Film Reviews by griggs

Only Angels Have Wings opens with a promising start, hinting at an exciting narrative. The first 15 minutes are filled with potential, but unfortunately, the story loses its momentum, with only a few tense flight scenes adding any real drama. Cary Grant's presence is undeniable, but his character's coldness makes it hard to invest emotionally. Jean Arthur brings some charm as the love interest, but her role feels half-baked, added as an afterthought. Her scenes with Grant lack real chemistry, and the romance feels tacked on. While the film hints at big emotions, it never really follows through, leaving it flat and quite dull overall.

Performance is a wild, kaleidoscopic exploration of identity, power, and decadence. Mick Jagger’s enigmatic Turner blurs the lines between rock star persona and character in a way that feels both natural and surreal. James Fox is equally impressive, shedding his polished, upper-class image to deliver a tightly wound, transformative performance as Chas, a violent gangster spiralling into an existential crisis. The film’s fragmented narrative is complemented by its use of psychedelic visuals, which create an immersive and intoxicating atmosphere. However, it sometimes prioritises style over clarity, making the experience more disorienting than cohesive.

Infinity Pool is a fascinating yet frustrating watch. Brandon Cronenberg’s lack of a distinct voice leaves this feeling like a pastiche of his father’s work. The premise is intriguing, but the repetitive second and third acts sap the film of tension and fresh ideas, making it feel overlong and undercooked. Mia Goth delivers another captivating performance, but the film’s structural failings make her performance feel overcooked. Despite its flaws, there’s an undeniable curiosity to Cronenberg’s approach, and while this one doesn’t fully land, I’m intrigued to see where he takes his craft next.

A wild, grotesque ride bursting with style and smarts. Michael Gambon is outrageously incredible, devouring every scene. Not for the faint-hearted, but impossible to look away—brilliantly mad and utterly unforgettable.

Matt Dillon looks too clean-cut for a guy drowning in booze and failure. Where is the mess: sweat, blood, puke and everything in between? It all feels too polished.

Bringing Out the Dead is brilliant—easily Scorsese's most underrated film. Why is it so difficult to get a copy of this? It deserves to be talked about as much as Taxi Driver. Once again, Scorsese and Paul Schrader dive deep into the gritty, sleepless underbelly of New York City, but this time through the eyes of an exhausted paramedic, played by Nicolas Cage in one of his most mesmerising performances. Cage is raw, gripping, and utterly real, capturing the mental unravelling of a man haunted by those he couldn't save.

 The film's energy is relentless, pulsing with the chaos and despair of the city that never sleeps. The neon-soaked cinematography and relentless editing pull you right into the madness, making you feel like you're right there on the streets of New York. It's a shame this gem isn't more accessible because it's the kind of movie that should be considered an all-time classic. Scorsese, Schrader, and Cage are a perfect storm here. Seek it out and immerse yourself in this cinematic experience.

Days of Heaven is a visual marvel, boasting painterly cinematography and extraordinary use of natural lighting. The unforgettable locust scene is a standout, with close-ups of the swarming insects showcasing their eerie beauty, followed by chaotic shots from their perspective as panicked farmhands scramble to eradicate them. It’s a brilliant mix of tension and artistry, but such moments are rare. The story feels thin and emotionally distant, more a canvas for the visuals than a compelling narrative. I’d eagerly awaited to see this film, but Malick’s focus on beauty ultimately prioritises prettification over substance, which left me slightly disappointed.

While watching this, I realised, much to my surprise, that I’d never seen The Blues Brothers—just one scene. So I spent two hours of chaotic car chases and musical numbers for the payoff I had already seen, disappointedly entertained.

You've Got Mail is a modern retelling of The Shop Around the Corner, but where Ernst Lubitsch brought depth and timelessness, Nora Ephron opts for polished sentimentality. The premise—anonymous correspondents unknowingly falling for each other—remains delightful, and Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan are undeniably likeable. However, their chemistry feels more familiar than electric. The film also trades heavily on reuniting the duo from Ephron's Sleepless in Seattle, though this pairing feels safer than inspired.

 However, it's hard to ignore that these are two people in long-term relationships, living with their partners, who use the internet to essentially have affairs—eventually running off together. This is perhaps the first time the internet was an enabler for infidelity on film. Ironically, despite being the newer film, it feels more dated than its 1940 predecessor. Its depiction of late-90s New York and the excitement of email is firmly tied to a specific era, making it a quaint time capsule as technology has since leapt forward. An enjoyable, if unremarkable, rom-com with questionable undertones.

For one reason or another, I missed Joker: Folie à Deux whilst it was in the cinema. Now that it’s available on home media, my curiosity got the better despite the wave of negative reviews. I knew it was a musical—so no shock there—but what caught me off guard was how dull the whole thing felt.

Yes, the musical numbers are there, but they rarely elevate the material. Lady Gaga, is criminally underused, and whilst her performance has moments of brilliance, the script doesn’t give her enough to sink her teeth into. It’s not all bad—the production design is solid, and Joaquin Phoenix is as committed as ever—but it doesn’t land as a whole. A bold idea, sure, but one that falls frustratingly flat.

This was a letdown, especially as Nicholas Ray’s debut. Given his later contributions to film noir, you’d expect something sharp, moody, and unforgettable. The visual style hints at the brilliance Ray would bring to the genre. There’s a glimmer of his knack for atmosphere and emotional tension. But the plot? Weak as dishwater. The characters are so unremarkable that you hardly care what happens to them. For a love-on-the-run story, it’s surprisingly dull and lacks the grit or emotional punch to draw you in. Ray showed promise here, but this one feels more like a warm-up than a classic.

Luis Buñuel’s The Young and the Damned is a gripping portrayal of poverty’s crushing grip on youth, delivered with raw, unflinching honesty. Buñuel’s sharp eye for human behaviour and biting social critique make this a haunting experience, blending gritty realism with moments of surrealism that feel both brutal and poetic. Its themes—violence, survival, and lost innocence—resonate deeply, drawing a clear line to the vibrant chaos of City of God. While Buñuel’s film lacks the kinetic energy and slickness of the latter, its stark simplicity hits harder. The unrelenting focus on desperation and fractured morality ensures it stays with you. Buñuel doesn’t just tell a story; he immerses us in a world stripped of sentimentality, and his immersive storytelling captivates and absorbs us forcing us to confront its harsh truths. There’s a timeless universality here, and Buñuel’s fearless storytelling proves mesmerising and deeply unsettling.

Broadcast News caught me off guard. I went in expecting a sharp, fast-paced satire, something in the vein of Network. Instead, it leans heavily into its romantic comedy elements. The love triangle becomes a central focus, which , while not my preferred pace, is handled with finesse. The performances are truly top-notch—Holly Hunter's energy is infectious, and Albert Brooks' portrayal of neurotic charm is impeccable. There are some clever moments about the ethics of journalism, but the story doesn't delve as deeply as I'd hoped. It's an enjoyable watch, but it lacks the biting edge I was expecting from the premise.

Steve McQueen’s 12 Years a Slave is a tough but essential watch. It rips down the rose-tinted view often taken with stories about the Antebellum South. Based on Solomon Northup’s 1853 memoir it tackles the horrors of slavery head-on, giving the enslaved centre stage instead of shoving them into the background. This raw honesty feels like a wake-up call to confront history without sugar-coating it.

Chiwetel Ejiofor is incredible as Northup, showing his strength, pain, and resilience in every moment. McQueen’s direction is bold and uncompromising, letting the horrors of what you see sink in without rushing past them. It’s shocking, but that’s the point. Too often, films focus on the slave owners, either trying to make them look complex or feeding into nostalgia for the “good ol’ South.” McQueen won’t have any of that, showing slavery for the monstrosity it was—and how its echoes still haunt us.

Some reviewers argue we don’t need films like this anymore, claiming it’s time to move on from stories about slavery. But that’s precisely why this film matters. Pretending the past doesn’t exist doesn’t undo its impact. McQueen’s work makes it clear that we have to face these truths, no matter how uncomfortable.

Yes, it’s a heavy watch, but it’s masterfully made. Every shot, every performance, every moment feels purposeful. It’s not just a film; it’s a reminder—one we can’t afford to ignore. 12 Years a Slave doesn’t let you look away; honestly, you shouldn’t want to.

Being There is a clever and funny film that feels surprisingly relevant today. Peter Sellers plays Chance, a simple gardener who knows nothing about the world except what he’s seen on TV. When he ends up outside his sheltered life, people mistake his basic comments for deep wisdom, turning him into an unlikely celebrity. Sellers is brilliant, making Chance innocent yet oddly charming.

The story, directed by Hal Ashby, is calm and slow, but that’s part of its magic. It’s not flashy—it wants you to think. The film pokes fun at how powerful people can be fooled by appearances and how easily the media shapes opinions.

The ending is unforgettable, leaving you wondering what it all really means. Funny, strange, and thought-provoking, Being There shows how sometimes the simplest people can reveal the silliest truths about the world. I really enjoyed every moment of it.