★★★★★ Director: #QuentinTarantino Starring: #LeonardoDiCaprio, #BradPitt, #MargotRobbie and #AlPacino Film Review by: #BrianPenn A bold preamble flashes up on screen announcing Quentin Tarantino's ninth film. It's a stark reminder that Mr T is competing with his own legacy. Can anything truly match the sheer brilliance of Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction? First cuts are often the deepest, but Once Upon a Time in Hollywood comfortably reaches the bar set so unreasonably high. His customary attention to detail is forensic as 35mm film is used to frame a story set in 1969; exactly what have been in use at the time. Fictional characters are cleverly set against true events as they mingle with real people in a concurrent storyline. Rick Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio) is a jobbing TV actor who fears the big movie roles have passed him by. He is consoled by Bounty Law; a long running Western where he plays the grizzled bad guy. Faithful wingman Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt) is Rick's stunt double, best friend and confidante. Back in Beverley Hills Rick has new neighbours. Impossibly beautiful actress Sharon Tate (Margot Robbie) has moved in with husband Roman Polanski. Rick is excited by the prospect and could be one pool party away from starring in a Polanski movie. If only he could actually meet them. Meanwhile, producer Harvey Schwarz (Al Pacino) is convinced he can reignite Rick's career with a spaghetti western. It's a glorious fusion of genres; part western, buddy movie and homage to popular culture in the 1960s. Stylish and visually stunning, it bears the classic hallmarks of a Tarantino film. Maddening tangents, delightful cameos and set pieces all provide a compulsive mixture. Flashbacks are contained within the characters' psyche; they might be integral to the story or simply a diversion, providing light relief from the film's central theme. A liberal sprinkling of gallows humour keeps the script ticking over and a soundtrack sparkles with originality featuring some hidden gems, especially Neil Diamond’s Brother Love’s Travelling Salvation Show and Vanilla Fudge’s cover of You Keep Me Hangin’ on. Sharon Tate is synonymous with Charles Manson and Tarantino weaves an irresistible plot around a wealth of possibilities. Cliff makes a vital connection when the seductive Pussycat leads him to a hippy commune of Manson followers. The finale is chaotic and dazzling in equal measure; you will be picking your jaw up from the floor. This is a superior film and sits comfortably in the top three Tarantino films. It would just be plain wrong to give it anything less than the full monty. Watch the movie trailer for Once Upon a Time in Hollywood below.

★★★ Directed by: #DanGitsham Starring: #AnthonyHead, #LisaBackwell Short Film Review by: #RyanMarsh After his wife is murdered, a father (Anthony Head) hunts after his daughter, Ella (Lisa Backwell). The reaction to short film Ella could be met with some confusion. Even though there are benefits to show-don’t-tell and retaining mystery, exposition is needed. Head is guiltily forced on a mission and, although lacking a convincing scream, delivers a serious performance. His co-star, Backwell, wears a creepy hollowed-out dog’s head along with a red cloak which calls to mind Don’t Look Now and Little Red Riding Hood. Both actors should be more emotional considering father and daughter are planning to kill each other, but they are convincing performances nonetheless. Director Dan Gitsham simultaneously delivers instructions to the actors and cinematographer Christopher D. Jones. He also seems able to solve logistical problems, like setting a shed on fire, without actually showing it. He plays to Head’s strengths by casting him as the father. His and James Driver’s script builds suspense and embodies the hunter becoming the hunted. The dialogue works to the point where one word conveys character development. The rest is Head shouting “ELLA!” which might sound a bit Suicide Squad, but is contextually natural and memorable. Conversely, some might find it unintentionally hilarious when Head says “Everything’s going to be alright” before firing a shotgun. What is serious is Jones’s desaturated cinematography containing dark shadows making the blood stand out. The depth of field keeps the red figure of Ella out of focus amongst the forest greenery. Other techniques include the camera zooming in on some drawings to elaborate their importance and closeups emphasising hesitation along with claustrophobia. The scene where the camera pulls in on the father and the background falls away homages Jaws whilst suggesting approaching terror. Conversely, the flashbacks are visually different with golden light and slow movement similar to Gladiator. The image that stays in the mind though is Head despairingly and intensely looking down the camera. James Taggart’s editing aids the cinematography throughout. Specifically, the opening has a slow zoom on the house, a quick red flash and then the title. The jump cuts continue when the father washes the blood off his hands evoking desperation and guilt. Later in the forest, these techniques build tension. When Ella attacks, there is a cut to when she started to snap. When someone is shot, the body is off camera as the suggestion is more effective. Dave Colebrook’s haunting score consists of deep, echoing sounds with increasingly loud gongs whilst breathing and scratching noises connotes a chasing beast. There is also a just audible singing and faint ringing. Just as cold are the locations with the predominant setting being the woods. This is presumably difficult to work with considering the obstructing branches, but a classic horror setting famously used by The Blair Witch Project because the monster could be anywhere. The monster in this case being both Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf who is this time disguised as a daughter. The film touches on themes of man’s relationship to beast, people devolving into animals, a person’s obsession with fiction and a young mind’s malleability. Other concepts include cynicism surrounding a ‘perfect’ family and the consequences of a person’s actions. Ella features great acting and very good production, but is almost too edgy because of its harming of a dog and child. Admittedly, its subversive approach to Red Riding Hood is intriguing, although with little explanation. It will find an audience, but there is difficulty imagining it being someone’s favourite film.

★★★★ Directed by: #JulienCornwall Written by: Julien Cornwall Starring: #JamesCorrigan, #ChristopherAdams, #ChrisKaye, #PaulDewdney, #FlorenceRoberts Short Film Review by: #ChrisOlson The Ritual meets Weekend At Bernie's in this short comedy The Lost Scot from filmmaker Julien Cornwall. Starring James Corrigan, Christopher Adams, and Chris Kaye as three friends on a clay shooting trip in the Scottish moorlands that goes comically hazardous. What do you get when a cynic (Corrigan), a drunkard (Kaye) and an accountant (Adams) get given free reign of a fully working shotgun? A gun wound to the chest for the poor gamekeeper (Paul Dewdney). As a punchline to a joke in a film review not great but as a plot to a fiercely funny short film it works excellently. As the three mates (who seem to bicker more than banter) traipse back to civilisation with the body of the gamekeeper in tow, plenty more errors in judgement occur and the fabric of their friendship hangs by a thread. Terrifically timed and sharply edited to keep the jokes packing a full punch, The Lost Scot is a rare gem - a flawlessly funny film. Every aspect of the #filmmaking is heightened to ensure the tone stays consistently comedic and to a high standard. At no point does this feel like amateur hour, in fact audiences could be forgiven for thinking they were watching a short film from a seasoned director (this is Cornwall's second outing in the chair). Each of the five performances is brilliant. Corrigan's misanthropy is spectacular, Kaye's encumbrance is droll, Adams' peacekeeping is enjoyable, Dewdney's teaching is brusquely likeable, and Florence Roberts as the wife of the Gamekeeper is terrifically subtle. Together this is a powerhouse cast and could easily stand up to a feature length challenge. As a comedy, The Lost Scot ticks all the boxes, yet still more could have been done with the depth of the piece. Like most movies of this genre, where disaster and guffaws collide, preference is given to the high notes rather than the low. Whilst many of the characters bemoan their situation, no actual contemplation of its severity occurs and consequently avoids taking the piece to another level. Which is understandable in a short format where time constraints dictate a lot of what transpires in the story. Funny, foul-mouthed, and full of tragic hijinx, The Lost Scot is a marvellous short comedy film that worthily contributes to the lads on tour goes wrong genre. Its aim is far better than that of its characters when it comes to tickling the ribs and Julien Cornwall marks himself as a formidable filmmaker in the making. Watch the short film trailer below.

★★★ Director: #GurinderChadha Starring: #ViveikKalra, #KulvinderGhir, #AaronPhagura, #NellWilliams, #MeeraGanatra and #DeanCharlesChapman Film Review by: #BrianPenn The 1980s is a time and place that divides opinion. It was the era of synthetic pop, big hair and turbo charged shoulder pads. Thatcherism had turned on the many in favour of the few; a society based on greed and self-interest. Three million unemployed and declining industries were all symptoms of free enterprise. But through it all, we had our music. Teenage angst was always best captured in a pop song; and we knew someone, somewhere would articulate our feelings. So Blinded By The Light will resonate with many; but like any period in our lives the brighter parts will always stand out more. Luton 1987: the very essence of commuter belt mediocrity. Javed (Viveik Kalra) is a 16 year old Asian boy smothered by a traditional Moslem upbringing. He longs to be a writer but father Malik (Kulvinder Ghir) is insistent he study economics and qualify as an accountant. However, Javed secretly enrols on an English course at sixth form college. He is immediately smitten by class warrior Eliza (Nell Williams) and dreams of dating her. Everything changes when Roops (Aaron Phagura) introduces Javed to Bruce Springsteen. Songs bursting with blue collar pride and attitude are a revelation. Life begins to make sense and he pursues Eliza with renewed courage. Best friend Matt (Dean Charles Chapman) is an aspiring popstar and hopes this new found confidence will produce a song lyric or two. However, a storm breaks as Malik is made redundant from his job at General Motors. Mother Noor (Meera Ganatra) toils on a sewing machine to make extra money for the family pot. Javed is now under pressure to support the family but will his dreams be dashed? Based on a true story, the narrative of Blinded By The Light hangs together reasonably well and there are some pleasing cameos from Rob Brydon, Hayley Atwell and Sally Phillips. A promising storyline benefits from a backdrop of economic strife and racial tension. But momentum is lost when the film breaks into Broadway musical mode. Characters running through Luton, punching the air as Born to run plays does the film no favours. Similarly, Javed reciting the lyrics of Springsteen is self-indulgent and vaguely ridiculous. I was obsessed with pop music in my teens but didn't quote Paul Weller songs mid-sentence. All of which undermines an otherwise enjoyable romp through the decade that style forgot. One of these days Gurinder Chadha will make a great movie; but unfortunately this isn't it. Watch the movie trailer for Blinded By The Light.

★★★★ Directed by: #EricMahoney Written by: #IanJacobs and #EricMahoney Starring: #JuanMonasterio #JohnSchmersal Film Review by: #HopeMadden It’s been an ugly few days, and while the US reels from our country’s 251st mass shooting, this one painfully close to home, it’s a good time to remember that Dayton, Ohio is an amazing town teeming with fascinating, resilient people. Eric Mahoney knows that, which explains why he returned to his hometown for this second documentary, this one on the Nineties indie punk force Brainiac. The adjective used most frequently in Mahoney’s rock doc Brainiac: Transmissions After Zero is “weird.” Fitting, really, for a film that dives into the brief and electric career of Dayton’s pride and one of the most innovative and surprisingly influential indie bands on the young scene. Haven’t heard of them? Now’s your opportunity. Don’t just take it from Mahoney. Take it from Hole’s Melissa Auf der Maur, The Mars Volta’s Cedric Bixler-Zavala, The National’s Matt Berninger, Fred Armisan and tons of others who still mourn the loss of this genuine and unique and weird presence in music. Filmed 20 years after the freak accident that took the life of the band’s songwriter and main creative force, Tim Taylor, Transmissions After Zero makes itself comfortable with those who knew him best: his mom, his sister, his band. Mahoney’s timestamp of a picture offers a refreshing break from the Behind the Music style of so many rock docs—partly because Brainiac’s trajectory ended days before signing with a major label. What results is a candid look at what happens to the rest of the band, dealing not just with grief but also with the abrupt end of their forward progress, the end of their dream. The film, in the end, is less about Tim Taylor himself and more about the band. Taylor’s presence is never far from mind, but at the same time, Mahoney and his subjects never manage to truly articulate that presence. Perhaps it’s a lack of interview footage, but the absence is felt—which partly frustrates but also fuels the doc’s overall sensibility of loss. Without Taylor, Mahoney relies on bandmates Juan Monastrio, Michelle Bodine, Tyler Trent and John Schmersal to keep things lively. Their candor, wit and weirdness compel attention and empathy. Their openness with Mahoney is touching and often very funny. Mahoney offers mainly talking head footage with brief snippets of the band onstage and some low-key but inspired animated sequences. He exhibits a little electro punk flourish himself as he pieces together the elements, but his style never upstages the content. Instead, he lets the music and the musicians tell their own story. Like a lot of rock docs, Transmissions After Zero introduces or reintroduces a group of voices that should not have been lost. And in this case, it also reminds us how great Dayton and its people really are.

★★ Directed by: #TomShadyac Written by: #DougAtchison Starring: #AldisHodge #GregKinnear Film Review by: #BrandonThomas Anyone with two working eyes knows that the criminal justice system in the United States is far from perfect and rarely yields actual justice. The situation is even bleaker for young men of color. Even after their time is served, people convicted of a crime have a hard time finding work and maintaining new relationships. As unfair as this is for everyone that goes through it, it can be especially grueling for people convicted of crimes they did not commit. Brian Banks (Aldis Hodge) was once a star high school football player. He and his mother (Sherri Shepherd) had planned for Brian to attend college and hopefully make it to the NFL. All of that changed with a chance encounter that led to an accusation of kidnapping and rape. The barriers Brian faces after his release from prison lead him to a lawyer (Greg Kinnear) who might be able to clear his name and give him back his future. Brian Banks is an interesting look at incarceration in that the film never once questions Brian’s innocence. In fact, the audience is clued in early on that Brian is a character we can trust. This film isn’t one that dwells on twists and turns. It’s more interested in Banks himself and what his plight says about our justice system. Unfortunately, that look tends to be one dimensional, and pushed through the lens of a mediocre TV movie-of-the-week. Hodge (Hidden Figures, Straight Outta Compton) brings a humanity to this role that makes it easy to cheer for Banks despite the over-abundance of cliche. He does a wonderful job showing Brian’s frustration, hurt and disappointment all at once. It’s a tightrope performance, and Hodge pulls it off beautifully. But there’s a cheapness to Brian Banks that makes it look like it would be right at home on the Lifetime cable channel. This is especially surprising since director Tom Shadyac spent the majority of his career making huge studio movies like Liar Liar, Bruce Almighty and The Nutty Professor. None of these films is exactly Lawrence of Arabia, but they still had a distinct visual flair. Despite a strong lead performance, Brian Banks can’t overcome its reliance on age-old courtroom cliche and melodrama that ends up bringing the movie down. It’s a film that had something to say, but the message became muddled and/or lost along the way.

★★★ Directed by: #AndreaBerloff Written by: Andrea Berloff Starring: #MelissaMcCarthy #TiffanyHaddish #ElisabethMoss Film Review by: #GeorgeWolf Looking for trouble? You’ll find plenty in The Kitchen. Looking for nuance? Fresh out, suckas. It’s a 70s crime drama stripped of style and subtext, yet able to squeeze considerable fun out of the exploitation vibe it revels in. Kathy (Melissa McCarthy) Claire (Elizabeth Moss) and Ruby (Tiffany Haddish) are left with dwindling options when their Irish mob husbands are sent to prison for a botched robbery. It’s 1978 in Hell’s Kitchen, and the ladies realize the meager allowance from their hubbies’ crew ain’t gonna cut it. Time for these sisters to start doing it for themselves! And if that song was from the 70s, you’d hear it loud and proud alongside all the other strategically placed picks from that groovy decade. It’s not a Scorsese soundtrack strategy, really, but rather one that makes sure we hear the lyric that can most literally comment on what we’re seeing. Call it a Berloff maneuver. The Kitchen marks the directing debut of veteran writer Andrea Berloff (Straight Outta Compton), and from the start, her tone is as unapologetic as her main characters. Their takeover of the Hells Kitchen action is too easy and their character development too broadly drawn. But just as you’re starting to wonder what this much talent (also including Margo Martindale, Domhnall Gleason, James Badge Dale and of course, Common) saw in this material, the sheer audacity of its often clumsily edited approach feels almost right. Berloff’s script makes it clear that this is less about the shots and more about who calls them, with some surprises in store by act 3 and a committed cast won over by the comic book source material or Berloff’s vision for it. Or probably both. Moss, as a meek victim pushed around too long, and Gleason, as the smitten psycho who gently schools her in dismembering a body, elevate the film with every scene they share. Haddish delivers the underestimated street smarts with McCarthy - the two time Oscar nominee whose range should no longer be in doubt - bringing an anchor of authenticity. There’s an allegory here of strong women fed up with fragile masculinity. There’s also a bloody mess of retro schlocky mob noir tropes (patent pending). I love it when a plan has some awkward missteps but still kinda sorta comes together. Watch the movie trailer for The Kitchen below.

★★★★ Directed by: #AlexHolmes Starring: #TracyEdwards #JeniMundy Film Review by: #HopeMadden “The ocean’s always trying to kill you. It doesn’t take a break.” So says Tracy Edwards, and she should know. At 24 years of age in 1989, fresh off a stint as cook on a charter boat, Edwards skippered the Maiden with the first all-female crew to enter England’s Whitbread Round the World Race. Thirty years later, documentarian Alex Holmes revisits this historic event with clarity and candor. It’s certainly no surprise that the odds were stacked against Edwards, although it is fascinating to look back at just how these sailors were treated by other yachtsmen as well as the media. According to Jen Mundy, Edwards’s girlhood friend and member of her crew, those set to sail Maiden were told: “You’re not strong enough. You’re not skilled enough. Girls don’t get on. You’ll die.” Girls don’t get on? Yes, even as the Eighties came to a close there were enough commonly believed stereotypes about women’s inabilities and bitchy tendencies to sink a yacht. And Holmes is not ready to let those spouting such idiocy off the hook. He interviews a number of journalists, each of whom admit to being convinced the Maiden has no shot at completing the race. The Guardian’s Bob Fisher went so far as to refer to the crew as “a tinful of tarts.” He actually defends that headline in the documentary. It’s impossible not to notice that the word “woman” is used maybe twice in the entire film, every participant, even Edwards herself, preferring the term “girls.” Vocabulary aside, Holmes finds an interesting arc for a sports doc. As the race begins, simply finishing the first leg was cause for patronizing celebration: a bunch of girls didn’t die. Hooray! But Edwards and crew were, like everyone else in the race in 1989, competitors invested in the competition, focused on winning and only on winning. Unlike their competition, the crew of the Maiden seemed genuinely, even wildly unaware of the profundity of simply participating. The spirit of female defiance, that’s the flag the Maiden flew at journey’s end. After proving their ability – after besting their competition repeatedly —that celebration lost its patronizing taint. Scene after windy, wet, terrifying scene—the nautical thrills crisply underscored by Rob Manning and Samuel Sim’s score—skipper and crew of the Maiden strategize, tough it out, and risk a watery grave. And why? Mainly because one malcontent—Edwards, who’d been suspended 26 times before she was finally expelled from school at 15—wanted to do it and was told she couldn’t. “What do you mean I can’t? That’s just idiotic.” Indeed.

★★★ Directed by: Britt Poulton and Dan Madison Savage Written by: #BrittPoulton and #DanMadisonSavage Starring #AliceEnglert #OliviaColeman #ThomasMann #WaltonGoggins Film Review by #GeorgeWolf When a way of life not only makes you a social outcast, but presents increasing dangers to those closest to you, what would motivate you to cling even tighter? It's a premise that could easily lead to vilification, so credit filmmakers Britt Poulton and Dan Madison Savage for taking Them That Follow in a more resonant direction. Rather than relying on lazy condescension, they want to probe the psychological politics of control. Mara (Alice Englert) is the pastor's daughter in a small community of snake handlers in the Appalachian mountains. Her father Lemuel (Walton Goggins) preaches strict adherence to the Word, which requires frequent tests of faith, subjugation of women and shunning the ways of the material world. But Mara's interest is starting to move beyond the mountain, raising the suspicions of the stern Sister Slaughter (Olivia Coleman, recent Oscar-winner for The Favourite) and sparking the curiosity of her best friend Dilly (Kaitlyn Dever). "Who you choose, girl, chooses your whole life," Sister Slaughter cautions Mara. And Mara will soon face choices that will alter several lives. Them That Follow benefits from a beautifully rustic production design and an unhurried pace, building earnest layers of authenticity that mirror a sublime ensemble cast (which includes a nice dramatic turn from comic Jim Gaffigan). Poulton and Savage are not here to mock religious beliefs, but rather to question the motives of leaders who seek control by division. Followers are belittled by proxy ("They look down on you!") while leaders make unhealthy demands and wash their hands of culpability ("It's God's law, not mine"). While the film's concerns are especially timely now, a third act that seems rushed and overly tidy loosens the grip of Them That Follow. The tail here has more bite than the head, but the serpent still deserves respect.

★★★ Directed by: #AndreOvredal Written by: #GuillermodelToro #DanHageman #KevinHageman Starring: #ZoeMargaretColletti #MichaelGarza #AustinZajur #GabrielRush Film Review by: #HopeMadden Was there a story you heard as a kid that scared you sleepless? Mine was Bloody Fingers, the tale of a mangled man who dragged his carcass toward you. You could hear him coming: thump, thump, draaaaag. My neighbor used to sneak up behind me muttering those terrifying words. Writer Alvin Schwartz knew how to work a kid’s nerves even better than my neighbor. Inspired by campfire tales and urban legends, he spun yarns for maximum kid fright, then paired them—and this is the important part—with the inspired line drawings by Stephen Gammell. The result, Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, became the go-to for kids who like to be scared and schools who like to ban books. Director André Øvredal (TrollHunter, The Autopsy of Jane Doe) and co-writer Guillermo del Toro both know something about tingling the spine. Together with a team of writers—some veterans of horror, some of family films—they’ve created an affectionate and scary ode to the old series of books. Set in Mill Town, Pennsylvania around Halloween, 1968—trees are turning, Nixon is about to be elected, Night of the Living Dead is showing at the drive in—Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark follows three wholesome high school outcasts and a handsome out-of-towner. On the run from the Vietnam-bound, letter-jacket wearing bully, they hide in the old, abandoned Bellows place. The town says the house is haunted. Sounds a little cliched, right? The kind of story you’ve heard over and over, but that’s exactly the point. To begin to tell Schwartz’s tales—all of them pulled from the collective unconscious, all of them drawing on those same old stories that were new to us as kids—Øvredal sets a familiar and appropriate stage. His framing device works well enough for a while. Stella (Zoe Margaret Colletti), who hopes to be a writer herself, swipes creepy old child killer Sarah Bellows’s book of stories, but when she gets them home, new stories write themselves in the blank pages and, one by one, the kids in Mill Town go missing. ABOVE: The movie trailer for Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. This is what PG-13 horror should look like. Yes, like most of the genre films engineered for youngsters, Scary Stories rehashes tropes familiar to adult viewers, but Øvredal's clear fondness for the terrifying source material, especially the illustrations, gives the film the primal, almost grotesque innocence of a childhood nightmare. The film’s tone is spot-on, performances solid and the set design and practical effects glorious. This is more than an anthology of shorts. It’s a cohesive whole that contains a handful of Schwartz’s nightmares, but the whole is not as great as the sum of its parts. Too heavy with clichés in the framing device, the film loses steam as it rolls into its third act. An analogy of lost innocence, nostalgic without becoming too sentimental, this is old school scary, as unapologetically unoriginal as its source material and almost as effective.

★★ Directed by: Reece Grant Written by: #ReeceGrant Starring: #JoshuaDuckrell, #RebekkahChanner Short Film Review by: #IeuanWalker For those who enter the world of crime, death is all too often the only means of escape. Especially as Britain continues in its austerity era, the tragedy has regrettably been repeated to an unprecedented extent. Yet Reece Grant’s inconsistent depiction of London’s criminal underbelly in The Hood fails to deliver its potential poignancy. The Hood opens with a chance encounter between two strangers on a West London MUGA. Tyrone is a drug dealer trying to break away from his criminal lifestyle. Crystal is the victim of an abusive relationship with her cocaine addicted partner Junior. Although the two initially share a brief glance, the pair eventually reunite to develop a relationship of their own. However, unbeknownst to either, Tyrone’s gang are the one’s supplying the narcotics to Junior. As such, it is not long before all three of their lives become intertwined with fatal consequences. There is undeniable evidence of talent amongst The Hood’s collaborators. The strongest of which lies in the immensely amicable performance by Joshua Duckrell as Tyrone. His contagious bravado and effortless naturalism in front of the camera constructs a character who defies the typical model of a criminal. Yet that’s precisely because Tyrone is not inherently felonious. The lack of opportunities available to him rendered drug dealing an essential albeit dangerous source of income that he is desperate to leave behind. The character arc throughout Grant’s comprehensively crafted script is undoubtedly tragic, but Duckrell’s absolute likeability creates genuine audience sympathy with Tyrone as opposed to mere shallow pathos. However, even as Duckrell’s performance vitalises The Hood’s screenplay, the short film is ultimately let down by the director’s erratic shifts in tone. At times, the film functions as a successfully bleak social realist drama. Grant’s recurring utilisation of long-takes, diegetic sound, and hand-held photography demonstrates a controlled faith in the reality of his scenes to express their own despondency. In such moments, The Hood offers a refreshingly objective yet humanistic insight into the harsh reality wherein criminality is a necessity for some people. Nonetheless, an over dependence on original scores and awkwardly stylized performances by Rebekkah Channer and Maximus Morgan as Crystal and Junior respectively verges the film into portentous soap opera. Even as Franco Cugusi and Laura Pickton’s music intuitively capture the mood of their sequences, their abrasive editing helps to dismantle the otherwise skillfully created verisimilitude. Grant is clearly a talented #filmmaker who demonstrates astute awareness of superlative acting and technical talent that constructs superlative social realism. Unfortunately, this is only made evident sporadically throughout The Hood. As a possible consequence of his inability to successfully balance the triple duty of director, screenwriter, and editor, his style becomes frustratingly cluttered to impede on the fluency of the narrative. Although Grant will undoubtedly develop his craft with time, the provocative potential of this effort is here diminished by an uncertainty of direction marked by an inconsistent understanding of #filmmaking technique.

★★★★★ Directed by: #SophiaDiMartino Written by: #SophiaDiMartino Starring: #SophiaDiMartino, #MarkHeap, #JaneMarney Film Review by: #DarrenTilby Sophia Di Martino’s #directorialdebut is an experience akin to a fever dream, minus the appalling illness and the possibility of projectile vomiting, of course. It’s intense and confusing, downright bizarre, and at times, frightening. A difficult film to categorise, but with inflexions of #horror and fairytale whimsy, The Lost Films of Bloody Nora is a wonderfully #macabre experiment in sensory film-making. Nora (Sophia Di Martino) has had enough of her controlling and uncaring father and decides to go for a walk down to the lake. Whilst fishing in the lake with a bottle, and catching a small frog, she spots a basket floating along. Using a long stick to bring it closer, she discovers an old camera inside. Instantly delighted, Nora turns the camera on herself and begins to record her adventures with her new ‘friend.’ A marvellously acted piece, The Lost Films of Bloody Nora is bereft of dialogue, hence requires a certain theatricality from its performers. The small cast of three – consisting of Sophia Di Martino (who also stars in the recent Danny Boyle flick, Yesterday), Mark Heap (who’s been a staple of British television for what seems forever), and Jane Marney (seemingly a newcomer?) – more than pull off the unenviable task of putting to screen a stage presence that is outrageous, yet nuanced; and without it ever feeling out-of-place. The excellent performances are complemented by Martino's excellent direction and visual storytelling. Both of which are superbly crafted and beautifully realised by #WillHanke's stunning #cinematography. And the perfect accompaniment to all of this comes in the form of #ArthurSharpe's wonderfully #carnivalesque #soundtrack. It all works so well. Everything here comes together to create the film's bizarre, slightly disturbing, almost #LeagueofGentlemen-like atmosphere. For me, The Lost Films of Bloody Nora seemed to be about loss, and more specifically, the loss of a child. Nora’s discovery of the camera floating on the lake in a wicker basket, the scenes where she is recording herself push the camera around in a pram, even the grainy home video style of the film’s recordings suggest there is a deeper metaphor here than just pure escapism. That’s not to say escapism isn’t an important aspect of the film, it is. And that’s the joy in what Martino has achieved here. The Lost Films of Bloody Nora is, on the surface, an enjoyable and strange montage of #tactile film-making; you do feel like you could reach out and touch everything on the screen. But if you dig a little deeper, there’s also much to uncover; much to infer. As far as I’m concerned, this is short film-making at It’s very best. It’s the kind of film that not only works as a short film but uses the fact to its full advantage. Beautiful in places, disturbing in others, but always #mesmerising. The Lost Films of Bloody Nora is a must-see #shortmovie and an outstanding #directorialdebut from Sophia Di Martino.