Wolf Man takes a Bite out of a Monster Classic

Rating: 3 out of 5.

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.

Sonic the Hedgehog 3 Takes the Franchise to New Heights

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

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.

Mufasa: The Lion King is a Serviceable Origin Story

Rating: 3 out of 5.

Mufasa: The Lion King preview screening provided by Disney

When word first came that Barry Jenkins’ next project after his hit mini-series The Underground Railroad (2021) would be an origin story about Mufasa from The Lion King (1994), it’s safe to say that there were some brief head-scratch moments. After all, Jenkins hasn’t really had a miss in his filmography and there are always doubts when it comes to beloved IP taking similar or new directions. Mufasa: The Lion King (2024) is no Moonlight (2016), but it does offer a new light on one of Disney’s most celebrated animated characters, bringing his story (even if James Earl Jones’ iconic voice is no longer with us), to life on the big-screen.

From early on, it’s safe to say that Jenkins didn’t really have too much leg room to stretch out to, with the world of Mufasa being rooted in the Pride Lands of Africa. In that sense, his options were clearly limited in terms of scope and the type of origin story he could tell about a lion rising up through the ranks. In this way, Mufasa takes a bite out of The Lion King‘s notebook by focusing on a tragic event in the form of a flood (told through a flashback sequence by John Kani’s mandrill, Rafiki) that would shape cub Mufasa and inform his life thereafter.

In the same way that his son Simba (Donald Glover) would be forced to reconcile with his situation of loss, Mufasa (Braelyn Rankins, later Aaron Pierre), too, is adopted, not by a warthog or meerkat but by a new pride some distance away from his old one. Key to his success in being accepted in that pride are Taka (Theo Somolu, later Kelvin Harrison Jr.) and his mother Eshe (Thandiwe Newton), much to the disdain of their father and husband Obasi (Lennie James), respectively.

(L-R): Taka (voiced by Theo Somolu) and Mufasa (voiced by Braelyn Rankins) in Disney’s live-action MUFASA: THE LION KING.

What ultimately tests these lions’ ability to act as a cohesive pride is a competing white pride of lions, led by Kiros (Mads Mikkelsen). It doesn’t take long for Taka and Mufasa to find themselves on the run, though, as they seek out Milele — a land deemed a fantasy. This journey between the step lions is where Jenkins aims to mine the emotional core of the film, testing the strength of their relationship by throwing in a love triangle with a lioness, Sarabi (Tiffany Boone), and really looking to flesh out what it means to be a “king”, whether it’s a birth right or something to be fought for and earned.

This brotherly tussle is what really holds the film together during moments where it threatens to nosedive, especially in the late second act as it brings in twists and starts to lay the groundwork for motives in The Lion King. The biggest hurdle, however, in a film about life-like lions who talk and sing, is building that connection to these characters, a shortcoming that marred Jon Favreau’s 2019 remake. As far as the technology has come since Favreau’s film, photorealistic lions just don’t have the same expressiveness as animated ones, especially when you consider the 1994 animation has aged gracefully while the 2019 remake hasn’t, and it’s only been five years.

Lin Manuel Miranda also seemingly swapped Moana 2 (2024) for Mufasa, with songs that are identifiable to him but similarly to Moana 2, fall short in creating memorable moments that will stick in your mind.

(L-R) Mufasa (voiced by Aaron Pierre), Young Rafiki (Kagiso Lediga), Taka (voiced by Kelvin Harrison Jr.) and Sarabi (Tiffany Boone).

The added element of having Rafiki do a retelling can also feel jarring at times, especially as it pulls you out of the story he’s trying to recite which interrupts the flow and pace. Most of us know what happens to Mufasa and who Taka eventually becomes, so that’s the least surprising thing about this film, but keeping us anchored to their journey and to the vistas of the Pridelands would have saved the filler scenes from being exactly that.

The Lion King‘s idea of the circle of life is about finding balance and harmony, something Jenkins’ film takes and glosses over in a similar light by creating a state of imbalance and power struggles that have to be overcome. In fact, most of Mufasa is a gloss over, sometimes for better (the visuals are still more refined than its live-action predecessor) and sometimes for worse (the retreading of old ground amidst the new ground covered, a shortcoming Moana 2 also suffers from). As a prequel, Mufasa makes sense (even if Jenkins’ involvement is bemusing) and it gives a welcome insight into one of Disney’s most beloved characters, coming full circle in the process.

Mufasa: The Lion King opens nationally from the the 19th of December.

Moana 2 is as Endearing as the Original but Suffers from Sea-quel Sickness

Rating: 2.5 out of 5.

Moana 2 preview screening provided by Disney

Upon rewatching Moana (2016) the other night, I was reminded just how special a place that film occupies in Disney’s catalogue of releases: it both captures and celebrates Polynesian culture so sincerely while at the same time offering a fresh spin on Disney’s heroine-oriented stories by avoiding becoming another princess film with tropes we’ve seen countless times over. Moana 2 is fine, but I found myself scratching my head throughout, not because I felt like there wasn’t an interesting adventure to be had, but because this adventure feels like it has been had.

After a thick-of-the-action opening where we find Moana (Auli’i Cravalho) scouring a cliff face in search of signs of other tribes and people, it doesn’t take long for the sea to once again call Disney’s beloved Polynesian not-princess, to its aid. There are no Lin-Manuel Miranda tunes to propel her forward this time around, with the Hamilton creator opting not to return for a second stint, but rather a vision from an ancestor that shows a new destiny — to seek out a lost island that would connect all the peoples from the near beyond.

To do so, she will have to overcome an ancient god, Nalo (Tofiga Fepulea’i), who has put a curse on the island, but first she has to find it. Of course, it wouldn’t be an adventure without her trustee demigod buddy Maui (Dwayne Johnson), who has found himself entangled in his own mess and needs saving. The duo will see themselves accompanied by old and new crew members alike, like the single brain-cell chicken and her porky friend.

Still from Moana 2

As sequels tend to go, bigger always seems to be the preferred option, otherwise you’re just treading old ground, right? While going bigger is what Moana 2 naturally has to do, what makes the first film so special is that it is an intimate film of self-discovery, of venturing into the unknown and realising your destiny. In expanding the second film, both in terms of characters and action on the screen, Dana Ledoux Miller, Jason Hand and David Derrick Jr.’s film sacrifices intimacy for a more generic storytelling approach.

That’s not to say that Moana 2 isn’t filled with thrills and spills: there’s a wider array of monsters, the set pieces are more rampant, the animations are the highlight as always, and there’s just more happening on the screen. Moana has also embraced the wayfinder lifestyle and doesn’t hesitate to seek out adventure, so there has been deeper character development on that level. It makes sense from a storytelling point of view to throw her into the deep end and have more to do and overcome. However, I couldn’t help but feel that that’s not what this story needed, especially when the first film was such a perfect standalone that at once pulled at your heartstrings but would also throw in a Jermaine Clement crab curveball every now and then to keep you on your toes and smiling where it counts.

The biggest fault in a film about going bigger and louder is that it’s often looking back to do so. Most of the humour banks on similar punchlines to the first film like constant cutaways to the chicken either picking at something or screaming, while the songs themselves by Abigail Barlow and Emily Bear don’t have the same flair or catchiness to Miranda’s, even though they’re very much striving to land in the same way. Kakamoras (those cute little coconut people) once again make an appearance, and it’s one of the better highlights of the film as they team up with Moana and co to take down a large clam-shaped mountain. In trying to offer something new, the directors have looked back in large part, and when they have offered something new, it hasn’t left a lasting impression.

Maui (Dwayne Johnson) in Moana 2

One such new offering is the villains (if we can call them that) with Nalo, and to a lesser degree Sina (Nicole Scherzinger). They’re two characters who serve less as villains and more as obstacles to overcome, and they’re offered little development and motive, with Nalo in particular whose whole shtick is he hates Maui and humans and wants to keep the island of Motufetu away from their grasp.

Moana 2, like most of Disney’s films, is a children’s movie first, one with adult themes that cater to audiences young and old, second. The child in me was having a ball for the most part, but also trying to find something to cling onto beyond the fun and games (or that second part), and that’s been my general sentiment towards some of these films in recent times. With the cliffhanger the film ends on (make sure to stay for the post-credits scene!) the second film always felt like a shoehorn for more to come, especially with a live-action remake of the original in the works. While I’m always dubious about such directions, the Moana IP is still rife with joy and potential, and it’s always a pleasure to see Polynesian culture still continue to be represented and resonate with audiences.

Moana 2 opens nationally from the 28th of November.

Gladiator II Continues the Original Story with Bigger, Wilder Action

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

Gladiator II preview screening provided by Paramount Pictures

Some might say that retracing your steps is a copout, a way of looking back rather than forward. It’s why a film like Blade Runner 2049 (2017) is just as revered as the original, because it went with a new direction courtesy of Denis Villeneuve while remaining faithful to the ethos of the original film. But in the same way that JJ Abrams treaded old ground while elevating the look and feel of an iconic IP with Star Wars: The Force Awakens (2015), so too does Ridley Scott in Gladiator II (2024), his sequel to his critically acclaimed Gladiator (2000).

Gladiator stood out for many reasons, not least because it won Russell Crowe a rightful acting Oscar, but it also represented the merging of the old with the new, practicality with increased digitisation. It paved the way for films like Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy and Gore Verbinski’s Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy, films that we now look back on with reverence because of how they combined scale (in setting, in action etc.) with those close, intimate moments of characterisation and the human condition.

Gladiator II doesn’t stray too far from the path of the original film, going so far as to retain the meagre visual effects, but it speaks to an era of filmmaking that caught audiences by surprise for all the right reasons.

Scott once again transports audiences back in time to arena battles, slave trading and overly pompous rulers. There’s no Maximus anymore but his presence is still felt. It’s Lucius (Paul Mescal), however, who, after attempting to defend his home in Numidia before it’s besieged by Roman battle ships, finds himself back in Rome as a captive years after fleeing from those who would have seen him killed.

Denzel Washington as Macrinus in Gladiator II.


Lucius, like Crowe’s Maximus but via different circumstances, is forced to reconcile with his destiny to restore order back to a Rome that’s being ruled by two incompetent emperors. It takes some time to get to that point though as he’s put through his paces in a brutal bout with enraged CGI baboons, impressing a slave trader in Macrinus (Denzel Washington) who buys him for his prospects in the gladiator arena.

If that all sounds familiar it’s because Scott has repurposed the plot of the original film and doubled down on everything from flashier set pieces to a wider array of production elements and even more CGI. There’s a great deal of fan service in this film in the same way that the aforementioned The Force Awakens or even Alien: Romulus (2024) cater to returning audiences.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with this approach, especially when an actor like Washington revels in his snakey, almost Baelish-Game-of-Thrones-esque approach to proceedings while delivering lines like Robert McCall if he lived hundreds of years ago (“gimme the bow”) — you just can’t quite read him. Even more than that, this genre of filmmaking is Scott’s bread and butter to the point where, regardless of its historical inaccuracies (sharks in the Colosseum anyone?), it never feels like he’s trying to outdo his past film, but give you more of the same.

Paul Mescal as Lucius and Pedro Pascal as Marcus Acacius in Gladiator II.


The biggest fault in a film about a man who’s lost it all and is coming back from the brink is that you need to be able to buy into his cause and feel his emptiness. While Mescal has cashed in some really soul-tugging performances like in Aftersun (2022) or All of Us Strangers (2023) he doesn’t command the screen with the same gravitas that Crowe did. It helped that in the original, Joaquin Phoenix delivered just as compelling a performance as Commodus and was given ample screen time to have you loathe him just as much as Maximus did.

This time around, you have whiny emperors, a slowly unraveling Macrinus, and a misunderstood General in Marcus Acacius (Pedro Pascal). In this way, Lucius’ battle is spread across characters who are also in one way or another, battling each other. As a result, the stakes don’t feel nearly as big as the scale of the rest of the film, as great as it is to see these various storylines and plot lines interconnect and clash.

There’s a lot going on this time around whereas the screenwriters of the original, (David Franzoni, John Logan, and William Nicholson) spent more time exploring who Maximus was and giving him that more refined arc that makes him so iconic to this day. The same can’t be said for David Scarpa’s script as it does lack the deeper exploration of character needed to get you that aforementioned buy-in. This is a Ridley Scott film, however, and what’s never lacking is a memorable time or several key memorable moments; it’s all the same at the end of the day, so there’s no need for another rhetorical “are you not entertained”, it’s enough for Scott to leave you entertained.

Gladiator II opens nationally from the 14th of November.

Joker: Folie à Deux Treads Familiar Territory to its Predecessor

Rating: 2 out of 5.

Joker: Folie à Deux preview screening provided by Universal Pictures.

When word came out that Todd Phillips’ sequel to his box office hit, Joker (2019), would take the form of a quasi-musical for large parts, intrigue with a sprinkle of hesitation was coursing through the veins of pop culture discourse. After all, Phillips’ track record with sequels, namely the Hangover sequels, isn’t exactly the most compelling; but when you’ve got Joaquin Phoenix helming your film, anything is possible.

It wasn’t until news of Lady Gaga’s involvement with the sequel, however, that interest really started picking up. Here’s a director who’s landed arguably the greatest actor of his generation for a second roll of the dice, AND he’s got one of the biggest pop stars in the world as well? Well, If A Star is Born (2018) was a recipe for success, Joker: Folie à Deux was practically a delicious dish waiting to be served.

And to be fair, that intrigue carries into the first 20 or so minutes of Folie à Deux, with the events of the first film where Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix) blew out the brains of a hit late-night talk-show host live on TV, permeating. Arthur is now a martyr of sorts to other troubled minds, with a TV movie charting his killings earning him far reaching recognition, however he’s also in Arkham Asylum and hardly reaping the benefits of his infamous status.

It’s in these first 20 minutes that Phillips also sets the stage for Arthur’s eventual relationship with Harleen ‘Lee’ Quintal (Lady Gaga), an arsonist who catches Arthur’s eye from within the prison’s singing group for inmates. After Arthur is enrolled in the class by a brutal prison guard (played by the legendary Brendan Gleeson), it’s easy to see where this thread is going.

Whether or not Lee is drawn to the real Arthur or his alter-ego Joker, is still relatively vague at this stage, but it’s a concern that Phillips leans on for a majority of the film’s tension — the distortion between reality and fantasy. The idea of unpacking where Arthur Fleck ends and where the Joker begins is an interesting one, if it wasn’t already so fleshed out in the first film.

(L to r) JOAQUIN PHOENIX as Arthur Fleck and LADY GAGA as Lee Quinzel in Warner Bros. Pictures’ “JOKER: FOLIE À DEUX,” a Warner Bros. Pictures release.

It’s also what the film’s many jazzy musical numbers serve to emphasise, as they speak to Arthur’s attempt to cope with and manage the reality he’s been dealt and the fantasy he’s created for himself. Oftentimes I found myself at odds with these numbers, where at once they offer little glimpses into the psyche of a self-absorbed psychopath, but also act as distracting detours that seem to be the only opportunity to give Gaga some leg room to do… well… anything (though I’m mindful this is a film about the titular character and not the Harley Quinn show).

These numbers become even more prevalent as the film kicks into the second act where Arthur is on trial for his murders, as the jury seeks to determine whether he’s downright insane, or playing things up for show — essentially the film’s primary concern. This whole courtroom drama, second act overstays its welcome, with drawn out nothingness that reminded me of just how well other film’s manage similar situations (like 2023’s Killers of the Flower Moon). Phoenix gets some brief moments to lean into his even thinner physique, but beyond that this whole middle section feels like its treading old ground that the first film already established and resolved.

The brilliance of the Joker character in the DC universe has tended to shine through his caped crusader counterpart. It’s why Nolan’s version of Joker is so memorable, because he feels like a larger than life presence — something that’s earned in those films through methodical world building. In Folie à Deux, Arthur is contending with himself for a large majority of the film, trying to redeem himself in parts while succumbing to the voices within, in others. For such a big film, in this way it feels rather small which comes at the expense of the sort of substance you might expect from a film about such a recognisable character. As a result, a lot is banking on Phoenix’s performance to carry the often dull moments, but the shock factor of seeing him embody the character in the same way he did in the first film flies out the window this time around, so the shortcomings in the script are more noticeable.

While reducing the scale and confining audiences to Arthur’s world is a welcome subversion to what audiences might expect, it comes at the cost of an entertaining narrative. There are no mind blowing set pieces or scenes that build momentum into something; the biggest moment of the film comes rather late on, and even then it closes itself up faster than it opened (which will make sense as you watch the movie). Arthur —and by extension, the Joker— is relegated to the sidelines: he poses no palpable threat in the same way he did in the first film, and as a result the stakes don’t feel nearly as significant because he’s contained. Whether or not that’s a satiating enough angle for audiences by the time the credits roll is hard to say, but you may be left hungry for more.

Joker: Folie à Deux opens nationally from today.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice: Tim Burton Turns Back the Clock with a Nostalgic Sequel

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice preview screening provided by Universal Pictures.

Whether you like him or not, mesh with his unique aesthetic or run the other way, Tim Burton occupies a space in modern cinema that he’s carved from consistency: in strangeness, in the casting of brilliant oddballs, and in retaining his trusted collaborators. It’s a big reason why Beetlejuice Beetlejuice (2024), his follow-up to the now classic Beetlejuice (1988), is such a breezy experience at the cinema, one that picks up effortlessly from where its predecessor left off, and feels just as fresh and alive as it did 36 years ago.

It’s all the better, in fact, with this sequel using the foundations established in the first film and elevating them to a level of zaniness and tomfoolery that only Burton is capable of. Beetlejuice Beetlejuice plays out like a celebration of its predecessor, one that’s well thought out and that doesn’t feel like it’s had to reinvent itself for a modern audience. That’s in stark contrast to Burton’s attempt at Dumbo (2019), a film that from the outside looked like it was marred by too much intervention and creative oversight by Disney to the point where it felt like two visions clashing, with the result being a pretty mess.

Burton’s return to his own fabled creation has the opposite effect, showing a director who’s at ease and in his element, as though he needed a reset by returning to something so beloved to find his groove again. The title sequence attests to this, with a sweeping overhead shot of the town of Winter River that’s almost identical to the one he utilised in the first film; it’s a familiar, nostalgic sight, with most of the film leaning on callbacks to the original to appeal to audiences both old and new.

(L-r) WINONA RYDER as Lydia and MICHAEL KEATON as Beetlejuice in Warner Bros. Pictures’ comedy, “BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE.”

From the overhead shot, we land on Winona Ryder’s Lydia Deetz who’s now hosting her own show on paranormal horrors as though this was an episode of Ghost Hunters. She’s still just as quirky as in the first film, but is also much more on edge as she’s clearly still haunted by her own encounter with Beetlejuice (Michael Keaton) many years ago. It could also be that her overly sleazy TV-producer boyfriend, Rory (Justin Theroux) is right up in her business trying to solve her problems the moment she gets a bit jittery; or even that her own daughter Astrid (Jenna Ortega) ignores her texts and doesn’t believe her ghost obsessions.

The truth is, it’s a mix of those things, but especially the former. Beetlejuice’s presence is still felt by the characters of the first film, including Delia (an ever so comical and hilariously bougie Catherine O’Hara), but he’ll play a key part in helping them deal with the film’s wider threats, including an old flame of his, Delores (aptly played by Monica Bellucci), who’s stapled herself back from the dead and wants revenge.

That’s not the least of the backstory that Burton traces through, with the first 25 or so minutes of the film introducing and reintroducing the film’s characters. Others include Wolf Jackson (Willem Dafoe), a dead-actor-turned-detective in the Afterlife who’s full of wits as he’s tasked with tracking down Delores, treating his job like a performance in the process. The standout of the newcomers is of course Ortega who, after her success with Burton’s hit Netflix show Wednesday, slots effortlessly into the director’s zanny world. Her chemistry with Ryder is a revelation, with their pairing singing the tune of the film and its theme around reconciliation and the bond between a mother and daughter.

(L-r) JENNA ORTEGA as Astrid and WINONA RYDER as Lydia in Warner Bros. Pictures’ comedy, “BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE.”

The Afterlife itself is just as teeming with (dead) life, and looks just as vibrant and charming as it did all those years ago. It’s a testament to production designer Mark Scruton’s eye for detail as he decorates this setting with even more personality and character through his whacky designs. In fact, all of Burton’s collaborators are on their A-game, especially his regulars; Danny Eflman’s score has an ethereal quality that is reminiscent of the heyday of this genre of film, while costume designer Colleen Atwood once again dresses the cast to impress, to the point where one’s eye is naturally drawn to all characters lurking in the background.

There’s rarely ever any wasted space in a Burton film which is something that all filmmakers working in tight runtimes should aspire to. Every frame feels well thought out, every gag is executed cleanly and every prop feels like it’s just where it needs to be. Keaton has more screen time this time around as well, but everyone gets a share of the spotlight. There’s even time for a Chucky-esque demon baby-Beetlejuice, a room full of awkward Bob-like, small-headed, big-bodied beings, and a ‘Soul Train’ that —befitting to its name— transports soul musicians (and has wider implications in the plot). It’s a film that feels like it was made for the 80s gothic B-movie scene, was somehow never shown the light of day, but was unearthed at the right time.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice opens nationally from the 5th of September.

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga: George Miller’s Return to the Wasteland is just as Chaotic and Fun as Ever

Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

Melbourne premiere screening provided by Universal Pictures

How does one follow up one of the greatest action films of all time? In George Miller’s case, he doubles down: double the car chases, double the explosions, double the chaos, double what’s happening in the mise-en-scene, and double the fun. But Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga should not be seen as an attempt to outdo Mad Max: Fury Road (2015), even though it speaks (sometimes explicitly) to the idea of making something epic and memorable, as though that wasn’t already achieved with the sequel.

Tonally, visually and sonically, Furiosa is on par with Fury Road which makes complete sense for the simple reason that it’s a prequel that’s there to compliment, and there’s not someone else in the director’s seat to screw it up. It’s clear that Miller went with a ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ mentality when approaching this film, and the result is all the better for it. The biggest deviation to be felt in Furiosa is that, while it lives in the universe of Mad Max, it isn’t about him. In fact, Fury Road wasn’t exactly about him either, with these two films carving out their own place as post-apocalyptic, operatic action epics with larger-than-life stakes beyond a bloke called Max. But nonetheless, Furiosa is the character we follow and the focal point that guides our understanding of where Fury Road begins and ends.

Taking place across five chapters, Furiosa opens with the titular character (played in youth by Alyla Browne) in the green haven she attempts to return to throughout Fury Road. After noticing bandits ravaging through the haven, she tries to sabotage their bikes and alert the rest of her people of their presence; unfortunately she’s captured in the process, leading her mother (Charlee Fraser) to give chase. Eventually, Furiosa is brought to the bandits leader, Dementus (Chris Hemsworth), who is looking for his own means of survival along with the rest of his pack of bikers.

Chris Hemsworth in Warner Bros. Pictures’ action adventure “FURIOSA: A MAD MAX SAGA,” a Warner Bros. Pictures release.

It’s from here that Miller reintroduces familiar aspects from Fury Road, namely Immortan Joe (Lachy Hulme) and his goofball sons; Immortan’s white army of War Boys; and the Citadel. The first hour or so of the film focuses on Furiosa’s navigation of this space after she finds herself a captive of sorts (for reasons I won’t spoil). Alyla Browne does a fantastic job at setting the foundations of Furiosa’s arc to the point where, when Anya Taylor-Joy eventually takes the reigns after an hour, it’s not immediately apparent because of how alike the two actresses are with their pronounced blue eyes and Miller’s focus on framing them in tight close-ups.

Once Taylor-Joy is at the helm, Miller throws her into a extended chase sequence with Praetorian Jack (Tom Burke in a minor, but effective role) onboard an oil tanker, the War Rig. It echoes the chase from Fury Road where Furiosa deviates from her oil run to Gastown, but here Miller is much more interested in stretching the tension out as much as possible, almost to breaking point. It really speaks to his penchant for destruction and his eye for detail, where every nook and cranny of the truck, gears and all, is on display and pushed to the limit.

It takes some time to buy into Taylor-Joy’s performance, namely because it feels like she trying too hard to fill Charlize Theron’s boots rather than carve out her own little space for this character. Theron’s commanding screen presence, particularly the way she carries herself, is ultimately too pronounced for Taylor-Joy — she even tries to mimic her cadence of speaking — and subtlety is more effective here (which Browne brings). But Taylor-Joy does offer a level of vulnerability through her enchanting eyes; in this sense it’s easy to see why Miller might have chosen her as the lead.

Tom Burke as Praetorian Jack and Anya Taylor-Joy as Furiosa in Warner Bros. Pictures’ action adventure “FURIOSA: A MAD MAX SAGA,” a Warner Bros. Pictures release.

Hemsworth, by contrast, steals every scene he’s in, even when he goes missing for some stretches of time. Where the Thor films misplaced his larrikin humour (often at the character’s expense), Miller gives him the freedom to lean into it in a way befitting a character with a name like Dementus. His brute physique coupled with his nasally way of speaking gives Dementus a memorable edge, especially with all of the quotable lines he’s given.

Adding to the grandiose and scale of what’s on display is the fact that the Wasteland’s harshness is felt to an equal (if not greater) degree than in the first film. The addition of locations hinted at in Fury Road, like the aforementioned Gastown and Bullettown, adds weight to the stakes at play. There isn’t just more for the sake of having more, but rather Miller deliberately leaves no stone unturned and paces his film like the War Rig barrelling down a stretch of road — there’s no room for respite, you just brace yourself and try to hold on for the ride.

For what it’s worth, it’s a gorgeous ride to be had, with the visuals once again being enveloped in this orange, grainy tinge. Where in Fury Road the colours felt less saturated, there’s a much more surreal, darker quality this time around.

This is ultimately a film about Furiosa though, and her story never feels like it’s compromised or diluted for the sake of brandishing all of the fun and games that audiences will expect. Miller is a master at knowing how to capture human plight and not let it be overshadowed by the scale of his pictures. The human element of his films and this portrayal for struggle is what intensifies every car flip, gun shot and extraordinary set-piece, which is why it’s even more commendable that in a film full of incredible moments, Furiosa never loses sight of Furiosa.

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga opens nationally from the 23rd of May.

Three Mad Max Theories that Change How You See the Franchise

Of all the cultural exports to emerge from Australia, arguably none is more widely recognised or celebrated than the Mad Max film series. These post-apocalyptic, dystopian tales have inspired praise and enthusiastic fan-bases the world over, from Asia to the Americas, all enamoured by the franchise’s idiosyncratic characters, punk-like aesthetics, and high-octane action sequences.

This popularity is quite remarkable when one considers the franchise’s humble origins. The initial Mad Max (1979) was conceived by its director, George Miller — a qualified surgeon — as a means of highlighting the impacts of road trauma, with the hallmarks for which the series is most-widely known not being introduced until its sequel, two years later. And even then, it is never directly stated nor explained why, or how, Max’s world operates the way it does.

This mystique has led to several theories from cinephiles, some of which help explain discrepancies that have emerged in the franchise’s four-picture, five-decade history. With the latest film in the long-running saga, Furiosa set to reach our screens this week, we’re sharing three of our favourites. Spoilers follow!

Max is Dreaming
Max Rockatansky (Mel Gibson) as he appears in the final moments of the first Mad Max

This first theory postulates that our main protagonist, Max Rockatansky is imagining the events which occur in the second, third and fourth entries in the series, and stems from what transpires in the first picture. As a reminder: Max (Mel Gibson) loses his best mate, Jim “Goose” Rains (Steve Bisley), wife Jessie (Joanne Samuel) and infant son Sprog (Brendan Heath) to the violent hands of a rogue biker gang, led by The Toecutter (Hugh Keays-Byrne).

The argument here is that Max, having been distressed by the loss of those closest to him, becomes listless and descends into madness — hence the title — by entering a fantasy world of his own creation, one where he gets his revenge on Toecutter and his minions. From there, he visualises himself as a champion of the oppressed, committing vengeance against those who dare to stymie the peaceful will of others.

Applying the Caligari-esque mentality of it all being a dream may appear juvenile, but there are some elements which help provide credence to this belief. Note how, for instance, the respective plots of Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior (1981), Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome (1985) and Mad Max: Fury Road (2015) all have Max entering a cult as an outsider, becoming their leader in all but name, and defeating their oppressors in a climactic chase sequence.

The theory also explains the use of certain actors in more than one film. Bruce Spence is a prime example — he plays the Gyro-Captain in The Road Warrior, and then appears as an amateur pilot in Beyond Thunderdome, both times assisting Max and his allies as they escape tyranny. Then there’s Max Fairchild, who appears in supporting roles in the first and second instalments; and Toecutter himself, Hugh Keays-Byrne, who portrays Fury Road’s antagonistic Immortan Joe over three decades after his first casting as a villain.

Max is a Legend
Max (Mel Gibson, again) with The Ones Left Behind in Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome

By that, we mean he’s a mythical figure, akin to the Roman or Greek gods written about centuries ago. A couple of the examples used above could also be utilised as evidence for this second theory — the appearance of thespians as different characters in multiple films; the vaguely similar narratives of the three sequels — and more besides.

The Road Warrior is the entry which most readily identifies with Max Rockatansky being a myth. From the outset, it’s made clear the story is set in the future, with an elderly man (voiced by Harold Baigent) recounting the events of his past, who by story’s end reveals himself to be one of Max’s allies: the Feral Kid (Emil Minty).

More proof comes from the end of Beyond Thunderdome, where an adult Savannah Nix (Helen Buday) is seen recounting the tale of how she and her fellow tribespeople were rescued by Max. And then, there’s this quote which appears at the end of Fury Road:

“Where must we go… we who wander this Wasteland in search of our better selves?”

That line is attributed to “The First History Man”, and unknown and unwitnessed figure who, we can assume, is responsible for telling Max’s story.

Also indicative of this theory is the demise and unexplained return of Max’s iconic car, The Interceptor. This heavily-modified Ford XB Falcon Hardtop was stolen by Rockatansky in the third act of the original film, and destroyed in Mad Max 2, only to miraculously appear in the opening scenes of Fury Road (though in fairness, Miller circumvents this plot-hole by describing the latter picture as a “revisiting” of the franchise).

There’s More than One Max
Max (Tom Hardy) strapped to the front of a War Boy’s car in Mad Max: Fury Road

In the days and weeks following the release of Fury Road, there were certain netizens who hypothesised that this particular Max is, in fact, the aforementioned Feral Kid from Mad Max 2, owing to his long hair, the return of The Interceptor, him being played by a different actor, and the character reluctantly sharing his name.

Miller himself entertained this idea when queried by IGN, labelling it “interesting” but ultimately dismissing it, pointing to The Road Warrior’s end narration. Other factors that work against the premise include Tom Hardy being directly credited as “Max Rockatansky” in Fury Road’s opening, and his voice-over where he directly states:

“Once I was a cop, a Road Warrior searching for a righteous cause.”

But, tying into the theory that Max is a fable, it is possible that he is not the only “Max” in this universe. Again, The Interceptor helps provide weight to this theory — if this is the same Max we saw in Road Warrior and Thunderdome, how is it that “the last of the V8s” (as the car is labelled in the first and second chapters) is still in his possession after being lost?

There’s the matter of his name, too. Rockatansky only says his name twice in Fury Road — in the initial voice-over, and in the third act when he saves Furiosa’s life; he shares it about as often in Mad Max 2, and doesn’t utter it even once in Thunderdome, where he’s instead called “the Raggedy Man” or “the Man with No Name”. Perhaps our History Folk are telling of several figures who came to the aid of others, and just so happen to have named their hero “Max” in each tale.

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga is screening in theatres nationwide from this Thursday, May 23rd. The other four Mad Max films are available via home-video, streaming and on-demand services.

Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes is a Worthy Entry in the Enduring Franchise

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

The under-the-radar but always enjoyable sci-fi franchise, the Apes films has always impressed with its top-tier CGI department and Shakespearean approach to storytelling taken straight from the James Cameron school of action cinema. With this new entry, Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes (2024), the franchise has evolved and shifted towards a more intimate scope, without lacking its compelling and nuanced storytelling vision. This latest entry is less interested in the do-or-die existential struggle for primates and humanity survival as a whole and more interested in the young individuals (on both sides) finding their place in an ever-shifting world. The Apes films have never been more relatable than with our hero Noa (Owen Teague), a young prince to a quiet colony of apes whose avian-centric culture shuts off the outside world, focusing on the establishment of their slice of the brave new world. 

With Matt Reeves moving on to darker pastures with The Batman (2022), Wes Ball, central filmmaker for the Divergent franchise, has taken the keys to this generation-spanning tale of legacy and evolution, merging into his familiar abode of adolescents staking a claim in an uncertain, dystopian future. 

Kingdom begins with a coming-of-age trial, as Noa and his companions, Anaya (Travis Jeffery) and Soona (Lydia Peckham), attempt to climb an overgrown skyscraper (in one of many evocative world-building choices the creative team have made here), in pursuit of eagle eggs to take home. The sequence is thrilling and economical in its storytelling, as the trio swing from floor to floor, learning just enough about each character to satisfy a full film. A central tenet of this trial is to always leave an egg behind, allowing the eagle cycle to continue mostly uninterrupted. As we come to learn of other colonies throughout the film, the acceptance of the eagle clans’ place in the wider ecosystem is stark and increasingly emotional as we see Noa having to adapt and find his own place in the world.

Noa (Owen Teague) in Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes.

What allowed the trilogy of modern Apes films to maintain a strong dramatic narrative is the Caesar character, seen from birth to death, performed extraordinarily across the films by the great Andy Serkis, the king of motion capture filmmaking. Serkis gave Caesar a soul deeper than skin and fur humanity, and his absence is plainly felt here, even as technology has rapidly grown. 

Kingdom sets itself apart from the previous Apes entries with its relationship with humans through its far-future setting. Noa and his companions stumble upon the mercurial Mae (Freya Allen), a seemingly feral scavenger of a human, isolated from ape kind and potentially one of only a few humans on the continent. The film thrives when Noa is forced into trusting either Mae or the film’s domineering antagonist: the cunning and powerful Proximus Caesar (Kevin Durand). Whether Promixus is a true successor to the previous film’s Caesar is only vaguely touched upon, with both potential answers to that question compelling. This question of legitimacy and Durand’s sly performance add a richer depth of storytelling to the film’s villain, solving an issue the previous trilogy of Apes films have suffered from.

The exploration of religion in this Simian civilisation is compelling and something that was taking its first steps in War of the Planet of the Apes (2017), with the word of Caesar holding an incalculable weight, leaving an enormous hole in their society after his passing. In this new film, Ball and screenwriter Josh Friedman explore these teachings of Caesar through both Raka (Peter Macon) and Proximus. While Raka seeks to use Caesar’s words to teach cohabitation and compassion across Simian and humankind, Proximus uses the recurring “ape together strong” franchise moniker to dominate other apes, folding them into his fascist empire. 

(From left) Noa (Owen Teague), Mae (Freya Allen) and Raka (Peter Macon) in Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes.

Similar to the previous entry War, Kingdom is interested in whether this new emerging primate civilisation is inherently similar to humanity or has become similar through their knowledge of humanity’s past through the characters’ desire to survive and dominate all others. The second half shifts towards a fight for survival between Mae and Proximus to break into an American army vault, with Noa stuck in the middle, disagreeing with both. While altogether a satisfying climax, these moments feel closer to retreads of similar set pieces and ideas than anything fresh and exciting to allow Kingdom to stand on its own in this enduring franchise. 

There are suggestions of a continuation of this story at its conclusion, comically implying the franchise’s intentions to leave no stone unturned towards arriving amongst the zany 70s entries in the Apes story. But, even with our modern addiction to Hollywood IP storytelling, Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes still manages to continue developing a vision for a more interesting and creative version of franchise cinema.

Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes is in theatres now.