The Plague Dogs (1982) – Film Review

27th March 202428th March 2024 / Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“They’re Not Masters. I Had a Master Once and I Know. Whatever the White Coats Are, They’re Not Masters…” – Snitter

One of the longest British animated films ever released, 1982’s The Plague Dogs is an extraordinarily bleak yet emotionally resonant film that tackles the uncomfortable subject matter of animal testing, particularly in the case of canines. A beautifully melancholy and poignant story about hope, companionship and scientific boundaries, many will undoubtedly find The Plague Dogs a long-winded and generally unpleasant experience. Whereas, for those who can stomach its harrowing storytelling, The Plague Dogs will be as captivating as it is heart-rending, standing as an underappreciated, well-crafted piece of hand-drawn ’80s animation.

Plot Summary: When Snitter and Rowf, a pair of tormented dogs, manage to escape from a remote animal testing facility in Northwestern England, the facility director attempts to keep their escape quiet. But, as an increasing amount of local livestock are found dead, word soon leaks out, along with rumours that the dogs may be potential carriers of the bubonic plague…

The second animated film to be based on a novel by Richard Adam and written/directed by Martin Rosen, following the release of Watership Down in 1978, The Plague Dogs is similarly aimed at an adult audience despite its charming animal protagonists. In fact, alongside The Last Unicorn (1982) and The Secret of Nimh (1982), The Plague Dogs is amongst the darkest and most violent animated films of the late twentieth century. As such, if, like me, you’re a dog lover, many scenes throughout The Plague Dogs will be supremely challenging to watch as the canines suffer at many points, both mentally and physically, to thrust the underlying themes of the film onto the audience. And, as the film’s title would suggest, the protagonists’ daring journey is not as morally straightforward as it first may seem, as via a series of conversations between scientists, journalists and government officials, it’s suggested that Snitter and Rowf may carry a variant of the bubonic plague, thanks to the facility “White Coats,” but this is never entirely confirmed, leaving the rumours (as well as the ambiguous ending) up for interpretation.

The central voice cast of the late Sir John Hurt, Christopher Benjamin and James Bolam are all terrific in their assorted roles, delivering vocal performances that are empathic yet never too intense for the steady pacing. Moreover, the foremost duo of Snitter and Rowf are swiftly established and supplied with plenty of characterisation, as Rowf, a labrador retriever mix breed, begrudgingly follows the lead of Snitter, a determined and optimistic fox terrier, frequently acting as a foil for his mystical sanguinity, combating it with world-weary nihilism. Rowf’s pessimism is hardly irrational, however, as the pair’s horrific experiences in the facility have left them scarred, striving to use their escape as a chance to heal from those hellish experiences, with the survival guidance of a cunning fox known only as the “Tod.” Snitter is seemingly the heart of the film, though, formerly belonging to an affectionate owner who tragically died in an accident. Snitter underwent surgery of some kind during his time in the facility, resulting in a crown of bloodstained bandages around his head, ghostly hallucinations and persistent moments of distress due to a clamouring noise that only he can hear.

To match the relentlessly sombre tone, The Plague Dogs retains a shady colour palette throughout its runtime for both its stunning, watercoloured backgrounds and astonishingly realistic animation for the dogs, continuously prompting frames to resemble aged landscape paintings, complete with expansive fields, derelict farmhouses and cloud-covered peaks, which is even more impressive when considering no rotoscoping was utilised during production. Furthermore, the animated cinematography is dynamic and visually engaging as the camera glides around the dogs and their environment(s), often passing through windows and over stone walls, inadvertently helping to redeem the irksome amount of fade-to-black transitions in between.

Influenced by the techniques of American minimalism as well as the scores of Polish composer, Witold Lutosławski, Patrick Gleeson’s orginal score for The Plague Dogs conforms to the style of Rosen’s uncompromising filmmaking for the most part, as tracks, such as Freedom, Wondering and In the Pens, are suitably dour and fine-drawn, rarely flaring up to create room for the atmospheric sound design.

Unfortunately, regarding its reception, The Plague Dogs performed incredibly poorly critically and commercially upon its initial release, failing to live up to expectations as a follow-up to Martin Rosen’s last feature. Shortly after its UK premiere, the film’s distributor, Embassy Pictures, decided not to pursue any further theatrical releases, meaning many American animators never saw the result of their hard work, one of whom was actually a young Brad Bird, eventual writer-director of The Incredibles (2004), before he was fired during production.

In summary, the entire duration of The Plague Dogs is undeniably oozing with despair and dread. So much so, it wouldn’t be misleading to say the film is a “Prolonged Howl of Helplessness.” Still, in my opinion, the film and Rosen as a writer/director are unfairly unrecognised in the realm of animation, as while Rosen may have only orchestrated two films throughout his career, finding any animated flicks that can be compared to his filmography is virtually impossible. Rosen was a pioneer in animation, taking bold risks in his narratives and imagery alike to delve into topics the medium of animation is usually afraid to tackle, something The Plague Dogs does favourably and uncompromisingly. Rating: low 8/10.

Shadow in the Cloud (2020) – Film Review

19th March 202419th March 2024 / Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“I Saw… I Saw Something Move on the Right Wing…” – Maude Garrett

Shadow in the Cloud, released in 2020, is an action-thriller with a remarkably intriguing premise, playing into the fables of the mischievously dangerous creature known as the “Gremlin,’ a folkloric rodent that originated in the 20th century to explain malfunctions with aircraft operations, primarily during World War II. Depictions of these creatures have varied widely over the years, with their most well-known incarnation being in the 1984 horror-comedy classic; Gremlins. Before that film’s release, however, stories regarding the creatures often referenced them as the cause of the inexplicable technical and psychological tribulations many pilots faced during the Second World War, Shadow in the Cloud being one of those stories. Yet, despite this potential, aside from some impressive set design and the earnest attempt by its leading actress, Chloë Grace Moretz, to schlep the film as a ‘one-woman show,’ it’s largely a chore to make it through the entire runtime of Shadow in the Cloud, fleeting though it may be.

Plot Summary: In the throes of World War II, pilot officer, Maude Garrett, joins the all-male crew of the B-17 bomber, the Fool’s Errand, with a top-secret package. Caught off-guard by the presence of a woman on their military flight, the crew tests Maude’s every move. But, before they can enquire further about her assignment, Maude notices something sinister clinging onto the underside of their aircraft…

Co-written and directed by Roseanne Liang (Banana in a Nutshell, My Wedding and Other Secrets), the somewhat clunky screenplay for Shadow in the Cloud was originally penned by Max Landis, but was later heavily rewritten during pre-production by Liang due to sexual harassment allegations made against Landis at the time. Liang and Moretz claim that Landis was distanced from the production, with his screenplay being rewritten several times before filming began. But, after watching the film, Landis argued that about 90-95% of the screenplay is still his.

Chloë Grace Moretz undertakes the role of the film’s protagonist, adept pilot, Maude Garrett, or at least, that’s how she introduces herself, as Maude’s true identity and the nature of her assignment is actually a mystery for much of the runtime. Nevertheless, Moretz does a great job carrying the acting load, while Maude receives a serviceable amount of characterisation. The rest of the crew, portrayed by Taylor John Smith, Callan Mulvey, Nick Robinson, Beulah Koale, Byron Coll, Joe Witkowski and Benedict Wall, are well-acted yet lack any real depth or distinct character traits, only serving to hammer home the film’s underlying feminist themes as masculine caricatures. So much so, that as soon as Maude steps aboard the aircraft, she’s immediately met with sexist wisecracks and condescending nicknames.

Given that the majority of the film takes place aboard an aircraft amidst the clouds, it’s understandable that much of Shadow in the Cloud‘s visuals are confined to Maude and the camera crammed into the ball turret on the underside of the aircraft after the crew shove her down there to keep her out of their way during take off. From that point on, almost every shot maintains a steady level of motion to match the constant turbulence of the aircraft in the thick of the vicious storms and enemy fighters that surround it. Simply put, whilst the cinematography by Kit Fraser isn’t anything unprecedented, it is exceptionally accurate to the film’s wavering setting.

However, the same cannot be said for the original score by Mahuia Bridgman Cooper, which is bewilderingly inappropriate for both the narrative and its time period, beginning as a melodious yet out-of-place synthetic score before transitioning into something far more chaotic and tumultuous by the third act, draining away much of the suspense through tracks, like True Stories and Dangerous Feelings. Similarly, the film’s stylistic choice of occasionally cutting away from Maude in the ball turret to see the other crew mates in a blackened space with kaleidoscopic lighting feels at odds with the remainder of the visuals, especially since it obscures much of the aircraft’s detailed set design.

On a more positive note, the film’s opening does feature a nifty animated sequence based on the cartoon shorts of Private Snafu, a series of 1940s adult-oriented instructional videos meant to educate enlisted personnel on army discretion, hygiene, combat readiness and daily life. While the designs of the gremlins in these shorts might appear playful, the design of the actual creature in Shadow in the Cloud leans into a more lifelike approach, admirably constructing a creature that possesses a grey-haired, monkey-like body structure with minor traits of bats and rats. Unfortunately, the visual effects for the creature often do the film more harm than good, as although certain shots of the gremlin are passable, almost all of the shots of Maude on the exterior of the aircraft via green screen look dreadful, likely suffering as a result of a stretched-thin effects budget.

In summary, whilst Shadow in the Cloud bears a fantastic premise, it’s continuously so poorly executed that it becomes difficult to appreciate it, forcing its audience to significantly suspend their disbelief even more than you’d expect for an action-centric creature-feature, frequently coming across as pulpy and overly dramatic. Thus, by the time Shadow in the Cloud trots out historical footage of real servicewomen alongside an inspiring pop song during the end credits, the film has essentially veered into self-parody in spite of the tremendous conviction Moretz conveys in her performance. Rating: 4/10.

Safety Not Guaranteed (2012) – Film Review

10th March 202412th March 2024 / Joe Baker / 2 Comments

“Stormtroopers Don’t Know Anything About Lasers or Time Travel. They’re Blue-Collar Workers.” – Arnau

Inspired by the infamous “Time Travel Companion” advert printed in a 1997 issue of Backwoods Home Magazine and written as a joke/last-minute slot filler by John Silveira, an employee of the magazine, who is actually credited in the film as a “Time Travel Consultant.” 2012’s Safety Not Guaranteed is a beguiling, low-budget comedy-drama with a minimal sci-fi twist, utilising its mirthful real-world inspiration to compose an austere story with relatively modest ambitions and a shortage of memorability that is, thankfully, enriched by its strong performances, quirky charm and heartfelt underlying themes of love, loss and altering the past.

Plot Summary: When an opportunity arises to turn an outrageous magazine advert into an investigative journalism opportunity, pessimistic intern, Darius Britt, jumps at the prospect, joining her superior, Jeff, and fellow intern, Arnau, as they set out to uncover whether the advert’s proprietor, Kenneth, is a deranged misfit or has truly discovered the secret to time travel…

Based on the previously mentioned printed magazine advert, which was even featured on The Tonight Show With Jay Leno in 1992 during the “Headlines” segment before transforming into an internet meme, Safety Not Guaranteed harbours a straightforward yet well-paced narrative, combining its subplots, twists and turns effectively as director Colin Trevorrow (Jurassic World, The Book of Henry, Jurassic World: Dominion) and writer Derek Connolly, waste little time. That’s not to say that the film has no deeper meaning(s), however, as despite the foundation of the story being a question of thought-to-be impossible technology vs. the drab confines of reality, Safety Not Guaranteed features many relevant themes of love in all its forms, as the various characters each have their own outlooks on intimacy and heartache, many of which are preconceived notions, similar to how the characters initially perceive Kenneth to be a delusional, sci-fi-obsessed oddball before becoming acquainted with him.

In regard to the central cast, each actor, whether that be Aubrey Plaza, Mark Duplass, Jake Johnson or Karan Soni, consistently remains within the realm of their character’s traits, emotionally developing whilst remaining true to the heart of their character. As such, Plaza and Duplass are immensely enjoyable to watch as there’s a sweet sadness in the characters’ focus on lost dreams, missed chances and the truism that we all long for a time machine every once in a while, which is best seen in Darius’ backstory as she has become cynical about life since the death of her mother, causing her to flounder, burdened with sorrow and self-blame. Yet, upon her arrival in Ocean View, Washington, she is met with more than meets the eye in Kenneth, a paranoid and suspicious yet affable man. Believing himself to be followed by government agents, Kenneth manoeuvres around town with his interpretation of covert ops, stealing lasers from local laboratories and immersing himself in technical calculations and physical training, all in pursuit of his time-travelling mission. Immediately drawn to each other as divergent outcasts, Kenneth gradually takes Darius into his circle of trust. Interestingly, the role of Darius was actually written with Aubrey Plaza in mind, as Derek Connolly wanted to work with her. Likewise, Jake Johnson was Colin Trevorrow’s first choice for the role of Jeff.

Visually, Safety Not Guaranteed is passable but not all that impressive, as cinematographer Ben Kasulke predominantly relies on hand-held shots in an attempt to personalise the viewing experience, providing the story with a pleasant layer of intimacy. Nevertheless, the film’s use of the drizzling, forest-shrouded location of Ocean Shores (along with a handful of other areas within thirty minutes of Seattle) is terrific, appearing visually interesting yet never overwhelming, specifically whenever a scene takes place at sunrise or sunset.

For a story revolving around time travel, Safety Not Guaranteed has a surprisingly emotional core for what could have easily been a corny low-budget flick. It’s no surprise, then, that its soundtrack, composed by Ryan Miller, helps to capture that same emotional palette, not only accentuating the themes of the film, but adding an aura of reflection and hopefulness that helps to make the film’s eccentric protagonist someone to root for rather than feel sorry for, such as in the foremost track; Opening. Aside from Miller’s original tracks, Safety Not Guaranteed also features songs from numerous indie bands, including Summer Fiction and Guster, making for an all-in-all well-rounded soundtrack.

On the topic of the humour throughout Safety Not Guaranteed, some gags land, others do not, with some scenes also seeming rather bare comedy-wise. However, I applaud the film’s decision to avoid turning Kenneth into a cartoonishly strange character just for the sake of a few cheap laughs, as well as how natural the cast’s witty improvisation feels, particularly in the scene where Jeff advises Arnau to raise his collar and sport sunglasses to look like a “Pilot That Drives Jets.”

In summary, Safety Not Guaranteed is an endearingly zany indie flick. While the film is obviously low-budget and not exceedingly memorable when placed alongside many other light-hearted comedy-dramas, Safety Not Guaranteed possesses a clever screenplay, earnest moments and a genuine sense of sentiment for those who would like to turn back the clock. Not to mention the film’s plethora of excellent performances from its cast (primarily its three leads), ensuring the film will hold up in the future. Rating: 6/10.

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Escape From Tomorrow (2013) – Film Review

4th August 202324th September 2023 / Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“I’m Afraid if I Come With You, Something Bad Is Going to Happen…” – Jim

Written and directed by relatively unknown filmmaker Randy Moore, Escape From Tomorrow, released in 2013, serves as a genre-defying, experimental arthouse flick, which, whilst flawed, has to be admired for both its ambition and ingenuity. Produced on a budget of around £502,000 and illicitly shot at the Walt Disney World Resort in Orlando, Florida, and Disneyland in Anaheim, California, without permission or permits from the Walt Disney Company, Escape From Tomorrow attempts to criticise today’s fascination with “Disney Culture” by mocking the company’s rose-tinted reputation (particularly its string of immersive theme parks) to deliver a conceptually audacious, darkly surreal roller-coaster of a film that morphs a miserable father’s seemingly straightforward excursion to Walt Disney World into an other-worldly tale of paranoia, conspiracy, sex and violence, interspersed between visits to iconic attractions, like Space Mountain, Dumbo the Flying Elephant and It’s a Small World.

Plot Summary: While his family frolics, taking in the sights and sounds of the Walt Disney World Resort, discontented and recently discharged father, Jim, finds himself curiously obsessed with a pair of beautiful teenage girls, subsequently leading him to unveil fiendish forces behind the Happiest Place on Earth…

As a result of Disney’s reputation for being immensely protective of its intellectual property, the cast and crew behind Escape From Tomorrow employed a variety of guerrilla filmmaking techniques to avoid attracting attention within the theme parks, such as saving their screenplays on their smartphones and filming on hand-held cameras similar to those used by visitors. After production wrapped, Randy Moore was so determined to keep the film a secret from Disney (and their lawyers) that he decided to edit the project in South Korea. Rather than suppressing the film, however, the Walt Disney Company merely chose to ignore it, with the 2013 Sundance Film Festival likewise declining to discuss Escape From Tomorrow in detail before it premiered. Those who saw the film expressed strong doubts it would ever be widely released, due to the legal issues involved and its negative depiction of Disney’s theme parks, dubbing it; “The Ultimate Guerrilla Film.” This unfavourable portrayal is most evident during the first act, as the film takes a less ‘magical’ glimpse at the Magic Kingdom, focusing on the strain and exertion of the parents taking their children to the consistently clangorous, overcrowded theme park.

As far as characters go, the film’s protagonist, Jim, portrayed by Roy Abramsohn, is rather unpleasant, heading to the Walt Disney World Resort with his family for a sunlit getaway, only to have his trip tarnished by a call informing him he has lost his job, leading him to drink, neglect his children and even make public advances on his wife, whilst there. These traits are later enhanced when Jim begins to undergo increasingly peculiar hallucinations and perverted sexual daydreams following his spotting of two French teenagers. Still, while the character is unquestionably unlikeable, credit must be given to Abramsohn, whose charismatic performance makes Jim an oddly amiable protagonist (one that you even feel some sympathy for), despite his repeatedly deplorable actions. The supporting cast of Elena Schuber, Katelynn Rodriguez and Jack Dalton aren’t quite as stirring as Jim’s sheepish wife and energetic children, though this could be forgiven, given their limited screen-time and experience.

Utilising a greyscale colour palette to disguise cinematographer Lucas Lee Graham’s occasionally amateurish camerawork and provide the film with an aura of visual cynicism and dream-like surrealism, Escape From Tomorrow, though primarily set in the Magic Kingdom, was partially shot at Disneyland on account of production issues, with the resultant theme park seen on-screen being an amalgamation of the two. These production tribulations are sometimes very noticeable, as it’s especially apparent during the second act that the filmmakers had to use shoddy visual effects, green screen composition and digital stabilisation to rescue some of the sloppier (and potentially improvised) monochrome shots.

Fortunately, the fantastical original score by Abel Korzeniowski flawlessly matches the film’s pessimistic outlook, as tracks like Gates of Tomorrow and Fantasy Girl mimic the cheerful, wonderous tone of the actual melodies employed at the Walt Disney World Resort before the score becomes more unearthly and ominous with somewhat futuristic, 1960s-inspired tracks, like Mystery Man and Lost in Caves.

Playing into many of the urban legends surrounding Disney’s illustrious theme parks, Escape From Tomorrow features many references to online conspiracy theories related to the House of Mouse, one being the mention of a location known as “Base 21,” which refers to a real, little-known V.I.P. lounge located inside the Spaceship Earth attraction at Epcot. This fixation on urban legends again ties into the film’s underlying themes, twisting Disney’s adorable, family-friendly brand into a disturbing, perverse satire that finds macabre in the ordinary, comparable to David Lynch’s uncanny style of filmmaking.

In summary, while Escape From Tomorrow retains an undeniably bold vision, the film is only intermittently successful in execution, lacking well-developed characters or consistently striking visuals in spite of its many thoughtful or freakish moments. Nevertheless, I’d be lying if I said I detest Escape From Tomorrow, as I certainly hold a soft spot for the film. And whilst I know it will not be to all tastes, if you’re willing to look beyond the gimmick of its production, Escape From Tomorrow is a fascinating yet largely forgotten cinematic scrutiny of the Walt Disney Company that ultimately became another urban legend encircling their theme parks. Rating: low 5/10.

The Peanut Butter Falcon (2019) – Film Review

30th July 202310th October 2025 / Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“Friends Are the Family You Choose.” – Carl

Warm-spirited, humorous and well-acted, 2019’s The Peanut Butter Falcon is a feel-good, modern-day comedy-drama inspired by the celebrated literature of author Samuel Langhorne Clemens, best known by his pen name Mark Twain, who challenged many of the fundamental issues of his time, including racism, evolving landscapes, class barriers and access to education, through notable publications like his renowned novel; The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, and his 1883 memoir; Life on the Mississippi. The Peanut Butter Falcon specifically elicits Twain’s 1884 book; Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, finding modern resonance in the classic piece of American literature by incorporating a raft, assorted riverine ventures and luscious swampy landscapes into its entertaining (if occasionally meandering) story, which is frequently elevated by the film’s admirable camerawork and plethora of superb performances.

Plot Summary: When Zak, a twenty-two-year-old orphan with Down Syndrome, escapes the state-run care facility where he resides to pursue his dream of becoming a professional wrestler by attending a wrestling school headed by his favourite grappler, the Salt Water Redneck, he incidentally runs into Tyler, a fisherman turned delinquent fleeing to Florida. Together, the pair embark on a journey of camaraderie as they evade capture, slowly morphing Tyler into an unexpected ally and coach…

The concept for The Peanut Butter Falcon first came about when writer-directors Tyler Nilson and Michael Schwartz, who before this film’s release had only written/directed short films, such as The Moped Diaries (2014), Alex Honnold’s Urban Ascents (2014) and Alex Honnold: At Home Off the Wall (2015), met its forthcoming lead actor, Zack Gottsagen, at a camp for disabled and non-disabled individuals, where he expressed his yearning to be a “Movie Star,” this prompted Nilson and Schwartz to write a screenplay around him, knowing many locals would allow them to film for free, without permits. Given that the story is set within Southern America and features a protagonist with Down Syndrome as a result of this, The Peanut Butter Falcon plays it relatively safe with its judgmental setting to maintain an upbeat tone, only harbouring a few brief moments where Zak is lightly mocked for his disability. Moreover, many of these abusive characters are counterbalanced by jovial individuals who aid Zak and Tyler in their journey, like Blind Jasper John, portrayed by Wayne Dehart, a blind and Black evangelical preacher, who could be seen as somewhat cartoonish and stereotypical, depending on your background.

The remarkable central cast of Shia LaBeouf, Dakota Johnson and Thomas Haden Church (along with a surprise appearance from Jon Bernthal) are all exceptional in their assorted roles, conforming to their surroundings without appearing excessive in their Southern characteristics. However, Zack Gottsagen is understandably the stand out of the cast, as in spite of having only a handful of acting credits to his name, Gottsagen portrays Zak with a cordial, childlike innocent, providing his lonesome character with moments of goofiness and naivety without ever making him seem mindless. Zak is also pivotal to the film’s narrative, as his role in the story is ultimately to redeem Tyler, a flawed yet affable delinquent, who learns to be a better person thanks to Zak’s modest influence. Eventually, Tyler strikes up a serviceable romantic subplot with Zak’s pursuing, kind-hearted carer, Eleanor, but this never detracts from the prominent bond between Tyler and Zak, which remains meaningful and gratifying throughout the runtime.

Beautifully flaunting the rural Georgia landscape (which stands in for the Outer Banks of North Carolin), the cinematography by Nigel Bluck expertly captures the essence of the murky, backwater creeks, decrepit shacks, over-priced gas stations and sludgy shores with grounded boats that serve as the story’s setting, constructing an appealing visual aesthetic that feels naturalistic in its details, but also celebrates the American region for its prominent natural beauty and devil-may-care lifestyle.

Much of the score throughout The Peanut Butter Falcon bears a stripped-down approach to its arrangements, as composers Zachary Dawes, Noam Pikelny, Jonathan Sadoff and Gabe Witcher utilise acoustic instruments and minimal orchestration to provoke the audience with the calming sensation of standing in the open countryside. This is especially true of the tracks; Cold Open, Travelling Theme and Love Me in Kind, which possess simplistic yet breezy banjo-led melodies that correspond with the soothing, swampy visuals.

Interestingly, although The Peanut Butter Falcon received no Academy Award nominations in the face of its positive reception from critics and audiences alike, Gottsagen actually became the first-ever individual with Down Syndrome to present an Academy Award when he and LaBeouf announced the Best Live-Action Short Film on February 9th, 2020, which is an accomplishment in itself.

In summary, The Peanut Butter Falcon‘s triumph as a sleeper hit, becoming the highest-grossing independent film of 2019, was, in my opinion, rightfully deserved, as this low-budget comedy-drama is, above all else, charming, despite its sometimes corny and overly optimistic storyline. And whilst the film is admittedly far from a precise, poignant representation of a community that is rarely represented on-screen, The Peanut Butter Falcon is a step forward with its casting of an unknown lead actor with Down Syndrome, as opposed to acquiring a ‘bigger name’ to boast the film’s notoriety. Nevertheless, if you’d like to see an authentic, cinematic portrait of a life with Down Syndrome, I’d recommend seeking out the 2016 low-budget British drama; My Feral Heart, or the Irish drama; Sanctuary, also released in 2016. Rating: 7/10.

The House That Jack Built (2018) – Film Review

23rd July 202324th September 2023 / Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“The Old Cathedrals Often Have Sublime Artworks Hidden Away in the Darkest Corners for Only God to See. The Same Goes for Murder.” – Jack

Whether writing screenplays that contain scenes of self-administered clitorectomies or expressing Nazi sympathy at press conferences, the controversial yet distinguished writer-director Lars von Trier (Dogville, Antichrist, Melancholia) loves to cause headlines, with shock value frequently being employed as one of his greatest tools, often accentuating the underlying themes of his filmography. The House That Jack Built, released in 2018, is perhaps von Trier’s most distressing film to date, however, presenting the filmmaker at his most unfiltered and uncompromising. As such, for some, the film will serve as a captivating arthouse piece that delves into the layers of a serial killer’s mind, while for others, The House That Jack Built will seem like nothing more than an insensitive, tasteless horror flick brimming with disturbing moments, all in service of a lumpen statement that has been better cinematically expressed elsewhere.

Plot Summary: Reflecting on his existence, Jack, a failed architect and sadistic serial killer, describes his twelve-year reign of terror to Verge, his unseen, enigmatic companion, illuminating the significance of his systematic atrocities by recounting five randomly chosen incidents from his blood-spattered past…

Premiering at the Cannes International Film Festival on May 14th, 2018, The House That Jack Built was reported to have more than a hundred audience members (including some critics) walk out during its premiere, despite a six-minute standing ovation following the screening. Furthermore, some of the resentful audience members condemned the film afterwards on social media for its relentless violence and nihilistic tone. Although I’m usually not one to get offended by media, The House That Jack Built is a film where I can, at least, understand why some take issue with the flick, as the film effectively promotes the idea that life is cruel and soulless, whilst simultaneously playing upon many ‘hot topic’ political assertions, primarily around the American politician, media personality and 45th president of the United States, Donald Trump. This persistent fatalistic outlook, along with its excessive runtime and unsettling violence, ensures that The House That Jack Built harbours minimal appeal for general audiences, even if much of the potentially contentious commentary gets buried beneath the film’s many other aspects.

Boasting about his achievements to an unseen, accented man known as Verge, the titular, obsessive-compulsive engineer, Jack, portrayed by Matt Dillion, appears unhinged yet astute straight from the opening scene, as he circumstantially describes five haphazardly chosen events from his life, all of which involve gruesome murders. From there, the film spends little time on Jack’s upbringing or the circumstances that led him to such a depraved place, but instead concentrates purely on the unconnected series of incidents where Jack slaughters his victims. Through these scenes, you can see Dillon slowly losing himself in the role as he spectacularly portrays Jack as an authentic, twisted psychopath who possesses no redeeming qualities or childhood trauma in an attempt to connect with the audience. Additionally, the supporting cast of Bruno Ganz, Uma Thurman, Siobhan Fallon Hogan and Sofie Gråbøl are all adequate in their various roles, usually as screaming, hapless victims.

A hefty portion of the cinematography by Manuel Alberto Claro, unfortunately, leaves much to be desired as the film is shot in an almost documentary-like fashion, predominantly relying on hand-held close-ups and mid-shots, where characters repeatedly pass in front of the frame, obscuring the audience’s view. As a result, The House That Jack Built has a noticeable deficiency of attractive shots and is continuously dimly lit, causing many scenes to blend together. That being said, the film does include a handful of brief animated sequences that are invariably visually interesting, in addition to an intriguing assemblage of archival footage/images for whenever Jack refers to fortes like architecture or winemaking.

Exceedingly unremarkable, the original score by Víctor Reyes is barely discernable for most of the scenes it’s featured within. Thankfully, the song choices throughout the runtime manage to audibly enhance the film somewhat, as songs like Fame by David Bowie support the story’s implied 1970s time period while classic French overture pieces, such as Partita No. 2 in C Minor, BWV 826 and The Four Seasons – Concerto No. 3 in F Minor, RV 293, heavily contrast with the ghastly violence on-screen, making a few of Jack’s killings seem darkly comedic.

Regarding the film’s graphic violence, I would argue that it could be excused in this case, given the narrative revolves around an unfeeling mass murder, an inherently frightening yet compelling subject matter that has been covered many times before in cinema with a comparable level of violence, most notably in the horror/black comedy classic; American Psycho (2000).

In summary, unlike a few other horror flicks that attempt to dive into the headspace of a serial killer, The House That Jack Built truly pulls no punches, depicting a self-examining, metaphor-heavy story of a man disguising his shortage of worthwhile contribution with violent self-interest. Throughout the film, Lars von Trier essentially grabs the audience’s head and shoves it into a vortex of anguish, unconcerned about whether it will appeal to the masses. For that reason, the film is not one I would recommend lightly, as if not swept up in the interpretative storytelling of The House That Jack Built, this sickening arthouse flick will likely carry the allure of a lengthy therapy session as it lacks the magnetism of some of von Trier’s other work. Rating: 6/10.

Outstanding Original Scores in Cinema – Film List

16th July 202321st August 2025 / Joe Baker / 2 Comments

I’ve always considered original scores to be a very underappreciated element of filmmaking, as many audience members rarely seem to take notice of the beautiful and indelible soundtracks that saturate many scenes throughout cinematic history. These scores serve an important purpose in audibly immersing the audience in a narrative via dramatic, unnerving or sorrowful tracks that evoke deep emotion inside them (even if they aren’t aware of it), greatly enhancing the cinematic experience. Here are some of my personal favourites…

Dune (2021) – Composer, Hanz Zimmer

Favourite Tracks: Herald of the Change, Ripples in the Sand

Drive (2011) – Composer, Cliff Martinez

Favourite Tracks: I Drive, Bride of Deluxe

Jaws (1975) – Composer, John Williams

Favourite Tracks: Main Title and First Victim, End Titles

Dunkirk (2016) – Composer, Hanz Zimmer

Favourite Tracks: The Mole, Supermarine

WALL-E (2008) – Composer, Thomas Newman

Favourite Tracks: 72 Degrees and Sunny, Define Dancing

Arrival (2016) – Composer, Jóhann Jóhannsson

Favourite Tracks: Arrival, Kangaru

Halloween (1978) – Composer, John Carpenter

Favourite Tracks: Halloween Theme – Main Title, Myer’s House

Ratatouille (2007) – Composer, Michael Giacchino

Favourite Tracks: Ratatouille Main Theme, End Creditouilles

Jurassic Park (1993) – Composer, John Williams

Favourite Tracks: Welcome to Jurassic Park, Journey to the Island

The Neon Demon (2016) – Composer, Cliff Martinez

Favourite Tracks: The Neon Demon, Something’s in My Room

A Ghost Story (2017) – Composer, Daniel Hart

Favourite Tracks: The Secret in the Wall, Safe Safe Safe

Vertigo (1958) – Composer, Bernard Herrmann

Favourite Tracks: Prelude and Rooftop, Carlotta’s Portrait

The Shape of Water (2017) – Composer, Alexandre Desplat

Favourite Tracks: The Shape of Water, Elisa’s Theme

Nocturnal Animals (2016) – Composer, Abel Korzeniowski

Favourite Tracks: Revenge, City Lights

Edward Scissorhands (1990) – Composer, Danny Elfman

Favourite Tracks: Storytime, Ice Dance

The Social Network (2010) – Composers, Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross

Favourite Tracks: In Motion, Painted Sun in Abstract

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018) – Composer, Daniel Pemberton

Favourite Tracks: Gimme the Goober, Spider-Man Loves You

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (2001) – Composer, John Williams

Favourite Tracks: Hedwig’s Theme, Diagon Alley and the Gringotts Vault

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) – Composer, Alexandre Desplat

Favourite Tracks: Mr. Moustafa, Daylight Express to Lutz

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966) – Composer, Ennio Morricone

Favourite Tracks: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, The Ecstasy of Gold

Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009) – Composer, Alexandre Desplat

Favourite Tracks: Mr. Fox in the Fields, Jimmy Squirrel and Co.

Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope (1977) – Composer, John Williams

Favourite Tracks: Main Title, The Princess Appears

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023) – Composer, Daniel Pemberton

Favourite Tracks: Spider-Woman (Gwen Stacy), Canon Event

Blade Runner 2049 (2017) – Composers, Hans Zimmer and Benjamin Wallfisch

Favourite Tracks: Tears in the Rain, Blade Runner

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004) – Composer, Jon Brion

Favourite Tracks: Theme From Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Bookstore

Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010) – Film Review

12th July 202330th July 2026 / Joe Baker / 1 Comment

“Those Are the Heads of All of Your Lieutenants… That Took Me Two Hours. You Wanna See What I Get Done in a Whole Evening?” – The Red Hood

In 1988, the iconic DC Comics storyline; Batman: A Death in the Family, written by Jim Starlin and illustrated by Jim Aparo, was released to a mixture of acclaim and controversy, later becoming the bestselling comic of that year. This particular comic was unique, as readers were encouraged to vote for an ending to the narrative via a pay-per-call service number, deciding to either save or kill Batman’s youthful sidekick, Jason Todd, the second Robin. In the end, over ten thousand votes were cast, with a seventy-two-vote majority choosing to kill Jason, leading to one of the most recognisable comic book panels in literary history. Eventually, however, Jason Todd was brought back as part of a 2005 storyline entitled; Batman: Under the Red Hood, with an animated adaptation following in 2010, employing elements from both storylines to formulate a gripping, swarthy and exhilarating animated flick that examines the Dark Knight’s abiding moral code and its many drawbacks.

Plot Summary: When the mysterious vigilante, Red Hood, emerges in Gotham City, taking the streets by storm with the efficiency and aptitude of Batman without obeying the same moral code of never taking life, the Caped Crusader is forced to go toe-to-toe with the illusive outsider, reopening old wounds as once-buried memories resurface…

For those who haven’t read the source material, I won’t spoil any major plot points of Batman: Under the Red Hood, all I’ll say is that most of the story’s twists and turns won’t come as a shock to those paying attention. Fortunately, this level of predictability doesn’t matter much in the grand scheme, as Batman: Under the Red Hood is at its most compelling when it isn’t focusing on its revelations, but on how the characters endure them, as Red Hood takes Batman’s concept of vigilante justice and pushes it further toward the line between exemplary and immoral, despite his goal of ridding Gotham City of criminal filth being remarkably similar to that of the Cowled One. In fact, compared to many of Batman’s other adversaries, the Red Hood’s objectives are understandable and even somewhat valid, his crooked logic making sense as he asks Batman the formidable questions, forcing him to ask them of himself. Director Brandon Vietti (Superman: Doomsday, Scooby-Doo! WrestleMania Mystery, Batman: Death in the Family) and writer Judd Winick also seem to understand this, as it’s where the majority of their fixation goes, even if the fleeting runtime is too short to explore some of the film’s underlying themes in greater detail.

For the most part, the central voice cast of Bruce Greenwood, Jensen Ackles, Neil Patrick Harris, Jason Isaacs and Wade Williams portray their characters skillfully, delivering weighty yet not excessively intense vocal performances that embody their esteemed comic book characters, whether heroic or corrupt. For me, the cast has only one weak link, John DiMaggio as the Joker, who, aside from the character’s prominent laugh, doesn’t feel suited to the role, seeming somewhat miscast as he lacks the unvaryingly threatening, psychotic persona of the Clown Prince of Crime.

Visually, while still in line with the typical animation style of the DC Animated Original Movies assemblage, the animation/animated cinematography for Batman: Under the Red Hood is striking and distinctive. From the sharp angles of Batman to the meaty, menacing smile of the Joker, to the gloomy atmosphere of Gotham City with its shady warehouses and towering skyscrapers, usually depicted through enchanting wide shots that exhibit the illuminance of Gotham’s dominating skyline. In many ways, Batman: Under the Red Hood harbours the appearance of a literal animated comic book, rarely exhibiting its age or its undersized animation team.

Perceived as a powerhouse in the realms of both animation and video games, Christopher Drake, the composer for Batman: Under the Red Hood, has previously composed for many DC projects as Warner Bros. Animation frequently entrusts Drake to bolster many of their animated superhero flicks, most notably with projects like the adaptation of the seminal graphic novel; Batman: Year One (2011), as well as Batman: Gotham Knight (2008), Superman/Batman: Public Enemies (2009) and Green Lantern: Emerald Knights (2011). As such, it’s no surprise that Drake also does a terrific job with the original score for Batman: Under the Red Hood, starting the soundtrack off strong with the brooding opening track; Main Title, before supplying the film with further dramatic tracks, all of which seamlessly blend with the crime-ridden metropolis of Gotham City and its shadowy defender.

Intriguingly, Batman: Under the Red Hood was originally intended to be geared towards older audiences, bearing more violence. However, due to the low sales of DC projects in 2009, Warner Bros. Animation ordered the team behind the film to make edits to reduce its brutality and thus, its age rating. Yet, even with these cuts, the myriad of well-executed, easy-to-follow action sequences are thrilling, swift and surprisingly bloody.

In summary, more so than most animated DC projects, Batman: Under the Red Hood truly aims for cinematic storytelling over shallow spectacle and/or vibrance. With its stimulating action sequences, intricate animation and emotional underpinnings, Batman: Under the Red Hood is one of the finest entries in the DC Animated Original Movies catalogue. So much so, that in spite of Warner Bros. Animation continuously overusing the Dark Knight over their many other superheroes and villains, Batman: Under the Red Hood still manages to reveal a largely unexplored side of the celebrated character. Rating: high 7/10.

Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle (2017) – Film Review

7th July 202324th September 2023 / Joe Baker / 2 Comments

“A Game for Those Who Seek to Find… a Way to Leave Their World Behind…” – Spencer

Seeking to modernise the premise of the 1995 fantasy-adventure classic; Jumanji, a striking premise first presented in the children’s picture book of the same name, written and illustrated by Chris Van Allsburg. 2017’s Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle switches the concept of an enchanted, four-piece board game for a ’90s-style video game cartridge, rooting itself in well-known video game tropes. And while not quite as enjoyable as the original flick, in my opinion, Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle is still an entertaining yet undemanding soft reboot that manages to stand on its own two feet as a jungle-set adventure, utilising its charming cast and humorous moments effectively under the capable direction of Jake Kasdan (Zero Effect, Orange Country, Sex Tape).

Plot Summary: After Jumanji, the bewitched jungle-themed board game, receives a mysterious modification, converting the wooden parlour game into a 1990s video game cartridge, the game is stumbled upon by high school students; Spencer, Martha, Fridge and Bethany, who are promptly pulled into its perilous world. Now, in order to return home, the group must inhabit their chosen avatars, survive the cadaverous creatures and complete the game…

Despite the original Jumanji receiving fairly mixed-to-positive reviews both when it was initially released and in the years since, recounting the simple yet captivating story of Alan Parrish, a troubled boy who comes across a cursed board game that releases lions, elephants, giant spiders and carnivorous plants into the real world to pursue its unsuspecting players. Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle remains in the same continuity, continuing on from Alan, Sarah, Judy and Peter’s adventure by having a separate group of characters unwillingly play the game. To keep the franchise feeling fresh, however, Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle cleverly inverts the premise of the original, transporting the characters (and, by extension, the audience) into the treacherous world of Jumanji, where many references to the original flick can be seen, including a cluster of overgrown statues modelled after the iconic board game pieces and a handcrafted hut that Alan resided inside when he was trapped in Jumanji, serving as a sweet yet modest tribute to the late Robin Williams, who portrayed the older iteration of the character.

This time around, the protagonists consist of four high schoolers serving detention together before they are transported into Jumanji following their discovery of the video game’s cartridge in their school’s storage room. Spencer, a skinny, awkward gamer becomes Dr. Smolder Braveston, portrayed by Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, the introverted, Martha, becomes Ruby Roundhouse, portrayed by Karen Gillan, the tall and muscular jock, Fridge, becomes Franklin “Moose” Finbar, portrayed by Kevin Hart, and the would-be popular girl, Bethany, becomes Professor Shelly Oberon, portrayed by Jack Black. As can be expected with an all-star cast such as this, everyone possesses terrific chemistry with each other and embodies their real-world counterparts sufficiently whilst playing into the obvious humour in each of the teens altering into entirely different individuals, particularly in the case of Bethany, who transforms from an Instagram-obsessed teenage girl to an overweight, middle-aged cartography professor. Unfortunately, the film’s power-hungry antagonist, Van Pelt, doesn’t fare as well, lacking depth, fearfulness and presence in spite of Bobby Cannavale’s serviceable performance.

Taking advantage of the naturally beautiful scenery of Honolulu, Hawaii, specifically within the Kualoa Ranch nature reserve, Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle makes exceptional use of its true-to-life locations and vibrant sets to immerse the audience in the precarious world of Jumanji, exhibiting the immense jungles, massive waterfalls and vast pastures that are only hinted towards in the original flick, even if the actual cinematography by Gyula Pados is somewhat flavourless.

Through tracks such as Brantford High and A Test of Friendship, Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle‘s original score by Henry Jackman constructs a clear contrast between Jumanji and the real world, as the formerly-mentioned tracks are contemporary and uplifting in nature, while tracks like Digging Up the Past, The Legend of the Jewel and The Power of Bravestone, are much more exhilarating and adventure-esque, going so far as to bring back the “Jumanji Drums,” a staple of the original Jumanji soundtrack.

When it comes to action sequences, Jumanji: Welcome To The Jungle isn’t likely to impress anyone, leaning more on the amusing moments between its cast than its scenes of hand-to-hand combat or hippopotamus ambushes. Nevertheless, most of the action throughout the runtime is passable, with one fight sequence featuring Dr. Braveston even playing into the video game truism of fighting off multiple enemies at once as the playable character. Additionally, although almost all of the CGI in the film is convincing, it’s regrettable that Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle harbours very few practical effects, given how heavily praised the physical elements of renowned adventure flicks like The Goonies (1985) and the first three instalments of the Indiana Jones franchise are today.

In summary, whilst it’s doubtful that Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle will be recognised for years to come as a groundbreaking 2010s blockbuster, it is a comical flick with defects, functioning as a superficial yet enjoyable soft reboot/stand-alone sequel that innovatively expands on the ideas introduced in the original Jumanji. In a bizarre way, Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle almost feels like a self-actualisation teen flick set against the unusual backdrop of an adventurous video game due to its infrequent high school setting and marginal character growth. Rating: 6/10.

Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey (2023) – Film Review

1st July 202324th September 2023 / Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“Pooh, You’ve Got to Help Me! Something’s Wrong With Piglet, He Killed My Wife!” – Christopher Robin

Shot in a mere ten days, Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey, released in 2023, is a British-American-produced micro-budget slasher that takes a more despicable approach to the beloved characters of Winnie-the-Pooh, Piglet and the other inhabitants of the Hundred Acre Wood, morphing the convivial critters into bloodthirsty, savage killers. Unsurprisingly, due to its laughable concept, terrible screenplay, amateurish filmmaking and general lack of any genuine horror or satire, Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey serves as nothing more than a bargain-basement slasher that fails to exhibit even a passing interest in the source material it’s adapting. As such, the film is only really notable for its title, simply existing as a bizarre, mismatched amalgamation of the horror genre and classic children’s literature.

Plot Summary: When Christopher Robin, now a young man, departs the Hundred Acre Wood to attend university, leaving Winnie-the-Pooh and his furred friends to fend for themselves, their days of merriment and adventure quickly come to an end as they become feral and enraged, soon acquiring a taste for flesh that steers them on a bloody rampage…

The creation of Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey became feasible at the start of 2022 after the 1926 children’s book; Winnie-the-Pooh by A. A. Milne, entered the public domain in the United States, voiding its copyright, and therefore Disney’s media exclusivity over the titular character. This meant that the filmmakers behind Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey were free to use characters like Pooh, Piglet and Eeyore, as long as they did not resemble their animated, Disney-owned counterparts, which were still actively protected by copyright. Nevertheless, I feel that most would agree that a malicious interpretation of Milne’s cuddly animal characters is undoubtedly a poorly-conceived concept from the get-go, with the film doing little to prove its critics wrong in this respect throughout the exceptionally brief runtime, even if it is commendable that this is the first live-action adaptation of Winnie-the-Pooh not produced by the Walt Disney Company, as well as the first adaptation geared towards mature audiences.

Regarding the film’s surplus of shortcomings, Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey‘s most significant issues lie within its screenplay, as the film crams several unwarranted scenes and overly dramatic subplots into a formulaic slasher framework, like having the underwritten protagonist Maria, portrayed by Maria Taylor, be suffering from serve PTSD, following a night where an anonymous sexual deviant broke into her home. These details add little to the narrative and generally come across as screen-time wasters. The rest of the characters, including Christopher Robin, Jessica, Alice, Zoe and Lara, portrayed by Nikolai Leon, Natasha Rose Mills, Amber Doig-Thorne, Danielle Ronald and Natasha Tosini, respectively, are all tremendously underdeveloped, delivering tedious exposition dumps that lead nowhere through performances that frequently present the cast as if they are uncomfortable in their various roles, underselling or overselling their reactions at every turn.

With the exception of the creative opening sequence, which sets the stage for this darker rendition of the honey-hungry yellow bear via pencil-doodled animation, Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey is a rather shoddy horror flick that lazily relies on its handful of admirable practical effects to avoid attempting anything visually or audibly impressive, as the cinematography by Vince Knight is relatively dull when it isn’t chaotically unstable during chase sequences, whilst the editing haphazardly slaps scenes together without any consideration for continuity or pacing. Furthermore, the film utilises plenty of editing trickery to get around its poor direction, namely, a ludicrous quantity of fade-to-black transitions and an assortment of abysmal CG blood effects.

One of the more mildly charming aspects of Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey, however, is its original score by Andrew Scott Bell, as tracks like In Which We Are Introduced to Winnie-the-Pooh, Together Forever and Silly Old Bear, while generic, are, at least, of a relatively high-quality thanks to Bell’s innovative approach to the whimsical yet eerie score, employing a variety of instruments in the composition of the soundtrack, such as a “Beehiveolin,” a combination of a beehive and a violin.

Interestingly, writer-director Rhys Frake-Waterfield (The Area 51 Incident, The Killing Tree, Firenado) originally wanted Tigger to appear in the film, but the character ultimately didn’t on account of copyright. Some may say this was a favourable outcome, as Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey evidently doesn’t strive for faithful recreations of the cherished characters of the Hundred Acre Wood. Instead, the film opportunistically coasts on the novelty of placing the loveable critters in a macabre context, bringing the characters to live-action through rubbery, full-face masks that display no hair or visible mouths, allowing for minimal expressions, meaning Pooh and Piglet may as well be murderous individuals sporting animal-themed masks.

In summary, Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey is exactly what many anticipated it to be following the release of its viral trailer in mid-2022; an atrocious slasher, an appalling adaptation, and an all-around execrable piece of cinema. Still, that’s not to say that Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey was a commercial failure, as the film actually grossed over £4 million on a budget of around £79,000, despite its near-universally negative reviews. Consequently, this suggests that with many other children’s literary works soon making their way into the public domain, we will regrettably be receiving far more lousy, horror-centric renditions of long-established characters in the near future, with Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey 2, Bambi: The Reckoning and Peter Pan’s Neverland Nightmare, being just some of the projects already announced. Rating: 2/10.

Joe Baker – Film Reviews

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