Film

Poor Things

12/01/24

Cineworld, Edinburgh

What is Yorgos Lanthimos’ secret? Since 2015’s The Lobster, he has released a string of wild, absurdly funny and generally unhinged films, the kind of projects you’d expect to see consigned to little art house cinemas, but – as we saw withThe Favourite – his inventive offerings are pulling in the big crowds and attracting top-flight performers to star in them. Tonight’s early evening screening is packed with a predominantly young crowd, who spill out afterwards, excitedly discussing what they’ve just watched. In an age where predictable comic-book films have ruled the roost for far too long, this is heartening to see.

Poor Things, adapted by Tony McNamara from the novel by Glaswegian author Alasdair Gray, is surely Lanthimos’ most surreal piece yet. It’s been relocated to London (much to the ire of Gray’s fans) and relates the story of Bella Baxter (Emma Stone), a woman who, in the film’s opening scene, throws herself from a bridge into the River Thames. Her corpse is found by Dr Godwin Baxter (Willem Dafoe), a scientist in the Victor Frankenstein tradition. He carries her to his laboratory, reanimates her and makes a few radical adjustments, creating a new being who has to completely relearn how to speak, walk and generally comport herself.

Godwin is assisted by his young protégée, Max (Ramy Youssef), who quickly falls in love with Bella, but into this already weird scenario wanders caddish lawyer, Duncan Wedderburn (Mark Ruffalo). He spots an opportunity and promptly purloins Bella for his own nefarious purposes. He whisks her away on a whistle-stop tour of the world, calling in at some of the strangest cities you’ll ever witness on the screen…

It’s hard to know where to start throwing superlatives at this, but I’ll try.

Poor Things simply vibrates and hums with pure invention, switching from black and white, to heightened colour, from fish-eye lens interiors and cramped city streets, to majestic – almost hallucinatory -landscapes, every frame so packed with ideas that I’m convinced I could watch this a dozen times and spot something new with every viewing. Stone, in a performance that has already claimed a Golden Globe and seems a good bet for an Oscar, is extraordinary here, uncannily inhabiting the character of a naïve woman. She is subjugated and exploited by the vicissitudes of toxic males, but somehow manages to assert her own agency and emerge victorious. Dafoe, who could so easily have been a clichéd horror figure, emerges as a sympathetic and weirdly adorable character, who has devoted his life to exploring the mysteries of science but still cares about his ‘daughter”s happiness. Hats-off also to composer Jerskin Fendrix for the suitably eerie score, which complements the action perfectly.

A word of warning: Poor Things has an 18 certificate and some of the content – especially those sections set in Paris – are unapologetically sexual in nature, but the film somehow never feels prurient. These scenes only serve to fuel the essence of the story: how the inherent nature of mankind is to corrupt and destroy everything of value. This may sound po-faced, but I’ve seldom seen a message delivered with such unfettered exuberance.

This is Lanthimos’ best feature yet (after The Favourite, that’s praise indeed). I’m already excited to hear about where he’s headed next. Just name the date, Yorgos; I’ll be first in the queue.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Society of the Snow

11/01/24

Netflix

The story of the Andes ‘miracle’ plane crash is something I’ve been interested in since reading Piers Paul Reed’s book on the subject, when it was published just a couple of years after the event. Like a lot of people, I also watched Frank Marshall’s 1993 film, Alive, and thought he’d made a decent fist of it, given that the setting was mostly recreated using green screens, and that North American actors like Ethan Hawke and Vincent Spano took the main roles.

So I was initially surprised to learn that JA Bayona had, for a long time, been planning his own take on the story. For Society of the Snow, he also acts as co-screenwriter, using Pablo Vierci’s book of the same name as his source. He’s shot the film in Spanish and filmed much of the story in the actual location where the crash occurred, which must have presented a logistical nightmare for him and his team.

But I’ve loved Bayona’s previous work – The Orphanage and The Impossible are two particular highlights. So I popped a note in my mental diary, promising myself I’d watch it on the big screen at my earliest opportunity. But of course, this is a Netflix production, afforded a limited theatrical release from the 22nd December, a time when I would be far from a cinema, which is why I eventually settle (once again) for watching it on streaming.

Two hours and twenty-four minutes later, I’m a blubbering wreck and fully aware that, if I’d managed to see this when it first came out, it would have been one of my top ten films of 2023, no question.

The film opens in October 1972, when a team of young rugby players, together with members of their family and some friends and supporters, are preparing to climb merrily aboard a charter plane in their home town of Montevideo, Uruguay. They are planning to make the relatively short flight across the Andes to Santiago, Chile, where they are due to play a match. But things go disastrously wrong and – in one of the most brutal and horrifying sequences I’ve seen in a long while – crashes onto a remote mountainside. 

Three crew members and nine passengers die in the impact and, for the twenty-three survivors, there’s the awful realisation that they are trapped in sub-zero temperatures, with no source of heating and just a few scraps of food foraged from suitcases.

Hopes of rescue soon fade as the planes searching for them fail to spot a trace of wreckage in the thick snow. The survivors hear a heartbreaking radio broadcast: the search has been called off until the spring. A dreadful  realisation begins to set in. They are going to have to try to survive until the weather improves. Meanwhile, they are horribly aware that the only source of nutrition available to them is the frozen bodies of their friends and family, lying just a short distance from the plane’s fuselage…

Society of the Snow is a powerful and thought-provoking account of humanity’s impulse to survive, told in unflinching detail, but it is never allowed to become merely the horror story that the media is so keen to promote (try to find an account of the story that doesn’t trumpet the word ‘cannibal’). On the contrary, it’s a testament to the team spirit of the young men who manage to keep themselves alive and motivated in that wilderness for seventy-two days, never accepting their fate, even when nature seems intent on sending them to their doom at every opportunity. 

The story is told from the point of view of Numa (Enzo Vogrincic), a charismatic young lawyer, who is instrumental in inspiring his friend, Nando (Augustin Pardella), to step up and become the team’s leader. That said, this is very much an ensemble piece, with every actor performing their respective roles to with convincing authenticity. There are some heartbreaking exchanges between the survivors and it’s at these moments that the screen in front of me keeps blurring as my eyes fill with tears.

Amidst the bleakness of the story, Pedro Luque’s exquisite cinematography explores the majesty of the location and Michael Gicchino’s score provides an emotive backdrop to the suffering and the eventual hard-won triumph of rescue. This is an immersive film in every sense of the word and watching it makes me fully appreciate the hardship and suffering that the protagonists experienced, but their refusal to capitulate to the slings and arrows that assail them is also inspiring.

Some of the films on Netflix can be underwhelming, but Society of the Snow is an extraordinary achievement and confirmation, if ever it were needed, that Bayona is an exceptional talent. Don’t miss it.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Night Swim

07/01/24

Cineworld, Edinburgh

As regular cinema-goers, we’ve experienced quite a few haunted locations over the years: haunted cabins, haunted mansions, haunted theatres. But a haunted swimming pool? I think that’s a first. And yes, I can guess what you’re thinking. A haunted swimming pool – how scary is that going to be?

So it’s to writer/director Bryce McGuire’s credit that Night Swim is genuinely unsettling. (Note of caution: if being immersed in water makes you nervous, this film may not be for you).

The swimming pool in question comes included in the knock-down price of the new property purchased by former baseball star, Ray Waller (Wyatt Russell), and his wife, Eve (Kerry Condon). Their kids, Izzy (Amélie Hoeferie) and Elliot (Gavin Warren), are understandably thrilled, mostly because – unlike me – they haven’t watched the film’s opening sequence, which depicts what happened to the little girl who lived there before…

Ray is in the early stages of a degenerative illness and struggling with the thought of not being able to play his beloved sport any more, but a doctor has assured him that swimming is the ideal exercise for him. So having the pool there is a good thing, right? Soon, Ray discovers that his regular swim sessions do appear to be improving his health, so he’s keen to dive in at every opportunity. But we know, don’t we, that in stories like this, apparent good fortune generally comes with a hefty price tag? And the two kids are starting to experience unpleasant things down in those shadowy depths.

Somehow, Night Swim never feels repetitive – and, unlike those films that beggar your belief (no way would they ever dive back in there!) – there are always convincing reasons for the major players to re-immerse themselves. What’s more, these are not the kind of 2D characters that so often inhabit films in this genre. They are well-rounded, likeable people, who we actually care about. The ghostly goings-on are at first just glimpsed or suggested, observing the rule that what we don’t quite see is so much scarier than splatter laid on with a trowel. And yes, there are expertly handled jump scares – though I’m not sure the shuddering, swooping 4DX seats at the screening we attend add very much to the experience.

This is a superior fright flick in almost every respect. Even the eventual explanation for what’s happening in the Wallers’ pool carries water (sorry). Advance reviews suggested that this film was lacklustre but for me, Night Swim keeps delivering the chills right up to its watery conclusion, without ever jumping the shark.

Hey, now there’s an idea. A haunted shark in a swimming pool! Hollywood, give me a call. I’m always open to offers. Meanwhile, Night Swim is a tight little chiller that keeps me hooked. Come on in, the water’s er… unpredictable.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Ferrari

04/01/24

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Director Michael Mann has been plying his trade since the late 60s, with varying degrees of success, occasionally coming up with pure gold with films like The Last of the Mohicans and Heat. Recently, he’s concentrated on more personal works and Ferrari is very much a passion project, something he’s been tinkering with for years, based on a screenplay by the late Troy Kennedy Martin.

It’s not the kind of biopic we might have expected, but instead focuses on a single turbulent year in Enzo Ferrari’s life(1957), when his iconic sports car company is speeding dangerously close to extinction, mainly because Enzo (a convincingly-aged Adam Driver) is much more interested in his cars winning races than he is in selling them.

Meanwhile, his domestic life is also a holy mess. Since the untimely death of his much-loved son, Enzo has become estranged from his wife, Laura (a smouldering Penélope Cruz, threatening in every scene to steal the film from its titular hero). Enzo is spending much of his spare time in the company of his mistress, Lina (Shailene Woodley), with whom he has another son. This seems to be an open secret in Enzo’s neighbourhood of Modena, but Laura is yet to find out – and there are sure to be fireworks when she does.

And then Enzo’s business manager gives him an ultimatum. If he wants to sell enough cars to save the company, he must enter – and win – the gruelling Mille Miglia road race, at the same time seeing off his main competitor, Maserati. If he fails, it will be game over.

So, no pressure.

Ferrari is a handsome production, the 1950s era convincingly evoked right down to the last detail. Despite the nominative determinism, Driver doesn’t get to sit behind a steering wheel unless you count the knackered old jalopy in which he putters around the countryside. It’s left to younger men like the ambitious Alfonso de Potago (Gabriel Leone) or old hand Peter Collins (Jack O’Connell) to climb into those vintage cars and send them roaring around the track.

The racing scenes are perhaps the film’s strongest suit, the cars screaming along country roads with such visceral intensity you can almost smell the petrol, feel the wheels juddering beneath you. Incredibly, the cars had no roll bars back then, not even seat belts, so accidents were generally disastrous. One such scene is so brilliantly staged it actually has me exclaiming two words out loud (the first of them being ‘Oh!’). In another sequence, a nerve-wracking race is intercut with scenes of Enzo at a church service, amplifying the point that, in Modena, sports car racing is perceived as a kind of religion. And I Iove the scene on the eve of Mille Miglia where drivers write letters to their partners, for all the world like soldiers about to go into battle.

There’s plenty to enjoy in Ferrari but it won’t be for everyone. Petrolheads will doubtless feel that there isn’t enough actual racing to keep them happy, while the many scenes of marital discord and the various wheelings and dealings behind the scenes can sometimes feel suspiciously like padding. But there’s no doubting Mann’s obsession with his subject and his ability to capture every detail with considerable flair.

Ferrari offers a distinctly bumpy ride, with no opportunity to strap in.

3.6 stars

Philip Caveney

One Life

02/01/24

Cineworld, Edinburgh

One Life, written by Lucinda Coxon and Nick Drake, is the true story of Nicholas “Nicky” Winton (played at different life stages by Johnny Flynn and Anthony Hopkins), the self-effacing man who orchestrated his own Kindertransport, managing to rescue over six-hundred children from Nazi occupied Czechoslovakia in 1938.

Winton never sought recognition; despite this extraordinary endeavour, he was by all accounts a resolutely ordinary man. But, fifty years on, urged by his wife, Grete (Lena Olin), to tackle the clutter in his study, he finds himself confronted by an old scrapbook, carefully detailing the names and foster homes of the refugees he helped. It’s an important artefact and Winton doesn’t want it to languish unseen in a library. The plight of the Czechs at the start of the war must not be forgotten; the scrapbook must be seen, must be used as a reminder that it’s our duty to help those in need.

Winton approaches his local press but they don’t know what to do with it. Undeterred, he calls on his erstwhile colleague, Martin Blake (Ziggy Heath/Jonathan Pryce), to see if can pull any strings and, before long, Elizabeth Maxwell is on board. From there, it’s not a great leap to the pages of the Daily Mirror, owned by her husband, and thus to wider recognition. Readers of a certain age might remember the 1988 episode of the always tonally-uneven That’s Life! where Esther Rantzen (played with gusto by Samantha Spiro) veered from tittering about nominative determinism to reuniting Winton with some of the youngsters he helped, now middle-aged and keen to meet their saviour.

But Winton was always quick to point out that he didn’t work alone, that he was just one member of a team, so I shouldn’t neglect to mention the others here. Along with Blake, Doreen Warriner (Romola Garai) and Hana Hejdukova (Juliana Moska) worked tirelessly in Prague, identifying those in need of refuge and sorting out their paperwork. Meanwhile, Nicky’s mother, Babette (a rather magnificent Helena Bonham Carter), slogged away in the UK, fundraising, finding foster families and chivvying the government.

Hopkins’ performance is heartbreaking. It’s hard to convey the inner turmoil of a quiet and unassuming man, but Hopkins makes it look easy. In his face, we see how Winton’s sadness about the children he couldn’t save clouds his whole life, even as he’s lauded for what he has achieved. Flynn is a surprisingly good physical match for Hopkins, and he perfectly encapsulates the younger Winton’s clarity and sense of purpose. The children need saving. So he saves them.

I don’t know how anyone can sit through this film without weeping. The cruelty inflicted on the Jews is breathtaking. Director James Hawes doesn’t dwell long on any one act of inhumanity. Instead, he shows us snippets of frightened faces, close-ups of guns, a family huddled together under a blanket, the thin arm of an evacuee stretching piteously towards a parent. Heightened by Volker Bertelmann’s moving score, the cumulative effect is devastating. I don’t want to believe that such evil is possible.

669 only accounts for a small percentage of those who needed help, but every one of those is a person; every one of those matters. Winton’s stoic “Save one life, save them all” mantra stands, and this clear-eyed, unsentimental film shows us why.

4.3 stars

Susan Singfield

Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget

24/12/23

Netflix

The trend for films being financed by (and galloping with indecent haste to) Netflix continues. Aardman Animations’ tardy sequel to Chicken Run is just the latest example of something that would have looked so much more impressive on a giant screen than it does on the average telly.

Dawn of the Nugget follows on from the first film with the escapee chickens living their best lives on a small island, where they grow their own food and work together as a team. Rocky (Zachery Levi, replacing Mel Gibson) and Ginger (Thandiwe Newton, replacing Julia Sawalha for less obvious reasons), are now the proud parents of an egg. This quickly hatches into Molly (Bella Ramsey), who has clearly inherited all her mother’s fearless qualities.

When workmen begin to clear some land on the other side of the water and new factory buildings are set up, Molly is eager to go across and investigate what’s going on, but Ginger urges her to be cautious. Of course she sets off on her own and, once on the far side, she bumps into Frizzle (Josie Sedgwick-Davies), a Scouse chicken who has heard great things about the new factory.

At first  it seems the twosome have discovered a place of refuge. But sinister happenings ensue before an old enemy reappears…

Dawn of the Nugget offers all the familiar tropes that the first film featured to such winning effect. No pun is left unspoken and several favourite characters make a welcome reappearance, including Jane Horrocks as the delightfully dim Babs and David Bradley as addled old rooster, Fowler.

The animation is beautifully handled and there are chases and spills aplenty, while the humour is innocuous enough to appeal to all age groups. But be warned, some viewers may find it hard to sit down to enjoy a chicken dinner after spending time in the company of this team of feathered lovelies. 

And if it seems a little late in the day to follow up that first film – twenty-three years to be precise – it matters not. This is great fun.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Priscilla

22/12/23

Cameo Cinema, Edinburgh

Priscilla

If Baz Luhrmann’s Elvis was a dazzling celebration of the singer’s career, Priscilla offers the polar opposite of that film – a true story with a dark underbelly that, viewed with the gift of hindsight, feels almost shockingly transparent. Presley emerges as a toxic human being, a man who manipulated and exploited a naive fourteen year old girl for his own purposes. 

And before you say, “Well that’s just director Sofia Coppola’s interpretation of what happened,” let me add that her screenplay is closely based on Priscilla Presley’s autobiography, Elvis and Me – and that she was one of the executive producers on the film.

We first meet her as a bored teenager on an Army base in Germany. Cailee Spaaeny submits an impressive performance in the title role, managing to convincingly portray her subject from her early teens to her late twenties. When a young officer approaches Priscilla and casually asks her if she’d like to meet Elvis Presley, of course she says yes! Like most other kids in the late 1950s, she is a big fan. And he is arguably the most famous person on the planet.

So, to the understandable consternation of her parents, Priscilla heads off to Elvis’s house and is soon chatting to the man himself, as played by Jacob Elordi, last seen being quintessentially English in Saltburn, but managing to inhabit Presley’s mumbling, brooding persona with considerable skill. The pair hit it off, big time.

When Elvis is posted back to America, a lengthy interval suggests that he may have forgotten about her but, out of the blue (and again, much to her parent’s understandable concern), she’s summoned to his new home, Graceland, where she’s invited to become a permanent fixture. No sex yet, not until she’s of age, but plenty of smooching and much manipulation from Presley, who coaxes her to change her hair, her makeup and her fashions – to become, in effect, his dream girl.

As Presley grooms Priscilla (and there really isn’t a more appropriate term for what he’s doing), so her own identity becomes increasingly erased – and who knows where it’s all going to end?

Coppola’s accomplished film is handsomely mounted, the period detail convincingly evoked over the changing decades and it’s interesting to note how cinematographer Phillippe Le Sourd keeps everything murky and claustrophobic in the film’s early stretches, mirroring young Priscilla’s view of the world she’s obliged to exist in. Le Sourd returns to the gloom in the film’s later scenes, as Presley slips inexorably into addiction to prescription drugs. In between, the screen sizzles and pops as the odd twosome actually begin to enjoy the advantages of being a couple.

Weirdly, I knew about their story from my own childhood. My sister was a member of Presley’s fan club and received a monthly magazine. In the early sixties, I read repeatedly about the man’s developing relationship with Priscilla. Of course, back then, I wasn’t mature enough to fully appreciate how profoundly creepy the whole arrangement was. Priscilla’s age was an open secret to the world but, blinded by Presley’s fame, we just kind of accepted it. Shame on us.

This is a fascinating film, one that digs a lot deeper than Lurhman’s (admittedly very enjoyable) biopic, exposing the ugly bumps and warts that lay beneath the shimmering surface of stardom. To say that it’s an eye-opener would be something of an understatement. 

4.3 stars

Philip Caveney

The Boy and the Heron

20/12/23

Cineworld, Edinburgh

At eighty-two years of age, Hayao Miyazaki, the co-founder of Studio Ghibli, has had more comebacks than Frank Sinatra. He’s been talking about retirement ever since Princess Mononoke way back in 1997, but has managed three major releases since then, not to mention a whole bunch of shorts. And now here he is once again, director and writer of The Boy and the Heron, still reaching for those impossible heights on the big screen – and mostly achieving them.

It’s evident at a glance that Ghibli continues to exert a powerful hold on lovers of quality animation. This advance IMAX screening (the film will officially be released in the UK on Boxing Day) is completely sold out, despite being in Japanese with subtitles. (We don’t mind, we prefer it that way but apparently it puts a lot of viewers off.) We’ve managed to secure a couple of seats in the very front row, the giant screen looming above us, making the whole experience incredibly immersive.

The story is loosely autobiographical, but I can only assume that this applies to the film’s almost hallucinatory opening scenes in World War 2 – otherwise I’m left to conjecture that Mizayaki had a very strange childhood! Tokyo teenager Mahito (Soma Santoni) awakes one night to the sound of an explosion and is told that the local hospital has been firebombed. He’s horrified, because he knows his mother is working there and, in a breathtaking action sequence, he dresses himself and runs frantically through the blazing city, in the desperate hope of rescuing her. But he’s too late.

A few years later, Mahito accompanies his father, Shoichi (Takuya Kimura), an aeroplane designer, out to the calm of the countryside. Shoichi is now married to his late wife’s sister, Natsuko (Yoshino Kimura), who is pregnant with what will be Mahito’s little brother or sister. Mahito soon discovers that his stepmother’s country house is a place of mystery and intrigue, serviced by a team of comical-looking… erm… grannies. But things take a darker turn when a sinister grey heron that hangs around the grounds starts talking, telling Mahito that his presence is required elsewhere…

All the hallmarks of Studio Ghibli are present and correct and they’ve arguably never looked more ravishing. There are beautiful shimmering landscapes, ancient mouldering buildings and a succession of weird, dreamlike environments that seem to virtually erupt from the screen. And there’s that brilliant technique they always employ of illustrating food so perfectly, you can actually taste it. (One scene features fish entrails, so this isn’t always a pleasure!)

Aside from the fact that this particular tale focuses on a teenage boy (Ghibli’s lead protagonists are nearly always female), it feels like classic Ghibli dialled up to 11.

If there are some shortcomings, they are in the plot. It’s not that Miyazaki’s screenplay lacks interesting ideas. On the contrary, it’s stuffed with them, so many that they virtually do battle with each other to establish authority. While it’s perfectly fine for a storyline to be complex, it shouldn’t feel over-complicated and, since some of the fantastical goings-on are opaque to say the least, I too often find myself bewildered by what Miyazaki is trying to say. The inevitable questions that arise are left unanswered and, eventually, I decide that this is deliberate.

Perhaps it’s simply a case of an elderly man with a lifetime’s experience trying to cram all of it into a couple of hours. It’s hard not to see the mysterious wizard-like figure, obsessed with balancing various pieces of polished stone on top of each other in order to ‘make the world work’, as a version of the great director himself, trying to puzzle out the enormity of his own astonishing career.

As the credits roll, I find myself wondering if I might manage to slot this film in for a second viewing – maybe even the upcoming dubbed version with a host of Hollywood talent providing the voices. The Boy and the Heron is that kind of movie, the sort that has you pondering its various possibilities long after you’ve left the cinema. See it on the big screen, in IMAX if you can. You may be puzzled, but you won’t be disappointed.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

Godzilla Minus One

15/12/23

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Believe it or not, Godzilla is fast approaching his 70th birthday. His first screen outing was in 1954 in Ishirō Honda’s titular film, which featured a man in a rubber suit, clumsily demolishing a miniature cardboard city. Over the years, Japanese company Toho Films has produced more than thirty motion pictures starring the giant reptile, but has never managed to equal the excitement of that first venture.

More recently, American studios have tried to get in on the act, expending billions of dollars in attempts to come up with a decent version of the tale, but it has to be said that, while they’ve usually managed to get the visuals up to snuff, the human elements – even when played by bankable talent – have been found wanting. So when I start hearing rumours that Takashi Yamazaki’s Godzilla Minus One is well worth seeing, I’m initially doubtful. Honestly? Hasn’t this idea been done to death?

I’m delighted to report that my doubt was misplaced. This is surely the best version of the story since it came into existence.

It’s 1945 and Japan is rapidly losing the war. Would-be kamikaze pilot Koichi (Ryunosuke Kamiki) bottles out of going through his final mission; instead, he touches down on the remote island of Odo, claiming a fault with his plane. But the crew of engineers based there can find nothing wrong with it. And then the island comes under attack from the big G, and Koichi fails to protect the resident engineers, who are all chomped to bits except for their officer, Sosaku (Munetaka Aoki), who brands Koichi a coward.

Later, in the bombed-out ruins of Tokyo, Koichi meets a young woman called Noriko (Minami Hamabe), who is looking after Akiko, a little orphan girl she has found abandoned in the devastation, and the three of them set up as a kind of impromptu family. Koichi thinks his luck has finally changed when he lands a paid job with a crew of men aboard a little wooden boat. Their mission is to detect and detonate some of the hundreds of Japanese and American mines that still litter the waters around Tokyo. At least, that’s what they’re told.

But of course it’s only a matter of time before that pesky reptile rears its ugly head again and decides to head ashore on the rampage…

The strength of writer/director Yamazaki’s film is that he’s provided us with human characters who we actually care about, before launching headlong into all that destruction. Make no mistake, the big action sequences are there, and they are suitably impressive – but they don’t dominate the proceedings. The balance between the two different strands is masterfully done and everything builds to a climax that has me holding my breath.

Be warned, despite a 12A certificate, this film isn’t really suitable for youngsters and I note a couple of families leaving early, their kids unable to handle the subtitles and the visceral action sequences. But big kids like me, who have despaired for years of ever seeing new life breathed into this franchise, should take the opportunity to check this one out on the big screen.

It may have taken seventy years but we finally have a Godzilla worth watching.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

Wonka

08/12/23

Cineworld, Edinburgh

The omens were always good for Wonka. Director Paul King and writer Simon Farnaby have already delivered two brilliant (5 star) Paddington films, but were willing to assign the upcoming Paddington in Peru to other hands in order to focus on this origin tale based around Roald Dahl’s most celebrated character. What’s more, Timothée Chalamet – who seems to have the uncanny ability to choose box office winners with ease – was signed up for the title role right from the very beginning.

And sure enough, Wonka turns out to be as sure-footed as you might reasonably hope, powered by a deliciously silly story and some sparky songs by Neil Hannon, plus a couple of bangers salvaged from the much-loved 1971 film starring Gene Wilder. Laughter, music and magic: they’re all here in abundance.

In this version of the tale, the young Willy Wonka arrives in a city that looks suspiciously Parisian (but is actually Oxford). His masterplan is to pursue an ambition he’s had since childhood: to create the world’s most delicious chocolate.

Armed with an original recipe from his late mother (a barely glimpsed Sally Hawkins) and augmented by some magical tricks he’s picked up along the way, Wonka has mastered the chocolatier’s arts to the final degree, but has somehow neglected to learn how to read. Which explains why he soon ends up as a prisoner, working in a hellish laundry run by Mrs Scrubbit (Olivia Colman, for once playing a convincingly loathsome character) and Mr Bleacher (an equally odious Tom Davis). It’s here that Wonka acquires a small army of workmates, including Noodle (Calah Lane), a teenage orphan who has mysterious origins of her own and who soon proves to be Wonka’s most valuable ally.

When he’s eventually able to sneak out and pursue his main goal, he quickly discovers that the local chocolate industry is dominated by three powerful and devious men, Slugworth (Paterson Joseph), Prodnose (Matt Lucas) and Fickelgruber (Matthew Baynton), who are willing to go to any lengths to protect the stranglehold they currently enjoy. They see Wonka as a potential threat and will stop at nothing to eliminate him…

Mostly, this works a treat. Chalamet is an astute choice for the lead role, capturing the man-child quality of young WW, whilst still managing to hint at the darker elements that lurk deep within him. Lane is suitably adorable and, if the triumvirate of evil chocolate barons never really exude as much malice as you’d like, it’s no big deal. The only real misstep is the fate of the local police chief (played by Keegan Michael-Key), who takes bribes in the form of chocolate and who steadily puts on more and more weight, until he’s almost too big to fit in his car. While this fat-shaming device may be true to the ethos of Mr Dahl, it feels somewhat out of place in a contemporary story.

And of course this being a Wonka tale there must be Oompa-Loompas, played here by an orange-skinned, green-haired Hugh Grant, who is wonderfully pompous and self-possessed, yet somehow manages to be quite adorable at the same time. As you might guess, Mr Grant is obliged to dance (again), something he allegedly hates doing. He’s used sparingly through the film but still nearly manages to steal it from under Chalamet’s nimble feet.

All-in-all, Wonka is an enjoyable family film, as bright, glittering and irresistible as a bumper hamper packed with tasty treats. It’s interesting to note, however, that I didn’t come out of this feeling like tucking into some. On the contrary, a scene where Willy and Noodle find themselves drowning in a big vat of molten chocolate actually has me feeling faintly queasy.

Nonetheless, those seeking an enjoyable couple of hours at the cinema, could do a lot worse than buying a ticket for this delightful offering, which will appeal to viewers of all ages.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney