Adapting her life for film might have seemed like an appealing idea if conjured in a spontaneous burst of inspiration, but when you explore beyond the legend, what’s left is an ordinary life bereft of romance. She was a modest woman who resided on her family’s property and lived a reclusive life. Considered to be free-spirited and emotionally temperamental, she struggled to comprehend the world around her, whereby notions beyond her perception were deflected with hostility and self- loathing. And so, with very little flexibility for a overarching narrative, director Terence Davies (The House Of Mirth) focuses his energy on the characters and has, in turn, created a performance-driven piece that is only as strong as its players… which is very strong in deed.

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In it Foxx plays Nevada PD Detective Vincent Downs, a cop so dirty his colleagues feel the need to shower after conversations with him; you know the kind. Bad dad and shitty husband, devotes too much time to the job. After the dirty cops botch a clandestine heist that yields a surprising 25kgs of cocaine, Downs and his partner become the focus of the buyers and the sellers of the narcotics; son of mob-boss, Novak (Scoot Macnairy) and Luxus casino manager Stanley Rubino (Dermot Mulroney). In retaliation, Downs' 16-year old son is kidnapped until the drugs can be returned and the deal transacted. 

To compound the problem, Internal Affairs agents Bryant and Dennison (Michelle Monahan and David Harbour respectively) have begun investigating, thanks to the presence of government issued ammunition at the heist scene, and instantly the filthy Downs has become the prime suspect. The fall-out (and everyone involved) collide in Rubino's casino over the course of one night while everyone tries to get their shit straight before Daddy Novak shows up and whips everyone's ass.

Think SNAKE EYES meets CRANK with neither the wit of the former nor the velocity of the latter.
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​In an age where the police thriller has been elevated to almost an art-form, no thanks to talents like Michael Mann and David Ayer, SLEEPLESS wants so badly to play with the big-boys and be Vegas Vice, what with all its crisp neon lights and deep focus into the Nevada night sky, it's gruff, dirty police and sharp-suited criminals, but while it looks the part thanks to Romanian director of photography, Mihai Malaimare, SLEEPLESS' biggest letdown is Andrea Berloff's derivative script, which is a crying shame given her last effort - Mel Gibson's BLOOD FATHER - was a lean, mean mother-fucking machine!

Too much of SLEEPLESS is recycled and derivative to make it worth the while of the more than capable cast. We've seen it all before and we've seen it better. We've seen the visuals, the archetypes, the combat, the gunplay, the plot twists all before. Foxx does well with the physical requirements, handling the fisticuffs as well as he does the odd scene of familial softness. Monahan does her best in as the largely thankless expositional mouth-piece, grissling her way through the cynical, one-note IA role. It is refreshing, however, to see a tough female cop that doesn't rely on hyperbole in order to convey toughness. 
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Ultimately SLEEPLESS biggest problem is that it has no big problems. It's a fine film. Its not a great film and it's not horrible film. It's just a fine film...
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Set in 1979, against the backdrop of Santa Barbara boarding house, Annette Bening plays Dorothea, the owner of the house and a progressive single mother who struggles to raise her teenage son, Jamie (Lucas Jade Zumann). When her liberal approach to parenting fails to connect with him she enlists the help of two younger women living in the building; Abbie (Greta Gerwig) a 20-something photographer who is recovering from cervical cancer, and Julie (Elle Fanning), Jamie's confused and promiscuous best friend. Dorothea asks them to enlighten Jamie and when their influences on him become too liberal (even to her standards) she finds herself faced with her own personal demons while struggling to cut the apron strings of their mother/son relationship.

There is something immediately personal about 20th CENTURY WOMEN and it is not surprising to learn that the film is semi-autobiographical. The overarching narrative, while at times bewildering, is told with conviction and the characters are given their own invaluable backstories, giving the story depth and complexity. The strength of Mill's writing lies in his familiarity with the era and his casual pacing of the plot. He has placed his characters in an era where he seems comfortable, and with a well-placed soundtrack and a retro-centric ambience he explores the coiled relationships with earnestness and good humour.

Annette Bening's performance as Dorothea is quite possibly the best of her career. She invests in the character with all that she's got and adopts mannerisms and traits that we haven't seen from her before. Mills capitalises on the vulnerability within her expression with well-placed close ups and a lingering camera, and with an equal measure of experience and nativity Bening takes Dorothea on a journey of self discovery which progresses as she lives vicariously through the lives of others.
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Her co-stars are excellent too and make for one of the year's most dynamic ensembles. Lucas Jade Zumann gives a wonderfully understated performance as the film's focal character, Jamie. I spent the entire film watching him while trying to place his face. I knew him from something I had seen recently and I was sure he was good in whatever that was. It wasn't until I got home from the cinema that I realised that he had played Gilbert Blythe in the recent Netflix series ANNE WITH AN E (a praise-worthy adaptation of Anne of Green Gables). These two performances couldn't be any more contrasting, nor any better. His turn in 20th CENTURY WOMEN is effortless and as equally vulnerable as Benings... and given that his character is the focal point of the story it irritates me that Mills chose a title that solely draws attention away from this crux.

Elle Fanning gives another exceptional performance as the dispositioned best friend who struggles to express herself and has a desperate need for nurture. With this film adding to a line up of titles including THE NEON DEMON, TRUMBO and LIVE BY NIGHT Fanning is fast becoming one of the most impressive female actors of her generation. In fact her demeanour as Julie in 20th CENTURY WOMEN had me recalling her performance in Francis Ford Coppola's 2011 film TWIXT. It was a poorly received horror film that failed to make an impression (although I enjoyed it) but it also showcased her undeniable talent and foreshadowed the sort of performer she would become. In many ways her sunken and melancholic demeanour in that film has found its way into this one.

Greta Gerwig lends solid support as the recovering cancer survivor who has yet to fully process the weight of her ordeal. She seeks solace in fantasy and adheres to the rise of feminism, and Gerwig's performance is both tenacious and vulnerable. She turns to a fellow housemate, William (Billy Crudup) for comfort. He is a mysterious gentleman drifter who is ever present and willing to impart friendly advice when sought. Crudup play the role with the reliable composure that he instills in most of his characters. He is great, as always.

20th CENTURY WOMEN is Mike Mill's best work to date, and it oozes sincerity. His script is smart, heartfelt and very funny – and deserving of its 2016 Oscar nomination. Think of a less-melodramatic Cameron Crowe film and you will have an understanding of what to expect. Let me reaffirm that the title sorely misrepresents the film, and even though it does makes sense in relating to certain themes of the story, it certainly doesn't encapsulate the greater narrative. This is a highlight of the year for me so far and I cannot recommend it enough.  

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It is an immediate wink to the audience, and a signal that we’re in for a facetious and deliberate satire. What follows is 2 hours of unapologetic ridicule, mindless action and relentless comedy.

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BEWARE! THE BLOB was directed by Larry Hagman (yes, of I Dream of Jeanie and Dallas fame) and his involvement in such a low-budget independent film is just as perplexing as the film itself. The story goes that he lived next door to the producer of the original and had never seen the '58 film starring Steve McQueen. When the producer showed him the film Hagman said that he could get lots of his friends together for free (because they would all want to be blobbed) and that he would direct it. Lets suppose that he had energy to burn and needed to “spaz out” a little, because it's the only explanation.

And so what he created was a film unlike any other. It isn't a sequel at all, but rather a re-imaging. It adheres to the basic premise of the previous flick but injects a heavy dose of camp, which masquerades as satire. Furthermore, his direction was strangely surreal whereby he flirted with absurdism and lunacy. Take the opening title sequence for example; the film opens with an upbeat piece of music as a kitten frolics amongst long grass. It has no purpose aside from disorientating the viewer and it makes no sense. And yet that confusion is where much of the film's charm lies.

​Yes it's a bad film. It's a terrible film! But it's so damn fun. Hagman precedes each of his death sequences with insanely stupid set-ups, such as a husband camping in his lounge room while watching the original '58 movie, or a fat nude Russian man running down the highway... or a barber who refers to himself as a 'hair sculptor' and charges $400 per sculpt... and then splat, THE BLOB ATTACKS! It's total insanity! So insane that it could even be passed off as an art film.

The cast is inconsequential with a heap of Hagman's mates popping up for a scene or two. Some of them include Gerrit Graham, Dick Van Pattern, Cindy Williams, Sid Haig and Burgess Meredith, amongst others. And I could have sworn that I caught a glimpse of Paul Williams in there too.

Suffice to say that BEWARE! THE BLOB is a mixed bag of talent and mayhem. A stupid and ludicrous venture with no obvious redemption. As I already mentioned, there is definitely an element of charm, and it's the kind of schlock that you can enjoy with a puerile frame of mind. If you embrace the absurdism them you'll have a stack of fun but as far as sequels go in general (and creature-features for that matter) it is an absolute turd. No wonder Hagman never directed again.  ​

Ridley Scott’s attempt to provide subtext to the series has, so far, seems to have proven to be a misguided ego trip, one that steered the series far from its original concept. His obsession with exploring the origins of the Xenomorph species (the Aliens) has ultimately tarnished the franchise and proven to be an exercise in style over substance. Needless to say, I did not enjoy his latest entry, the second Alien prequel, Alien: Covenant.
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Based on an acclaimed stage show by Chilean playwright Ariel Dorfman, the film depicts the intense psychological exchange between three people in an isolated country-house. On a cold, stormy night in an unknown location, a stranger knocks on the door of Paula and Gerardo Escobar’s (Weaver & Wilson) home. The stranger is Dr Roberto Miranda (Kingsley), whose car has broken down nearby. The Escobars invite him in, offering him a meal and a seat beside their fireplace. As the pleasantries transpire, Paula begins to withdraw, starting to suspect that Dr Miranda is in fact the very same man who tortured and raped her 15-years prior. What unfolds is an intense night of confrontation as the characters lock horns; Paula fervid for revenge and Miranda in a desperate plight of innocence.

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Then his modestly budgeted Boston-set private eye directorial debut dropped and not only was it very good, it was arguably a modern American crime classic. A morality tale that was as much about the city it was set in as it was about a missing girl and was typical of the kind of deep emotional complexities scribe Denis Lahane is famed for.

It's no surprise then, that here, in LIVE BY NIGHT, Affleck's fourth film as writer-director should also have its source with Lahane once again although it's more closely aligned with his second film THE TOWN.

In it the Square-Jawed One plays Joe Coughlin, a small-time Boston gangster and son of Police Chief Tom (Brendan Gleeson) who makes it his business to stay in the middle of the warring Irish and Italian factions that rule his town. But when Irish head-honcho Albert White (Robert Glennister) discovers Benny-Boy is banging his girl (Sienna Miller) he makes everybody's life miserable, forcing Joe in to bed with the Italians who ship him off to run their bootleg operations in Tampa where he must seize control, forge business relations, battle the Ku-Klux Klan and make a play for minor politics.

Thanks to TEEN WOLF's popularity with the 80's teen audience an inevitable sequel was made two years later. And like some other sequels of the era it was given the classic “Too” moniker, in lieu of the traditional “2” (refer to SPLASH TOO, THE JERK TOO). With Michael J Fox soaring the heights of Hollywood the film was recast with a young Jason Bateman who, like Fox, had come straight from the world of television sit-com. With Bateman's father serving as the movie's producer he was an obvious choice, and a good one.

​In the film Bateman plays Todd Howard – cousin to Scott (Fox) – who arrives at a new college campus on a full sports scholarship. Despite not having a sporting bone in his body he is registered to the wrestling team, following the recommendation of a teacher who taught his cousin, and discovers that his family's Lycanthrope lineage gives him super-human abilities. And so there's a new Teen Wolf in town and no one bats an eyelid. In fact no one so much as flinches when Todd transforms into a werewolf for the first time. A girl looks at him and says “oh, you're a dog!” while another girl reassures him “Everything will be fine”... how's that for tolerance, huh? Todd also earns himself a superstar status and takes the college by storm.

TEEN WOLF TOO is an inferior sequel in many ways, most notably due to a lacklustre script and an uninspired story. It repeats the formula of its predecessor but fails to re-capture the spirit. Obviously these are important qualities that the movie abandons, but all is not lost thanks to the quality of the production design and the enthusiastic performances. Despite being made for video (with a limited theatrical run in some places) the film maintains the aesthetic of the first instalment, which makes for a seamless continuation and Bateman makes for a suitable substitute for Fox, despite his on-screen presence being less energetic. He's also supported by James Hampton and Mark Holton (reprising their roles) as well as Stuart Fratkin assuming the role of Stiles and John Astin as the college dean. 

The way I look at it TEEN WOLF TOO was made to be seen when you've suffered from TEEN WOLF ONE fatigue. The first movie is an undeniable classic (take note Millennials) which demands repeat viewing... but sometimes you can over do it and TEEN WOLF TOO is the alleviation you need. It's the sequel that is by no means an equal, but is – nevertheless - a supplement that maintains the dietary intake . And for added trivia, a third instalment was written only to be reshaped into a stand-alone movie called TEEN WITCH (a trilogy would have been cool).
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There are three things that I wasn't expecting... firstly SPAGHETTIMAN makes a fundamental emotional connection with its audience, secondly it is brilliantly written, and thirdly it is hilarious! I was no further than 20-minutes into the film when I felt compelled to cook myself a bowl of ramen noodles. I put the movie into pause-mode and addressed the situation, before watching the rest of SPAGHETTIMAN with a deliciously themed meal. Rarely does a film speak to me on this level and I don't recall enjoying 'audience-participation' as much before. THIS is the type of emotional connection that even the teariest Merchant-Ivory Production struggles to make.

The movie follows the daily trials and tribulations of Clark, a dishevelled loser whose life consists of mooching off others and watching TV. When he eats a bowl of spaghetti that has been over-nuked in the microwave he suddenly develops the ability to produce spaghetti at will. Not only can he shoot spaghetti from his wrists, he can piss spaghetti too. With his newfound powers he puts a paper bag on his head and adopts the persona of “Spaghettiman”. He takes to the street saving people from peril for his own personal gain. His services are special but do not come freely, and Clark profiteers from the misfortune of others.

Some may describe the synopsis as stupid, whereas I would call it genius. It is a ludicrous concept that its creators have embraced and - in turn – created one of the funniest films of the year. Director Mark Pott's, along four co-writers, have written a clever, taut and satirical film that is concise and consistently hysterical. Potts compensates his budget restraints and technical limitations with a script that takes the piss out of the superhero genre and delivers a fun narrative that refuses to lag.

Clark/Spaghettiman is played by Winston Carter, a scruffy-looking guy making his feature-film debut, and for a bloke without much experience he certainly has a natural on-screen presence. His comprehension of the comedy and his emphatic delivery of gags are on-point, and his lethargic demeanour might suggest that a lot of his material was improvised. From his lazy and slobbish quirk to his confident and reckless hero persona, he gives to micro-budget cinema what Christopher Reeves gave to blockbusters (or more appropriately, what Toxie & SGT Kabukiman gave to Troma).

SPAGHETTIMAN might be a cheap independent film with no commercial appeal, but for those smart enough to look beyond its bare-bones production it will prove to be one of the most outrageously fun movies you will see in ages. It represents the sort of filmmaking that we need to nurture and the calibre of talent that we should champion! It is the very type of movie that people like James Gunn (GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY) were making before Hollywood came knocking and it will – hopefully – go on to become a cult favourite.

Do yourself a favour and watch SPAGHETTIMAN!!

SPAGHETTIMAN is now available to buy on DVD from Umbrella Entertainment. 

Along the way she may also discover the truth about herself and the cloning fiasco that's haunted her since, well, forever.

​With each new installment of the surprisingly resilient franchise, Anderson's imagination becomes incrementally less tethered to any kind of reality. These films have become multi-million dollar playgrounds for his imagination and a way for his wife to strut her stuff while he banks another couple million bucks.

Nothing wrong with that, mind you, but it would be nice if once in a while there was a little thought given to character. The people populating the films become afterthoughts, they become a modus of delivering new and increasingly grotesque ways of doing away with the hordes of newly designed undead baddies.