★★★ Directed by #ChrisEasterly Produced by #ChrisEasterly #ChrisBallinger Documentary Film Review by #HannahSayer Produced by both director #ChrisEasterly and the documentary’s subject Chris “HybridTheRapper” Ballinger, #MethodtotheMadness follows #HybridTheRapper’s career through music, concert footage, photos and interviews. Both Ballinger and Easterly are from Frankfort in Kentucky and they have partnered to create this insightful documentary into an unknown artist who has persevered to try and make a living out of his passion for #rapmusic. Method to the Madness opens with a taste of HybridTheRapper’s music. The film shows that to pursue a dream you have to love something enough to go for it and the structure of the narrative follows how Chris Ballinger’s obsession with rap music and hip hop developed during his early teens. From a sporadic upbringing and being a shy and not very confident child, music and rap became a passion for Ballinger. A life threatening car accident is one of the obstacles which could have prevented the rapper from his dream becoming a reality. He describes how the accident acted as a catalyst for his writing and the film follows how these moments along the way have led to where he is now. Over the years HybridTheRapper has released more than 30 albums of original music across a range of genres, including hip hop, rock, country and Southern soulful singing. The interviews with those who are close to HybridTheRapper, which are interspersed throughout the documentary, highlight his versatility as they celebrate how his original music is always new and different. The filmmaking style from the outset is up close and personal and the viewer is given a complete overview of HybridTheRapper’s life so far. It is important that the #documentary informs the viewer and it never feels as if you need to know a lot about rap music to fully grasp the subject or purpose of the film. Overall, this is a film about pursuing one’s dream against the odds. Method to the Madness plays as a promotional reel for the rapper, by showcasing his musical talent and those around him that believe in his potential. This is a very intimate portrait as the film follows both the highs and lows of this career which has never really taken off, no matter how hard HybridTheRapper has tried. It is an uplifting exploration of how someone can strive to make it and impress all those around him, yet there is something quite sad about this unrealised potential. Watch the official movie trailer for Method to the Madness below.

★★★★ Directed by: #ShericeGriffiths Starring: #JohnnyNeal, #JenniferPreston, #GaryBeadsmore Short Film Review by: #AlexSpencer A grisly murder, a prime suspect – the game is afoot! Sherlock Holmes is back, but the tables have turned: Watson is dead and Holmes’ version of events don’t seem to add up – all is not as it seems in Sherice Griffith’s original and entertaining take on the story of the great detective. The #shortfilm dives straight in with Sherlock (Johnny Neal) being questioned by Detective Lestrade (Jennifer Preston). It’s all very traditional: the quirky opening tune, plush leather chairs, an open fireplace, a deer stalker resting on a music stand and a pipe on top of a pile of books – as if straight from the pages of one of Arthur Conan Doyle’s stories with a slightly modern twist. The strong performances of Neal and Preston add to the atmosphere, with Holmes’ arrogance versus Lestrade’s no-nonsense interrogation routine working well and sucking you into the mystery. I Am Sherlock Holmes has a ring of recent Sherlock Holmes incarnations to it, but just as you start thinking that you’ve seen it all before, the scene shifts and the plot begins to thicken (don’t worry, it won’t take a degree in rocket science to follow what’s going on like in the over-complicated BBC drama with Cumberbatch and Co.). The quick cuts between scenes steadily ramp up the intrigue as the sad reality of the situation begins to unfold, it was just a shame the twist was revealed so soon – I felt that a bit more time spent on building the tension would have added more of an emotional heft at the end. That being said, the chemistry between Holmes and Watson (Gary Beadsmore) is clear, and the way Neal switches effortlessly between emotions is impressive, emphasising the internal conflict within Sean’s mind as he tries desperately to piece together what is going on. Ultimately, I Am Sherlock Holmes easily hits the mark and the underlying message about the struggles of dealing mental illness is a particularly important one. The way Griffiths seamlessly weaves an #LGBTQ slant into the story without making a big deal about it is also commendable and provides an interesting take on the relationship between Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson. Although it’s not a particularly happy ending, it’s an optimistic one, and shows us that with the right support system and treatment, people like Sean can go on to live happy and normal lives.

★★★★★ Directed by: #ZiyadSaadi Starring: #AlecHynes, #JulianMKheel, #KathyBiehl, Ziyad Saadi, #NorikoSato and #GwenevereSisco Short Film Review by: #RachelPullen Ah wuv, wuvey wuvety wuv. Isn’t being in love nice? Sure is. You can get laid a lot, have someone to go on a picnic with, shoot up banks and buy a dog with. Don’t by a dog though, mine is old now and smells like the ocean...bad times. But love can also make us do stupid things. They say that love is blind and boy howdy is that true, if you don’t believe me go and Google people you have slept with in the past...you will soon be filled with shame, and that stupidity is the driving force for a little #shortfilm from triple threat Ziyad Saadi. You can’t hear me right now but I am screaming at the screen, as it is revealed to me that Saadi not only directed and wrote this little gem of a film, but also played the leading role in the piece. Bleurgh get out, you active people make me feel bad about myself. I can barely use a microwave to cook beans and get the toaster to go off at the same time for the perfect heat to beans on toast scenario. Short film Don’t Open Me tells the story of Abdul, who is sent to pick up some packages for his boyfriend who is unable to do so [he is working on that beans on toast, heat ratio issue], he stands diligently on the side of the road while three separate characters present three separate packages to him one by one, each more sinister than the last. And if that’s not disturbing enough, the whole time, a haggard and chain smoking clown named Harpo watches him from the adjacent side of the street. Harpo looks like he has seen some shit in his time, Harpo looks like he knows how to party. I wanna hang with Harpo. The final package, though, comes with a simple instruction: “don’t open me’’, and conflicted Abdul begins to question his boyfriend’s motives for putting him in this scenario. Did he really care about him? Would he actually put him in harm’s way? Did he not love him enough? Harpo finally jumps into gear, guiding Abdul’s thoughts in regards as to open the package or not, playing the role of the devil, or angel, on the shoulder of our leading man. What will he do? I would throw it in one of those massive Biffa bins and hit up an arcade to play Donkey Kong but, you know, each to their own. Don't Open Me is beyond flawless, acting: bang on point, believable, diverse and engaging, #cinematography is attractive and well planned, showcasing Saadi’s eye for artistic flair. But the true winner is the storyline and script itself. This short engages us so quickly into a confusing storyline that does not really have many answers, and that is a skill. We are given very little in regards to understanding the reason for these packages but yet we are pulled in, developing a connection with the characters, We feel the struggle, we want to know what’s in the box. And although it’s frustrating to not really have a solid conclusion to this piece, I feel that is the charm. You see the stupid situations we put ourselves in for the ones we love, and maybe not knowing the end is there to make us feel a little more dumb, maybe to teach us a lesson not to be so blind in regards to the ones we care about. So if your lover tells you to pick up anything other than an Amazon package, maybe give it a second thought. You just don’t know if you’re gonna end up partying with Harpo because of it.

★★★★ Directed by #AdamMcKay Written by #AdamMcKay Starring #ChristianBale #AmyAdams #SteveCarell #SamRockwell Film Review by George Wolf and Hope Madden Remember when the Vice President of the United States shot some guy in the face, and then the guy with the snoot full of buckshot apologized to the V.P. for all the trouble? That really happened! When did the upper reaches of the Executive Branch go so brazenly corrupt, so treasonously, moronically, dumpster-fire-with-a-spray-tan wrong? It’s not as recent as you think. With Vice, writer/director Adam McKay remembers a time long before moronic presidential tweet storms, when the quiet, steady rise of a ruthless power broker rewrote American politics and changed the course of history. V.P. Dick Cheney was often thought of as the de facto decision-maker in George W. Bush's presidency, and McKay uses absurdist humor and a spellbinding cast to give that line of thinking a more weighty focus. Christian Bale is characteristically flawless as Cheney. With added girth from (according to Bale) "eating pies" and the trademark Burgess-Meredith -as-the-Penguin speech pattern, the physical transformation alone is astounding. But it is the way Cheney's cut throat ambition, scorched-earth power grabs and soulless devotion to ideology contrasted with his familial tenderness that Bale articulates so astutely. Because of, or perhaps in spite of, his legacy, Cheney is a fascinating figure, and Bale makes that fact endlessly resonate. But fittingly, Vice's secret weapon is Amy Adams as Cheney's wife Lynne who commands the screen as equally as Bale. In a performance full of subtle power of ferocity, Adams casts Mrs. Cheney as a pivotal and equally ambitious partner in Cheney's climb, publicly lessening his weakness as a politician and privately demanding his allegiance to their plan. Bale and Adams anchor an utterly glorious ensemble (including Sam Rockwell as "W" and Steve Carrell as a dead ringer for Donald Rumsfeld) that—with the help of McKay’s blistering script and wise direction—utilizes comedy to inform, illustrate, and act as an outlet for the otherwise soul-blackening disgust one might carry around with them concerning the American political system. In 2015, after a slew of directorial successes including Anchorman, Talladega Nights and Step Brothers, McKay redefined the term “filmmaker Adam McKay” with the blistering, cynical, hilarious, informative and angry The Big Short. In an act of all out heroism or masochism, McKay did all he could to help us understand the housing collapse with that film. He so understood his material (dry) and his audience (confused/disinterested) that he would cut away periodically to let a bubble-bath-soaking Margot Robbie explain a bit of vocabulary. It was perhaps his way of saying: This is really important, guys. Pay attention! Turns out, McKay is just as pissed off about the polluting of American politics, with his conspicuous outrage and biting comic sensibilities again proving to be powerful fuel. From the film's false ending and sudden Shakespearean detour to the unapologetic face-shooting, Vice has a definite "can you believe this shit?" air about it, a nod to the need to laugh so you won't start crying. Thanks to McKay and his tremendous cast, you might just do both.

★★ Directed by #RobertZemeckis Written by #RobertZemeckis #CarolineThompson Starring #SteveCarell #LeslieMann #JanelleMonae Film Review by #CatMcAlpine Mark Hogancamp awoke from a vicious attack with no memory of his former life. He remembers, vaguely, that five men beat him to the brink of death, that they beat him because he drunkenly mentioned he liked to wear women’s shoes, and that one of his assailants had a swastika tattoo. The rest of his life has been left for Mark to piece together. No longer able to draw as he once did (or even write his name), Mark finds a new art to work through his trauma. He models dolls after himself and women he knows. The dolls awaken in the town of Marwen every morning to fight five Nazis, again and again. The real life story was the basis for the wonderful documentary Marwecol in 2010, inspiring director/co-writer Robert Zemeckis to craft his own narrative version. Steve Carell does his level best as Mark, and connects with an impressive range. But he’s better than this film, and he’s better than this script. Also occupying the town of Marwen is a mysterious Belgian witch whose obsessive grasp on Captain Hogie (Mark) is so obviously a metaphor for his addiction that she literally disappears from scenes by morphing into the pills Mark takes each morning. And yet, half way through the film, when he’s asked what real life woman the witch is based on, Mark says in wonderment “I don’t know. I don’t know where she came from.” Someone in my theatre laughed. Welcome to Marwen’s greatest struggle is that it cannot commit to what it wants to be. Half of the film takes place with Mark’s dolls in Marwen, fully animated and pursuing comical fits of violence. The other half of the film follows Mark in real life as a lovable weirdo whose addiction to his medication and rampant PTSD don’t allow him to live far beyond the model village built in his yard. The dissonance in the film comes from a holding back of sorts. It never gets quite as weird or fantastical as it could. The real world plot of Mark’s life is boring and predictable. The whole film feels like a concession between Zemeckis’s vision, and what he thought the audience might want to see. Instead, he ends up with something from an alternate universe Hallmark channel. Worst of all, is the film’s bizarre commoditization of women. Mark fashions dolls from the hobby shop into sexier, more violent versions of women he knows in real life. None of these women seem upset or worried about their doll counterparts, disturbing though they are. Especially when one of the dolls is molded after his favorite porn star. The film leads by making a joke of calling the women “dolls”, and then uses this joke to consistently refer to them as such moving forward. Twice Welcome to Marwen milks a joke out of a doll’s shirt being ripped open to expose her chest. Mark says he wears women’s shoes because he loves women so much, it helps him connect with their essence. His G. I. Alter Ego, Captain Hogie, screams in a triumphant moment, “Women are the saviors of the world!” So. Mark can be celebrated for being brave enough to wear women’s shoes, but women’s clothing reduces them to sexualized objects. Mark’s life seems to be defined by his failure to find a woman to love. His entire fantasy world is based on the idea that women can and will save him. The idea of women is celebrated, but women themselves are only treated as vehicles for romance or items waiting to be idealized. And there’s more. But a review should only be so long and disappointed. Women aren’t here to fix you, or to save you. And they certainly couldn’t save Welcome to Marwen.

★★★★★ Directed by: #NicholasGoulden Written by: Nicholas Goulden and #AngelaGodfrey Starring: #JamesCosmo, #JohnHeffernan, #RubyRoyle Short Film Review by: #ChrisOlson With a devastatingly moving story, high production values, and a glorious message of compassion, Nicholas Goulden's #shortfilm Forget Me Not is a moving and somewhat magical journey of connection in the modern age. Set under a flyover in London, we see a homeless man (James Cosmo) experiencing the tragically familiar invisibility that so many vulnerable people do on urban streets. The only breaks in his bleak solitude come from a friendly man (John Heffernan) who buys him a hot drink most days, and a girl (Ruby Royle) who pesters him with her teddy bear. The lives of these characters and the compassion that binds them is about to culminate in a magical display of tender humanity. Keeping the events localised within the fairly grim and unrelentingly busy London flyover was a beautiful way to tell this story. The audience never loses connection with each character which makes the emotional impact of what follows far more potent. The movie is emboldened by a simply divine score by composer Matthew Slater that jangles the viewer's core like a cup full of loose change. The editing from Marco Ruffatti keeps the short film measured and grounded. Slow, sumptuous pacing provides a consuming effect for the audience who suspect, and immerse themselves within, a foreboding tale. There was the potential risk of steamrolling into the crux of the story which would have robbed the characters of much needed development and left the piece feeling like a Christmas charity appeal. Instead, the themes and poignancy are delicately balanced with well crafted storytelling and strong performances. Cosmo provides the movie's strongest scenes. A thundering and savage outburst in one sequence is enough to strong-arm even the hardiest of audience members into the story. By film's end few viewers will not have warmed to this social outcast. Heffernan is also captivating. His turn as the busy but caring professional goes much deeper as the plot develops and his performance is all the more impressive retrospectively. Where Forget Me Not is particularly unrivalled is it's tone. Goulden captures something hopeful and optimistic where most filmmakers would have assembled their weapons of bleakness even if it was done unknowingly so. The short is peppered with delightful moments that subtly charm and disarm, such as Cosmo biting into the head of a santa cookie or a small boy dressed as an elf. These tiny but glaring moments shine amidst a landscape that could be presumed as hostile or at the very least dreary and turn the atmosphere into something life affirming. By tying in so many threads around life, death, compassion, love, humanity and finding peace, an affecting and unbreakable tapestry is created that will envelop those who are willing to hear the message. Watch the official Movie Trailer below. For info on where to watch visit: www.forgetmenotshortfilm.com

★ Directed by #PeterSegal Written by #JustinZackham #ElaineGoldsmithThomas Starring #JenniferLopez #VanessaHudgens #LeahRemini Film Review by #BrandonThomas 1998 was a good year to be a fan of Jennifer Lopez. She had just come off of a great turn as Selena Quintanilla in Selena, and her performance as Karen Sisco in Out of Sight made even more people stand up and take notice. Unfortunately, in the following years, movies like The Wedding Planner, Maid in Manhattan and Gigli showed that the promise of 1998 was an outlier. Second Act continues that storied tradition of mediocrity. On the surface, life looks pretty good for Maya (Lopez). She has a job she excels at and enjoys; has a great partner (Milo Ventimiglia); and is surrounded by supportive family and friends. After she's passed over for a promotion due to her lack of a college education, Maya’s confidence in her life choices start to crumble. When her genius nephew spruces up her resume with a few white lies, Maya lands an opportunity that allows her to use her natural skills, but also forces her to pretend to be someone she’s not. Second Act is a confusing mix of several different kinds of comedies. There’s the romance straight out of the romantic comedy, pratfalls and potty humor from the Apatow camp, and a gee-whiz camaraderie angle that left me wondering if magic pants were about to come into play. None of these approaches works. Lopez is completely out of her element with the physical comedy. She sells tripping over a barrier about as convincingly as Denise Richards did playing a nuclear physicist in The World Is Not Enough. Not helping is her complete lack of comedic chemistry with co-stars Leah Remini, Treat Williams and Dave Foley. When the top comedic performance of the movie is delivered by Charlyne Yi... there’s a problem. The film’s entire structure is supported by the worst kind of cliches: Maya’s lie and the hoops she has to jump through to keep the lie alive; the workplace competition that was tired in 2013 when The Internship did it; and a lazy second act reveal so bad it’d feel out of place in a Hallmark Christmas movie. Second Act is a Frankenstein’s monster of plot points from already terrible movies. This is a movie that your mom who sees one movie a year will probably love. For the rest of us, it’s the worst movie of 2002 that somehow got released in 2018.

★★★★★ Directed by #PawelPawlikowski Written by #PawelPawlikowski Starring #JoannaKulig #TomaszKot Film Review by #HopeMadden Set against shifting political and musical environments and spanning at least four countries and 15 years, Pawel Pawlikowski’s Cold War is a gorgeous and mournful ode to star-crossed lovers that feels equally sweeping and intimate. Zula (Joanna Kulig) and Wiktor (Tomasz Kot) share names and characteristics with Pawlikowski’s own parents, though their story certainly differs a bit. As the film begins in post-war Poland, Wiktor is recording the songs of the people—folk songs handed down by peasants, which will become part of a new arts program aimed at celebrating Poland’s authentic voice. Until, that is, the program is co-opted and the songs become tributes to Stalin and agricultural reform. Zula is unphased. A pragmatist, a survivor and a bit of a con artist, she wiled her way into the company by enchanting Wiktor with a song she’d learned from a Russian movie—not exactly a peasant’s lament. As the film follows this very different and yet somehow connected pair, Pawlikowski casts a spell—with an assist from Lukasz Zal, whose black and white cinematography here is as glorious as it was in his Oscar-nominated 2013 collaboration with the filmmaker, Ida. Together they capture an evolving tone and changing rhythm as folk ballads become jazz tunes, as Poland becomes East Germany and then Paris. In everything, Pawlikowski holds those melancholy, wistful notes just an extra beat. It’s a melody Kulig and Kot dance to beautifully. Kulig impresses most as the ingénue who is master of her own future. Her performance is unpredictable and unapologetic, emphasizing the will of a character who does what she feels she must do, although that is rarely what anybody else expects. Kot’s gentle, smitten but equally tortured character offers a fascinating, sometimes frustrating counterpart. It makes sense that these two creatures are based at least somewhat on living people. It would have been far too easy for them to fall into stereotypes, but instead they are as authentically confounding and beautiful as any committed and self-destructive couple. Pawlikowski uses music to inform a shifting relationship; he uses a relationship to illustrate changing global politics; he leans on an impossible political situation to articulate insurmountable challenges within a relationship. The result is poetry.

★★★★ Directed by #PeterHedges Written by #PeterHedges Starring #JuliaRoberts #LucasHedges Film Review by #HopeMadden Family can be a nightmare during the holidays, eh? Well, if you think your Fox-News-spouting uncle is a problem, you need to meet Ben. Yes, Ben is Back, the damaged teen at Christmas drama from writer/director Peter Hedges, is clear Oscar bait. It is, after all, a family drama starring two of the Academy’s favorite thespians, Julia Roberts and the filmmaker’s own son, Lucas Hedges. Lucas Hedges plays Ben, the eldest son of Holly (Roberts), who surprises his family—mom, sister Ivy (Kathryn Newton), half siblings Lacey and Liam (Mia Fowler and Jakari Fraser, respectively) and stepdad Neal (Courtney B. Vance)—on Christmas Eve. Ben’s been away in rehab, and not everyone is as thrilled at the prospect of reliving Christmas Horrors Past as Holly seems to be. Though filmmaker Hedges’s script has a few rough edges, one of its great strengths is its limits. Ben is Back chooses not to spell out every aspect of Ben’s addiction, his descent, his likely court-determined recover program. These are wise omissions as they make the slow reveals more powerful and leave you feeling less manipulated. What unspools as a tense family drama takes a wild left turn by act three, when Ben’s shaky present and dark past come crashing into Holly’s living room only to make off with the family’s beloved mutt. The balance of the film sees mother and son drive deeper into an ugly abyss of sexual predators, junkies and criminals to have poor Ponce back for the siblings by Christmas morn. Once the borderline thriller storyline takes flight, Hedges Senior flails a bit with pacing and tone. Hedges Junior and Roberts, however, lose nothing. The voyage into the underbelly of Holly’s lovely suburbia offers not only some insight into the realities of drug addiction and our current opioid crisis, but allows these two talents the chance to mine their characters’ psyches. Hedges never overstates the emotions roiling barely beneath the surface. He is almost simultaneously overjoyed, anxious, guilty, dishonest, tender, vulnerable, loyal, broken and resilient. There is nothing showy in his performance as he conveys with clarity the confusing mix of emotions and motives that surface from moment to moment. Roberts, who has solidified her status as formidable character actor in own second act, takes command of this film and never gives an inch. She owns every scene, and equals Hedges in her own ability to swing—sometimes gently, sometimes seismically—from one emotion to the next. Again, there is nothing inauthentic or overly dramatic in this performance. The film itself dips too often into maudlin traps. And though the third act is far from awful, the filmmaker’s insights for family dynamics and dysfunction are stronger. He can cast the shit out of a movie, though.

★★★★ Directed by #RobMarshall Written by #DavidMagee Starring #EmilyBlunt #LinManuelMiranda #BenWishaw Film Review by #ChristieRobb Recreating the magic of a classic film like Mary Poppins seems like it should be impossible. Thankfully, with the sequel Disney proves that truly everything is possible, even the impossible. Set 20 years after the original, Jane and Michael Banks are grown and eking out a living during the “Great Slump” (the term for the Great Depression in the United Kingdom). Michael (Ben Wishaw) has been recently widowed and is struggling to raise his three children alone when the bank sends some agents to inform him that his family home on Cherry Tree Lane is in foreclosure. He’s got until Friday at midnight to cough up the cash. Enter Mary Poppins (Emily Blunt), who returns to take care of the Banks children. This time the stakes are clearly a bit higher. Instead of the children and nanny dealing with neglectful and boring parents, they have to negotiate grief over their dead mother, probable homelessness, and some light animated kidnapping. It’s a more Lemony Snicket approach that keeps the plot moving at a good pace, but may be intense for the more sensitive kiddos. The drama is balanced with some exhilarating song and dance numbers that mirror, but update, those in the original film. Remember Uncle Albert? Now we have a song with Cousin Topsy (Meryl Streep). The live action/animated number occurs inside the pattern of a Royal Doulton china bowl instead of a chalk drawing. And instead of chimney sweeps elevating the kids to the London rooftops for a jig, lamplighters led by Mary’s friend Jack (Lin-Manuel Miranda) wind the kids through the sewers and engage in some stunt biking and parkour. Throughout, director Rob Marshall is faithful to the tone of the original film. There’s a continuity established from the opening credit sequence that continues through the choices in musical score, sets and costuming. However, Marshall’s experience directing movie musicals (for example, Into the Woods and Chicago) makes for more dynamic camera work and the occasional vaudevillian set piece. This charming bit of nostalgia makes for an excellent holiday movie that celebrates the joys of childhood, imagination and family.

★★★ Directed by #JamesWan Written by #DavidLeslieJohnsonMcGoldrick Starring #JasonMomoa #AmberHeard #PatrickWilson Film Review by #MattWeiner A movie that brings together Willem Dafoe, Nicole Kidman, Julie Andrews and Dolph Lundgren is inevitably going to have a lot going on. That’s certainly the case for James Wan’s Aquaman, a weird mix of origin story, Arthurian myth and anti-racist appeal to coexistence. If that sounds like a lot for the frat bro character from 2017’s Justice League, well… it is. But thankfully it’s also never boring. The new movie takes place after the events of Justice League, allowing half-man/half-Atlantean Arthur Curry (Jason Momoa) to resume his day job of serving as a one-man Coast Guard and drinking. Flashbacks piece together Curry’s life story: his father (Temuera Morrison) fell in love with the queen (Kidman) of the underwater kingdom Atlantis, who later had to choose between endangering her taboo love child or returning to the kingdom. A series of tragedies pushes Curry on his hero’s journey, with enough family strife between him and his half-brother Orm (Patrick Wilson) to fill a Greek play. Together with the Atlantean princess Mera (Amber Heard), Curry strikes out in search of a golden MacGuffin along with his destiny, even finding time to pick up an archenemy for good measure (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II as Black Manta). How much of a comfort it is that Aquaman is one of the better recent superhero movies depends on where you fall on the debate over whether distinctive directors should get picked for more of these big comic book projects (and given a long leash)—or if you wish we lived in a universe where they could pursue these visions without yoking themselves to Disney/Marvel or DC. It is to the film’s benefit that Wan, veteran of horror franchises Saw, The Conjuring and Insidious, manages to tie Curry’s predictable Arthurian ascent to the most disturbing Lovecraftian horror this side of Hellboy. And it’s almost shocking to see the cotton candy brightness of Atlantis after the pummeling color palettes of Batman v. Superman and Justice League. With his nonstop pace, steady stream of exotic settings and action that never gets bogged down in its own seriousness, Wan’s entry in the genre hits the mark as his loving homage to vintage Spielberg and Lucas—plus tentacles. Best of all, it’s a refreshing reminder that you shouldn’t need a flowchart and multi-phase corporate synergy to make a good popcorn movie. Which is good because it doesn’t look like these franchises are going anywhere anytime soon, so if any other directors are looking to wed their creative vision to the corporate motherships then maybe I can learn to be more tolerant of the products they give birth to. It’s a message that sounds oddly familiar.

★★★ Directed by: Alan Richard Halls Written by: #AlanRichardHalls Short Film Review by: #ChrisOlson Vanilla. Strawberry. Chocolate. The tricolours and flavours of glory for any lucky boy or girl whose parents bought them neapolitan ice cream when they were young. If the famous dessert brings back loving and dear memories you may want to keep them unspoilt and avoid #shortfilm Neapolitan Porno from filmmaker Alan Richard Halls. Halls puts the ice cream front and centre in his rapid homage to the inglorious porn movie style of the 1970s. With a retro aspect ratio and tacky visuals, Halls goes as far as to shoot on super 8mm film in order to reproduce the look and feel of a '70s porno. The content is not actually sexual or even adult. Instead, the film is a fun and silly display of applying toppings to actual ice cream in a way that suggests lasciviousness. Nuts, cream, and sauce all make an appearance which are likely to get a giggle from audiences of a foolish disposition. Foodies everywhere will be able to relate to the stirrings they feel when a properly prepared gastro delight is in the making, even if they don't quite narrate the moment out loud. There are much better movies out there that explore passion around food but you are unlikely to stumble upon many that go to these raunchy lengths. There are also a couple of comedy notes which land well at the end of the piece regardless of the lack of any plot or ulterior thematic depth. Aesthetically there are some impressive aspects in Neapolitan Porno. The quick editing is wonderfully engaging, keeping the viewer in a state of bafflement for the entire running time (which isn't that long to be fair). The use of intense close-up shots also creates a powerful effect on the audience. We are given huge frames of oozing ice cream and toppings thrown with reckless abandon. The atmosphere created is one of gluttonous ecstasy that is uncomfortable and exhilarating in equal measure. It's three scoops of unadulterated voraciousness. The contrasting tones of a porno with a food prep clip make for a unique viewing experience and Halls prepares his movie well. Filmmakers attempting blends of cinematic styles and atmospheres should be commended and the ingredients here are as unlikely as you are going to find. Regrettably, the result, much like the desert, is an unnecessary and whimsical deviation that will have you longing for something wholesome and proper in no time.