It’s 1975, and the music is blazing, and the dunes and rolling sea of Cape Cod do wonders for Tony. Fortunately, the humour and the drama stay engrossing despite the suppressed stakes.
With Tony, director and co-writer Matt Johnson—with an unassuming resume of sci-fi and comedies behind him— cooks up something rather lovely: a focused coming-of-age story, or rather a Bildungsroman, despite being an entrée serving up a time of life we all remember with a little trepidation.
Spider-Man: Brand New Day has the twists, the action, the romance and the welling up. It’s a whole-package Spider-Man film, determined to be more than just a step up. This is a big swing to a new level of storytelling for the web-slinger and probably the superhero’s finest hour on screen. Its rival is unsurprisingly 2004’s Spider-Man 2, which, uncoincidentally, hits on similar themes.
Brand New Day, however, sets a new bar for Marvel telling self-contained comic book stories in an interconnected universe. This could be the foundation stone on Marvel’s new quest for quality, and all it took was the streets.
Christopher Nolan takes a foundational text of Western culture and turns it up to ἕνδεκα. As a unification of his life’s work to date, who can tell how the man who turned a science biopic into a blockbuster will follow up a Greek poem that promises to break open the box office?
But forget the future, The Odyssey represents a very real now. It will shape culture in 2026, and maybe even beyond. It’s not perfect, gods no—that’s very much the point—but it’s breathtakingly impressive, and its waves will be felt for years.
Supergirl is a bit of a gamble, there’s no doubt—and a calculated move away from the bright Earth of Superman to an uncertain galaxy. Gunn and Safran are playing a long game to shape their connected universe just right, but that’s fine when they work out through layered pieces like this.
It may be grimy, but Supergirl has the jokes, action, universal outlook and cape that should carry through to audiences. Comic book films should be constantly asserting and reasserting the nature of heroism, and in Milly Alcock, the genre has a new icon.
Masters of the Universe is two things: a huge, entertaining load of toy-line inspired fun and a colossal, irresistible folly with an awkward message.
Brilliantly cast, wittily written, if anything, it feels a bit small, especially in the third act’s CGI collapse. It’s phenomenal how much Amazon sunk into this, knowing that the audience is limited to a few hundred thousand 40-50-somethings, but as nostalgic 1980s fun at the cinema goes, it’s hard to beat.
Doing what everyone expects is always going to be slightly disappointing. With The Mandalorian and Grogu, it feels like the consolidated bigwigs at Lucasfilm, Favreau and Filoni, are just tightening the purse strings on a bag of gold.
Just by bringing these characters and the wider franchise back to the screen while serving up moments like Sigourney Weaver in an X-Wing, redeeming the Hutts, and continuing the Rise of Grogu without mentioning the Force, it’s a perfectly good time at the flicks. That’s good enough to make next year’s 50th anniversary and the pivotal release of Star Wars: Starfighter a time of new hope.
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A well put-together and very funny film, and a space epic. This is the kind of good time people want saving the world.
It feels like a sensible 21st-century update to Armageddon, with a sensible and delicately balanced environmental theme. While it tips just tip a bit too much into sentimentality and away from the deadpan, it absolutely proves that Ryan Gosling is more than just a Ken—he can absolutely hold a big-budget film through the atmospheric pressure of big box office. It all bodes well for a galaxy far, far away.
A well put-together and very funny film, and a space epic. This is the kind of good time people want saving the world.
It feels like a sensible 21st-century update to Armageddon, with a sensible and delicately balanced environmental theme. While it tips just tip a bit too much into sentimentality and away from the deadpan, it absolutely proves that Ryan Gosling is more than just a Ken—he can absolutely hold a big-budget film through the atmospheric pressure of big box office. It all bodes well for a galaxy far, far away.
The sheer range of influence and ideas chopped into the easy, if epic, drawl of The Secret Agent should make it unwieldy. Through the murky subject and often the bright colours and oversaturation, Mendonça Filho creates a superbly paced crime but mostly human epic that manages to both undulate and build, not least thanks to Moura’s stunning performance.
A superb and intelligent thriller that will hopefully further the influence of Brazilian cinema and its scintillating trips into the country’s past.
A meta-mash-up and love letter, The Bride! is an extraordinary film and an astonishing achievement. But like so many Frankenstein creations, it doesn’t fully grasp its ambition.
There is so much to see on screen, but while it’s barely horror, musical or sci-fi, all those genres prop up a stylised 1930’s crime tale. For many, that means a film and a message that will fall through the gaps. Powered by Buckley’s extraordinary performance, it could have been more of everything—a scream that echoed through all of film.
How to Make a Killing falls really awkwardly between dark and comedy. Where it tries to be a tragedy, it misses the mark. As a comedy and doesn’t seem too interested in satirising its subject to any depth.
It’s hard to believe this was a blacklist script. It’s harder to believe that the essential qualities of Kind Hearts and Coronets were so squandered. It’s shallow and charmless compared to its inspiration, and that’s a great shame considering the hot young hopes it flattens out. How to Make a Killing definitely isn’t the star vehicle Glen Powell needs right now.
Sentimental Value is a beautiful journey through time and family, with all the sticky, dark, and horrible aspects of life along the way.
Joachim Trier spins a delicate spider’s web of meta and artistic catharsis behind some outstanding performances, and it’s all the better for handing these strong, memorable roles to three women.
If you’re going to crush the characters of a classic novel down, you may as well embrace the melodrama. Fennell crafts a stunning, unreal, wholly watchable romantic tragedy, recast as a dark fairy tale. It’s a memorable, sex-obsessed vision, even if it’s more blunt innuendo than erotic romp.
This adaptation isn’t interested in the haunting implications of Brontë’s work—the ghosts, metaphorical or literal, are severed with nihilistic glee. This Wuthering Heights is all about id—and that raging, impetuous, ill-thought-out lust unsurprisingly ends up being more about death than love. It may not be utterly shallow, but it’s selective. It may look stunning, but it’s a quickie.
Sterling stuff to re-line the heart: the re-falling in love film. Smartly developed from John Bishop’s biography, Arnett has unlocked a story that allows him to throw off some of his comedic baggage and shine as a not-so-comic comic. With Dern sparkling opposite him, the pair are simply a joy to watch.
While he delivers a bizarrely enjoyable cameo, it’s Cooper’s further development as a director that may be the film’s main legacy. His skill in drawing out the characters and balancing the sheer reality of the situation is remarkable and almost easy to miss. Is This Thing On? will likely prove to be a jewel in his glittering career. No pressure.
Hamnet, a beautiful study of both happiness and grief, excels in so many ways. There’s no doubt it’s a cut above a standard adaptation, with so many parts spinning and humming to perfection, not least when the camera is trained on an iridescent Buckley.
With Zhao and Żal’s incredible techniques bringing a stagey story to screen in endlessly inventive and effective ways for the most part, it’s a great shame that it’s on the stage that it comes unstuck.
Wicked: For Good understands the assignment and more than justifies splitting the musical in half. It’s worth leaning into the tornado of turns and manipulation, where well-staged hints of the Wizard of Oz support a film that’s ultimately about friendship and hope. You should be stretching credulity with an Ozian movie like this, and it more than rewards with a digital, physical, musical oasis. Universal will surely be looking to see how they can extend the universe, and why not? Wicked has put the Oz back into Christmoz.
Wicked: For Good understands the assignment and more than justifies splitting the musical in half. It’s worth leaning into the tornado of turns and manipulation, where well-staged hints of the Wizard of Oz support a film that’s ultimately about friendship and hope. You should be stretching credulity with an Ozian movie like this, and it more than rewards with a digital, physical, musical oasis. Universal will surely be looking to see how they can extend the universe, and why not? Wicked has put the Oz back into Christmoz.
Wicked: For Good understands the assignment and more than justifies splitting the musical in half. It’s worth leaning into the tornado of turns and manipulation, where well-staged hints of the Wizard of Oz support a film that’s ultimately about friendship and hope. You should be stretching credulity with an Ozian movie like this, and it more than rewards with a digital, physical, musical oasis. Universal will surely be looking to see how they can extend the universe, and why not? Wicked has put the Oz back into Christmoz.
If you’re going to crush the characters of a classic novel down, you may as well embrace the melodrama. Fennell crafts a stunning, unreal, wholly watchable romantic tragedy, recast as a dark fairy tale. It’s a memorable, sex-obsessed vision, even if it’s more blunt innuendo than erotic romp.
This adaptation isn’t interested in the haunting implications of Brontë’s work—the ghosts, metaphorical or literal, are severed with nihilistic glee. This Wuthering Heights is all about id—and that raging, impetuous, ill-thought-out lust unsurprisingly ends up being more about death than love. It may not be utterly shallow, but it’s selective. It may look stunning, but it’s a quickie.
Guillermo Del Toro’s Frankenstein lets all guns blaze as it fuses the sensibilities of the Mexican visionary and Mary Shelley’s 1818 novel.
Third time’s the charm as Rian Johnson blends irreverence and a tinge of the supernatural into his Knives Out formula.
The DCU begins with a competent, universe-building adventure that’s big on heart but short on tangible threat. Bright and beautiful, Superman feels like stepping into comic books and is an excellent sign that Gunn can create a unified world that brings the best of the medium to the screen. The trade-off is the world-building that has scuppered many a shared universe early on and doesn’t give us enough of Big Blue.
Apple knocks it out of the circuit with an F1 biopic that gets the basics right.
One of the great feats and franchises of modern American cinema, Mission: Impossible prides itself on pushing boundaries. The Final Reckoning is too occupied with its complexity to provide a suitably tangible villain. Spending time with this team and Crusie’s most enduring hero is still a thrill, but they and the audience could have done with a bigger bang.
A roaring and sure-footed success that demonstrates that the MCU can still perform when it recognises its strengths. It’s a promising start to this saga’s home stretch, and combined with what appears in the long post-credit sequence, it’s a strong sign that Marvel can get its mojo back.
Sing Sing presents a world of greys in bright colours, where even in the staid prison rehearsal rooms, the fleck, dust and grain popping on the screen gives us one beautiful frame after another. What’s even more stunning is seeing Colman Domingo in a troupe that proves the RTA’s value.
Sing Sing presents a world of greys in bright colours, where even in the staid prison rehearsal rooms, the fleck, dust and grain popping on the screen gives us one beautiful frame after another. What’s even more stunning is seeing Colman Domingo in a troupe that proves the RTA’s value.
Sing Sing presents a world of greys in bright colours, where even in the staid prison rehearsal rooms, the fleck, dust and grain popping on the screen gives us one beautiful frame after another. What’s even more stunning is seeing Colman Domingo in a troupe that proves the RTA’s value.
Fight or Flight is a popcorn-powered trip back to 90s action movies. Hartnett could have a new franchise on his hands as he hands in another likeable character with a darker side. While it’s not John Wick, it is dedicated to having a good time punching us all in the head. Be prepared to be hit repeatedly, and be thankful you’re not Lucas Reyes.
The Brutalist’s title works on so many levels they are likely to be peeled back for decades. It’s divided like its buildings, and characters, but makes an incredibly satisfying whole, and a sweeping tribute to an age long gone, as much as a comment on the present and the future.
Heart-wrenching but hopeful, I’m Still Here is an asymmetrical film that defies convention to keep the focus on the family at its heart. Compellingly off-kilter, it’s a master class in inviting an audience into a family and a country’s trauma while keeping us a crucial arm’s length of objectivity away.
The Substance is a sickening and vivid update of horror staples with added resonance for the 21st century. The film’s title refers to the central MacGuffin as much as the film itself. But while it’s likely to repel audiences as much as it attracts, it’s timeless, timely, and carries its strong message with confidence. The Ozempic craze was made for it.
The twists and end destination for the central pair are well sign-posted, but it’s all about a journey, and Teller and Taylor-Joy are hugely watchable companions. But The Gorge gleefully draws on so many influences, including films like Annihilation to Inception, while not hitting their heights, that the result can’t help but feel a little hollow by comparison.
Like the Red Hulk popcorn container unleashed with film, Brave New World takes up a lot of shelf space but is pretty hollow. Avid fans may enjoy seeing a couple of big characters finally make it to the screen, but given its determination to tie up some hanging MCU strands, Brave New World is disappointingly weak. It struggles as a thriller, can’t capitalise on the satirical timing of its release in the first month of a certain new POTUS, and doesn’t stretch the franchise’s action credentials.
Emilia Pérez lashes and mashes cinematic and theatrical influences, revelling in its groundbreaking awkwardness to the point that its impressive run during Awards season feels like a smash and grab. Critics may scoff, awards may fawn, audiences may well be bemused, but cinema should be glad Emilia Pérez exists.
An emotional and thought-provoking slice of cinema, Nickel Boys showcases media as much as it holds it to account. After this powerful step into a new realm, all eyes will be on RaMell Ross’s next move. The subject is horrific, but the delivery is devastating.
A beautifully realised film that’s hard to compare with anything else. Anora brings a lot of laughs but refuses to hand up easy answers. It pays back the more you invest in the characters, but mostly, keep an eye out for Mikey Madison, who chose a helluva role to arrive at Hollywood’s top table.
Conclave is dominated by masterful performances and a humdinger (if too tidy) pay-off. An Exorcist-level film advertisement for the institution, it excels at portraying the broad Catholic Church, thanks to perfectly pitched performances and Berger’s continued strides as one of European cinema’s leading explorers of morality.
Universal has chucked everything in Oz at this adaptation, and it’s paid off. It’s dripping with the fantastical splendour it needs, nodding to the stage when it can and soaring into setpieces that demand a big screen. On the whole, the cast has great chemistry, with plenty of room to sink into their fantastical characters as the musical’s first half accelerates to a show-stopping ending. Deftly directed and intensely choreographed, Wicked lives up to the hype and piles pressure on next year’s finale. That’s a long intermission at the bar.
No other place on earth may have the body count of the Coliseum, and now, in digital form, Gladiator 2 can join the list. Despite years of development, it’s just not big enough and distinctive enough to fill the arena.
Bewildering, referential and scrappy, there are moments of genius in Megalopolis, but it’s hard to see how there couldn’t be. Perhaps a film better realised at a time it couldn’t so easily have been, the 1970s, it’s of most interest as a sprawling attempt by Coppola to cap and contain his extraordinary career.
A gleaming folly then, and one that does little for anyone on the screen. But despite its flaws, it’s an undeniable love letter to cinema, and every great director should be allowed one of those in their later years.
Twisters delivers beautifully on its concept, with a firm grasp of what a sequel should be, even if it comes almost 30 years later.
Well cast, and even better with its by-the-book structure, you don’t even have to like country music to enjoy the action and drama, although it most definitely helps.
Villeneuve justifies the splitting of Herbert’s definitive tome by letting the second half of the book breathe. The union and exploration of themes as it positions its characters is superb.
His Dune may not be weird enough for some, but its focus has depth and commitment worthy of Paul Atreides.
Dune: Part Two is a confident, intelligent, poetic expansion of the story, and an epic, if not quite complete, package.
Madame Web is a good-looking step up for Sony’s Spider-Man universe, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a pondering, miscast, waste of quirky potential. We’re spared a post-credits scene, but the closing frames that can’t help recall Batman and Robin and feel extremely rushed are likely to leave the audience confused and uninspired.
We may have seen the future: RIP the Sony Spider-Man Universe.