Reviews

(Spanish title: La Mesita del Comedor entonces pero Coffee Table).

New parents Jesús and María visit a furniture shop, where Jesús, against his wife's loud objections, purchases an expensive but tacky flatpack coffee table with a glass top.

Returning home, they briefly chat to a female neighbour, and Jesús spends a few agitated minutes fending off the romantic advances of her 13 year old daughter, who is obssessed with him.

Having retreated into their apartment, Jesús assembles the table while María complains at him and then goes shopping. While she is out, an incident occurs involving the coffee table.

The rest of the movie involves Jesús' hilarious attempts to conceal his embarrassing mistake from his wife, his brother, his brother's vegan(!) girlfriend, his neighbours, and, somewhat bizarrely, the furniture salesman.

This sharp little comedy will delight and surprise a wide range of viewers, but particularly those with small children.

I rate The Coffee Table at 26.64, which works out as a zesty 8/10 on IMDB.

At the end of WWII, failed kamikaze pilot Koichi Shikishima suffers a crippling combination of survivor's guilt and PTSD following his narrow escape from Gojira's attack on an island garrison of the Dai-Nippon Teikoku Rikugun.

Returning home to find Tokyo bombed to ruins and his parents dead, he attempts to rebuild his life in the company of an orphan baby and a young woman whose parents were also killed by the American bombings.

Nuclear experiments by the US army cause Gojira to mutate and grow prodigously, and he attacks the Ogasawara Islands for no apparent reason. Briefly repelled by a lucky blast from a sea mine, he returns later to finish off whatever's left of Tokyo.

With the US military too nervous to intervene in case Vladimir Putin drops a nuclear weapon on Times Square, and the Japanese government bizarrely deciding it's best if they just do nothing and hope Gojira goes away, Shikishima and his buddies must work with a private sector consortium to defeat the monster once and for all, using... bubbles and balloons?

I liked the retro setting, and the low-tech approach to beating Gojira. I also enjoyed this iteration of his atomic breath, which was powerful enough to vaporise an entire heavy cruiser. The effects are good too. But that's the most I can give it.

For a 2 hour movie, Gojira -1.0 has atrocious pacing. There's too much 'human interest' material, and most of it involves humans we've been given too few reasons to be interested in. Gojira himself barely appears, and doesn't do much when he does; he's not even the main focus of the plot, he's just a plot device for a different kind of story.

I rate Gojira -1.0 at 16.65 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as a bitterly mediocre 5/10 on IMDB.

It's the future, and everything's gone to ****! Swamped by rising tidal waters due to global warming, the world has been reduced to just two land masses, perpetually at war with each other.

Somewhere in the middle of the vast ocean, four tired soldiers on a sea fort are waiting impatiently for their relief shift, which is now well overdue. They send regular reports to their superiors, but never receive a reply. The fort houses an insanely powerful nuclear weapon, which the soldiers are authorised to use as a last resort.

When their relief boat arrives empty and battered, the soldiers must unravel the mystery and make some difficult decisions about the feasibility of survival and escape.

I really wanted to like this movie. The premise was solid, and the tiny cast of four could have worked. But the pacing was too slow, and at 2 hours, it was at least 30 minutes too long. This could have been mitigated by a powerful ending, but lack of creative vision resulted in an anticlimactic wheeze rather than the powerful statement it could have been.

It doesn't help that the whole thing is riddled with implausible plot points and inconsistencies that detract from the immersion.

I rate Last Sentinel at 16.65 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as a mediocre 5/10 on IMDB.

When I first heard about Skinamarink, I thought it sounded like one of those weird Kyle Edward Ball movies. And I was right: it is one of those weird Kyle Edward Ball movies. But is that a bad thing? Let's find out!

The premise is simple: two small children (Kevin and Kaylee) wake up in the middle of the night to discover their father is missing, and the nature of the house is changing erratically.

All windows and exterior doors are spontaneously replaced by walls (preventing any escape), toys and other objects warp into eldritch shapes, and household items randomly flicker in and out of existence.

Some of the lights still work, but the rest of the house remains in semi- or total darkness. Even the flow of time appears inconsistent.

As Kevin and Kaylee explore the house, they encounter a mysterious and unmistakeably sinister presence. Then, without warning, it begins to speak.

If you're already familiar with Ball's work, you'll have a good idea of what to expect here. If you're not, you're in for a rare treat. Be aware that this is an experimental film, and defies the usual genre categories.

Ball produced Skinamarink on a micro-budget in just seven days, with a cast of four, using digitally replicated film grain and aggressive framing techniques. His application of oblique angles is particularly unsettling.

Sound design is exceptional for a production of this calibre, and I was impressed by Ball's courageous decision to use a 10 layer audio track without any music.

I rate Skinamarink at 23.31 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as an ambitious 7/10 on IMDB.

Before Juon, before Chakushin ari, before Honogurai mizu no soko kara-and yes, even before Ringu!-there was Kyua. This largely overlooked psychological thriller is the true pioneer of J-horror as we know it today.

Kenichi Takabe is an overworked police detective who struggles to manage his high pressure job and his sweet but mentally unstable wife, who suffers frequent episodes of amnesia and psychosis.

Takabe investigates a strange murder in which the killer has no motive but freely confesses the crime and surrenders willingly to police. It quickly becomes clear that this is just the first of several such murders, all following the same pattern.

Enquiring further, Takabe finds the common link between each killing: a mysterious man called Kunio Mamiya, who came into contact with every murderer shortly before they committed their crime. Mamiya appears to have short term memory loss, and claims to know nothing about himself but takes curious pleasure in questioning others about themselves.

Takabe is convinced that Mamiya is somehow responsible for the killings, but cannot explain the motive or method. The murders continue even after Mamiya's arrest, and Takabe's own mental state begins to break down.

Kyua starts off as a standard police procedural, but veers swiftly into the bizarre. Its long takes and near total absence of music (used very briefly, in just three scenes) maintain a powerful sense of tension and psychological claustrophobia. This truly is a masterpiece of the genre.

I rate Kyua at 26.64 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as a gripping 8/10 on IMDB.

It's late at night in a deserted factory primed for demolition, with just two security guards responsible for covering 18 floors! What could possibly go wrong?

Anyway, Joey and Tiffany have to check each room on each floor of the factory to confirm that it's clear, before the demolition crew arrives at daybreak. The rooms are sealed with tape, armed with alarms, and monitored with security cameras, so it should be an easy job. But when alarms start going off for no apparent reason while doors mysteriously open and close, Joey and Tiffany start to wonder if they might have a problem that doesn't match their job description.

The Unborn was wildly successful at the prestigious Shriekfest Film Festival, where director Tal Lazar and writer Danny Matier won the highly coveted Best Horror Feature. Despite this, it has inexplicably languished at a pathetic and wholly undeserved 3.8 on IMDB.

I find this difficult to comprehend, because The Unborn is a very close to a master class in short filmmaking (it clocks in at a sparse 70 minutes). The characters are well drawn, the tight plot is constructed swiftly but efficiently from a sparse framework of clues, the acting is solid, and the conclusion is punchy. Fans of the indy scene will immediately recognise Manni L. Perez and Chris Bellant in the lead roles.

I rate The Unborn at 26.64 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as an impressive 8/10 on IMDB.

It's South Korea, where all the young women look like young girls, and all the young men look like young women!

Anyway, a bitter and disillusioned Yoon Young-hwa is back at work following a demotion from prime time TV news anchor to B grade current affairs radio jockey. The reasons for this demotion are not yet clear, but we get some allusions to an 'unsavoury' incident.

During the talkback segment of his show, Yoon receives a phone call from a mysterious man threatening to blow up a bridge if he doesn't get an apology from the president for... something. Yoon calls his bluff, and immediately a bridge blows up, leaving a bunch of people dead and many others trapped.

In a bold demonstration of the ethical decision-making that got him demoted in the first place, Yoon refuses to call the police, and persuades his boss to film him live as he continues to negotiate with the bomber, hoping that this will give him the publicity boost he needs to regain his prestigious anchor role. As the incident unfolds, new secrets are revealed, gritty choices are made, and we quickly discover that nobody in this mess is as innocent as they claim.

Deu tae-ro ra-i-beu is a solid and refreshingly intelligent thriller that treads a familiar path among the classic South Korean themes of corruption, glacial government bureaucracy, corruption, loyalty, betrayal, corruption, deceit, media influence, filial piety, and corruption.

I rate Deu tae-ro ra-i-beu at 26.64 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as an impressive 8/10 on IMDB.

Yes, it's another Korean horror movie, and this time it has zombies (imagine my shock!)

Alone in his family's apartment, Oh Joon-woo is disturbed by wacky shenanigns outside. People are running around the place like a bunch of nutters, biting and clawing at each other in a way that suggests something could be very wrong with South Korea. When a neighbour bursts in and rapidly turns into a zombie before his very eyes, Joon-woo realises he's in for a rough ride.

In the apartment block opposite Joon-woo's, Kim Yoo-bin finds herself facing the same dilemma. Can the two survivors somehow make contact, share resources, and plan an escape to a more secure location? Yes they can, and that's exactly what they do for the rest of the movie, and it's astonishingly dull to watch.

#Saraitda takes time to build atmosphere (which it does poorly) while consistently failing to build tension. The pacing is turgid at best, and the characters just aren't very interesting. There's a few obvious plot holes and a needless pinch of deus ex machina, but I could have overlooked these flaws if the story was engaging. The entire production feels rather flimsy and generic.

Thematically, #Saraitda doesn't have much to offer. Yes, it's an obvious commentary on the fragmentation of South Korean society, but so what? You could say that about any South Korean movie made in the past 15 years.

I rate #Saraitda at 13.32 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as a mediocre 4/10 on IMDB.

What would happen if director Kevin Ko mashed the scripts of Ringu, Gokseong, and Noroi together, then dropped them from a 7 storey window into a muddy puddle? Let's find out!

It's Taiwan, and some weird ******** is happening for no apparent reason! But don't worry, because protagonist Li Ronan has been making a video diary of her experiences, so she can dump as much exposition on us as she needs to at any given moment.

Anyway, she used to be part of a ghostbusting team until the fateful day when they visited a weird cult and ****** around with some stuff that should definitely have been left un-****** with. Two thirds of the team ended up dead, and Ronan's as-yet-unborn daughter was stricken with a terrible curse.

The movie shifts back and forth in time, revealing fresh pieces of the past to explain the present. Ronan doggedly records her efforts to lift the curse, addressing the audience directly as she urges us to participate in the incantation ritual which is supposed to bless her daughter and restore her health. But is Ronan a reliable narrator? Are we even getting the full story? What happens next will shock you!

I rate Zhou at 24.97 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as a respectable 7.5 on IMDB.

Can the Boers make a half decent horror movie? It's complicated, and also no.

Gabi (played by Monique H. Rockman) is a forest service ranger on a routine data collection mission with her colleague Winston (played by Anthony W. W. J. Oseyemi). While travelling down a river, Gabi loses contact with the drone she is using to survey the terrain, and they stop at the river bank so she can retrieve it.

Gabi's foot is almost immediately mutilated by an unexpected spike trap, and Winston helpfully cripples his walkie talkie by dropping in the water, thereby ensuring they can no longer communicate. Gabi quickly becomes lost as she wanders deeper into the forest, while Winston - alarmed by her screams - blunders vaguely in what is probably the opposite direction (it's hard to tell) and completely loses his bearings.

Gabi eventually arrives at a small wooden hut, where she collapses with exhaustion. As night falls, Winston is pursued by strange bipedal creatures. Taking refuge at the base of a large tree, he is infected by weird type of fungus that begins to spread across his body.

Gabi is roused by the arrival of plant pathologist Gerand and his son Stefan, who have been living in the hut ever since Stefan was conceived there during Gerand's honeymoon with his wife (who died of cancer 13 years ago). Since Gerand refused to leave the forest after his wife died, Stefan has been raised there without any knowledge of the outside world.

Gerand tells Gabi that there is a vast biological mass living beneath the ground which has existed for hundreds of thousands of years, and is now the largest organism on the planet. It is somehow connected to the fungus, which infects humans and takes control of them (sort of? This is not well explained) allowing it to spread further

Gabi wants to escape the forest as soon as possible, yet Gerand - who is stark raving mad and worships the unnamed biological mass as a god - insists that she must remain with them.

There's only a few places the plot can go from here, and to be fair it chooses the most interesting option. But the slow trudge towards the film's resolution is an arduous one, with too many more questions raised than answers provided.

The message of Gaia is somewhat muddled by its presentation, and I'm not even sure that the director was entirely clear on the details. It's an interesting concept, but there's just not enough meat on the bones to make it stand out from the crowd of films already filling the popular and well established eco-existentialist/neo-fungphobic/body horror genre.

I rate Gaia at 16.65 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as 5/10 mildly competent Boers on IMDB.

Marie is busy navigating the aftermath of a broken relationship when she receives a mysterious letter summoning her to the island where her mother was buried. The grave has been vandalised, and for legal reasons the local caretaker needs her advice on how to proceed.

Marie's ex-boyfriend helpfully drives her to the island, which is separated from the mainland by a folding bridge. Before crossing, they are advised that this is offseason, so the bridge is due to close at night and will not reopen until months later.

What happens next will shock you!

Offseason is a nice little indie film from experimental writer/director Mickey Keating, who most recently impressed me with Pod (2015).

Keating has a nice flair for atmosphere, so Offseason spends most of its 82 minutes being creepy as ****, ramping up the tension until it's tighter than piano wire.

The plot is simple, and draws clear inspiration from H. P. Lovecraft's Cthulhu mythos in a way that I found both creative and respectful to the original works.

Keating does a fine job of blending traditional thriller/suspense motifs with cosmic horror, and there's a scene near the end of the movie that proves he knows exactly how to handle a big reveal.

I rate Offseason at 23.31 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as a highly respectable 7/10 on IMDB.

Joko Anwar explores the darker aspects of Indonesian society in this slow burning retro styled psychological neo-noir thriller.

Gambir, a gifted sculptor, wins fame and fortune with his realistic statues of pregnant women. Over time, however, he becomes disillusioned and even concerned by the monotony of his work. Yet his ambitious wife and manager compel him to go on, and its not long before cracks appear in their relationship.

At the same time, Gambir is haunted by strange experiences that seem to hint at a lurking danger. Combined with the guilt of his hidden past, this mysterious threat weighs heavily on his fragile mental state, leading to a catastrophic event that will change everything he knew!

While there's no denying the bold ambition of Anwar's work, Pintu Terlarang fails to satisfy. It is oddly directed, with unusual cuts that only distract from scenes that would otherwise be impactful. This is made worse by an unnecessary number of twists and turns in the plot, which inspire more irritation than intrigue.

Thematically, Pintu Terlarang is all over the place. Anwar has scooped up a bunch of social issues, thrown them at the wall with no particular enthusiasm, and waited to see what sticks. The result is as messy as you'd expect. When the big reveal finally occurs, there's not much reason to be excited about it.

I rate Pintu Terlarang at 16.65 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as a lacklustre 5/10 on IMDB.

Lee Haven Jones (Wizards vs. Aliens, Pobol y Cwm, and the controversial Caerdydd) dips his toe into the porous border between fantasy drama and folk horror with a highly ambitious experimental film that's as weird and creepy as the Welsh language itself.

The staging is mundane: an evening meal hosted by a rich businessman and his wife, assisted by a young waitress hired from the local hotel. But even before the guests arrive, strange tensions are building, and we quickly discover that not everything is at it seems...

What does Euros know about the strange discovery at the heart of the recent prospecting excavation? Where did Cadi learn to cook? Why does Gweirydd keep fondling his genitals? You won't learn the answers to any of these questions, but it's fun to speculate!

Gwledd (The Feast) enjoyed stunning first weekend box office returns of $3,620 in the US and Canada-making it the most commercially successful Welsh film in history-but this grim, slow burning post-modern Celtic noir will suit the taste of only the most discerning audiences.

I rate Gwledd at 23.31 on the Haglee Scale, which works out at a sinister 7/10 on IMDB.

Cameron Diaz, Frank Langella, Kevin Robertson, and Michele Durrett? I mean... OK sure, let's give it a shot.

So there's this young married couple called Arthur and Norma, and they need a lot of cash real fast because reasons.

Frank Langella (who for some reason is calling himself 'Arlington Steward') turns up with a mysterious box with a button on top, and tells them that if they press the button they will receive $1 million cash (tax free) but at the same time, someone they do not know will die.

Here's the weird part: nobody notices that it's actually Frank Langella!

Anyway, Norma presses the button to progress the plot, and it works. What happens next will shock you!

The Box is adapted from a short story by Richard H. Matheson. It has the look and feel of a big budget X-Files episode, but in a good way. The plot has many strands, including-but not limited to-NASA, space travel, determinism, and existentialism. Yet somehow, all these elements are woven together coherently.

IMDB reviewers have not been kind to The Box, which currently languishes at a massively underrated and entirely undeserved 5.1. This is absolute ********.

I rate The Box at 24.97 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as an ambitious 7.5 on IMDB.

It's Iceland, and Noomi Rapace is there for some reason!

Anyway, Hilmir Snær Guðnason is just doing his thing like he usually does, until one of his sheep gives birth to a lamb and... something else.

Then Björn Hlynur Haraldsson arrives, and apparently he doesn't approve? Also he really wants a piece of Noomi Rapace, but she's not so keen.

Ingvar Eggert Sigurðsson gets involved at some point, though I can't remember how.

And there's a surprise appearance by Arnþruður Dögg Sigurðardóttir!

So yeah, Dýrið is definitely a movie that I recommend. It's weird, it's depressing, it's super creepy, it's highly unsettling, and it's a breath of fresh air.

Produced on a budget of just 2.5 million Icelandic hjelfisk, this film will delight and surprise viewers of all ages.

I rate Dýrið 26.64 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as an unconventional 8/10 on IMDB.

With a brisk runtime of just 2.5 hours, Villeneuve's 2021 remake of David Lynch's critically acclaimed 1984 blockbuster classic is clearly intended as a starter rather than a main course.

Its plot covers the first three chapters of the first book of the 28 canonical volumes of Francis H. Herbert's controversial Galactic Drug Trade saga. A sequel (currently planned for release in October 2023) will summarise the rest of the books.

If I could summarise this movie in just two word, they would be 'wasted opportunities.' There is so much good about it, yet Villeneuve inexplicably omits several elements I had eagerly anticipated.

What I liked... Villeneuve's vision of Lynch's interpretation of Herbert's work unfolds in a far distant where Western and Eastern cultures have coalesced and humanity now exists as a single race of interstellar Space Arabs.

The ceaseless battle for resources and territory is dominated by countless aristocratic families and war clans. Of these, we meet just a few.

House Corrino: Mongolian Space Arabs. House Harkonnen: Nazi Space Arabs. House Artreides: Scottish Space Arabs. Bene Gesserit: Muslim Space Arabs. Fremen: xenophobic libertarian Space Arabs.

This was all very cool and imaginative. I loved the sound of the Sardaukar language, especially the throat singing.

Villeneuve's visuals are flawless. There is a palpable sense of epic scale in his vast sets, titanic space ships, and massive battle formations. This imposing 'visual mass' (as Høenig calls it) combines with the sparse colour pallet to produce a masterclass in fictional worldbuilding. Everything on the screen feels heavy, solid, and real.

The Bene Gesserit 'Voice' technique is depicted very differently to the book, but I liked how they did this.

The music is exceptionally good, with a strong Hans Zimmer vibe that falls somewhere between Blue Planet II and Blade Runner 2049.

What I didn't like... The anaemic 12A rating takes a heavy toll, particularly in the combat scenes. Fights are bloodless, poorly choregraphed playground scuffles without a hint of suspense or genuine threat. Boo!

The Harkonnen are ludicrously sanitised. They look good, yet I just can't take them seriously. Boo!

Baron Wladimir is still an imposing figure, but without the bestial menace and sexual depravity that was so well showcased by Lynch. In Villeneuve's depiction he comes across as a mildly aggressive uncle with gastric problems. He doesn't project any sense of evil or violence. Boo!

Glossu Rabban (played by the goofy alien guy from Guardians of the Galaxy) has the personality of cardboard and all the thrilling masculine energy of a plastic spork. Very poor casting here. I have no idea what they were thinking. Boo!

The Mentats' role is never explained, and they lack the defining characteristic of Sapho-stained lips. Boo!

We are told that Melange is used by the Navigators for interstellar travel, but not how or why. We never see a Navigator in action, and we are robbed of the majestic Third Stage Navigator entrance scene for which Lynch's film has become famous. Boo!

There's probably more, but that's all I can think of right now.

I rate Denis Villeneuve's Dune 2021: Part 1 at 24.97 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as 7.5 Space Arabs out of 10 on IMDB.

It's Denmark, and Mads Mikkelsen has been accused of kiddy fiddling!

Harmless shenanigans at a local kindergarten are grossly misrepresented by a child, resulting in a slow but unstoppable avalanche of lies and paranoia.

Mikkelsen is brilliant as usual, but the big surprise is Annika Wedderkopp, whose talent is simply frightening. The chemistry between them must be seen to be believed.

If you watch carefully you'll see that Klara never blinks throughout the first 20 minutes of the film. Combined with her oddly consistent sniff and blunt, adult-like responses, this gives the eerie impression of a child who is older than her years.

Of course she is utterly adorable as well, but that only adds to the tension.

I rate Jagten at 25.5 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as a gut wrenching 8.5 on IMDB.

Alexandre Aja and Grégory Levasseur. What could possibly go wrong? Quite a lot actually, but somehow we ended up with a winner.

First conceived as a Christie LeBlanc screenplay in 2017, Oxygène struggled through years of production hell. The original decision to cast Anne Hathaway in the lead role was quickly recognised as a mistake, and she was soon replaced by Noomi Rapace. Franck Khalfoun came on board to direct, with Aja producing.

But by 2020 it was all falling apart. Aja kicked Khalfoun out of the director's chair and seized it for himself, while Rapace was dismissed over concerns about 'ideological syncretism.'

Following a discussion with investors that Aja later described as 'passionate but not entirely unreasonable, with intermittent screams', Mélanie Laurent was chosen as the new lead.

Oxygène won't win any awards for innovation, and leans a trifle too heavily on its meagre cast of just three(!) credited characters, but its heart is in the right place and its cinematography implies the budget of a much bigger film than it actually is.

Mathieu Amalric is the clear audience favourite, with his cool and calming Parisian tones. Malik Zidi does what he usually does, and does it tolerably well. But it is Laurent who really steals the show as she grapples with the dilemmas of a late middle aged existential crisis.

It was Foucault who said 'People know what they do; frequently they know why they do what they do; but what they don't know is what what they do does.' Oxygène takes this wisdom and toys with it, teasing out the conceptual strands for a gentler, more compassionate examination.

Aja and Levasseur are intent on answering the questions we almost never dare to ask: questions about life, memory, dreams, and the philosophy of loveplay. The conceptual framework here is reminiscent of Brecht and Eisler, but with a distinctly Büchnerian flavour. It's an aggressively bold experiment, and I revelled in the audacity of it all.

I rate Oxygène at 23.31 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as a perky 7/10 on IMDB.

This neat little sci-fi indie film was produced in just 4 weeks on a budget of $700k. Amazon picked it up for their streaming service, but it really deserves a full scale theatrical release.

The movie stars an 18 year old Sierra McCormick as deliciously wholesome 16 year old school girl Fay Crocker, and Jake E. Horowitz as local disc jockey Everett. The chemistry between them is superb, and their performances are utterly convincing.

It's the night of a big basketball game in a quiet US rural town, and Fay is busy on the phone switchboard while Everett presents his evening show to an audience of less than a dozen. A bit of random weirdness leaves Fay on edge, and as the tension ramps up she realises something very big is about to happen. With Everett's help, she tries to unravel the mystery while juggling filial and vocational responsibilities.

The camera work in this film is second to none. There's one particularly long tracking shot that has to be seen to be believed. The dialogue is wonderfully natural, and the pacing is perfect.

Keep your eyes peeled for a neat little Easter egg referencing a famous work of classic sci-fi!

I rate The Vast of Night at 29.97 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as a breathless 9/10 on IMDB.

It's Norway, and Ingvar has been murdered because of drugs or something! Nils is grief-stricken and confused until Finn provides a clue that leads him to Jappe.

Questioning Jappe leads Nils to Ronaldo, who tells him where to find Strike.

A brief but eventful interview with Strike reveals that Greven is responsible for the killing.

Marit is angry with Greven. Greven is angry with the Albanians.

Nils visits Egil, who advises him to hire the services of Kineseren. Huyen is upset by this, but it's a moot point because the plan goes awry when Kineseren visits Greven, who is still angry with the Albanians.

Greven arrives at Egil's house, and it doesn't end well. Greven tells his men to kill the Albanians.

Marit visits Greven to shout at him, and it doesn't end well.

Papa is angry because Greven has kidnapped and killed one of the Serbs. Greven realises this was a mistake, and orders his men to kill Geir. A henchman brings Geir's head to Papa, and it doesn't end well.

The Serbs plan to kidnap Rue, but Nils kidnaps him first and sets up a meeting with Greven that doesn't end well.

This witty contribution to the Nordic noir/dark comedy/vegan genre will delight and amuse viewers of all ages.

I rate Kraftidioten 29.97 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as an uncompromisingly brutal 9/10 on IMDB.

Imogen Poots stars as Jemma, alongside Jesse Eisenberg as Jesse Eisenberg in this well crafted contribution to the popular and well established horror/mystery/Kafkaesque/existential dread/psychological noir genre.

I really like Imogen Poots, and she is pootsy as hell in this film. Her gorgeous 'girl next door' look works perfectly in every frame. Jesse Eisenberg puts in the hard yards as a slightly toned down version of himself.

The story starts with Jemma and Jesse accepting an offer to visit some display homes. They follow the salesman to an estate that's so new, the roads don't even have signs yet. The houses are nice enough, but every one is identical. Curiously, they're all painted in the same shades of green. The whole situation is a very weird, but they roll with it until... well, you'll need to watch the movie to find out.

Vivarium is arguably the best interpretation of Franz Kafka's work to date, and draws upon two of his most well known quotes:

'Better to have, and not need, than to need, and not have.'

'I am constantly trying to communicate something incommunicable, to explain something inexplicable, to tell about something I only feel in my bones and which can only be experienced in those bones. Basically it is nothing other than this fear we have so often talked about, but fear spread to everything, fear of the greatest as of the smallest, fear, paralysing fear of pronouncing a word, although this fear may not only be fear but also a longing for something greater than all that is fearful.'

Kafka himself was a poor interpreter of his own work, which he rarely studied and often misunderstood. This is why films like Vivarium are so necessary.

Jemma and Jesse are defined not by their characters, but by their relationship and its uneasy dynamic. The arrival of a newcomer is destabilising because they cannot adapt to a situation over which they have no control. Jemma's realisation of this fact is neatly articulated in Act 2, when she says 'Believing in progress does not mean believing that any progress has yet been made.'

It is only much later in the film that they finally realise they are free, and this is why they are lost. As Jesse says in Act 3, 'I am in chains. Don't touch my chains.' It's a powerful and highly relatable metaphor.

Vivarium was brought to the big screen by Lovely Productions (in association with Fantastic Films, Frakas Productions, PingPongFilm and XYZ Films) on a tiny budget of $4 million, most of which came from a grant donated by Deutsche Telefunken. Its high production values confirm that the money was well spent.

I rate Vivarium at 29.97 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as a Kafkaesque 8/10 on IMDB.

Heath Ledger set the benchmark for Joker movies in 2008, and in the 11 years which have passed, nobody's come within a long country mile of his performance.

Until now.

I am not a fan of the DC universe, and I tend to find DC movies pretty laughable. But this dark origin story for the Joker is easily one of the best films I've seen in years.

Joaquin Phoenix is utterly convincing. If he doesn't get some kind of award out of this, I'll be frankly astounded. His performance is absolutely consistent from the first frame to the last.

We are shown the real Joker as he was originally intended to be, before Hollywood's lazy depictions warped him into a cheap imitation of the comic book villain.

Most important of all, we finally learn the Joker's true origins.

Batman's dad is a complete *******, just like Batman will grow up to be. He had an affair with the cleaning lady, which resulted in the birth of the Joker. This means the Joker is Batman's older half brother, which explains the animosity between them.

The cleaning lady is fired, and forced to sign a confidentiality agreement. She lives in poverty with the Joker, who knows nothing of his connection to Batman.

The Joker eventually finds out and is understandably aggrieved. He visits Batman, but doesn't get a chance to explain their relationship.

The Joker becomes disillusioned with society. He does some stand up comedy, and manages to get a spot on the Murray Macklemire show, where he takes his revenge on society

Batman's parents are murdered by a bunch of clowns because screw rich people.

I went into this movie with low expectations, and they were blown right out of the water.

Supervillain films usually follow the 'bullets and explosions' formula, but this is nothing like that. It's a well crafted piece of cinematic genius that delivers the most authentic portrayal of the Joker ever produced for the big screen, and (at long last!) the canonical story of his twisted origins.

To me, the ultimate significance of Joker is twofold: it's the first movie to rehabilitate the Joker as a sympathetic anti-hero with an official backstory, and it's the first movie to establish Batman as a canonical character within DC's Dark Extended Jokerverse

I rate Joker at 29.97 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as a stunning 9/10 on IMDB.

Controversial Japanese director Shin'ichirô Ueda has surprised and delighted critics with this clever take on the popular and well established zombie horror/documentary/satirical black comedy genre.

This is a movie that requires patience. It starts slow, and accelerates at a casual pace. The first act runs for about 20 minutes, and at the end of it you might be reaching for the remote already.

Don't.

The second act unfolds just as slowly as the first, but as more details are revealed you'll realise just how clever this movie really is. The third act kicks off with gusto, and it's a wild ride to the end.

Ueda produced his micro-masterpiece on a budget of just $25,000, using unknown actors. It has since delivered returns of more than 1,000% at the box office.

I rate One Cut of the Dead at 26.64 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as a razor sharp 8/10 on IMDB.

It's the future, and everything's gone to ****! Also, everyone is now Swedish for some reason?

Anyway, Earth is completely screwed because of things, so we're all ******* off to Mars. The opening scene shows space colonists riding a space lift attached to a space rope, which pulls them up to a space ferry in space.

Thanks to radical advances in space science that are never explained, the trip to Mars will take about three weeks. Even better, the space ferry has more facilities than a luxury cruise liner, so it's going to be a pretty sweet ride.

Just a few days later the space ferry is struck by some space junk, loses all of its space fuel, and veers drastically from its space course. This is a bit of a pain in the space arse, but the captain hails his passengers to reassure them that he can use the mass of the next significant planetary body to slingshot the space ferry back on track.

Unfortunately they'll have to wait about 13 months before they're in range of an appropriate planetary body. That's a bit of a drag, but the passengers are persuaded to exercise patience.

And then... it gets even worse. Horrifically so.

Aniara is an adaptation of the now legendary epic science fiction poem Aniara: en revy om människan i tid och rum by unpopular Swedish poet Harry Martinson.

First published in 1956, Martinson's opus consists of 103 cantos and explores themes such as science, nature, existentialism, terror, despair, and the necessity of art. Needless to say, the film conveys these themes extremely well.

Aniara is a Swedish/Danish collaboration, with additional funding from Suomi Perkele and Deutsche Telefunken. Production values are good, but budget limitations are clearly visible. A few more krona would have made all the difference.

I rate Aniara at 29.97 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as a breathtaking 9/10 on IMDB.

The latest attempt at a 21st century incarnation of The Wicker Man. It fails spectacularly, because the last person who knew how to do what Robin Hardy did in 1973 was Robin Hardy, and nobody ever had the decency to ask him. Also, he died in 2016.

Let's start with the good points: (a) cinematography; it's visually stunning, and Florence H. Pugh looks gorgeous; (b) music; it's bold, evocative, and atmospheric

Now the bad points: everything else.

There is no plot. Some people go to some place, some stuff happens, and then the movie ends. If you're looking for narrative, you won't find it here. Why? Because **** you, that's why.

'Plot' holes, poor characterisation, and general inconsistencies are glossed over like the eighth layer of varnish on your grandmother's piano. Why? Because **** you, that's why.

No attempt is made to develop a coherent belief system for the members of the Swedish cult. Why? Because **** you, that's why.

The cultists' religion is never presented in any systematic way. Its rituals and traditions are entirely arbitrary, and seemingly unrelated to each other. Looks like the scriptwriter said 'Let's just make them do a lot of weird stuff. The weirder the better, so we don't need to explain it.'

Why did they do this? Because the rituals don't need any significance. And why is that? Because they're just a vehicle for the violence, the sole purpose of which is to shock the audience. But the turgid predictability of the screenplay kills any latent tension, so there is no shock at all, and the violence is just boring.

The critical failing of this movie is its lack of a clear protagonist. The original Wicker Man had a powerful plot driven by a strong protagonist, an even stronger antagonist, and the clash between their respective worldviews.

By contrast, Midsommar has... nothing. While its main characters do experience increasing discomfort, their worldview is accommodating to a fault, and yields at the slightest push. As the crazy mounts up on all sides, they continue to rationalise it away in the name of political correctness. This robs Midsommar of an ideological collision; the very motif that worked so well in Hardy's film.

Apparently Swedish cultists use jazz hands instead of clapping, because of course they do. Let's borrow one of the dumbest idea from American social justice warrior culture, and shove it into a movie based in northern Europe. Great stuff.

I rate Midsommar at 13.32 on the Haglee Scale, which works out as a shockingly flawed and highly derivative 4/10 on IMDB (2 points for cinematography, 1 for music, and 1 for Florence H. Pugh).