Lee Cronin’s The Mummy

22/04/26

Cineworld, Edinburgh

“Lee Cronin? Who’s that?” I hear some of you ask. And it’s a fair question. The Irish director only has a few screen credits thus far, most recently a fairly decent reboot of the Evil Dead franchise. But, with a bigger, glossier, Brendan Fraser-led Mummy 4 on the cinematic horizon, his producers were clearly worried that there might be some confusion if the director’s name weren’t attached. And, before you argue that it’s pretty unlikely anybody would confuse the two projects, allow me to mention that I was recently at a screening of Riz Ahmed’s Hamlet, where several members of the audience stood up about ten minutes in and announced (loudly and indignantly) that they thought they’d booked to see Chloé Zhao’s Hamnet.

Go figure.

This version of the story is quite unlike any that’s gone before. In Cairo, Katie Cannon (Natalie Grace), the youngest daughter of news reporter Charlie (Jack Raynor) and his wife, Larissa (Laia Costa), is abducted by a mysterious woman, shortly before the family is due to move back to America for Charlie’s work. We know the kidnapping has something to do with Egyptian mythology, thanks to a short and fairly bloody opening sequence that’s not fully explained until later on. (Be warned: the film has an 18 certificate and is happy to flaunt it.) Meanwhile, Detective Dalia Zaki (May Calamawy) is determined to discover who kidnapped Katie and why.

Six years later, Katie is found wrapped up in bandages and lying in an ancient sarcophagus, which has been recovered from a plane crash in the desert. She’s somehow still alive but has changed dramatically both in looks and demeanour – and not for the better. Determined to do their best for her, Charlie and Larissa bring Katie home to Albuquerque to reunite her with her older brother and her new little sister. Yes, I know. Very bad idea, but then this is the kind of decision that parents always make in horror movies.

Katie is uncommunicative and has a nasty habit of getting out of her room at night to creep through the house, catching and eating insects – and it soon becomes clear that she has big plans for her family…

It’s pointless to say any more about the plot other than to mention that, if this film resembles any other horror franchise, it’s The Exorcist. Katie is to all intents and purposes possessed by an ancient demon and herdevout Catholic granny, Carmen (Veronica Falcón), is on hand to seize every opportunity to pray for her deliverance, usually with catastrophic results. While on the one hand, I do applaud Cronin’s attempts to steer the franchise away from its familiar roots – an approach he took with Evil Dead Rise – I have to say that transplanting it to the well-trodden territory of another cinematic classic may not have been the wisest move. Furthermore, though the film starts confidently enough, it becomes increasingly unpleasant, yet somehow never manages to be convincingly scary.

There’s a nail-cutting sequence that will definitely have you wincing and there’s enough blood, vomit and pus flying about the screen to put you right off your cinema snacks – but grossness isn’t the same thing as terror. I also worry that some of the scenes featuring Egyptian characters venture dangerously close to ‘othering’ territory.

Most damning of all, there are moments in the endlessly protracted climax that come across as downright laughable, as though Cronin is determined to gross out anyone who is still watching. Opinions are going to be divided. Those who judge a horror film on the amounts of type O that are spilled may be more supportive than me, but for my money this is a valiant effort that ultimately doesn’t come off. A shame. It remains to be seen if the upcoming Mummy 4 is worth the price of admittance, but I can’t help feeling that maybe it’s time somebody uttered those famous words.

‘It’s a wrap.’

3 stars

Philip Caveney

Undertone

21/04/26

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Undertone has been in the cinemas for a week now, but it’s been mostly restricted to a series of late-night showings – and I prefer to do my movie-watching in the daytime. Finally, here’s a rare chance to see it at 12pm and I’m glad to have the opportunity. Written and directed by Ian Tuason, this stripped-back Canadian chiller has been cleverly billed as ‘the scariest film you’ll ever hear’ and certainly what seeps into an audience’s ears is every bit as important as what they actually see onscreen.

Evy (Nina Kiri) is going through a difficult time. She’s trapped in her mother’s house in Toronto, craving alcohol and trying to deal with the discovery that she’s pregnant. Meanwhile, her mother (played by Michéle Duquet) lies in her upstairs bedroom in a comatose condition, nearing the end of her life. Luckily Evy has The Undertone Podcast to think about, which she records and presents with her friend, Justin (voiced by Adam DiMarco), who is based far away in New York. The series is devoted to all things creepy – though Evy, despite being raised a Catholic, is a staunch disbeliever in the supernatural.

Justin reveals that he’s recently received a series of ten audio files from a man called Mike. They feature his wife, Jessa, who has started talking (and sometimes singing) in her sleep. The recordings all feature unsettling details and inexplicable sounds – especially when played in reverse – and, as the podcasters work their way through them, so Evy’s convictions start to crumble…

Made for just $50,000, Undertone has grossed millions in the USA and it’s easy to see why it has notched up yet another win for production company A24, who seem to have an uncanny nose for quality horror projects.

Set entirely in one house, the film starts with a series of tiny unsettling details – a light left on, a tap left running… but, as the story steadily unfolds, so these details become more overt, more sinister, until a sense of palpable dread has me in its tenacious grip. I listen intently to every garbled soundscape that pulses from the cinema’s Dolby speakers. (Unless you have an incredibly sophisticated sound system at home, don’t leave this one for streaming.) Furthermore, Undertone subverts all the usual clichés of the genre. Moments that appear to be building towards an inevitable jump-scare never come to fruition, Tuason preferring to leave viewers in a constant state of anxiety.

As the film’s final scenes build to an almost unbearable tension, I actually find myself holding my breath… and that’s when I’m hit by a revelation that I really don’t see coming. Undertone is an ingenious little movie that makes a big impact, but it’s definitely not for the faint-hearted.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney

Amélie

17/04/26

Filmhouse, Edinburgh

With decent new releases a bit thin on the ground, it seems a propitious time for the re-release of Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s 2001 masterpiece, Amélie, in a stunning 4K restoration. This gorgeous, swooning tale of love and intrigue is unlike any other film I’ve seen. Whimsical, wildly inventive and built around an astonishing lead performance by Audrey Tautou, it exudes charm and wonder in equal measure. It’s every bit as good as I remember and has me leaving like I’m walking on air.

When we first meet Amélie, she’s just being born – and the film speedily takes us into her childhood. She’s a complex creature, who, after the early death of her mother, longs for affection from her distant but well-meaning father, Raphael (Rufus). But the loss of his wife has plunged him into despair and he retreats into a world of his own, unable to give his daughter the affection she craves. Soon Amélie has grown to womanhood. She’s still looking for the love she’s missed out on and is now determined to create opportunities for others who may be in need of that precious commodity. She works as a waitress in a bar in Paris and it’s here that she quietly goes about the business of making magic (and sometimes mayhem) for the various people she encounters, building stories around them and quietly seeking ways to introduce some much-needed romance into their lives.

Her antics are closely observed by her elderly neighbour, Raymond (Serge Merlin), a man with brittle-bone disease, who has devoted his life to reproducing a famous painting, Renoir’s Luncheon of the Boating Party. It’s a task he re-attempts every year, obsessed with getting it right. And what is it about one female character in the picture that so intrigues him?

Co-written by Jeunet and Guillaume Laurant, beautifully filmed by Bruni Delbonnel, this is an object lesson in how to create memorable screen imagery – there are countless iconic shots here that wouldn’t look out of place on the walls of an art gallery. The story is wonderfully labyrinthine and the complex machinations that Amélie goes to in her quest to help friends and neighbours are delightfully offbeat. The protracted ‘will they, won’t they’ courtship she engineers with Nino (Matthew Kassovitz) could so easily be unbearably cute, but somehow Jeunet manages to inject everything with a Gallic edginess that keeps it all on track. Furthermore, not all of Amélie’s elaborate schemes go quite to plan.

Be warned. Watching Amélie comes with the distinct danger of falling hopelessly in love with it. If you didn’t see it first time around, then here’s your chance to catch one of the most original movies ever made. Miss it and weep.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

The High Life

07/04/26

Festival Theatre, Edinburgh

Way back in 1994, a seven-part television series aired on the BBC. The brainchild of actors Alan Cumming and Forbes Masson, it offered a surreal blend of Scottish whimsy and outrageous musical routines. Cumming played Sebastian Flight and Masson was Steve McCracken, two flight attendants working for the fictional airline, Air Scotia. These were men for whom sarcastic asides came fitted as standard. A second series was planned but never came to fruition but, over the years, The High Life achieved a sizeable cult following. Who could have foreseen that three decades later the two originators would team up with Johnny McKnight to create a stage musical inspired by that very series? And who could have predicted that it would star four members of the original cast and would be presented by The National Theatre of Scotland, no less?

But the proof is right here on the stage of the Festival Theatre, as Sebastian and Steve prepare for take off once more. Suffice to say, their old adversary, Shona Spurtle (Siobhan Redmond), is still prowling the aisle ‘like Mussolini in micro-mesh,’ keeping our two heroes well and truly under her thumb, while Captain Hilary Duff (Patrick Rycart) can always be depended on to wander in at inappropriate moments, making rambling observations about whatever happens to be on his mind. Not the flight, that’s for sure.

The sense of affection from the packed auditorium is palpable and the staunch fans’ reactions to familiar references are loud and appreciative. As somebody who has never seen the TV series, I must admit that these allusions go right over my head – but it doesn’t really matter. This is, more than anything else, utterly devoted to unbridled silliness in all its exquisite forms. The script is packed with superb one-liners and up-to-the-minute political references. The lead players demonstrate that they really can turn their boundless skills to just about any genre – and the supporting cast are (nylon) uniformly excellent. Kyle Gardiner is particularly impressive in the role of new recruit Mylie, while Rachael Kendall Brown is utterly adorable as Kylie, the stewardess who has been secretly carrying a candle for Shona.

Colin Richmond’s set and costume design are suitably ingenious, taking nylon to places it’s never been before, while Emily Jane Boyle’s slick choreography keeps the 11-strong cast striding, dancing (and occasionally crawling) across every inch of the massive stage. Director Andrew Panton handles all the rampant mayhem with commendable skill and the pace never flags for a moment.

The first act culminates in a sudden and startling manner. During the interval, Susan and I speculate about what might await us in the second. It speaks volumes that both of us are half-right and simultaneously, completely wrong about where Flight 123 is ultimately headed. The High Life goes to places most other airlines dare not venture and it’s fun to travel with them. My advice would be to get yourselves down to the Festival Theatre before this show jets off on tour.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

California Schemin’

06/04/26

Cineworld, Edinburgh

There have been a lot of ‘based on a true story’ movies lately, but California Schemin’ is one of the most appealing I’ve seen in quite a while. Originally filmed as a documentary (2013’s The Great Hip Hop Hoax), the real-life events provide the basis for the directorial debut of actor James McAvoy. It must be said, he makes a compelling and thought-provoking transition to the other side of the camera.

It’s the early Noughties and Gavin Bain (Seamus McLean Ross) and his best friend, Billy Boyd (Samuel Bottomley), are working in a call centre in Dundee, where Billy’s flair for adopting different accents makes him the leading salesman. But the boys devote all of their spare time to creating rap songs, written by Gavin and performed as a duo, though Billy is clearly the more confident performer. Like a lot of kids, they dream of making it big in the music industry – but their approaches to record labels keep bumping up against the issue of their Scottish accents. When they travel to London to attend an open call for ‘new bands’ they are summarily dismissed as ‘the Rapping Proclaimers’ after performing just a few lines.

Then Gavin comes up with an audacious plan. Since everyone they speak to extolls the virtues of American rappers, why not become American? Fired up by the idea, the pair re-record their demos with their best attempts at US accents, even devising a backstory for themselves as Californians. Miraculously, the record labels they approach now show much more interest in ‘Silibil and Brains’ – and the next time they’re in London, the boys manage to blag their way into a rap club, where they perform an impromptu song onstage, which goes down a storm. Luckily for them, ambitious talent scout Tessa (Rebekah Murrell) happens to be in the crowd and invites them to come in to her office for ‘a chat.’

Almost before they know what’s happening, they’re signed for a hefty advance and are being lined up for some prestigious gigs, as well as a TV appearance. Billy suggests that they reveal their true identities to the world live on TV, exposing the music industry’s anti-Scottish bias, but Gavin is enjoying his newfound stardom a little too much and is not quite ready to blow the whistle…

There are strong performances from the two leads, while McAvoy provides a cameo as Anthony Reid, the no-nonsense head of Neotone Records, ironically a Scotsman himself. Lucy Halliday is appealing as Mary, Billy’s partner, who, stuck back in Dundee, can only watch in bemused wonder as the whole enterprise hurtles out of control.

As well as the sheer fun of the central premise, California Schemin’ also makes some interesting observations about prejudice, and the way so many people have preconceptions about the limitations of national identity. Why can’t somebody with a Scottish accent be a talented rapper? And why did the record company act in such a hostile way when the truth was finally uncovered? Co-written by Bain and Boyd, with Elaine Gracie and Archie Thompson, this is a whole ton of fun, best watched in amped-up Dolby stereo in the movie theatre of your choice. If you prefer streaming, you’d probably better warn the neighbours. It’s gonna get loud…

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go. I think I feel a song coming on…

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

The Drama

04/04/26

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Charlie (Robert Pattinson) and Emma (Zendaya) are a successful young couple based in Boston. The story begins with a flashback to their first meeting – an endearingly bumbling meet-cute in a coffee shop – but they have been together for two years now. They share a nice apartment, are both in secure jobs and clearly love each other deeply. So naturally they decide that it’s time to officially tie the knot. Like so many couples before them, they set all the wheels in motion: classes with a choreographer for that all-important first dance, test photographs to make sure they actually know how to smile convincingly, sample menus just to ensure that every bite on the big day will be perfect… and wine of course. Don’t forget the wine!

But things take an unexpected turn when, a few days before the wedding, they get drunk with their close friends, Mike (Mamoudou Athie), who is Charlie’s choice for Best Man, and Rachel (Alana Haim), who Emma has chosen as her Maid of Honour. Playing an impromptu game of ‘what’s the worst thing you’ve even done?’ Emma shares something that happened to her when she was just fifteen years old – something so shocking that it casts an immediate pall over the proceedings and starts Charlie wondering if he really does want to spend the rest of his life with this woman.

From this point, the whole enterprise begins to spin dangerously out of control and everything the couple does to try to limit the potential damage only makes it so much worse…

The Drama is aptly titled (how does production company A24 manage to unearth so many great projects?) because it focuses on the performative nature of the wedding experience and, no matter how many unexpected twists are thrown into the mix, this deliciously dark comedy never flags. Both Pattinson and Zendaya are great in the lead roles but the supporting cast also shine in their respective parts, particularly Haim, who is transformed by Emma’s confession into a sneering, vengeful version of her former self. There are some truly toe-curdling moments that actually have me wincing and offering silent thanks that my own wedding had none of the hurdles depicted here. The groom’s speech actually has me wanting to hide behind my seat.

Written and directed by Kristoffer Borgli, The Drama utilises a wonderfully fragmentary approach, cutting back and forth across Emma’s backstory, where she’s played by Jordyn Curet. That dark revelation has polarised audiences in the USA, where one newspaper has already awarded it a ‘no stars’ review – but to my mind, the way Emma’s childhood is revealed makes me totally understand what happened to make her act as she did. Also, I don’t believe in thought crime but I do believe in second chances.

We are also offered glimpses of Charlie’s dreams, and his dark imaginings as he contemplates what the future might hold for him. This is a smart, ingenious, low-budget film that delivers in just about every respect and, whatever else you think of it, I’m pretty sure you won’t be bored.

4. 4 stars

Philip Caveney

The Magic Faraway Tree

02/04/26

Cineworld, Edinburgh

If you didn’t read The Magic Faraway Tree as a child, then you really did miss out. Mention the title to anyone who encountered it in their early years, and you’ll unleash a torrent of strange words, none of which will make much sense if you’re not au fait with the fantasy series. “Moonface!” they’ll exclaim. “Silky! The Slippery-slip! Pop-biscuits! Dame Slap!”

This adaptation (written by Simon Farnaby and directed by Ben Gregor) veers wildly from the original but still retains the heart of Enid Blyton’s beloved books. In this version, Beth, Joe and Franny (formerly Bessie, Jo and Fanny) are firmly Generation Alpha, unable to imagine a world without Wi-Fi, ear pods or mobile phones. So when their mum (Claire Foy) loses her well-paid city job and their dad (Andrew Garfield) suggests moving to the middle of nowhere to set up a pasta sauce business, they’re not exactly thrilled.

Teenager Beth (Delilah Bennett-Cardy) is especially put out. Seriously? She’s expected to live here? There’s nothing but fields and trees. What’s she supposed to do? Middle child Joe (Phoenix Laroche) agrees with her: he’s reduced to pretending a plank of wood is a games console. Meanwhile Franny (Billie Gadsdon), a thoughtful child with selective mutism – no, that’s not in the original – is slowly starting to blossom. What’s behind her newfound confidence?

The clue is in the title. Despite warnings from a neighbouring farmer (Farnaby), Franny has ventured into the Enchanted Wood, where she’s encountered the folk of the Faraway Tree. Its trunk and branches house a multitude of wonderful characters – including Moonface (Nonso Anozie), Silky (Nicola Coughlan) and the Saucepan Man (Dustin Demri-Burns). Even better, there’s a ladder at the top, which stretches up through the clouds into a host of magical lands. No wonder Franny’s motivated to speak when she’s bursting with news of elves and pixies and the Land of Goodies. And of course, eventually, her skeptical siblings join her there…

Farnaby and Gregor have captured the essence of Blyton’s stories, the whimsical appeal of fairies, wishes and aeroplanes that get sleepy – but attempting to fit in every idea from the book makes the end result feel a little over-stuffed and it doesn’t help that there are also a lot of ideas that weren’t there in the first place. A sub-plot involving Jennifer Saunders as the children’s avaricious granny (who, for no discernible reason, boasts a dodgy German accent) feels somewhat superfluous. On the other hand, not enough is made of Rebecca Ferguson’s Dame Snap (formerly Slap) and her prison-like school. Ferguson gives this her best shot, but we’re barely in her presence for ten minutes before the adventure careers onwards.

But this is nonetheless a delightful children’s film, which littl’uns are sure to enjoy for its own sake, while their elders take the opportunity to drink a cup of acornade and revel in nostalgia.

3.8 stars

Susan Singfield

Miss Lockwood Isn’t Well

01/04/26

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

It’s April Fool’s Day and the final offering in this season’s A Play A Pie and a Pint seems an apt choice for the occasion. Miss Lockwood Isn’t Well focuses on the trials and tribulations of primary school teacher Alice Lockwood (Karen Young), who has been suspended from work after experiencing a series of visions. Each encounter features a saint, who arrives in her classroom bearing helpful advice. Mind you, the insights she’s granted aren’t (at least, initially) in Joan of Arc territory.

That earring she lost? It’s under the fridge. Apparently.

Dr Freer (Jane McQuarry) has been given the tricky task of determining whether or not Alice is fit to return to work. For the assessment, Alice has requested that her parish priest, Father Mackin (Mark Cox), should also be in attendance, presumably to offer some moral support – though his snarky, mocking attitude probably isn’t what she was hoping for. Dr Freer asks Alice to explain, in her own words, the bizarre encounters that have brought her to her current situation and her ensuing account makes up the substance of James Reilly’s acerbic and occasionally hilarious play.

Young manages to keep her character grounded throughout, wide-eyed with dismay that anybody would think her a potential danger, but occasionally slipping into a kind of altered state – whereupon some of her revelations really do seem to verge on the miraculous. It’s an intriguing twist. Cox is given the lion’s share of the one-liners, which he handles with perfect timing, coaxing big laughs from the audience – and McQuarry makes an excellent job of the play’s trickiest role, refereeing the constant sparring of her two companions, yet still managing to create a convincing and utterly professional character.

This is an undeniably intriguing piece. The revelation that there are actually thousands of patron saints recognised by the Catholic church – and that many of them have pretty inane responsibilities – adds to the general air of amusement. Did you know, for instance, that there’s actually a patron saint of dysentery? St Polycarp. Thanks for asking.

Catriona McLeod handles the direction with her usual skill and Heather Grace Currie’s neon-splashed set revels in the innate tackiness of Catholicism (sorry, lapsed Catholic speaking). If the play’s conclusion doesn’t quite smack home with a killer punch, this is a thoroughly entertaining way to spend a Wednesday lunchtime.

Come to think of it, there’s probably a patron saint for those too. Saint Pie-us? I’ll get my coat.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

The Light House

28/03/26

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

Alys Williams’ one-woman show raises some important issues about caring for someone who is struggling with their mental health. The play opens with a boat on a stormy sea – and the terrifying realisation that someone has fallen in. “Man overboard!” yells Williams. “Man overboard!” echo the audience members she has previously primed. “Call the bridge!” Williams says. “Blow the whistle! Throw the lifebuoy! Point!”

The final instruction is the hardest to follow, because she has to keep pointing without looking away until someone else comes to take over.

No matter how long that takes.

The metaphor soon becomes clear. The protagonist’s boyfriend experiences suicidal ideation. When he’s found on a Dublin bridge, contemplating throwing himself into the Liffey, she tries her best to rise to the occasion. She sounds the alarm: “Man overboard!” She doesn’t let him out of her sight. But no one comes to her assistance, and her own wellness begins to suffer.

It’s interesting to see this story from the caregiver’s point of view. However, although this is very much Alys’s tale, I think the piece would benefit from a deeper exploration of Nathan’s experience, offering us more insight into his illness than the superficial assertion that he’s ‘depressed’. Without this, it’s hard to appreciate the extent to which Alys’s care is needed.

From a dramatic point of view, there’s not a lot of jeopardy. Williams assures us at the beginning that everything turns out okay, and it does – with nary a bump on the road. Aside from the initial incident – where Nathan thinks about killing himself and then decides not to – everything progresses relatively smoothly. Sure, there are the long waiting lists for psychiatric care, his parents’ worries about their medical insurance and Alys’s spiralling anxiety. But none of these potentially serious complications ever amounts to anything, which makes the play feel strangely anticlimactic.

Nonetheless, Williams is a very engaging performer. Directed by Andrea Heaton, her gentle, inclusive demeanour makes the audience participation work well. I also like her use of puppetry and clowning; in fact, I think Williams could make more of these to amplify the emotional impact. The set (by Emma Williams) is effective, conjuring both boat and bedsit, its many ladders and hiding places allowing for dynamic movement.

A nicely-told drama about a vital subject, The Light House is on tour until the 24th May.

3 stars

Susan Singfield

The Good Boy

26/03/26

Cineworld, Edinburgh

The title of Stephen Graham’s new film has caused some confusion. The Good Boy is known as in some quarters as Heel, mostly to avoid being confused with another recent release, Good Boy, which is about a haunted dog – though in both films one of the ‘lead’ characters gets to wear a collar. Confused? Don’t be. Suffice to say this is a fascinating watch, whatever it’s called, featuring one of the darkest, most twisted storylines I’ve seen in a very long time.

Tommy (Anson Boon) is a toxic nineteen-year-old, who revels in drugs, violence and rampant sex, delighting in filming his exploits and posting them up on social media, where he’s attracting quite a following. Unluckily for him, his excesses have come to the attention of Chris (Stephen Graham) and, all too soon, Tommy wakes up on a mattress in the cellar of Chris’s remote detached house, chained in position and wearing the aforementioned collar. In his new home, he is compelled to obey his master’s every command. Should he misbehave, Chris is more than ready to dole out savage punishment – and he makes it clear from the get-go that he intends to show Tommy how a good boy behaves.

So, who is going to come to Tommy’s help? Certainly not Chris’s pale and wan wife, Kathryn (Andrea Riseborough), who appears to be broken by something terrible in her recent past. And certainly not Chris’s young son, Jonathan (Kit Rakusen), who looks and talks like a kid from an Enid Blyton novel and is very careful not to misbehave. What about the house’s most recent addition, hired cleaning woman, Rina (Monika Frajczyk)? Could she become Tommy’s ally? Or is she too caught up with family problems of her own? Besides, surely somebody has reported Tommy’s disappearance… won’t the police be looking for him?

The beauty of this film, written by Bartek Bartosik and Naqqash Khalid, is that I’m never entirely sure where the storyline is headed, right up to its final scene. Every time I think I’m close to working things out, it swings in an entirely different direction, which only serves to make it all the more intriguing. The three leads all play their roles compellingly, particularly Riseborough, who is obliged to remain mute for many of her early appearances, yet skilfully contrives to exude a palpable air of utter misery. Director Jan Komasa keeps everything on such a tight leash (we’re back to dogs again!) that the film has me in suspense from start to finish.

But what’s it about, I hear you ask? Is it just an unpleasant tale of sadism? No. It’s much more than that. The Good Boy challenges our preconceptions about right and wrong. It is about the power of the family unit – the ways in which it can exert both good and bad influences on those who are held within its tenacious grip. So many people attribute importance to their respective families and are often prepared to go to extreme lengths to ensure that the dynamic continues to function. Chris has clearly taken this approach far further than anyone ever should, but is there something at the heart of his methods that might actually… work?

Whatever your thoughts on the matter, The Good Boy is a powerful and highly original slice of contemporary cinema. See it if you can and draw your own conclusions. I guarantee, you won’t be bored.

5 stars

Philip Caveney