Category: REVIEWS

In a world where people collect Pokémon to do battle, Tim Goodman (Justice Smith) comes across an intelligent talking Pikachu (Ryan Reynolds) who seeks to be a detective.

 Since 1996, Pokmémon has touched the hearts and minds of its rabid fan base. From video games to anime, trading cards to toys, this is a gargantuan franchise/ borderline religion that I have remained (mostly) ignorant of besides the general, notion of what a pocket monster is, and the phrase, “Gotta catch ‘em all”. I was reticent to cover Detective Pikachu for fear of sounding dismissive or simply not engaging with the subject matter on screen. Turns out, I needn’t had worried.

Detective Pikachu was a whole heap of fun. Director Rob Letterman and co. strike a fine balance that neither hand-holds newcomers, nor leaves them in the dark like other expansive, beloved fantasy worlds (I’m looking at you, Duncan Jones’ Warcraft). The city design is striking and feels lived-in, the Pokémon themselves look wonderfully realistic, with requisite hair, fluff, scales and flames being transposed to screen with a great deal of care and attention to detail.

Considering the franchise’s intrinsic links to the accompanying anime, it is surprising that this film doesn’t offer more fan-service with relation to the cartoon’s wealth of human characters. However, eschewing this connective tissue allows for a more streamlined, less slavishly-devoted plot. Justice Smith is solid as the lead, with a far more likeable character than he portrayed in Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom. Tim’s character arc may be a touch clichéd Smith’s performance allows for some nuance. Less can be said for Kathryn Newton, Ken Watanabe and Bill Nighy who are very one-note and little more than auto-piloting their way through Ryme City.

There is an odd disconnect in the fact that dear Ryan Reynolds voices Detective Pikachu (… it’s the titular role). Had he not spent two movies as Deadpool, his particular comedic cadence and rhythms would be an impactful delight. Sadly, there are a couple moments that just seem like Deadpool with training wheels on. In spite of this, there’s smirk-inducing humour slathered over most of the movie. I may not have laughed much but between the one-liners and the Pokémon themselves, there’s a lot to grin at.

With shades of Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Zootopia and Bumblebee, Detective Pikachu articulates a fully realised world, rich with creatures and craftsmanship that someone with even a cursory knowledge of Pokémon can enjoy. As a complete noob to the franchise I had frothy fun but am unsure as to how fans of this treasured gaggle of creatures and characters will feel upon leaving the theatre.

Pokémon: Detective Pikachu is out May 10^th

By Fergus Henderson. It is hard to say what Oliver Cane’s feature debut Eyes and Prize is actually about. Its story is kept entirely within the walls of an anonymous flat. Four contestants are locked inside it. They are watched from all angles by CCTV cameras, and believe themselves to be in a reality show competition. It soon becomes apparent that they have been fooled, and are now imprisoned by a mysterious figure. We and their sinister overseer watch as they descend into panic and terror.

It would be easy to imagine the morality tale Cane could have wrung out of such a premise. Four people chasing fame and exposure, willing to sacrifice privacy and dignity in order to achieve it. This might have washed a few decades earlier, when angry filmmakers made self-important value judgements on things they didn’t understand. Times have changed.

We are all aware of reality shows, and no matter how lurid and cruel they might still be, they are generally highly monitored affairs with mental health experts on set. Television has evolved a system of ethics around an entertainment that was once considered scandalous. The characters in Eyes and Prize are aware of this. Cane is aware of this.

Tellingly it is the oldest contestant Ron (played with jocular confidence by Gerard McDermott) who has the most faith in the glaringly absent social contract of their captivity. Fresh faced Marcus (Jackson Bews) and Abbi (Alanna Flynn) are quicker to realise the gravity of their situation.

Eyes and Prize unfolds as more of a formally experimental horror film than a social commentary. The film alternately tells its story in extreme long takes and rapid, aggressive edits. This bold, odd stylistic approach clues us in to the film’s more abstract ambitions. It is here that things become unclear.

At its heart, this is a violently ugly, ghoulish film, about humanity reduced to fear and helplessness. It is the kind of dispiriting experience that makes you exclaim in dismay as it ramps up its cruelty. The cast perform the awkwardly forced familiarity of reality show contestants with canny precision, balancing self-deception with mounting paranoia. Brief hints as to their motivations and general humanity surface in these moments. But beyond this well-rehearsed ensemble dynamic, what is the film saying?

There are shades of the archly clinical camera work of Antonio Campos’ Afterschool. Cane, however, keeps us much closer to the characters. The camera is never surrogate for the viewer. We are never implicated in this cruel voyeurism. 

Occasionally we dive into computer screens as the contestant’s social media is hacked by their captor. Is Cane suggesting that our lives have been rendered ephemeral and mutable thanks to our screentime? Or that depravity springs from our entertainment? Certainly the cruelty of reality TV allows them to plausibly deny their situation for longer than it should. Cane seems to hint at these ideas, but instead of going deeper he traps us within the confines of an ambient horror film in which feral, traumatised people travel towards certain doom.

Eyes and Prize frames its characters as desperate figures that have been dropped into a void in which they must reckon with themselves. And yet they have every reason to be terrified. Their only crime was believing the website that advertised the ‘show’. So the film does not seem to truly cast judgement on these poor people, but as it reaches its climax it becomes so punishing that it starts to feel like a Hostel film as hallucinated by Pasolini or Bunuel. It also never reveals the motives of its villain, a frustrating decision that reinforces a more abstract reading.

Oliver Cane and his admirably brave cast have made a film that tells its story in a totally unique way, full of left-field decisions that hit hard. It reveals itself to be a horror film of singular vision, and a truly dark one at that. There really aren’t many filmmakers out there that make the weird choices that Cane does. If he can focus himself on a clearer end-goal next time around I believe he will produce a truly great film.

A widowed mother Anna (Linda Cardellini) and her children are marked by The Weeping Woman, La Llorona. A cursed spirit who lurks the earth, in search of children to claim for her own.

Following on from two Conjuring’s, two Annabelle’s and a Nun, The Curse of La Llarona is the latest period-set supernatural horror from James Wan’s insanely (financially) successful The Conjuring franchise. Tapping directly into the same tone as the Ouija’s, Sinister’s and Insidous movies, La Llorona is a technically adept horror movie with more-than-passable performances but unfortunately, the plot and dialogue are clichéd, bland and predictable.

At a measured 93 minutes, director Michael Chaves knows not to outstay his welcome, and for that you can be thankful. But from the establishing tracking shot through the Tate-Garcia household you’ll already know every plot beat that will follow.

This franchise is a super old-fashioned carnival ghost train with modern adornments. You set them in the 50’s, 60’s or 70’s (because nothing is scarier to a teen audience than being without a mobile phone and internet) carting the audience on a rail through a series of quiet, quiet, BOO! moments, until they reach the other side safely. Besides the calculated, startling jumps there is nothing in The Curse of La Llorona to get under the skin. But to some, it’s a fun ride that elevates the heart rate and teaches you not to let your guard down in during tranquil moments.

There are some bright spots in La Llorona. Linda Cardellini, Raymond Cruz, Sean Patrick Thomas and Patricia Velásquez do solid work with underwritten roles. The two child actors, Raymond Christou and Jaynee-Lynn Kinchen, are especially good at reacting to things that go bump in the night. La Llarona had the opportunity to offer something new to the franchise, as the 1970’s nuclear family has been hit by the untimely death of a husband and father, who was not only a police officer, but also a religious man. This narrative thread goes boldly nowhere and Sean Patrick Thomas’ character (as the partner of the deceased husband) is unduly side-lined.

If you’re a fan of The Conjuring Universe then The Curse of La Llorona will tick all your franchise boxes, with a strained link to the Annabelle movies that might work for you. If these movies are not your bag, then there’s nothing here that’ll sway that opinion. Hell… if you love the franchise but didn’t end up enjoying La Llorona, not to worry, there’s Annabelle Comes Home (pretty sure this is a Lassie spin-off), and The Conjuring 3 hitting cinemas in the next 18 months.

The Curse Of La Llorona is released on May 3rd in the UK

Dealing with life is difficult. It’s even more difficult when your childhood and upbringing are less than perfect. But what do you do if someone you love just can’t take it anymore?

Just Say Goodbye is a powerful and heartfelt story about suicide and friendship. Sarah (Katerina Eichenberger), with a future in front of her and excited for a summer holiday is forced to deal with the impending suicide of her best friend Jesse (Max MacKenzie) after he reveals he plans to take his life.

Low budget from the first frame, and with no signs of getting better, Just Say Goodbye is true indie. The cameras shake, the sound is up and down, and the secondary characters feel like they’re in a panto. Yet, Just Say Goodbye astounded me. Five minutes in I was invested, five minutes in and Sarah was the greatest human being Id ever met.

This triumph is in equal parts due to the honest and believable script writing, the well thought out cinematography, despite the budgetary and clear equipment restrictions, but also the terrific performances by the main cast. Eichenberger as Sarah created such a real portrayal of a friend in trouble,that anyone going through these sort of moments could relate.

MacKenzie as Jesse blew me away with a sense of sarcastic melancholy whilst William Galatis who played his father showed a character arc unlike any other. Director Matt Walting has given Just Say Goodbye a touch of Larry Clark‘s Kids, but with perhaps a teensy more hope than that particularly depressing portrayal of real life teens.

Ending montages, and (word for talking on your own) are not something I’m usually fond of unless they’re done right. The ones in Just Say Goodbye, though not perfect have a tint that I can’t ignore. Matt Walting, who directed Just Say Goodbye is one to watch. Although not as comedic or light as Edge of Seventeen, as teen flick as The Art of Getting By it does bear a resemblance to its higher production indie cousins.

Just Say Goodbye has many touches of the art of getting by, though it arguably lacks a more relatable and lighter side. My main criticism could be this lack of any potential joy, or one that lasts longer than ten minutes, but maybe that’s why it has so much impact. It doesn’t sugarcoat suicide in anyway, not does it have the melo-drama and gossip girl nature that came along with the Netflix series 13 or whatever.

Tearful, is how I’d describe Just Say Goodbye in one word, I would only add that Just Say Goodbye deserves and needs a wider release.