Genre: Adaptation

Double Indemnity (1944) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“How Could I Have Known That Murder Could Sometimes Smell Like Honeysuckle?” – Walter Neff

Widely regarded as one of the greatest films released during the Golden Age of Hollywood, Double Indemnity is a 1944 crime-thriller that combines suspense and sharp wit, conveying its captivating story of murder and romance through stylish, achromatic visuals and scintillating dialogue. Despite the technical limitations of its time and the occasional dragging scene, Double Indemnity‘s favourable qualities easily outweigh its shortcomings, setting the standard for almost every noir that followed, to the point that the American Film Institute actually ranked the film as their “29th Greatest Movie of All Time” in 2007.

Plot Summary: Living a life largely devoid of excitement, the smooth-talking insurance salesman Walter Neff finds his thirst for more quenched when he encounters the seductive Phyllis Dietrichson, the weary wife of a callous husband whom she plans to murder and cash out on his ‘accidental’ death claim, eventually convincing Walter to join her devious scheme. But, when his quick-witted supervisor, Barton Keyes, becomes suspicious of the claim, Walter’s paranoia gets the better of him as the pair’s fiendish ploy begins to fall apart…

Based on the novella of the same name by James M. Cain, supposedly inspired by a 1927 murder case perpetrated by a married woman and her lover, whose trial he attended whilst working as a journalist in New York. During this, Ruth Snyder persuaded her boyfriend, Judd Gray, to kill her husband, Albert, after having him take out an insurance policy with a double-indemnity clause before the couple were ultimately identified, arrested and convicted. Although the novella was well-adapted to the silver screen by screenwriters Billy Wilder and Raymond Chandler, the pair did not get along while penning the screenplay, a process loaded with arguments and behind-the-scenes drama. Nevertheless, the two writers’ squabbles may have been worthwhile as the dialogue exchanges between characters perfectly exemplify the noir genre, being both snappy and comical. So much so that the scene where Walter and Phyllis meet for the first time could be seen as the template for what virtually all notable noir films sound like.

Despite several cast members initially being apprehensive about signing on to the project, with the late lead Fred MacMurray even on the verge of turning down the role because he feared his career would be ruined by playing such a despicable character, every cast member in Double Indemnity is performing to their highest ability. From MacMurray and the late Barbara Stanwyck as murderous lovers, Walter Neff and Phyllis Dietrichson, flaunting their palpable on-screen chemistry, to the late Edward G. Robinson as Walter’s astute, snarky office manager, Barton Keyes, exhibiting a perfect balance of tenacity and humour, smelling something rotten about Mr. Dietrichson’s untimely demise, all of the performances are worthy of the screenplay’s well-crafted verbal exchanges.

Owing much of its visual brilliance to the late cinematographer John F. Seitz, an influential figure in camerawork with a career spanning several decades, Seitz’s work on Double Indemnity is often deemed a masterclass in stylish visuals. Well-known for his ability to use light and shadows to evoke mood, Seitz was instrumental in establishing the visual language of the noir genre via this film and many others, with the chiaroscuro lighting, tight framing and innovative use of darkness heightening the tension and moral ambiguity that pervade the narrative, his collaboration with the late director Billy Wilder (Sabrina, Some Like It Hot, The Apartment) only elevating Double Indemnity into a film that visually communicates its underlying themes of greed, betrayal and moral corruption as much as the dialogue. Additionally, light filtering in through blinds (a staple of the noir genre) is frequently used to visually depict Walter being ‘behind bars.’

The late Miklos Rózsa’s stagey original score is your traditional orchestral soundtrack, with the opening piece; Prelude, being a standout track, dramatically enriching the opening credit sequence where a mysterious silhouette of a man stepping toward the camera on crutches soon engulfs the screen. Following this, Rózsa adds emotional depth to the film with the track; Murder Theme, a suspenseful piece in which the striking of a timpani forms a grim rhythm, accompanied by violins that deliver a numbing pulse, alluding to the characters’ dark intentions.

Outside of the crime elements, Double Indemnity also harbours a hefty amount of romance within its narrative, largely thanks to the previously mentioned chemistry between MacMurray and Stanwyck, but also as a result of the film’s sensual moments and even moderately suggestive visuals for the time. For example, when Walter first meets Phyllis, the camera is drawn to a bracelet (or anklet) on her right ankle, with an urban legend stating that a married woman wearing a right-sided anklet indicates she is married yet available to other men. One of the many details that not only adds to the characterisation of Phyllis, but also serves as a humorous time capsule of the 1940s, when merely showing a woman’s ankle was considered scandalous.

In summary, if there is one Golden Age Hollywood classic that defines the very essence of the genre it’s a part of, it’s Double Indemnity, standing as a tremendous example of how to craft an engaging crime-thriller, building tension by employing intimate close-ups and honed dialogue. For a film from this era, you can’t do much better than Double Indemnity, a famed noir that stands the test of time after seventy years and will likely stand for seventy more, given its venerable reputation. Rating: 8/10.

Puss in Boots (2011) – Film Review

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“Fear Me, if You Dare!” – Puss in Boots

Released in 2011, one year after the highly-praised Shrek series supposedly concluded with Shrek Forever After (2010), Puss in Boots acts as a spin-off and prequel to the endearing ogre’s renowned franchise, retaining its emphasis on parodying fairy tales whilst supplying the titular heroic feline with an amusing, stand-alone adventure that frequently pays tribute to Spanish cinema. While not profound in terms of storytelling nor revolutionary in terms of animation, for what it lacks in depth, Puss in Boots, directed by Chris Miller (Shrek the Third), makes up for with an abundance of family-friendly wit and excitement, in spite of the initial plan to turn the film into a mere direct-to-DVD spin-off.

Plot Summary: Long before meeting Shrek and Donkey, the adorable yet cunning vigilante Puss in Boots aimed to clear his name, striving to escape his notoriety as the suspected thief of his hometown, San Ricardo. Then, one faithful night, after overhearing that the murderous outlaws Jack and Jill have come into possession of magic beans, Puss senses a window of opportunity, setting out to steal the beans in pursuit of the treasure they lead to, eventually crossing paths with an old friend…

In contrast to the Shrek films, which were in production for around three years (except for the first, which was in production for almost five), Puss in Boots took over seven years to produce, entering development just after the release of Shrek 2 (2004). The film also differs from the Shrek series in other ways, most notably in its inspirations. Where the Shrek franchise became recognised for its parodying of classic fairy tales and modern pop culture, Puss in Boots is more reminiscent of Spanish cinema, namely, Spanish action and adventure flicks, harbouring references to well-known flicks, like The Mask of Zorro (1998), a film which interestingly, also featured Antonio Banderas as the lead, and Desperado (1995), another release featuring Banderas as well as his co-star Salma Hayek. As such, Puss in Boots operates as a successful mish-mash of ideas, blending elements of fairy tale fantasy with solid action sequences reminiscent of traditional vigilante flicks. The majority of the story, though, is a riff on the famed fable of Jack and the Beanstalk, a fairy tale adapted time and again. Thankfully, the writers were aware of this, implementing a handful of original ideas to form their own take on the well-worn story.

The central cast of Antonio Banderas, Salma Hayek, Zach Galifianakis, Billy Bob Thornton and Amy Sedaris are superb in their vocal performances, with the newly-introduced characters being well-defined and entertaining, from Humpty Dumpty, Puss’ intelligent yet untrustworthy ally, to Jack and Jill, an amusingly fiendish pair of villains, and the skilled thief Kitty Softpaws, who bears a fairly moving backstory. Truly, the only character that lacks interesting characterisation is Puss himself, who is essentially the same character he was in 2004, with little difference in his personality despite being younger, less experienced and more independent, harbouring no major distinctions or a compelling character arc.

For this film, an admirable decision was made to make the world of Puss in Boots appear very different from that depicted in the Shrek series. In the latter, the environments were similar to classic fairy tale illustrations, often featuring extravagant kingdoms and vibrant forests, with even the earliest appearance of Puss in Boots himself being depicted in clean, pencilled illustrations in a vast woodland environment amidst the book; Histories or Tales of Past Times, Told By Mother Goose, written by Italian author Giovanni Francesco Straparola in 1551. However, the film has a distinctly Spanish feel, with most of the runtime being set in deserts and rural towns sporting Colonial architecture, in addition to a warmer, more terracotta colour palette. The animated cinematography and the animation itself also go a long way in enhancing the film’s many action sequences and visual gags, including one set piece with a gigantic creature wreaking havoc, undoubtedly inspired by the Godzilla series.

Capturing the spirit of adventure much like the film at large, the original score by Henry Jackman is rousing, occasionally even harbouring a slight western feel. Furthermore, tracks such as Chasing Tail and Farewell San Ricardo convey Puss’ heroism and vigilante persona flawlessly, whilst Jack and Jill are granted a monstrously malicious melodic cue with the plainly-named track; Jack and Jill. The end credits song; Americano by Lady Gaga, seems rather out-of-place among the rest of the soundtrack, however, given that Puss in Boots never employed contemporary songs in its fantastical setting before this moment, unlike the Shrek franchise.

Humorously, the animators behind Puss in Boots didn’t bring any cats into the studio to study their movements for the various felines that appear throughout the runtime. Instead, they simply watched some of the millions of widespread cat videos on YouTube to make each cat’s movements as lifelike as possible and take inspiration for some of the film’s cat-related antics.

In summary, Puss in Boots is a delightful adventure with enough entertainment value to keep both younger and older audience members engaged, even if the film isn’t as memorable as some of the entries from the series its protagonist originated. Still, it likely goes without saying the film’s late-to-the-party sequel; Puss in Boots: The Last Wish (2022), was an improvement over its predecessor in almost every way. Rating: 6/10.

Catwoman (2004) – Film Review

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“White Russian… No Ice, No Vodka, Hold the Kahlua.” – Catwoman

Widely considered one of the worst superhero blockbusters of all time, the notorious Catwoman from 2004 is a horrendous combination of an edgy 2000s music video and all of the worst aspects of a modern superhero flick. Harbouring immensely cringey, pun-based dialogue, terrible CG effects and a forced romantic subplot, among many other issues, Catwoman is a nosedive in quality from many of the beloved comic book stories featuring the famed cat burglar of the DC Universe. Still, for those who are fans of the character, there is little concern of character assassination here, as the protagonist of Catwoman is so distant from the feline that debuted in 1940 that she is virtually unrecognisable outside of the signature ears, whip and black leather outfit. As such, this seedy superhero flick is only worth seeing if you can tolerate a thrown-together story and hideous visuals merely for an ironic laugh.

Plot Summary: While toiling as a graphic designer for the cosmetics company Hedare Beauty, a mammoth corporation on the verge of releasing a revolutionary anti-ageing lotion, the shy and sensitive Patience Philips inadvertently happens upon a dark secret regarding the ointment, soon finding herself in the middle of a corporate conspiracy that eventually takes her life. But, after mysteriously reawakening with the newfound abilities of immense speed, strength, agility and ultra-keen senses, Patience transforms into Catwoman, a skilled and stealthy vigilante determined to foil her former employer’s devilish ploy…

Aside from the central (and rather superficial) underlying theme of the film, which relates to the harmful side of the cosmetics industry, naturally depicted in an over-the-top fashion with inhumane suits eager to make a profit, regardless of consumer harm, the plot of Catwoman is a formulaic yet underdeveloped superhero origin story, with most of the film revolving around the corny sequences of Patience (renamed from Selena Kyle in this iteration) discovering her numerous abilities. Similar to the unwarranted rename, this iteration of the character also possesses unexplained, supernatural abilities, unlike the original version of the character, who shared many similarities to her occasional associate, occasional foe, Batman, sporting an imposing outfit, a secret identity and exceptional fighting capabilities, yet no actual superpowers.

Becoming one of only six actors in history to own both an Oscar and a Razzie after her ‘win’ for her infamous performance in the film, Halle Berry also became the first actress to accept her Razzie in person, stepping out on stage proudly holding both Oscar and Razzie aloft, delivering the brief acceptance speech of; “I’d Like to Thank Warner Brothers for Making Me Do this Godawful, Piece of Shit Movie.” With this in mind, it’s likely not a surprise that Berry portrays Catwoman with all of the comic book cheesiness as other superhero performances of the era, from Ben Affleck’s Daredevil to Wesley Snipes’ Blade, over-delivering every line of dialogue and showcasing the cinematic sexualisation (and animalisation) of the titular character to an absurd degree, despite Catwoman’s sexually provocative side being a key part of her character in most media she appears. That said, Halle Berry does commit to her performance, and commendably so, considering that Patience spends most of her time wide-eyed and humiliatingly unhinged with a profound love of tuna. The supporting cast of Benjamin Bratt, Sharon Stone and Lambert Wilson don’t fare much better, with their performances frequently coming across as either lifeless or cartoonish.

Previously set in Catwoman’s usual home of Gotham City, with Michelle Pfeiffer reprising her role from the blockbuster sequel Batman Returns (1992) before this concept was scrapped when Pfeiffer refused to sign on, Catwoman takes place in an anonymous, grimy city that greatly resembles Gotham, yet is never confirmed to be so. Nevertheless, this iconic, fictional city’s aesthetic barely enhances the film’s visuals in the grand scheme, as the cinematography by Thierry Arbogast is continuously cluttered and visually displeasing, a flaw only exacerbated by the equally unpleasant viridescent colour palette. Moreover, the CG effects throughout the runtime are beyond appalling, appearing weightless and unconvincing, namely during scenes where Patience leaps up walls and across rooftops or when a cat is depicted via uncanny CGI, even though forty-three cats were actually trained and used for the film, seemingly removing the need for CG effects in this respect.

On another note, the soundtrack for Catwoman, primarily relying on not-so-timely songs such as Scandalous, Outrageous and Crazy in Love, is just as nostalgic as it is corny and excessively distracting. Likewise, the original score by Klaus Badelt is loud and overbearing, often unintentionally emphasising the film’s poor sound mixing, like with the clamorous track; Felineious Assault.

With Catwoman, it’s clear that the strangely mononymous French director Pitof (Vidocq, Fire & Ice: The Dragon Chronicles) set out to make a film as stylish and sensual as possible within the boundaries of its rating. And, while much of the film’s style is evidently influenced by Pitof’s background in outlandish, sultry music videos, blockbusters generally don’t rely on constant hyperactive shots, and Catwoman is a testament to why.

In summary, Catwoman is a baffling, dated mess of a superhero-led blockbuster, which is unfortunate, given how significant of a character Catwoman is, repeatedly playing a pivotal role in stories across the DC Universe, both featuring the Caped Crusader and otherwise. Thus, it’s not an exaggeration to say that Catwoman is a ‘cat-astrophe’ in practically every aspect, but definitely as an adaptation. Rating: 1/10.

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Leave the World Behind (2023) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“A Conspiracy Theory About a Shadowy Group of People Running the World Is Far Too Lazy of an Explanation… Especially When the Truth Is Much Scarier.” – G. H. Scott

Suspenseful, intriguing and enigmatic, 2023’s Leave the World Behind is an adaptation of the novel of the same name by Rumaan Alam. Steadily drawing its audience in through its engaging premise and stunning camerawork, this stylish Netflix Original is an apocalyptic thriller centred around the idea of humanity’s destruction being brought about by our distrust of others, our overreliance on modern technology and our lack of control over the planet. And, although not perfect, the film is a predominantly engrossing and intricate original flick for the streaming service in more ways than one.

Plot Summary: Exchanging New York City for a much-needed family getaway at a luxurious, remote rental home, couple Amanda and Clay Sanford are shaken by the late-night arrival of the sharply-dressed stranger, G. H. Scott, and his daughter, Ruth, bearing troubling news of a regional blackout and communication issues. But, as the pair are invited inside and speculate on why this rapid technological breakdown is occurring, all signs begin to point to more than a temporary malfunction…

Written and directed by Sam Esmail (Comet), creator of the incredibly gripping and considerably underrated crime-thriller television series; Mr. Robot, through which Esmail proves his extraordinary talent as a screenwriter and director. Leave the World Behind proves, once again, that Esmail is an absurdly talented filmmaker, governing the film’s pacing, upsurge in tension and consistently dour tone to an astonishing degree, all whilst enveloping the story in an unpredictable and surprisingly close to reality ‘end of the world’ scenario, even if the narrative unnecessarily harbours a lengthy runtime of almost two and a half hours. I can, however, see some taking issue with the film as a result of its conclusion, which is rather inconclusive and underwhelming after all the film’s build-up, even though the climax does answer many of the questions the audience likely possesses at that time.

The central cast of Julia Roberts, Mahershala Ali, Ethan Hawke, Myha’la, Farrah Mackenzie, Charlie Evans and Kevin Bacon all hold their own throughout the runtime, authentically portraying a concerned family, a pair of fairly unwelcomed guests and a distrustful neighbour with the appropriate dose of awkwardness and apprehension. Yet, the characters themselves aren’t given enough to make them appear memorable or complex, merely functioning as viewpoints for the audience as they piece together the sprinklings of clues and information they uncover in relation to the circumstances that are transpiring around them.

Utilising its colour palette to represent specific characters, like the colour blue, for example, being employed around the Sanford family, with their bedroom, car, clothes and other minor details all sharing this colour. The visuals, specifically the sleek cinematography by Tod Campbell, are inventive and attractive, visually conveying much of the paranoia the characters are feeling while implementing Esmail’s signature style of filmmaking via uncomfortable close-ups on the characters, positioning them in the corner of the frame to further put the audience on edge, with even the wall art in the master bedroom altering over time as Amanda and Clay’s temperament intensifies. Additionally, Leave the World Behind houses a few moments of fairly impressive CGI whenever the characters encounter a CG flamboyance of flamingos or a herd of deer near their rental home, which is certainly abnormal and visually interesting, yet the animals’ significance in the grander narrative is largely lost on me.

Crafting an outstanding score for all four series of Mr. Robot, Mac Quayle is a superb composer and continues to prove his worth with his nail-biting, horror-esque score for Leave the World Behind, continuously adding to the suspense of each and every scene, whether there is any physical peril at that time or not. During tracks such as; Beach Day and Cyberattack, Quayle’s orginal score is led by an isolated, eerie piano piece, placing the audience (for a brief moment) amid the film’s impending apocalypse and the human drama unfurling within. However, as much as the score attempts to immerse the audience in the narrative, some of the licensed songs chosen for the film have the counter effect, seeming unsuitable and irrelevant to both the tone and the story, despite the stylish opening animated sequence where one of these songs is featured, serving as an electrifying curtain-raiser.

On another note, Leave the World Behind interestingly contains several references to Esmail’s previously mentioned television series, including Amanda’s laptop and the yellow emergency kits the character, Danny, purchases both being produced by E-Corp, a fictional corporation featured in the series, as well as a book written by the Mr. Robot character, Irving, also appearing, suggesting that the stories may take place in the same universe, which would make sense, given the stories’ shared notions of hackers, cyberattacks and theories regarding online terrorist groups.

In summary, Leave the World Behind is a Netflix Original that will undoubtedly divide its audience, taking an unconventional approach to the well-known formula of the apocalyptic scenario, leaning more into the isolated paranoia and scepticism of an ordinary American family rather than the grand destruction of famed cities and their associated landmarks across the globe. Even so, whilst not quite as polished or as compelling as Esmail’s masterwork of a television series, Leave the World Behind definitely has its notable elements, in my opinion, grounding itself in reality as much as possible. Rating: 7/10.

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Gods of Egypt (2016) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / 1 Comment

“Every Night the Battle Between Chaos and Creation Must Go On. Otherwise, the World Will Be Destroyed…” – Ra

Based on the Egyptian myth; The Contendings of Horus and Set, a mythological tale from the Twentieth Dynasty of Egypt found in the pages of a biblical text, recounting a battle between Horus, a god who takes the form of a falcon, and Set, a sky god, lord of the desert and master of storms, disorder and warfare, Gods of Egypt, released in 2016, is a visually overblown, poorly plotted and needlessly CGI-heavy fantasy blockbuster. Playing fast and loose with its world-building and the Egyptian mythology it’s based upon, Gods of Egypt squanders much of its talented cast and admirable visual effects in exchange for shallow, action-lead spectacle. As a result, the film has largely (and unsurprisingly) been lost to the sands of time, similar to many other lustreless blockbusters of the 2010s.

Plot Summary: In an alternate Ancient Egypt where the world is flat and Egyptian gods live amongst humans, differing from mortals by their tremendous height, golden blood and ability to transform into their animalistic forms, a young thief, Bek, and his beloved girlfriend, Zaya, are attending the coronation of Horus. But, during the ceremony, Horus’ father, Osiris, is murdered by his envious brother, Set, who seizes the throne and declares a new, brutal regime…

Directed by Alex Proyas (The Crow, Dark City, I, Robot), Gods of Egypt is, as of now, Proyas’ most recent directorial effort, as the critical and commercial failure of the film (along with its casting controversy, as the film was criticised for casting predominantly caucasian actors), seriously hindered his reputation. Consequently, he has only directed a couple of short films since. While this is a cruel turn of fate for Proyas, who has demonstrated in the past that he can helm entertaining blockbusters, Gods of Egypt is evidently desultorily directed, frequently lacking polish, dramatic weight, comedic timing and vital fragments of exposition, especially when considering the film’s immense budget of over £110 million.

Ranging from uninspired to cringe-worthy, the performances throughout Gods of Egypt are inconsistent, to say the least, as Nikolaj Coster-Waldau’s valiant Horus lacks the balance of arrogance and self-pity many of his previous performances retain, whilst the performances of Brenton Thwaites, Elodie Yung, Rufus Sewell and the late Chadwick Boseman come across as superficial and exaggerated, further facilitated by their half-baked characterisation. Moreover, as the detestable Set, Gerard Butler struts, growls and bellows like an enraged grizzly bear, possessing none of the self-awareness that could have made such an over-the-top performance more enjoyable.

Primarily shot in the Australian desert, as filming in the Sahara Desert was considered too dangerous, the cinematography by Peter Menzies Jr. occasionally allows for pleasant shots of the desert landscapes and their imposing Egyptian structures. However, many of these shots are often spoilt by the enormous barrage of CGI, making every frame appear glossy and oddly sterile, even during scenes where gigantic crowds are present. Additionally, while terrifyingly indelible creatures are not as frequent in Egyptian mythology as they are in, say, Greek or Norse mythology, Gods of Egypt still features a handful of stately creature designs, namely, the massive, serpentine creature known as Apophis, an Egyptian deity of chaos that is commonly depicted as a snake in Egyptian hieroglyphs.

On another note, it’s fascinating how, despite having no evidence as to what music in Ancient Egypt sounded like, composers have adopted a specific style to depict that location and era, likely beginning with 1954’s The Egyptian, before enduring through dozens of other scores over the years, including Land of the Pharaohs (1955), The Prince of Egypt (1998) and The Mummy (1999). In regard to the orginal score for Gods of Egypt, composer Marco Beltrami weaves several Egyptian-esque themes in and around each other, as the two central deities, Horus and Set, harbour their own motifs, with Horus’ motif sounding valiant, conveying him as the more sympathetic of the two, whilst Set’s motif is far darker and shares many similarities to your more typical ‘villain themes,’ built around intense, descending brass lines. The problem, however, is that all of these tracks aren’t that memorable or unique in spite of their functionality, with most of the score just consisting of staggeringly generic action pieces. 

Due to nearly all of the film heavily utilising visual effects, it’s not surprising that the considerable CG effects implemented throughout the runtime are one of the few shining aspects of Gods of Egypt. Aside from a handful of shots which have aged questionably, most of the visual effects are impressive. In fact, one of the more unusual challenges the visual effects team faced during post-production was placing the cast inside an array of virtual environments, as most of the scenes were shot against a bluescreen. An added complexity came in the form of the size differences between gods and mortals, as the gods stand around nine feet tall, so the visual effects team had to constantly consider these size variations.

In summary, Gods of Egypt is an insipid blockbuster lacking originality, excitement and entertainment value. The film merely meanders through waves of corny dialogue, mind-numbing, CGI-reliant action sequences and a monotonous, drawn-out story brimming with contrivances and the odd interesting concept. Once again proving, alongside other poorly-received blockbusters, such as Justice League (2017), Independence Day: Resurgence (2016) and Transformers: The Last Knight (2017), that an enormous budget doesn’t necessarily yield enormous success. Rating: low 3/10.

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The Plague Dogs (1982) – Film Review

/ 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.

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

/ 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.

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

/ 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.

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

/ 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.

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The Lost World: Jurassic Park (1997) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / 1 Comment

“Oh, Yeah. Oooh, Ahhh, That’s How It Always Starts. Then Later There’s Running and Screaming…” – Dr. Ian Malcolm

Strangely dubbed; The Lost World: Jurassic Park, a title that appears to be out of order in its literary arrangement. This adventurous sequel to the timeless classic; Jurassic Park, released in 1993, was once among the most anticipated films of the 1990s. Yet, upon its initial release in 1997, The Lost World: Jurassic Park disappointed many for not living up to the lofty expectations set by the original, including Spielberg himself, who expressed disappointment with the film after becoming increasingly disenchanted with it during production. Nevertheless, I have always considered The Lost World: Jurassic Park somewhat underrated, harbouring an intriguing story and a more foreboding tone/aesthetic, which offsets some of its screenplay-centric faults.

Plot Summary: Four years after the catastrophe of Jurassic Park, the now-humbled John Hammond, strives to redeem himself by studying the well-being of the dinosaurs roaming free on InGen’s secondary site for bio-engineering, the secluded island of Isla Sorna. While assembling his team for this study, Hammond contacts the reluctant Dr. Ian Malcolm to convince him to join the expedition. Meanwhile, Hammond’s ignorant nephew, Peter Ludlow, intends to use his newly-obtained position as the CEO of InGen to capture as many of the island’s prehistoric species as possible for a new attraction opening in central San Diego…

Similar to the original film, The Lost World: Jurassic Park is loosely based on the novel of the same name by Michael Crichton and helmed by celebrated director Steven Spielberg. So, as is to be expected, under this masterful direction, The Lost World: Jurassic Park boasts several edge-of-your-seat moments, the stand outs of which are a scene that features a Tyrannosaurus Rex tandem bashing a mobile trailer over a cliff, as well as a sequence in which a Tyrannosaurus Rex rampages through San Diego destroying everything in its path, morphing the audience’s perception of dinosaurs from captivating, awe-inspiring creatures to truly terrifying prehistoric beasts, following the incident on Isla Nublar. However, as the runtime continues, it becomes increasingly evident that Spielberg desperately wanted to integrate as many of his own ideas into the framework of Crichton’s sequel novel as he could. A desire that ultimately results in the narrative becoming unfocused, eventually losing itself almost entirely near the end of the second act to concentrate on exciting dinosaur sequences.

Returning from the original film is Jeff Goldblum as Dr. Ian Malcolm, the remarkably entertaining pessimistic mathematician with a dry sense of humour. Accompanying Malcolm this time around is his adolescent daughter, Kelly Curtis, portrayed by Vanessa Lee Chester, and his palaeontologist girlfriend, Sarah Harding, portrayed by Julianne Moore, in addition to the other members of Hammond’s research team; wildlife photographer, Nick Van Owen, portrayed by Vince Vaughn, and tech expert, Eddie Carr, portrayed by Richard Schiff. Whilst every cast member turns in a solid performance, however, there is undoubtedly a lack of well-defined characters in The Lost World: Jurassic Park, as every character has a shortage of development beyond the dexterities they bring to their team. Roland Tembo, portrayed by the late Pete Postlethwaite, is perhaps the most compelling character of this particular entry in the series, being depicted as a jaded big-game hunter, determined to capture a male Tyrannosaurus Rex, single-handedly.

Swapping out the tidied facilities and tropical foliage of Jurassic Park for dim lighting, expansive forests and more intense violence, The Lost World: Jurassic Park‘s visuals are substantially darker than its predecessor, corresponding with the more downbeat tone of the narrative. Furthermore, the cinematography by Janusz Kaminski retains a tremendous sense of movement, while the film’s abundant use of marvellous CG effects, detailed miniatures and impressive life-sized animatronics effectively bring the dinosaurs (and a handful of locations) to life, all whilst demonstrating how far CGI had come since the first instalment in the franchise in ’93.

Once again composed by John Williams, the original score for The Lost World: Jurassic Park only contains minor hints towards the iconic theme and secondary motifs of Jurassic Park. Instead, the score houses much of its own appeal (not too dissimilar to how the visuals differ from the original film) as Williams constructs a different thematic and textural landscape for InGen’s Site B, a.k.a. Isla Sorna. As such, the soundtrack sheds much of the amazement and beauty of John Hammond’s prehistoric theme park for a more ominous soundscape. Excluding the film’s unfairly neglected theme; The Lost World, which is more wildlife adventure-inspired.

On a separate note, whilst its amusing to see franchise-staple dinosaurs like the Tyrannosaurus Rex and the Velociraptors return in The Lost World: Jurassic Park, I’ve always felt its a shame the filmmakers didn’t attempt to introduce a selection of lesser-known dinosaurs, especially with how many fantastic choices there are, as the carnivorous Alioramus, Majungasaurus and Spinosaurus (which would later appear in 2001’s Jurassic Park III), all would’ve served as significant threats and upped the ante for this much-anticipated sequel.

In summary, while it truthfully does pale in comparison to the original film, there is plenty to appreciate about The Lost World: Jurassic Park when viewed from a different perspective, as the film retains an overabundance of spectacle and exceptional visual effects, affirmed by the film’s Academy Award nomination for Best Visual Effects in 1998. Essentially, The Lost World: Jurassic Park is a perfect example of just how difficult it can be to craft an engaging sequel to a beloved cinema-altering blockbuster. Rating: 6/10.

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