There’s such a strong sense of the natural world in Aaron Wilson’s filmmaking, both the Australian bush around the Murray River near Tocumwal in his latest film, Little Tornadoes, and the dense, lush green jungle of Singapore in his previous first feature, Canopy (2014). It provides a sobering backdrop against which the human stories play out; whether it’s surviving the deadly pursuit by an enemy in World War II (Canopy), or surviving the loss, heartbreak and abandonment of being left by your wife and finding yourself sole parent to two small children (Little Tornadoes) – in both cases, the urgency and impact of the human stories are given scale by Stefan Duscio’s beautiful, evocative cinematography – as important as these events seem (and are) to the characters in the stories, the natural world is more or less oblivious to trials and tribulations of we humans scrabbling around on the planet’s surface. It’s an interesting context in which to explore these stories of men dealing with the after-effects of trauma and the crippling effects of the male’s all too common inability to talk about painful, personal and emotionally debilitating issues.

It's hard to talk about Little Tornadoes without talking about Canopy. Wilson has said that these two very personal films form two parts of a trilogy exploring the impacts of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and, interestingly they were both shot back to back in 2013 but the post production on Little Tornadoes has taken almost ten years. The two films are inextricably linked. Canopy ends with the downed fighter pilot, Jim (Khan Chittenden) being thrown into a truck by his captors and driven down a Singapore road which match-cuts to a shot of a different truck driving down a dusty Australian road and a view of an older man, presumably an older Jim (Robert Menzies) standing in a wheat field. Little Tornadoes begins with a similar shot of a car driving down the same dusty Australian road. This time, though, it’s Leo (Mark Leonard Winter) who we will soon discover is Jim’s son. 1942 has become 1971 and both father and son are struggling to come to terms with the emotional impacts on their lives – for Jim it’s the embedded trauma of the war he’s grappled with for thirty years; for Leo the trauma is fresh, sparked by a wife who, unable to bear her life in a small country town with her taciturn husband, has hopped a train to Melbourne.
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For much of the first part of the film, it’s Leo’s story we’re focused on – how he deals with suddenly becoming a sole parent to Maudey (Minnie Liszukiewicz) and her younger brother (both on and off screen) Jack (Freddy Liszukiewicz); how he deals with a seemingly total lack of domestic skills, how he deals with the fact that his departed wife won’t even speak to him or her children on the phone, and how he deals with the entrenched racism in his workplace, aimed at Tony (Fabio Motta) who, it seems, is his only friend and support. It’s Tony who puts Leo onto his sister, Maria (Silvia Colloca) with the recommendation that she cooks really well. And she does! Bringing Maria into the house to help with meals and the children is the first step towards Leo accepting the change that has taken place in his life, and to opening up his family to new possibilities. Around this time, though, Jim’s story insinuates itself into the narrative and we see more clearly the generational inability and paralysis of these two stoic, isolated, uncommunicative men who gird themselves against dealing with the changes that have come into their respective lives. ​

When handled well, bridging the generations by paring an older actor with a younger actor can sometimes create a cinematic chemical reaction where the result is greater than the sum of its parts. I don’t mean creepy male- fantasy-Woody-Allan kinds of films – I mean films like Harold and Maude (young Bud Cort and old Ruth Gordon - Hal Ashby, 1971) or As Good As it Gets (old Jack Nicholson and young Helen Hunt – James L Brooks, 1998) or Lost in Translation (old Bill Murray and young Scarlett Johansen – Sophia Coppola, 2003); films where it’s not about sex, per se, but about differing perspectives on life and death and genuine ageless human connection.

So, casting two great actors; young Aubrey Plaza (so great on TV’s in Parks and Recreation and on the big screen in 2017’s Ingrid Goes West) up against old Michael Caine (so great in almost everything except 1987’s Jaws: The Revenge) has precedent that should give one cause for excited anticipation. Unfortunately, there are no sparks between the two, so the excitement never really gets ignited. This isn’t really the fault of the actors/ They both turn in quite watchable and engaging performances, it’s just that they seem to be in different movies. Partly this is a problem with a derivative and predictable screenplay from first time screenwriter Anthony Grieco and partly it’s down to Lina Roessler’s direction which allows the two actors to perform their characters in quite different, mismatched rhythms and tones.

The story, itself, certainly has promise. Lucy Stanbridge (Plaza) is the daughter of well-respected publisher Joseph Stanbridge (Luc Morissette) who has left her the firm which, it seems, she’s run into near bankruptcy by putting all their eggs into a young adult fantasy novel that’s tanked. Sensing her desperation, slimy competitor (and Lucy’s ex) Jack Sinclair (Scott Speedman) is about to close the deal on buying the ailing business when Lucy stumbles across an old contract her father made with bestselling author Harris Shaw (Caine). Shaw hasn’t published in fifty years and his contract stipulates that he owes them a book which, of course, has just finished writing. It also stipulates that his work is not to be edited at all on the proviso that he participates in whatever publicity the publishing house has in mind. Shaw, of course, is a curmudgeonly self-centred, whisky-soaked misanthrope and the last person you’d want to be accompanying on a book tour, but Lucy holds him to the contract’s terms and Shaw needs the money so, off they go.

No doubt you can already see where this story is heading (and that’s exactly where it goes) and that would be fine if there was enough frisson between the two to distract us from the familiarity of the path we’re on. But there’s not. It’s like Lucy, Jack and Lucy’s kooky PA, Rachel (Ellen Wong) are all in a remake of You’ve Got Mail (Nora Ephron, 1998) or its superior predecessor The Shop Around the Corner (Ernst Lubitsch, 1940) but then, where does Harris Shaw fit? He doesn’t. He’s in some other movie that, frankly, I’d prefer to see. Caine’s cantankerous take on Shaw is enjoyable enough but it’s chalk to the cheese of Plaza’s daffy, desperate Lucy. ​

It’s obvious that director/writer Tom Gormican and co-writer Kevin Ettern have a lot of love for Cage. Fans will be delighted with references, throwbacks and Easter eggs associated with his iconic roles, from The Rock to Mandy. Cage also has visions and speaks to a de-aged Wild at Heart version of himself, which is simultaneously hilarious and terrifying. One particularly memorable scene sees Javi proudly show the actor his excessive Nick Cage shrine, complete with a statue of Cage which he calls ‘grotesque’. It’s evident that he doesn’t take himself too seriously, and the film is all the better for it. Even audiences who aren’t familiar with Cage’s body of work can find something to enjoy, specifically the film’s central bromance.

Cage and Pedro Pascal make for a brilliant comedic duo, and it's the relationship between Nick and Javi that is the heart of this film. Both are at a point where they’re stuck and unfulfilled - Cage in his career, and Javi in his crime family, when really he wants to fulfill his creativity. It’s natural that the two are drawn to each other, and Cage and Pascal’s chemistry radiates off the screen. They clearly had a blast making this, and Javi’s delight at spending time with Cage is endlessly charming. Pascal firmly holds his own on screen, even in Cage’s presence, and proves he has the comedic chops needed for a film like this. 

Tiffany Haddish and Ike Barinholtz, comedic actors in their own right, aren’t given as much to do as CIA agents Vivian and Martin, but deliver with the material they do have. One could also argue that the film could have pushed its meta commentary on Cage’s career even further, but perhaps that would have been a distraction from the film’s heart and made it less accessible to a wider audience. 

THE UNBEARABLE WEIGHT OF MASSIVE TALENT will remind audiences why Nicholas Cage remains such a beloved force in Hollywood, no matter what role he’s taking on. This is not simply a showcase for Cage, but a celebration of the craft he’s dedicated his life to. It is ridiculously fun thanks to the pairing of Cage and Pascal, and one of the funniest, and surprisingly heartwarming, films of the year so far. 

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It’s difficult at first to guess when the film is actually set. There are no phones or computers, and the girls’ outfits aren’t indicative of any particular time period, nor the way they speak. Little details slowly reveal its setting - the boys wearing suits and ties, the Elvis-inspired music playing at dances, and the revelation that our young protagonist was born in 1940. This can make the earlier parts of the film slightly jarring to watch, and challenging to contextualise. However, that may just be the point. This story is frighteningly timely and relevant to today’s society, with abortion still being condemed and banned in certain countries, including states in the U.S. Diwan wants to remind us that some women are still denied the choice almost sixty years after the film is set. 

The narrative is cleverly structured through each week of Anne’s pregnancy, which creates a ticking time bomb and sense of unease. It plays out like a psychological thriller with the use of handheld and close-up shots, claustrophobic atmosphere and minimalistic but alarming music. The audience is very much in Anne’s mindset. The first half is definitely slower than the second, which could be on purpose, as she has time on her side before things become urgent. While mood is a significant vehicle to create discomfort for the audience, so are the film’s extremely graphic scenes. It’s not always easy to watch and can be quite hard to stomach at times. When Anne is unable to find someone to help her, she attempts to carry out her own abortion, and later have one illegally. Diwan isn’t afraid to show us the ugliness and brutality of it all, and it’s certainly a lot. While a portion of it does feel excessive, it also highlights the catastrophic consequences when abortions aren’t performed professionally and safely. 

HAPPENING is an incredibly well made and important film that is simultaneously subtle and bold. Leading actress Anamaria Vartolomeni is stunning in this challenging role, and Diwan should be applauded for approaching this subject with such empathy and grit. 

HAPPENING is playing in select cinemas from April 14, 2022. ​
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While the previous instalment lacked the whimsy so synonymous with the Potterverse, The Secrets of Dumbledore succeeds in making this franchise fun and enjoyable once more. This is largely due to utilising what made the first film a hit - its group dynamic. Eddie Redmayne reminds audiences why he was the perfect choice to play Newt. His awkward, quirky and good- hearted nature makes him the heart of this film and franchise. Dan Fogler is once again delightful as muggle Jacob, bringing warmth and relatability to the story. There are new additions also, the standout being Lally (Jessica Williams), a U.S. wizarding professor who steals each scene with her charisma and charm. The beasts in the film’s title also offer some terrific laughs, easily making this the funniest Beasts film. Newt’s Niffler and Bowtruckel make for an iconic duo.

As the title promises, we indeed uncover secrets to Jude Law’s Dumbledore. This is a very different Dumbledore compared to the long bearded, majestically robed and mysteriously wise version in the Potter films. However, as layers are peeled, we learn more about the man who became that old wizard. Now for the big question - how does Mads Mikkelsen’s Grindelwald shape up against Johnny Depp’s? Fans can rest easy, because Mikkelsen’s version is far superior to Depp’s. Grindelwald is cold and calculated, as Mikkelsen gives an understated yet chilling performance. It’s a shame he wasn’t initially cast from the beginning.

While THE SECRETS OF DUMBLEDORE is a vast improvement over its predecessor, one can’t help but notice the overarching issues this series has. There is a disconnect between the two main storylines belonging to Newt and Dumbledore. Whose film is it really? Is this a Fantastic Beasts or a Harry Potter movie? It seems like the filmmakers aren’t so sure either. There’s a few Potter throwbacks and references in the film, and the characters even visit everyone’s favourite magical school. While it’s exciting and fun to return to Hogwarts, it’s not all that necessary, and is an obvious play on nostalgia that isn’t fully earned. The inevitable showdown between Dumbledore and Grindelwald is also teased, which might explain why it feels like the story is building up to something bigger. This is the third installment though, and that luxury can’t really be afforded at this point, making the film’s third act slightly anticlimactic. Fans will have to accept that the Fantastic Beasts series will never quite match up to the standard of the Potter films, and while flawed, THE SECRETS OF DUMBLEDORE does recapture the magic once again.
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The genre owes a lot to films like Fred Schepisi’s Last Orders (2001) in which Bob Hoskins, Tom Courtney, David Hemmings and Ray Winstone are the old friends who set out to fulfil Jack Dodds’ (Michael Caine) wish to end his days by the sea in Margate with his wife Amy (Helen Mirren) or to Emilio Estevez’s The Way (2010) in which Thomas Avery (Martin Sheen) sprinkles his son Daniel’s ashes along El Camino de Santiago where the boy met his end, or even Taika Waititi’s Hunt for the Wilderpeople (2016) in which cantankerous Hector (Sam Neil) is on the run with recalcitrant foster kid Ricky (Julian Dennison) who, unbeknownst to Hec is carry the ashes of the old man’s wife to the place ‘...where the earth wets the cloak of the sky...’ where she wished to be laid to rest.
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The reason to remind ourselves of these familiar patterns is that each new ‘cremains roadtrip’ movie should do more than simply employ the cookie-cutter by changing the identities of the deceased, the travellers and the destination. Two of the three films I’ve seen recently (both showing at the 2021 British Film Festival) don’t quite manage that – in Jules Williamson’s Off The Rails, Sally Phillips, Jenny Seagrove and Kelly Preston (in her final movie appearance) receive the news ‘Big Chill’ style, that their friend Anna has died and left them tickets to ride the European Interrail to the Festival of Light in Spain which the four of them had always promised they would do (yes, there’s no actual ashes in this film but the tropes are pretty much the same) – meanwhile in Gillies MacKinnon’s The Last Bus, Timothy Spall is the grieving widower who comes up with a plan to use his pensioner bus-pass to travel free of charge on local buses all the way from John O’Groats (the most northerly tip of England) to Land’s End (the most southerly tip) so he can scatter his wife’s ashes in the place where they first fell in love. Both these films play out in exactly the way we suspect they will, relying on the tropes of earlier, much better films to carry them on their long, plodding journeys full of no surprises to get where we all knew they were going from the start.

The third film, however, is the pick of the bunch and finds some freshness in the well-worn path underscored by some pretty good, nostalgic music (that is, if you’re a fan of ‘The Modfather’, Paul Weller).​

​Sometime later, in the small Pyrenees village of Lescun not far from France’s border with Spain we meet Jo (Noah Schnapp) a young shepherd who lives with his mother (Elsa Zylberstein) and his grandfather (Jean Reno). Jo’s father (Gilles Marini) is a soldier who’s been captured and held prisoner by the Germans. One day, in the woods, Jo encounters Benjamin who he soon discovers is hiding out with his mother, known locally as the Widow Horcada (Anjelica Houston). Benjamin tells Jo that he and his daughter Anya had an agreement that as soon as she could, she would meet him here at grandma’s place – hence the title of the film. But when Jo stumbles upon a small child, Leah (Enola Izquierdo Cicuendez) in the barn, he finds himself the keeper of Benjamin and the Widow’s secret – they are helping Jewish children escape across the mountains and into Spain. For Jo, keeping the secret becomes harder and riskier when the Germans post a garrison in the village to close off the possibility of such escapes. The garrison is led by a young, arrogant Lieutenant (Tomas Lemarquis) and his older, war-weary Corporal (Thomas Kretschmann). In order to protect both Benjamin and the children from being discovered, Jo becomes the go-between, ferrying food and supplies from the village to the Widow’s farm some distance away (strangely, no-one thinks to question the rather huge amount of food the Widow seems to consume each week). But his task is made more difficult when the Corporal takes an interest in birdwatching with Jo and his intellectually disabled friend Hubert (Declan Cole).

This is a complex and potentially compelling story with all the right elements to make its telling by a cast of excellent actors the likes of Huston, Reno and Schnapp both thrilling and poignant. Yet, somehow, the performances, the themes and the narrative never quite connect in a way that allows us to engage beyond the surface. The best scenes are those between Jo and the Corporal where the boy is able to understand that the nationality and the uniform of the man don’t automatically tar him with the same Nazi brush and that the two surrogate father figures in his life – Jewish Benjamin and the German Corporal – are not the stereotypes that their respective ‘sides’ choose to characterise each other. These scenes reach a level of emotion and authenticity that is sadly lacking in most of the rest of the film and Kretschmann in particular finds a depth of performance that sets him apart from the rest of the cast. Conversely, the scenes between Huston and Reno which you would hope might crackle (especially when there’s a bit of romance involved) are mostly flat and by the numbers.

Is it the writing? Is it the direction? Is it the source material? It’s probably a combination of all three but however that formula plays it, it makes for a plodding and unsubtle narrative where the characters are more likely to speak in obvious ways that should be subtext, rather than in more well crafted and subtle dialogue. For the audience, there is little need for reading between the lines – the lines tend to say exactly what each character is thinking or feeling.

This might also account for why there are very few surprises in this film; we see all the moments of intensity coming a mile off and can pretty much predict what key characters will do when their arcs hit their key moments. There is also the curiosity of choosing to deliver all the dialogue in accented English (with the exception of a few common key words – bonjour, tres bien etc for the French, nein, Schnell etc for the German). It’s just one more element that undermines the authenticity of the film. It’s a shame, because in surer more experienced hands it’s easy to see how this could have been a much more compelling and suspenseful film. In some ways it’s reminiscent of yet another recent World War Two film; last year’s Resistance (written and directed by Jonathan Jakubowicz) which also told a tale of French citizens attempting to confound the German invaders by smuggling children across the Alps, this time into Switzerland. (in that film, the focus is Marcel Marceau played by Jesse Eisenberg who fought with the Resistance before turning to mime) Both films have all the ingredients they need for much better outcomes, but both end up underdone. In the end, Waiting for Anya is interesting enough as a story and makes good use of some spectacular scenery nicely photographed by Gerry Vasbenter, but it travels very familiar roads in ways that offer nothing new to a trope that’s been presented to us again and again. ​

Sadly I admit that when I saw the name and poster of this film I did not know who Cousteau was. Sitting down to watch it, I was fascinated and ready to learn everything about him and why they spent time creating this documentary. As soon as I heard a British interviewer say, “Captain Jacques-Yves Cousteau”, a lightbulb turned on.

​Being a young child in the 90s when Cousteau passed away (1997), I had heard his name spoken frequently and remember his trademark red woollen cap and blue shirt. However, I never had the full experience of seeing his immense work of capturing the ocean on film, inventing diving equipment, and most importantly the environmental work during throughout his later years.
 
BECOMING COUSTEAU provides the audience with all the incredible visual footage of Cousteau’s experiences from early black and white film of free-diving and spearfishing in France to the early iteration of his invention the ‘Aqualung’. In such pristine condition, the footage shows in detail the highs and lows of the life he built on the sea with his family and crew. Giving the illusion of intimacy, many of the films he produced and footage he captured were all on his boat, the Calypso.

​This sense of intimacy is in most part to his love for cinema, which he started filming alongside his brother at the age of 13. This lead to Cousteau directing 23 films and producing 45 films and television programs in his 87 years. Like the fascination of space travel, underwater exploration was just as exciting for young children of the 60s and 70s who followed Cousteau’s adventures – literally bringing the depths of the ocean to millions of people.
 
With the story's narration and interviews all recorded from moments in Cousteau’s life, this beautifully produced documentary lets the footage shine and shows the dedication to centring Cousteau as the hero of this story. While he is shown as an incredible man, his acceptance of his own flaws allows for the documentary to reveal the hardships he and his family went through mentally and physically; the early accident that led him to discover free-diving, the guilt he had for his work with oil companies in his youth and their treatment of the coral reefs, all lead to his tenacity to protect the oceans.    
 
While BECOMING COUSTEAU will bring back the magic to people who grew up watching his films, in a way, the perfect audience of this documentary are children of the late 90s and beyond. Experiencing Jacques Cousteau’s incredible work, which is collated within this film feels as close as you could have to have seen it at the time of these films' release. 

Becoming Cousteau is in selected cinemas now. ​​