After the discovery of the lifeless body of family patriarch Harlan Thrombey, his family come together at his gothic mansion to understand what could have lead to his murder. Old resentments resurface and the reading of his will escalates matters even further. Meanwhile, a mysterious private detective is investigating… something.

At a time when remakes and sequels are de rigueur and we’ve all slogged through 23 movies in the Marvel Cinematic Universe alone, an original movie that is as fun and enthralling as Knives Out can lead to a form of ecstasy. This is the kind of film that so rarely sees the light of day any more, and it is so much more valuable for that. Knives Out is a reminder of what great cinema can and should be: a surprising laugh; a tragic mistake; a thrilling discovery.

And yet, Knives Out still needs to earn its stripes and it does so with aplomb. Paying homage to Agatha Christie while remaining stridently modern, the film is a hard one to encapsulate in a single genre. Is it a straight-out comedy? Not quite, but there are moments to make you laugh out loud, especially in seeing Captain America shed his lycra. A simple murder-mystery? Not exactly, but it certainly features many of the tropes of the oeuvre. There are elements of the caper; there are even some moments that shoot for political commentary although don’t let that put you off.

Quotable:

Marta Cabrera: I’ve never been to a will reading before.
Benoit Blanc: Think of it as a tax return by a community theater.

The entire cast seems to be loving their experience, although Chris Evans and Daniel Craig appear to particularly enjoy playing at variance to their most recent well-known characters. Craig is a revelation as private detective Benoit Blanc, a southern gentleman for whom the respect of the police detectives hints at an intriguing backstory. Johnson leaves questions about Blanc’s history unanswered, a decision that allows the film to feel deeper and more grounded. It must have been tempting to tell more of his story but thank goodness he resisted the urge.

Ana de Armas and Evans round out the leading roles, and de Armas is excellent in her part as the only one who really seems to care about Harlan’s death. Don Johnson, Jamie Lee Curtis, Michael Shannon, Toni Collette, Christopher Plummer, LaKeith Stanfield and Katherine Langford fill out an incredible leading cast. Unfortunately, a running joke about Jaeden Martell’s Jacob falls flat while Riki Lindhome’s Donna is wasted entirely and might have been excised to encourage focus.

The film moves along fairly briskly, although with a couple of brief edits to its 2h10m running time it would have been close to perfect. As released, the occasional redundancy keeps it short of that (high) mark.

Knives Out is a wonderful film and a must-see for film-lovers. This is the kind of filmmaking I wish audiences would encourage more with our box office money, rather than handing over yet more cash for yet another superhero money-maker. Please, go along and pay full-price: it’s the only way we can tell the accountants in Hollywood what we think is important.

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The show’s format has morphed several times over the years. Season 4 is basically a 7-hour movie: a completely serialised eight-episode story. Here’s the biggest difference, however: where the film was unashamedly fan-servicey, season 4 is about giving the audience what they need, not what they want.

I think people who only ever dipped their toe in the show missed out just how broken Veronica (Kristen Bell) is. That was always my favourite part of the show: the darkness hiding behind her bubbly persona. And it’s just as well, because this season really dives into that aspect of her personality. Here is someone who was raped, and her best friend killed, all before her 17th birthday. She’s been clenching her fists ever since, and it’s definitely taking its toll. Like all noir protagonists, Veronica continues to be the instrument of her own demise – don’t expect that to change anytime soon.

The most enjoyable part of this season? Watching Veronica and her dad work together as equals. She may have gained her PI licence towards the end of s3, but this is the first time we really see them working side by side as co-workers, spit balling ideas and challenging each other’s theories. The most surprising part of this season? Seeing a different, more mature Logan (Jason Dohring) who, miraculously, doesn’t feel neutered. I never thought a post-therapy Logan would be an effective character, but Rob Thomas, Diane Ruggiero-Wright and others have shown me just how good they are at writing characters that truly evolve.

There are a lot of returning faces, but unlike the movie, it never feels like overload – people show up in places that make sense. Poor old Wallace (Percy Daggs III) is again only peripherally relevant, and my one wish is that he gets a more prominent role if we get another season. The guy’s been on the sidelines since s3.

The mystery concerns a bombing in Neptune during spring break. As usual, the story is full of twists and turns, and the list of suspects is long. J.K. Simmons, Patton Oswald and Clifton Collins Jnr are the big-name additions to the cast, and both are predictably excellent. Mido Hamada plays a congressman embroiled in the mystery, and his character is the only misstep. Throughout the season, his actions make little sense, and his motivations flip-flop depending on the needs of the script.

My only other complaint is far from integral. Visually speaking, this looks nothing like the first three seasons or the film. This show always had a California-noir thing going on, with lots of exaggerated colours – neon lights, stained glass windows – that served to exaggerate the shadows lurking in the corners of Neptune. This season, however, offers nothing but flat and bland lighting. It’s weird considering TV these days is just as stylish as feature films – if anything, the visuals are less impressive than the previous incarnations.

There’s been a subtle shift here too. As you’d expect, Veronica and Logan’s relationship is different to the early years. The writing is less soap and more kitchen sink (at least in the first half of the season) and there are a several arguments between them that play out quite realistically. As someone who seems to have come through the other side of trauma, Logan is the only one who really understands how broken Veronica is, and like I said before, her flaws have never been focussed on this much before.

As a character study, this season offers some of the best writing the show has ever seen. The central mystery won’t have the watercooler edge that s1 did, but the drama will definitely remembered by fans for years to come. If you’re someone who lost interest some time in s3 or perhaps when the movie came out, I can assure you that this is a much more confident run of episodes. We fans are in an incredibly lucky position – we love the show as much as the central cast do, and Kristen Bell has said time and again that she’s prepared to return to this character for as long as she’s on this earth. Not only that, but creator Rob Thomas has shown he’s adaptable to whatever format is going (serialised network TV, case-of-the-week TV, feature film, books and now streaming TV). Long may Veronica continue.

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Richard K. Morgan’s book was first published in 2002, and the film rights were quickly sold for $1 million. It’s taken over 15 years for it to reach the screen, but for fans it’s surely been worth the wait. For those who don’t know, it’s a kind of cyberpunk detective novel. In the far-flung future, the richest of the rich can transfer their consciousness from one body to another. This is called re-sleeving. This means they are effectively immortal, and appropriately earns them the moniker of Methuselahs. When one of these Methuselah’s sleeves is ‘murdered’, he engages the help of an ex-convict, Takeshi Kovacs, to solve the mystery of his death.

It’s impossible to ignore the fact that Altered Carbon borrows heavily from the likes of Blade Runner and Ghost in the Shell. It’s not a particularly unique story, but the production values do make it stand out from other science fiction TV series, even in this current Golden Age.

Joel Kinnaman plays Kovacs, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say he’s rather wooden. There are very few actors that can brilliantly execute the downbeat, taciturn gumshoe, and he ain’t one of them. Serviceable is probably the best word for the performance.

Thankfully, his co-star, Martha Higareda, more than makes up for Kovacs’ blandness. Her police detective, Kristin Ortega, is the best part about this shoe, and her no-nonsense yet heartfelt delivery should mean she gets her own movie or series, stat. (In fact, she gets my vote if they ever adapt the “Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter” novels.) There are a tonne of supporting actors that excel in smaller roles too, including Ato Essando as a grieving ex-marine and Chris Conner as an AI self-styled after Edgar Allan Poe.

But the main problem I have with Altered Carbon is more thematic. First off, we have this great premise, with people being able to change their appearance by re-sleeving. The potential stories are legion, surely! So what do we get? Sex workers. All this storytelling potential, and our lead characters spends most of his time in strip clubs and/or brothels.

But it doesn’t stop there. What this story really needs is dead sex workers. Female dead sex workers, naturally, because if Blade Runner 2049 taught us anything, it’s that future noir is just as obsessed with dead naked women as old-fashioned noir. The number of naked women who get either ogled, beaten, raped or killed – or any combination of the above – is quite excessive for a story that could have taken its premise literally anywhere, but instead stuck with the tropes that have dogged the genre for decades.

There a lot of almost-literal white-washing going on too. Frequently. It’s like they saw a certain remake released last year and said, “Hold my drink.” What makes it worse is that Will Yun Lee, who plays the original Kovacs, gives a much more nuanced performance. He should have been the star of this show.

Apologies for the rant. I can only assume that the problems I have with Altered Carbon were also present in the source material. In my old age, I’m clearly getting fed up with science fiction – a genre that offers so many possibilities – refusing to get really creative, and instead falling back on bad habits. If you’re fresh to the science fiction noir subgenre, perhaps these things won’t bother you. I just wish Altered Carbon had some ideas to match the stunning production values and fantastic performances.

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David Suchet completed his 24-year run in the BBC Poirot adaptations four years ago, and now it seems Branagh’s ready to take the reins. His interpretation of the sleuth is distinct yet clearly honours Agatha Christie’s creation, whilst he heavily hints where he wants to take his detective for the sequel.

The only real problem with Murder on the Orient Express is that, well…if you’ve read the book or seen a different adaptation before, then you know how it ends. And it’s not the type of solution that you easily forget. In fact, out of all the Christie books I’ve read, this is one of probably only two or three where I can’t shake the reveal from my mind. This was always going to temper my enjoyment of the film.

So for those of us who’ve seen it all before, what is there to appreciate? Well, obviously we have the star-studded cast. Daisy Ridley, Johnny Depp, Willem Dafoe, Judie Dench, Josh Gad and Penelope Cruz all feature, all immaculately coifed and costumed. Thankfully it appears that all were able to be present on set at the same time too, unless it’s simply a case of visual effects coming a long way since The Expendables 2.

Speaking of VFX, the film is chock full of them. Whilst the train is stuck for most of the runtime, Branagh ensures that the backdrop is nothing short of breathtaking. The effects are mostly great, except for a couple of stumbles. More importantly, Branagh and his cinematographer, Haris Zambarloukos, know how to shoot a movie on a train. There are dozens of immaculately conceived shots, and whilst we get scene after scene set in train compartments, no one shot is the same. Despite being disappointed by Zambarloukos’ work in the single-setting film, Locke, a few years ago, here he can really let loose. Seriously, if you want to know how to shoot a scene in a confined space, this is the feature to study.

I did have trouble with some of the accents, and that might be because so many actors were mumbling their way through verbal patinas that were clearly not their own. The film does a good job of providing flashbacks or cutaways at just the right moment, so we are never confused (a problem in some murder mysteries when they talk frequently about events that have occurred off screen.)

Murder on the Orient Express is an enjoyable murder mystery, and Branagh’s interpretation of the character can sit comfortably next to Suchet’s. Recommended.

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Fast forward to 2017 and the $150 million sequel is struggling in the box office. It was aiming for a $50 million opening weekend and only clawed back $31 million. It’s almost like they didn’t realise Blade Runner was always a niche film. Hugely influential, yes, but never cinema for the masses.

This film is set 30 years after the original, and features a new Blade Runner in the process of retiring replicants. The fact that this particular agent, K (Ryan Gosling), is a newer model of replicant himself, adds an extra layer of complexity to his job.

Denis Villeneuve’s film honours the original about as much as you’d hope. This is a director who’s yet to helm a bad production, and it’s incredible to think he handles such a daunting task with aplomb. The pace is just as sluggish as the 1982 film (seriously, whenever I rewatch the original, I oscillate between finding it entrancing and being more than a little bored), whilst the visuals are different yet complementary. There’s Villeneuve’s usual sense of impending dread, and his direction is fantastic.

Hans Zimmer and Benjamin Wallfisch’s score references Vangelis’ classic work in a cursory sense, particularly at the start and at the very end, but most of the time we’re safely ensconced in the regular Zimmer sound, with pounding drums and droning synths. It’s a pity Jóhann Jóhannsson left the project, because I’m interested to see what his score would have been like.

The acting is very, very good, and Gosling does an exemplary job of being just as taciturn as Deckard in the original. Sylvia Hoeks, Mackenzie Davis and Robin Wright are all excellent, and we should all stop being surprised each time we learn that Dave Bautista is a really, really good actor. Of course, Harrison Ford is present, not to mention a couple of other actors from the original. The story goes in some interesting directions too, and successfully extrapolates from the-created-confronts-their-creators vibe that Ridley explored in the original (and in his Alien prequels, to be honest.)

Here’s the thing though: Blade Runner 2049 is pretty darn sexist. All the female characters fall into the innocent/fallen woman category, and they’re usually at the receiving end of horrific violence and/or naked. I appreciate that this is noir, which loves the whole Madonna/whore dichotomy, but the likes of “Veronica Mars” and “Jessica Jones” have shown us that feminist noir is entirely possible. And to be honest, the original didn’t feel this sexist, even if you could argue that Deckard always was.

The other big problem is the runtime. At 164 minutes, it’s a really hard slog. The final act could have had a good chunk taken out of it without losing anything important. Also, I’m no hater of Jared Leto, but his few scenes are extraneous, and slow the film down even more.

At the end of the day, this is nowhere near as bad as it could have been. I have no doubt that if Ridley Scott himself had been behind the camera, rather than simply producing, it would have been much worse. And one can’t deny that Villeneuve is a master of his craft. It’s just such a pity the screenplay fails in a couple of significant areas. It’s a worthy sequel – and a feast for the eyes – yet nowhere near the masterpiece that some critics have proclaimed.

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Within the first ten minutes, I could see why the book turned out to be so popular. An incredible opening couple of scenes have you hooked from the get-go. If you want an example of how to capture your audience’s attention within moments, then you couldn’t find much better than this. Aside from a single instance of gratuitous narration that never returns, director Rachel Perkins’ film oozes confidence. The cinematography is brilliant, the score is strong if ever-so-slightly over the top, whilst the performances impress.

The film relies heavily on nostalgia, and feels 5000% Australian. Racism and sexism lurk around the edges of the interpersonal drama, though there isn’t anything particularly nuanced about the depiction. It’s enough to spark dialogue amongst Year 7 students, however.

Toni Collette, Hugo Weaving, Dan Wyllie and Matt Nable round out the adult cast, whilst Miller is great as the central protagonist. Rice, of course, acts the pants off everyone around her, including the adults…but after These Final Hours and The Nice Guys, we already knew this. Kevin Long is another stand-out as Jeffrey Lu (though his name is mysteriously missing from the cast list on IMDb). McGrath is good enough as Jasper, though the script doesn’t afford him the same opportunities it does Charlie and Eliza.

And herein lies my central issue with the film. The eponymous character barely features. It’s one thing to include an Aboriginal supporting character, but it’s another to name the story after him, despite the startling lack of depth afforded to his story. Jasper Jones may be the title of the film, but we’re almost in (500) Days of Summer territory here – he’s there to set Charlie on his path. His continued absence through much of the running time didn’t feel right at all.

Despite this, Jasper Jones is a beautifully made film. The mystery at its heart is compelling, the production values are wonderful and the pacing is perfect. Unless someone can tell me that this differs drastically from the source material, my only complaints presumably stem from the novel itself.

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Amy Adams plays Dr Louise Banks, a renowned linguist called upon to initiate communication between the human race and the newly-arrived aliens who’ve parked their massive spaceships in a dozen locations around the globe. She is accompanied by scientist Ian Donnelly (Jeremy Renner) and overseen by Colonel Weber (Forest Whitaker).

The build up towards each reveal is brilliant, and recalls the best bits of Close Encounters of the Third Kind. In fact, mix that film with Robert Zemeckis’ Contact and you’d have a good sense of Arrival. The visuals are cold and stark, whether we are talking about Louise’s absurdly large lake house or the mysterious monoliths that hover above the Earth, waiting for us mere Earthlings to initiate contact. The visuals are wonderfully complemented by the absurdly hardworking Jóhann Jóhannsson, who’s fast becoming one of the most in-demand composers working right now. His haunting work here dabbles in the genres of drone and dark ambient, and crucially never distracts from the events onscreen.

The slow reveal of the ship and its occupants is a masterclass in building anticipation, and I constantly found myself trying to look around the corners of the film frame, desperate to see that which was just out of sight. The step-by-step nature of learning a completely alien language is also fascinating, as are all the unique attributes of the aliens and their craft. I also liked that Louise didn’t have some kind of childhood calling like Jodie Foster’s character in Contact; she was simply really, really good at her job.

Renner’s role is less than satisfactory. Initially we’re led to believe that Ian’s scientific method will be at odds with Louise’s focus on language, yet it’s never really explained what his speciality is. He just kind of loiters in the background, helping out Louise. He isn’t the focus of the film and that’s fine, but I would have appreciated some character development on his part.

Despite the title, for me Arrival was all about the journey; the destination is less thrilling. The final act is acceptable, but nowhere near as brilliant as the slow build that comprises the bulk of the film. However, this is a masterfully crafted feature, and one that deserves to be seen on the big screen.

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So what’s changed? Not that much. Whilst the plot concerns events of titanic proportions – Langdon out to stop the spread of a virus that will annihilate a good portion of the Earth’s population – the film feels even more contained than Angels & Demons. Considering the epic nature of The Da Vinci Code‘s conspiracy, the cinematic sequels have always felt underwhelming.

As with the first two films, it’s clear that expository dialogue works better in book form. Once again, Hanks is forced to lead a whistle stop tour through various museums whilst the film’s editor does his best to make looking at statues and paintings for clues exciting. He’s accompanied this time by the-woman-who-would-have-been-Blackcat, Felicity Jones. The pairing isn’t as successful as that of Hanks and Tautou in the first film, and we’re never given a good enough reason as to why this nurse, Sienna Brooks, simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, would be so willing to help Robert.

Even more disappointing is the fact that the supporting cast fail to make any great impression. Omar Sy, Ben Foster (playing a crazy guy? No way!), Sidse Babett Knudsen and Ana Ularu are all bland and forgettable, with Irrfan Khan being the only actor to really impress. His enigmatic Provost is effortlessly amusing and disturbing, and Khan is surely an actor that’s next in line to play a Bond villain.

Hans Zimmer’s score seems to eschew traditional instruments in favour of an almost purely synth sound. At first this bothered me, but by the time the glorious climactic track appeared – ‘The Cistern’ – I was once more in musical heaven. There’s nothing that you haven’t heard from Zimmer in the past ten years here – including Inception BRRAAWWRNWMMMMS – but it worked for me.

As a high-paced thriller, Inferno works well enough. There are a couple of embarrassingly contemporary narrative beats, like Langdon being tracked through a park by a remote control drone, or Sienna accessing a share car via swipe card. The only other interesting element of note would be arguably the best Stygian vistas we’ve seen since 2005’s Constantine. Don’t expect too much and you mightn’t be disappointed.

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Brody gets mad props for his incredible Aussie accent. Once or twice I heard an American edge creeping into his pronunciation, but for the most part he does a fantastic job. He has a wonderfully melancholic and thoughtful visage – one that’s perfectly suited to a film of this nature. Because of when he hit the big time in The Pianist, he only got to do The Village and The Jacket before thrillers started to fall out of fashion in Hollywood. Seeing him once more in this genre is exciting to say the least. Neill is of course as reliably awesome as ever, whilst I desperately wanted to see more of Robin McLeavy’s character, Sergeant Henning.

Part of my genuine love for this film has to do with the fact that we don’t see as many of its kind as we used to. Whilst we saw thrillers on our screens in the 90s and early 2000s, they’ve died out, leaving us with micro-budget indies or $200 million superhero movies. There’s something so enticing about the ever-so primal storytelling present in thrillers, and it’s something I miss. If this film had come out the same time as The Sixth Sense or The Others, I’m sure it would have passed me by. But here and now, it was just what I needed.  The first act is actually quite dreamlike, such that I was put in mind of the underrated Stay.

Backtrack is stylishly shot. The cinematography never gets too flashy, but we’re treated to some confident camera moves when it really counts. Such techniques make the jump scares work perfectly. It’s all accompanied by a great score courtesy of Dale Cornelius. The Blu-ray presentation looks beautiful, whilst there are some snippets of interviews also included in the special features.

At the end of the day, you’ll probably have seen this kind of movie before, but it’s hard to go past a thriller like this – featuring the likes of Brody, Neill and McLeavy, no less – when such films are so thin on the ground.

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The Absent One doesn’t have the same race-against-the-clock narrative that The Keeper of Lost Causes had, but of course our leads are still kicking against the pricks because, well, it just wouldn’t be the same if they had the full support of their workplace, would it?

This is a slickly produced film. It looks and sounds great, the pacing is perfect the editing is impressive. The colour palette is consistently pretty – dark when it has to be, colourful at other times – and it looks great on DVD (alas, it’s not available on Blu-ray.)

There isn’t anything breathtakingly original here, however. This is a standard mystery/thriller, with emphasis on the thriller part since we’re often a step ahead of our two detectives. Disappointingly, the story is very traditional in its presentation of female characters too. By this I mean the only women present are assault victims, drug addicts, prostitutes or otherwise “fallen” women. The only strong or vaguely positively presented woman is, well, Carl and Assad’s secretary. It’s depressing that, in this day and age, the crime genre is still steeped in conventions such as this.

I’ve grown to like Kaas’ performance as Carl a little more this time around, and once more Fares steals the show with an effortlessly charismatic performance as his more sociable offsider. The world of cinema needs more Fares Fares.

I’m keen to see 2016’s follow-up, A Conspiracy of Faith (Flaskepost fra P), though it would be nice if the stories were able to step out of the generic and into something a bit more progressive.

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