What a mistake it is for a woman to wait for a man to build the world that she wants instead of creating it herself.

So I’m going to keep this review short as I do not want to give anything away. Audiences should watch Endgame with a ‘spoiler-free’ mind, the only way that one can enjoy this film at the highest level. I didn’t think that ENDGAME was as good as INFINITY WAR, but as the title suggests I still loved it. There were only a couple of ‘imperfect’ things, the most notable being the pacing. The beginning was extremely slow, and it took a while before the story actually got going, but it was understandable considering this was the aftermath of the dire consequences of Infinity War. And the second aspect was that there were a couple of characters I expected were going to have more screen time and more relevance to the story, but instead, they fizzled and diminished quickly away probably so that the story could concentrate on the first main characters of the original Avengers film. Despite these minor flaws, for me, it was the end that made the film so magical, so incredible, and so emotional. I had tears, and because of the fact that there were other people in the cinema, I somehow controlled my emotions so that I would not cry and wail like a three year old toddler. The ending was a homage to itself, and if it was any other movie this would probably be quite arrogant, but what the film shows is how incredible the MCU has, for over a decade, created worlds and characters through 22 films that many a population has dedicated and invested their time, money, and emotion. You don’t need me to tell you to watch it, the film has already taken over $1.2 billion after five days of its release. Just a word of advice: bring some tissues. RATING: 8.5/10

(Vue Cinema London - West End (Leicester Square), 3 Cranbourn Street Leicester, London WC2H 7AL, United Kingdom, Showtimes.SAT, JUN 26, 12:00 PM ● 5:15 PM ● 7:00 PM ● 9:15 PM) "Supernova" Sam (Colin Firth) and Tusker (Stanley Tucci), partners of twenty years, are traveling across England in their old camper van visiting friends, family, and places from their past. Following a life-changing diagnosis, their time together has become more important than ever until secret plans test their love like never before. "Supernova" is a modern love story about a couple struggling with a diagnosis of early-onset dementia who take a road trip together to reconnect with friends, family and places from their past. Sam and Tusker have spent 20 years together, and they're as passionately in love as they've ever been. But in the two years since Tusker was diagnosed with early onset dementia, their lives have had to change. As Tusker’s condition progresses, Sam is forced to place his life on hold and become his partner’s full-time caregiver. Their time together has become the most important aspect of their lives and every moment they share has a weight it once did not. So, they plan a road trip while Tusker is still able to travel, to see friends and family and revisit memories from their long life together. While Tusker had once been Sam’s rock, it now falls to Sam to take control, and he's resolved to give his beloved partner as much joy and normalcy as he can muster. But his outer resolve belies an internal struggle to manage that colors their every moment. Meanwhile, Tusker knows that his condition is having an overwhelming effect on both their lives, and that he's beginning to lose control. As their trip together progresses, their individual ideas for their future begin to collide. Secrets are uncovered, private plans unravel, and their love for each other is tested like never before. Ultimately, they must confront the question of what it means to love one another in the face of Tusker’s incurable illness. A supernova is the massive explosive event at the end of the evolution of a star. This is representative of Tusker himself, a man who shines bright in all he does, brings light and laughter to almost every situation and is, of course, dying. It’s quite literal in that regard. He knows his final chapter is just around the corner. Tusker is a man who wants to be well, a man who wants to be in control. Outwardly, Tusker’s life seems pretty normal most of the time, but inwardly he’s being slowly and absolutely unraveled by his condition. When you’re dealing with something so deeply felt, and with a condition that changes so many people’s lives in the way dementia does, it’s a moral imperative to do it right. Sam is the self-pitying character of the piece. He’s a person being asked to make a huge sacrifice for the person he loves. It’s ironic, because it’s not happening to Sam. Sam has to be relieved of his self-pity by Tusker, the man who’s truly having to deal with this. That plays as part of the dynamic. It's a very interesting question to ask; who’s the caretaker? Sam and Tusker set against huge ideas concerning love, memory, identity, and end of a life. Indeed, the intertwined nature of these two aspects is reflected in the film’s title, "Supernova", which refers directly to Tusker’s interest in the night sky, but also to the context of this intimate story in the vast space of the universe. The scenes under the night sky, gazing at stars, echo the insignificance of the human race in the greater scheme of things, but you’ve also got these intimate moments between two characters. We don’t see them at home. We don’t really know much about their lives at all. There’s a kind of propulsion that being on the road gives you, a mechanism, with cogs turning. As a way of framing the film, it seemed like an effortless way to take these characters from A to B, and through it, you’re afforded the possibility to bring in all of this incredible scenery and the beautiful natural world, which is very important when you’re talking about the big questions of life. This interesting, microcosmic world in which we find these two people has even more resonance and appeal than it might have done otherwise. You’re challenged with the task of doing justice to a character, and it may sound a little highfalutin, but we feel there’s something quite sacred about that. At around the film’s midway point, Sam and Tusker visit Sam’s childhood home, now inhabited by his sister Lilly (Pippa Haywood) and her husband Tim (James Dreyfus). It’s a joyous section of the film, where everyone has come together. Everything inside the house feels like a big, warm hug. A safe space before the real darkness of the story unfolds. So, it’s a place of respite for them, a place of comfort and familiarity. There's a similar transformation for the cottage at 'Supernova’s' climax, though it's contrasted against Sam’s family home by a cold and clinical sensibility. "Supernova" is about versions of young-onset dementia that has played out in very different ways. We know so little about it. And especially when it comes to young-onset dementias, there’s a lot we don’t know. We're learning new things about these conditions on a monthly basis. You've to understand that the perception of dementia, as being a condition characterized solely by memory loss, is inaccurate. Ultimately, if you've any type of dementia, at any age, it will eventually end up with 'Alzheimer’s', which involves total memory loss, but actually a lot of the different types of dementia have nothing to do with memory for a long time. The film wants to find out more about this disorder specifically, as well as the vital debate around end-of-life choices; one that still rages to this day in many countries around the world. It's a story that frames a same-sex relationship in an original manner. To present a loving relationship for which the sexuality of the characters didn’t in any way shape the narrative. A film about long-term partners who are bound together by their deep love for each other, whilst being pushed apart by the situation they find themselves in. The characters and themes in "Supernova" reflect our attempt to do these people and their stories justice in a truthful and original manner, to place a selfless, loving relationship in the context of an immediate future that hangs in the balance. It's an intimate, self-contained tale that investigates some of the biggest human questions of all: how we live and love and laugh, even as we near the end of our time. The film talks about death and loss through the very simple, human days surrounding it. The score takes a lead in three key moments of transition; the journey to the lake, to Lilly’s house, and to the cottage, and each transitional scene takes us from one emotional state to another. The idea is to exist within these limitations, and have something that sounded intimate and familiar. While the story plays out, and grand vistas roll past us on screen, the string players breath and fingers and seat shuffles are present, hopefully making it sound human. Like friends with their arms around you. If death does one thing well, it’s to shine a stark spotlight on life, and the love we feel for one another, or even just the beauty of the hills and fields around us. It's journey away from the complex cognitive outer layer that once defined them, through the jumble and tangle of emotions created through their life experiences, to the center of their being That really resonates with the way the film portrays the relationship with the condition and with each other. It’s now just the two of them trying to reach each other and wrestle with the questions of cognition and choice, because that’s one of the harshest things about this, is feeling choice has been taken away. Indeed, dementia does not discriminate, and though cinema has a long and rich history of gay storytelling that directly examines sexuality, the film reflects a shared experience through the lens of a committed, long-term relationship between two men. You could easily swap it out for a heterosexual couple, and it wouldn’t matter. But equally, the fact it’s a gay couple adds a whole other element to it. How with love, trust, and compassion, it’s possible to make this difficult stage of life empowering and life-affirming, not only for the person that’s dying, but for the people around them. The older we get, the more we feel that the specific and the universal are connected. Looking at big themes as big themes just always feels like it gets you nowhere, if that’s all you’re doing. Equally, everyday realities, if you’re attempting to detach them from anything wider, then it’s a dead end as well. All sorrows are alike. But we think if you’re trying to make something that has a universal resonance, the way in is through the very personal and the very specific, and this film is a study in that.

(Release Info London schedule; Fri Jun 18, Sat Jun 19, Sun Jun 20, Mon Jun 21, Tue Jun 22, Wed Jun 23, Thu Jun 24, Picturehouse Central, Piccadilly Circus, 13 Coventry Street, LONDON W1D 7DH, United Kingdom, • 4:00 PM • 6:40 PM • 9:20 PM Curzon Soho, 99 Shaftesbury Avenue, LONDON W1D 5DY, United Kingdom, • • 6:00 PM • 9:10 PM) "In The Earth" As the world searches for a cure to a disastrous virus, Martin Lowery (Joel Fry), a scientist, and Zach (Reece Shearsmith), a park scout, venture deep in the forest for a routine equipment run. Through the night, their journey becomes a terrifying voyage through the heart of darkness, the forest coming to life around them. We come to learn that the forest has a voice of it's own. The film as a medium of light and sound and there's a way where light and sound are a feature of it. Also, bringing forward the lighting like strobe lights and music into the movie so they're actually legitimately there. The Olivia Wendle (Hayley Squires) character is actually playing music for half the movie. Not like the score is going to be an underscore, a load of dialogue just to make things tenser, it’s actually going to be it's own character. That kind of formal experimentation is allowed within the structure of the script itself and the film has that right from the beginning. The four main characters continually surprise the audience with the duality of their behavior. Some more subtle than the others. It's about human characters that are skilled. They aren't useless; they've skill sets that are very different from each other. And you can believe that they're able to do the things that they do but they aren't necessarily super tough. They're not straight up tropes. The film wants you to understand them a bit more because you know that they're human. It's kind of us thinking of ideas about folk, horror, and about the construction of myth. There's always a seed of truth in it somewhere but the trapping around it may be absolute nonsense. In this movie, there’s a lot of different perspectives on this thing they can’t understand. Are the characters creatures of the mechanics of the plot or are they real people that have to deal with a set of situations. So that’s the difference in writing. The film is shot in the forest with very few people but a lot of life. The film has this moments where the characters think about what's happening to them, you see in Jackie Chan movies sometimes, when each other and then they stop and recover and then they start fighting again, and you think 'they're hurt really bad'. At the end Zach, going from being a villain and a threat to being really vulnerable really quick. This is also what happens when you hurt yourself, your gravity changes and you become a child. It’s part of the humanness in storytelling; to put you in a situation of understanding where there's humor in these things and you can laugh, but you’re also afraid of it. "In The Earth" follows a scientist and a park scout into the forest as a disastrous virus grips the planet; without sounding naive. The film is contextualized in the moment. Movies that had been made during the pandemic feel very old-fashioned. No one is talking about what has just happened. Covid is going to mark a generation. It feels like making a film in 1946 and not referencing the fact that everyone had just gone through the second world war. To talk about this moment. Make something about the experience we've right now. The movie projects into the future, but the future keeps catching up to the film. You can almost go into that Sam Fuller space, where you’re ripping movies from the headlines and you’re making stuff that does feel like reportage. It’s kind of the antidote to the fact that Disney is already planning films for the next 10 years and announcing them. When they do that it can feel like nothing new is ever going to happen. The genre dictates itself by budget. The movies they're making then are not much money and did not take much time. Having more and more money, and more and more time doesn’t necessarily make things better and better. Genre cinema should be shot fast, solving problems on the fly, really having to use your imagination. The script is not very descriptive. more like haikus. So, if you draw something and go ‘I want this room to be this shape to make this shot work’ that’s brilliant, but if you can’t control that room, then you can’t achieve the drawing and then you’re thinking about two things at once rather than being in the current space and time, trying to actually make it work. And with practical prosthetic effects, how far can you take the audience? How far can you push them and confound them with comedy and horror at the same time? They're not gags, but 'should I be laughing' is more of the question. It’s part of the anxiety of the design of those things. And that's what horror cinema should be. It takes the moment that we're living in and puts it into a genre.

Two sisters with vastly different sexual experiences get snowed into an abandoned theater where they form a relationship with a mysterious runaway. Proof of concept short film for feature script. https://vimeo.com/288986718

(Alcarràs' showtimes in Today 13 JAN London ICA Cinema, Institute of Contemporary Arts, The Mall, St. James's, 18:20 The Garden Cinema, Parker Street, 20:40 Barbican Cinemas 2 & 3, Beech Street, Barbican, 14:55 17:50 Ciné Lumière, 17 Queensberry Place, Kensington, 15:50) "Alcarràs" As far as they can remember, the Solé family have spent every summer picking the peaches from their orchard in Alcarràs, a small village in Spain. But this year’s crop could be their last, as they face eviction. The new plans for the land include cutting down the peach trees and installing solar panels, which causes a rift within the large tight-knit family. For the first time, they face an uncertain future and risk losing more than their home. Alcarràs is a tiny village in deepest Catalonia, where the families grow peaches. They inherited the land and it's care. It's about to value our family’s legacy and their dedication to farming. We learn to appreciate the trees they cultivate as something that could someday be destroyed. This is how the plot of “Alcarràs” comes to live, a family of farmers, the Solés, are about to lose their peach trees as the owner wants to put solar panels in his fields. Human beings have cultivated the land in family groups since the Neolithic. It’s the most ancient profession of all time. But the truth is that the story of the Solé family comes at a time when this way of agriculture is no longer sustainable. There's the real question of what agriculture means to us today. The film wants to pay a nostalgic but unsentimental tribute to the last resistant families of farmers still hanging on to their traditions. This is also a film about family relationships, generational tensions and the importance of unity in times of crisis. It's conceived as an ensemble piece due to our desire to express what it means to be part of a huge family. Crossed dialogues, opposed energies, chaos, small but meaningful gestures, emotions that cause domino effects. Each member of the Solé family tries to find their own place just as they're about to lose their common identity. We see non-professional actors from the area of Alcarràs who've a real attachment to the land. In order to present themselves as a real family, they spent so much time together that now they call each other by their character's names. "Alcarràs" tells the story of a large family of farmers. It's a chronicle of a death foretold. The Solé family learns they will have to leave the land they’ve cultivated for three generations near the Catalonian country town of Alcarràs at the end of the summer. The owner wants to uproot their peach trees to put solar panels in his fields. The family gathers to pick the last harvest, but their differences about how to face an uncertain future threaten their unity. This is an ensemble piece where each member of the Solé family tries to find their own place in the crisis, at the very moment when their shared identity is at risk. On one hand, the film is a reflection on agriculture today. Many believe that the land should belong to those who work it, and the Solé family has been farming the same fields for many years. But they only arrived at an unofficial understanding with the owner during the Spanish Civil War. Now a contract is worth more than any verbal agreement, and the new owner wants them to leave. Human beings have cultivated the land in small family groups since the Neolithic. It’s the oldest job of all time. But the truth is that the Solé's story comes at a moment when this way of doing agriculture is no longer sustainable. Big companies buy the land to cultivate it extensively, the low fruit prices force the replacement of trees in exchange for higher yield uses, and young farmers leave their homes to try to find other employment. The models are changing, an old world is ending, and the film is a nostalgic tribute to the last families of farmers who still resist. Despite the bad auguries, we hope ecological agriculture will be the bright tomorrow for those who want to keep cultivating the land in small groups. This is a reflection on the need of adaptation, as the film portrays the last days of a universe that it's inhabitants believed to be eternal. It’s also a reflection on the lack of communication between family members, and how sometimes everything would be easier if we said out loud what we think and how we feel. We think of "Alcarràs' as an action movie. There are no explosions, gunfights, or spectacular special effects, but the characters live on an emotional roller coaster that shakes up their relationships. Everyone has their own axe to grind, but they all need to find a way to live together. Agriculture is something that affects us all; it’s what we get to eat every day. Thinking about who provides us with food and how they do it's something we should all do. Structurally, the replacement of traditional farming by the agricultural industry is a world-wide phenomenon. Written by Gregory Mann

Now I will be upfront about this I am a complete sucker for coming of age movies and tend to like them more than other people, however 'The Kings of Summer' (Vogt-Roberts, 2013) is one of the best ones I have ever seen and deserves it place alongside 'Stand by Me' (Reiner, 1986) in the pantheon of great coming of age movies and more than that great movies generally. 'The Kings of Summer' principal character is Joe played brilliantly by Nick Robinson (Not the BBC's political correspondent). He is a young man still dealing with the loss of his mother and not very much not getting on with his father Frank played by the always funny Nick Offerman. This is the heart of the storycan Joe reconnect with his father, just like the story of 'Stand by Me' is actually about Gordie (Wil Wheaton) coming to terms with his brother's death. What is important about both these stories is the plot is not principal about either of these things. It is just an underlying message. It is this added emotional toll which makes both of these films so great. But along with the emotional toll of the film, it is important for me to say that the 'The Kings of Summer' is undoubtedly one of the funniest films you will see. Here is one of the many great quotes: "Joe: Vicki's making eyes at you man. Go talk to her. She's so into it. Biaggio: There's no point in me talking to her anyway. Joe: Why not? Biaggio: Joe, I'm gay. Joe: Are you sure? Biaggio: Yes, my lungs fill up every time the seasons change. Joe: That's not being gay, Biaggio. Biaggio: What? Joe: Pretty sure that's Cystic Fibrosis. Biaggio: Oh". The Scriptwriting by Chris Galletta is full of these brilliant moments of wit. Anything the character of Biaggio (Moises Arias) is just brilliantly funny. He delivers his lines so perfectly. He is such a strange character that he easily could have become very hate-able but Moises Arias treads the line brilliantly and makes Biaggio just about a character you can believe in. The director of this film Jordan Vogt-Roberts has since moved onto direct a huge Hollywood blockbuster namely 'Kong: Skull Island' (Vogt-Roberts, 2017). The leap from 'The Kings of Summer' a  coming of age comedy, to what is presumably going to be a much darker action movie is a large leap. But based on how well Jordan Vogt-Roberts handled 'The Kings of Summer' it should be no issue for the talented director. 'The Kings of Summer' is an ultra feel good movie, brilliantly written, acted, shot and directed. We are starting to go into Autumn now but see the summer out in style along with the 'Kings'. Thanks for reading, hope to hear from you. Website and videos https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vWZwfixftlA https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tiKJfO7eJOo http://collider.com/kings-of-summer-poster-giveaway/ Image by Jon Wilcox one of five done by some talented artists. Bibliography Stand by me (1986) Directed by Rob Reiner USA: .The kings of summer (2013) Directed by Jordan Vogt-Roberts USA: .Kong: Skull island (2017) Directed by Jordan Vogt-Roberts USA: . Citations, Quotes & Annotations Stand by me (1986) Directed by Rob Reiner USA: .(Reiner, 1986)The kings of summer (2013) Directed by Jordan Vogt-Roberts USA: .(Vogt-Roberts, 2013)Kong: Skull island (2017) Directed by Jordan Vogt-Roberts USA: .(Vogt-Roberts, 2017)

(Glasgow Film Festival: Glasgow Film At Home, Sun 07 Mar to Wed 10 Mar) https://glasgowfilm.org/glasgow-film-festival/shows/gunda-n-c-12 "Gunda" Experiential cinema in it's purest form, "Gunda" chronicles the unfiltered lives of a mother pig, a flock of chickens, and a herd of cows with masterful intimacy. Using stark, transcendent black and white cinematography and the farm's ambient soundtrack, the film invites the audience to slow down and experience life as his subjects do, taking in their world with a magical patience and an other worldly perspective. "Gunda" asks us to meditate on the mystery of animal consciousness, and reckon with the role humanity plays in it. In the film’s opening sequence, the titular sow gives birth to a litter of squealing piglets, and over the next several segments, the film follows Gunda and her offspring as they begin to explore the world around them. Yet one is keenly aware that Gunda and her offspring are part of a man-made system of supply, and human intervention looms, unseen and mostly unheard, over the film like a specter. Gunda is the protagonist of this gentle black-and-white documentary triptych. She takes care of her little ones, accompanies them on a journey of discovery and then takes a break to recharge her batteries. She tentatively approaches the camera. Gunda is on the screen for over half of the runtime of the final film and is an extraordinarily powerful character; you do not need an interpreter to understand her emotions and experiences. Does she know what her fate is? What might she be thinking? What does she think of us? Gunda is one of several hundred million pigs that inhabit the planet, alongside a billion cattle, represented in the film by two gracefully mooing cows, and over 20 billion chickens, exemplified here by a one-legged chicken stumbling its way through the world. Whether rooting through the mud, swatting away flies or searching for worms, they all are heroes. A mother sow, two ingenious cows, and a scene-stealing, one-legged chicken, remind us of the inherent value of life for all beings. By returning a pig's gaze, listening to a cow's gentle lowing, or observing a chicken find it's wings, "Gunda" voids any pretension that we're unique in our capacity for emotion, consciousness or will. Immersed in these animal's lives, lived to the full in joy and pain, it becomes inescapable that humankind must swiftly undertake the major changes necessary to end mass exploitation of our fellow creatures. Our indignation about the ignorance of humans in general and the degradation of these creatures in particular flows into his conceptually minimalist, but visually brilliant meditation. An intervention in the form of a modest gesture. A film that ascribes majestic greatness to the underdogs. And makes us think. In the very least, the vastness of the living world, we share our planet with billions of farm animals. However, in industrialized societies we're conditioned to ignore the sentience of these animals, often regarded as a passive resource. Audiences accustomed to the cuddly, anthropomorphic barnyard animals in films like "Babe" and "Charlotte's Web" may be startled to see pigs in a fresh light. The up-close, fine-grained detail of the film’s black and white images proves these creatures to be as complex and fascinating as their wild counterparts. The documentary forces us to reconsider our relationship to the humble yet majestic creatures that we think of as food. For a few hundred years, it's important to establish respect for the value of human life. It took centuries to even acknowledge that all human beings deserve the same rights. Perhaps now we can take the next step and admit that every living creature has similar rights. Pigs, butterflies, elephants , all of them have the same rights to live on this planet. We shouldn’t always put ourselves in the center. We can do better than that. We're not totally awful. We did eventually come to the conclusion that slavery was unjust, we've started to respect the rights of women, of people of different genders, and to me that's a sign that we're increasing our understanding of the world. The film focuses on the conflict between human activity and it's environment. There absolutely is a common thread. Historically there's an overall acceptance by humanity that we've dominion over non-humans, that their lives are inherently less valuable than ours. History is written by the victors. We won the history of the earth for now, but who knows what happens next. The idea is very simple; we as humans are ready to change our attitudes to our fellow beings. That might be a very optimistic perspective, but at least there are some hints as to why it might be possible. Our entire treatment of animals is based on misconception. In some countries there are laws statin outright that animals don’t suffer, it’s written into the very fabric of the law. This is absurd. Everyone who's in regular contact with animals knows that they feel, they've emotions, they're conscious. We know this is the truth but have tacitly agreed to disregard our empirical knowledge. Instead we deny them their natural lives. If people believe that humans have souls, they should agree that animals have souls too. Documentary cinema is a great tool to show the realities of the world, to show things that we do not see by ourselves, that we do not want to see, or that we've collectively agreed that we do not see, and so we allow ourselves not to think about. "Gunda" is a mesmerizing perspective on sentience within animal species, normally, and perhaps purposely, hidden from our view. Displays of pride and reverence, amusement and bliss at a pig’s inquisitive young; her panic, despair and utter defeat in the face of cruel trickery, are validations of just how similarly all species react and cope with events in our respective lives. The film crafts a visceral meditation on existence that transcends the normal barriers that separate species. It's a deeply attempt to renew our vision of life and meditate on the mystery of all animal consciousness, including our own. "Gunda" is a film without patronizing or humanizing them, without any sentimentality, and without vegan propaganda. We cannot stop people from doing what they do, but perhaps we can at least make them look more closely at what it's they're denying or destroying. Films cannot change this world, but still we feel we've to do something.

"Strange Way Of Life" /10/06/23/Picturehouse Clapham/13:10)     Silva (Pedro Pascal) crosses the desert that separates his ranch from the town of Bitter Creek on horseback. He's going to visit Sheriff Jake (Ethan Hawke), a friend from his youth, when both worked as hired gunmen. The action takes place in 1910, and the two men are in their fifties. Silva is of Mexican origin, a solid guy, emotional, elusive, a cheat, if necessary, warm. It's been twenty-five years since he last saw Sheriff Jake, blond, strict, cold, inscrutable, almost the opposite to Silva. That night, at the Sheriff's house, they eat a meat stew Jake has cooked, they drink, and they make love, all of it in abundance. The next morning, Silva wants the party to continue, but he finds a stony Jake, who's nothing like the man from the night before. This is the sequences that follow that orgiastic night in which both characters confront their past and their present in totally different ways. This is the heart of the story, the argument while they get dressed the following morning. In this argument, the ulterior motives are revealed, as well as the passion that they lived when they were younger, and that's still beating within them, even though Jake doesn't want to admit it once they are sober.   Jake has to go after a murderer who, according to an eyewitness, is Silva's son. And Silva has to intercede for him, trying to convince Jake that his son is innocent and that he should stop searching for him. All this, the sheriff’s duty as opposed to a father’s grief, mixed with reproaches and declarations of love from two lovers who haven’t seen each other in twenty-five years and who live their lives at opposite ends of the desert. These are the ten central minutes of the film. We still didn’t know what the story would be, or if there would even be a story, but the film gives voice to these two middle-aged, queer men who traditionally have remained silent in a genre like the western. The film is attracted by the idea of breaking that silence. "Brokeback Mountain" by Ang Lee is the closest Hollywood has come to telling a story about two men who love each other and talk about it, but the lovers in Ang Lee’s film are shepherds, so we don’t include the film in the western genre. There are westerns with gay characters, like "Warlock" by Edward Dmytryk. The script abounds in data about the passionate relationship between its two protagonists, Anthony Quinn and Henry Fonda, but no one talks about it even though their relationship is one of the axes of the film. This turns Dmytryk’s film into a strange western or one with a badly written script. The film is only understood if both of them are lovers, but that word is never mentioned.   It's a western filmed in a town built in Almeria for Sergio Leone as a set for his legendary dollar trilogy, with Clint Eastwood. The passing of time, fifty years of it, has given authenticity to the place, today being dusty and old. The typical artifice of what had been a film set fifty years ago had now disappeared. The film respects the rules of the genre without falling into any anachronistic temptation, except for the song at the beginning, with the voice of Caetano Veloso and the angelical face of Manu Ríos, which gives the film its title. In Sheriff Jake’s house there are several paintings by Maynard Dixon, one of the first artists, if not the first, to paint landscapes from the American West, with native Indians and cowboys. It's a discovery, his work possesses a coloring untypical of the time that brings it close to pop and at times to impressionism. There's also a portrait of the artist Lily Langtry, very famous at the start of the century, who actually made a silent film and whom Ava Gardner plays in "The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean" along with Paul Newman. The other great artist who appears on the walls of the ranch is Georgia O’Keefe, the Mexican landscape that hangs over Silva’s bed.   The film takes inspiration not so much from the reality of the time but from cinema, how actors were dressed in westerns between 1900 and 1915. If anyone wonders about Pedro Pascal wearing a green jacket, we remember "Bend of the River" by Anthony Mann, where James Stewart wears an identical green jacket. The film is also inspired by Vera Cruz (Robert Aldrich), specifically for the outfit worn by Silva's murderous son Joe. It's inspired by Burt Lancaster, all black. And Sheriff Jake, he's in a suit, with a vest and bola tie, like almost all the sheriffs in the Westerns we've watched. Kirk Douglas is one of the models, whether playing a sheriff or a card player, "Gun Fight at the OK Corral" or in "Last Train from Gun Hill", both by John Sturges. The male wardrobe has changed very little, the sheriff is always the most elegant, usually with a suit, waistcoat, the fabric of the waistcoat is the only thing that allowed you some fantasy, with shiny damasks, shirt and around the neck a bola tie. The rest of the male characters always wear a scarf around their necks, in different colours and patterns, a checked shirt and a waistcoat. The dresses of the Mexican prostitutes are inspired by "El Dorado" (Howard Hawks). Despite the fact that in Spain we have a great tradition of spaghetti westerns, more than a hundred were filmed in the 60s and 70s.   Written by Gregory Mann

I’m very skeptical about rape-revenge films – to what extent are they empowering? Do we really need to watch long everlasting minutes of rape to realise women are strong and will take their revenge? Personally I think that rape-revenge films should only be made if they are bringing something new to the table because we should not be watching rape just for the sake of it. Sometimes it feels that the sub-genre has grown popular for all the wrong reasons and therefore it is always curious to see what a woman filmmaker can do with the sub-genre. Coralie Fargeat’s “Revenge” has its share of contributions to the sub-genre and stands alongside Abel Ferrara’s “Ms. 45”, the Soska Sister’s “American Mary”, and Paul Verhoeven’s “Elle”. However, at the same time that Coralie Fargeat’s debut film is very good and has its clear merits and its share of social commentary, it also falls into some old/unnecessary tropes. Because of its popularity the sub-genre has been the subject of many studies and probably one of the most influential is Carol Clover’s chapter about rape-revenge films on her cornerstone book Men, Women and Chain Saws. She writes that even though the lines between feminist and non-feminist films are blurred, the core of the sub-genre is to portray the transformation of the character from victim to avenger illustrating the female self-sufficiency – mentally and physically. In addition to Clover’s studies, many authors have written that the turning point for the empowerment of the female character is the rape itself – which is problematic. Do women need to be sexually assaulted to become strong? I don’t think so and many films portray it differently, Fargeat’s film, unfortunately, falls into that. Jen (Matilda Lutz) starts the film as a Lolita archetype – wearing bright colours, pink earrings, lollipop in her mouth and having an affair with an older, married man. Jen is aware that Richard (Kevin Janssens) is married and this knowledge makes her a flawed three-dimensional character, which is positive and negative at the same time. Positive because we are all human and flawed, no one is perfect; and negative because, well, it is not the most ethical thing to do. Moreover, Jen is very sexual and sensual and at one hand it is important that the character owns her own sexuality, at the other hand the amount of close-ups we have of her behind is a little bit too much. Jen is powerless and completely alone and that is what makes the rape so infuriating – the men take advantage of the fact that Jen has no way to protect herself. One of the issues raised with the sub-genre is the violence during the rape – take Meir Zarchi’s “I Spit on Your Grave” for example, the rape scene is so long and so violent, and the same can be said about Gaspar Noé’s “Irréversible” where the scene is so raw and we feel the rape as we watch it. Fargeat managed to dodge that bullet by having the camera pull back during the rape, focusing on the character’s isolation rather than the violence upon her. This is interesting not only because it shifts from what we are used to see, but also because it is off-brand for a French extremist film – which makes it even bolder that Fargeat decided shoot the film that way. Moreover, during the revenge part of the film, Jen does not into a femme castratrice role that focuses on castrating the men as the ultimate revenge, which again provides its own share of problems, but she focuses on pain itself. In addition, although Jen is almost naked, her clothes have blended in with her skin colour and the blood and dirt mixed up turning into one colour, forming almost a uniform. Richard on the other hand, is naked during the “last battle”, shifting the gaze and the fetishism to his bloodied body. Jen’s revenge is so long and violent that Fargeat equates her film to the French extremism as seen in Claire Denis’ “Trouble Every Day”, Alexandre Aja’s “Haute Tension” and Pascal Laugier’s “Martyrs”. There is no such thing as too much blood. A good rape-revenge film swims in social commentary, and “Revenge” is no different. Kooyman once explained that rape-revenge films explore multiple binaries, such as city/country, civilised/uncivilised, men/women in order to explore the relationship between good and bad. In this film, the male characters are overflowing with male entitlement and that clearly paints them as bad/evil. He also wrote that the film ‘must indulge [in] misogynistic and patriarchal impulses in order to combat them’. The film opens up with Jen and Richard arriving at a house in the desert – a paradise for a love affair and for murder – no one around for miles. Two of Richard’s friends interrupt their getaway as they arrive early for a hunting trip. It is a non-spoken understanding that everyone is aware that Richard is cheating on his wife and no one seems to care. Jen’s attitudes (dancing, drinking, using drugs and playing around) and clothing are interpreted as an open invitation and Jen’s body is seen as fair game – everyone can have a piece of it. On the morning after, Richard leaves Jen with his two friends whilst he runs some errands and Stan (Vincent Colombe) makes a pass at Jen, but when she refuses he sees it as an affront against him. Stan does not take a “no” for an answer and rapes Jen, almost as a punishment for teasing him and turning him down. Stan and Dimitri (Guillaume Bouchède) both see it as a normal thing to happen and they are not afraid of Richard’s reaction (maybe a little bit). When Jen tells Richard about it, he confronts his friend but it is almost as if nothing happened, whilst when Jen confronts Richard about it he gets violent towards her and calls her a “whore”. In this point, the film portrays rape as a common denominator for those men and it brings about a group mentality that appeals to the sense of camaraderie where rape is seen as “male sport”. In the middle of the desert, Jen is left for dead with a birch piercing through her midsection. In a non-realistic way Jen manages to take the birch out and seeks revenge on her aggressors. Penetrated twice – first by the rape and second by the birch (phallic object, anyone?) – Jen crawls from the place she was left for dead and steps into the men’s territory. They are hunters, this is their sport, and it becomes a cat and mouse game. The film oozes with social commentary by the fact that the men are portrayed as the epitome of male entitlement, especially over women’s bodies – they see Jen’s clothes and actions are an invitation, instead of it being her way to express herself, and the second she rejects them and demand respect, if not from Stan, from her lover, they turn violent against her. They see Jen as an animal to be hunted and killed, and Jen by stepping into their territory seeks revenge without needing to lure them into a place where they feel weaker or in disadvantage. “Revenge” is almost a step forward from Katie Aselton’s “Black Rock” – not taking the merits from the latter. Jen rises to the situation and embraces her fate as she goes forward without looking back – she doesn’t flinch when she needs to use a gun, she even looks confident and familiar with it. She has no time to plan her revenge, she takes whatever comes and rolls with it. It is gruesome, gory, and violent. It is French extremism at its best. Whilst in the beginning of the film the desert landscape portrayed Jen’s loneliness, by the end it portrays the endless options for her to kill her perpetrators. Unaware of the force that is Jen, the three hunters find their comeuppance.

If there’s one thing that can be said about the DCEU, it’s that their release schedule is very inconsistent. There was three years between Man of Steel (2013) and Batman v Superman (2016), then over a year between Justice League (2017) and Aquaman (2018) and within five months of that film we now have this one to tide us over another eleven months until Birds of Prey (2020). The point I’m trying to make is the DC release schedule is as inconsistent as the overall tone for this cinematic universe. I personally loved the dark and moody approach they were going for in those early days, but with this and the last couple of movies, it’s clear they want to pretty much abandon the moodiness for a lighter tone akin to what Marvel usually has and by the end of this film, it’s clear they are not looking back. Shazam is without a doubt the most self-aware and child-like of the DCEU movies so far. Not in that it’s childish, but in the awe and wonder than comes from the main characters (probably because they are children/teenagers). The real joy of this film is the reminder of why superheroes and their stories are so enticing and timeless in that it presents it a simple story of hero versus villain and the joyous wish fulfilment of it all along the way. We’ve all had conversations about what kind of superpowers we would want and what we would use them for and here, kind of like Kick-Ass (2010), we get to see wonder of a young protagonist be blessed with being a superhero. Also note that both of these movies feature Mark Strong as the primary antagonist. Shazam follows a teenager named Billy Batson (Asher Angel) as he struggles to navigate life as an orphan, constantly running away to search for his lost mother. Once he is taken by foster parents (Cooper Andrews and Marta Milans), who are probably the coolest parents ever, he finds himself living with five other foster kids and attends the same school as them. While evading some bullies he finds himself transported to another realm where a dying wizard named Shazam (Djimon Hounsou) bestows him with all his powers, which transform him into an adult version of himself (Zachery Levi). He must then learn how to use these powers to battle Thaddeus Sivana (Mark Strong) who has gained some powers of his own, including the supervillain team of the seven deadly sins. The highest points of this movie are every time we get the adult Billy, played by Levi. Much like Paul Rudd as Ant-Man, Levi is best known for comedy roles and that is quite clearly where his biggest strengths lie here as he smoothly makes that transition into this kind of universe. Of course not his first experience in a superhero landscape, see the first two Thor movies (2011 and 2013) and Heroes Reborn (2015-16). Unlike those projects however, here is a given centre stage and really able to show off his talent and play up exactly how we would feel as a kid who suddenly has all these amazing abilities. Asher Angel as teenager Billy is also good in the role, able to sell us the hurt of losing his family while simultaneously learning to love and accept his new family. Speaking of which the other five kids are all great, with Jack Dylan Grazer as Freddy being the most prominent of the bunch and has good chemistry with both young and older Billy. What I found to be the weakest aspect of the movie is though, is Mark Strong’s villain. It might just be that I’ve seen him in so many villain roles and enjoyed seeing him play against type in the Kingsman franchise (2015 -), but here it seemed a little overplayed. He’s perfectly serviceable in the part and does a few good moments and gags, but ultimately he doesn’t get much to work with. This is a common problem for a lot of superhero movie villains so it’s one of those things you expect at this point. The seven deadly sins don’t do much outside of an early boardroom scene and the climax, but their designs are cool and they serve their purpose. Again this is by the far the most funny and brightly coloured of the DCEU movies. The colours on Shazam’s suit pop and the costume has a great design. This is a simple, fun origin movie with a lot of heart and effortlessly tells an engaging and relatable story about family and self-belief. The most fun and wonder comes from Billy testing what powers he has and the delight in seeing him harness them properly or the amusement in watching him discover that no, he can’t turn invisible. Not to mention we all know we’d totally use them to get back at a bully if we were back in school. Everything flows very nicely and story progression is so well paced that you’re at the start of the climax before you know it. It’s just a bit of a misstep that said climax starts maybe 30/40 minutes before the end of the movie and as a result feels like it drags a tiny bit. Despite a minor issue like that, which could’ve been ironed out with a tighter edit, Shazam is another great movie not only for DC, but for superhero movies in general. Unlike Aquaman though, it embraces the larger universe a bit more with Batman and superman cameos but not necessarily in the way you might think. Zachary Levi nails it as a teenager in an adult’s body with the ecstatic curiosity of not only what he can do with his powers, but what an adult can do too.

(Release Info London schedule; March 21st, 2018, Cineworld Fulton Road, 20:15) "Unsane" A young woman is involuntarily committed to a mental institution where she's confronted by her greatest fear, but is it real or is it a product of her delusion?   Making a startling trip into thriller territory with "Unsane", director Steven Soderbergh plunges audiences into the suspense and drama of Sawyer Valentini (Claire Foy), a resilient woman, fights to reclaim her freedom even as she risks her own sanity. Scarred from the trauma of being stalked, quick-witted Sawyer has relocated from Boston to Pennsylvania for a new life. As her mother Angela (Amy Irving) misses her back home and her office job is hardly an ideal employment opportunity, Sawyer remains on edge following her two years of being terrorized. To consult with a therapist, she goes for follow-up treatment at 'The Highland Creek Behavioral Center'. Sawyer’s initial therapy session at the suburban complex run by clinician Ashley Brighterhouse (Aimée Mullins) progresses well, until she unwittingly signs herself in for voluntary 24-hour commitment. Unable to leave the premises, Sawyer finds herself in close quarters with previously committed hellion Violet (Juno Temple) and savvy Nate (Jay Pharoah), who's battling an opioid addiction. Sawyer expects to be out of 'Highland Creek' within hours. But once she catches sight of facility staffer George Shaw, she's terrified and then enraged, because she's convinced that Shaw’s real name is David Strine (Joshua Leonard) and that he's her stalker. But is it real or is it a product of her delusion? As none of the doctors and nurses believe she's in danger, and all question her sanity, Sawyer’s stay at 'Highland Creek' is extended indefinitely. Sawyer realizes that in order to survive she will have to battle her demons and fight her way out.   We meet Sawyer after she’s been through a traumatic experience; we’re starting our journey with her as she’s trying to restart her own life. Sawyer is a resilient person. She's strong physically, and is very clever. But she’s sort of an unfinished person, which is a weakness and a strength. Sawyer goes there trying to stabilize her life. But once a therapist uses legal authority to check her in for the one-week observational stay, Sawyer’s raging against the machine that's holding her against her will gives them enough bad behavior proof to justify their treatment of her. The character of Sawyer is very much expressive, emotive and wild. Some parts of the screenplay trod the line of being funny and hideous at the same time. "Unsane" is a cautionary tale, for all sorts of reasons. The element of mental health, and how we take care of people or don’t take care of people, in 'The Western World'. As we’ve seen in the world recently with women coming forward to tell their stories, Sawyer has to face people discounting her believability. We look at what that would do to one’s self-confidence, when no one around you believes you. The film depicts extreme acts, but also explores what it’s like to now have trust issues. The scene becomes one of the scariest in "Unsane", because it’s about how there's no going back once someone has invaded your life; Sawyer knows she's now subject to this possibility. That’s key to understanding Sawyer’s responses in the timeline of the story that follows. But, unless they’ve been through it nobody can ever understand what that does to you psychologically. That's demoralizing and terrifying. When Sawyer finds herself held at 'Highland Creek', Violet has already been confined there for a while. Violet welcomes her by trying to be the boss. Violet is a young woman who's unstable and needs care and help. She’s from West Virginia, and is white trash. She's very repressed back home and deeply wants to be loved by people. But whenever she has reached out, it has turned into her having to fight for survival; Violet has to fend for herself through violence, although she’s more of a danger to herself than to others around her. David has come to where he's when we meet him in "Unsane", a pretty dangerous place of obsessiveness, through very human experiences that he’s taken in differently than other people would. He's not a horror-movie villain. It’s all the more disturbing that there’s this bland guy and then you find out what he really is. Sawyer is coming out of a very traumatic past to start her life anew. He fixates on the notion that they should be together, that she’s the primary component which has been missing from his life. David has something missing in himself, but rather than try to fix himself from the inside out he becomes convinced that Sawyer is the solution. So her trauma follows her across state lines. While this can leave her vulnerable, by the end of the movie she's on her way to who she really is.   Ashley Brighterhouse, is climbing the corporate ladder. She runs 'Highland Creek' with an iron fist in a velvet glove, and she believes that people really do leave her institution better off than when they came in. She feels completely justified in her choices. She's driving herself forward in type-A ways that perhaps don’t consider the repercussions of some of her business strategies. Angela is a mom that everyone would like to have if they're facing this; she drops everything when she hears that her child is in peril, and will do whatever she has to do. When Angela gets that phone call, it’s almost like she can’t take in what’s being said, hearing about the oppressive situation that her daughter is in; she just jumps in a car and goes to help.  Is she or isn’t she? That's the question bedeviling the heroine of director Steven Soderbergh’s new thriller "Unsane", which will provide audiences with chilling moments. Viewers will find the experience doubly disturbing, since the movie’s contemporary setting and concerns render it, as a genre story rooted in the real world, and in something that’s possible; the chances of this happening to you're quite plausible. Having a female protagonist makes any story more dramatic; they've obstacles to overcome that men don’t always have to deal with. With a male lead, the stakes in the movie would not be as high and the level of vulnerability would be lower. In the culture that we occupy, the weight given to something a woman says is different than that given to something a man says, which plays into the central idea of "Unsane". And so Sawyer Valentini, facing her fears, clings desperately but firmly to her belief that she's sane even as she's being told otherwise. This film is placed in an interesting context of what's going on now in the health care industry. It's about a woman who's involuntarily committed into a mental institution, based on an actual account, and is locked up with her own stalker. Sawyer is a woman in a desperate situation and at critical points, she sees an opening that she can exploit. She acts the way she does not out of a moral choice but because if she does not act she will be killed. There are many shocking moments, noting that anyone seeing the movie should expect the unexpected. The story plays around frighteningly with the nature of perception, with how different the filter that we all see our lives through can be, given one’s past history and immediate circumstances.   Sawyer has a history of mental health issues, and is candid with a health care professional, which triggers activity for a system that profits in the short term from having people enter it on the terms it’s set up. The question is, does this approach benefit people who need help or does it benefit large health care companies? They make money off of what are, in a way, incarcerations. Maybe 'Highland Creek' is working for other people, but it doesn’t work for Sawyer. The key turn here comes with a boilerplate patient document that Sawyer doesn’t bother to read all of, as most of us wouldn’t, but there's a sentence in it that ultimately comes as a surprise to her, and her reaction to that guarantees she will be sucked into  a vortex. As she talks more, the hole just gets bigger and bigger.  "Unsane" is about being trapped in a situation where nobody will believe the truth, which heightens the feeling of captivity. The scenario of not being heard and not being listened to? There have been so many examples of this in the current climate, and what Sawyer goes through is one of anyone’s worst nightmares. In today’s society, people have their phones out all the time, filming everything; everyone can be a 'Peeping Tom'. Sawyer has been watched in a way that’s not at all romantic, loving, or kind. “As the story unfolds, we see how the system is failing Sawyer because she being held against her own will with someone she knows is a danger to her and to others. The powers of authority are very quick to call her crazy, and that’s also about money; it’s a bureaucracy and not a conspiracy, but it’s an abuse of power. It’s old-school genre about something modern.