Obsession

20/05/26

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Anyone familiar with WW Jacobs’ classic short story, The Monkey’s Paw, will have a fair idea of what to expect going into Curry Barker’s debut feature, Obsession – and if the film’s title is somewhat forgettable, this is nevertheless a nicely-made low-budget chiller, which manages to keep a few surprises tucked up its blood-spattered sleeve. 

Bear (Michael Johnston) lives alone in his late grandma’s house. Despite his dark good looks, he’s a bit of a loner – and the grisly demise of the cat that usually keeps him company suggests that the situation isn’t going to change any time soon. But Bear has a secret crush on Nikki (Inde Navarrette), a co-worker at the lowly musical instrument store where he earns a crust. He’s trying to work up the courage to ask her out, encouraged by another workmate, Ian (Cooper Tomlinson), but somehow Bear lacks the nerve to voice his true feelings to her.

And then, in a local curio shop, he buys a tacky little gizmo called a One-Wish Willow, intending to give it to Nikki as a silly birthday gift. The idea is to break the twig and wish aloud for your heart’s desire. In a moment of weakness, Bear uses the device to further his own aims, impulsively wishing that Nikki will love him more than anyone in the world . He soon comes to understand the old adage, ‘Be careful what you wish for.’  Because quite suddenly, Nicky does love him – obsessively, relentlessly, unpredictably – and she isn’t going to let anything stand in the way of her possessing him, heart and soul…

While it’s a familiar premise, Barker sets out his stall with skill, aided by two strong performances from the leads – particularly from Navarette, who can switch from sweet and shy to downright terrifying in the blink of an eye. Barker shot the film himself (he began his career making short online features) and has a great knack for capturing disturbing silhouettes. There are some adroitly-handled jump scares and I haven’t been so disturbed by a character’s grin since the Smile films.

There are also some interesting issues in the subtext: the way that couples influence each other; the jealousy that can be caused by other friendships; the awful void that can open up when a relationship has run its course and only one person is ready to make the break. Barker – who also wrote the screenplay – unleashes a whole series of tortuous events which build rapidly to carnage. I find myself thoroughly swept up in proceedings and am genuinely surprised when the final credits roll. One hour and forty-eight minutes have sped past seemingly in the blink of an eye.

Obsession makes another valuable addition to the crop of quirky horrors currently dominating the cineplexes – though I still think it would benefit from a more interesting title. One-Wish Willow, maybe?

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney 

Black Diamonds and the Blue Brazil

13/05/26

Royal Lyceum, Edinburgh

Sally (Dawn Steele) works in the high-pressure cauldron of a London-based law firm but, after the death of her beloved father, she is called back to her home town of Cowdenbeath to attend his funeral. Dad (Barrie Hunter) was a lifelong fan of the local football team – the ‘Blue Brazil’ of the title. One of her father’s friends informs Sally that her dad’s deepest wish was to have his ashes scattered on the team’s home ground of Central Park.

She initially surmises that the ritual will take place after the next game, only a few days away but soon learns that Dad has requested it should only happen after Cowdenbeath’s next win. And it turns out that his team doesn’t have a great record of scoring actual goals. In fact, their ability to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory is almost beyond belief. 

Sally’s sojourn in her Dad’s council house is haunted by recollections of her father’s obsession with his team’s history and her own terrible memories of what happened to her Mum. As the season slips inexorably by, Sally begins to wonder if she’ll ever get back to the career she’s worked so hard for…

Black Diamond and the Blue Brazil, based on the book by Ron Ferguson and adapted by Gary McNair, is quick to point out that you don’t have to be a Cowdenbeath fan to enjoy this story, but it certainly helps if you are. It’s clear from the laughter (and at one point some actual tears) in tonight’s packed audience that there are many supporters in the house.

Steele does an excellent job of the world-weary, comedic patter, evincing plenty of perfectly-timed laughs from the crowd, but the story is essentially one long litenany of failure, which doesn’t exactly make for an easy watch. The story is punctuated by Ricky Ross’s plaintive ballads which are a little too one-note to help lift the mood – and since each song appears to be a retelling of the scene we’ve just witnessed, they don’t quite generate enough momentum to power the story. Sitting way back at stage left, Ross feels somehow distanced from what’s happening, commentating rather than collaborating.

This play first surfaced as an audio piece and its staging seems a little uneven in its adaptation. Jessica Worrall’s set design is unapologetically realistic in concept, right down to an urn containing the deceased remains. I prefer the occasional moments when the songs are illuminated by Lewis Den Hertog’s video projections, hinting at the long history of the team and its roots in the black soil of coal mining.

At this point, I should confess that I’ve never had any interest in football, though I do sometimes enjoy theatrical interpretations of it (SameTeam immediately springs to mind). However, it’s clear from tonight’s heartfelt standing ovation that the majority of the crowd are with this every step of the way. 

Maybe I’m the problem, but for me, this doesn’t quite hit the back of the net..

3 stars

Philip Caveney

The Sheep Detectives

10/05/26

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Writer Craig Mazan has had a somewhat checkered career on the big screen. Early projects like Scary Movie 4 and The Hangover 3 came and went without much fuss – and yet, for television, he scripted both the extraordinary Chernobyl and The Last of Us to well-deserved acclaim. What then are we to make of his long-nurtured adaptation of Leonie Swann’s novel, Three Bags Full, which plays like a cross between Babe and Murder Most Foul?

The Sheep Detectives is the story of a shepherd called George (Hugh Jackman, sporting a winning smile and an accent that seems to vary alarmingly from scene to scene). George is the proverbial good shepherd, a man who only farms sheep for their wool and wouldn’t dream of worrying his flock by waving pots of mint sauce at them. He even has a long-established routine of reading them murder mysteries every night to ‘help them sleep.’ As you do.

He’s blissfully unaware that they understand every word he’s saying…

One morning, George’s dead body is discovered in the field and his flock, led by Lily (voiced by Julia Louis-Dreyfus), decide that the crime deserves a deeper level of investigation than can be expected from the local village’s solitary policeman. He’s the nice but ineffectual Tim (Nicholas Braun, making a better fist of an English accent than Jackman). Lily teams up with loner ram, Sebastian (Bryan Cranston), to look deeper into the long list of suspects. These include George’s estranged daughter, Rebecca (Molly Gordon), local innkeeper, Beth (Hong Chau), and fellow shepherd, Caleb (Tosin Cole), a man who is much happier to exploit the potential of turning sheep into cold cuts. And what about wannabe newspaper reporter, Elliot (Nicholas Galitzine)? Why is he taking such an interest in the case?

Initially, I’m somewhat underwhelmed by the WTF concept and have to confess that I do find some of the story’s more saccharin moments hard to endure. But as the film progresses, I’m increasingly drawn into the story, preposterous though it is. Director Kyle Balda has a background in animation and it must be said that the many sheep characters that populate the story all have their own distinct personalities. At no point am I ever confused by who is ewe (sorry) and that’s no easy matter when there are sometimes scores of the creatures onscreen. It’s also fair to say that the script is occasionally amusing – and sometimes surprising. A sequence where Lily and Mopple (Chris O’Dowd) have an unpleasant encounter with the sheep on Caleb’s farm turns quite dark.

But whether or not you’ll enjoy this hokum really does depend on you buying its central premise – that sheep aren’t as stupid as their reputation suggests. Ultimately, perhaps the biggest mystery here is how so many A list actors signed on the dotted line for the project. Patrick Stewart plays an elderly ram called Sir Richfield – doing an uncanny impersonation of his old pal Ian McKellan into the bargain – and even Emma Thompson shows up in a cameo role as George’s acerbic solicitor, Lydia Harbottle.

Judging by the sizeable crowd at the daytime screening I attend, The Sheep Detectives is likely to make a splash at the box office with flocks of youngsters keen to see it. But several older viewers make for the exit fifteen minutes in muttering, “Baaaa humbug!” and I can fully appreciate their position. This really is that fabled film that’s “not for everyone.”

3. 2 stars

Philip Caveney

Hokum

03/05/26

Cineworld, Edinburgh

I emerge from Hokum thinking that this low-budget horror from Irish director, Damien MaCarthy, is aptly-titled. The term originated in American theatre in the early 20th century and is a combination of Hocus-Pocus and Bunkum. I have to say that the storyline here does not stand up to scrutiny – but nevertheless, I do find the result enjoyable, if occasionally confusing.

Ohm Baumann (Adam Scott, of Severance fame) is a successful author, currently putting the finishing touches to his bestselling ‘Conquistador ‘ trilogy. Indeed, the film begins with a short extract from the book’s planned ending, which could be best described as ‘flat.’ It’s also clear from early on that Ohm is being haunted by something from his past. Pretty soon, he’s left his native America and is driving through a remote part of Ireland, where’s he’s planning to visit the Bilberry Woods Inn, where his parents spent their honeymoon. He carries with him the ashes of said parents, which he is planning to scatter in the place where they were last happy. Next to a tree, apparently.

The hotel is one of those constructions that only exist in the minds of authors: dark, forbidding and peopled by a collection of odd balls that would have most travellers checking out without further delay – but Ohm is on a mission. He dutifully sprinkles the ashes of Mum and Dad, has an encounter in the woods with bearded weirdo, Jerry (David Wilmot), and then drinks a lot of whiskey whilst chatting to friendly bar steward, Fiona (Florence Ordesh). He outlines the ending of his new book to her, whereupon she charmingly tells him she won’t be reading it.

Mind you, Ohm is not the friendliest character himself, openly rude to pretty much everyone he meets and summarily insulting porter and wannabe author, Albie (Will O Connell), when he meekly suggests that Ohm might care to have a quick look at his manuscript. This kind of attitude is generally off-putting in a protagonist but somehow Scott manages to get away with it, eliciting laughs with his sneering comments.

But then there’s a dark development, after which Fiona goes missing – and Ohm becomes obsessed with finding out what happened to her…

Hokum does a decent job of generating an eerie and unsettling sense of dread throughout, though I do occasionally find myself wishing somebody would turn some lights on. The inn, of course, harbours an open secret: the Honeymoon Suite (where Ohm’s parents stayed) is permanently closed to the public, because it’s haunted by ‘a witch’. Naturally, Ohm needs to get in there in his search for Fiona. If you can buy this premise, you’ll have a good chance of enjoying the supernatural shenanigans that ensue, though I do have some trouble with the very complicated geography of the various rooms, corridors and lifts that comprise the suite – and I can’t be the only one who’s puzzled when Ohm suddenly appears to be wearing a set of manacles. A later reference to the fact that his whiskey has been spiked with magic mushrooms feels like an attempt to cover up what is more likely a continuity error after some scenes have been edited out.

And perhaps most damning of all, the incident that has been haunting our antihero from the start – doubtless intended to be something of a revelation – is too broadly signposted to come as a surprise.

Hokum is another addition to the many decent horror films currently gracing the multiplexes, but it’s not really up there with the likes of Weapons, a film which manages to generate real terror without feeling the need to dim the lights at every opportunity.

3.6 stars

Philip Caveney

Mayday: Rapid Responses to Our Times

01/05/26

Central Hall, Edinburgh

This National Theatre of Scotland production, co-curated and directed by Cora Bissett and Hannah Lavery, comprises live music, theatre, poetry, comedy and dance. Commissioned as a rapid-response project – a reaction to our turbulent political climate – this is part call-to-arms and part howl into the void. Because sometimes we need the catharsis of the latter before we can can put on our big-girl pants and contemplate the former.

Organisationally, this is a triumph, each act flowing smoothly into the next, even when an ensemble as large as the Loud and Proud choir has to file onto the stage. There’s a lot that could go wrong: as well as the numerous performances, there are short films, set changes and BSL interpreters, not to mention the house band. That it all unfolds without a glitch is mightily impressive.

The auditorium is packed; this is a sell-out. It’s not surprising: we’re all looking for answers and maybe artists are the right people to pose the questions. They have strong voices, diverse audiences and myriad means of expression. Some of us will respond to ideas that emerge from dance; others to music or drama. It doesn’t matter. Anything that makes us pause and think. And act accordingly.

For me, the strongest elements of the evening are the punchiest. The songs – especially Dawn Sievewright’s rendition of Bissett’s It’s No a Wean’s Choice and Kitti’s feminist polemic – are especially stirring, and I also appreciate the insights I gain from both Tia Rey and Sanjeev Kohli’s spoken word sections. The choirs are very affecting, as is the garland of socks that campaign group Mothers Against Genocide Scotland have hung around the venue, each tiny bootee representing a child who has died in Gaza.

Although theatre is usually my favourite art-form, I find the dramatic scenes included here the least effective elements of the evening. Although they’re well-performed (and have been penned by writers I admire, including Apphia Campbell and Uma Nada-Rajah), there isn’t enough time for the arguments to develop or for us to fully engage with the characters.

No matter. Overall, the evening is a resounding success, reminding us that – together – we can make a difference. There are lots of people out there, right now, trying – and, if we join them, we can become part of the solution. Because we really do have to do something, don’t we?

Even if it’s as small as turning out to vote next week, to stop the fascists in their tracks.

Susan Singfield

Off the Rails

30/04/26

Assembly Roxy

Off the Rails is Stephanie MacGaraidh’s professional writing debut – and what a debut it is. Playwright, songwriter, actor, musician: this is a one-woman show in every sense of the phrase. And it’s extraordinarily affecting.

It’s an auspicious start to the Assembly Roxy’s first ever season of Òran Mór’s A Play, A Pie and A Pint, whose productions usually play at the Traverse when they come to Edinburgh. The venue works well for the small-scale black box shows that PPP is known for, although the old building is not very accessible, which might exclude some of the Traverse’s regular patrons. If the rest of the plays are as good as this one, it will be a real shame for them to miss out.

MacGaraidh is Maggie, a woman on the run – or, more specifically, a woman on a train. In the quiet coach. Wearing pyjamas. With only an empty tote bag and a stale Go Ahead bar as luggage.

It’s not the way most people dream of spending their 30th birthdays…

The tone evolves with the people Maggie meets on her journey north, from raucous hen party to lonely widower. MacGaraidh plays every character with conviction, eliciting both laughter and tears. Maggie’s story emerges bit by bit, revealed through an enticing mix of song and monologue, slowly revealing a young woman who has never really recovered from high school bullying, and whose adulthood is blighted by social anxiety.

I’ve rarely seen a looper used to such excellent effect, not only as backing vocals and added guitar, but also as interior monologue, amplifying the tension as Maggie’s life veers off the rails. The intrusive train announcements intensify the pressure even further, so that we’re as relieved as Maggie when one final encounter brings her back from the brink.

Directed by Katie Slater, Off the Rails is a triumph – and MacGaraidh is surely a star in the ascendance.

4.5 stars

Susan Singfield

Rose of Nevada

25/04/26

Cameo Cinema, Edinburgh

Cornish filmmaker Mark Jenkin may just be the most single-minded director currently working. Shooting his movies on wind-up 16mm Bolex cameras; adding all the dialogue and sound effects in post-production; writing the script; even composing the ethereal scores – it’s no surprise he’s so far produced only three full-length films. His debut, Bait (2019), was shot in black and white, but he switched to colour for Enys Men (2022), a weird folk-horror film that looked astonishing, even if it felt a little thin on story.

But with Rose of Nevada, everything finally falls into place, making this – for my money – his best offering yet. It looks extraordinary with the heightened colours of a vintage Super 8, while the intriguing time-slip storyline has me thinking about it long after I’ve left the cinema. It’s haunting in the best sense of the word.

Set in a run down, impoverished fishing village somewere in Cornwall, the story begins with the mysterious reappearance of the titular boat moored in the harbour. It has somehow returned after an absence of thirty years, apparently still in full working order. The boat was lost at sea along with its crew of three, an event that affected the entire community, but owner Mike (Edward Rowe) doesn’t hesitate to send it out again, after getting permission from Tina (Rosalind Eleazar), the widow of one of the lost men. But who will make up the crew?

Everything falls eerily into place. The Captain’s slot is filled in minutes when the mysterious ‘Murgey’ (Francis McGee) turns up asking if his services will be needed. Homeless drifter Liam (Callum Turner) is glad of anything that will earn him a few quid and keep him occupied for a while. And married man, Nick (George MacKay), needs to raise some cash in order to fix a hole in the roof of his house through which the rain is pouring, though he’s reluctant to leave his wife and little girl behind.

Out on the sea, the fishing is good – almost too good – and after hours of back-breaking toil, the crew return to the harbour to find the entire village waiting to greet them. And then it begins to dawn on them that an awful lot has changed since they were last on land…

I don’t want to reveal any more about the plot, though you’ll find plenty of other reviews that do exactly that. Suffice to say that, at its core, Rose of Nevada is all about the fishing industry, the devastating effect that Brexit has had upon it and the sense of community that somehow got lost in the process. It’s clearly a cause close to Jenkin’s heart as Bait covered similar territory – but here it’s all too easy to identify with Nick’s sense of mounting bewilderment, his doomed attempts to get back to the people he loves. To balance this, it’s understandable that Liam accepts his new role with such open enthusiasm, because it’s so much more agreeable than what he had before.

It’s these elements that could help this film achieve a much wider audience than its predecessors.

Yet, for all its appeal, the director’s unique style remains uncompromised. You can take any image and know instantly who has created it. But somehow Rose of Nevada is more than just another art project. It’s a genuinely compelling story with a powerful supernatural twist that, given half a chance, will surely get its hooks into you.

4.8 stars

Philip Caveney

Jackals

24/04/26

Tech Cube, Summerhall

We’re in Vienna in the 1890s (well, we’re really in the Tech Cube, Edinburgh, but you get the idea), where Sigmund Freud (Claire Macallister) is fast becoming the most prominent name in the field of psychoanalysis. His first meeting with new patient, Emma Eckstein (Becca Robin Dunn), is initially clumsy and awkward but they soon get the measure of each other and Emma becomes a regular visitor to his office, both as a patient and as a contributor to his research. Indeed, as the years roll by, she begins to contemplate a future in the same line of work.

When they first meet, Emma is prone to bleeding copiously, a symptom we now know is caused by endometriosis but which in that era was identified – mostly by Freud – as an inevitable result of ‘hysteria.’ But when he brings in his friend, surgeon Wilhelm Fleiss (also played by Dunn), to perform a nasal operation on Emma, he unwittingly initiates the key event that will essentially end their friendship and leave Emma scarred for life…

Written by the two performers and directed by Olivia Millar-Ross, Jackals is an engrossing and often unexpectedly funny piece of work. The two actors handle their roles with skill. Macallister captures Freud’s pomposity and his tendency to claim other people’s ideas as his own, while Dunn also excels as the contradictory Emma, a woman at once fragile and fierce. In one key scene, Dunn slips on a black waistcoat and makes a confident switch to the swaggering, self-aggrandising Fleiss, urging Freud to pursue his dreams to the bitter end, to take advantage of his new-found fame.

Niroshini Thambar’s sound design is eerily haunting and Melanie Jordan’s short movement pieces, punctuating the various acts as five years unroll, are nicely judged transitions. A moment when Macallister eviscerates an orange to depict Eckstein’s surgery is a particularly effective touch and I also love the scenes where the two performers crouch on a desktop, glaring balefully into the audience like the creatures of the title.

I leave the theatre outraged by what happened to Eckstein and determined to find out more about her, which I suppose must surely be one of the main objectives of the play. It’s eye-opening.

There are just a couple more opportunities to catch Jackals at Summerhall before it moves on, so book your tickets now.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

Gush

23/04/26

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

Ally (Jessica Hardwick) is expecting her first baby. She’s looking forward to becoming a mum, but she’s also scared of losing her own identity. Already, before ‘Bug’ has put in an appearance, she’s ceded some of her autonomy to Kevin, her loving but anxious husband, who asks her to drink rooibos tea instead of her preferred English Breakfast, and keeps imploring her to ‘relax.’ Her world seems to be shrinking and she’s desperate to claw back her sense of self…

Especially that one particular aspect of herself she’s never had the courage to explore.

In a few short weeks she’ll be too busy, too tired, too focused on looking after her child, so it’s now or never, she reasons. And never isn’t an option. Ally’s always known she’s bisexual but she’s only ever been with men. She needs to try sex with a woman, just once, before she settles down for good. She deserves this last hurrah, doesn’t she?

Hardwick’s ebullient performance anchors the monologue effectively: she’s funny and appealing, so that we want her to find fulfilment, despite the moral ambiguity of her plan (namely, cheating on her husband with a sex worker). Jess Brodie’s script is witty and well-paced, the cringe-comedy elements perfectly judged, so that I often find myself laughing from behind my hands, my toes literally curled, as Ally’s quest leads her from one awkward moment to the next.

Becky Minto’s design is deceptive. At first, the set appears to be all clinical white surfaces, a perspex-coated cyclorama morphing into a hard-edged bed, softened only by a few cushions. But as the play develops and the lighting (courtesy of Renny Robertson) becomes more subdued, we notice that the bed’s walls are clad in intricately knitted wool, reminiscent of a baby’s blanket, and there’s a pleated cotton valance around the raised platform.

Under Becky Hope-Palmer’s direction, this is a lively, kinetic piece of drama, and there are some lovely creative touches. I like the way the audience is manipulated into vicarious embarrassment and, more specifically, the simplicity of Ally’s bump becoming her baby.

If you’re in the mood for a highly-original take on impending parenthood, Gush might just be the play for you. There are only two nights left to see it in Edinburgh though, so you’ll need to get your skates on.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

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