Viewings: June 2025

Tesis, a dark, low budget, Spanish thriller from the '90s, and Danny Boyle's divisive, coming-of-Rage sequel 28 Years Later were the standouts amongst the first viewings this month. Otherwise, it's mostly been an underwhelming affair; in particular, older films I was eager to see (e.g. Privilege).

The absolute best films were rewatches: The Taking of Pelham One Two Three, Dark City and 28 Days Later were all in a higher league compared to everything else.

Finally catalogued all my film reviews into one place. Link in the side bar.

 

Film:

Behind the Mask (John Francis Dillon, 1932)*

Black Moon (Roy William Neill, 1934)*

Horrors of Spider Island (Fritz Böttger, 1960)

The Silent Star (Kurt Maetzvig, 1960)*

Privilege (Peter Watkins, 1967)*

Signals: A Space Adventure (Gottfried Kolditz, 1970)*

Taste the Blood of Dracula (Peter Sasdy, 1970)

Violent City (Sergio Sollima, 1970)

Eolomea (Herrmann Zschoche, 1972)*

The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (Joseph Sargent, 1974)

In the Dust of the Stars (Gottfried Kolditz, 1976)*

Outland (Peter Hyams, 1981)

Delicatessen (Marc Caro, Jean-Pierre Jeunet, 1991)*

Jade (Director's Cut (William Friedkin, 1995)*

Tesis (Alejandro Amenábar, 1996)*

Dark City (Director's Cut) (Alex Proyas, 1998) 

28 Days Later (Danny Boyle, 2002)

28 Years Later (Danny Boyle, 2025)*

Ash (Flying Lotus, 2025)*

Clown in a Cornfield (Eli Craig, 2025)*

Final Destination: Bloodlines (Zach Lipovsky, Adam Stein, 2025)*

The Shrouds (David Cronenberg, 2024/2025)*

Sinners (Ryan Coogler, 2025)*

 

Television:

Doctor Who - 'Battlefield' (Michael Kerrigan, 1989)

Doctor Who - 'Survival' (Alan Wareing, 1989) 

MobLand - Season One (Various, 2025)* 

 

*First time viewings.

 

Dada Debaser Notes:

• To celebrate the 50th anniversary of Jaws this month and pay respect to the legendary film composer Lalo Scifrin, who passed away a few days ago, here's his version of the well known theme.
• Did a review of the recent Doctor Who series before it potentially enters the wilderness years again.
• Loved Peter Watkins's mock documentaries The War Game (1966) and Punishment Park (1971). Privilege is set in an authoritarian Britain where Paul Jones, of the group Manfred Man, has messianic powers over the population. This benefits his handlers, the church and the Labour and Conservative coalition which runs the country. It's nowhere near as fun as its audacious premise sounds, and by the end, I was relieved it was over. Doe-eyed Jean Shrimpton plays the love interest that predictably turns Jones's character against the establishment.
• Once you get through the first two Guy Ritchie gangster fairytale episodes of MobLand, the series becomes even more ridiculous. Tom Hardy single handedly wiping out an entire warehouse full of villains like he's John Rambo, is one example. Still not quite as over-the-top as Gangs of London, however.
• Watched a bunch of socialist, sci-fi films from East Germany this month. The adventure driven The Silent Star was the only interesting stand-out from what was otherwise a soporific selection amongst Masters of Cinema's Strange New World's: Science Fiction at DEFA box set.
• Apart from Linda Fiorentino getting naked, the best thing about William Friedkin's giallo/erotic thriller, Jade, is its unintentional comedy. Had to remind myself I wasn't watching one of the Naked Gun movies at times; particularly during a ridiculous car chase. 
• David Cronenberg's most personal film since The Brood is surprisingly funny for what's essentially meant to be a paranoid, conspiracy thriller. Vincent Cassell, uncannily looking like the director, plays the tech guru struggling to move on after the loss of his wife. Taking his date to a restaurant adjacent to his wife's grave, doesn't exactly help matters, nor does watching her rot on his iPhone app. Too many convoluted side plots and loose ends are unnecessary distractions from The Shroud's commentary on our personal privacies being invaded, make this a mixed bag.
• Terrible VFX, idiotic characters and awful acting don't stop Final Destination: Bloodlines being a half-decent time waster. Tony Todd's ad-libbing made for a moving performance in his final ever scene.
• Loved the Blues music, the Southern Gothic milieu and Coogler's unique spin on vampire lore in Sinners. The rest; not so much. Better off watching the two films which possibly inspired it  — House Party and From Dusk Till Dawn. Miles Caton, Delroy Lindo and Jack O'Connell were good in their respective roles, regardless.
• Speaking of the latter, never did I imagine a cult inspired by one of the most monstrous British celebrities would ever crop up in a post-apocalyptic setting:

Great Film Posters of the 2020s

Feeling burnt out writing mostly reviews lately on this blog. Therefore, here are some great film posters that would bless the walls of any discerning movie lover's abode; if they haven't tainted their homes already with unholy Funk Pop abominations, or vintage posters of pretentious foreign films they've never watched.

As far as I'm aware, these are all official commissions, and not some pervert from DeviantArt doing an alternative piece.

Late Night with the Devil

This official poster contains a far more strikingly, fiery image in comparison to the retro alternative. I also much prefer this title font over that over used Larchmont one in the other poster. Also, the typographic layout is far more visually interesting; particularly, in how it doesn't drown out the intentional negative space above.

Design: P+A 

MadS

The multiple pairs of eyes and the repeated titles are ingenious touches. A smart way to define three stories following one another. The nightmarish visage and the sickly colours grotesquely capture a bad trip and the zombie apocalypse.

Design: ???? 

Last Night in Soho

Really impressed how this poster can pass itself off as both vintage slice of pulp and as a fashion mock-up thanks to the perceivable use of magic markers. Striking contrast of the modern world in blues, while reds offer glimpses of the past. Two different worlds in Edgar Wright's film. Nice detail with the little stamp in the bottom corner, too.

Design: James Paterson

Warfare

Very much captures the siege aspect from the film. Fond of the oppressive colour of the building against that hazy yellow sky. The overhead telephone lines adding further geometric shapes. Really like how the most visually arresting part of the poster, for me at least, is the bold Helvetica title in a rich orange being suppressed by US marines. Totally captures the claustrophobic aspects of the film. Great poster.

Design: B O N D 

Mad God

If the eyes are the windows to the soul, than this Mad God poster makes me glad I'm not on the same continent as Phil Tippett, the film's director. You can basically screen shot any part of his insanely demented, apocalyptic film, slap the title text on it and call it a day. But I digress, I love how bold, grungy and unapologetically twisted this poster looks. Fantastic film, too.

Design: Ómar Hauksson

Prisoners of the Ghostland

The film may have been completely awful, but at least its poster is an absolute work of art. Nicolas Cage, with his back turned, standing atop a pile of bones and what not, that make up a samurai helmet, really drives home the East meets West mash-up which all were praying for to be good in the film. Wonderful choice of colours; the teal blue works so well with the red in the background. Stunning poster!

Design: Stockholm Design 

The Zone of Interest

Omitting the monumental horrors occurring in the background and turning them into a negative space while picturing the commandant's garden, perfectly highlights the film's banality of evil theme. An outstanding poster that compliments Jonathan Glazer's darkly disturbing film. 

Design: Kellerhouse, Inc. 

Benedetta

The blend of religion and eroticism in Paul Verhoeven's throwback to nunsploitation is successfully depicted in this controversy-courting poster. The film's title and Verhoeven's name forming a crucifix is an obvious design choice, but sometimes the most obvious decision is the best decision  —, and this is it, right here. Highly evocative and reminiscent of those memorable covers Nigel Wingrove would have on his Redemption Films label back in the '90s.

Design: Le Cercle Noir 

The Last Duel

The minimalist design reminds me of Saul Bass's style to a degree. Jodie Comer caught in between the duelling swords is relevant to the film's premise, and very tactile on this poster. I'm also glad it doesn't have either Matt Damon's or Adam Driver's mugs on it, in all honesty. 

Design: Legion Creative

Possessor

Can barely remember much of Brandon Cronenberg's science fiction horror film, but every time I see the poster for it on my Letterboxd feed, I keep meaning to revisit it. It's such a disturbingly, warped image. I love all the effects on it; reminds me of the Plastic Wrap filter in PhotoShop. Above all, I adore that title font being partially reflected and the poster looking like it's been submerged in a tank full of urine. Repulsively eye-catching!

Design: Legion Creative

Boyle with Rage Again

28 Years Later (Danny Boyle, 2025)

When the news was announced that Danny Boyle and co-writer Alex Garland (a dead ringer for DJ Yoda) were returning to the post-Rage blighted Britain, which they first unleashed with their horror film milestone, 28 Days Later (2002), it instantly became the most anticipated film of the year for this film blogger. It was an absolute game changer to the the zombie/infection subgenre. The film's innovation and influence credit it as the patient zero in all things zombie related throughout the Noughties and 2010s. Therefore, its creators seemingly have a mighty task in delivering a follow-up equally as exciting, fresh  and terrifying with 28 Years Later (2025).

Decades after the Rage virus outbreak, the entirety of Great Britain has been quarantined off from the rest of the world. Survivors exist, but they are remotely scattered. Lindisfarne, also known as Holy Island, off the Northumberland coast of England, is one such example. Separated from the mainland by a natural causeway which reveals itself  in low tide, the survivors have become a living community. Amongst them, is twelve year old Spike (Alfie Williams). He must undergo a rite of passage, where he will cross over to the mainland with his father, Jamie (Aaron-Taylor Johnson), and put the hunting skills he has learned to the test. To kill your first infected is akin to a blooding in hunting; symbolising Spike's transition from a child to a man. These important steps into a proverbial larger word, will become the film's drive. This rite of passage will also play heavily in the plight of Isla (Jodie Comer), Spike's mother, who is afflicted by an illness and bed-ridden.

A special mention deservedly goes to its break out star, young Alfie Williams. Child actors tend to over act, but his performance is first rate in 28 Years Later. That's no mean feat when you're performing opposite experienced actors Jodie Comer, Aaron-Taylor Johnson, and the consistently great Ralph Fiennes. Big fan of Comer and Johnson's Geordie accents. 

We learn that the Rage Virus has evolved since the outbreak. The infected no longer starve to death, as first shown in Boyle's prior film. They are able to eat; therefore, they no longer starve to death like before. The outbreak's spread to Paris, as shown in the epilogue of 28 Weeks Later (2007), has been successfully driven back. It's an obvious retcon by Boyle;  nonchalantly explained in a blurb of text. That would explain why Boyle's vision of an isolated Britain, with European fleets around its waters, comes across as a possible allegory to Brexit. An island isolated from the rest of the modern world; one that revealed to have regressed to the past, where they use bows and arrows again. Bereft of modern tech and weaponry, various scenes from Henry V (1944), particularly where archers are drawing their bows, are intercut with the Holy Island's inhabitants. The solitary flag of St. George overlooking the North Sea.

Technically, 28 Years Later's attention to detail is on par with George Miller's post-apocalyptic Mad Max universe. All the more remarkable that returning director of photography Anthony Dod Mantle, shot it all with iPhones. Some novel visual treatments; like red night vision scenes, are particularly effective. The film also has its own brand of bullet-time; more accurately arrow-time, is a mixed result. Initially impressive, but its over use quickly becomes gimmicky A major draw, is how evocative it is of sixties and seventies era British films in its visual style and feel. Holy Land has a wonderful Summerisle vibe, along with John Wyndham's The Day of the Triffids. The latter, having already been a major source of inspiration for the first film. 

The virus's evolution has resulted in three distinctive types of infected: the fast ones that we're accustomed to from the previous entries; Slow-Lows are grotesque and blubbery humanoids which crawl on their bellies and scavenge for worms and other earth grub. The most dangerous of them all are Alphas. These specimens have been affected by the virus also serving as a growth steroid; turning them into huge, hulk-like humans, hung like a horse. They possess superhuman strength, speed and resilience and the most formidable for any armed group. Alphas are also more intelligent than their other brethren; even acting as pack leaders to other infected.

28 Years Later has three disjointed acts of varying quality. In the first act, we get to experience Spike's first trip to the mainland with Jaime. It is by far the best part of the film. Spike spends more time with his mother in the remaining acts, where we're also introduced to shipwrecked Erik Sanqvist (Edvin Ryding), a Swedish NATO soldier, who provides a window to the rest of the world. The iodine tinted, Dr. Ian Kelson (Ralph Fiennes), a Col. Kurtz-like loner is the remaining character introduced in Spike's coming-of-age tale. Plot contrivances are more apparent as the film progresses. The third act in particular is much slower paced, and very much drags at times, in its emotional development to Spike's story arc. Without delving into spoiler details, one distinctive scene attempts to pull a heartbreaking sequence, but Boyle's execution is so cumbersome, that it feels unearned and weirdly comedic. Therefore, the constant emphasis on memento mori fails to truly resonate.

Bizarrely, the final scene of 28 Years Later, one that bookends the intro, where a group of children nervously watch Teletubbies during the initial spread of the outbreak, and eventually leading to Jack O'Connell's character in the second chapter of this new trilogy, is perhaps the most jarring scene in the entire film. Brits will no doubt be familiar with who O'Connell's cult is based on, by their hair and wardrobe, but to the rest of the world, not so much. If anything, the final moments, which are beyond surreal and discordant with the rest of the film, might actually dissuade anyone even bothering with Nia DaCosta's follow-up, 28 Years Later: The Bone Pile (2026), next January, when people do some inevitable Googling.

Technically, 28 Years Later's attention to detail is on par with George Miller's post-apocalyptic universe. All the more remarkable that returning director of photography Anthony Dod Mantle, shot it all with iPhones. Some novel visual treatments, like a red night vision scenes, are particularly effective. The film also has its own brand of bullet-time, more accurately arrow-time, that is remarkable, initially, but is over used too much in the film and winds up feeling gimmicky for the remainder. A major draw, is how evocative it is of sixties and seventies era British films. Holy Land has a wonderful Summerisle vibe, along with John Wyndham's The Day of the Triffids, the latter, having already been a major source of inspiration in the first film.

Overall, Messrs Boyle and Garland have delivered a perplexing film. This ought to have been the film of the year. It's riddled with plot holes, ridiculous contrivances and tonal inconsistencies, and yet, it still manages to be an entertaining post-apocalyptic spectacle. The first act is cinematic heaven; it's just a shame the other two aren't on that same level. This is obviously faint praise, but as a first time watch, 28 Years Later is one of the more enjoyable releases from what's been an otherwise disappointing year thus far for films. Whether or not, I'll still feel the same way about it after a repeat viewing, remains to be seen.

Up to Snuff

Tesis (Alejandro Amenábar, 1996)

Video cassettes spawned a new way in how we watched films. Gone was the ritualistic process of having to find out what the local screenings were in advance; along with the potential of a film being ruined by a bunch of annoying twats sat in the auditorium. Video brought convenience to the masses. The ability to pause and rewind a specific scene gave us the ability to analyse with more scrutiny. It also opened a proverbial pandora's box. Mature content, bereft of a video classification, became more accessible to minors with lax parents; including theatrically rejected titles finding a new lease of life on video cassette. It would lead to the infamous Video Nasty hysteria. More importantly, it would usher in a new generation of extreme horror aficionados as well as a general desensitisation as whole in how society sees violence. This is the main backbone to Alejandro Amenábar debut thriller Tesis (AKA Thesis, 1996).

Ángela Márquez (Ana Torrent), a student at the Complutense University of Madrid, is researching the effects of audiovisual violence upon society for her thesis. She's introduced in Amenábar's film onboard a stationary train. Along with her fellow passengers, she's made to alight from the transport, as a person had thrown themselves in front of the tracks. With morbid curiosity, she scrambles to get a peak at the gory mess. An official guides her away from the gruesome sight. Ángela's ghoulish interest is also evident when she asks her tutor, Professor Figueroa (Miguel Picazo), to lend her some dodgy tapes from the university's video archives; for research purposes, of course. This begs the question: what kind of reputable educational establishment would have morally reprehensible content on its shelves? Ángela also enlists the help of weirdo student Chema (Fele Martinez), a loner known for having an appetite for extreme horror and pornographic films. 

The mystery unfolds once Ángela's professor stumbles upon a mysterious iron door in the archives and discovers a room with video tapes. Figueroa comes to an unfortunate end, when Ángela finds him dead in the screening room; apparently while watching the tape he retrieved from the archives. Whether or not foul play was at hand, remains ambiguous. However, given the professor's obese state and constant respiratory wheezing, he could have just as well popped his clogs whilst watching Mary Poppins (1964). Our protagonist grabs the tape and rushes back home, without reporting the professor's death to anyone.

Ángela attempts to watch the tape at home, but is too afraid of whatever horrors she will see. Instead, our protagonist records its sounds onto an audio cassette. Listening on her walkman, the chilling sounds of a girl being tortured are too much for her. Therefore, it's off to Chema's fly-tip of a hovel to get him to watch it and describe what's occurring on-screen while her back is turned. Whist her back is turned and Chema's grisly intrigue, the pair stumble upon the revelation that it's an actual snuff tape. To drive it closer to home, Chema recognises the victim as a former university student who disappeared a couple of years prior. Thus, much like that all too familiar giallo trope, Ángela and Chema become unwitting amateur sleuths in a film laden with curveballs and misdirections to sate fans of Hitchcock style thrillers and Italian gialli.

Apart from its dark plot, heightened tensions and palpable suspense, what really drives Tesis forward is how well written the characters are. Ángela and Chema are like oil and water. At first, our heroine is like a moth to a flame in her morbid curiosity. She can barely watch the horrors which draw her, but she gradually is able to face it once she spends more time with Chema. A similar transformation happens to her sidekick. He becomes much warmer to Ángela, once she realised, much of his obnoxiousness and edge lord behaviour is more or less a personal shield in dealing with the outside world. Ought to add, despite living in absolute filth, Chema is right up there Mark Petrie, Tommy Jarvis and Charley Brewster as great fictional horror aficionados. Chema unashamedly wearing a Cannibal Holocaust (1980) T-shirt to university and adorning posters of Shocker (1989) and Alien 3 (1992) in his grotty bathroom speak volumes to me. A stark contrast to Ángela's solitary film poster in her bedroom of My Own Private Idaho (1991). Which has me cheering for him to not to die, solve the mystery and get the girl, even if he does give off school shooter vibes.

 

Bad boy Bosco Herranz (Eduardo Noriega) enters the fray as another integral character in the film. He's spotted by Ángela operating the same model video camera linked with the recording of the snuff film. Equally damning, is his association with the victim from the tape. Looking like Spain's answer to Paul Walker (Pablo Caminante, if you will), Bozco has Ángela both swooning and terrified of him. A key sequence reveals Ángela's mental being, as she dreams of having sex with Bozco, before he stabs her. Worth mentioning, both Ángela's mother and sister are smitten when Bozco charms his way into their house. The complete chad to Chema's virgin. 

Despite the few instances which defy logic (the secret area behind the metallic door in the university's video archives, being the obvious one), a night club playing the most atrocious euro techno music, and being around fifteen minutes too long, there's a lot I like about Alejandro Amenábar's thriller. Abundant plot twists and a number of red herrings, make it constantly engaging. It's all the more impressive once you realise this is incredibly low budget, written and helmed by a twenty three year old film graduate shooting at his university, and more importantly, more enjoyable than Mute Witness (1995) and 8mm (1999), two other Hitchcockian style thrillers from around that era, also themed around snuff films.

Tesis swept up all the major Goya awards (Spain's answer to the Oscars) in 1997. Alejandro Amenábar would follow-up its success with his science fiction drama Open Your Eyes (1997). He would cast both Martinez and Noriega again, alongside the gorgeous Penelope Cruz. It would get the American remake treatment, retitled to Vanilla Sky (2001) and starring action movie midget Tom Cruise. The remake would also feature Penelope Cruz reprising her role. Amenábar would also deliver The Others (2001), a fantastic supernatural chiller with Cruise's other half at the time, Nicole Kidman. No idea what Amenábar is churning out today, but I can confidently claim, he came out of the gate running with his impressive talent as both a writer and director. Tesis is superb mystery thriller.

Here's a currently working YouTube link of Tesis. Not sure how long it will remain, though,

Gesundheit!

The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (Joseph Sargent, 1974)

Always found films more educational than the what was taught to me at school. John Sargent's cult classic crime thriller The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (1974), managed to teach me more about geography, history and sociology via the warm and comforting glow my parent's TV screen rather than any grotty school classroom. The film perfectly encapsulated my favourite era in American cinema, along with what's arguably its most photogenic city — New York City of the 1970s. The Taking of Pelham One Two Three would lovingly depict New Yorkers as direct, opinionated and completely sarcastic. These traits would perfectly compliment the the gritty, run down backdrops of the city at that time. Thus, to an outsider like myself, the urban grime of the Big Apple and its inhabitants, would come across as both extreme and fascinating to a young'un. Therefore, it's even more magical when a film like The Taking of Pelham One Two Three achieves a tensely kinetic crime caper, whilst simultaneously satirising and glorifying the fine city's inhabitants.

Adapted from John Godey's (a pseudonym of the author Morgan Freedgood) 1973 novel, The Taking of Pelham One Two Three revolves around the hijacking of a NYC subway train by four armed men wearing disguises. Using colour themed aliases that Quentin Tarantino would obviously be inspired by in Reservoir Dogs (1992), Mr. Blue (Robert Shaw), Mr. Green (Martin Balsam), Mr. Brown (Earl Hindman) and Mr. Grey (Hector Elizondo), take control of the Pelham 1-2-3 train, including its seventeen passengers and conductor as their hostages. Their demand is a one million dollar ransom within the hour, otherwise a hostage will be executed after every late minute. Thus, the respective authorities have little time to react, resolve and end this alarming situation.

Perhaps the most novel aspect about the film is its unlikely protagonist. We're introduced to New York City Transit Police Lieutenant Zachary Garber (Walter Matthau) sleeping on the job. He's immediately woken up from his slumber and tasked with being the tour guide for a group of Japanese transit envoys. It's not long until he's put through the ringer as the hostage negotiator. The casting in The Taking of Pelham One Two Three might be one of the most perfect selections to represent the grime-ridden and stagnant state of '70s NYC; practically everyone in it looks middle-aged, out of shape, poorly dressed and absolutely miserable, with the craggy Matthau being the pièce de résistance. His world-weary and sullen mug is complimented with one of the most horrendous fashion choices to grace a man, donning an awful chequered shirt and a bright yellow kipper tie beneath a school teacher blazer. And yet, he manages to shine as the negotiator during the hijacking, whilst also liaising with the police authorities and his cynical colleagues, all in a horrendously vomit coloured command centre. For much of the film, Matthau is stationed in one single location, and yet, his performance is so kinetic that it lends incredibly to all the film's fast and tense pacing.

Cutting through this vivid depiction of New York City and its cynical populace is our main antagonist, Robert Shaw's Mr. Blue. Shaw plays the part with his natural English accent, which makes him an obvious standout in the film. Mr. Blue is a complete professional. We learn he comes from a military background and was once a mercenary. A ruthless perfectionist, who has no qualms over shooting any of his hostages. However, there is a human side to this character which provides plenty of depth to him. His rapport with Martin Balsam's Mr. Green is friendly and warm; the complete opposite when dealing with Hector Elizondo's irksome hothead Mr. Grey. His intercom conversations with Garber are what really make the film shine. They're what make tensions even more palpable and occasionally leading to some cathartic jokes which lighten the mood.

Garber's intercom conversations with Mr. Blue will ultimately be the undoing of Balsam's Mr. Green, as he's riddled with a cold and very often sneezing in the background. Garber's "Gesundheit!" being the film's last word when he's eventually banged to rights.

Peter Stone's screenplay is razor sharp in its satire. The ludicrous audacity of a subway train being taken hostage is greeted with complete disbelief from all the authorities. Correll (Dick O'Neill), a transit supervisor and a complete thorn at Garber's side during the hostage negotiations, hilariously exclaims, "Screw the God damn passengers! What the hell did they expect for their lousy thirty-five cents; to live forever?"effectively summing up much of the film's cynical tone. An underrated highlight is the political exchange between the flu-ridden mayor and his deputy whilst they're debating over paying the ransom:

Deputy Mayor Warren LaSalle: You know what they're going to say. The Times is going to support you. The News is going to knock you. The Post will take both sides at the same time. The rich will support you, likewise the blacks, and the Puerto Ricans won't give a shit. So come on, Al, quit stalling!
Mayor: Will you stop bullying everybody, Warren? This is supposed to be a democracy!
Deputy Mayor Warren LaSalle: Wise up, for Christ's sake, we're trying to run a city, not a God damn democracy! Al, quit farting around; we've got to pay! 

The humour isn't just restricted to satire and cynicism, either. One of the hostages, a drunk woman, simply credited as 'The Drunk' completely sleeps throughout her entire ordeal. Mr. Blue declaring she'd be less of a bother while passed out. Amongst the other hostages is an undercover cop dressed as a hippie. His identity is not revealed until a gunfire shoot out whilst the criminals prepare to get away. Garber coming to the injured cop's aid with the hilarious, "We'll have an ambulance here in no time, miss. Everything's gonna be okay!". 

The final major highlight is unreservedly David Shire's bombastic score for The Taking of Pelham One Two Three. If ever a theme perfectly encompassed the urban grittiness of '70s New York City, it's his bone shaking drums and guttural horns which appear throughout as the leitmotif for the film's score. Ironically, the soundtrack was recorded in Los Angeles, I recently discovered in a bonus feature from the film's 4K UHD release. Other noteworthy tracks are the sample worthy Mini-Manhunt and the uptempo Money Montage which both vividly compliment key scenes from the film.

David Shire | Main Title

The Taking of Pelham One Two Three | Soundtrack | 1974 

Yet to see Joseph Sargent's 1983 horror anthology, Nightmares (how many horror flicks out there with that same title?), but The Taking of Pelham One Two Three is objectively better than the other three movies of his that I have seen; namely the sci-fi thriller The Forbin Project (1971), the biopic MacArthur (1977) and the dreadful Jaws: The Revenge (1987). In terms of New York's finest, it's right up there with the likes of Death Wish (1974) and Taxi Driver (1976) with its beautifully ugly aesthetic of a bygone era. More impotantly, The Taking of Pelham One Two Three truly represents NYC's multiethnic melting pot by unifying everyone in their cynicism and nihilism in having to live in such a broken and dilapidated city. As such, it's why the comedy works so perfectly in the midsts of being confined to a crime caper. It's also why a sour-faced Walter Mattheau thrives as the unlikely protagonist, and it's why I find myself rooting for Mr. Green as an underdog getting back at the system.

The film spawned two remakes: one a 1998 TV movie; the other, Tony Scott's 2009 film starring Denzel Washington and John Travolta. Sargent's original is unquestionably far superior than those films. Furthermore, it's one of cinema's greatest heist movies.

Bright Young Things

Captain Jean-Luc Picard's popular quote, "All you need to make a movie is a girl and a gun." proved accurate for hipster film maker and Criterion darling Harmony Korine. He gave us Vanessa Hudgens and Ashley Benson committing armed robberies all over Miami in their bikinis in Spring Breakers (2012), the only Harmony Korine film I've ever watched more than once.

Fast forward to today, and a sequel is in the works. Sure, that's no surprise in these money-grubbing and cynical times, but more optimistically, it heralds the long awaited return of Matthew Bright, the writer and director responsible for the highly enjoyable Freeway films, along with the unexpectedly entertaining Ted Bundy (2002). 

Bright quit films shortly after he was fired from his movie Tiptoes (2002), that starred the British actor Gary Oldman playing a dwarf. According to a web interview which might be as old as GeoCities, Bright went to live somewhere exotic and paint pictures; much like Tom Baker in The Vault of Horror (1973).

Spring Breakers 2 could be a potentially worthy sequel, given the original film had some obvious elements with Bright's Freeway movies. Therefore, it's definitely a film to keep a look out for whenever it eventually does get released.

Leave it to the Daily Mail to get Harmony Korine mixed up with Matthew Bright, along with crediting Reese Witherspoon in the wrong Freeway movie. A bit like your host intentionally getting French New Wave directors jumbled up with Star Trek characters. 

Doctor Do Little

Given my recent review of the first Doctor Who film, it's only right I inflict some of my thoughts on this blog for the current season of the show, which ended over the weekend. With the exception of an upcoming spin-off, the chances of the series returning anytime soon doesn't look too promising. Therefore, I've indulged in a personal rundown on the recent season of the show and the short tenure of its Fifteenth Doctor, as played by Ncuti Gatwa:

The Robot Revolution

AKA, 'Planet of the Incels'. Kicking off the season premiere with a prologue which introduces the Doctor's new companion, Belinda Chandra (Varada Sethu). A certificate naming a distant planet after Belinda is given to her by her controlling boyfriend, Alan. Years later, she's  abducted by giant robots and taken to that very same planet, Missbelindachandra. When the villain is revealed to be Belinda's ex, 'The Robot Revolution' serves as a topical warning over A.I. and the abusers who wield it. Al is reduced to a microscopic embryo in the final act, and effectively killed by the comical cleaning roomba which sweeps him up. Bizarrely, the Doctor celebrates Al's demise with a joyful high kick. The season premiere also begins the mystery as to why the Doctor can't return Belinda back to Earth on 24th of May.

'The Robot Revolution' is a fairly so-so episode, but a notable improvement over the previous season's woeful opener, 'Space Babies'. Varada Sethu playing the reluctant companion is reminiscent of Tegan Jankova from the classic era of the series. Which makes her at the very least an interesting character, initially. The retro look of the robots and the rocket ship give off vintage sci-fi aesthetic, but the rest of the production resembles an MCU film. As a result, it all looks a and feels like a cartoon. Rating: 4/10 

Lux 

Speaking of cartoons, here's a literal one and another instance of Russell T Davies's driving obsession with god entities, AKA, the Pantheon of Discord, from the previous series. 'Lux' is the God of Light possessing Mr. Ring-a-ding, a Max Fleischer style cartoon character come to life in a Fifties cinema, somewhere in Miami. A device known as the vindicator is this series' macguffin in helping Belinda get back home. Obviously, it doesn't work too well as they come here instead.

As tedious as all this Pantheon of Discord is, this might be a rare instance where it isn't so irksome. The whole meta concept of the Doctor and Belinda being trapped in a celluloid film is at the least, a novel situation for the time lord. What's more, the episode's antagonist becomes more terrifying as he evolves into being three-dimensional, so there are elements of horror there, too. Sadly, RTD's writing lets this episode down as both the Doctor and Belinda aren't the ones who save the day. It's Linus Roache's cinema projectionist that does, robbing our main characters' sense of urgency; resulting in an underwhelming ending, where the villain expands into nothing in space.

There's some unintentional comedy once the Doctor and Belinda meet a sad looking bunch of Doctor Who fans. Is this how RTD envisions Doctor Who fans to look and behave? Nevertheless, it leads into some eye-rolling meta commentary regarding the actual show; including an obvious dig at the show's haters with its addressing of  #RIPDoctorWho. Rating: 5/10 

The Well

Set on a mysterious planet, half a million years in the future, 'The Well' is the most traditional sci-fi episode, harkening back to RTD's first tenure as show-runner on the series. More accurately, 'The Well' is a sequel to a beloved episode of his 'Midnight'.

Disabled cook, Aliss Fenly (Rose Aylling-Ellis), is the sole survivor of a mining colony slaughter. She is discovered by the Doctor, Belinda and a squad of Marines investigating the mining base. It's not long before the kills start happening again.

Easily, a return to vintage Nu-Who, and that's largely because it carries that dark, sci-fi horror atmosphere which was once synonymous back in the day. That's all thrown away once the Doctor boosts into bombastic action to resolve the situation and Murray Gold's upbeat score; completely changing the sci-fi horror element which initially made it so engrossing. Yet again, it's a secondary character who saves the day (or maybe not) with her sacrifice helping the Doctor and Belinda to escape from the mining world.

Nevertheless, the episode does manage to end on a positive note, thanks to its twist ending and the possible suggestion of another future story involving the Midnight entity. The highlight of the season, in my opinion. Rating: 6/10 

Lucky Day

We catch up with the Fifteenth Doctor's first companion, Ruby Sunday (Millie Gibson, no relation to Mel), AKA the show's very own Rey Skywalker as revealed by RTD. She's found true love with popular podcaster, Conrad Clark (Jonah Hauer-King). 

Sadly, it turns out Conrad is a slime ball, and has been exploiting Ruby to fulfil his own personal agenda in exposing U.N.I.T (Unified Intelligence Taskforce - should be U.I.T., innit?).

'Lucky Day' serves as the show's critique on the rising influence of fake news and the increasing popularity of alternative media; as opposed to traditional fake news, I suppose. It's a Doctor Who-lite episode, yet the Doctor does manage to turn up near the end. His words, an obvious extension of RTD, via his disciple, this episode's scriptwriter Peter McTighe, and their critique on populism and the alternative media.

"You have to be invited into my TARDIS, Conrad. To be special. But you? You're special... for all the wrong reasons. You see, I am fighting a battle on behalf of everyday people... who just want to get through their day, and feel safe, and warm, and fed. And then along comes this... noise. All day long, this relentless noise. Cowards like you, weaponising lies, taking people's insecurity and fear and making it currency. You are exhausting. You stamp on the truth, choke our bandwidth and shred our patience. Because the only strategy you have is to wear us down. But the thing is, Conrad, I have energy to burn and all the time in the universe."—The Doctor

This is an episode where the plot holes become more apparent the more you think about it, e.g. Conrad knowing about the Doctor, yet still determined to expose UNIT as scaremongers and deceivers. Still, despite the flaws, 'Lucky Day' is one of the highlights of the series, thanks to Millie Gibson's performance  and being able to carry an episode on her own (like last season's '73 Yards'). There's also Conrad's smug retort to the Doctor, "I don't respect your reality, Doctor. I reject it. So put me back in my prison and get off my world." which I found surprisingly based for a villain who's been told by the Doctor he'd be kicking the bucket at the age of forty-nine in a prison cell. Rating: 5/10 

The Story and the Engine

While setting another course point for the vindicator in Lagos, Nigeria in the year 2019 (why that particular year, it's never explained), the Doctor decides to get a haircut. It's also where he feels ethnically comfortable in his current incarnation. Our protagonist finds himself trapped with the fellow patrons inside the barbershop. This particular barber shop happens to be riding on the back of a giant spider travelling through space and fuelled by the telling of folk tales and stories. 

It's Doctor Who meets Desmonds (1989-1994) in yet another episode which is more fantasy and magic  than science fiction. Which makes this one of the less appealing episodes of the series, personally. 

The potential of giving a folk horror story a sci-fi spin, a la the amazing Third Doctor serial, 'The Dæmons', is completely squandered here, making this an underwhelming and largely boring watch. What's more, the villain of the episode, who is determined to sacrifice the universe to kill the Pantheon of Discord, is treated with more sympathy than some of the other rotten eggs featured in this series. Which makes Gatwa's Doctor such an inconsistent character and difficult to get a grasp of.

Written by playwright Inua Ellams, responsible for creating a theatrical production called Barber Shop Chronicles, which also shares the theme of various barber shop patrons telling their stories, this is effectively an adaptation of it shoved into Doctor Who (no pun intended). It might have worked given a bit more development, but the sci-fi element is largely missing here, despite having a giant spider in space. As a result, I was bored and mentally checked out around twenty minute mark. Rating 3/10 

The Interstellar Song Contest

The Doctor is still struggling to return Belinda back home, but they've wondered hundreds of years in the future on a space station hosting the annual Interstellar Song Contest broadcast across the galaxies.

A play on the kitsch value of the current Eurovision Song Contest, that's nothing but a blatant vote rigging tournament where various countries vote for their bordering neighbours. Vapid brainlets are equally performative in their cultural politics as their rancid stage number.

Fortunately, beneath the camp and excess, there's a half decent plot here, where a terrorist threatens the lives of trillions as revenge for his home planet being pillaged and destroyed for its honey. Obviously, comparisons to current events in the world are intentional, but at the very least Kid (Freddie Fox), the horned antagonist of the episode, has a bit more depth to him in comparison to some of the other recurring characters on the show; including the Fifteenth Doctor. 

Plot conveniences, like a couple who happen to be the very people able to resuscitate the Doctor after he experiences flying in the freezing vacuum of space with a confetti cannon, and who are also able to pluck the thousands of audience attendees in zero gravity in next to no time while Bucks Fizz plays in the background, robs the episode of the horrendous atrocity committed by Kid. However, the Doctor torturing our villain is an unexpected turn; one that's genuinely interesting, as it conjures the possibility of the Valeyard, the dark future incarnation of the Doctor, potentially making an appearance (he doesn't). The Doctor is stopped from causing further pain to the terrorist after a vision of his grand daughter Susan Foreman (Carol Anne Ford) begs him to stop. Can't wait to see her again! The vindicator finally has the necessary information to get Belinda back home, but once they arrive in the TARDIS, the ship's doors are detroyed. Can't wait for a viable explanation!

The prolonged mystery box that is Mrs. Flood (Anita Dobson) is finally revealed as the Rani (like we predictably suspected); hilariously in a mid-credits scene. It's followed by the mythical bi-generation occurring for a second time in two years and introducing a more dominant Rani (Archie Panjabi). Can't wait to see her in action. Rating 5/10 

Wish World

This is it, the penultimate episode of the series. The pawns are all in place and the game is set. Not before we see the Rani galloping to some nineteenth century shack in Bavaria and abducting some newborn baby able to grant wishes from his family. More magic!

Thus, the newborn, Conrad and the Ranis are the Unholy Trinity. They've created an Orwellian world, where an obedient and traditionalist society dwells  beneath their floating bone palace.

The Doctor and Belinda are a married couple and they even have a young daughter called Poppy. Ruby is unaffected by this new reality and attempts to convince the Doctor all is not right in this world. She manages to sow the seeds of doubt which tend to result in cups falling through tables in this world. The fact that giant bone dinosaurs walk around London like AT-AT walkers ought to have been convincing on their own, don't you think?

This really ought to have been called 'Wishy Washy World' as it's a poorly written episode that really goes nowhere for much of its run time. The scenes where the Ranis are on screen are the rare positives about this penultimate episode. Having one of the Rani's providing a giant exposition dump and telling the viewer that it isn't exposition, isn't going to convince anyone.

To highlight how underwhelming this episode is, last season's penultimate episode, 'The Legend of Ruby Sunday' had at the very least revealed the return of the powerful villain Sutekh from 'Pyramids of Mars'; albeit as a giant CGI dog that looked like Roland Rat on crack, who'd been squatting on top of the TARDIS. Nevertheless, it was an incredible cliffhanger which left me genuinely excited for the finale. This time, the writing was horrid. So many elements and questions which needed answering, and yet nothing resolved for this episode; in fact more questions like the revelation of Poppy being the Doctor's daughter were introduced. Rating 2/10 

The Reality War 

It's the big one! Will RTD answer those all important questions and mystery boxes he introduced in the show since his return? Will he explain the bi-generations. Will the Doctor find Susan? How come Poppy is the Doctor's daughter? How will the Doctor defeat the two Ranis? Will Rogue be rescued from the Hell dimension? Will we get an explanation for all those immersion breaking fourth wall breaks? Will Russell answer all of these important questions in a little over sixty minutes? Short answer: He doesn't.

Made the rookie mistake of watching last season's finale, 'Empire of Death' completely sober. Thus, it wasn't even drunkenly hilarious seeing Sutekh being dragged on a leash in the vortex. On this occasion, I'd already downed a few glasses of Jamieson's before The Hit List had even ended. 

Overall, this was a dreadful finale. Perhaps the biggest gaffe, was how the antagonists were dispatched so swiftly during this complete dross. Archie Panjabi's Rani being eaten by Omega was a huge anticlimax; even worse, is Omega conveniently being sent back to his dimension after only two minutes of actual screen time. An even worse fate is Conrad Clark working as a kitchen cleaner in South London restaurant. Much of the episode being boringly spent on Poppy, who effectively proved to be an anticlimactic non-entity, (just like Ruby Sunday revealed as an ordinary human being in the prior season finale, despite possessing the power to make it snow) forced the episode to tick by at a crawling pace. Why invest so much time towards such a fundamentally disappointing subplot?

The one potentially redeeming moment in this diversionary subplot, is when Belinda and Poppy are isolated inside the hastily constructed Zero Room. Naively thought this was Russell ingeniously leading up to the discovery of the Timeless Child being found by Tectuen, from Chris Chibnall's controversial episode. Turned out it wasn't, along with Belinda being robbed of any further development and essentially being written out as another forgettable companion.

As well as the alcohol, the advanced knowledge regarding the outlandish, online rumours of the Thirteenth Doctor's brief cameo and the Doctor regenerating into Billie Piper, cushioned the crushing cringe for me. Although, I didn't instantly recognise Piper's face at first with all that filler and botox used on her face. Both of these scenes screamed of reshoots, and cemented the rumours of Ncuti Gatwa's abrupt departure from the series.

In conclusion: This was an abysmal mess and a terrible finale; one that any self respecting exec over at the BBC would want to call an emergency board meeting. Time to give it a rest while some new blood and fresh talent can be found. A better prospect than having to endure Russel T. Davies squatting over a cult series and defecating all over its legacy for another season. Rating 1/10 

Won't pretend I enjoyed Gatwa's portrayal of the Doctor. He was far closer to playing Mindbender Futurama than an ancient Time Lord from the distant world of Gallifrey. He hardly got to do anything during his short stint in the role; other than be vain, smug and cry on cue. More critically, he lacked the convictions in his performances as the Doctor. Hence, he came across as rather shallow. There were rare moments, where he showed some potential, but it was always offset with him being just loud, annoying and superficial. What we got was Ncuti Gatwa being Ncuti Gatwa. That's not to say he was completely to blame, however. If anything, much like Jodie Whittaker, he was horribly miscast for the lead. A stunt cast; like every other actor who has followed Peter Capaldi's Twelfth Doctor.

The real blame is undoubtedly, Russel T. Davies. The same man who breathed new life into the property in 2005, has suffocated it with an unchecked ego, soap operatic writing and revisionist retcons. The focus on grand spectacle, mystery boxes, and nostalgia bait rather than cohesive plot lines, satisfying character arcs and a sense of responsibility towards this beloved property, have been catastrophic. This was a show that desperately needed rescuing after Chris Chibnall's incompetence as its previous show runner. If anything, RTD doubled and tripled down, which resulted in the show's even further decline in quality; reflected in a massive drop in viewers.

Hopefully, a lesson might have been learnt from all this. Who knows?