The February Film (& TV Show) Review Round-Up
Welcome to our first film review round-up! Our team of writers will be reviewing the newest releases across streaming platforms and in the cinema and bringing you their thoughts on a range of films and TV shows.
Let’s get started!
The Woman in The House Across the Street from the Girl in the Window (January 2022, Netlfix)
Words by Kacie Deacon
Already, the internet is exploding with opinions and takes on this show, many calling it a satirical comedy, while others perceive it like every other mystery-thriller show on Netflix. So, which is it?
‘The Woman in the House Across the Street from the Girl in the Window’ – lengthy name it may be - follows grieving mother Anna (Kristen Bell) after she witnesses what she believes to be a horrific murder after a new, young and attractive neighbour moves in across the street. The focus on Anna’s psyche and how she tries desperately to hold on to her sense of self was interesting and deeply engaging. This take on the mystery-thriller genre has always been one of my favourites.
The miniseries spans only eight episodes, each less than half an hour long so it’s not a major investment if you want to see for yourself what has gotten the internet in yet another judgemental genre fight. While it’s up to you what you think, you’re here for an opinion so I’m going to give you one.
I, like a lot of the internet, initially believed the series to be a genuine mystery-thriller, a more serious role for Kristen Bell, straying away from what I’ve more often seen her in; comedies. I was really enjoying the character of Anna and the writing of the show as a whole in the first few episodes. Then, as the story developed, I grew confused as to what was happening and why. Why was the intricately detailed, cleverly written story becoming what I can only compare to Scary Movie? In that it has the thrilling effect while being almost critical of the writing of other thriller shows, identifying the trends that have been overdone and exhausted over the years and putting them all in one place for the audience to see. I was confused for maybe one or two episodes before evaluating whether my perception of genre was horrendously warped or considering if it was done on purpose to make me question everything I thought I knew or have ever known about thrillers, the people I know, my life, myself. In the end, I felt that it played with my mind as much as the murder did with Anna’s.
Not only this, I feel as though the social media uproar was not only expected, but planned; not only in the sense that it gets people talking about it and therefore watching it, but also mirroring Anna’s experience in believing that your perception is correct until enough people tell you that you’re wrong and you begin to question yourself. As an English Literature student, I read deeper into everything (both a blessing and a curse). What we see on the surface almost always goes deeper. I believe that the series is everything that people on the internet are claiming it to be, but also a psychological masterpiece that not everyone will be able to recognise. The twists, the development, the writing, the casting, all of it is absolutely incredible.
My only significant critique is the ending. I understand how it works in terms of having to keep the ending open for a potential second series but I sincerely hope that they don’t. It’s a great stand-alone series that really made a statement and the final scene only ruined what could have been a really cohesive, satisfying ending.
I appreciate the show in a way that was unexpected but so, so clever. It’s not what we’re used to seeing. It was unpredictable, psychological, funny, heart-breaking, and so much more than what I thought I was in for. It was a truly immersive experience that sent me through a rollercoaster of emotions. It was fantastic and the effects are evident in the debate sparked on social media. ‘The Woman Across the Street from the Girl in the Window’ deserves a lot of credit.
Licorice Pizza (January, 2022)
Words by Megan Binning
Licorice Pizza is the newest film from screenwriter, director, and producer Paul Thomas Anderson. His previous works include Punch Drunk Love, Magnolia and Boogie Nights. That means he’s a pretty big deal so many people were excited for his newest film.
Licorice Pizza tells the story of Alana Kane, a 25-year-old Jewish girl who is trying to get her grown-up self together whilstalso trying to avoid the advances of 15-year-old Gary Valentine -a child actor who cannot be deterred from auditioning for parts he is now too old for. Though Gary is a child actor he is hustling to get rich quick with one risky business venture after another.
This is a coming of age story of both Alana and Gary during the early 70s in California. On their journey to figure out their unsuspecting feelings they cross paths with a number of show-biz types and political aspirants.
Whilst Gary is hell-bent on achieving his dreams and Alana tries to navigate her way around growing up, they both lose sight of each other. Though staying attached through their ponzi schemes they each become jealous when the other takes interest in people somewhat more their ages.
Though the main plot centres around the rocky relationship between Alana and Gary, the story is much more than that. Anderson allows audiences to be distracted by the young love affair whilst behind the awkward scenes of blossoming love the story battles with some more serious issues. Racism, sexism, homophobia, the dangers of being a female in the 70s, the dangers of being young in show business and the power dynamics between age and gender. Licorice Pizza is a film about love but not about love at all.
Not only is the story in depth and honest but so is the dialogue, costume and acting. Through the dialogue and action, the film never loses its pace, it’s both calm and chaotic. Though at times it feels like you are just watching a conversation or a series of events, the precise and witty dialogue changes that.
The costume design isn’t an exaggeration or dramatised version of what the network thinks the audience would like to see but an honest portrayal of the fashion of the time. The costumes are also used to reflect the personality of each character. Gary, like the copy of the adult man he wants to be, wears powder blue suits and age-appropriate clothing on occasion. Like his character his costume is also battling between childhood and manhood. Much like Gary, Alana’s clothing shows her battle between needing to grow up, wanting to stay a child and the common sexualisation of women at the time.
For me personally, not only was the dialogue perfect but so was the acting. Cooper Hoffman (Gary Valentine) and Alana Haim (Alana Kane) are perfect for the role. They are both equally charismatic and handle their complicated characters with care and dexterity. Gary, the lovable and incredibly focused teenage goof ball and Alana, the conflicted and emotionally vulnerable young adult.
The film isn’t for everyone, let me make that clear. There are definitely great aspects of humour but at times the film does feel lackluster. However, once you really pay attention to what the story tries to say it’s a great piece.
If you already love Paul Thomas Anderson this film is the one for you!!
It’s funny, witty and battles the dark side of growing up too young and the glitz and glam of 70s Hollywood.
Uncharted (February, 2022)
Words by Nathan Hardie
The video game industry is one of the fastest growing economic sectors of modern day. From the humble beginnings of Pong in the 1970s to Minecraft reporting sales of over 200 million in the last decade, it can no longer be looked down upon by film and music production. Even your Mum knows about Fortnite. Goldeneye 007, a tie-in of the 1995 James Bond film, is arguably the first significant collaboration between cinema and video games. Its success made companies realise there was money to be made here, so every film franchise almost guarantees a playable accompaniment, even a lego-fied version for the biggest box office draws. The tide has now changed, with the success of recent blockbusters such as Detective Pikachu & Sonic the Hedgehog movies both originating from games companies - Nintendo and SEGA respectively. Despite their success, the quality of these products usually pales in comparison to their original format. With a target audience already established, less care is attributed to the spin-off, so I was quite hesitant to watch Uncharted being a fan of the games since its inception in 2007. Can it break the curse?
Uncharted is a Naughty Dog developed, action-adventure game series now turned to the big screen. Directed by Ruben Fleischer, our protagonist is Nathan ‘Nate’ Drake (Tom Holland), a history buff with piracy in his veins who uses exceptional sleight of hand skills to pickpocket strangers and make cocktails. Scouted by veteran thief Victor ‘Sully’ Sullivan (Mark Wahlberg), they embark on an adventure to find Magellan’s fortune. However, they’re not the only ones after it, competing against ultra-rich Santiago Moncada (Antonio Banderas) and his army of private mercenaries (headed up by Tati Gabrielle). There’s also Chloe Frazer (Sophia Ali), a treasure hunter Sully has formed an uneasy alliance with that has Drake hot under the collar. It’s a race against the clock around the world, littered with puzzles, booby traps and product placement. Can our heroes coexist?
It’s this question of coexisting and teamwork that leads us to the main theme of the picture: trust. There’s backstabs and betrayal aplenty throughout which pushes the story forward. The dynamic between the main characters is built on rocky foundations and fast jokes, akin to buddy cop films of the eighties. Unfortunately, a lot of the humour falls flat trying to replicate the relationship in the video game series. Lines about Tinder apps left running on Sully’s phone, a short joke deemed trailer-worthy, and an exaggerated Scottish henchman that Drake couldn’t understand fails to meet low expectations. A couple of nods towards Indiana Jones as well made me wish I was watching the Raiders Of The Lost Ark instead, a drawing point from where the video games were born from. While I understand this film is more pointed towards children, Mark Wahlberg is just not old enough to be making comments about being unable to read something without his glasses.
Where Uncharted does succeed is the action. There are quite a few scenes that implement the style of the video game well, with the characters in free flowing fights using the scenery as a weapon also in a state of flux. Taking inspiration from Jackie Chan films, Nate is always on the backfoot, relying on his agility and speed to outmanoeuvre the bulkier goons whilst clawing on for dear life. A couple of set pieces used come from the original series (the ‘crates flying out of the cargo jet’ scene presented in the trailer is lifted from Uncharted 3) but it doesn’t rely on them, just paying homage with a few subtle easter eggs. These sequences aren’t overindulgent either, at least in comparison to other modern action films, but feel few and far between amongst the large amounts of exposition. The history side is important and makes the film more interesting than it would be without it but coupling it with a brief romance angle and a backstory for the villains made the movie feel longer than it was.
Overall, I would deem Uncharted as a serviceable production. An inoffensive adventure film aimed towards children, it provides large stunts and cheap laughs but not a lot else, with only a couple of references to satiate die hard fans of the series. Sadly, it does fall into the category of poor video game films capitalising on its popularity. The treasure is merely painted gold, and the piracy occurred when I paid to watch it at the cinema.
The Souvenir Part II (January, 2022)
Words by Jonathan Buchanan
The Souvenir Part II is the spectacular second act of Joanna Hogg’s autobiographical study of love, art, and filmmaking. Warm, tender, and endlessly self-reflexive, Hogg’s latest film eschews the common pitfalls of the sequel and instead soars above 2019’s The Souvenir, developing on the ideas of its predecessor and elevating them to new heights.
In The Souvenir, film student Julie Harte (played by Honor Swinton Byrne) embarks on a tumultuous relationship with Anthony (Tom Burke), an enigmatic man whose luxurious lifestyle conceals a destructive addiction. The film astutely examines the vicissitudes of love and the challenges of filmmaking. The Souvenir Part II directly follows on from The Souvenir, with Julie grieving the devastating end of her relationship and struggling to find her feet as a director. She abandons her project of a social-realist film about working class life in Sunderland and instead decides to make a film based on her own turbulent relationship. We watch Julie’s process of creating a cinematic memorial to Anthony, experiencing in visceral detail the various funding issues and disagreements she has to navigate. Meanwhile, outside of film school, Julie slowly uncovers revelations that distort and unsettle her image of Anthony. Both on and off the filmset, she struggles to hold onto the truth of her experience amid the cacophony of external perspectives. The Souvenir Part II shows what it is to pick up the pieces after the end of a relationship – to try to readjust to reality while clinging onto the memories of an experience that was intensely private and inexpressibly personal.
Swinton Byrne stands front and centre as Julie, immaculately capturing the development from despairing student to determined filmmaker. It is hard to believe it is only her second acting performance. She features alongside a stellar array of performances from faces old and new. Tilda Swinton once again shines as Julie’s compassionate mother. Daughter and mother on screen and in real life, Honor Swinton Byrne and Tilda Swinton have an immense chemistry that creates a vivid and completely believable mother-daughter relationship. Richard Ayoade thrives in his return as the pretentious filmmaker Patrick, whose unrestrained outbursts of artistic arrogance provide some of the film’s funniest moments. New additions Joe Alwyn and Charlie Heaton are great in their roles and help to strengthen the overall ensemble.
Tonally, The Souvenir Part II is undoubtedly Joanna Hogg’s most accessible film. With a style typified by wide-angle shots, muted palettes, and sparse dialogue, Hogg’s filmmaking has often been described as austere and inaccessible. Even Martin Scorsese (who is executive producer of The Souvenir Part II) has admitted that he didn’t immediately warm to her films. The Souvenir Part II departs from the cold, digital cinematography of Hogg’s early features. Instead, it combines digital format with 35mm and 16mm to create a more vibrant and tonally diverse film. There is an undeniable warmth to the film that is unusual for Hogg. Rather than keeping the audience at arm’s length, she draws the viewer into both Julie’s mind and her own, filling the film with an intimacy and tenderness.
Through Julie’s story, Hogg has constructed a stunning portrait of an artist developing her craft amid devastating loss. It is no secret that Julie’s story mirrors Hogg’s own and recounts her experiences as a young filmmaker in the 1980s. While The Souvenir is an autobiographical film about filmmaking, The Souvenir Part II is an autobiographical film about making an autobiographical film about filmmaking. Self-reflexive to an almost dizzying extent, the film’s twisting spirals of referentiality do not detract from its heart. At its core, itis an intimate insight into the mind of a great director. From the autobiographical plot to the casting of real-life relatives, it shrinks the gap between cinema and reality, drawing the audience in to relive and grapple with a formative chapter in the filmmaker’s life. Early in The Souvenir, Anthony says to Julie that cinema isn’t about ‘life played out as is’, but ‘life as it is experienced’. In The Souvenir Part II, Hogg has presented life as she has experienced it, and the result is a triumph.
Disenchantment Series 4 (February, 2022, Netflix)
Words by Jasmine Silk
*Please note, this review contains spoliers*
Despite not initially finding huge success on Netflix, Disenchantment has built its success on the loyalty of a fairly small but adoring fanbase. The show is brilliantly designed for bingeing, constantly referring back to itself and threading together a plot so layered, you might get a bit lost if you hadn’t watched the rest of the show in the past 48 hours.
Usually, this is what makes the show so rewarding; the unique blend of Groening-style humour and long-form narrative allows you to fall in love with its recurring characters - from the protagonists to the extensive world of supporting characters around them. That’s without mentioning the incredible line up of comic actors who voice the minor characters - Noel Fielding regularly pops up as Dreamland’s executioner, Matt Berry voices a prince-turned-pig, and Richard Ayoade even takes on a recurring role as one of the show’s villains.
As the show has developed it has been getting consistently better, revealing backstories, conspiracies, and plot twists that never fail to surprise. With all the questions left by season 3 (prepare for spoilers) - the hints at Bean’s magic powers, the role of Steamland, and the death of Luci - I have honestly been desperate to see the fourth season. When I saw the trailer come out on Netflix I actually squealed.
There is typically a two year wait between seasons for Disenchantment, and each season is only 10 episodes long. That would be worse torture if it wasn’t such an easy show to re-watch; the razor sharp wit and imagination of the first three seasons have had me coming back to them ever since the first time I finished the series.
I’ve now watched season 4 twice already, but not for the same reason. When I first watched it I was disappointed but I thought maybe I’d missed something. But after a second watch the fact remains the same. It’s a disappointment.
It isn’t a bad season, it just doesn’t engage you the way the previous seasons did. The plot lines feel more convoluted and yet more predictable, the major plot points don’t have the emotional impact of their predecessors, and, perhaps worst of all, the comedy is lacking. The jokes feel reused, or fall flat; many of the characters have slipped into stereotypes of themselves - there is little of the sharp wit and sillier humour that made the previous seasons so fun to watch.
Season 4 almost feels too ambitious in places, it seems like they’ve tried to cram two seasons worth of plot into 10 episodes. We seem to skip from place to place and from plot thread to plot thread too quickly for any of them to stick in your mind. Major events are often resolved almost as soon as they happen, and plot lines will seem to begin to build and then become irrelevant by the end of the episode.
For context: in a single season there is a wedding in hell, an escape from a mental asylum, a monk retreat, a parentage reveal, at least three kingdom takeovers/attempted takeovers, two dream episodes, an underwater episode, a secret child reveal, and more that I can hardly keep track of. All in 10 episodes under half an hour long.
However, the plot lines that actually connect with the audience hardly have any screen time at all. Mora the mermaid features only briefly, Steamland is just an unnecessary stop on the way back from hell that’s over in a couple minutes and Bean’s relationships with those closest to her remain mostly stagnant. The emotional depth that Disenchantment’s treatment of mental health and close relationships usually offers is a big part of what makes it unique, but they haven’t given themselves time to create that level of connection in season 4.
Whilst it has a lot of interesting moments that make me interested to see what they’re setting up for the future, this season is not one I can see myself coming back to watch in its own right. For a show that is usually so clever, and able to pull together a plot gradually and effectively, it all feels out of character.
So here’s hoping this is a one-off, some teething problems as they build for a larger plot line. I’d still recommend watching it to anyone who is a fan of the show, but maybe keep a notepad on hand if you want to keep up, because I came away feeling like I could hardly remember half of what I’d seen.
Parallel Mothers (January, 2022)
Words by Alice Williamson
Rarely do you find a film that manages to etch itself on the hearts of its audience for longer than a few hours – Almodóvar’s ‘Parallel Mothers’ does just that.
Pedro captures the beautiful intricacies of life’s everyday moments alongside tackling grand themes: love, motherhood, rape and the legacy of the Spanish Civil War.
Parallel Mothers starts with a scene showing two women who happen to find themselves on adjacent hospital beds while giving birth. They bond over their mutual experience of being single mothers, although they are, in most other ways, worlds apart. Janis (Penélope Cruz) is a professional photographer in her late 30s, optimistic about raising her child (birthed from an affair with an archaeologist) in her beautiful flat. Ana (Milena Smit), on the other hand, was raped by a group of men and has little support from her family, leaving her worried about the prospect of bringing up a child alone.
Both babies are taken away at birth for ‘medical checks’ before being given back to the mothers: a scene which proves to be a crucial turning point. The rest of the film spans over the course of the following few years, where the mothers’ lives intertwine and overlap in unexpected ways.
The melodrama is one of multiple parallels: birth and death, innocence and tragedy, jealousy and forgiveness, hushed secrets and raw truths, non-blood ties and maternal love.
Most of the audience will, from what the trailer gives away, enter the cinema with expectations of a light comedy drama. This quickly gives way to something so much more. Its unpredictability and Pedro’s extraordinary ability to find lightness in the most sensitive, taboo topics, is what makes Parallel Mothers a masterpiece.
In one scene, Janis teaches Ana how to make a Spanish omelette. This intimate moment is captured through Almodóvar’s trademark style: close-up shots of food preparation alongside vibrant colours. Janis seems almost a maternal figure to Ana and yet the relationship between the two women never sits constant, merging from birth partners to friends to lovers. For what is one of Milena Smit’s first longform films, she portrays these shifts beautifully.
The bond and chemistry between the two female leads is ultimately what carries the film. Pedro is known for his emphasis on the feminine and in this film its role is refreshingly clear.
Ana represents the naïve individual. In one kitchen conversation Janis becomes furious with her, stressing the importance of honouring your ancestors by giving them proper burials and the role that history plays in the present. The director unearths a hidden part of Spanish history in his 22nd feature film, intertwining a narrative about the Spanish civil war and 40 years of dictatorship under Franco. Though the subplot feels a bit lost on the audience at times, there is scope to delve deeper and provide a background for those who may be learning about it for the first time.
Pablo told the New York film festival: “I wanted to create a link between the protagonist and the past, the darker side of the civil war.”