Release Date – 25th November 2022, Cert – 15, Run-time – 2 hours 8 minutes, Director – Maria Schrader

The story of the New York Times investigation which launched the #MeToo campaign and uncovered decades of sexual abuse and misconduct from Harvey Weinstein and other Hollywood figures.

For a film that follows an investigation into historical cases of sexual abuse and misconduct She Said rarely uses flashbacks or recreations. Instead we sit with those scarred and affected – in one case Ashley Judd plays herself – as they retell their traumas to New York Times journalists Megan Twohey (Carey Mulligan) and Jodi Kantor (Zoe Kazan). While keeping your interest in these interview sequences through the dialogue and performances there are occasional glimpses of static shots of the settings in which the discussed events took place. Objects and clothing are sometimes strewn across the floor, the shots could be seen as a crime scene – they are a crime scene. Occasionally a sound may drift in such as a shower running, or the subtle notes of Nicholas Britell’s excellent score. As the camera stays static it enhances the feeling of being stuck in that moment, unable to leave as the dialogue adds to the discomfort being felt.

There’s reluctance from some to speak about their experiences, while others don’t want to go on the record knowing what the man their accusing is capable of. Hollywood titan Harvey Weinstein, the man who could make, and in some cases broke, their hopes and careers. The Times is investigating decades of abuse from Weinstein, and uncovering more across Hollywood, as the film covers the research and writing of the article from which the #MeToo campaign sprung. Throughout the effect that Weinstein has had on the women interviewed lingers as journalists face increasing threats from him and his team in relation to the supposed-to-be-secretive article. We don’t see his face, we rarely hear his voice. But as it crackles over speakerphone through the voice of Mike Houston you can’t help but feel a sense of fear and tension in those moments.

While we know of where the piece ends up and the effect of it the film isn’t about that. It’s about what was went through to write the piece, not just for the journalists but for those who suffered for it to have to be uncovered in the first place. The film allows the words of Rebecca Lenkiewicz’s screenplay (adapted from Kantor, Twohey and Rebecca Corbett’s (played here by Patricia Clarkson) book of the same name) to speak for themselves. Delivered well by a strong ensemble cast – led by Kazan, with a more held back, ‘formal’ performance, and Mulligan, with the more visible, ‘performance’ style take, both of whom are very good in their roles – things flow well and keep you engaged throughout.

You’re caught up in the investigation and the determination of the team that are trying to put together this article against all adversities, including rival publications potentially tackling similar stories. There’s a strong source of interest throughout the conversations, discussions, reveals and more that line the course of the narrative all building up to a rather brilliant ending point. One which leaves you sat back in silence, although different to those of stunned fear and shock which arise at certain points throughout the film – including when a member of the writing staff receives a severely unsettling dead-pan death threat from a stranger over the phone.

Maria Schrader’s direction helps to also keep the pace up and things moving along. Never causing things to feel rushed while never drawing moments out or making an interview feel like a standard back-and-forth. There’s plenty within the additions to certain scenes, and Lenkiewicz’s screenplay to avoid all of this and simply lead to a more engaging film. One which stirs up emotions and responses to what is witnessed and heard about. Discomfort and tension are firmly rooted in certain moments as the performances help to further bring you in to each moment of research which often feels for the central figures involved as if it’s going nowhere or could have the plug pulled at any second for one reason or another.

She Said deals with a lot and handles it all well thanks to the fact that it keeps its key points at the centre and moves with them consistently. Knowing what needs to be said and done to get to that excellent final shot. All within a film where part of the power comes through the fact that it acknowledges, and points out, that there is a lot that still needs to be done; and can be done, to stop and tackle sexual abuse. Subtly going well beyond its point of communal strength and the tagline question of “will you go on the record?” to create a strong, emotionally engaging piece of work with a fine flow and confidence.

She Said does a lot within the well-flowing build up to its brilliant final shot. The natural power of Rebecca Lenkiewicz’s screenplay is lifted by the central performances and direction which allow for moments to speak for themselves without feeling bland or repetitive. A very well told story with plenty of emotional engagement and effects.

Release Date – 25th November 2022, Cert – PG, Run-time – 1 hour 57 minutes, Director – Matthew Warchus

After being constantly belittled and undermined by the controlling adults in her life schoolgirl Matilda (Alisha Weir) puts her mind, imagination and storytelling abilities towards getting revenge.

While having not seen the stage version of Matilda The Musical it seems apparent from watching the film adaptation that there are plenty of moments designed to be enjoyed live with an audience, particularly when it comes to potential stagecraft and effects. There’s a fair deal of CGI throughout the film as we explore the imagination and potential telekinetic powers of the titular figure (Alisha Weir), particularly increasing in the third act and the confrontations that it produces. Yet, the film certainly doesn’t feel like it could easily be played out on a stage, not just because of the various long shots of hundreds of bodies dancing in a courtyard or running through the school corridors.

We open straight into a big musical number. Loud, proud, bright and slightly camp the world is coloured with glaring lights and tones as we’re told just how much of a joy life, particularly new life, is – contrasting greatly to the underwhelmed, to say the least, response of Andrea Riseborough’s Mrs Wormwood. Jump forward a couple of years and Mrs Wormwood, alongside her husband (Stephen Graham) are still bringing up their daughter, but often neglecting her to the attic, lined with a handful of books – not including those which she borrows from the travelling library run by Sindhu Vee’s Mrs Phelps who thinks the world of the young girl so fascinated with reading.

For musical sceptics it’s unlikely that these opening stages are going to turn minds as a lot emerges from the scream at great volume with little response and connection. Yet, while the first impressions may not be the greatest, you do start to prepare for a very long, slightly over the top two hours, things begin to somewhat settle down as Matilda is sent to Crunchem Hall. A notoriously strict school led by former hammer throwing champion Miss Trunchbull (Emma Thompson). A rather contrasting role to her earlier stellar performance in this year’s Good Luck To You, Leo Grande, Thompson is clearly having a great time playing up the nasty villain role.

With her belief that all children are maggots there’s a very traditional storybook villain to Thompson’s performance which adds to the film as a whole. With the way that certain elements come across, largely the way that some of the adults in Matilda’s life treat and talk down to her and other kids, there seems to be a fair deal that specifically speaks to younger audiences. It’s largely in certain interactions and pieces of dialogue where the lines feel as if they could have come directly from the mind of a child – when asked if she’d like to hear about her daughter’s first day at school Riseborough’s character throws away the line “yuck, I’d rather eat vegetables”. Such interactions inspire Matilda to leap further into sprawling stories of her own creation, leading her to take action after seeing the punishment other kids face for doing very little to upset the headteacher of the school – although we largely only hear rumours of the dreaded ‘Chokey’.

Of course, aside from the dives into fiction and storytelling there are plenty of songs to burst into – this is Matilda The Musical after all. Largely the film has been sold on its earworms such as When I Grow Up. As mentioned, I haven’t seen the stage musical version but I had heard this particularly track a number of times. There’s an emotional punch to it as the adult chorus joins in with the central children’s voices, something which doesn’t quite come into play here until a brief moment part way through, seeming to take something away from the song a bit. That is until Lashana Lynch’s Miss Honey takes to the stage. This is yet another role where Lynch proves that she can pretty much do anything. A warm and kind performance you simply wish that you could see more of her throughout the film, particularly in the first half, so you can see more of the kindness and belief she demonstrates towards her new student Matilda.

The musical numbers certainly have a specific style to them and there are a number which are enjoyable in the moment and simply help to bring you further into the tall, stone walls of Crunchem Hall, perhaps where the best elements of the film occur. There’s a cartoon-like nature to some of the sequences (not the child abuse, which even after various iterations of this story you forget how much there is) which largely revolves around the clear villains. Further pushing the childlike nature and perspective that the film lightly carries throughout a number of its events and sequences. Narratively it certainly gets a lot into two hours, meaning that certain elements don’t always get as much time to shine or develop as they might perhaps need or want – again, Matilda’s relationship with Miss Honey. But, as a whole with what you do see there’s plenty to enjoy and get caught up with once you’ve settled into the film, and the film itself has settled down somewhat.

With a cast who are clearly having a good time camping it up – particularly Thompson relishing lines such as “to teach the child we must first break the child”, alongside fellow antagonists Riseborough and Graham – there’s eventually quite a bit to engage and enjoy within Matilda The Musical. There may be some bumps along the way within the busy course of the film, but thanks to the fast energy of some of the musical numbers, and the child’s mind nature that’s brought to certain characters and instances, it’s easy to remain caught up in it and engaged. Get past the first 20 or so minutes and there’s quite a bit to like about the way some of these familiar events are presented. Bruce Bogtrotter (Charlie Hodson-Prior) eating a multi-layered chocolate cake slathered in icing may start out like a trial but as the number picks up and the crowd of kids encourage him there’s something rather enjoyable about the proceedings.

Things may take a bit of time to calm down before you can properly ease into them, but once they do there’s a more controlled energy to the busy course of Matilda The Musical. Thompson steals the show while the supporting cast, especially Lynch, put in good efforts. The road may be bumpy, but there’s plenty to engage and enjoy throughout.

Release Date – 23rd November 2022, Cert – 18, Run-time – 2 hours 11 minutes, Director – Luca Guadagnino

With the help of fellow ‘eater’ Lee (Timothée Chalamet), Maren (Taylor Russell) tries to navigate a newly opened world to her whilst trying to fight cannibalistic impulses, all while being chased down by other eaters.

From its opening stages Bones And All tries to blend and subvert genres. Teenager Maren (Taylor Russell) sneaks out late at night to attend a sleepover with some school friends. While she needs to be back before morning so that her dad (André Holland) doesn’t find out she went the moment dwells on the peaceful evening between the girls. As they try on nail polish and show each other how it looks it feels like an almost romantic connection is being built between Maren and one particular friend things take a quick swerve as the protagonist takes swoon-like bite into her friend’s finger. As screams erupt she escapes running home to her father who, it turns out, must once again escape with her to a new town.

It’s something he’s tired of doing and therefore soon leaves a tape explaining to his daughter that she’s going to have to fend for herself and navigate the world, and her cannibalistic impulses, alone. However, it’s not long until she meets fellow ‘eater’ Lee (Timothée Chalamet), agreeing to take her in to help her take control of her want to eat, whilst they also try to outrun other eaters – especially Mark Rylance’s Sully; who promises Maren, who has a sense of smell almost as good as his for finding food, that “life’s not dully with Sully”.

It’s lines like this, a number of which are delivered by Rylance, that feel generally silly and yet don’t quite enter humorous territory. As a whole the film struggles tonally due to its blending of genres. Amongst its road trip course, where a handful of moments and interactions don’t really feel as if they lead anywhere, it feels neither restrained or outlandish enough to properly be comedic or engagingly dramatic. The ultimate result is something quite boring as the characters run into various personal circumstances which simply end up feeling disjointed.

Such moments largely revolve around Maren and the potential origins of her want to eat people. While she tries to stop herself from doing so, especially to avoid killing innocent people, her cravings increase – leading Lee to tell her “you either eat, off yourself, or lock yourself up”. Such moments begin to become dramatically interesting, however the tonal jumble throughout the film and the fact that such moments just feel, as mentioned, disjointed from the rest of the film. Add to that the levels of disengagement which have built up to this and its simply difficult to get back into the film as it once again starts to knock things that it builds up down.

Much like the tones and genres don’t always mix it simply feels as if the personal dramas and cannibalism themes never quite work together, even though often they’re the same thing – or at least should be. The film feels split and divided as to what it wants to be which creates an increasingly jumbled feeling. As the characters drive around various small towns across the US while their journey goes from point to point the narrative with its various focuses and beats jumps back and forth with little to actually grab you and bring you in. Trying to veil things under a coming-of-age feel doesn’t do enough to disguise the clashes between horror, drama, potential comedic beats, thriller and more. Things simply never feel fully tacked down leading to them getting away from the film.

It’s all a shame as there’s a lot of potential for a film with these stylings, even within the simple realms of a coming-of-age cannibal film (there’s not a great deal here in comparison to Julia Ducournau’s Raw – so thoughts of that leave the mind relatively quickly, if they’re there at all). While some moments and ideas may have promise and hints of interest they eventually add to the disjointed and disengaging feel of the film which ultimately leaves you bored with its drawn out set of events and sets of interactions between characters.

While some dialogue may come across as quite silly there’s little humour within Bones And All which feels neither restrained or outlandish enough to properly lean into drama, comedy, or any other genre it tries to tackle. In the end the various ideas, tones and genres fail to come together, leading to a boring, disjointed feel.

Release Date – 25th November 2022, Cert – PG, Run-time – 1 hour 57 minutes, Directors – Guillermo del Toro, Mark Gustafson

After the death of his own son (Gregory Mann), carpenter Geppetto (David Bradley) carves a wooden boy (Mann) who is miraculously brought to life in an immortal wooden body.

It goes without saying that Guillermo del Toro was going to bring something different to the much-adapted Pinocchio story. Yet, there’s still a sense of surprise within the opening stages of his take (co-written with Patrick McHale and co-directed with Mark Gustafson) as we see an elderly yet joy-filled Geppetto (David Bradley) spending a life with two loves. That for carpentry, he’s renowned in the town and is working on a new statue of Jesus on the cross for the church, which is only surpassed by that for his young son, Carlo (Gregory Mann). He sings about his love for his son and we see the pair gleefully spending time together amongst getting on with various pieces of work.

However, all of this is brought to a sudden halt during a pre-World War II bombing of the church which takes away the sparks of Geppetto’s life. He becomes isolated and turns away from everything around him as we see him carve a wooden boy not out of tearful emotion, but a drunken, rage-filled grief. The scene plays out like a creation of Frankenstein’s monster as the bereaved father’s intense anger fuels the moment with a sense of colliding loss and desperation. All leading to a brought-to-life pine child (also Mann) not learning to be honest, pure and true (although that’s certainly on the agenda when it comes to his not-as-present-as-you-may-think cricket conscience Sebastian (Ewan McGregor – seeming to relish the chance to (almost) belt out another musical number)) but instead navigating the course of lessons in mortality.

When Pinocchio ‘passes away’ he finds himself confronted by a Wood Sprite played by Tilda Swinton before being returned to the world of the living. Each time his desperation to return appears to increase as lessons of life and death increase. Each time the character also nears becoming slightly less annoying. Certainly as we’re first introduced to him and he’s exploring everything around him in Geppetto’s workshop for the first time there’s a very excitable and chaotic nature to the character – adding to Geppetto’s Frankenstein-like response when being greeted by the impossible ‘creature’ first thing in the morning. One which may prove a bit much for some viewers. However, there’s still plenty to enjoy the film.

It’s far from an overall hyperactive affair as, as you would expect, del Toro and co lean into the darker elements of a story such as this. It may come as a surprise that he doesn’t tackle Pleasure Island (a sequence which many may have been looking forward to seeing being tackled through his lens) but the film is set against the backdrop of rising fascism in Italy. Mussolini (Tom Kenny) appears not just on an increasing amount of walls and posters in the background of scenes but as a very short – and therefore consistently amusing when on screen – figure who claims to strongly “like-a puppets”. However, the threat of his rising regime is shown more and more throughout the film alongside Pinocchio’s exploration of the world and ways of life around him.

There’s an undeniable darkness to the film, again, you’d expect it with del Toro’s influence amongst the helm. He’s stated that while it’s not for kids they can watch it as long as adults are prepared to have certain conversations, particularly surrounding ideas of death, afterwards. It’s a point which has been particularly thought about within the course of the film and the directions that it goes. Perhaps such themes are perfectly summed up in the screenplay’s own words, “what happens happens and then we are gone”. The film’s overall treatment leaning towards its characters trying to make what happens reach the side of good through the likes of dedication towards family, friends and those around them.

It makes for something interesting and undeniably unique for a Pinocchio film, all enhanced through the strong visuals of the excellent stop-motion animation (del Toro has made sure to point out how the animators are credited equal to the starry voice acting cast of the film, alongside taking some of the puppets, particularly Pinocchio, on the festival and premier circuit). Increasing the fantastical elements such as Pinocchio’s interactions with the Wood Sprite and the towering darkness which begins to sprawl during certain sequences displaying the fascist threat confronting Italy at the time the film is set. It simply allows for further detail and establishing of tone in regards to some of the scenes and themes which run throughout the film. All while still allowing for the theatricality of some of the musical numbers, largely in terms of sound, to come through. Amongst all the stylings of themes and tones throughout the film there’s plenty to be engaged by and enjoy in this darker take of Pinocchio which is successfully influenced by the classic story.

It may take a bit of time to get used to the character of Pinocchio himself, but there’s still plenty to enjoy within the visual and tonal styles of this particular interpretation, which gets philosophically darker alongside the rising threat of the settings.

Release Date – 23rd November 2022, Cert – 12, Run-time – 2 hours 20 minutes, Director – Rian Johnson

Detective Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig) finds himself mysteriously invited to a billionaire’s (Edward Norton) private island where it seems each of the wealthy and successful guests are hiding their own secrets.

In writer-director Rian Johnson’s hit murder-mystery Knives Out it was mentioned that victim Harlan Thrombey “practically lives in a Clue[do] board”. The film with its gleeful twists and turns played around with this idea and the various hidden doors and passageways that could be used by the murderer. In much the same way follow up Glass Onion sees Johnson having just as much fun scheming with puzzles, mind games and riddles. We’re introduced to our potential suspects as they sit on a phone call together trying to solve a box filled with puzzles sent to them by their billionaire friend, Miles (Edward Norton). Inside is an invitation to his private island just off the coast of Greece where he plans to hold an annual gathering between friends. Also present is Daniel Craig’s well-spoken, strongly-accented detective Benoit Blanc. Cue the unfolding mysteries and dramas.

We see Blanc interacting with the various wealthy and successful faces present on the island – whether that be through their role as a content creator/ influencer (Dave Bautista) or in politics (Kathryn Hahn) – gradually realising that it seems that each figure may very well be hiding their own secrets. It’s not difficult to engage with Blanc as a character. He’s an even more entertaining, not to mention devious, figure this time around; helped by the fact that Craig, Johnson and the film as a whole lean much more into the comedy this time around.

The mystery is still front and centre – you’re guessing from the start, yet held in fascination as you see each potential suspect interact and converse before anything actually happens, the film playfully meddling with this information in mind – but the laughs certainly feel boosted. There’s a flavour that this could be a, very successful, out and out comedy thanks to the humour that it presents, not just from Craig but the highly enjoyable cast as a whole. Much like the first film you can tell the cast are all having a great time bringing to life the range of characters that are on display and relishing constructing the twists and turns of this particular narrative.

Part of the fun comes in the tension that arises during a handful of sequences. Of course as the mystery deepens and certain figures find themselves threatened things become heated, particularly when you think you may know who the culprit is before the film jumps backwards for every character. It’s all part of the fun as over time you find yourself leaning into the screen in fascination and anticipation for where things are going to go next, and just how the central detective’s mind is working. Particularly when we’re first introduced to him craving for a new challenge whilst bored during the pandemic.

Like the first Knives Out twisted standard murder-mystery rules by still having us guessing even after showing us the events leading up to the murder Glass Onion equally plays around and prods at the genre. It makes use of the knowledge that the audience – who are as integral to the film as the characters and events – will be trying to guess along, themselves playing detective alongside the great Benoit Blanc. Referencing this in subtle ways and further displaying the immense effort that has gone into the screenplay. Johnson’s writing and directing are overwhelmingly sharp as you can see his efforts shine as much as anything else in the film through the fast-flowing 140 minute run-time.

Amongst the highly effective humour Glass Onion once again poses a tense, thrilling and especially fun murder-mystery that acknowledges the audience participation and experience which can heighten the overall effects of a film such as this. Fitting as Glass Onion is best viewed with an audience just as much for the collective intrigue as the loud gasps at both the reveals and fun appearances throughout (none of which overwhelm or distract from the main course of the the feature). It’s all part of the fun there is to be had within another hit murder-mystery from Rian Johnson who proves himself a rather masterful mystery carver in terms of both plot and characters, boosted by another successful cast. It’s a brilliant, twisting puzzle.

Amongst the various laughs created by the finely-tuned characters there’s plenty of tension and fascination within the core mystery of Glass Onion which is constructed around the audience’s fascination and want to play along. Another cleverly layered and constructed mystery from Rian Johnson and a stellar cast.