★★★★ Directed by #AnnabelleAttanasio Written by #AnnabelleAttanasio Starring #CamilaMorrone #JamesBadgeDale Film Review by Christie Robb In a nuanced coming-of-age story, writer/director Annabelle Attanasio delicately maps the rocky emotional landscape of high-school student Mickey Peck (Camila Morrone). Mickey balances school and work, and endures the clumsy advances of a needy boyfriend, all while running the household and performing the emotional labor for her widowed, oxy-addicted, veteran dad (James Badge Dale). It’s mostly a thankless job. For every tender moment Mikey and her dad Hank share, there’s a real fear that any moment he’ll lob a bowl of beef-a-roni at her head (or worse). And there’s no hope of it ever getting better. As her high school graduation approaches, Mikey grapples with which path to take toward her future. Continue to parent her dad? Get pregnant and engaged like her friend Beth? Strike out for California and college with the cute British new kid? Morrone and Dale are excellent in their roles as daughter and dad. The actors are able to keep up with each other as they shift from emotional vulnerability to volatility and back again. The pair could have easily wandered into stereotype or melodrama, but between the actors’ subtle skill and Attanasio’s writing, the characters present a multifaceted realism that is riveting. There’s no unnecessary exposition and little dialogue that could be paired away. The final act has all the more impact for the understated matter-of-fact way that it is treated. An impressive film, I anticipate great things to come from Attanasio, Morrone and Dale. #ChristieRobb

★★★★ Weathering With You Directed by: #MakotoShinkai Written by: #MakotoShinkai Starring: #KotaroDaigo (voice), #NanaMori (voice), #SeiHiraizumi (voice), and #YûkiKaji (voice) Film Review by: Bruna Foletto Lucas Makoto Shinkai, the director of the Japanese sensation, Your Name, debuted his newest feature, Weathering With You, at the BFI for a packed audience, followed by an enlightening Q&A with Shinaki himself. Weathering With You follows a runaway kid, Hodaka (voiced by Kotaro Daigo) as he moves to rainy Tokyo. It has already become a reality in the film’s universe that Japan suffers with torrential rain and the climate is worsening fast – typhoons and heavy rains are now the norm. In his desperation to find a job, the 15-year-old boy accepts a live-in job writing compelling fake news. At last, Hodaka meets Hina (Nana Mori), a “sunshine girl” whose powers are so impressive she can stop the rain for a period of time. Hodaka and Hina develop intense feelings towards each other that seem to be illustrated by the potent showers that are drowning Japan. Hina, however, is put in danger when her powers are sought and demanded by others. Shinkai’s feature seems deeply personal and, yet, at the same time, it seems to be an open letter. It is obvious to make the connection between the film and climate change, especially in Japan – as Shinkai himself said during his Q&A, the people in Japan no longer wait eagerly for the seasons to change, instead, they prepare for it. He also mentioned that the reason he depicted Tokyo so beautifully, with an intensity of detail, is because he is well aware that, because of the climate, the city will change and maybe even during his lifetime it will no longer be the Tokyo he loves, therefore this urgency and accuracy when portraying the city. His criticism is not perfect, maybe even flawed, as some have argued, but Shinkai responded well to criticism saying that there will always be many ways to read a film and despite having the climate change in his conscience when making Weathering, his focus was, first and foremost, making a piece of entertainment. And with that, he succeeded. Cinema is not made by one individual alone, but rather it is a group achievement. Weathering With You is not an exception – two elements need to be acknowledged in this film. The music, which, as Shinkai himself said, helped shape the film and polish the dialogues, is ever-present – transferring, at times, the audience member to a music video. Interesting to note here, is the decision to use subtitles with the songs in order to convey the intended meaning to non-Japanese-speaking audiences. The music was done by RADWIMPS, the same group who did the music in Shikai’s previous film, Your Name, and it played an important role during the storyboarding process. Shinkai told the audiences that during the 10-month period that took him to complete the storyboarding process, he would listen to the soundtrack whilst drawing to get the complete idea of the song and what it meant for certain scenes. This care and attention to detail is clearly seen on the screen. The second point I would like to focus on is the animation itself. Hiroshi Takiguchi, the art director, was responsible for the stunning visuals we see, but he had a little help – five hundred people worked on this film to bring Shinkai’s love for Tokyo and the nuances of the rain and water to the film. Weathering With You mixes the story of a boy who is drifting out of society and a sunshine girl who is in great danger with the amazingly beautiful visuals and even better soundtrack. It resonated with audiences as they cheered and laughed out loud. Shinkai has proved once again that he is a force to be reckoned with.

★★★★ Directed by: #EdwardPalmer Written by: Edward Palmer Starring: #StuartMortimer, #SophieHopkins, #JaneMcKell Short Film Review by: Chris Olson Having delivered the charged indie thriller Hippopotamus, filmmaker Edward Palmer opts for a harrowing and equally atmospheric short film Nightingale. A story of parenthood laced with tragedy that captures the emotional bludgeoning that comes with the role, with nightmarish characterisation. Stuart Mortimer and Sophie Hopkins play the aforementioned parents who are glimpsed through numerous scenes dealing with a newborn baby. It becomes distinctly clear that this household has experienced an acute trauma that suffocates the characters within. Through an emotive snapshot of sequences the audience is able to piece together a distressing series of events that explore the bottomless depths of anguish and grief. The first noticeable aspect of Edward Palmer's #shortfilm Nightingale is the tone. The aesthetic has a relentless darkness to it that is essential in relating the couple's trauma to the viewer. This is then enhanced by the primal emotion that grips the audience when we see the visceral fallout of the narrative through physical interaction. It is an intelligent piece that knows how to set a devastating mood quickly without overburdening it with exposition. Crosscutting and structure were two key elements that Palmer wanted to toy with during Nightingale and the result is mesmerising and enthralling. Enough of the narrative is delivered without resorting to spoon feeding the viewer and many will emerge with differing notions on the nature of the events which unfold. The only conclusive element is that Palmer wants his audience to experience a sense of gut wrenching that can only be ascertained through the intensity of parental bonds. Sophie Hopkins turns in a phenomenal portrayal of the grief stricken mother and her most heartbreaking scene on a floor will linger with even the most cold hearted viewer. Stuart Mortimer is a powerhouse of intensity. Apparently fuelled by T. S. Elliott's The Wasteland, it's a performance rooted in the darkness. Throughout the short film we witness a character on the edge of a serious reaction, one that is infused with humanistic frailty and weakness. There are plenty of #filmmakers who have opted to tell stories of parenthood and the harshest aspects of it. This short film lingers for capturing the frenetic chaos which comes with the territory through the expert #filmmaking and then pervading it with a tormented central relationship, eschewing any linear structure or predictability along the way for something more emotive, dramatic, and remarkable. #ChrisOlson Watch the Short Film Trailer

★★ Directed by: #KellyNeedleman Written by: #KellyNeedleman Starring: #BrianWhiteley #ElijahPinkham #JaiaFoster #JeniferCote Film Review by: Albert Sowerby-Davies Wilderness Quest is a gripping five-minute horror/suspense thriller, but it never quite hits the mark. A message after the final credits claims that Wilderness Quest shines a light on the connection between social anxiety and bullying. It’s not so much that director Kelly Needleman fails to make this message clear – Shamus (Elijah Pinkham) literally spells out a need to overcome his anxiety in his journal and Cooper (Brian Whiteley) is more of a one-dimensional cartoon bully than a real person. The problem is that Wilderness Quest isn’t subtle enough to make you feel its message. The premise is an uncomfortable mash-up of the Hunger Games and a group therapy retreat. Eight young adults camp together in the wilderness without food, water or technology under the guidance of Jessica (Jenifer Cote) and take turns to spend three days in the calm of nature completing their personal self-help quests. It’s Shamus’s turn first. Camping out by a river, he tries to overcome his anxiety by meditating, shouting and keeping hydrated. His attempt to find calm is shaken up by Cooper’s meddling, and it soon becomes clear that he would’ve done better to stick to his meds. Alex (Jaia Foster) tries to help, but Shamus’s state of delirious anxiety and paranoia makes him a danger to himself and those around him. In the film’s best scene, Needleman builds tension through a series of close-ups of Cooper creeping up on Shamus while Shamus hides in his tent with a furrowed brow. The scene is tense and the movement well-choreographed. At the final moment, the film cuts to a dreamy shot of the sun falling beneath the horizon. As the film’s greatest success, Michael Vignola’s excellently tense and ominous music score masterfully evokes the horror/suspense genre. But it feels at odds with the rest of the piece. Visually, Wilderness Quest lacks creative tact. Needleman borrows very little from classic horror tropes. He passes up the opportunity to transform this bright, sunlit forest into a sombre one, where wolves howl and footsteps in the bushes make your imagination go wild. Each image is too clean, and the camera is too stable. The actors’ performances are watchable but lifeless at times. I’d venture to say that Jennifer Cote does a good job as casting director. Elijah Pinkham fits the mould as a pitiable long-haired loner type, Brian Whiteley is the right balance of handsome and slimy, and Jaia Foster is at ease playing the popular and kind-hearted Alex. But my impression is that the actors are suffocated by an unoriginal script that doesn’t leave them enough room to showcase their talents. The narrative arc lumbers to a predictable final destination, the dialogue feels stunted, and there’s nothing new or exciting about the way Cooper bullies Shamus. You may enjoy Wilderness Quest, but for my money it won’t capture your imagination. #AlbertSowerbyDavies

★★★★ Directed by #FreyjaKristinsdóttir Documentary Film Review by #JackBottomley Iceland and its stunning landscapes have graced many a work of cinema over the years. From Batman Begins to Rogue One: A Star Wars Story, it is a beautiful land that is full of natural wonder and which showcases the impressive sights that express what amazing feats nature can conjure. However, Iceland has a unique, somewhat unexplored, past and director/editor #FreyjaKristinsdóttir’s eye-opening feature debut Underdog not only enlightened me to an issue I never knew existed in the country, it grips you with a moving and powerful story that is an ode to the idea of man’s best friend. This documentary charts the shockingly complex journey of #HilmarEgillJónsson, a man wanting to relocate from Norway to Iceland with his family but facing an unexpected obstacle: the importation of his beloved English Bull Terrier #Rjómi. As a seemingly by the books application turns into a compelling legal battle that sees an owner and a family stand by their furry friend and in the process challenge a governing body that seems to be in business for itself. Considering Kristinsdóttir’s background as a vet and animal trainer, it is not hard to see why this story has clearly captured the heart and mind of Kristinsdóttir and her dedication in relaying the twists and turns of this riveting tale yields attention-grabbing results in this fantastic documentary feature. The case is explored, as Jónsson talks us through the frustrating and baffling decisions of Icelandic Food and Veterinary Authority MAST and what starts out as an application becomes almost a conspiracy thriller, as this authority seems to take prejudice against the young animal but with no clear explanation as to why. Kristinsdóttir’s impressive levels of research and her persistent onscreen investigation show her to be a future force to watch in documentary filmmaking, as she backs up all statements with archive evidence, professional talking heads from across the seas and even picks apart the inaccuracies in MAST’s weak and un-backed arguments and allegations. What seems like such a small issue becomes this grand case before your eyes, as the governing body (on camera) intentionally stonewalls the issue and the deeper we get into the story, the more the film’s real meat is displayed. As Kristinsdóttir remarkably shows us the shocking history of cynophobia in the Icelandic government. A history that, at points, became very fearful, fatal and nasty. A history I knew virtually nothing about. A history with dogs that has only very recently started to heal. This film really is an education as much as it is a rather moving portrayal of what it is to own, love and live with dogs. Additionally it is a testament to how certain breeds have been demonised unfairly by bad owners or even “canine racism” and how it has affected various countries legislation. This really is a thoroughly engaging watch that is only marred slightly by some inconsistent subtitle text, that occasionally sinks into some of the newspaper article images and can become hard to read. Additionally some highlighted documents are not given english translation and sometimes the subtitling is inconsistently placed. It does not ruin the film and most of the interesting information still gets through but it is worth mentioning, as it does make some moments (especially those covering Iceland’s history in regards to dog ownership) harder to consume. This minor technical issue aside I absolutely loved Underdog and am eager to see where Kristinsdóttir takes her promising passion for animals next! Because this is an impressive and illuminating debut that also has some brilliant shots (the closing one is really heartwarming) and editing throughout, as well as some well placed moments of music by #KarlÖrvarsson. Underdog is an inspiring, immaculately researched and compelling film from a talented and promising new documentarian about the persistence to fight for our four legged friends and a country that is overcoming its cynophobic history.

★★★★ Directed by #ShirleyClarke Written By #ShirleyClarke Starring #RonyClanton #CarlLee #YolandaRodríguez #ClarenceWilliamsII #GloriaFoster Film Review by Jasmine Holly Bullock The Cool World is a 1963 film directed and produced by Shirley Clarke, the story follows the adventures of 14-year-old Richard ‘Duke’ Custis. Duke is part of a Harlem youth gang, called the Royal Pythons, and we see how gang life affects this child’s life. Duke’s family suffer with worry for him and his gang is feuding with a rival gang, the Wolves. Duke also aims to become leader of the Royal Pythons as their current leader is an incompetent drug addict. However, the main focus is on Duke’s desperate aspiration to come into possession of a gun, which he believes will help him gain respect and safety via fear. The film was screened as part of the BFI’s Shirley Clarke season, held to commemorate her career as a trailblazing filmmaker, and The Cool World is testament to Clarke’s genius. The screening was introduced by Shirley Clarke’s daughter, Wendy Clarke. Wendy Clarke also worked on the film and spoke about how this production was the first of its kind. In the 60s it was fairly unusual to produce a fictional documentary-style film. The cinematography really reflects this style in its purposefully imperfect camera work, as does the fact that not a single artificial set was involved in the production; it was the first film about Harlem that was completely filmed in Harlem. Even locations like the gang’s hideout, were filmed in an apartment in Harlem. Furthermore, Wendy Clarke pointed out that majority of the children they auditioned weren’t actors but children living in the Harlem area, a lot of whom were involved in gangs. This may explain why their performances were so natural rather than grandiose, like we tend to see in some mainstream films. All the performers were brilliant, but the standout performance came from Gloria Foster who played Duke’s disenfranchised mother. Foster was in this film for less than 10 minutes altogether so the fact that she made such an impression on me says a lot about her ability as an actress. Music was present throughout quite a chunk of the film, and the score was one of my favourite things about this project. An array of gospel, rock n’ roll and jazz were wonderful accompaniments to the film; it really brought the buzz of 1960’s Harlem to life. The illusion of realness that The Cool World manages to capture is commendable, from its auditioning tactics to its inclusion of recordings taken of average people going about their business on the streets of Harlem. However, The Cool World has been accused of ‘Blaxploitation’ in that it still conforms to stereotypes and fails to show any worthy role models in the Harlem community. Some would argue that Clarke was capitalising from the unfortunate circumstances of the black community in Harlem. Ironically, this film is also considered to be one of the first in the Blaxploitation genre... so there is no denying that The Cool World was pioneering in the film industry, for varying reasons. The Cool World is included in the bestselling book: 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die by Steven Jay Schneider, which was updated in 2019. Shirley Clarke clearly created something that, to this day, is hailed for its originality and revolutionary ways. Whilst this film is over 50 years old, it still has a lot to offer in its sharing of a story about those seen as unimportant. This is a film that aimed to realistically display and comment on the racial injustice that is prevalent in society and how the loss of a child’s innocence is an unfortunate by-product of this cruel world. #JasmineHollyBullock

★★★★★ Directed by #HarryCrossman Written by #AlexTurnbull #HarryCrossman Starring #RachelLin #JoeSmith Film Review by Jasmine Holly Bullock Scuttle is a short horror film directed by Harry Crossman, written by Alex Turnbull and produced by Rhys Williamson. The story takes place in a young woman’s bedroom. As the woman gets ready to drift off into a slumber; the sinister sound of a something creeping and approaching her door begins. Scuttle is under 8 minutes long but is still able to tell a tale that is enjoyable and keeps you on your toes. Turnbull has come up with a super good concept, one that wasn’t trying to be too convoluted like some short films and some horrors can be. Furthermore, Crossman and Williamson have both done an amazing job on making the story come to life and maxing out its scare factor. Sometimes less is more, and this was definitely the case when it came to things like sound effects and cinematography in Scuttle. Regarding the sound effects, the isolated sound of loud, rapid tapping was effective. However, later in the film a louder bass sound was added, as was the sound of monstrous wailing. I think this was overkill . I think a silent monster is the more terrifying one, and the wailing sounds didn’t match the quality of the rest of the film. I understand these choices were made to suggest an increase in tension and danger but it risked doing the opposite and making the production seem a bit cheap; the tapping was all that was needed to make an impact. Shots were also better off when simplified. There was one rotating shot and that shot singularly came off as more amateurish than the rest of film. Aside from these small instances, I loved the production and its solid concept combined with solid directing and editing overshadowed any weak points. Nice visual details provided clues as to who, or what, is at the door and what they want, which shows that Crossman put a lot of attention into producing this film to the best of his ability. In terms of performance, Rachel Lin plays the only character in Scuttle that is seen and she did the film justice. It is impressive to be able to essentially perform a story on your own, even if it is a 7 minute film, so I give props to Lin. Scuttle reminded me of another short horror film called Lights Out, which was so good it received funding to be made into a feature length horror film in 2016 and featured Teresa Palmer. There are noticeable similarities with some of the shots and the settings used in both shorts... plus both films are GOOD. Just like Lights Out was seen to have, I think Scuttle has a lot of potential for further development, and if not then Harry Crossman and Alex Turnbull are certainly two creatives that have a lot of potential. #JasmineHollyBullock

★★★★★ Directed by #TimBurton Starring: #JohnnyDepp #MartinLandau #SarahJessicaParker #BillMurray Film review by Nathanial Eker The live BFI podcast Soundtracking with Tim Burton concludes with a screening (on 35mm no less) handpicked by Burton himself. Ed Wood, a film that the director acknowledges failed to achieve the mainstream success of his other pictures, remains the greatest indicator of the filmmaker’s status as a modern auteur, and is still his most personal work yet. Despite this perceived commercial failure, Ed Wood represents the artistic pinnacle of both Burton and Johnny Depp’s careers. Though as a biopic its tendency to only flirt with the truth may be somewhat problematic, its narrative and themes are so wonderfully compelling that it barely matters. Ed Wood (Depp) is a thirty-year-old quirk who loves two things; the art of film and dressing in women’s clothing. Unfortunately for him, despite a seemingly endless tank of optimism, he lacks that filmic eye for detail. However, after meeting washed up horror legend Bela Lugosi (Landau), Wood endeavours to write, direct, produce, and star in his own movies, to fulfil his destiny as a born filmmaker. What follows is a loose adaptation of the production cycles of Glen or Glenda, Bride of the Atom (later changed to Bride of the Monster), and of course, the iconic Plan 9 from Outer Space. Despite being based on real events, Ed Wood amusingly feels like the most autobiographical of Burton’s pictures. Indeed, while presenting at the BFI, he claims ‘if you want to understand who I am as a filmmaker, this is the film to watch.’ Far from the BDSM inspired costumes of Batman Returns, or the German expressionist aesthetic of The Nightmare Before Christmas, the film is grounded in a semblance of reality, albeit one heightened by pantomimic characters and loose historical accuracy. This isn’t to say it’s devoid of the indicative Burton narrative and stylistic iconography, far from it. The gorgeous black and white cinematography blended with the 1950s costumes gives it a welcome coating of film noir. The character of Wood is also classic Burton; a strange loner who dares to be different and is thus continuously punished by a society that fails to understand him. However, it’s that understanding of Burton’s interpretation of Wood that makes the film so vibrantly compelling. Regardless of how true the portrayal is to his in-real-life personality, the avatar created demonstrates the archetypical hopeful idealist; an embodiment of the American dream. The film might seem to mock Wood by admonishing his one-take mentality and questionable production antics (octopus theft and some less than kosher financial negotiations). However, there is an overarching aether of respect present throughout, if not from those around him, then by his filmic framing. Burton acknowledges the immense difficulties of getting even the worst film made, thus the enduring passion of Wood, even against great odds is what ultimately stays with us. An enormous amount of the character’s galvanising likability lies in the outstanding performance by Johnny Depp. Long before media controversies or an eternally tired portrayal of Captain Jack Sparrow, Ed Wood captures Depp at his best. His youthful energy is eminently endearing, offering the quintessential underdog protagonist that is rooted for from the minute we meet him. Equally ground-breaking is the performance of Martin Landau as Bela Lugosi, who brings a haunted air of bitterness, matched by a sympathetic hope that he’ll one day return to his former vampiric glory. To say that Landau and Depp have electric chemistry is a horrific understatement. The supporting cast is also shockingly strong. Burton makes three dimensional characters of players with only a handful of lines, who often manage to offer as much personality as Wood himself. Bill Murray as the wonderfully flamboyant Bunny Breckinridge and Vincent D’Onofrio as a frighteningly spot on Orson Welles remain highlights. Interestingly, Ed Wood lacks what one might call an essential element of the Burton formula: Danny Elfman. In his place, famed composer Howard Shore steps up and offers a different musical aesthetic; one that entirely gels with the verisimilitude of the sci-fi – horror influenced mise-en-scené. The unnerving, atomic age inspired title track perfectly braces us for a less than standard tale of creative endeavour. However, it is the reuse and repurposing of music synonymous with the players themselves that truly creates a poignant musical landscape. The theme of Glen or Glenda becomes a leitmotif for the romance between Ed and Cathy, ironically working far more effectively in this capacity. However, the most unapologetically nostalgic movement is reborn as a leitmotif for Lugosi, as Shore reworks elements of Swan Lake (the title music of Dracula), to craft a hauntingly melancholic theme that encapsulates Lugosi’s tragic descent into addiction, while simultaneously paying tribute to his most iconic role. Ed Wood remains a captivating experience that has me falling deeper in love with it upon every viewing. The perfect cast, the moody aesthetic, the inspiring themes, and the gorgeously intuitive soundtrack culminate in a beautiful encapsulation of the struggling American filmmaker. While many will admonish the embellished elements of the film’s plot, what Burton transforms Wood into, however true or untrue, becomes an exemplar inspiration for all would-be filmmakers, or indeed anyone pursuing a dream; ‘visions are worth fighting for.’ #NathanialEker

★★★★ Film review by Nathanial Eker ‘There are few who deny, at what I do I am the best, for my talents are renowned far and wide’, so goes the lament of Jack Skellington. Indeed, there are few who’d dare propose a mainstream filmmaker with greater stylistic flare than the auteur of darkness himself, Tim Burton. The promise of a live BFI podcast starring Burton, as he analyses the musical motifs of his work, followed by a secret film screening chosen by the man himself, is immediately exciting. Still as widely eccentric as the eerie characters he crafts, Burton speaks with an awkward passion for his art. He regularly looks uncomfortable, and unlike his Hollywood contemporaries, cringes at most compliments, looking anywhere but into the eyes of his interviewer. For the majority of his film clips, he ignores the screen and stares at his mostly unused microphone. It’s clear that his self-confessed weirdness is no façade; the quiet young Disney animator from the 80s that he describes remains present in the room with us, albeit now donning the title of one of the world’s most famous film directors. Speaking almost exclusively with his hands and dressed in clothes as dark as his protagonists’ (complete with striped Beetlejuice socks), he’s everything you’d imagine him to be. The selection of film clips shown comprise of mostly beloved classics, inevitably offering the crowd of Burtonites at least one personal favourite. Beetlejuice, Edward Scissorhands, The Nightmare Before Christmas, Batman Returns, Big Fish, and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory provide an excellent musical variety (say what you like about Charlie as a film, the Oompa Loompa songs are total bops). That said, while the clips offer interesting personal insight, such as an uncharacteristic use of commercial music in Beetlejuice, some, like the clip from Edward Scissorhands feel like a poor choice. To hear the director break down a scene is undeniably fascinating, yet as a music-centric podcast, groundbreaking iconic moments like the ice sculpture scene could offer meatier discussion. Inevitably, the podcast becomes as much an analysis of long-time musical collaborator Danny Elfman’s career as it does Burton’s. To hear the humble origins of their partnership, as well as the sweet acknowledgement of Elfman as Burton’s ‘kindred spirit’ is as interesting as it is charming. However, it is thus all the more disappointing that films with rare moments of expansive partnerships out of the Elf-sphere are ignored. Burton’s work with Mike Higham and Matthew Margeson on Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, as well as the legendary Howard Shore on Ed Wood remain sadly sidelined. Though the work of Elfman undeniably belongs as the podcast’s centrepiece, acknowledging Burton’s noteworthy work with other composers and probing the creative decisions behind those choices could’ve offered an even broader analysis. Criticism aside, listening to Burton’s unique observations on the nuance of a scene remains a treat. Equally, his personal thoughts on casting decisions and certain influences on his method provide an unusually in-depth look into his directorial development. Perhaps most profoundly, his view that ‘every film [he] works on must contain something that means something to [him]’ shines a light of self-reflection onto his morbid body of work. In particular, the autobiographical role of the Burton loner archetype; Edward, Willy Wonka, The Penguin, that have provided the basis for film student’s auteur assignments for decades, remains a paradoxically shining example of personal filmmaking in Hollywood. Even more powerfully, however, Burton comments on the emotionally crippling impact of personal tragedy, such as the death of his father inspiring the production of Big Fish. Most crucial though are his musings on soundtrack to the verisimilitude of a film; ‘I treat the music of a film like a main character in itself.’ The ultimate clip, This is Halloween of The Nightmare Before Christmas, exemplifies the truth of his statement with its infectious melody and playful rhymes that’d likely make Dr. Seuss blush. Throughout Burton’s nearly forty-year long career and countless collaborations with Elfman, the two have crafted music that has indeed taken on a life of its own. Seldom does an artist craft such uniquely personal orchestrations that they become an essential element of the director’s unmistakable mise-en-scené. Burton might be infamous for his creepy characters and German-expressionist influenced aesthetic, but it’s the leitmotifs of Elfman; the innocence of Edward, the broody heroism of Batman, the sass of Oogie Boogie, that truly gives his undead portfolio a breath of life. As for the secret screening, for Burton to self-summarise his work as a filmmaker in one picture, there’s arguably no better choice than Ed Wood. Regrettably, it remains one of those few films that doesn’t feature Elfman as composer, but as it undeniably remains the director’s magnum opus, it’s forgivable. Presenting it on 35mm film stock certainly helped to make the screening that bit more special. See my review here. #NathanialEker

★★★ Directed by: #PhilipBrocklehurst Written by: #PhilipBrocklehurst Starring: #PMThomas Film Review by: Darren Tilby Philip Brocklehurst’s short film, Feel, works best when viewed as a piece of expressionist art: an exploration of one man’s (in)ability to ‘feel’ through either pleasure or pain. And while there are a few problems here which prevent the film from ever reaching its full potential, this is a terrific effort and an interesting concept. “I want to feel” comes the utterance from P.M. Thomas’ The Unfeeling Man, who makes up the entirety of the cast. Laying naked on his bed – bathed in a blue hue – The Unfeeling Man, emotionless and desperate to feel something, attempts to...pleasure himself. However, when that fails, he resorts to more extreme measures, for when pleasure doesn’t work, perhaps pain will? Shot using an old mini-DV camera, Feel has a grainy look and home-video feel to it. This is both a strength and a weakness. The thought behind this decision was to give the film a “raw look”, and while I do feel it achieves that, the consequence is a film where colours are muted and dull when they should be vibrant, and where detail is lost due to the darkness of the film and lower quality of the camera. Having said that, Feel does benefit from having a unique look and colour is used really well. The blue hue during the first half of the two-minute-long film reeks of desperation; while the blood-red in the second half seems to represent pain. Overall, Brad Fletcher’s camerawork and cinematography, while simple, is sufficient enough for what the film demands, and come across as nightmarish and otherworldly. As is Thomas’ dead-eyed performance and it’s hard to not sympathise with him on some level. But it’s Stephan Ortlepp’s horror-inflected score that takes centre stage here. Dread-inducing and nerve-shredding, Ortlepp’s work employs dramatic, elongated horn-like booming as the base, then intersperses it with the grating and stabbing sound of steel; a precursor of what’s to come? Feel is the sort of film that works so well as a short. Brocklehurst is a director who’s unafraid to take risks with his filmmaking (the knife in the movie being real is a testament to that), and he’s capable of getting the most out of the genre. Still, I do think this is a bit of hit and a miss. While individual elements are generally good, certain things just don’t work as well as they should. The editing, for example, is a little off and the darkness of the film, while moody, does cause an issue. The surreal and nightmarish atmosphere is spot-on, though, and there’s a surprising amount of emotion to be found here. It may be a hit and a miss, but this is an inspired attempt by a bold filmmaker to tell a story in a way most others wouldn’t dare—and Brocklehurst deserves credit for that.

★★★★ Directed by: #LucyVico Written by: #LucyVico Starring: #LucyVico #ScottAlin Short Film Review by: #ChrisBuick Silent Ways is the writing and directorial debut from Mexican filmmaker and actress Lucy Vico, which begins with us seeing the final embers of the love between Georgie (Vico) and Frank (Alin) dying out. From there, we are taken back through their time together to the very beginning, watching an unravelled relationship reset itself to the point of origin, as well as hearing from both all the things they have left unsaid, in the end being left to wonder how things could have turned out differently had they been honest to one another. We all know communication is hugely important in any relationship, and the film does a great job to emphasise the damage its absence can be, making the concept here both entirely relatable and universal. We gain insight into both Georgie’s and Frank’s own personal insecurities, how their past pain is still hindering them going forward, and ultimately how this is seeping into this relationship as well. As the film continues backwards, the overlying thoughts of the characters offer an effective juxtaposition to what is playing out on the screen, by the end offering a sad glimpse at the love they once had that is now lost due to their inability to express their feelings towards one another. While admittedly it is not hugely important to make the piece effective, there are hints and nods and to a specific dispute taking place within the film and its exact nature is unclear, leaving us perhaps to wonder if there was another catalyst for the breakdown between these two. Also, while the visuals for the most part are on point and help the piece along, some of the accompanying monologues become slightly generic and monotonous and create kind of a confusing barrage of broad strokes. But the acting quality cannot be denied here, with convincing turns from both Vico and Alin (Vico herself winning Best Actress at the Monaco Charity Film Festival), and the two really manage to draw you into to the point that you find yourself saddened by the end where after seeing what they had, you know that inevitably their relationship has an expiration date. Finally, there is the simple yet well-placed score which ties it all together and further invokes that sense of melancholy that really helps the piece hit home. All in all, Silent Ways is a brilliantly touching short with a strong core concept delivered in an elegantly simple way. Having already shortlisted on several award circuits, Vico certainly seems like a filmmaker with vision whose future projects should be ones to look out for. #ChrisBuick

★★★ Director: #EdwardNorton Starring: #EdwardNorton, #BruceWillis, #GuguMbatharaw, #AlecBaldwin and #WillemDafoe Motherless Brooklyn has an undeniably sleek look; with a formidable cast and a narrative based on Jonathan Lethem's 1999 novel, it sets down in the more evocative setting of 1950s New York. Edward Norton does everything but sweep the floor as writer, director, producer and star of this homage to film noir and cinematic introspection. Lionel Essrog (Edward Norton) is a private detective with Tourette's syndrome. His affliction doesn't inhibit a bright mind and is star performer at the detective agency headed by Frank Minna (Bruce Willis). Minna raised Lionel from the age of twelve yet remains secretive about some clients. Lionel listens on the telephone during a business meeting; Minna is subsequently shot and killed with his own gun. Lionel resolves to hunt down his friend's killer; a forensic brain is used to replay and analyse conversations as he gradually pieces the evidence together. A predictable storyline leads into a familiar tale of corruption and various palms being greased for a multitude of reasons. Alec Baldwin as slimy parks commissioner Moses Randolph turns in a workmanlike performance as does Willem Dafoe in the role of scheming opportunist. But it’s inevitably Edward Norton who takes the plaudits as the tortured but gifted Lionel. It does however beg the question: would the story have worked better in a contemporary setting as the original book demanded? Ultimately, the film falls into the gap between promise and delivery. A potentially gripping story is undone by a stilted script reducing the film to an almost pedestrian pace. Lionel's condition drops into the margins of the story; which is surprising as it relocates to the 1950s when Tourette’s was barely understood. Yet reactions of the characters are almost cursory. The mannerisms are toned down for obvious reasons but does the story a disservice as a major character trait seems to be buried. However slow it might seem the narrative still finds a natural level of engagement with the audience. But it is heavy going at times, relying heavily on the cast to carry it through numerous rough patches. Stylistically, the film is beautifully constructed, but owes its existence to film noir and offers nothing more than a loving tribute to the genre.