s an emotional undercurrent to pretty much everything we see that grows the charm found in both the frequent humour and the film as a whole.

A distinctly British film that’s made with love and care for the characters it rather wonderfully, not to mention subtly, brings in themes of looking back, moving on and letting go. And the healthy ways in which to do so. All as part of not getting stuck in the past and focusing on just that, with it being different cases for each of the central three characters – each wonderfully performed. Although, perhaps none more so than Tim Key who should be in the awards conversation for his supporting turn in this film.

Really, Wallis Island should be in consideration for its screenplay, scattered with some brilliant quips and pieces of wordplay, and multiple original songs (while not exactly prominent Raspberry Fair has been a key track on rotation for me since first seeing the film), too. A warm and funny film that successfully weaves in its core ideas to each scene, growing to form something much bigger that still fits into its calm, quaint and charming surroundings. It’s a real gem that I hope continues to be picked up in future, and one that certainly I’ll be returning to for a good while to come.

6. Train Dreams

The grandness of an ordinary life. So much of what makes Train Dreams is in the narration which tracks the life of Joel Edgerton’s Robert Grainier against the rapidly changing face of 20th century America.

Edgerton says very little over the course of the film, yet you can see the immense weight his character is carrying through the pure physicality of his performance. So much about Grainier is internalised, he’s a muted and withheld figure, especially in the wake of tragedy and a distance from the world outside of his wife (Felicity Jones) and child.

While tinged with sadness there’s a wisdom and sentiment to a number of conversations throughout the film. Fitting with the feeling of a great American novel, which the narration (spoken by Will Patton) pushes alongside the brilliant visuals. Director Clint Bentley and cinematographer Adolpho Veloso have made one of the most visually stunning films of the year, another that makes me wish Netflix would properly release their films to be seen on the big screen as they deserve to be instead of quietly dropping on their service after a brief limited cinema run. Thankfully, through becoming a deserving awards contender Train Dreams has found, and seemed to maintained, an audience.

It’s great to see such attention directed towards a restrained, thoughtful drama that keeps in mind the vast picture of a normal life amongst the small details.

5. Alpha

A more restrained, rather different body horror affair to writer-director Julia Ducournau’s previous films, Raw and Titane. Ducournau has never been a director for pure shock when it comes to her horror, and there’s little in Alpha that’s there for shock. Instead it creates a deeper sense of emotion within the story of generational fear, pain, worry and grief.

The filmmaker is interested in the emotional side of things and telling the story, using the visuals of the film to heighten that and move the plot along. As those with an unknown virus start to turn to marble, in a tired and run-down 80s-style setting that boosts the idea that the virus is linked to AIDS, key moments see people coughing dust, or a back made up of jagged edges almost shatter – a true gasp-inducing moment. Fear grows as to what will happen if 13-year-old Alpha (Mélissa Boros) has the virus, but what if she doesn’t and everybody thinks she has? One of the most effective images in the film, involving blood spreading through a swimming pool, shows just what would happen. Creating a shock of worry for the titular character.

The first time I saw the film I wasn’t entirely sure as to the directions the final stages were going, or what they were meant to mean. Yet, I was still totally invested in the film. Caught in emotional engagement, and that’s what mattered most, the fact that I understood the film emotionally and what it was trying to do in that regard. It continued to be stirring in its depiction of personal conflictions for both Alpha and her family – who themselves have shared and contrasting fears and worries in relation to the virus which she may have, and her uncle (Tahar Rahim) definitely has. We see him slowly turning into a marble statue. Coming together to make for an emotionally investing body horror that uses its genre elements to heighten the details of the characters and story at hand and the ways in which things move forward.

4. Sorry, Baby

One of the most profound films of the year, multi-hyphenate Eva Victor has made a film of tragedy that maintains a spirit of hopefulness. So much of the film is tinged with worry, fear and the lingering effects of trauma. Yet, there are glimmers of understanding that see things through, alongside a scattering of effective humour that also comes through some of the anxiety and responses of Victor’s Agnes.

We go from ‘the year with the bad thing’ to ‘the year with the good sandwich’ – itself a title that provides a hint of optimism. Piecing together events at different stages in time and how Agnes’ life changes, and her reactions to the world around her. Each element is tenderly dealt with with an empathetic gaze which allows for something that manages to make for a more easily digestible film, alongside the humour which brings an entertaining nature amongst the struggle that we see Agnes go through.

Sorry, Baby is certainly a film that stayed with me for a long time afterwards. It tells its story in an original and thoughtful way, creating impact very early on and maintaining it long after the credits have finished rolling. It’s a film about hidden emotions, coping and internalised battles that for multiple reasons aren’t properly discussed or let out – largely through ignorance or lack of understanding from others. It’s what makes the brief scene involving John Carroll Lynch, and the good sandwich, so effective. A moment of simple care and understanding with some real heart at the centre of it. And in many ways, that’s what Sorry, Baby is as well.

3. Saturday Night

I’m not really a fan of Saturday Night Live, but managed to be caught up in the catharsis of this schmaltz-less love letter to the show. While the recreations of SNL sketches may fail to get laughs there are plenty throughout the rest of the film as Jason Reitman’s camera tracks the various figures involved with the show as backstage arguments and chaos unfold in the 90-minutes building up to the show’s uncertain first broadcast.

Crackling with energy from start to finish the film barrels along full force capturing the personalities of the characters perfectly in the style, also thanks to the tight screenplay courtesy of Reitman and Gil Kenan. Easily keeping track of the multiple figures, disagreements and events unfolding amongst the hopes and fears for the show. Much of which is captured in the performance of Gabriel LaBelle as show creator Lorne Michaels – keeping everything as grounded as possible with an awards-worthy turn.

I wasn’t expecting to get on with Saturday Night as much as I did, but there’s something about its energy and style which is purely irresistible. A celebration of SNL, a show made for the generation who grew up watching TV by the generation who grew up watching TV. And that want to make something revolutionary is captured perfectly in the film that above anything else gets across the want to make something different with a cast (and crew) who don’t quite embrace but certainly resemble chaos and disruption, even if not in the conventional sense either.

I’ve seen this a couple of times now and each time it’s been just as joyous and free. One of the most entertaining films of the year and I’ve absolutely fallen in love with it each time.

2. Memoir Of A Snail

There’s an image in the first few minutes of Memoir Of A Snail that captures an all too familiar feeling. As a young child, Grace (Sarah Snook) is in the playground, surrounded by bullies taunting her. An imaginary protective snail shell forms around her. Both shielding and shutting her off from the world around her. This image had me considerably tearing up and for the rest of the film I sat on the verge of tears.

Finally following up the brilliant Mary And Max, Adam Elliott brings another film that understands people. Those who may well feel like outsiders, especially. Embracing such figures and admitting that it can be hard to be a person, to get through life, there’s so much care and understanding in Memoir Of A Snail. A film that is constantly in-touch with its central character and her emotions. As she simply wants to find happiness and acceptance, and manages to do so at certain points, including in care-free, chuckle-inducing elderly friend Pinky (Jacki Weaver).

There’s plenty of silly humour to be found throughout that manages to border on quirky without fully diving into it and emphasises the joy of the ‘outsider’ nature. Also captured in Elliott’s particular visual style that can be found in a number of his stop-motion projects. Still finding more than enough room for the emotional aspects in the wake of personal pain and distance from Grace’s brother Gilbert (Kodi Smit-McPhee) this was a film that I’m glad I gave myself time to reflect on it after first seeing it at a festival, instead of jumping straight into the next screening. It’s a film that needed me to spend time with it. To stay in its emotions and reflections. To feel understood by it in some way. And the film, for me, was all the better for that being the case, and continues to be after a long-overdue re-watch whilst putting this list together. And love it and the way that Adam Elliott views, and clearly loves, people and the world.

1. Hard Truths

Marianne Jean-Baptiste gives the best performance of the year in Hard Truths. Capturing bitter rants which at one moment can raise a chuckle and the next create awkwardness and tension in Pansy’s intensely distanced family life. The reason for her anger at the world around her is briefly mentioned early on with her sister Chantelle (Michele Austin), but they properly come to the fore in a sudden flood of emotional release just over halfway through where true understanding is formed. The lingering overflow in the following scenes creates a tenderness in the performance if not entirely the character.

Hard Truths is a film about held-in fear, anxiety, sadness and isolation; all shown in Mike Leigh’s key naturalistic style. The contrast between the two sisters details two very different responses to coping with life, and eventually grief. A true mix of human emotion conflicts in the film and the dramas at hand. Less a character study and more an emotional one, as Pansy breaks down crying “they all hate me” you feel the hurt at her core, with everything beforehand having contextualised it with ease and rawness.

This is a film with many frequent punches of humour, emotion and pain. All making for a very human portrait of responses and reactions. All helmed by a powerhouse performance from Marianne Jean-Baptiste which should have won, let alone been nominated for, an Oscar. A knockout portrait of emotions, and the best film of 2025.

PIFF 2022: Father Of Flies – Q&A w/ Ben Charles Edwards

An interview I (in the role of Britain’s palest man) held with the co-writer and director of Father Of Flies, Ben Charles Edwards, as part of a series of Q&As for the 2022 edition of the Paris International Film Festival.

During the interview we talk about working on a horror film with a child protagonist for the first time, finding the right remote house and mask for sinister dancing, and how Pogo The Clown helped to bring fear whilst joining together plot details.

PIFF 2022: Front Stage And Back – Q&A w/ Charlie Williams and Theodore Bouloukos

An interview held as part of the 2022 Paris International Film Festival with the director and star of documentary Front Stage And Back, Charlie Williams and Theodore Bouloukos.

During the interview we talk about the relationship between the director and star that allowed for Theodore to come across as himself on screen, the effects of looking back on a career and the film coincidentally catching its star at a key transitional point in his attitudes and career.

While I wish looking back on this interview that I’d put aside the nerves a bit more in order to both relax and riff with Charlie and Theodore a bit more it’s all part of a continuing learning curve. The pair still provide some great answers about work, creative collaboration and pursuing your calling.

PIFF 2021: The In-Between – Q&A w/ Mindy Bledsoe

A Q&A with the co-writer, director and star (alongside multiple other hyphenates) of road trip dramedy The In-Between, Mindy Bledsoe, which was held as part of the 2021 Paris International Film Festival.

Over the course of the interview we talk about making a road trip movie with a crew of four, taking influence from life and illness and adding humour, and finding the right road trip soundtrack.

If it seems like I was mumbling and lacking any form of emotion in some of my questions it’s very likely because this was recorded at 2am my time and I was very wary of my neighbours and not wanting to wake them up (although there are one or two moments where I very clearly forget about this).

However, this was my first time doing an interview of this kind, for a festival/ commission; and looking back at it after a couple of years I’m quite happy with how it went. As I’ve said before, it’s all part of an ever-continuing learning curve – something which we slightly touch upon in regards to filmmaking and creativity in the interview.

PIFF 2021: The Race To Save The World – Q&A w/ Joe Gantz

A Q&A with director Joe Gantz about his climate activism documentary The Race To Save The World, held as part of the 2021 Paris International Film Festival.

Throughout the interview we cover pitching the documentary to those involved, the changing face of police and court responses to climate protests over the course of filming and remaining optimistic about the future and the push to fight the climate crisis.

There were some internet issues during the first half of this interview, but not enough to fully disturb Joe’s answers. Luckily, after a little while they die down and the rest of the conversation goes by largely uninterrupted.

Marty Supreme – Review

Cert – 15, Run-time – 2 hours 30 minutes, Director – Josh Safdie

Aspiring table tennis star Marty Mauser (Timothée Chalamet) is determined to achieve greatness, however in-between tournaments a series of poor decisions create growing problems for him and those he’s worked his way into the lives of.

A week or two before its release the marketing campaign for Marty Supreme seemed to switch from the new dramatic thriller from Josh Safdie to star Timothée Chalamet saying he deserves an Oscar for what he sees as the best performance of a consistently top-form career. Perhaps some of the lead character’s behaviour remains in him – and was slightly present when he said he wants to be one of the greats when accepting his SAG award for A Complete Unknown earlier this year, a phrase which was wrongfully criticised as egotistical. Aspiring table tennis star Marty Mauser (Chalamet) – the Supreme of the title comes from the brand name of balls used in the sport – is a cocky and truly egotistical figure, determined of his own greatness and just needing the opportunity to show it to the world.

In some ways he’s blinded by both his own talent and where he believes he can get himself. Doing anything he can to get the money needed to get him from one tournament to the other, aiming to go from runner up to champion. However, in his bid to do so Marty crashes into people’s lives, often leaving them behind without a second thought, and creating a downward spiral for more than just himself.

Chalamet certainly gives a strong performance as the chaotic fireball charging through the various events that Josh Safdie and co-writer Ronald Bronstein have stitched together. Marty is a successfully unlikable character barrelling through relationships and desperate attempts to raise money and live the life he dreams of before he can afford it.

Key relationships are seen with former movie actress Kay Stone (Gwyneth Paltrow) who starts an affair with Marty as she prepares to return to acting with a hopefully careet boosting stage production. Meanwhile Marty tries to get her businessman husband (Kevin O’Leary – effectively playing himself) into table tennis events in the hope of raising funds for his trip to Tokyo.

Yet, the most emotional engagement is found in Odessa A’zion’s performance as Rachel, the downstairs neighbour of Marty who is also having an affair with him and becomes pregnant with his child, in an unexpected opening credits sequence, even from one of the minds behind the colonoscopy opening of Uncut Gems. A’zion feels very sidelined during much of the film’s first half and while glimpsed a bit more in the second still doesn’t quite as present as she perhaps should be, or deserves to be with a grounded performance which almost steals the show from Chalamet who is firmly in almost every scene of the film.

It’s in a strand relating to a hotel disaster and a missing dog (owned by Abel Ferrara’s increasingly mob-like figure) that Rachel gradually starts to appear more. The sequences are fittingly chaotic in the ways in which they develop and come in and out of the overall set of events that make up the film in its not-entirely-narrative-driven state. At times the winding nature can feel a bit much, especially when what initially seems like a brief instance or one-or-two-moment idea sprawls out into a longer set of sequences. There’s still an engaging nature to them, and the film as a whole fills its two-and-a-half hour run-time rather well. Not quite building up a sense of frequent tension – although there’s something thrilling about the fierceness of the table tennis matches and how quickly things move around during them.

Safdie and Bronstein have formed a film that’s as chaotic as its lead character, but not as unlikable. There’s an engaging nature to his lack of thought, and near tunnel vision as to where he wants to be with his life and career, and just how immediately he wants that to be the case. And more so when the film properly links him to other characters, even if it is leading them in to his spiralling life in the desperate, often poorly thought and egotistical, pursuit of greatness. But, it’s easy to be caught up in that poor thought which has been clearly laid out, if getting slightly tangled, at each stage of production, as everything starts to crash down around Chalamet who crashes through it as long as he can.

While the lead character is successfully unlikable, how Chalamet leads him crashing through the occasionally tangled events, balanced by the supporting cast with an underused yet scene-stealing Odessa A’zion, pushes the frantic chaos on display in Marty Supreme as the pursuit of greatness becomes panicked determination.