Rating Frames

Mickey 17: Bong Joon-ho’s Long-Awaited Follow-Up to Parasite is Amusing, Insightful and Downright Fun

March 6, 2025March 7, 2025Arnel Duracak

Mickey 17 preview screening provided by Universal Pictures.

It doesn’t take a genius to understand that a film about a guy who wants to leave on an expedition and chooses to willingly die and get reprinted (literally) with his memories in-tact, only to keep dying and being reprinted, is right up Bong Joon-ho’s alley. While that doesn’t capture the multifaceted space adventure that is Mickey 17 (2025) to nearly the full extent of the word, Bong’s interests are very particular in that, human dispensability —especially with regards to people in lower socio-economic situations— is a pertinent concern throughout his oeuvre.

In Snowpiercer (2013), a train is used as a motif to portray the various carriages of the caste system, with the back of the train being the lowest class citizens and the front, the highest class, while in Mickey 17, a large spaceship serves a similar purpose. In other words, it’s no secret that capitalism and the presence of an oligarchy are concerns that he hasn’t been shy about critiquing, and they’re a thematic consistency across his work. Regarding dispensability, Mickey 17 is much more literal than any of his previous films in how it reduces the human body to something that can be done away with, something that goes beyond even that of the lowliest of workers to just a recycled carcass.

That’s at least the seed from which the rest of the film grows and revolves around as Mickey (Robert Pattinson) signs himself up to be an “expendable” or an unfortunate soul who would choose to live a quasi-immortal life by living to die and dying to live. He does this after finding himself in bad company on Earth following a debt he hasn’t paid back, before ending up on a government spaceship headed up by a pompous failed politician, Kenneth Marshall (a goofy Mark Ruffalo whose performance echoes that of his one in 2023’s Poor Things), that’s on an expedition to find a new planet to preserve mankind — if this is sounding like Passengers (2016) mixed with Edge of Tomorrow (2014), then you’d be on the right track.

The spaceship finds itself headed towards Niflheim (not to be confused with that area in 2018’s God of War game), a cold planet inhabited by woolly creatures that look like roly polie, pill bugs (dubbed “Creepers”). It’s here that Mickey’s expendable state is really tested, as he’s exposed to the planet’s toxic air over and over again until a cure can be found and applied; it’s also where we eventually get to the 17th version of Mickey that opens the film in a scene we circle back to later. While comical in its portrayal of the printing process after every Mickey death, Bong’s commentary on how human life can be reduced so willy-nilly by those in power makes for a tasty treat, especially when it comes to just how dispensable the human body is in real life, especially when it comes to matters of war.

Bong never dwells though, he keeps the film moving and he keeps the action and dialogue light-hearted and cosy, but his ability to go a step further in his critique of capitalism and the frivolousness of those in power who look down on others, shows a director who is maturing in his own ideas and isn’t afraid to mine them to the full extent. It helps that Marshall and Gwen (Toni Collette) are so effortlessly unlikable in their bougieness which helps those ideas evolve easier.

But their relationship is hardly the most shocking: after being saved by the aforementioned woolly pill bugs (following a harsh fall in an ice cave), Mickey 17 manages to find his way back to the ship where he comes across a clone of himself or a “multiple” as they’re called. It turns out Mickey 17 was presumed dead so the 18th version of him was printed, but without his pitchy accent and more akin to Pattinson’s Bruce Wayne in cadence.

Mark Ruffalo and Toni Collette in *Mickey 17*

It also turns out “multiples” aren’t permitted, so much so that Mickey 18 tries to kill Mickey 17 from the outset, but they soon find a commonality in the form of taking down their oppressors (very much in the vein of Snowpiercer). Pattinson’s dual performance is really a make-or-break factor in understanding what makes these multiples so unique from one another — that these reprints exhibit more humanity than the majority of the crew really adds weight to just how narcissistic and morally bleak humans can be at their worst.

At the end of the day, this is easily Bong’s most optimistic film, one that doesn’t present a bleak future but offers a chance for its characters to carve a brighter tomorrow on their own terms. Sure, he isn’t subtle about his growing interest in ideas he’s previously explored, but he also doesn’t pander to his audience, choosing to let the film’s amusing story take you on a rollercoaster comprised of the grotesque, heartfelt and humorous. In this way, it feels like his most accessible film as there are no hidden windows that keep you guessing.

Mickey 17 opens nationally from today.

97th Academy Awards: Predictions

March 2, 2025March 3, 2025ratingframesau

It’s the most wonderful time of the year if you’re a cinephile, and it’s just around the corner.

Yes, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences’ Night of Nights —otherwise known as “The Oscars”— will be taking place this Monday morning, March 1st (Naarm time) and the team at Rating Frames is as excited as ever.

As they did last year, our three resident critics have made their predictions as to what, or who, will be victorious in all 23 categories.

Below are the films that Arnel, Darcy and Tom are predicting will walk away with a coveted statuette at the 97th Academy Awards, and their personal vote, in each category

Best Picture

What will win // What deserves to win

Arnel: The Brutalist // Anora

Darcy: Anora // Nickel Boys

Tom: Conclave // Dune: Part Two

Best Director

Arnel: Brady Corbet (The Brutalist) // Sean Baker (Anora)

Darcy: Sean Baker (Anora) // Brady Corbet (The Brutalist)

Tom: Sean Baker (Anora) // Sean Baker

Best Actor

Arnel: Adrien Brody (The Brutalist) // Adrien Brody

Darcy: Adrien Brody (The Brutalist) // Adrien Brody

Tom: Adrien Brody (The Brutalist) // Ralph Fiennes (Conclave)

Ralph Fiennes, nominated for his performance in *The Conclave*

Best Actress

Arnel: Mikey Madison (Anora) // Mikey Madison

Darcy: Demi Moore (The Substance) // Mikey Madison (Anora)

Tom: Demi Moore (The Substance) // Mikey Madison (Anora)

Best Supporting Actor

Arnel: Kieran Culkin (A Real Pain) // Kieran Culkin

Darcy: Kieran Culkin (A Real Pain) // Guy Pearce (The Brutalist)

Tom: Kieran Culkin (A Real Pain) // Yura Borisov (Anora)

Best Supporting Actress

Arnel: Zoe Saldaña (Emilia Perez) // Zoe Saldaña

Darcy: Zoe Saldaña (Emilia Perez) // Monica Barbaro (A Complete Unknown)

Tom: Zoe Saldaña (Emilia Perez) // Isabella Rossellini (Conclave)

Best Original Screenplay

Arnel: Anora // Anora

Darcy: Anora // Anora

Tom: Anora // Anora

Best Adapted Screenplay

Arnel: Conclave // Conclave

Darcy: Conclave // Nickel Boys

Tom: Conclave // Conclave

Best Animated Feature

Arnel: The Wild Robot // The Wild Robot

Darcy: The Wild Robot // The Wild Robot

Tom: The Wild Robot // The Wild Robot

*The Wild Robot* is a hot favourite for Animated Feature

Best International Feature

Arnel: I’m Still Here // I’m Still Here

Darcy: I’m Still Here // The Seed of the Sacred Fig

Tom: I’m Still Here

Best Documentary Feature

Arnel: Porcelain War // No Other Land

Darcy: No Other Land // No Other Land

Tom: Porcelain War

Best Documentary Short Subject

Arnel: Incident // Instruments of a Beating Heart

Darcy: I Am Ready, Warden // Incident

Tom: Instruments of a Beating Heart

Best Live-Action Short

Arnel: The Man Who Could Not Remain Silent // The Man Who Could Not Remain Silent

Darcy: The Man Who Could Not Remain Silent // The Man Who Could Not Remain Silent

Tom: The Man Who Could Not Remain Silent

Best Animated Short

Arnel: Yuck! // Yuck!

Darcy: Beautiful Men // Yuck!

Tom: Magic Candies

Best Original Score

Arnel: The Brutalist // The Brutalist

Darcy: The Brutalist // The Brutalist

Tom: The Brutalist // The Wild Robot

Best Original Song

Arnel: “El Mal” (Emilia Perez) // “El Mal”

Darcy: “El Mal” (Emilia Perez) // “Like a Bird” (Sing Sing)

Tom: “El Mal” (Emilia Perez)

Best Sound

Arnel: Dune: Part Two // Dune: Part Two

Darcy: Dune: Part Two // Dune: Part Two

Tom: A Complete Unknown // Dune: Part Two

*Dune: Part Two* is nominated for multiple categories, including Best Sound

Best Production Design

Arnel: Wicked // Wicked

Darcy: Wicked // The Brutalist

Tom: Wicked // Conclave

Best Cinematography

Arnel: The Brutalist // Dune: Part Two

Darcy: The Brutalist // The Brutalist

Tom: The Brutalist // Dune: Part Two

Best Makeup and Hairstyling

Arnel: The Substance // The Substance

Darcy: The Substance // The Substance

Tom: The Substance // Nosferatu

Best Costume Design

Arnel: Wicked // Nosferatu

Darcy: Wicked // Nosferatu

Tom: Nosferatu // Conclave

Best Film Editing

Arnel: The Brutalist // Anora

Darcy: Anora // Anora

Tom: The Brutalist // Anora

Best Visual Effects

Arnel: Dune: Part Two // Dune: Part Two

Darcy: Dune: Part Two // Dune: Part Two

Tom: Dune: Part Two // Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes

Best of 2024: Tom’s Picks

February 11, 2025March 1, 2025Tom Parry

With 2024 having drawn to a close, Rating Frames is looking back at the past twelve months of cinema and streaming releases that have come our way. In the third and final of our series of articles, Tom Parry is taking a look at his ten favourite films of the year that was.

The resilience of the medium we know as cinema truly knows no bounds. Having survived a once-in-a-century pandemic and endured the dual strikes of unions representing America’s screenwriters and performers, 2024 proved – from an artistic perspective, at least – that the industry is as strong and creative as ever, with several titles catching the eye of yours truly.

As with previous end-of-year reflections compiled by this writer, the list below is dominated by English-language and blockbuster pictures, in part due to the shortage of arthouse theatres in regional Victoria and lack of opportunities to visit Melbourne; but had circumstances been different, he is confident the structure of this list would remain much the same.

10. The Apprentice

Director Ali Abbasi envisaged this biopic would sway undecided voters ahead of last year’s U.S. Presidential Election, though as the box-office returns and subsequent vote-count suggest, he failed miserably in achieving that goal. Yet what he does succeed in doing with The Apprentice is offer an astonishing re-creation of 1970s New York; elicit uncanny, lifelike performances from Sebastian Stan and Jeremy Strong; and provide a surprisingly nuanced examination of a man whose single-minded pursuit of wealth and fame turned him into the physical embodiment of every negative stereotype we associate with his countrymen.

9. Conclave

Applying the term “mature” to a feature-length drama, for most, conjures in the mind imagery, actions, themes and language inappropriate for younger audiences; yet it can also be used to define a production which is nuanced, composed and cerebral – all apt descriptions for Conclave. Here is what can be considered a political thriller without politicians, or Glengarry Glen Ross (1992) without the excessive swearing, taking viewers behind the façade of pageantry and into the halls of power, complete with excellent performances, great dialogue and a fantastic narrative that hooks until the very last twist.

8. Anora

For the better part of a decade, Sean Baker has made it his mission to document those on the margins of American society, a pursuit that has rightfully brought him countless accolades and admirers. He may well have reached his directorial and screenwriting peak with his latest effort Anora, a film so mesmeric that it has placed within in the Top Ten of this year’s Best-Of lists by all three of Rating Frames’ resident scribes – though Arnie and Darcy both seem to have neglected mentioning the ever-delightful Igor (Yura Borisov), one of the best characters of any picture in recent years.

7. Perfect Days

Despite earning high praise at the Sydney and Melbourne International Film Festivals the year prior, it wasn’t until March of 2024 that Wim Wenders’ Japanese drama received a theatrical release in Australia. That decision flies in the face of what is a beautiful story, one that’s tranquil and almost poetic in its observations of an otherwise unremarkable man who cleans toilets for a living. Add to that the gorgeous cinematography and impeccable soundtrack, and Perfect Days pretty much lives up to its title.

6. Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story

The 72nd iteration of MIFF was the first time since a certain global pandemic that yours truly attended an in-person screening in the Festival’s namesake city, an occasion marked at The Capitol with this very documentary. Its moving screenplay – yes, tears were shed – explores Reeve’s upbringing, early career as stage actor, casting as the Man of Steel, paralysis and charity work, told via interviews with some very famous and unexpected talking-heads (Jeff Daniels! Glenn Close! Susan Sarandon!) plus unseen home-videos and archival footage. An intimate portrait that offers a heartfelt tribute to its subject while not shying away from his faults.

5. The Wild Robot

Amid Disney’s ongoing cultural and commercial dominance, and increasing competition from Sony Pictures Animation, the once-mighty DreamWorks had in recent times gone from being a pioneer of the industry to a studio at-risk of losing its prestige. That belief was immediately dispelled with the arrival of The Wild Robot, a feature-length production which not only proved a better film than any of its animated contemporaries released last year, but is also its studio’s most-impressive effort since the How to Train Your Dragon movies, complete with a talented voice-cast, stunning visuals, touching screenplay and rousing score from Kris Bowers.

4. The Iron Claw

Here lies a biographical narrative far better than it has any right to be. Distributed on our shores last January and lost in the thick of Awards Season, The Iron Claw recounts the lives of the famed Von Erich brothers, their contributions to the sport of wrestling, and the tragedies which impacted them as they pursued glory. Among its impressive elements are the cinematography, perfectly-curated rock soundtrack, and raw, compelling script that, astonishingly, had to be toned-down because the family’s actual story proved too sad and unbelievable. A must-watch, even for non-wrestling types (this writer included).

3. The Holdovers

Yet another release that made a belated appearance in Australian theatres, and unfairly so, since The Holdovers would have made for ideal festive viewing had it been brought here just one month earlier. Beneath the sardonic, caustic veneer of a history teacher (Paul Giamatti), anarchic rebellion of a student (Dominic Sessa) and remoteness of a cook in mourning (Da’Vine Joy Randolph) lies a transfixing, warm and sweet – yet never saccharine – tale embodying all the best qualities of Christmas.

2. Dune: Part Two

Arnie and myself have quite differing tastes when it comes to cinema, but on one count we are in strong agreement: the sequel to 2021’s Dune is the second-best release of 2024. Canadian auteur Denis Villeneuve provides with Dune: Part Two the Empire Strikes Back (1980) to its predecessor’s New Hope (1977), a follow-up that builds upon the lore of its established characters and setting, and pairs them with even-more impressive visuals, sound and music. Also, kudos to Villeneuve for leaning heavily into the religious allegories of Frank Herbert’s original text.

1. Challengers

The sheer number of quality pictures meant choosing this final list of ten proved much harder than in previous years, and deciding where to place the Top Five was a more difficult decision still. All came close to usurping the honour of being this writer’s ultimate favourite of 2024, yet only one prevailed – chiefly due to its flamboyance and idiosyncrasy.

Expertly helmed by Luca Guadagnino, Challengers boasts a tense, pulsating techno soundtrack from Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross; a non-linear narrative with a conflict that remains engaging throughout; fun camera angles and photography during its tennis sequences; and morally-ambiguous characters who defy the traditional concepts of a protagonist, yet never succumb to being antagonists. Put simply, there’s been no other film quite like it in the previous 12 months – and perhaps ever.

Honourable mentions: Civil War, Monkey Man, Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, Kinds of Kindness, Unbreakable: The Jelena Dokic Story

Presence Sees the World Through a Ghost’s Eyes

February 7, 2025February 7, 2025Darcy Read

Presence preview provided by Rialto Distribution.

From the outset of Steven Soderbergh’s newest cinematic experiment, Presence (2024), it is clear this gambit will pay off. As we, through the anxious eyes of a new ghost, experience a new world, through a nimble first-person lens that never relents. This new world in question is the arrival of a young family of four in a large suburban house after the traumatic deaths of teenager Chloe’s (a wonderful Callina Liang) two friends in the city, leaving them in need of a fresh start.

Beginning with one of 2022’s best films Kimi, veteran filmmakers Steven Soderbergh and David Koepp have united to create a series of impressively contemporary small-scale American films (with another set for 2025 with Black Bag), that feels wholly unique on the movie calendar. With Presence, the pair shift from tech thriller to modern ghost tale with an equally impressive lens pointed directly at the connection in contemporary life.

Through a floating visual language, we explore this young family in moments of both intimate quiet and explosive argument. The parents, high-powered exec Rebecca (Lucy Liu) and the more emotive Chris (Chris Sullivan), have clear strong ties to individual children, creating a constant tension between the four characters. Rebecca sees herself and the potential for great success in their arrogant older son Tyler (Eddy Maday), whereas Chris’ more emotional side draws him to his daughter Chloe, an isolated teen dealing with tremendous grief at a young age that pierces through the screen.

Chris Sullivan and Lucy Liu in *Presence*.

Themes of accidental overdoses and youth deaths are complicated but important issues to place in a film, particularly at its emotional core. While Presence floats freely between potential genre trappings, it is grounded by this potent story element that is sure to resonate with many.

To achieve the sensation of a first-person camera narrative that has real expression through the lens, Soderbergh — acting as his own cinematographer as he often does — filmed Presence chronologically, with the camera beginning in a more trepidatious, larval state before coming into its own by the film’s midpoint. The camera does not glide effortlessly through the house to open the movie. Instead, we feel every step as we move around the space, like a young foal taking its awkward first steps into the world. The camera has physical tics and safe spaces inside the home that, through repetition, just like an acting performance, breathes life into the lens. This deft and crucial weight of intent allows the film to quickly transcend from a small-scale cinema experiment into a riveting family drama where the absence is just as visceral.

It’s remarkable how quickly you can slide into the position as a fly-on-the-wall observer by wielding the camera this way, and how the emotion of a scene can play out with sharp efficiency (a Soderbergh hallmark) when the personification of the camera holds so much weight.

The film operates as an interesting refraction to David Lowery’s poetic A Ghost Story (2017), which focuses on a ghostly presence with a level of banal reality that transforms slowly into a beautiful understanding of a greater spiritual moment. Much like that film, the innovative style of filmmaking on hand here works effectively because of the decision to place a young ghost at the heart of both stories.

While the structure of the film allows a flow state of dramatic experiences for the family, the final 10 minutes of Presence are as distressed as you’ll feel at the movies this year with its clear eyed understanding of modern life and pressures. This shouldn’t be a surprise as it’s a ghost film, but over the course of this innovative family drama on loss and connection, this shift has an overwhelming weight of emotion that is wonderfully unexpected. Through Koepp and Soderbergh, we have a new creative powerhouse partnership that is breathing new life into modern American storytelling.

Presence is in theatres now.

Best of 2024: Darcy’s Picks

February 6, 2025Darcy Read

With 2024 having drawn to a close, Rating Frames is looking back at the past twelve months of cinema and streaming releases that have come our way. In the second of our series of articles, Darcy is taking a look at his ten favourite films of the year that was.

With a dense collection of titles with no clear standout, 2024 was the hardest year to rank recent releases in a long time. With a collection of new voices and revered personal icons, 2024 had a wide mixture of films that went head-on in tackling modern life, something that has felt lacking in the last few years. The only key omission to this list upon release is Ramell Ross’ Nickel Boys, a book I love from an exciting new artistic voice in the medium I’ve been desperate to see all year, which is releasing via Amazon at the end of the month. With that being said, I’m happy with how this list came together and hope these rankings get someone to check out a new exciting film.

10. Chime

I struggled with whether to include this short film by one of my favourite filmmakers Kiyoshi Kurosawa ahead of more ambitious titles (like The Brutalist 2024), but ultimately this sinister snapshot of reality was impossible to shake. In a year, and what’s shaping as a decade defined by crucial filmmakers reflecting on their lives and creative work, Kurosawa used multiple 2024 projects to open a dialogue with his early and defining work, even going as far as remaking his 1998 film Serpent’s Path with the same name but in the French language.

In Chime, Kurosawa continues his pursuit into modern perceptions of evil and the malice of life through a brief lens into a culinary school, with a student seemingly driven mad by a noise no one else can hear. What happens next is a remarkable level of cinematic dread that burrows deep into your skin, taking up space in your soul. Kurosawa’s ability to communicate complicated ideas within the short film format is astounding, making this film a must-watch whenever it becomes more widely available.

9. Perfect Days

In a year stacked with esteemed filmmakers returning with a work deep in reflection of their first works, none felt as complete as Wim Wenders’ Japanese-language quotidian reflection piece Perfect Days. Centring on a Shibuya public toilet cleaner, Hirayama, performed by screen legend Kôji Yakusho, Wenders’ film reflects his global curiosity and evolving perspective on humanity through humour and grace. It will be a film I return to often in the coming years.

8. Janet Planet

Janet Planet is a film that knows the smell and crunch of autumn leaves outside a family home that can define a childhood. Annie Baker’s debut work in the cinema space (after years as one of Broadway’s great unsung playwrights), inhabits the in-between with an honest curiosity.

Centring on a wonderful child performance by Zoe Ziegler as the 11-year-old Lacy and her mother Janet (a gravity-altering Julianne Nicholson), Janet Planet is keenly aware of the way a child can refract the adults around them, revealing new parts of a parent and child that is rare in its respect for both sides.

7. Red Rooms

No film crawled under my skin more in 2024, where it continues to remain. While Canadian filmmaker Pascal Plante’s Red Rooms contains no violence, it is the most violently confrontational film you’ll encounter from the last year. At once a spiritual successor to David Fincher’s The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (2011) and a keenly modern devolution of how the internet has isolated and festered our worst impulses, Red Rooms is one of the great underground discoveries of the year, a chilling interrogation into modern life through the lens of true crime, dark web violence, and modern voyeur culture.

At the front of the lens of the film is Kelly-Anne, portrayed by Juliette Gariépy as an all-time thriller character on the level of Patrick Bateman. A statuette beauty who spends her time modelling, crushing people in online poker, and obsessively attending the trial of Ludovic Chevalier (Maxwell McCabe-Lokos), a serial killer of adolescent girls who uploads his extreme violence to the dark web for those who wish to see, can. With Vincent Biron’s dexterous and compelling camera, we are intoxicated by a mesmerising oscillation between extreme unwatchability and an engrossing thriller, caught in a spiderweb where escape is too late. Achieves a lot from very little.

6. Evil Does Not Exist

The best score of the year can be found in Ryuichi Hamaguchi’s follow-up to this decade’s best film Drive My Car (2021), Evil Does Not Exist (more than halfway through the decade these lists should be beginning to solidify), with its elegiac jazz progressions that evolve into a haunting rapture from Eiko Ishibashi.

As a tale of eco-modernism that leaves room for the farcical ways contemporary metropolitan life seeks to corrupt what remains of the natural world which displays Hamaguchi’s breadth and quality as a writer. When consultants for a work retreat glamping company seek to operate within the small village of Mizubiki, they are confronted by an uncooperative community.

Like its overwhelming musical compositions, Evil Does Not Exist climaxes in a confounding but engrossing final moment that lingers and provokes long after you leave. Ishibashi and Hamaguchi are carving out a place as the composer-filmmaker collaboration which the industry should be measured up against.

5. Anora

The unexpected hit out of Cannes, making it the first American film to win the Palme d’Or since Tree of Life (2011) on top of being a Best Picture contender, Sean Baker’s eighth feature Anora is larger and broader than any film he’s made before while still capturing his uptempo yet sobering look into the contemporary American underbelly.

The modern chronicler of contemporary fringe America maintains his scepticism-bordering-on-cynicism about his homeland throughout his filmography, which is stretched to a compelling breaking point here. The internet has explained the film as a modern-day Pretty Woman (1990) by way of Uncut Gems (2019) with a Goodfellas (1990) like structure, but Sean Baker and star Mikey Madison are more interested in exploring how Ani is placed within different worlds than how the world changes her. Anora is a fully realised character that still carves out space to surprise us in moving and memorable ways.

4. The Seed of the Sacred Fig

A film with a backstory as compelling as its on-screen drama (filmmaker Mohammad Rasoulof, the cast and creatives were forced to flee during production due to a warrant out for their arrest in Iran for filmmaking that goes against the regime), Rasoulof’s The Seed of the Sacred Fig speaks generationally about the modern Iranian moment through the language of family drama and genre filmmaking.

Through the use of social media footage from a recent student protest that turned violent—surprisingly a late addition in the editing process once they had fled the country—Rasoulof creates a certain surreality that arrives through this directness. This allows the simmering political drama to expand past the confines of the narrative into an explosive condemnation of authoritarian rule. While its final tonal shift won’t be for all audiences, it complicates and transforms the film into something larger and more elliptical than its humble and understated beginnings.

3. I Saw the TV Glow

In the days since the passing of the great David Lynch, much has been made about how modern cinema has increasingly lacked this effervescent feeling come to be known as ‘Lynchian’. But with the emergence of Jane Schoenberg and their second feature, I Saw the TV Glow in 2024, that essential Lynchian sensation that has defined indie filmmaking for 40 years has returned to breathe new life into our contemporary world.

With a close kinship to Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (1992) — in contention for best film of the 90s — I Saw the TV Glow ties 90s television fan nostalgia with the dissociative world of the adolescent trans experience that is willing to go to some deeply uncomfortable depths of the soul. Schoenberg’s modern reflection of the trans experience as a Lynchian world won’t place it within the awards season conversation, but alongside the extraordinary documentary No Other Land (2024), I Saw the TV Glow is the only essential film to arrive in theatres this year.

2. Do Not Expect Too Much From the End of the World

The funniest film of the year is also the hardest to wrestle with. Rade Jude is indie cinema’s great punk rocker, throwing rotten fruit at those that need it. After releasing what will eventually be seen as the definitive Covid satire, 2021’s Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn, the Romanian satirist Jude returns to take aim at the capitalistic infrastructure of modern Bucharest, the gig economy, and the iron claw multinational corporations hold over even small production companies just trying to get by.

With Ilinca Manolache at the centre of his film as production assistant and part-time TikTok satirist Angela, Jude has the perfect muse for life in the Romanian capital, strained in every direction to get by, all for the financial security of a soulless multinational corporation, personified by a great cameo by Nina Hoss.

With its expansive 163-minute runtime, Jude holds many feet to the fire, concluding with a virtuosic yet simple long take for a workplace safety video which will prevent the families from suing the company for culpability, that both cements and brushes off its themes and frustrations like a poetic middle finger to the ruling class.

By culminating this long-form screed on modernity with a capitalistic nightmare version of Bob Dylan’s iconic music video for Subterranean Homesick Blues, with the family of a worker injured at work told to hold up blank pages meant to express their side of the story but will be written in post instead of in their own voice, Do Not Expect Too Much From the End of the World cements Jude as the modern satirist to compare all others to. No one is doing it like him, but I wish more tried.

1. All We Imagine as Light

In a deep movie year with no real standouts like previous years have had, picking a number one was exceedingly difficult. That being said, no film expanded and deepened in my mind on rewatch as Payal Kapadia’s All We Imagine as Light. I was recently able to review this film properly since its showing at MIFF left me staggered. Kapadia’s soulful rendering of modern-day Mumbai is gorgeous and a must-see while it remains in theatres.

With a refined hand through documentary work, Kapadia flourishes in small moments. Whether it’s the embrace of a rice cooker given by a distant-slash-estranged husband working in Germany, or the small gesture of helping an older colleague move her things back to her old home after being wrongfully evicted, All We Imagine as Light embraces the aching emotionality of the quotidian, knowing these fleeting moments create a mosaic that reflects the light of human experience.

Honourable mentions: The Brutalist, Ryuichi Sakamoto: Opus, Challengers, No Other Land.

Best of 2024: Arnie’s Picks

February 3, 2025February 5, 2025Arnel Duracak

With 2024 having drawn to a close, Rating Frames is looking back at the past twelve months of cinema and streaming releases that have come our way. In the first of our series of articles, Arnel Duracak is taking a look at his ten favourite films of the year that was.

While my 2024 viewings came in just short (36 new releases) compared to my 2023 viewings (37), there were a few titles that I had anticipated for a while and that really delivered to land on my top 10 list. Comparatively, I do think my 2023 top 10 was a stronger one overall, however I was pleasantly surprised to see what titles rounded off my ranking. I was also rather disappointed that I didn’t manage to catch some films at the cinema like The Brutalist, Didi and I Saw the TV Glow, however I’m hoping that 2025 will be a bigger year for my cinema viewings.

10. Blink Twice

As far as compact thrillers go, you’ll be hard pressed to find one as spicy, twisty and horny as Blink Twice.

Zoë Kravitz manages to blend just the right amount of suspense and teasing while bringing plenty of edginess and humour about through her script — and this is her directorial debut, mind you!

Channing Tatum also flips the charming sex appeal he’s come to be known for on its head by using it as a means to deliver a punchy, sometimes intense, performance.

While the film didn’t blow me away in ways that a similarly paced and executed film like Get Out (2017) did, Kravitz never lost my attention, even if the ending rounded off rather cheesily.

9. Challengers

Speaking of spicy and horny, Luca Guadagnino’s Challengers saw the phrase “sexy tennis” circulate all over social media.

It’s his second film of 2024 along with Queer (he’s had a busy year!) and it served up a hot and heavy treat, with Zendaya, Mike Faist and Josh O’Connor acting out a love triangle both on and off the court.

I don’t remember too much from the film which is probably why it’s lower on my list, but one thing that did stick in my mind was Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross’ pulsating techno score which was stuck in my head for at least a week after seeing the film.

The final sequence did also stick in my mind as being one of the most creative, well executed from last year, with zany camerawork and all around clever direction.

The film is worth a watch, especially when you hear that the great Andy Murray admitted he “didn’t really understand it.”

8. Gladiator II

Almost 25 years have passed since Gladiator (2000) took the world by storm, and Ridley Scott finally delivered his much anticipated sequel.

To Paramount’s relief, it proved to be a success, both at the box office (grossing over $400 million) and in its reviews and ratings.

As a massive Ridley fan, Gladiator II more than makes up for the sloppiness of Napoleon (2023) as it picks up some years after the first film and brings a level of freshness to the blockbuster scene now that Marvel’s reign has slowed down.

While the film does play it a bit too safe by essentially treading similar ground in terms of plot and structure to the first film, it rounds off the original with flashier set pieces and just… more… everything. I mean, sure, John Mathieson bitched about Ridley’s abruptness with shooting things without properly lighting a scene while on a podcast (no doubt a big reason he’s been able to churn out as many big films in recent years as he ever has), and sure there might be some historical inaccuracies (was the Colosseum really that flooded and filled with sharks?), but it’s Ridley Scott so that’s got to count for something?

7. Beetlejuice Beetlejuice

If you thought the length of time between Gladiator and its sequel was long, it’s been almost 40 years since Beetlejuice (1988) came out, but alas, Tim Burton’s long awaited follow up to his classic proved a success as well, raking in over $400 million at the box office.

Beetlejuice Bettlejuice takes all of the quirkiness of the first film and goes bigger at every turn. While the plot isn’t as refined as the original, Burton takes audiences deeper into the ‘Afterlife’, with production designer Mark Scruton creating a world teeming with tangible sets and props. It’s a testament to how Burton likes to work which is very much by not taking shortcuts, building out sets and staying true to the practicality from his beginnings.

Frequent collaborators Danny Elfman and Colleen Atwood are also back and do a great job reinvigorating the world through their craft. Of course, what is a Beetlejuice sequel without the man himself; Michael Keaton, while noticeably older and wrinklier, still delivers his all in just as whacky a performance as in the original.

Burton’s latest muse, Winona Ryder successor (but not replacer), Jenna Ortega, fits the bill of the director’s artistic vision and really takes her learning’s on Netflix hit, Wednesday, to deliver a sound performance.

6. The Wild Robot

With some big titles in animation popping up in the last year ranging from Inside Out 2, Moana 2, Flow and Memoir of a Snail, it was the beached service robot who took the cake for me.

While I’m yet to see the latter two of those animations, Chris Sanders’ The Wild Robot is a wholesome animation that doesn’t ram woke messaging down your throat and undercut genuine storytelling with political agendas. The film is enveloped in a coat of warmth and lets its heartfelt story of companionship do the talking.

The animation is equally unique and has a Bob Ross quality to it in how the environment is presented, with a scratchy, paint-brushy style that gives it its own flavour among some of those aforementioned films.

When a film can make you care about whether a young goose will be able to learn how to fly, I think that’s a winner.

5. Megalopolis

For anyone that has tried to review Megalopolis out there, I commend you but I don’t envy you.

Francis Ford Coppolla’s self-funded, futuristic epic became an unexpected comedy at the screening I attended along with fellow Rating Frames colleague, Darcy.

Many have written off the film as being a nonsensical, convoluted mess, but in that sentiment lies the very foundation of the film’s angle which is that shit just doesn’t make sense and the more we try to make sense of the world around us while ignoring its structural flaws, the more we fail to see the bigger picture and prevent our own demise.

That interpretation may well fall on deaf ears and others may simply say “whatever Coppolla was smoking, I’ll have some of that”, but Megalopolis is a trip in and of itself and beckons to be experienced.

4. Anora

After the success of The Florida Project (2017) and Red Rocket (2021), Sean Baker’s Anora hits like a freight train and some more. In what is an emotional roller coaster with a clever script that’s at once humorous and full of anguish, Anora caught me off guard and left me in limbo with its final shot.

Sean Baker has a knack for showing people that deserve better in life go through the motions, often coming agonizingly close to some form of a “break” from the difficult lives they lead only to have it all snatched away in the blink of an eye.

He’s a real actors director, with those helming his productions being laid bare (sometimes literally) as he gets the most from their performances. Whether that’s Simon Rex struggling as an actor before Baker gave him the reigns to struggle as a washed-up pornstar or Mikey Madison this time around as a struggling stripper who thinks she’s hit the lottery with a Russian billionaire’s son — the central performance is the make or break aspect to his films.

Anora will make you laugh, cry, laugh some more and then break you by the end, and it just leaves me craving Baker’s next work.

3. Ferrari

As a Michael Mann diehard, watching Ferrari was like a wet dream.

Mann’s films are characterised by their brash, uncompromising antiheroes, figures who are driven and work oriented, who struggle to balance the personal with the professional. It’s why when his film about automotive titan Enzo Ferrari was announced, it just made perfect sense as the next obsession for him.

While Ferrari is less brazen in terms of its set pieces, playing out more as a melodrama that’s focused on a period of Ferrari’s life, Mann’s ability to build out and showcase Ferrari’s larger-than-life status and the constant tension he manages to build until that final harrowing sequence, is just vintage Mann.

2. Dune: Part Two

Denis Villenueve’s Dune: Part Two took the learnings of the first film and doubled down on them even more to create a bigger, more expansive world from Herbert’s writing.

The fact that more happens in the second half of the book compared to the first is represented on-screen, with greater scale, jaw dropping set-pieces and just more oomph compared to the first film which prioritised more methodical, patient worldbuilding and establishing.

The Arrakis of Part Two looks incredible, with Greig Fraser once again using his eye for macro detail to shoot the deceptively beautiful sandy vistas at a high quality — earning him a deserved Best Cinematography nomination at the Oscars. That Villeneuve once again didn’t receive a Best Director nomination at this year’s Oscars is a massive miss on the Academy’s part, but Part Two‘s success at the box office and critical acclaim hopefully make up for that.

1. Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga

In what was my perhaps my most anticipated film of 2024, George Miller’s Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga blew me away, coming close to the perfection of Mad Max: Fury Road (2015).

No one understands this world better than Miller, and with Furiosa he’s gone for bigger and better at almost every turn. Looking back, my biggest fault with a pretty faultless film is that it’s still anchoring itself to the quasi-mythological Max character as its selling point (at least in the title, and towards the end). It’s hardly an issue, but Furiosa is very much a standalone piece from Miller’s original trilogy, with Fury Road even being a standalone given Mel Gibson obviously wasn’t involved in that film, and the screentime Hardy did have rendered him more a side-character to Charlize Theron’s Furiosa.

If any of that can be viewed as a shortcoming (and even I’m hardly convinced of it as I’m writing this), then Furiosa‘s high-points just took the cake for me ahead of anything else in 2024. It might be that seeing this in IMAX and hearing the roaring V8 engines in that soundscape was the cinema experience I’d be craving, but more than that, Miller’s prequel doesn’t compromise on creating a unique, new experience amidst all of the familiarity it’s bringing back to entice lovers of the previous films — Fury Road, especially.

From every car flip, gun shot and extraordinary set-piece, Furiosa is a ride worth taking and proves that taking a practical route to filmmaking wherever possible is what really creates the authentic, lived-in atmosphere that a post-apocalyptic film like this is striving to achieve.

Honourable mentions: Inside Out 2 and Monkey Man

Wolf Man takes a Bite out of a Monster Classic

January 16, 2025January 16, 2025Arnel Duracak

Wolf Man preview screening provided by Universal Pictures.

It’s been nearly five years since Leigh Whannell’s Invisible Man (2020) took audiences by surprise and became an instant hit while re-imagining a classic Universal Monsters story for a modern audience. His latest film, Wolf Man (2025), written along with co-writer and partner Corbett Tuck, and based on The Wolf Man (1941), offers a fresh new spin on another classic while touching on concerns around the duality of man and beast, sickness and health.

If Invisible Man was a compact horror/thriller that cleverly utilised space, subtle pans and tilts to create brewing tension, then Wolf Man scales things back even more, focusing its events around an eerie house in a grim Oregon, foresty setting where danger lurks. It’s where Blake (Christopher Abbott), his wife Charlotte (Julia Garner), and daughter Ginger (Matilda Firth), find themselves after a short New York-set introduction reveals that his father has passed away and he’s been left with the keys to his old house.

In true horror fashion, a tight strip of road with towering trees is the first sign of the unease and helplessness that awaits, sitting in stark contrast to the bustling, comfortable concrete jungle the family is used to. And it doesn’t take long for this little getaway to go south as their moving truck tumbles off the road after veering last minute from a figure in the middle of the road. A lot happens and it happens really quickly, including Blake’s gradual transformation into his wolf-esque appearance after he contracts a disease upon realising a cut he received on his arm came not from glass but from the devious figured that sent them tumbling.

In this way, Wolf Man is paced rather abruptly, with Whannell wanting to get you into the thick of the suspense as soon as possible. It’s a less daring exercise in tension compared to his last feature and feels more routine in how it hits genre beats. There’s nothing inherently wrong in this, it just feels like a return to earlier roots in that he could seemingly tackle something like Wolf Man in his sleep.

Ginger (Matilda Firth, right) in Wolf Man, directed by Leigh Whannell.

Unlike the subtly of the camerawork, which Stefan Duscio has managed to balance out quite nicely with Whannell’s stylish direction across their three film collaboration, the writing can feel on the nose at certain points like when Ginger indulges her father’s ‘guess what I’m thinking’ game at various points or the constant “daddy” and “mommy” dialogue which sticks out like a sore thumb.

Fortunately, like with Elisabeth Moss’ brilliantly grounded performance in Invisible Man, Julia Garner speaks as much through her eyes as she does through her mouth, with her signature fluttering eyelids at once conveying motherly resoluteness as she protects Ginger, while showing empathy for her husband’s deteriorating state. Her performance goes hand in hand with Whannell’s artful flourishes and Duscio’s tight camerawork, the latter of which seems to favour a more contemplative cinematic approach this time around, with shots that linger heavily before bursting to meet the frantic-ness of a chase.

There’s a few moments where the camera circles around Blake and his family and shows how his worsening state is affecting his vision, almost heightening his senses while blurring his vision to those around him; this is one of those stylistic choices that the film needed more of as it gave an extra layer to a character who might otherwise simply fall into the antagonist category.

While less horrific and more melancholic by the end, prior to the screening, Whannell revealed that part of the direction of the film was derived from a friend who had passed away after her health deteriorated, and just having that context added more weight to Blake’s rapid decline as his family try and keep him from falling out of himself. In this way, Wolf Man has a sentimentality about it and comes full circle in ways that will creep up on you as you feel the closing sequence nearing, with a final shot that will leave a mark.

Wolf Man opens nationally from today.

All We Imagine as Light is Unforgettable

December 26, 2024December 26, 2024Darcy Read

Screener provided by Rialto Pictures.

“I’ve lived here maybe 23 years. But I feel afraid to call it home. There’s always the feeling that I’ll have to leave.” These opening words, by a nameless individual, ring out throughout Payal Kapadia’s extraordinary film All We Imagine as Light (2024), shot against the backdrop of Mumbai, focusing on the women who inhabit it.

The most soulful film in years is also perhaps the best feature of the year, documentarian turned fiction filmmaker Kapadia exploding onto the scene with an honest and poetic portrait of humanity in modern India. A powerful blend of personal womanhood inside the political sprawled across modern Mumbai, Kapadia’s gorgeous and lyrical film centres on three multigenerational nurses navigating a world unwilling to accommodate their lives.

Centring on a pair of nurses, seasoned veteran Prabha (Kani Kusruti), and the youthful and expressive Anu (Divya Prabha), navigate an economically and politically uncertain time in Mumbai, along with older nurse Parvarty (Chhaya Kadam), who is facing eviction after the death of her husband. Prabha is dealing with the extended absence of her husband. This arranged marriage almost immediately left Mumbai to work in Germany, sending gestures to her home like a European rice cooker that only highlights the void he has left. On the other hand, Anu is attempting to balance her life while forming an interfaith romance with Muslim boy Shiaz (Hridhu Haroon), an increasingly contentious issue in current-day India.

Kani Kusruti as Prabha in *All We Imagine as Light.*

We first see Anu and Prabha on public transport on their way to work, inside the lyrical six-minute opening sequence that guides you immediately into the world Kapadia is sharing with us. Anu is asleep on her side on a train seat, demonstrating her naive sense of safety in her position while also telling the audience her level of preparedness to arrive at work. In the immediate next shot, we see Prabha, gracefully shown in a medium closeup holding onto the pole of the same train for stability (seen above). By only showing Prabha from the shoulders up here, Cinematographer and frequent collaborator Ranabir Das portrays the battle-hardened nurse in grace with the world around her, yet never settled into one place.

There is a fear this remarkable film will be lost in the awards race shuffle due to India’s increasingly conservative film body and government not submitting it for the Academy Awards, even with the film winning the Grand Prix at Cannes. This is a sad but unsurprising occurrence after Kapadia emerged onto the film scene with her 2021 documentary A Night of Knowing Nothing, also critical of India’s patriarchal system.

The sweet centre of the film lies in the blossoming romance between Anu and Shiaz, a relationship that blends religion and the modern political moment in the city. In a series of push-pull romantic moments which includes a heartbreaking yet comedic booty call where Anu must purchase a hijab to visit him in the Muslim district where he lives. Kapadia avoids easy exits with this romance, concluding powerfully with an honest and poetic moment of acceptance and beauty, tied into an honest moment of private security.

In contrast to this romance, Prabha and her complicated relationship with her absent husband fills the remaining emotional bandwidth. Born of an arranged marriage that ties her to the city she does not call her own. In the opening prologue, a resident tells us, “That’s life. You better get used to the impermanence”. In a film centred on the relationship between people and the places they inhabit, this line pangs with an honest awareness.

Divya Prabha as Anu in *All We Imagine as Light*.

A film that comes to mind while watching Kapadia’s film is Steve McQueen’s Lover’s Rock (2020) from his Small Axe series, and not just because composers Dhritiman Das and Topshe’s playful piano score could’ve fallen out of one of his films. The short and sweet feature is in contention for the film of the decade, a complicated work of desire and connection inside a wealth of sumptuous visual storytelling and guile that simply overwhelms you. Both films use colour and vivid travelogue-styled cinematography to embrace the human connection of place. What separates the two films is Kapadia’s deceptively critical eye when depicting modern Mumbai, especially the three women’s place within it.

The slow, simmering drama underneath the film’s central pair is the wrongful eviction of a third nurse at the hospital, the older woman Parvaty. Her husband has died, removing her right to live in her own home. The potency of the feminist politics that simmer underneath All We Imagine as Light is in the grounded reality of the characters’ situation, one they are helpless to improve, finding solace in their own uneasy but accepting companionship.

The film operates within two acts, the first within the city that flows downstream into its latter half as the trio of women go to the beachside village that Parvaty grew up in. Kapadia, through her documentary lens, views characters as people who have been steeped in a certain place like tea, becoming more like a place the longer you inhabit it. While Mumbai is described as a place of impermanence and instability for the characters we meet, it is only in venturing out of the rapid city do they begin to view their life and their wants more clearly. In its final moments, would Anu and Shiaz ever have the courage to meet Prabha without this opportunity outside the city? And would Prabha’s spiritual exchange with her husband which opened her eyes to what she is holding onto and what she needs to give up to change have occurred in the melancholy that followed her throughout Mumbai?

Kapadia, with a refined hand through documentary work, flourishes in small moments. Whether it’s the embrace of a rice cooker given by a distant-slash-estranged husband working in Germany, or the small gesture of helping an older colleague move her things back to her old home after being wrongfully evicted, All We Imagine as Light embraces the aching emotionality of the quotidian, knowing these fleeting moments create a mosaic that reflects the light of human experience.

All We Imagine as Light is in select theatres now.

Swinton and Moore Excel in The Room Next Door

December 24, 2024December 24, 2024Darcy Read

The Room Next Door preview screening provided by Sony Pictures.

The blurred lines between long-term friends, and lovers, and the rapid progression of time once a career begins to slow have become legendary Spanish auteur, Pedro Almodóvar’s, chief fascination in recent years, percolating and expanding in unique ways that complicate his melodramatic stories. With an extensive filmography of Spanish melodramas and knotty adult dramas spanning almost 50 years, Almodóvar is exploring a new world of cinema with his new Golden Lion-winning feature The Room Next Door (2024); his first English-language feature film and only his third work of adaptation.

After learning of a recent cancer diagnosis from an old friend, novelist Ingrid (Julliane Moore) rekindles the relationship from her youthful days at a magazine with war correspondent Martha (Tilda Swinton). In light of this diagnosis, the rekindled friendship forms a compelling inseparability, tying the melodrama to some probing ideas on the connection between relationships of all kinds and the presence of death. This friendship is immediately pressurised as Martha decides she doesn’t want to continue treatment, instead acquiring illegal medication to end her life on her own terms, in a secluded house in Upstate New York, with Ingrid accompanying her in the room next door. While not always effective as a knotty dramedy, The Room Next Door is a worthy modern entry in this new phase of Almodóvar, a singular voice in cinema.

Merging a cinematic melodrama inside of an Edward Hopper-influenced (including a centrally placed painting for maximum impact) backdrop shouldn’t sing this harmoniously, but Almodóvar makes it look like breathing. In his first non-Spanish-language feature (after his uneven but charming short Strange Way of Life from last year), Almodóvar’s passion for American literature is evident. However, the chasm between his Spanish lyricism and his English translations flitters haphazardly throughout the film. Like panning for gold in a murky riverbed, The Room Next Door contains beautifully poetic moments of humanity in the face of the end, while many other lines and whole scenes fall flat.

Tilda Swinton and Julianne Moore in *The Room Next Door*.

Luckily, the film is kept afloat by two of the best working actors and the best candidates to shepherd the Spanish auteur’s unique form of melodrama into the English language. Moore and Swinton are extraordinary together, quickly adapting to the certain quirks and manners that make Almodóvar’s style stand out in modern cinema. While the film relaxes into its story slower than his previous films, no doubt a complication from this being his first feature in English, its unique blend of offbeat humour and all-encompassing melodrama creates a luscious bedrock to lay in the sun with.

Even with the film adapted from the 2020 novel What Are You Going Through by Sigrid Nunez, The Room Next Door is a spiritual sequel to Almodóvar’s brilliant and tangly Pain and Glory (2019). While not as successful as the Antonio Banderas-led dramedy that operates achingly close to the auteur’s own life, The Room Next Door still excels in exploring contemporary ideas of loss and death in an increasingly uncertain world. In the second half of the film, fluttering between climate change doomsday scenarios brought on by John Turturro’s character Damian — an environmental academic and a previous lover of both Martha and Ingrid — and the criminal coverup necessary to keep Ingrid legally protected from Martha’s assisted suicide plan, is a rush of blood to the head, expanding this seemingly intimate story about two friends into a wider conversation about modern living. While unsuccessful in bridging this gap between late-stage friendship scenarios and the crushing weight of contemporary concerns, Almodóvar’s style still makes for an engaging and breezy ride through Upstate New York.

A final poetic choice involving Swinton’s daughter Michelle will be divisive, simultaneously poking holes at the film’s clear eyed look at death while also exploring notions of interpersonal legacy in moments of tragedy. Much like Pain and Glory, Almodóvar has given audiences a full meal to chew on for years to come.

The Room Next Door is in select theatres Boxing Day.

Sonic the Hedgehog 3 Takes the Franchise to New Heights

December 20, 2024Arnel Duracak

Sonic the Hedgehog 3 preview screening provided by Paramount Pictures

If Sonic the Hedgehog (2020) introduced audiences, both new and old, to Sega’s speedy blue gaming icon, and Sonic the Hedgehog 2 (2022) brought with it deeper lore surrounding the Sonic universe (like Chaos Emeralds and wider characters), then Sonic the Hedgehog 3 (2024) is the sum of those parts. At once taking the fun and action to new heights (literally) as well as introducing more new characters and doubling older ones up (even more literally), the third entry in this ever growing series —which has churned out three films in five years— continues the zoomy momentum by pulling out added franchise goodies and showing no signs of slowing down.

Returning to the director’s seat is Jeff Fowler who seems to have found his groove with these films, directing them like pop culture pinball machines, however the spiritual core of them resides with Pat Casey and Josh Miller whose script finds a unique blend between action, comedy and emotional intelligence that breathes life into this revered franchise for the big screen —meaning everyone can get in on the fun.

All that said, Sonic 3 is more interested in going bigger at every turn. Sonic (Ben Schwartz), Knuckles (Idris Elba) and Tails (voice acting veteran, Colleen O’Shaughnessey) are finally the trio the series has been building them out to be and face a new threat in the form of Shadow (an aptly cast Keanu Reeves), a darker hedgehog who harnesses chaos energy that renders him dangerous and unpredictable. He comes into the picture almost instantly after breaking out of prison following 50 years of controlled sedation (with more of his backstory slowly unraveling).

Shadow (Keanu Reeves) in Sonic the Hedgehog 3 from Paramount Pictures and Sega of America, Inc.

From there, the movie fires on all cylinders, with Fowler’s kinetic approach to direction and the haphazardness of the editing really coming together to keep from any real moments of respite. We get chases throughout Tokyo, a Mission Impossible esque climax in London and a battle outside of Earth’s atmosphere — it’s an accelerated experience, but one that never threatens to become anything less than mindless, popcorn fun.

Speaking of fun, Jim Carrey is the standout here, playing two characters this time around: Dr Ivo Robotnik and his grandfather, Gerald Robotnik. Carrey steals every scene he’s in and is at the top of his game as he brings his whole overzealous being into the performances, using every trick in his book of physical humour to give these characters their own special place in the Carrey-verse of whacky weirdos. Whether it’s the whimsical banter and affection Ivo shows Gerald, the grouchy, bad-Santa esque vibe that Gerald exudes, or simply the floor crawls and random dance breakouts — Carrey is clearly having a ball and is reason enough to see the film.

Jim Carrey as Ivo Robotnik and Gerald Robotnik in Sonic the Hedgehog 3 from Paramount Pictures and Sega of America, Inc.

There are other returning faces as well, namely in the form of Tom (James Marsden) and Maddie (Tika Sumpter), but like the humans in the latest spate of MonsterVerse films, they’ve really become more like a distraction rather than an addition to proceedings. Fowler uses Tom as an emotional bridge between Shadow and Sonic, to show they’re both fighting for the same thing (those they love, or the memory of those they love), but the film is at its boisterous best when it focuses on the fun and games.

For a trilogy of films that started off on the wrong foot with that atrocious initial Sonic design, to see just how well it’s recovered and continues to be received is a testament to the heart that Fowler and the rest of the cast and crew have poured into the franchise. Whether you take a liking to the Sonic universe or are just looking for something to see over the holiday season, Sonic 3 is the perfect family film with enough humour to not feel overbearing and enough action to keep you on the edge of your seat.

Sonic the Hedgehog 3 spins into cinemas from Boxing Day.