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How many fucking times do I have watch Tom Cruise spin around and pull his gun out in a long, black coat and shades like he's white Blade?

IMF agent Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) must foil a dastardly plot to release a deadly virus in Sydney by former comrade Sean Ambrose (Dougray Scott) who plans to make millions on distributing a vaccine.

As a 12 year old I can just about how hugely this film was hyped up and marketed prior to release. The buzz was electrifying but the results were underwhelming to say the least. I myself couldn't see it in a cinema because I was too young. It was a 15 here in the UK but the first was a PG. There isn't so much as a blood squib in this film but it jumps up the age certificate not once but twice so the script can allow for lines like "are you gonna spank me?", "I am gagging for it" and "This is what's known as getting your gun off" and so Thandiwe Newton can wear skimpy outfits. As you can tell it still pisses me off...not Thandiwe Newton, the age thing.

Woo's overtly cartoonish style just does not work for Mission: Impossible II, it does for fun films like Hard duo Boiled and Target but it's astonishingly different in practically every aspect from the first film. Hunt is now a superhuman martial artist who can shoot people mid somersault, can climb rock faces with no gear and is a piss poor employee. Ving Rhames returns to help me put up with this action light sequel that's quite literally devoid of any excitement for almost a damn hour. Seriously, the most action we see before the third act is a horse race.

The film's villain is such a jealous bitch over his ex throughout the entire film it was genuinely difficult to acknowledge him as the mastermind of such a convoluted plan. Instead I'm forced to accept sinister close ups, constant scowls and exposition dumps in lieu of intrigue and character development. Christ, what would have happened to Dougray Scott's career if chose to play Wolverine in X-Men over this? I bet he's kicking himself into a bloody pulp a quarter of a century later. Brendan Gleeson, Richard Roxburgh and John Polson provide decent but if I had to be brutally honest it's the two minute cameo from Anthony Hopkins that steals the entire show, he commands attention and submission to his craft. The movie suffers as a result of his minimal screentime.

Woo ups the madness with a string of ridiculously over the top moments including Hunt's orders which are encoded within a pair of sunglasses that are delivered to him via rocket launcher, a daft as hell beach fight that's just laughably dumb and Tom Cruise's face being ed around like a t. The entire first act is just Cruise and Newton flirting endlessly, often in slow motion and during a reckless car chase before finally ending my misery by banging. It has its moments, sure but it's just too little too late come the ninety minute mark. An infiltration into a hi-tech lab is hands down the most actual espionage you'll see throughout this otherwise bland, flashy sequel. It's shortlived however and makes way for an incoherent shootout before diving headfirst into an utterly ridiculous finale.

If you blow your load on a big, opening scene reveal don't expect me to sit there in surprised awe when you do it for the third time. Cruise often defies physics as he likes to do but how do you kick sand to make a pistol leap into the air almost perfectly vertically? This kind of nonsense is prevalent in M:I 2 and each time it feels like Woo is trying to illicit incredulous gasps from the audience. I myself just sighed for the most part.

Australia looks great, well, Sydney does with gratuitous shots of the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House smacking you in the face every ten minutes. The setting may be a nod the late 80s series which was primarily set in Sydney. Hans Zimmer takes over scoring duties from Danny Elfman and if I have to be brutally honest it's one of his weakest, at least until the third act where he shows some of that real shit. The score is actually a big let down for me as it further adds to the film's identity crisis for the first two thirds. This doesn't feel like a worthy sequel to a truly excellent spy caper but rather an excuse to make everything way cooler for a cool generation. Piss off. It just doesn't work.

I am thankful however for Limp Bizkit's absolute banger 'Take a Look Around'...sooo...there's that.

It may have its moments like a decent motorcycle pursuit through Sydney but ultimately this is a boring and drawn out affair bereft of action until it's too late to care and excitement that relies totally on style rather than any substance. This was such a great opportunity for something special but alas, they blew it. Only Robocop 2 disappoints me more as a bad followup to a superb original. They know what kinds of films they are, this doesn't. It feels like it's influenced by cultural phenoms Blade and The Matrix.

This movie thinks it's cool as shit and it really isnt. People give Zack Snyder a lot of crap for his relentless slow motion but director John Woo absolutely abuses the hell out of it here for two hours, as he likes to do.

"Hunt will prefer to enter Biocyte somewhere from the top, where security is minimal. He'll undoubtedly engage in some aerobatic insanity before he'll risk harming a hair on a security guard's head."

Dougray Scott casually predicting Tom Cruise's career path for the next twenty-five years.

I'm nostalgic as shit for the first film. I just never get bored of it...fuck it, five stars.

Mission: Impossible was the first Tom Cruise film I ever saw way back as a ten year old, burgeoning movie nerd and I loved it so much I cried when my dad snipped the tape with scissors because I was being a titanic prick. In retrospect I deserved a lot worse.

When a catastrophic mission in Prague is revealed to be an IMF mole hunt, American agent Ethan Hunt (a terrific Tom Cruise) must expose the real traitor as a disavowed, rogue operative when he becomes the prime suspect.

Adapted from the popular television series from the 60s and 70s and its subsequent, short lived reboot from the late 80s, Mission: Impossible lives up to its source material as a thrilling and captivating espionage caper. Cruise is outstanding as Ethan Hunt and kicks off his beloved franchise with a taut, exciting debut adventure fraught with memorable moments still referenced to this day. The first film had such a cultural impact in the mid 90s adding to the freshly rejuvenated genre along with GoldenEye and Executive Decision. Brian de Palma, director of greats such as Carrie, Scarface and The Untouchables adds his unique flair for slick entertainment to Mission: Impossible. What it may lack in bombastic action it makes up for in well thought out set pieces from the film's opening fubar operation to a now infamous Langley heist. Danny Elfman's fantastic score serves as a perfect backdrop to the classic theme that just still absolutely slaps.

Mission: Impossible has a stacked cast outside of Cruise including Jon Voight as IMF top dog Jim Phelps, Ving Rhames as Luther Stickle, the legendary Jean Reno as loose cannon Krieger and Vanessa Redgrave as posh arms dealer Max, all of whom leave their mark with complex arcs and charismatic presence. Cruise is not only constantly tasked with saving the day but also confirming who he can trust. There are double crosses, twists, turns and revelations that are hard to detect upon first watch but are cleverly alluded to with subtle clues when rewatched.

What works for the movie ultimately is its fantastic story that truly feels like an appropriate plot for a Mission: Impossible feature film. Hunt is pursued by his own agency relentlessly, always one step behind him, who himself is always one step behind the very real traitor who themselves were fooled by IMF's subtle agenda. It's a clever game of chess between three parties, all strategically trying to overcome their opponents with foresight and manipulation.

The third act is where Mission: Impossible really threatens to be the true rival to Bond with a phenomenal helicopter chase through the Channel Tunnel, an underground train line connecting England to that not only utilises some great stuntwork but also some great mid 90s CGI and even a splash of levity or two not to mention a rather gruesome PG villain death. At one moment when Cruise leaps onto the helicopter it sounded like it was the Back to the Future theme before Lalo Schrifin's infamous score kicks in. I sorely miss the PG movies of the late 90s and before. This movie is one of the last mainstream PG movies to feature more than one instance of bloody violence from a nasty gut shot to a pretty savage stabbing in a foggy Prague alley. It may sound weird but, I genuinely miss PG movies unafraid to push the boat out a bit with its tones.

Despite this, this remains a great family friendly spy thriller brimming with panache and intricate storytelling that still entertains as much as it did nearly thirty years ago. It takes a leaf out of 007's book with some cool gadgets that set the film apart from others at the time from explosive gum, camera specs and most famously the awesome face masks synonymous with the series. The special effects still look fantastic to this day when the masks are ripped off with dramatic gusto.

Mission: Impossible fucking rules. A childhood favourite that still packs a punch and delivers the goods. This is genuinely one of Cruise's best.

"RED LIGHT! GREEN LIGHT!"

After seven consecutive Arnold Schwarzenegger films going into The Ballad of Buster Scruggs completely blind was certainly an experience. A pleasant one if I'm being unclear. I mean if you can survive Arnie's head inflating like a balloon in Total Recall then watching Liam Neeson's awkward smile before he may or may not throw Harry Potter's dick cousin who has no arms or legs into a ravine is nothing.

The Coen brothers return to America's post-civil war western frontier with six tales of death, greed, luck, bravado, longing and judgment that emphasise the cold, hard truth of civilised life in an unforgiving land. A singing gunslinger, an unprepared bank robber, a travelling impresario, a wiley, old prospector, a young woman travelling to Oregon via escort and a stagecoach laden with exuberant personalities all tell very different stories bonded by one unifying element, death.

I had a lot of fun with this. The tales are a mix of upbeat and harrowing, comedic and endearing and it's those different tones that divide each of them but it's the familiar sting, comfort, joy and even the morally questionable necessity of death that links the stories. Each segment delves into various popularised shenanigans of the era from the swagger of the classic gunslinger drunk on his own success to an aging prospector who's obsessive search for gold has sent him nigh on mad. The harsh reality of navigating a hostile environment fraught with danger gently rumbles without incident, heading for an eventual, metaphorical sunset but is upended with an almost Shakespearian tragedy. The Coens' unique talent for storytelling is gloriously on display in each narrative even if a couple may feel as of they drag on a little.

Superbly shot, the movie delights in portraying gorgeous, unsullied landscapes that really sing. The American Midwest is a truly beautiful stretch of country that cinematographers rightfully jizz their collective pants over when making films of this ilk that require location shooting. Yes, there's obvious green screen here and there but the unmatched beauty and harshness of Nebraska, Colorado and New Mexico light up the screen when shown off.

There's an undeniable truth that's difficult to embrace in a tale involving a disabled thespian that sees a person's purpose and usefulness thrown away like a jug of piss in favour of a chicken who can do mathematics. It leaves a sour taste after a couple of segments that are ultimately played for laughs that hammer home the power of profit with the intensity of a gut punch. A charismatic prospector's hard work is almost undone but for his almost superhuman desire effectively birthed as a result of the madness that very same desire has caused. It ends triumphantly only to be followed by a viscerally real tale of burgeoning hope and love during an arduous, cross country wagon trail that injects a dose of sadness into the film.

From a singing Tim Blake Nelson as the titular Scruggs killing Mr Krabbs with a table before shooting a man's digits off to a dialogue heavy tale of a stagecoach full of travelling strangers that slowly unveils a few surprises that elevate the importance of not judging books by their covers. It's hard to leave the film without an overwhelming feeling of satisfaction and fulfillment in the wake of magnetic storytelling. Throw in a mental segment with the now cancelled James Franco who's both the luckiest and unluckiest bank robber ever who goes up against the most prepared bank teller in history and you have a truly unique anthological picture.

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs is often funny, often thrilling and often gripping but always beautiful and performed superbly by everyone involved throughout. Another win for Joel and Ethan Coen.

"PAN SHOT!"

Arnold Schwarzenegger is probably only the second Austrian to through Colombia in 60 years.

When his wife and young son are killed in a Los Angeles terror attack, firefighter Gordy Brewer (Arnold Schwarzenegger) decides to track down notorious guerilla terrorist, El Lobo (a solid Cliff Curtis) in Colombia when government agency involvement hits a dead end.

This marks the end to the first period of my Arniessance. Collateral Damage is a able revenge thriller that's light on excitement and intrigue that yet again sees Arnold Schwarzenegger play a happy, well-to-do family man who never has more than one kid in a film. It's such a familiar setup for these kinds of films in general let alone 60% of Arnie flicks, we get it you're the good guy. Here though, as familiar as the character development is for Schwarzennger this might be his lowest body count by far in his action/thriller portfolio. He only dispatches the film's primary villains who despite being portrayed well are incredibly forgettable, as is this movie. He does however get to Mike Tyson a dude's ear off. Some lazy writing sees him randomly bump into the villain's plot relevant wife who's identity is unbeknownst to him, in the middle of a busy market. You've got more chance of finding Bigfoot than that happening as soon as you enter a busy, South American town.

Produced by the man who directed Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, Collateral Damage can perhaps be seen as somewhat of an indirect homage to the bravery of the NYFD in the immediate aftermath of the 9/11 terrorist attacks (this was released less than 9 months after those events) with its heroic main character fighting against terrorism directly but having the villains be of middle eastern descent may have been too on the nose and it's a huge stretch anyway. The film lacks that overt excitement you'd expect from an Arnie led revenge thriller with only a couple of noteworthy set pieces including a cool helicopter assault on a guerilla compound and a reasonably entertaining attack on a detention centre. Commando this isn't.

John Turturro gets high billing yet appears in one scene as a random Canadian bloke incarcerated with Arnie who has a river that our hero needs. Then wave bye bye to John Turturro. John Leguizamo, everyone's favourite sloth gets similar billing and similar screentime then boom, he's gone too. No character is treated poorer in this film than the character of Brandt, played by the brilliant Elias Koteas who is hyped up as a really important character only to be let down by a poor revelation that kick-starts the ending.

The ending is as stupid as a lot of endings from this era of cinema that sees a Washington terror plot unfold in the dumbest way ever that in the wake of the country's recent trauma just would not happen. The 'twist' is eye roll inducing that relies so massively on blind luck and unfathomable foresight that's figured out by Schwarzenegger only and naturally he decides to take them on himself rather than share that extremely pertinent information with the room full of trained government agents in their own fucking building. From a filmmaking viewpoint I get that our hero needs to hero and he does exactly that and in that Hollywood way you'd expect him to.

There's a few forgettable, throwaway little things I did appreciate from the antagonist forcing a live snake down a subordinate's throat, a Predator reference that sees Arnie return to the jungle where he falls, slides down a slope shot exactly the same and subsequently falls into water below and Leguizamo referring to Arnie as "a German cyborg", an obvious callback to his role as the T-800...crying Arnie is just weird to look at, even more so when it actually looks genuine.

This wasn't anything to write home about in 2002 and still isn't but Collateral Damage has good performances, a decent albeit familiar story and well orchestrated if infrequent action set pieces. It's one of his final lead roles before becoming governor of California and unfortunately falls into obscurity beneath a cache of classics that stand out more and more against his lesser later features.

I swear it's only films where he stars with Danny Devito that doesn't have an explosion in it and he's pregnant in one of them.

- "What's the difference between you and I?"

- "The difference is I'm only trying to kill YOU!"

What's better than one Arnold Schwarzenegger? Two Arnold Schwarzeneggers. What's better than The 6th Day? A lot of Arnold Schwarzenegger movies. This wasn't outright crap but it's so batshit throughout it was hard to give it two stars...which this probably is.

In the not too distant future where human cloning is outlawed, a helicopter pilot (Schwarzenegger) is shocked to discover his doppelganger enjoying a party in his honour with his family and soon gets involved in a nefarious conspiracy that could impact the world.

The 6th Day opens with 'In the near future...sooner than you think' and then proceeds to beat the viewer over the head with an a bunch of shit we don't have a quarter of a century after the film's release like hologram girlfriends and you know...human cloning but actually some stuff we do such as Alexa, self driving cars and VR porn. The film then introduces two CGI helicopters which can be remotely controlled by wearing a gauntlet with a joystick that you can bet your ass you'll see again seeing as it's clearly obvious most of the budget went on them. It's a strange first act that serves as foreshadowing and futuristic imagery rather than laying any groundwork for a narrative. I'm pretty sure an utterly horrifying M3GAN like doll gets more screen time than one of the Arnies.

Eventually the movie picks up a bit of momentum and offers an ounce of entertainment here and there with a strange car chase involving a car from the fifties and...phaser guns and a neat parking lot shootout that sees a foot get blown off. The script is whack and the acting from some of the nobodies suck tremendous ass but the film somehow still manages to fend off what should be an obvious two star rating. There's nothing original on display despite its flashy style. It reeks of the turn of the century from its techno/funk score, anime hairstyles, durags on 30 year snowboarders and Michael Rapaport. The film's primary antagonist, a young Steve Jobs is your typically clichéd corporate villain who's irable cause on the surface disguises the nefarious agenda underneath but subverts my expectations with a truly mental arc resolution that involves a creepy looking, incomplete clone and some great developing clone imagery featuring some great practical effects but you'd expect little else from Alec Gillis and Tom Woodruff Jr. Its an ending I actually dug...quite a lot. The film was already loopy as shit up to this point so turning it up to eleven was something I was behind.

Robert fucking Duvall is in this! I completely forgot about that as a kid and he is hands down the best thing about The 6th Day. He doesn't have great material to work with but being the absolute legend that he is he makes it work effortlessly. Watching Duvall and Schwarzenegger act together on screen is something I'm guessing neither actor could predict in their early careers.

It's thirty minutes too long but there's enough to enjoy here if you remove your brain and flush it down the toilet. The movie even squeezes in one of Arnie's more obscure lines from films past, it has funny automated lawyer and psychiatrist holograms that interrupt the police, those nauseating transitions and blurry fast-cuts everyone loved back then and Michael Rooker leading a band of colourful goons that includes a certain Terry Crews, not to mention a Schwarzenegger movie about clones still manages to have a super explosive ending.

Far from great but not quite bad. Its a hard one to really call outright when you have Robert Duvall saying a tender, heartfelt goodbye to his wife that hits all the right notes and then a sexually charged Arnie one liner moments later. I'll be kind for Duvall, bless him. Something tells me he's never watched this though and I find that kinda funny.

- "Well, well, Adam Gibson."

- "I wish I could say the one and only."

Arnold Schwarzenegger will happily fight other gigantic men in the snow whilst wearing a man-thong and still come out of the other side of it with one of his best performances, name me another action star who can do that?

When his partner is murdered by a Georgian drug lord, Russian policeman Ivan Danko (one of Arnie's best) is sent to Chicago where he's forced to partner with cocky cop Art Ridzik (a Jim Belushi that grows on you) to apprehend and return him to the Soviet Union for execution.

The Warriors and Southern Comfort director and long time Alien producer Walter Hill writes and directs a solid, entertaining police, action thriller that leans heavily into the strained relationship between the US and the Soviet Union in the 1980s and delivers a well written and often funny chalk and cheese arc between a stoic Arnold Schwarzenegger and an overtly sarcastic Belushi. Lawrence Fishbourne provides some fine as a by-the-books-cop with very little patience for Belushi's bullshit. Showing up randomly midway through is Gina Gershon as an aerobics teacher and I can tell you with unwavering conviction that she was a pleasant surprise. She's also superbly written as the conflicted wife of the film's antagonist that slowly brings some deeply buried humanity in Arnie to the surface. The film's villain isn't that memorable or worthy of note other than looking like a Siberian Russell Crowe and being as trustworthy as a four day old kebab.

The opening credits are laughably Soviet themed with backwards letters in every name, an extremely heavy dose of Kremlin porn and a ridiculously stereotypical Russian score from James Horner that transitions to porny funk music as soon as Chicago appears. Red Heat is very much a product of its time with a string of familiar genre clichés and a lighthearted approach to a politically charged narrative.

What works is the undeniably great chemistry between Arnie and Belushi that contributes to more than one funny exchange including a hilarious sidewalk scene that sees Arnie finally understand what Miranda rights are, a bad cop/violent cop interrogation where Danko scares a guy so bad he swears on his own balls and quite literally any scene where the two are in a car. Red Heat has a great script alive with some really sharp wit and some wonderful cinematography of both the cold, wintry, blizzard tormented Kremlin and a rainy, seedy Chicago.

Despite its great performances Red Heat suffers from a sloppy ending that goes for spectacle out of nowhere with a game of chicken involving two of the slowest vehicle allowed on public roads, a bus. It's apeshit for apeshit's sake but in fairness it is actually quite apt for action movies of this ilk not only for the time but for the next twenty years. Other than a weirdly mesmerising, naked giant fight in the snow outside the world's quietest and nakedest gym that opens the film the action comes in form of chaotic, repetitive shootouts that are indistinguishable from the other.

Well written, well acted and well paced Red Heat is a fun, entertaining crime thriller with one of Arnie's finest performances (100% kudos to him for speaking Russian whenever he talks to Russian characters too), a tidy, engaging plot and a great dynamic between the leads. It's a really good, buddy cop movie that has somewhat been buried beneath an avalanche of action blockbusters in Schwarzenegger's portfolio.

I had a good time with this and with its TV remake Due South although why they swapped a bodybuilding Soviet policeman for a Canadian Mounty is beyond me.

- "Tea, please."

- "In a glass with lemon, right?"

- "Yes!"

- "Yeah, I saw Dr. Zhivago."

Is it hot that Maria Conchita Alonso can hide an Uzi in her vagina? I'm not entirely sure but either way she sure implies she did exactly that. I'm leaning towards hot based on her blasé attitude about it.

In a dystopian, future United States a wrongly convicted helicopter pilot (a typically charismatic Arnold Schwarzenegger) is chosen to compete in The Running Man, the number one television show in America that sees convicts relentlessly pursued by trained killers with a penchant for the theatrical.

Personally, I believe The Running Man and Robocop could exist in the same universe. Both take place in bleak, hopeless futures with an overtly 80s aesthetic where the population is manipulated and controlled via corrupt, government controlled news stations and brainwashing ments. Arnie plays the boringly named Ben Richards that again gets immediately introduced as the good guy to further distance himself from his villainous role in The Terminator who is attacked by his entire squad whilst he's flying a fucking helicopter for not massacring a crowd of hungry civilians. From there he's imprisoned and eventually chosen by the douchebag host of the biggest show on earth to participate in a rigged gauntlet of carnage for the entertainment and subconscious submission of the masses. It doesn't lean too heavily on painting a future reliant on technology with the biggest advancement on show being the ability to book your holidays on your TV in two seconds.

Once again an Arnie film from the 80s goes heavy on the one liners and quips but they are certainly more miss than hit in The Running Man and they come so think and fast after every bad guy is dispatched it becomes eye roll worthy pretty quickly. They worked brilliantly in Commando but fall pretty flat here which is unfortunate because the bare bones script seemingly relies on them. He's still great though and showcases his elite frame whenever he can and once he's put into an Adidas manufactured, yellow, spandex jumpsuit he reaches peak Arnie status. He certainly suits that look much more than the terrible Hawaiian shirt and hat he wears earlier in the film. I wouldn't need Conchita Alonso to punish me for it, I'd have punched myself in the nuts before she could.

The show itself is an insane display of eccentric WWE stars crossed with criminally insane psychos who chase contestants throughout a series of hazardous quadrants. They're the highlight of the movie for sure. Dynamo is a cross between Liberace and Raiden who drives around in a Mario Kart, then there's Buzzsaw, a bleach blonde, roided, chainsaw wielding biker who gets his balls split in two. Subzero, a sumo ice hockey player who wields a razor stick and shoots explosive pucks. Fireball, who's basically Don King with a flamethrower and a jet-pack and Captain Freedom played by Jesse 'The Body' Ventura who serves as the shows legendary dimpled stalker.

Predictably, Arnie and co kill their way through the show's roster gradually swaying the studio audience and the betting crowds outside in the process allowing for a rushed ending devoid of any real imagination to burst through out of nowhere. Arnie is literally public eneny number one but suddenly wins over said public and becomes the leader of a bunch of underground freedom fighters that storm the studio and quickly end the movie with unashamed convenience and lazy writing.

Arnie is backed up by decent from Yaphet Kotto, an inmate pal who escaped with him and Maria Conchita Alonso with the latter offering some brilliant comedic exchanges with the Austrian giant that kicks off with him dusturbing her working out in lingerie. However it's the portrayal of the film's clichéd, villainous host Damon Killian from Richard Dawson who actually presented game show Family Feud for years and serves up a well executed mirror image version of himself that steals the show. It's clever casting that pays off with a ridiculously cartoony resolution where things explode because reasons.

This is a cheesy, action packed, sci-fi yarn with sprinklings of satire dusted over it that doesn't take itself too seriously at all and has enough mental entertainment throughout that it's still very easy to revisit every so often. It's not Arnie's best but it's so far from his worst. The Running Man, based on a Stephen King novella relies on its bankable star and very little else other than it's played out depiction of man's lust for gladitorial entertainment in the wake of societal collapse.

Fun, entertaining and well paced but too corny and empty to be considered great. I definitely enjoyed this a lot more as a kid.

- "Me and my big mouth. We should have taken the trip to Hawaii."

- "I had the shirt for it but you fucked it up."

Though his role as an unstoppable, murderous cyborg in The Terminator was his breakout hit it was his role as the ludicrously named John Matrix in Commando that cemented his action hero status as he kills his way through an entire army and resorts to using everyday gardening tools when he runs out of bullets. This is a childhood favourite that I always have a great time with long into adulthood.

A retired Special Forces colonel (Arnold Schwarzenegger) embarks on a perilous quest to rescue his kidnapped daughter from a former comrade in arms.

This is as bare bones an action flick one could possibly imagine but my word does it pack a punch. Arnie didn't want to be typecast as the villain so Commando hammers home his good guy status straight out of the gate by beating the viewer over the head with a parenting montage where he laughs, has ice-cream on his nose and frolics with his daughter. All of which comes after he casually walks around holding a tree mind you. This also sparks a list of insane character monikers Arnie will adopt over the years, John Matrix may top them all but Jericho Kane has to be up there.

Arnie is your typical behemoth, one man killing machine synonymous with action movies of the 1980s that shakes off an entire squad of mall cops like a cartoon, pulls an occupied phone booth out of the ground like a carrot and lays waste to an entire compound of trained paramilitary personnel like it was a video game on novice difficulty. He also gets to spew one liners almost every five minutes like James Bond.

ing Arnie in this batshit display of muzzle flashes is Vernon Wells (Mad Max 2) as Bennett, a vest wearing, moustachioed, paunchier Freddie Mercury who provides the film's primary antagonist and is a former teammate of Matrix's. Actual werewolf Dan Hedaya adds an extra dose of over the top menace as a Latin American warlord using Matrix to further his political ends. Nobody is winning awards for originality or worthwhile character development here that's for sure. Rae Dawn Chong meanders her way through the film as a bit of eye candy, a forced romantic angle for Arnie and astonishingly as a new mother for his kid. She's just there for a bit of levity and to fire a rocket launcher in the wrong direction, there's nothing to her character other than fundamental plot convenience.

You're here for the carnage and it's delivered in absolute spades. The movie plods along with one entertaining set piece after the other whether that be a chaotic mall sequence where Arnie swings across the lobby like Tarzan or a car chase that culminates in a spot of cliff diving. The movie shifts into utter chaos as soon as Arnie gears up...and it's a marvellous montage at that. Camouflage application, ammo loading, magazine clipping, knives sheathing, biceps bulging, it has the lot. The subsequent obliteration serves as the film's highlight that sees a bemuscled Schwarzenegger mow his way through foe after foe scalping dudes with rusty saw blades and gutting folk with trowels. Tying all of that madness up in a neat bow is the film's crazy final showdown that's hands down one of the best villain outros of all time.

The action is nonstop throughout with explosion after explosion, bullet swarms, blood squibs and bazookas. Commando is nothing nobody hasn't seen a thousand times over in the 1980s let alone generally but Schwarzenegger has bags of charisma and charm not to mention a powerful presence that helps Commando stand out. There's something undeniably satisfying watching him do what he does best.

Commando is a well paced, entertaining action film that breezes by thanks to its unashamedly cartoonish action and over the top characters. It's rife with errors, dodgy acting, a goofy plot and daft mayhem but it's quintessential, brainless 80s viewing at the end of the day.

- ", Sully when I promised to kill you last?"

- "That's right, Matrix. You did!"

- "I lied."

The film that launched the careers of both director James Cameron and action legend Arnold Schwarzenegger takes massive inspiration from John Carpenter's Halloween and that's a hill I'm willing to die on. Cameron actually emulates Carpenter quite a lot here that this could easily as one of the latter's. Despite this, Cameron does deliver a seminal sci-fi classic brimming with style, panache and genuine horror that changed the genre and cinema itself forever.

I want to quickly get this out of the way to those who believe that the sorely missed Bill Paxton is the only actor to have died at the hands of a Xenomorph, a Predator and a Terminator...if you honestly believe being thrown into a fence from five feet away killed him then I'm guessing you have to assume the T-800 also killed the cop he takes the police car from (who actually appears in T2 as the guy snapping Polaroids of Arnie after the T-1000 dishes him through a window) and the dude on the payphone. Arnie actually lets a lot of people live ...and no, it doesn't work for Lance Henriksen either but I won't get into that right here and now.

Decades after the near extermination of the human race, Earth's AI conquerors launch a desperate bid to defeat the human resistance by sending a cyborg back in time to 1984 Los Angeles to kill a young woman before she can give birth to man's future saviour. However, the titular machine must face off against a human soldier sent back willing to protect her at all cost.

Everything about The Terminator works. There isn't a dull moment from an incredible opening credits sequence backed up by a now infamous Brad Fiedel score that hooks you by the balls to a chaotic nightclub shootout playing out to an 80s banger. Flashback (or flashforward) scenes offer a glimpse at a bleak, desolate future clouded with misery, poverty and hurt. The future scenes are a tour de force in astonishing miniature work featuring a myriad of different, futuristic aircraft and war vehicles spraying plasma rounds that light up a cold, dead landscape of scorched infrastructure and an endless graveyard of human skulls. Stan Winston is to thank here with his unquestionable genius showcased marvellously throughout. Yes, the obvious prosthetic head stands out like a sore thumb but it was the early 80s, at least it looked like Arnie. The scalpel entering the eyeball itself is still wince inducing decades on because it's gross.

The story may be rife with scientific jargon and time travel mumbo-jumbo but its remarkably coherent in the face of this thanks to its bare bones primary narrative. Arnold Schwarzenegger is a terrifying menace in The Terminator, even more so after having his eyebrows burned off. His presence is undeniably commanding throughout offering an extremely believable robotic demeanour with an all but permanent frown and a thick, Austrian accent that delivers a host of famous lines. He was simply born for this role and boy, I just can't imagine anyone else in the shades and jacket other than him.

It's the pairing of Michael Biehn as protector Kyle Reese and Linda Hamilton as protectee Sarah Connor that are the beating heart of the film with a phenomenal display of onscreen chemistry. Biehn conveys hopelessness, pain and love flawlessly in a series of well written expositional scenes that paint a very heartbreaking picture of being a freedom fighter at the end of the world and coasts through the film oozing cool and kicking ass. Linda Hamilton is just outstanding as the every woman thrust into an insane life and death ordeal that has to find the fire within herself if she is to not only survive the night but provide humanity with its only hope for victory against a seemingly undefeatable foe. She also does well not to murder a child early on in the film. They are both quite frankly terrific.

The superbly structured action scenes are the film's strongest attribute outside of an engaging story. Stand out moments include the infamous police station massacre, some outstanding future battle segments, one of the best vehicle explosions ever and a terrifying cat and mouse finale in an industrial robotics factory. The story boils down to your run of the mill showdown but not before throwing in a couple more neatly revealed surprises that really liven up the action and horror.

Shades of Halloween II can be seen all over the finale with that shot of Laurie watching in horror as Michael walks toward her completely engulfed in flames showing her that he will not stop. I'm con-fucking-vinced that the T-800 is based on Michael Myers in some capacity. There's the shot holding the phone in the dark, the relentless, inhumane determination, the indiscriminate murder of anyone actively in his way and the targeting of a specific young woman whilst having a mortal, experienced hero in pursuit.

The Terminator is a timeless classic alive with phenomenal action, a meaty science fiction story, fantastic practical effects, Linda Hamilton's boobs, superb performances, a great Van Helsing/Dracula dynamic, genuine horror and a truly magnificent score. This is a incredible example of pulp cinema at its finest.

- "I love you, mom."

- "I love you too, sweetheart."

I needed an old friend to help scrub away the taste of ass left behind from watching Anacondas: Trail of Blood last night so I called upon childhood buddy Arnold Schwarzenegger to help.

Ah, the gloriously squibtastic era of ultra violent movies that was the late 80s and early 90s. What a time to grow up, watching movies with three-titted strippers, mutant Hank from Breaking Bad and Arnie spewing one liners like his life depended on it.

Total Recall, based on a novella from Philip K. Dick tells the story of gigantic everyman Doug Quaid (a peak Arnold Schwarzenegger) who after purchasing memory implants at ReKall giving him the memories of a secret agent on Mars becomes embroiled in a conspiracy involving nefarious Mars Cohaagen (a villainous Ronny Cox).

Ahead of its time. Totall Recall is years ahead of its time. Some of cinema's greats are on show here from director Paul Verhoeven, Alien scribes Ronald Shussett and Dan O'Bannon, outrageous practical effects from the man behind the monsters in The Thing, Rob Bottin and a fantastic science fiction score from legend Jerry Goldsmith. It's a visual roller-coaster backed up by a great espionage narrative that continuously pushes the boundaries of special and practical effects of the time.

Arnold Schwarzenegger chews his way through the entire film with classic quips and superhuman braun, just the way I like it. Ronny Cox and Michael Ironside kill it as the film's overtly shady villains complete with scowls, grumbles and the occasional narrative bombshell to keep things exciting. Its gun toting carnage, bloody mayhem and comedic undertone can distract from a story that requires genuine attention. Despite its straightforward plot at face value there's a clever tale of consciousness and free will at play here, something that can easily get bogged down under the insane violence and batshit imagery. I mean, Mars looks fucking great albeit way too red. If you're watching this and have a stigmatism, you're screwed.

Necks are skewered, arms are severed and eyes literally burst in one of the goriest movies I've seen though extremely typical of Verhoeven. Robocop is famous for its cartoony violence and Total Recall follows suit almost to a tee. The infamous scene where Arnie gets stranded on the Mars surface without a helmet is straight nightmare fuel! As a kid 80% of what happens in Total Recall stayed with me for years.

This movie is almost endlessly quotable and still lives on thirty five years later. The infamous "two weeks" scene still kicks ass even though it was such a ludicrously elaborate disguise that makes absolutely no sense at all. The film is a superb showcase of outstanding creativity both digitally and by hand. An x-ray screening conveyor is so beautifully rendered, holograms are seamless against live characters and the green screen and miniatures are phenomenal. Rob Bottin brings his A game here with the practical effects from outstanding make up work on the mutant inhabitants of Mars to grotesque pulp, gore and prosthetics not to mention the film's robotic taxi drivers named JohnnyCabs...they are utterly horrific and almost as nightmare inducing as Arnie's eyes popping out of his skull.

Total Recall is a film alive with clever foreshadowing and conspiracy leaving the viewer with an appropriate amount of questions once the credits roll that challenge the original perception to its seemingly clear-cut happy ending. It's an ending that stinks of over familiar convenience and science fiction fantasy but isn't as transparent and final when you really think about it. It's unashamedly triumphant resolution is even matched with corny dialogue and an uplifting score to hammer home a traditional movie ending but leaves a valid, lingering thought that the writing attempts to cleverly subvert with clichés.

There's so much more to Total Recall than its famous effects, violence and Arnie quipping and breaking bones. There's a truly gripping narrative that asks questions more pertinent to modern society now than upon the film's release. How far are we willing to go to escape reality? I don't think there's many better at satire than Verhoeven. Then again I can understand these questions falling by the wayside when you see The Terminator wear a towel around his bonce for ten whole minutes like your mum does after a bath.

Bloody, exciting and gripping, Total Recall is a childhood favourite that still delivers thrills and gore in abundance ed by an intriguing story and committed performances across the board. No shade on Len Wiseman's 2012 Colin Farrell led remake but I'll take cheesy one liners, an overuse of blood squibs, Arnie's facial expressions and bullshit space physics over child friendly robot porn any day...although fair play for getting a on the three titties in a PG-13 film.

- "The fare is eighteen credits, please."

- "Sue me, dickhead."

Why? Why did I choose to put myself through this atrocity after the shambles that was Anaconda 3: Offspring? That movie's idiot director returns to helm the fourth entry and it's the same damn movie as the third and therefore another money laundering piece of insulting, nutty shit.

The funny thing is that I'd probably be somewhat more lenient on the third and fourth entries if they weren't played completely straight and devoid of any humour.

An anaconda genetically engineered in a cottage in Romania breaks loose juiced up on the blood orchid forcing a dying billionaire (a returning paycheck hunting John Rhys-Davies) to deploy a team of mercenaries to kill a meddling scientist and to recover the research that can save his life.

This is more of the same inept bollocks from a talentless filmmaker whose unashamedly cheap approach makes for a painful viewing experience rife with terrible effects, a laughable script and awful acting. Yet again the snake looks like it was animated by a corpse and further drags the series deeper into the mud. There is absolutely nothing to enjoy, nothing to ire and nothing to praise whatsoever. The story is excruciatingly bland and continues on from the previous film's cancer curing lunacy that wasn't interesting in the second film let alone the last two fraudulent abominations.

It's easy for the casual viewer to be shocked at the sight of Gimli from The Lord of the Rings but trust me, over the years the man has shown up in some shit in between the occasional studio film and clearly has no qualms with the quality of his projects. To each their own. Crystal Allen also returns from the third film as our heroine and is probably the best thing about two terrible movies. Johnny Cage himself Linden Ashby also features and seeing his name show up in the opening credits evoked a genuine disappointed sigh from me. I thought he'd be better than this. Everyone else is there to be killed in various gruesome ways and pad the runtime with hilariously uninteresting character development and clichéd dialogue heavy segments.

It's the same poor editing, the same weak story structure, the same crappy effects, the same school project feel, the same stupid flashbacks from events that happened five minutes ago, the same cheap setting, the same terrible green screen driving effects and the same boring death scenes. This film doesn't attempt to be original in any aspect at all or even deviate from the eye opening disaster that was Anaconda 3. The deaths are cartoonish and tame and the CGI is a joke that looks like it was developed on a Nokia 3310. You can rest easy knowing that no practical effects were used for the slithering beasts because the entire budget went on the popular shooting locations of rural Romania.

Avoid this at all costs. It doesn't even fall into the realm of 'so bad it's good' it's just plain shit. It was sheer curiosity that drove me to experience this and I've thusly realised I'd rather have castrated myself with a rubber band than watch this. Hindsight is a bitch.

This isn't Fury Road. It doesn't try to be Fury Road. This is an odyssey story told in five chapters over fifteen years that dives into the plight of Furiosa in her youth and her ionate lust for vengeance...that does deliver some traditionally spectacular set pieces along the way to whet one's appetite.

It may sit behind both Mad Max 2 and Fury Road but it's still one hell of an awesome ride that definitely stands out thanks to George Miller's undeniably unique penchant for visual storytelling.

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga follows the arduous journey of Furiosa (played by both Alyla Browne and Anya Taylor-Joy) a spirited young member of a peaceful, secret community from a hidden paradise who is captured by the unhinged leader of the Biker Horde, Dementus (a delightfully batshit Chris Hemsworth). Biding her time, Furiosa rises through the ranks to War Rig driver under the rule of Immortan Joe in a quest for both vengeance and a return home.

The action is spectacular and wonderfully drawn out for maximum spectacle from an aerial assault on the War Rig to a fantastically chaotic battle in the quarry like pits of the Bullet Farm. There's more than enough to satisfy everyone's action boners. Vehicles disintegrate, Warboys smash every Wasteland kamikaze high-diving record there is and a man with horns called the Octoboss flies around looking like that thing from Nope. Miller's apocalyptic flair is all over Furiosa with traditionally spectacular costume and set design, insane characters rife with a myriad of different psychotic personalities and some gloriously creative cars and motorcycles. For instance Dementus' vehicular prowess comes in the form of a chariot led by three roaring bikes that he leads his army of 'a thousand mad bastards' from.

Once again the Wasteland imagery is wonderfully realised via aerial shots and gorgeous landscapes. The Bullet Farm and Gastown are seen in glorious detail, the aerial shots of marauding vehicles approaching the Citadel are gorgeously rendered and a montage depicting the Forty Day Wasteland War offers a vibe of chaotic madness. I'd be lying if I said there wasn't a fair bit of subpar green screen throughout though. I have to be honest and it's not necessarily the film's fault but rather the industry in general, CGI has weirdly taken a step back in recent years which I just can't get my head around.

Returning characters from Fury Road include Immortan Joe, his son Rictus Erectus and the Organic Mechanic and are all portrayed by their original actors barring Joe who is played by Lachy Hulme following the ing of Hugh Keays-Byrne that further expand on the lore and world of the Wasteland. New characters get their time in the sun from Joe's other son, the strangely named Scrotus (villain in the underrated Mad Max game from 2015) to the appropriately named Piss Boy, a Warboy clad in bottles of piss used to maintain vehicles.

Tom Burke is a notable addition as Praetorian Jack, a War Rig jockey with obvious Max vibes that looks the part and drives the part too. He also serves as somewhat of a mentor in road war to Furiosa, teaching her the necessary skills to navigate the hellish landscapes of this unforgiving new world. No-one holds a candle to Chris Hemsworth though whose maniacally charming portrayal of Dementus is brimming with intrigue, turmoil and a blinding desire for power over the Wasteland. There's a fast evaporating mist inside him that was once a heart that seeps through here and there when he's not orchestrating motorcycle dismemberments and dog racing with real humans as the bunny.

This is the longest film in the series but I can't be more honest when I say those two and a half hours flew by. The action is a blast, the characters are well fleshed out and Furiosa's story is always on the move and never dull or boring.

It's an absolute shame its box office numbers weren't that great. I need more from the Wasteland. Furiosa kicks ass, both the character and the movie.

"Where are you going? So full of hope...THERE IS NO HOPE!"

This movie is so exciting and relentless I could almost shed tears of genuine happiness that this film merely exists in a time where I do too. This means so much to me and that's something I can feel inside my soul every time I watch it.

If I could give this six stars I totally would! Winner of six Oscars and nominated for ten including Best Director for George Miller and Best Picture. That's right, the third sequel to an indie, Australian flick from 1979 was nominated for Best Picture. Half chase movie, half race movie, Mad Max: Fury Road ranks as one of, if not the finest action movie of all time.

In the harsh, desert Wasteland drifter and former cop Max Rockatansky (a grizzled Tom Hardy) is captured by tyrannical warlord The Immortan Joe (a returning Hugh Keays-Byrne who played Toecutter in the original film) and unwillingly becomes involved in a frantic pursuit of his viceroy Furiosa (a fantastic Charlize Theron) who has absconded with his five wives.

Ho-ly fuck what an experience this was at the cinema ten years ago! Miller delivers an unbelievable achievement in filmmaking that will stand the test of time for decades. This is a truly awe-inspiring thrill ride that seldom takes its foot off the gas. From minute one the insane stuntwork and creative, vehicular madness is showcased to spectacular effect leading to a title card that still after a decade of multiple views evoked a "Fuck yea!" from me. Max's early capture reduces him to a mere blood bag used to keep Immortan Joe's half life Warboys alive where he's subsequently deployed as a hood ornament when the chaos begins.

Tom Hardy makes for an interesting Max whose years in the Wasteland have truly turned him mad, often manically reacting to things and grunting incoherently. He's a haunted shell constantly fending off memories of failure and despair. Once again, it's a Max stripped of his humanity who reluctantly assists a desperate Furiosa against his better judgment. Theron kills it as said Furiosa whose beckstory eventually manifested into her own spin off feature just last year starring Anya Taylor-Joy. Driven by her cause she more than shows her might, determination and driving skills in order to return to her luscious homeland years after being enslaved by Joe's reign. Nicholas Hoult deserves high praise as Warboy Nux who like countless others are blindly loyal to Joe, regarding him as an all-knowing deity but is thrown into a great redemptive arc that almost wins him the star of the show award, almost.

The aforementioned Hugh Keays-Byrne's Joe is a gasmasked, silver haired tyrant who rules the Citadel, a vibrant oasis with flora and fauna aplenty that pumps an unending amount of water from deep within the earth which he purposely rations to the dehydrated masses below and has dubbed Aqua-Cola. The power he has is unfathomable. Gardens, gorgeous wives used solely for breeding that he literally keeps locked in a vault, rotund women used to pump breast-milk in some sort of titty farm, a never ending supply of loyal soldiers and a solid partnership with rulers of Gastown and the Bullet Farm, Wasteland kingdoms that have an abundance of what their names suggest.

With the performances covered I can get back to lauding the groundbreaking chase sequences that offer some of the finest vehicle design, elaborate stuntwork and carnage ever filmed from a razor sharp assault from Russian speaking Wastelanders who drive spiky rust buckets to a magnificently choreographed motorcycle attack through a canyon all backed up by a phenomenal, pounding score from Junkie XL. Chainsaw wielding psychos swing from twenty foot poles, the Warboys spray paint their teeth before kamikaze leaping off of trucks and Tom Hardy reloads a pistol and cocks it with one hand in order to stop Furiosa from kicking his ass. This is a roller-coaster of joy and spectacle that just lingers so long after the credits roll. Even the slower parts are great excuses for character development and unlocking what drives our heroes to continue in the never ending battle for survival in the Wasteland.

Miller's direction and penchant for coherent storytelling told through the medium of high octane action is unmatched. There is more than one subtle reference to the saga as a whole from a Max dream featuring a quick blink-and-you'll-miss-it nod to Toecutter's death, the funny binoculars/telescope interaction between Max and The Gyro Captain in Mad Max 2 and of course the music box he gives to the feral kid in the same film. This is a remarkably told story of redemption and hope, something Max had thought he had lost altogether but is rekindled within him thanks to Furiosa's ionate drive. It ends as perfectly as it can for a Mad Max film, with our reluctant hero once again finding the soul hiding within.

Utterly superb in every way. Long live the world of Mad Max. The Road Warrior.

"You know, hope is a mistake...If you can't fix what's broken...You'll go insane."

Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome is a ballsy sequel that ditches the relentless vehicular carnage and unhinged villainy for the weirdest cage fight you'll ever see, Tina Turner ruling a town that runs on pig shit and Mel Gibson regaining his humanity by Peter Panning it and leading a band of children to a better life.

Former cop Max Rockatansky (another fine Gibson performance) finds himself as a hired gun by Aunty Entity (a pretty great Tina Turner) who runs Bartertown, a trade post citadel in the middle of the Wasteland. Circumstances lead to Max's exile where he's rescued by a community of tribal children who believe him to be a returning saviour destined to take them home.

I've found more and more appreciation for Beyond Thunderdome over the years after initially outright disliking it as a kid that's for sure and it still has one of the best original songs in cinema history. No shade on Miller here either who behind the scenes wasn't in a great headspace before and during production due to the loss of longtime creative partner Byron Kennedy, to whom the film is dedicated.

There's a clear and present tone shift almost straight out of the gate with Tina Turner singing over the opening credits and a father and son duo robbing Max of his camels. Not only that but Bruce Spence returning as a completely different pilot of another unorthodox flying machine is a really weird move considering his screen time bookends the film and his character is of minor importance overall. Where the first two movies began with thrilling chases Beyond Thunderdome meanders it's way through an overall bland first act.

The titular dome is a glorified MMA octagon but with ammo drops and bungee ropes. It's absolutely fucking batshit. Watching Max getting thrown around by a giant wearing a diving bell as a helmet is pretty funny, something I'm guessing dual directors Georges Miller and Ogilvie weren't aiming for. It never feels at all worthy of naming the movie after other than 'Thunderdome' sounds cool. Which it totally does. It's entertaining enough I guess but certainly lacking the high octane thrills of the previous films. Say goodbye to the Thunderdome as it's never revisited or mentioned again after the first act. From there Max randomly ends up in a remote oasis where chanting children in rags speak pigeon English and worship an airline captain.

There's very little in the way of excitement throughout but some really good storytelling is allowed to breathe for once, not that it was an issue at all before. The children's plight is well written and believable in this crazy world that Miller has crafted. They're all great performers too which is extremely rare when you have so many kids on screen at once. Unfortunately it's just too light considering the raw insanity on display before it. The finale does at least offer a return to form for the series with an extremely well crafted and brilliantly shot chase between a convenient train and a bunch of rocket powered dune buggies. However it just feels too little too late. As if Turner was ever gonna die in this and she's not even the movie's villain, I'm not really positive it even has one, nobody worthy of 'main protagonist' anyway. There's not only obvious humanity in Aunty Entity but she openly concedes power in front of the entire population of Bartertown to a symbiotic dwarf/giant brains/braun character I'm pretty sure was the inspiration for a Mortal Kombat combatant. Other than an un-killable underling that survives point blank explosions and head on collisions nobody stands out as the 'bad guy'.

It ends neatly though with some great imagery and miniature work to bring a long dead and ruined Sydney to life finally confirming the world's decline visually for the first time in the series. Is it a fitting end to Max's saga? Yes and no. Max is much more heroic and eventually allows himself to succumb to his inner soul but its a much less enjoyable ride that strays so far away from the pulpy, visceral approach that worked so well in Mad Max 2 in favour of a much more family friendly adventure.

Everyone is awesome though and the inhabitants of Bartertown certainly retain that wild, vibrant eccentricity in both appearance and behaviour. Characters such as Dr Dealgood and Pig Killer offer lively as a Vincent Price-esque ring announcer and a loveable convict respectively. Gibson kills it as do Turner and the children and it's those performances that steady a swaying ship and keep it afloat. Don't get me wrong there's wonky line delivery and some overacting here and there but few films of this ilk are perfect across the board.

Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome may be the weakest of the series but it certainly has the most heart.

"Ladies and gentlemen...boys and girls...dyin' time's here!"

Mad Max 2 is one of the greatest films ever made let alone one of the greatest sequels. Known as The Road Warrior in the US because Americans had apparently never heard of Australia before 1981, George Miller delivers a 90 minute, apocalyptic thrill ride that seldom relents. This is pulp cinema at its very best.

Following the global decimation of modern civilization caused by thermonuclear war, a haunted drifter navigating the Wasteland reluctantly agrees to help a community operating a gasoline refinery under attack from a gang of psychotic marauders.

I love this film. It's a tour de force from the first minute with a superb opening narration describing the fall of man that fills in the ambiguity left over from Mad Max where the world certainly felt like society's collapse was in progress but was never confirmed outright. Miller keeps the narrative extremely simple but allows for this new world he created to tell its own story. It's a bleak, desolate existence only tolerable for the beauty of the Australian outback that sings in every wide shot. The cinematography is quite frankly ahead of its time with outrageous distant shots of marauding psychos leaving huge dust trails in their wake as they circle a refinery that's lit up like a Christmas tree and once again Miller revels in delivering some of the finest driving sequences ever put to celluloid.

Gibson returns as Max and has about 10% of dialogue compared to the first film. He's a man reborn in a dead world and it oozes out of a fantastic performance. He carries such an aura and screen presence all packed into a superbly apocalyptic hero outfit that's the same leather policeman get-up he wore in the original film only worn, weathered and complete with an attached leg brace ing a gunshot injured knee sustained in the film's finale. His dog, appropriately named Dog is the goodest boy that acts as the perfect sidekick for a nomadic loner. Not afraid to jump into dangerous situations or quite literally blow a man's head off with a sawn-off shotgun should the need arise, he certainly challenges Max for star of the show. Not far behind them is the film's primary villain, Lord Humungus who leads his 'dogs of war' across the Wasteland. Imagine a ripped, gay Jason Voorhees and you probably have his exact image in your head. He also keeps Bennett from Commando on a leash who wears leather pants with no ass, has a red mohawk and drives around with a rent-boy. It would be criminal not to mention that Bruce Spence is awesome as The Gyro Captain, a mysterious wastelander who flies a gyrocopter and trains snakes to kill. He adds much needed levity to a deadly world and shows his stones in battle, rescues Max from certain death and even drives off into the sunset completing a very well written arc.

The action is just out of this world. What Miller is able to accomplish here is phenomenal. From a glorious opening chase that perfectly introduces our characters and the world they live in to one of the finest third acts in history. The final chase is unrelenting and fraught with insane shots and angles, explosive crashes, rag-dolling bad guys and a lot of Australian shouting and grunting.

Sandwiched between the film's great bookend sequences is a whole lot of villainous menace. Humungus bellows rather poetically through a megaphone, crucifies for fun and fires a thousand year old pistol with a scope. His dogs of war are typically eccentric and colourful carrying themselves with the decorum of coked up baboons who enjoy boomerang manicures and driving around with terrified people on the hoods of their batshit cars. Humanity is well and truly lost.

Mad Max 2 is a chaotic masterpiece fuelled by its cynical hero, utterly mental villains and its flawless direction and cinematography. George Miller not only delivers a clinic in filmmaking but further builds a truly unique world. Feral children, nitrous oxide, V8 engines, leather and mohawks, flamethrowers and eating dog food, I challenge anyone to bring an apocalyptic vision to life as realistically as George Miller. Long may he continue...although the bloke's 80 odd now.

"Greetings from The Humungus! The Lord Humungus! The Warrior of the Wasteland! The Ayatollah of Rock and Rolla!"

The first Mad Max is such an interesting film when compared to it's post-apocalyptic sequels. Max's police chief is a big, burly, bald man who likes to water his flowers wearing nothing but leather tros and a sash and the film's eyeliner wearing villain leads a band of genuinely unhinged, mannequin loving lunatics.

In the not too distant future, cop Max Rockatansky (a breakout role for a young Mel Gibson) is pursued across the gang ruled roads of rural Australia by a posse of ruthless bikers led by The Toecutter (a maniacal Hugh Keays-Byrne) who take revenge for a fallen comrade.

With the sheer brilliance that is Mad Max 2, known as The Road Warrior in many countries around the world it's very easy for the original's story and tone to fall by the wayside. With each subsequent entry taking place in a long dead world, Mad Max takes place in an Australia still clinging on to society. Though never specifically touched upon there are enough blatant hints that suggest civilization is on a massive decline.

George Miller really knows how to shoot a feature. Mad Max is rife with gorgeous wide shots of luscious, rural landscapes and mesmerising driving scenes shot so recklessly in 1979 the bloke is quite literally filming from the back of a motorcycle. Lacking the required filming permits, Miller was often illegally shooting throughout the countryside to avoid run ins with the law. All of the vehicle heavy sequences hold up to this very day such as the opening chase which is shot with the aforementioned bike enger technique. It's a pulsating thrill ride to kick things off complete with a classically cartoony trailer obliteration. Add a tweaking, Aussie headcase as the offending driver screaming in hysterical glee before crying at the mere sight of Max and you might have the greatest opening to any film in Gibson's portfolio.

Gibson's first Max portrayal is one brimming with hope in an uncertain future where he balances a young wife and child along with a dangerous position as a police officer in an ever degrading world. His madness is birthed via the actions of the film's psychotic villain who chews every bit of scenery he can get his magnificent hair follicles on. His band of batshit marauders, quite literally referred to as 'terminal crazies' are gloriously absurd during the gang's loud arrival to a small town showcasing a slew of varying personalities all running on the same fuel, madness.

Not defining the world in any discernable clarity works for Mad Max. There's a palpable sense of intrigue throughout thanks to its eccentric characters and their freedom. Though law enforcement still reigns over lawlessness the latter is clearly on the cusp of victory. The Halls of Justice, the base of operations for the Main Force Patrol is a dilapidated, run down building further implying a severe societal collapse.

Miller is unashamedly visceral in depicting the effects of a crazy world on crazy people with acts of barbarism, sadism and violence frequently displayed in droves. The film builds Max's eventual descent into madness gradually by exploiting the bonds he has that not only affect him but the viewer too. People often mourn the wrong Goose. Gibson's gets it worse than Cruise's.

Fast paced, fast cars, fast Australian tongues. Mad Max is a chaotic blast from start to finish and has way more saxophone than I .

- "Take your hat off."

- "Anything you say."

- "Anything I say? What a wonderful philosophy you have. Take him away."

Have you ever wondered what Mad Max would be like if you threw The Terminator and Tremors into the mix? Wonder no further. Screamers is your typically formulaic 90s sci-fi yarn that's as predictable and as derivative as you can imagine but manages to stay at least somewhat enjoyable.

A grizzled outpost commander (the great Peter Weller) stationed off-world during an interplanetary war must navigate the harsh terrain of Sirius 6B with a rookie soldier in order to negotiate peace talks. Along their travels they come into conflict with the AI robots created to turn the tide of the war that have become sentient and have thus evolved.

For the most part, Screamers is a charmingly dated action adventure film that does very little in the way of originality but has enough excitement to stave off watching something else. Peter Weller carries the entire movie on his shoulders and through his ridiculously blue eyes. The man wouldn't need s to star in Dune 3. He doesn't have much in the way of a meaty script to sink his teeth into but has enough trigger pulling and jumping off things to keep him going.

It's powered by half decent world building but the film centres on a lot of walking to stop a war that we the viewer have seen absolutely nothing of at all. Aside from an opening text crawl the stakes are never truly felt throughout the ensuing story. The focus turns to rather boring, dialogue heavy lulls in the second act with some able action dotted intermittently in between. The set design leans toward a mundane, industrial aesthetic that was popular in the 90s such as Alien³ with some classic matte backgrounds depicting otherworldly landscapes. The special effects are a mix of good and bad but overall, for a cheap sci-fi flick it's pretty able stuff.

The journey itself is mere padding and a fair enough excuse I guess to utilise some nice landscape shots sprinkled with some classic galactic touches. A subsequent gathering of recruits turns out to be nothing more than an excuse to liven up a quickly waning narrative with an incredibly forced romance angle, a classic asshole/pussy dynamic (nothing sexual) and more people for the chop. The machines or 'screamers' are never really explained outside of a tried and tested self awareness angle that doesn't borrow from The Terminator but outright burgles it. They start out as rat-like robots with buzz-saws that burrow under the ground and then become an army of refugee children before finally changing into whoever they like complete with sarcasm and angst upgrades. It's all kind of bizarre and comes off awfully tacky, even for the time. Suddenly all intrigue is jettisoned out of the airlock with this sudden revelation and in what seems like five minutes the film trims down its characters with a series of random double crosses and reckless decisions in order to force a typical 90s mano-e-mano finale.

What works for Screamers is its half decent overall narrative that's actually thanks to the short story from Philip K. Dick but the film somewhat neglects its adaptive potential in favour of a mundane action movie with an abundance of violence, Sega Saturn level CGI and characters so paper thin you could see Peter Weller at the back of a single file queue.

I vaguely this from my early teens and must have at least liked it enough to warrant succumbing to the urge to revisit it over twenty years later. I'm kinda glad I did but I always knew it wouldn't illicit the same feelings as it did back during a time when I thought Scary Movie 3 was one of the funniest films ever. This is just OK in all honesty and I doubt Weller would pick this in a list of standout features in his portfolio. Forgettable but not quite worthy of harsh critique.

"Can I come with you?"

Well, after 295 films watched whilst on Letterboxd I've finally logged my first one star movie. Anaconda 3: Offspring is hands down one of the shittest things I've ever laid eyes on. David Hasselhoff is arguably the biggest red flag in Hollywood and if he's leading a film then expectations should be lower than an anaconda's belly.

Dying billionaire Gimli (John Rhys-Davies, who often stars in tripe like this in between blockbusters like The Lord of the Rings) hires the worst mercenary team in history fronted by Baywatch star David Hasselhoff to track down and capture genetically engineered anacondas that have escaped from a lab that can be harvested to save his life.

Holy shit this sucks all of the ass. There isn't a single redeeming quality about this money laundering piece of garbage whatsoever. This makes Anacondas: The Hunt for the Blood Orchid look like Jaws in comparison. It not only keeps the Deep Blue Sea cancer curing lunacy from its predecessor but enhances on it to laughable effect. Speaking of effects the computer imagery on show here is just wince inducing. Everything is so poorly animated and unashamedly prominent on screen throughout it's easy to forget that the first film was only eleven years prior and this is how far the franchise has fallen after just two sequels.

Every driving scene has a terrible green-screen effect typical of 1960s television, the snake looks so bad you could swap it for Kaa from 1967's The Jungle Book and it would look more believable and the acting makes me want to cry. This all plays out like a high school project from the insanely tacky opening credits font to the crewmember just wandering around in the background of a shot. The first two movies were filmed in southeast Asia and Brazil respectively and looked fantastic...Anaconda 3 was filmed in Romania (the end credits surnames of the crew confirm this immediately) where it's notoriously cheap to shoot, just ask Steven Seagal. The film's actual setting is never revealed and mostly takes place at some random farmhouse. The laboratory where most of the first act occurs looks like an abandoned college filled with computers with basic DNA graphics on every screen with generic soundbites of various machinery beeping and sirens wailing in the background.

This is a laughably cheap, insult of a movie. The third entry ups the gore massively from the previous two and even delights in plastering every kill scene with dismembered limbs and chunky remains. It's commendable at first...then the rest of the movie happens and what once was a welcome addition to the franchise soon gets swept away under the devastating tidal wave that is the ineptitude of everyone involved.

When Hasselhoff cameos in movies the results are gold. When Hasselhoff leads movies the results are dogshit abominations. The dialogue is just phenomenally poor and delivered with the gusto of a dying fish from some of the cast and undeniable commitment from others. It's shot poorly, constructed poorly and edited poorly and yet some asshole thought the director deserved a crack at the fourth film...something I'm not sure I'm willing to put myself through based on this atrocity. (Edit: I fucking did put myself through it and it was shit)

Anaconda 3: Offspring cares very little about the source material and favours a by-the-numbers SyFy Channel approach that leaves any remnants of creativity at the door. I dare anyone to highlight a single half decent moment let alone a fully decent moment.

The snake has a machete tail, kills people as if it's a fucking bear and looks as if someone asked a 90 year old man who went blind at 7 to draw a snake from memory. This is a bad film. A really bad film.

"Where there's blood. There's more blood"

Award winning writing right there.

when Jason Statham randomly shows up for five seconds at the start of Collateral? Cillian Murphy shows up in TRON: Legacy as the son of David Warner's character in the original film, although for a wee bit longer and then disappears altogether.

Tron was a groundbreaking achievement way back in 1982 that laid some serious groundwork for the swathe of CGI heavy movies to come over the next couple of decades. TRON: Legacy suffers from being released during an era where big budget, CGI heavy blockbusters are common place. Avatar was released mere months earlier and The Matrix a decade before that. There's nothing in TRON: Legacy that has any wow factor whatsoever and that's not necessarily its fault.

After hacker and Encom CEO Kevin Flynn (a returning post-Dude Jeff Bridges) mysteriously disappears in 1989, his son Sam (a not entirely convincing Garrett Hedlund) is transported to the digital realm his father created where he too must compete in a series of games for the entertainment of the programs. Once there he discovers a coup set by his father's created program Clu (a cartoon Jeff Bridges that really does not stand the test of time) who has nefarious intentions in the real world.

There are three main, standout moments in this belated sequel. Once again the light cycle sequence is dazzling and entertaining but ultimately shortlived. A colourful night club fight scene kicks off to the sound of techno legends Daft Punk who not only provide the film's soundtrack (which is utterly superb by the way) but cameo as the club DJs that even get to have the film's best comedic moment. Finally the film cleverly subverts the expectation of another light cycle sequence only for light jets to manifest in a fantastic set piece that once again doesn't last long but does more than enough to leave its mark.

Clu, who disappears after the first act of the original film, returns as the film's villain and takes centre stage for a good chunk of the runtime with a de-aged face only just better than that preposterous Schwarzenegger bullshit in Terminator: Salvation a year or so prior. He's fine and menacing enough with some cool scene intros and villainous dialogue. Hedlund is ok as son, Sam who coasts through a rather mundane arc with that generic hero gusto. Bruce Boxleitner only cameos as Alan Bradley/Tron and the latter is reduced to nothing more than a henchman to Clu and is never seen in the flesh but rather behind a visor and only shows up when the story requires a battle sequence or clichéd redemptive hints. Michael Sheen and Olivia Wilde provide decent and have plenty to add to an ever fascinating universe.

Unfortunately the upgraded universe of the cyber-world lacks that video game aesthetic that blew everyone's tits off thirty years earlier and prefers a bleak, cloudy world that doesn't feel at all cybernetic or digital but rather that of an advanced, dystopian human future Earth. Yes, everything is lit up like a Christmas tree and looks fine but regardless of excellent costume and set design the universe feels more like if humans rebuilt civilization after defeating Skynet. There's really nothing that impressive here which is both a shame and not a real surprise in all honesty. Legacy is clearly darker, both literally and in tone than it's predecessor with some cool body dismemberments coated in child friendly digital effects and very little humour.

As you'd expect there are plenty of Easter eggs and references to the original film that land well though and despite it being less enjoyable than the first film and half an hour longer it never feels like a slog. TRON: Legacy is a well paced and often thrilling sequel that expands positively on established lore and brings a 21st century flourish to the special effects but ultimately lacks the creativity and brazen approach of the 1982 hit.

Once again however, there's not much of a story going on other than a by the numbers good guy/bad guy narrative that doesn't really try to be different. Clu has a random desire to invade earth in some mental way so builds your generic, boring army via way of convenient storytelling. They do nothing. Tron: Ares does seem to be a continuation of this idea, at least that's what the trailer suggests.

And as bad as Jeff Bridges' de-aged face is, it's still more convincing than what happened to poor, departed Ian Holm in Alien: Romulus. He also clearly has his famous role in The Big Lebowski burned into his psyche because I don't Flynn suffixing almost every sentence with 'man' as much as both he and Clu do here.

- "I had a feeling you'd be here."

- "The cycles haven't been kind, have they?"

- "No, you don't look so bad."

I only bits and pieces of Tron from my childhood in the 90s and for whatever reason haven't watched it since...until now. Holy fuck what Disney managed to achieve in 1982 is nothing short of astonishing. The light cycles alone are enough to make a grown man weep in his pants.

Prolific hacker, Kevin Flynn (a wonderful pre-Dude Jeff Bridges) is transported to a digital realm via a sophisticated artificial intelligence where he's conscripted to participate in gladitorial games. Once there he befriends a security program named Tron (a pre-Babylon 5 Bruce Boxleitner) and together they set out to defeat a nefarious software known as the Master Program.

The story here is pretty nonexistent outside of a simple 'wronged hero reclaims credit for a moneymaker stolen by a villainous tech exec' plot that bookends the film. Everything in between is a feast for the eyes. The CGI is quite simply outstanding. Today it might seem charmingly dated but Christ this movie looks better than some Marvel projects in the 2020s. It's wall-to-wall imagery that just couldn't be matched for years thereafter. Flynn's transportation is still a superb demonstration of advanced filmmaking that perfectly grips a hold of you and takes you with him.

David Warner absolutely goes for it here with a truly committed performance spanning three roles. He's not only shady corporate exec Ed Dillinger but also his created program Sark, Viceroy of this digital world serving the Master Program voiced by Warner. Bridges and Boxleitner are the film's heroes and navigate their way to a final showdown in a series of vibrant, mesmerising set pieces from a brilliantly visualised disc battle to a thrilling light cycle race that breaches the game's parameters. The visuals are just lightyears ahead of their time. Everything is so beautifully rendered in Tron I'm still thinking about it hours later. It's hands down up there with the most ambitious and impressive pieces of cinema I've seen. Yes it's extremely light on story and some of the sequences however clever can seem a little confusing to the senses. A lot is happening in every frame and it's easy for the eyes to wander and tire with so much to take in at every turn.

Despite its futuristic approach the 1980s shines through the chaos with a gloriously over the top synth score accompanying each action set piece. The music is another feather in Tron's cap along with its computer imagery and committed performances. It's lacklustre story is a minor complaint in the grand scheme of things when it's substituted for gratuitous world building and excitement galore.

Tron is a standout Disney accomplishment that even manages to squeeze in a quick scene of hand drawn animation involving green, spider-like programs and a blatant Pac-Man Easter Egg. It also influences the character of Moses in South Park which literally made me snap my fingers and point at the TV like Dicaprio.

"Pretty good driving."

"No."

Justin Long just gets punished in every horror movie he's in. Carried off into the sky in Jeepers Creepers, literally turned into a walrus in Tusk and now sucking the hairy, milky tit of a gigantic lady-thing in Barbarian.

Oh, and what's with recent horror movies having the antagonist be a 9ft tall, skinny, super strong, disfigured, greasy haired...thing? Smile has done it, even Alien: Romulus strayed almost as far. Barbarian adds saggy boobs to there giant but it's still a bloke called Matthew in a suit.

When Tess (a terrific Georgina Campbell) books into an Airbnb on a dark, rainy night she discovers it already has a temporary resident in Keith (a typically great Bill Skarsgard). Taking refuge from the storm Tess decides to stay the night when things start to go bump in the darkness unravelling a series of frightening revelations beneath the seemingly family friendly home.

Barbarian sets up a bare bones narrative with some clever intrigue by having our leads overcome a socially awkward situation that slowly begins to blossom into something of a meet-cute. From there the story, if you can call it that teases its horror through tense, grizzly discoveries. Unfortunately they don't amount to much in the way of anything remotely scary. Don't get me wrong the mysterious, gigantic monster lady is used to outstanding effect here and there with some eery shots in the dark, advancing through a corridor against intermittent torchlight and slightly superhuman strength. However once that reveal is done bashing a skull into pulp the intrigue wears off incredibly fast. Suddenly the earlier ghostly, tension building trope of slowly closing doors makes no sense after you see The Mother (its credited name) operate with the subtlety of a gibbon on crack.

For some reason this movie feels like three episodes of a miniseries stitched together and that's not an embellishment. Justin Long appears out of nowhere as a really shady TV producer driving along a sun-kissed coastline and it's jarring as hell and randomly sets back the movie needlessly with some completely unnecessary character development I just didn't care for. It does it again to basically prologue the final act with a well shot, mystery heightening flashback to the early 1980s with Richard Brake as the original tenant with a clear serial killer vibe straight out of the gate. That also serves little purpose ultimately. A homeless man quickly dumps out a heap of exposition in about twenty seconds before perfectly cueing his clichéd demise and it feels ever so forced. It ends rather weirdly with some overt abuse of physics, logic and human ability and once the credits started to roll I genuinely wondered why this has been lauded so much, just like Longlegs and the aforementioned Alien: Romulus. All three are bang average films personally speaking but were marketed brilliantly.

Georgina Campbell is the driving force of the film with some truly fantastic and completely believable terror chillingly conveyed through facial expressions and a broken voice. She's just great and I'd very much like to see more of her. Long is great as you'd expect and plays weaselly douchebags almost to perfection and is actually not to dissimilar from his character in Tusk. Skarsgard is oddly used in Barbarian giving way to a much less likeable character for the sake of a failed attempt at being shocking.

This was just fine. I didn't dislike it, I didn't love it. It has shades of a lot of horror movies all over it from It Follows, Don't Breathe and even a touch of The Hills Have Eyes and even Alien Resurrection if you really think about it...that might be a stretch but I'm standing by it. I may be in the minority here but Barbarian didn't feel all that original but there's enough to like.

"Nope."

From the man behind Free Willy 2: The Adventure Home and Tekken comes Anacondas: The Hunt for the Blood Orchid, sequel to 1997's Anaconda starring Jennifer Lopez. As straight to DVD sequels go, this isn't terrible but it adds a weird medicinal discovery element to a creature feature much like Deep Blue Sea that unnecessarily dumbs things down.

An exploration of the wild rivers of Borneo in search of a rare flower that has invaluable medicinal properties turns deadly when huge snakes pick off the team in the jungle after a waterfall mishap claims their vessel.

Much like it's 1997 predecessor this takes its sweet time getting to anything worthy of note. Instead the movie relies on its uninteresting setup to keep things interesting which proves difficult with such a bland group of characters. Sticking out like a sore thumb in this squadron of able actors and actresses is Johnny Mesner as the movie's macho hero and he has the acting range of a folded deckchair. Each line is so painfully delivered in such a bland tone and his badassery is so forced it almost feels like somewhat of a parody. The guy rides a rubber crocodile and stabs it to death and I'm meant to be what? Impressed? It comes off so ridiculous that Ace Ventura's battle against a croc is much more believable. He's ex-Special Forces and manages to get his shirt off, he is one of the nost unoriginal characters ever. There might be a few recognisable faces among the cast including an almost clone of Jennifer Lopez, the sniper from Rambo and Wink from 8-Mile (who is so loud and annoying throughout) but the star of the show is undoubtedly the monkey who's a better actor than his owner and mostly everyone else to be fair to it.

The action is annoyingly infrequent considering this is a direct sequel. The CGI is able at best for a 2004 straight to DVD followup and you can count on there being absolutely no physical model at play here that isn't a corpse, just tacky cartoon nonsense. Care did go toward the scenery and cinematography though that can't be overlooked, everything that isn't animated looks great from the jungle to the discovery of a large, dead anaconda with human legs sticking out of it in the middle of an abandoned tribal village. Fiji is a gorgeous paradise of a country. This movie does have its moments in fairness to it including a half decent underwater kill, a fairly cool tree rescue and a reasonable finale staged over a pit of giant anacondas but it's far from enough to rescue an otherwise forgettable sequel.

The bullshitty science angle is stupid. It's just too Deep Blue Sea which just about works in its own right as an original film. Adding some convoluted angle that makes the snakes bigger and stronger in a sequel to a basic creature flick is just overkill and only further cheapens a half decent franchise that once had potential. It also forces its villainous side story through a really weaselly Brit that will do anything to further his career. It's as by the numbers as it possibly could be and lacks any of the menace Jon Voight displayed in the original film.

All in all Anacondas: The Search for the Blood Orchid is a formulaic affair that isn't outright terrible but pales in comparison to the first film which is actually saying a lot seeing as that isn't a particularly great film either. It's two star tripe but I'd be lying if I said this didn't have one or two particularly entertaining scenes here and there.

Kids fucking ruin most horror movies. They merely serve as plot devices and high stakes and nothing else. That happens in abundance here in Speak No Evil, a film that allows for a truly unhinged alpha James McAvoy to dominate Scoot McNairy so aggressively into a beta that he loses every ounce of masculinity he had left.

When an American family on vacation in Italy are befriended by an exuberant English family they soon discover that something extremely nefarious is afoot during a weekend getaway on their Devonshire farm.

Unfortunately I haven't seen the Danish original but this was a bang average thriller that's as predictable as it is infuriating. Everyone is outstanding I want to be clear here, including the two children. McAvoy plays a truly insane villain with unclear motives that slowly start to reveal themselves as the mania unfolds. He's superb and channels a dark place as country bumpkin, Paddy whose eccentric, magnetic good guy charm quickly devolves into a psychopath. Scoot McNairy plays the part of useless man-dad, Ben who submits to Paddy's intense macho attitude at every turn only ever piping up once his wife does it first. The true hero of the film is his said wife, Louise (a fantastic Mackenzie Davis) who openly stands up to the increasingly strange parenting behaviour from her hosts. Aisling Franciosi plays the film's biggest interest point in Paddy's wife, Ciara who may or may not be a victim of his herself but the film doesn't offer a resolution to this and maybe intentionally leaves things ambiguous in that regard. There's hesitation to her insanity that's hard to ignore but her erratic behaviour doesn't lend anything firmly to the contrary.

The danger is foreshadowed subtly at first with facial cues, unconventional behaviour quickly attributed to cultural differences and the condition of Paddy's young 'son', Ant (a brilliant Dan Hough) that affects his speech. The movie continues to slowly ramp up the intrigue but it never pays off because it's all so easy to predict ages before the big reveals. Once Paddy's true intentions are finally revealed to the audience I've already somewhat checked out thanks to some really forced narrative clichés. Agnes (a great Alix West Lefler), daughter of Ben and Louise throws a fit over a comfort toy as they are clearly on their way to safety and kicks her dad's seat whilst he's driving that almost kills all three of them even though she's the one who gives her parents concrete evidence of foul play! It's a really piss poor plot device that's only an excuse to turn them around and extend an already stale tension angle.

The middle of the third act is where the film decides to go fully derivative by having an over-familiar cat and mouse finale in a big farmhouse that plays out exactly how you'd expect. This happens after a really played out attempt to leave that is so clearly never going to be allowed to happen considering they were already home free halfway through the film before Agnes decides to be an asshole. Hidden weapons blatantly foreshadowed earlier come into play along with some classic, sudden incompetence from antagonists who have literally gotten away with murder over a dozen times before. There's nothing glaringly original in Speak No Evil that really gripped me. Well, maybe McAvoy losing it with Ant for not dancing appropriately to school disco banger 'Cotten Eyed Joe' is pretty original.

It's an entertaining enough thriller that loses its way with its relentless tension extension that just wears out pretty thin come the eventual reveal. Come for a great Mackenzie Davis performance, stay for James McAvoy singing 'Eternal Flame' by The Bangles dead seriously to a bemused Scoot McNairy.

"Well, Louise is scrunch, Ciara is fold but you see, Ben and I were worried that if you fold you risk a puncture and you get a bit of poo on your finger."

From the random Welsh bloke who delivered arguably the greatest, Indonesian martial arts/cop movie of all time comes Havoc, a much slower burn and less exciting but still packs a gloriously bloody punch.

When a bungled drug deal implicates a mayor's son a grizzled homicide detective must battle through the criminal underbelly of his city to rescue him.

Gareth Evans delights in visceral, nauseating action sequences that are executed flawlessly and packed with ridiculously impressive choreography. He's also a connoisseur of blending chaotic firearms battles in with all the frantic martial arts used to outstanding effect in 2011's The Raid: Redemption. Havoc is light on action for its first fifty minutes or so choosing instead to focus on character and world building. It does however open with a great truck chase through a snow-kissed city that's shot brilliantly and ends with a washing machine to a torso. Tom Hardy never disappoints and having him front and centre in a Evans action flick just makes sense. Troubled, introverted and flawed roles are something Hardy plays to perfection. He has more acting chops than any action star has any right to but it's his fists and trigger finger that do most of the acting here, at least after the hour mark.

The action itself is gratuitous and pulsating. Blood splatters, cleavers cleave, bullets spray and bones break, there's very little time to breathe once the story allows for the carnage. Evans directs fight scenes with panache aplenty utilising fantastic stuntwork and shooting techniques that can extend the action without feeling repetitive. He obviously loves the sight of a person being lit up by bullets in slow motion then again, what respecting action fan doesn't? A nightclub sequence is the film's highlight. It's a relentless attack on the senses with long, phenomenally executed fight scenes that eventually spill out onto the snowy, winter streets. Eventually the movie leads to its second and unfortunately final major set piece at Hardy's lakeside cabin which includes a dizzyingly bloody amount of shotgun shells to a myriad of different abdomens. Unfortunately the film doesn't have a solitary villain worthy of note that doesn't offer anything fresh and instead just strolls down the comfortable narrative road of simple vengeance.

Forest Whitaker plays the film's dodgy aforementioned politician with all ten fingers in pies of crime. He doesn't have too much to work with in all honesty and is just there for the ride that culminates in a rather cheesy redemptive resolution. Timothy Olyphant just oozes cool in everything and here he plays a cop colleague of Hardy's who is brilliant as the human embodiment of the proverbial spanner in the works. The A listers are on form, there's little surprise to be found in that observation but it's the relatively unknown trio of Jessie Mei Li as tough as nails good cop Ellie, Justin Cornwell as Whitaker's son Charlie and Quelin Sepulveda as his girlfriend Mia who are the film's beating heart pulled into a situation they wanted no part of but have to endure if they are to survive the night. Luis Guzman was a random yet delightful surprise and even gets to shoot someone point blank in the temple. Badassery incarnate.

Havoc isn't as exhilarating as other films of the same ilk such as Evans' own film The Raid or John Wick and it doesn't do enough with its narrative to justify holding off the heart pounding action for almost an hour but what it lacks in nonstop thrills it makes up for in having a compelling Tom Hardy as its lead. He's just great. He does plenty of beating to a pulp, Mortal Kombat leg sweeping, random Captain America drop kicks and countless shotgun blasts that would make the T-800 jealous. He also gets his ass kicked by a girl, has a ceiling dropped on his head and sits out a good chunk of a huge standoff during the final battle struggling to simply live and it shows that he's still just a man. He's the star of the show and he definitely lives up to it.

It has its fair share of overplayed action tropes, more than one instance of sloppy CGI blood, cars and landscapes and a slightly overcomplicated story that crams in maybe one or two unnecessary characters that threaten to break down the boredom door but its action is immensely violent and fast paced it's almost impossible not to come out of this without some sense of satisfaction.

Bloody. Shooty. Sweary. Hardy. I'm looking forward to watching this again sometime in the future.

This is a better film the second time you watch it because of an ending that's somewhat foreshadowed with subtle and often clever clues that the viewer can easily miss the first time around.

Sam's premonition of a catastrophic bridge collapse ends up saving multiple lives but Death isn't finished with the survivors just yet and picks them off one by one in a series of freak accidents.

At face value this is practically a carbon copy of the original film. Sam (a refreshing Nicholas D'Agosto) has a similar energy to that of Devon Sawa but carries with him a bit more world weariness. The ing characters are much more fleshed out than the other sequels which dictates how we react to the situations Death creates for them. The death scenes themselves are not only pleasing to the horror buff's eye but also laden with some actual horror sorely missing from more than one prior entry.

Personally this is the best of the Final Destination followups but doesn't stray from the same format in any meaninflgful way. For instance there's yet another disaster survivor that doesn't take the subsequent mania too well and wanders down antagonist avenue. You're here for the carnage and the film offers it in abundance and in doing so scrubs away the taste of disappointment left behind by the cartoon 3D mess that was The Final Destination.

Every scene that involves a death is entertaining on some level and each one features good displays of visual and practical effects. Stand out, thrilling moments include the worst trip to the opticians ever, a tense gymnastics routine and a segment that puts the puncture into acupuncture. The bridge collapse itself is drawn out and well executed featuring a genuine gross out moment when David Koechner gets tarred in the face. It's clear that the cartoon farce that was the fourth film is something the filmmakers wanted to erase because the effects are night and day better here just two years on.

The film reintroduces an element of intrigue cleverly disguised as familiarity. Unfortunately on first watch it gets lost in that sea of unoriginality that leaves the viewer only seconds to soak in its twist ending. As mentioned before the second watch allows for these clues to said ending to seep into the narrative via cleverly placed pop culture references and the all round aesthetic which is unbelievably easy to subconsciously ignore upon first viewing. Tony Todd is a very welcome return to form for the series and for the first time in his three physical appearances he has more than one, solitary scene to creepily dump out some exposition.

The aforementioned antagonist angle is actually used to great effect here in the form of discount Tom Cruise, Miles Fisher whose descent into madness helps towards an entertaining finale. That same finale is then expanded upon in a wonderfully poetic full circle moment for the series culminating in an appropriately gory montage of the franchise's gnarliest kills soundtracked by AC/DC.

It doesn't top the original film but it sure eclipses those that immediately followed. These aren't Oscar winning movies by any stretch of the imagination and if I'm being honest they are all the same film only distinguishable by the filmmaking. I'm looking forward to Final Destination: Bloodlines as it can potentially establish a new series that can follow a new(ish) narrative that doesn't need to lean on the previous film's events.

"Let's do this! Two billion people can't be wong. I said wong. You follow me? You get it, you're Chinese."

From David Giler and Walter Hill the producers of the Alien franchise (that includes the two AvP films) comes Southern Comfort, a movie featuring the quickest collective descent into insanity cinema has ever seen. It is however an astonishing display of filmmaking.

During a routine training exercise a platoon of National Guard soldiers are pursued across the Louisiana wilderness by a group of pissed off Cajun fur trappers after stealing their canoes and firing blanks at them.

Even after finishing the film I find myself kinda on the side of the Cajun hunters. One utter dickhead decides to open fire on a group of bewildered fishermen just wondering why their boats have been commandeered. It's an astonishingly ridiculous move. As far as they're concerned it's live ammunition and a band of soldiers have gone rogue on their land. To some degree the ensuing retribution is justified. The soldiers themselves despite being made up of great talent including Powers Boothe, Keith Carradine and Fred Ward are mostly unlikable, trigger happy assholes that openly resort to overt insubordination bordering on mutiny the moment things get hairy. It's this level of incohesiveness that regular men can easily bend to and Southern Comfort embraces this fully.

In less than a day one character paints a cross on his chest and blows up a shack full of dynamite and then just loses all ability to function and is silently walked on a leash for the rest of the film. Fred Ward and his redneck sidekick should never have been armed in the first place and do nothing but further that stance as their plight continues by constantly displaying brazen disobedience. They're not alone. Everyone turns on the commanding officer even though he's the only one thinking strategically and keeping calm which includes both Carradine and Boothe who offer no solutions that manifest whatsoever toward the contrary.

The attacking Cajun hunters are seldom seen and relegated to infrequent, distant shots and quick cuts and aren't fleshed out in any way that would lead me to assume they're the film's antagonists aside from a rather forced moment that sees the soldiers stumble on a macabre, Michael Myers-esque shrine to their fallen comrades. The platoon's numbers are dwindled down thanks to the soldiers' own stupidity. One guy just runs off and drowns in a bog, one guy starts firing wildly into the trees and gets it straight back and one guy goes completely against character and intentionally outnumbers himself like an absolute tit. That all happens within less than five minutes. It feels like an excuse to thin the numbers down to Boothe and Carradine.

The ending sees our mains take refuge in a Cajun society that serves absolutely nothing to the narrative other than to perhaps force a Wicker Man type comparison with its portrayal of nomadic civilization. A folk band provides a deafening and repetitive soundtrack that's just an assault on the ears for what feels like an age. I could have done without the very real, very random and very jarring pig slaughter that you have no choice but to watch as it's cut in with random shots of Powers Boothe stumbling around looking confused.

What I loved was the phenomenal cinematography throughout that fully captures the Louisiana swamplands in all of its beauty. From warm sunsets to ghostly fog the camera work is unquestionably ahead of its time. The sound design is also top notch making me feel like I was traversing the boggy landscape myself with birds chirping and water splashing right in my ears. Creatively, Southern Comfort is a first class example of viceral, realistic cinema.

The entire ordeal is a product of one person's mind boggling decision to open fire on a group of armed strangers after stealing their property. Everyone is great, that has to be said but I just find everyone's manic mental collapse somewhat difficult to believe. Boothe engages in a knife fight and kills someone at the behest of a potential enemy only for it to be revealed he's a well-to-do family man and the aforementioned crackpot who crosses himself is a high school history teacher. They might be going through something traumatic and life threatening, sure but these guys suddenly act like they've been in Vietnam for a decade after one day in the woods...then again, this might be the point. These aren't men fully regimented by the military around the clock, they have regular jobs.

Shot to absolute perfection and hands down one of the most gorgeous films of its time. Unfortunately it just doesn't offer characters to sympathise with or rally behind but they sure do entertain.

I'm meant to not want Topher Grace to die, right? Hot damn he is the most excruciatingly annoying enger a plane could have. Mel Gibson cleverly adds a rapey undertone to Wahlberg's character so that I don't end up siding with him.

An Air Marshall (a great Michelle Dockery) transporting a fugitive (an almost intolerable Topher Grace) to trial aboard a small, private plane over the Alaskan wilderness come into conflict with the plane's pilot (an unhinged Mark Wahlberg) when he reveals himself to be working for the very man Grace can send to jail.

This is far and away Mel Gibson's least grandiose picture to date from the battle worn Scottish Highlands in Braveheart and the vibrant, luscious jungles of Latin America in Apocalypto to a claustrophobic plane ride over a snowy wasteland here in Flight Risk. It's a very basic narrative that relies on some infrequent moments of chaotic madness to keep things exciting backed up with some obvious foreshadowing. The script is pretty bland and aside from our three main cast everyone else provides via radio and the voice acting never feels like it's organic. It all feels rather, excuse me, phoned in. The side plot regarding Grace's crime is of very little interest considering the current situation yet it dominates every scene where Wahlberg isn't unconscious like I'm supposed to give a shit. I just didn't.

Wahlberg proves a decent villain whenever he isn't knocked out by tasers or flare guns and shows that he can actually carry a movie by himself. He's the best thing about Flight Risk but he's just not utilised enough and the movie constantly focuses on a story that we the viewer have absolutely no shares in.

The finale is just randomly mental out of nowhere when Dockery finally has to land the plane. Suddenly it's dizzying quick cuts of speeding ambulances, a gruesome handcuff removal, a CGI plane spinning out of control spitting tyres at vehicles, a graceful landing after being thrown onto concrete at high speed and a quickly resolved assassination angle. It all feels a bit rushed or at the very least just an excuse to liven up the third act.

This is just OK. The witness plotline drags down an otherwise half enjoyable thriller but a spirited performance from Michelle Dockery and a gloriously hammy yet menacingly batshit Mark Wahlberg keep things from fully nosediving.

Mel Gibson is better than this though as this film feels like it was the product of a first time director, not from the man behind The ion of the Christ.

90s music icons Jennifer Lopez and Ice Cube playing a clichéd 'black guy out of water' fight a giant snake in the Amazon rainforest with Hansel, Jumanji's dad and Jon Voight who has consistent, unwavering rape face that just screams "I'm the bad guy."

Whilst en route to an Amazonian tribe, a documentary crew are forced to bend to the will of a maniacal hunter who'll stop at nothing to capture the largest snake known to man.

Almost thirty years later and I'm still not sure what accent accompanies the words out of Voight's mouth but he plays a good bad guy that for some reason drags his inevitable deception out for over forty five minutes even though we, the viewer are slapped around the face with it from the get go. The first act slithers its way to some actual entertainment utilising some classically dated yet charming 90s CGI that doesn't hold up at all but is able enough. It's a formulaic 'pick em off one by one' affair once someone finally dies that everyone has seen before.

Lopez does a fine enough job with the stagnant material she has to work with as do Ice Cube and the strangely underused Eric Stoltz who spends 75% of the movie incapacitated. Owen Wilson plays a typical pre-leading man, comic relief role and is there to ultimately bolster the cannon fodder but nobody really stands out other than Voight who despite coming off a little cartoony at times he really does go for it and delivers some real menace. He unashamedly dips his toes precariously in the 'so bad it's good' pool though.

The practical effects are unquestionably awesome though and real care and attention went toward bringing a behemoth snake like an anaconda to the big screen. Unfortunately, being a creature-feature from 1997 the movie relies heavily on it's now dated special effects in almost every scene in which the titular beast appears. An opening text roll before the title card foreshadows the famous third act regurgitation scene that's far and away the best part of the movie. It still looks great and couldn't happen to a nicer character. The entire finale serves as somewhat of a showcase of both the film's best special and practical effects and they contribute massively to a decent showdown. The wink will always be stupid though.

All of the kill scenes have the same strike and wrap effect as each other just shot slightly differently each time which is fair considering an anaconda's realistic abilities and the best example used is during an entertaining waterfall sequence.

Anaconda is acceptable enough 90s yarn that's as by the numbers as an abacus. It even has Ice Cube plunging a pickaxe into a snake's face and calling it a bitch.

"Last time I was in waters like this I was up all night picking leeches off my scrotum."

This series follows the reverse Star Trek rule in that the even numbered Final Destination movies are the weakest and the odd numbered films are the strongest. It's 2009 so of course it's a nauseating 3D nightmare like so many other crappy horror movies of the time.

After Nick (a bland Bobby Campo) has a premonition of a catastrophic race-car accident at a speedway stadium the resulting carnage once again forces Death to hunt down those who shouldn't have survived in a myriad of convoluted ways.

This one is hands down the shittest of the lot with some of the worst CGI/3D effects of the decade and easily the worst opening premonition scene that's a cartoony mess rife with terrible dialogue, awful effects and some shitty acting not to mention the way Nick reacts to the premonition with a simple leg squeeze. Devon Sawa's and Mary Elizabeth Winstead's reactions are something I felt in my soul. David R. Ellis returns as director after Final Destination 2 and delivers another lazy entry completely devoid of any horror or intrigue. The film leans on its lame death scenes which pale in comparison to any other franchise entry. They are all preceded by dizzying, mini premonitions from Nick that are just excuses to abuse the 3D format and boy do they abuse it. None of it looks remotely good or organically used and just taints the series.

Imagine making a movie called The Final Destination and it being so bad producers are forced to make a fifth. This isn't creative, none of its crappy fratboy humour lands and the deaths aren't worthy of note at all aside from maybe the douchebag who gets his innards sucked out of his asshole in the pool. A racist bellend is dragged by his truck whilst on fire with 'Why Can't We Be Friends' appropriately playing over it, a lady says "I've got my eye on you!" right before a bolt blasts through...you guessed it and another unlikeable prick says "I guess it's not my time to die." right before he's diced through a fence in another display of poor CGI. Fuck me, the cartoon blood gets annoying real fast. It all looks so bad and almost every scene uses it so brazenly I can't help but imagine the inept animators jizzing their pants thinking they'd made something worthy of release.

There's no story. We've seen it three times already yet this one still manages to insult the series with another poorly written lead and ing characters. It feels so much like Final Destination 2 for these reasons. Again it plays out mostly in the day, the silly plotline of not being able to commit suicide is back and once more each death scene has a comedic layer over it that just saps away any remaining thread of horror the film has left.

I'm struggling to think of a redeeming quality. The script sucks, the effects suck, the practical gore looks incredibly cheap, the acting is bland across the board and the premonition is the worst yet. The clues and hints that usually keep the story going are so forced and in your face it just starts to make the film something of a parody of the series rather than a worthy sequel. Final Destination 2 also evoked these exact feelings but at least that had Tony Todd and Ali Larter. This movie lacks any physical connection to previous entries. I did like the heavy metal, x-ray opening credits I can't lie but if that's the best thing about a movie then you've made a shit movie.

This can easily be ignored in a series marathon and it probably will be in future. Then again what else did I expect from the man behind Shark Night 3D and Snakes on a Plane.

Holy shit this would have made a fantastic Jack Ryan movie and Kurt Russell would have made a fantastic Jack Ryan. Personally I'd have cast him over Harrison Ford. Executive Decision is a kick-ass mid 90s action caper that gets almost everything right.

When terrorists seize control of a enger plane heading for Washington with a destructive nerve agent intelligence analyst David Grant (a typically awesome Kurt Russell) accompanies a squad of soldiers led by Lt. Colonel Travis (a rare tolerable Steven Seagal performance) aboard a prototype jet to intercept.

Stuart Baird directs (the first of only three films) with a story and screenplay from Predator writers Jim and John Thomas. It has the 1990s slathered all over it like butter on toast with frequent examples of state of the art technology like...Windows 95 and pixilated video calls were apparently the pinnacle of late 20th century innovation. The infiltration is handled brilliantly with a taut, creative boarding sequence that heightens the tension to no end. The subsequent reconnaissance setup is equally impressive which sees the team discreetly navigate the plane placing bugs and cameras.

Seagal gets to showcase his manly running skills looking like an inflatable, waving, tube man but infinitely gayer. He's also panting for air after jogging twenty feet. The man's an utter fraud whose recent portfolio is so bad I can only assume his career is a money laundering front but to be fair he wasn't too bad in the 90s. Without the success of Under Siege he's nothing and luckily for everyone his screentime is limited.

With that weird rant out of the way, a fairly stacked 90s cast get a lot to do in a series of tense scenes with Oliver Platt and Joe Morton attempting to disarm a bomb, the gorgeous Halle Berry as a spirited flight attendant assisting Russell on the downlow and John Leguizamo taking charge eager to kill him some bad guys. Speaking of the bad guys I can't imagine this movie was played anywhere in the US around Autumn 2001. It's strangely prophetic with a London terror attack and a hijacked plane both undertaken by a middle-eastern terrorist cell. David Suchet provides the film's primary antagonist introduced in a really weird flashback, dreamlike montage and does just fine although doesn't display nearly enough menace for my liking. Suchet is a household name here in England where he played Hercule Poirot for years. He's underwritten but played with committed gusto and sometimes that's enough.

Incredibly tense. That's a good way of describing Executive Decision but that's not to say it's without a few clichés of the time, some cheesy dialogue, a patriotic score complete with horns and snare drums and an overtly Hollywood ending that's foreshadowed seconds into the film but I do like that it at least feels somewhat plausible. The jet's pilot is forced to eject during the boarding procedure and the movie completely forgets that he parachuted quite literally over the middle of the Atlantic ocean. I'm sure he wasn't shat out of a shark and is just fine. These are minor complaints though because ultimately I was thoroughly entertained throughout. Kurt Russell kicks all the ass and leaves with Halle Berry in the back of car all smiles complete with a song Michael Bublé has definitely covered like it's the end of Die Hard 2. That kind of familiarity works for me.

God damn I wish this was a Jack Ryan movie.

"I think we're looking up the ass-end of a dead dog but it's worth a try."

Oh, the 1980s! The gloriously boob heavy PG era of films that unashamedly offers both casual racism and sexual innuendo in abundance to any child with a parent present.

The Cannonball Run is a live action Wacky Races with a marvellously moustachioed Burt Reynolds and the ever regal Roger Moore who plays both himself and James Bond in equal measure in a bizarrely meta role. A wide array of eccentric characters participate in an illegal cross-country road race using underhanded tactics and tricks to win.

Slapstick comedies were all the rage following the success of Airplane! and The Cannonball Run certainly rides the same tracks. Though considerably less funny and enjoyable it's carried by committed performances, a couple of genuinely great running jokes, tits aplenty and a random as fuck Jackie Chan trying to watch porn whilst driving a tiny Subaru at 120mph. Farrah Fawcett is also here as a bimbo who loves trees and has someone on set to ice her nipples constantly because every time she's on screen they're either at full attention or being perved at by the movie's weaselly antagonist. Tara Buckman and Adrienne Barbeu are also utilised to a similar and much more blatant effect driving a Lamborghini in catsuits using their respective racks to get out of speeding tickets. Hey, as a straight, red blooded male I can't say I'm complaining. Boobs for the win.

The story is pretty nonexistent outside of the race itself with the primary focus being on Reynolds and his team which includes a zany performance from Jack Elam as Doctor Van Helsing who's goblin like demeanour earns a hilarious church organ blast every time his character is revealed ala Quasimodo or the Phantom of the Opera. Roger Moore's whole involvement occurs whilst he's balls deep in his Bond run and the movie doesn't shy away from this. Bond's guitar theme plays every time he's onscreen which gets boring pretty quickly but what rescues an otherwise incredibly forced 'special appearance' if you will is that his Bond girl driving companion changes about five times throughout the movie and evoked an actual laugh out loud once I noticed. Dom Deluise and Rat Pack duo Sammy Davis Jr. and Dean Martin offer some great but it's the latter who steals the show as a drunk priest who's more than delighted at the thought of blessing Farrah Fawcett and bumbles his way through the film so convincingly I'm still questioning if Dean Martin was actually shitfaced.

A lot of the characters are pretty forgettable and are only there to beef up the numbers and be involved in the odd comedic stunt. The action itself is pretty tame even for the early 80s and everything looks so obviously sped up it becomes funny for the wrong reasons. The jokes might be more miss than hit but all in all there's an undeniable charm to The Cannonball Run thanks to a few half decent characters and its lighthearted tone.

It's far from great and it's ending is pretty whack considering the entire movie follows one basic plot line but it does just enough right in the chest department that conceals a lot of its cheesy, unfunny humour.

- "I'm Nikolas Van Helsing, professor of proctology and other related tendencies, a graduate of the University of Rangoon and assorted night classes at the Knoxville, Tennessee School of Faith Healing."

- "I think you may be a little overqualified for this job."

I intentionally chose to rewatch this after I'd been to Thorpe Park so I didn't needlessly fret over being split in two on Colossus. Final Destination 3 may have the least entertaining opening premonition up to this point although the build up to it is appropriately eery and that includes a spooky opening credits sequence but the movie is carried along nicely by creative deaths and a great lead performance from Mary-Elizabeth Winstead, something severely lacking from the previous movie.

Unintentionally, this is my 100th review.

While at a theme park, graduating high school student Wendy (a franchise best lead performance from Winstead) has a premonition of a fatal roller-coaster crash that kills everyone on board. Sure enough, the resulting disaster kicks off a chain of events that sees the survivors mysteriously killed by an unseen force.

All of these movies are the same. Someone has a premonition of a huge disaster, they remove themselves and others from danger, the disaster happens, the survivors are subsequently killed in a series of strange scenarios. The only difference being some inane, inconceivable change to Death's design that only makes sense in movie world. The first film's director James Wong returns to helm the second sequel and I'm pretty sure he intentionally doesn't acknowledge the second film (aside from one blink and you'll miss it photo) which in all fairness I don't blame him for. He returns some actual horror back to the series sorely missing from Final Destination 2. The writing is light years better too that really allows Winstead to show off her talents. She's fucking awesome.

This time hints and clues to the forthcoming mayhem come in the form of photographs which I like for the most part. It helps form a somewhat engaging narrative that's not too different and not too similar. It sets up a slew of entertaining deaths to come and keeps things ticking along.

Each film is seemingly ed for one or two particular scenes, in this case it's the two, titted bints that get cooked alive in their sunbeds (the transition from sunbeds to coffins is straight up first class) which is one of the hardest to watch moments of the franchise. Final Destination 3 literally goes for the head. They get chopped up, squished and nailed and so on and so forth in a host of entertaining sequences from a cool warehouse scene to a roid raged gym segment.

Aside from good performances from Winstead and Ryan Merriman (fresh from the awful Halloween Resurrection) the series format doesn't allow for consistent story originality and thus serves to lure viewers in with inventive kills and very little else. Then again that's my number one requirement from films of this nature so it's not really a heavy complaint. I enjoy the third film considerably more than the second (which I was too kind to) and it ends on a much less cartoony vibe and adds the series' bleakest finale up to this point with a creative fuck you to your expectations.

Extra points for having Tony Todd providing some well placed voiceover work in a couple of scenes that bookend the film and for name dropping Spongebob and Osama Bin Laden...twice!

"OK, what if for example, the last in line were to make the utilitarian choice? Kill themselves. Well, wow! That's pretty much gonna ruin any plan Death's put in motion. And even better, I think that's gonna save, five skipped lives. Any takers?"

After watching a swathe of time killing shite lately, tonight I decided I'd go with something a little more sophisticated, so I went with a film where Ned Beatty gets bummed by the Murfree Brood in the woods whilst squealing like a pig.

Deliverance tells the story of four men's fight for survival against hillbillies whilst on a canoeing trek along the Cahulawassee River weeks before it's dammed and turned into a lake.

Holy shit if I ever here banjos in the woods I'm bailing way too fast to be seen by the naked eye. Burt Reynolds, Jon Voight, a pre-villain typecast Ronny Cox and the aforementioned Ned Beatty are all just fantastic throughout. Reynolds takes the lead as outdoor enthusiast, Lewis who rocks a lesbian haircut and has cut a wet suit into a vest. He chews cigars and shoots a bow and my badassery quota has been filled. An injury allows Jon Voight to take the lead and is forced to face adversity as the everyman in a life or death situation. The movie switches the leading man role in an extremely believable way thanks to a great Jon Voight who really sells his average Joe persona. It's a great narrative contrast from Burt Reynolds whose calmness in deadly situations has already been established so watching Voight struggle with confidence built up a solid amount of palpable tension.

Famous for two scenes, the Duelling Banjos opening and the previously stated assault. The former is one of the finest sequences I've seen for a while that not only emphasises the calm before the storm but also subtly foreshadows the group's 'duel' with the lurking threat ahead. The latter isn't as hard to watch now as I imagine it was fifty years ago thanks to directors like Rob Zombie who puts scenes like this in his movies for no reason. It's still difficult to endure thanks to believable performances from everyone involved and Burt Reynolds' awesome aim is a welcome relief.

The film then kicks off a moral questioning string of dilemmas for the lads once the situation has been dealt with that cracks open each of the characters' true selves in the face of death. Ronny Cox is superb and stands true to his beliefs that the law is there for a reason and not one of them, including himself is above it even though the situation they find themselves doesn't paint them in an innocent light. Everyone is on point in Deliverance to such a huge degree that it's easy to lose track of time and just get drawn in to the performances that carry the film as if in an eery trance.

The director of Exorcist II: The Heretic delivers a taut tale of survival in an unforgiving wilderness that is so beautifully shot it's incredible. The cinematography is deliriously good, phenomenally good. It feels like we're right there with the boys as the traverse the rapids and navigate the harsh mountains ed by some outrageously beautiful aerial shots that fully capture an awe-inspiring backcountry landscape.

It's also a film that follows the character's as they try to get back to their normal lives and how they adjust after such a traumatic experience. Most survival films of this type are happy to tie things in a pretty bow of a fade to black or freeze frame but Deliverance strays from the herd with a great sequence with Jon Voight that hammers home the struggle of coming to with such life changing events. A random, five second nightmare is jarringly great and tells us that this is going to stay with him for a very long time. Happy endings are not always guaranteed despite how it may appear at face value. The film's final shot cements this.

This is a fantastic film powered by superb performances, astonishing cinematography and a believable story of survival.

- "We beat it didn't we? Didn't we beat that?"

"You don't beat it. You don't beat this river."

Who is responsible for continually allowing Don Michael Paul to make Tremors movies? His films don't have a shred of originality between them. This time it's Jurassic Park meets Predator but once again criminally less entertaining. It's better than A Cold Day in Hell but in all honesty that's not saying much.

When a rich biotechnology mogul with a penchant for big game hunting genetically modifies graboid eggs and unleashes them on a private island, the ensuing chaos warrants the attention of survivalist Burt Gummer (a returning Michael Gross) who sets out to exterminate the graboid infestation along with their dangerous kin, an army of shriekers.

The absence of Jamie Kennedy already elevates this sequel and adding Jon Heder and Richard Brake has a similar effect. Heder is annoying in his own right to be fair to Kennedy. He constantly spouts pop-movie references and along with most of the cast, is given nothing but metaphors to regurgitate. The script is still piss poor but lightyears ahead of its immediate predecessor. The action is once again laced with nauseating quick cuts, more overt use of slow motion, invasive close-ups and a lame, generic action score. Yet again the creatures themselves are entirely CGI and lacking any practical design whatsoever. They look fine, sure but I really don't know why these three movies stray so far away from the original designs. The shriekers are mostly limited to shaking bushes and distant screeches. This isn't Jurassic Park and the obvious velociraptor similarities is just more unforgivable laziness these three films are riddled with.

The connection to the original movies died with Bloodlines which was able at best. Now it's just blatant references that are about as organic as plastic. "Who are Val and Earl?" Oh, fuck off. I'm thankful at least for Michael Gross who still has terrible material to work with but is much more tolerable this time around. He carries the franchise but that's not say he hasn't overdone it once or twice. Brake and Heder provide the villain and sidekick angles the recent films insist on having and in fairness, play them with gusto. Everyone else is once again completely forgettable and that includes 80% of the survivors.

Strip down all of the coma inducing slow motion and this film is forty minutes long. All of the action scenes are pretty much indistinguishable from the other and the film funnily enough relies heavily on them yet they just aren't exciting enough to warrant abandoning an engaging plot. It ends as stupidly as you could imagine with an obvious and massively played out 'goodbye' of sorts but it lands like a lead balloon because everyone else is just so insignificant in the grand scheme of things so it just feels forced. Having a sombre country song playing over a montage of classic clips doesn't work on me, Don Michael Paul.

The last three Tremors films are certainly a slog to get through despite their modest runtimes. All of them are rife with awful scripts, cringy delivery, boring deaths and terrible humour. There's very little enjoyment to be found among the wreckage. Tremors: Shrieker Island finally puts the nail in the franchise coffin...for now at least. This might be somewhat more enjoyable than the last two but your kidding yourself if you think that isn't entirely down to the much better movies it riffs on. I'm glad it's finally over and I can remove them from my head-canon and try to forget they exist.

I love this franchise. I don't love these last three films.

I went into this completely blind. No trailers. No synopsis. Just a poster remarkably similar to Nobody. I'm a fan of Jack Quaid so I was confident of a great performance from him regardless.

Novocaine (not the 2001 film where Steve Martin bangs Helena Bonham-Carter) starring Jack Quaid as a bloke who has a rare condition where he can't feel pain starts brightly enough and then is carried by a swathe of inventive, entertaining action sequences and great performances across the board.

An average Joe uses his rare condition to his advantage when the woman he loves is kidnapped during a violent bank robbery. Pursuing those responsible armed with his inability to feel pain, Nathan Caine (a phenomenal Jack Quaid) will stop at nothing to save her.

I had a really good time with this although it doesn't quite pick a lane. Is it an action comedy or a dramatic thriller? The third act leans heavily towards the former whereas the first hour or so leans to the latter. Jack Quaid and Amber Midthunder are utterly fantastic and I was genuinely charmed by their brilliantly portrayed burgeoning romance. The bank robbery is jarringly violent and switches the vibe entirely and sets off the insanely creative chain of events that very seldom let up.

Quaid sells everything with his boyish, introverted awkwardness that compliments his use of his condition to no end. From a chaotic kitchen knife fight to a frankly hilarious torture sequence Novacaine delivers the thrills that evoke the rare combo of wincing and laughter. That's often the case here to be honest. This is unashamedly gory in places but with our lead's condition it hits differently knowing he's not feeling any of it.

Ray Nicholson (son of Jack. This is Nepotism: The Movie it seems) is our villain who is otherwise forgettable if not for a second act revelation that although lands well doesn't seem necessary and serves only to try and keep him interesting. It just about pays off in fairness. He's a prick and one who's not afraid to murder anyone in his way. Jacob Batalon (of MCU Spider-Man fame) provides the additional levity that plays well with Quaid as his online gaming pal he's never met but finds himself massively in the shit with. Their entire dynamic is played for laughs but has a nice message of male comradery. Amber Midthunder is a real talent and has shown great versatility in her fledgling career and she is on great form here as Nate's kidnapped love.

Everything boils down to a typically formulaic finale and it does show late signs of action fatigue not to mention the almost in your face convenience benefiting Nate throughout but it does more than enough with its superbly choreographed fight scenes and awe inspiring stunt work. It's a real blast anchored by some truly great performances and clear dedication and love for the action craft. Not a bad way to spend a Wednesday night at all.

"I'll just go fuck myself."

This movie is famous for one thing and that's the logs ploughing through the cop's face. Other than that this is a bland sequel that just about drags itself over the line with some creative kills and very little else. Final Destination 2 sticks extremely close to Randy's sequel rules from Scream 2. Higher body count, more elaborate deaths and never assume the killer is dead. In this case the third rule is 'never assume you've cheated death'.

Kimberley (A.J Cook) has a premonition of a catastrophic highway pile up whilst travelling with friends which becomes an immediate reality soon after. Having prevented her friends and several others from ing traffic Death itself soon starts righting its wrongs by taking the survivors one by one.

Final Destination 2 is basically the same movie as its predecessor but takes place entirely in the day (because that's a smart choice for a horror movie), switches Death's already ridiculous design and has a really poor main character. Gone are the creepy shadows that preceded each death in the first in favour of some sort of lame wind blowing. The premonition itself is the highlight of the film and is appropriately much more batshit than flight 180, but nowhere near as unsettling. Who knew every vehicle can explode just from heavy impact? I didn't. It's not without its unfeasible convenience and almost offensively in your face clues. One kid is literally smashing two, toy cars together while smiling like a tiny psycho, AC/DC's Highway to Hell is on the radio and a school bus full of student athletes are heard chanting "Pile up! Pile up!".

Thereafter things become extremely bereft of intrigue and suspense. Yes, the expected deaths are indeed creative but almost a little corny. The ladder impaling a human skull from one foot away, the barb wire fence dicing the cokehead into cutlets, the elevator decapitation literally done in Resident Evil the previous year and the pane of glass flattening the kid are all pleasing to the eye but are a little dumb if you overthink them. Also, the dentist scene is weirdly similar to a scene in Finding fucking Nemo.

The change to Death's design serves no real significance to proceedings and is only there to differentiate it from the first film. The late, great Tony Todd once again returns as the only mortician in America just to add another two minutes to his overall screen time bringing his total to...about four minutes or so. He's a lot weirder here too, not necessarily in a good way but his mere presence alone elevates the entire picture. Ali Larter returns as the sole survivor of flight 180 after Alex was killed between movies by a falling brick which I both love and hate for reasons I can't articulate right now. She's a lot bitchier this time around and completely abandons her carefully regimented caution to help Kimberley...do what exactly? Her role isn't needed but it's certainly welcome as she's far and away the best thing about Final Destination 2. The characters aren't that fleshed out and are inexplicably divided into singular personalities completely different from one another but are all tied to events of the first film. I liked that.

There's a lot of stupid shit I can't overlook such as a cop unknowingly pointing his loaded sidearm at cinema's most unimportant pregnant lady, some douchebag not realising a two inch fridge magnet has fallen into his noodles and Kimberley jumping to stupid conclusions every time she has a vision. I maintain she gets the kid killed by yelling "Pigeons!" like a knob. Clear also has everyone leaning into her instant conclusions by talking so matter of factly about some stupid 'outward ripple' in the design. It all winds down to a predictable enough ending that is lacking any of my interest at this point. The entire story reeks of laziness and the focus clearly wasn't on any noticeable narrative. It favours style over substance and it just about gets away with it. It's about as scary as candy floss and has a shoddy script but it gets enough right with it's creativity and well shot death sequences that really did entertain.

Honestly, it's close to two stars but I'm a sucker for an early 2000s rock soundtrack and a good dismemberment. Tony Todd and Ali Larter's respective returns are good enough reasons to be kind to Final Destination 2. The energies of Devon Sawa and Sean William-Scott are very missed here. Not great, not quite bad either, David R. Ellis' 2003 sequel is a fun enough followup to a superior original.

"If he gives me the gas and I wake up with my pants unbuttoned, we ain't payin'!"

After the overwhelmingly disappointing Burt Gummer: When Nature Calls we now have Tremors On Ice, both brought to you by the director of Kindergarten Cop 2 and I've hereby lost all the remaining faith I forced myself to have in this 'Don Michael Paul Trilogy'. I don't care how old you are, this far into the 21st century it's just unacceptable to use 'dickweed' as an insult three times in two minutes.

When a graboid attack kills three scientists in the Canadian Arctic, survivalist Burt Gummer (Michael Gross) and his son, the human embodiment of annoying, Travis (Jamie Kennedy once again practically playing himself) leave their comfort zone to save the day.

Three minutes in and this couldn't resist a blatant reference to The Thing that for some irrational reason just pissed me off. I knew what I was likely going to be in for. That wasn't long before the introduction of Valerie, the daughter of Val and Rhonda that just feels incredibly forced and I just resigned myself to just accepting this was going to be the same film as Bloodlines but with a bit of snow and some bullshit subplot about a parasitic infection...and endless terrible jokes. Jamie Kennedy is somehow more infuriating this time around listing off an insufferable amount of Southern metaphors, one-liners rejected by Uwe Boll and pervy pick up lines that just sound ridiculous coming from a man pushing 50. Michael Gross hams it up constantly throughout almost matching Kennedy's manic energy and penchant for corny line delivery. Everyone else, and there's a lot of them all take turns with expositional dialogue intertwined with some cringy metaphors. It's literally 90 minutes of this. It gets boring real fast.

There's nothing to the story. Graboids attack, people are dumb, somehow Burt is sick, there's another skipped metamorphosis. All that's new is the Arctic setting and it's barely noticeable other than in the opening (which I'm assuming was the costliest segment) and in the background. There's nothing to this movie whatsoever.

Where Bloodlines was fairly liberal with its franchise references, A Cold Day in Hell regurgitates them every five minutes and very few of them feel naturally placed. Even the title is a reference to a throwaway Burt line from Tremors 3: Back to Perfection. Once again all of the action is plastered in dramatic slow motion where you see nothing but frantic close ups of screaming faces and the overacted reactions of unimportant side characters not worth a mention. The script fucking sucks. It fucking sucks. None of the comedy lands whatsoever. The CGI looks completely recycled from Bloodlines and that's not the only thing. Burt makes another alcoholic pilot friend called on to help, there's the same amount of piss, the same graboid design that nobody likes and the same abandonment of the shriekers. It's a real slog and completely joyless.

I did like the Perfection setting during the first act with a couple of tidy nods to Tremors 3 and the finale features a half decent graboid capture that utilises some welcome practical effects for the first time in the film. Other than that it's just a carbon copy of Bloodlines but switches the creatures.

This is shit. I don't have it in me to give this one star. I haven't yet logged a one star film in my short time here but fuuuck me was I close. Really close.

I've been lingering over this on Netflix for a few weeks now and decided to give it a shot. This was a decent, little revenge thriller from Northern Ireland that while derivative as all hell, is carried by the sheer weight of its performances. It does suddenly become Taken out of nowhere and thinks it ends on a poignant note but personally, it just seems downright unfinished.

Donal, a reserved, fifty-something, Northern Irish farmer (a truly great Nigel O'Neill) sets off on a mission of revenge when his mother is murdered at his home. When a botched assassination attempt on Donal backfires, an unlikely partnership is formed to take down those responsible for his mother's death but things run so much deeper than Donal could have thought.

This was OK. O'Neill is hands down the driving force of the film with a frankly superb portrayal of a man whose life has been turned upside down and further adds to his woes by reluctantly delving deeper and deeper into a nasty criminal organisation that operates in sex slavery. The unlikely partnership is formed after a randomly funny, bungled hanging attempt that sees the stool kicked out from under Donal just for him to land on his feet. From there he beats a car into a man's head with a sledgehammer, as you do. The remaining 'assassin', Bartosz (a solid performance from unknown Józef Pawlowski) reveals that his sister is in the hands of those who sent him and thus the movie can continue.

The villains of the story are overly cartoonish. Frankie (a batshit Susan Lynch) runs the organisation and is as unhinged as a baboon on speed often breaking out in maniacal anger and fits of insane violence. At one point she beats a man's head in with an iron screaming "Cunt!" endlessly. Her simp sidekick, Trevor looks dapper in a suit and is there to repeatedly show the audience who's in charge and it certainly isn't him. Their seemingly unclear motives dredge up some intrigue in an otherwise overtly familiar narrative but some revelations down the line just render Donal's fury somewhat moot. It's a real shame.

As great as everyone is and they are indeed great, it doesn't shake off the fact that this has been done so many times to greater effect. It's just another revenge movie. It does try to be somewhat fancier with a couple of abstract, dream sequences with a tiny dusting of David Lynch and an ending that for me, doesn't land effectively enough. Yes there are expected resolutions but it's still left open thanks to some strange writing choices that see a character make a massively random and unbelievable decision judging by their established character arc. Thinking about it again, it kind of annoys me. Then the credits roll and I'm left with the sour taste of dissatisfaction in my mouth. It's an ending that seems to try to be different and ambiguous but instead just leaves a few of its ends needlessly loose.

It does however have a great script, plenty of meaty dialogue sequences that do well to build intrigue and character motives, a great interrogation scene in a crappy, old camper van parked in the woods, some well handled violence and some fantastic cinematography. A lot works in Bad Day for the Cut which is partly thanks to the general revenge format groundwork having been laid over the past sixty years and mostly thanks to O'Neill and Pawlowski.

- "Both of youse can get out. Right here and now!

- "We're on the side of the road!"

- "I was gonna shoot you in my shed when we first met, so you're not doing too bad!"

Come for a great Mel Gibson. Stay for one of the best, random throat punches in cinematic history.

Riding high after the phenomenon that was 1995's Braveheart, everything was coming up Melhouse. I enjoyed Ransom, a taut kidnap thriller from Bryce Dallas Howard's dad that utilises a fantastic cast and a sharp script but suffers from a sloppy ending and being perhaps fifteen/twenty minutes too long.

When the son of multimillionaire airline owner, Tom Mullen (an incredible Mel Gibson) is kidnapped by shady cop Jimmy Shaker (a more than reliable Gary Sinise) what starts out as a seemingly simple two million dollar ransom is doubled and offered as a bounty when evidence suggests there are no intentions to let the boy live.

I'll reiterate that the performances are high quality across the board from a top cast including Delroy Lindo, Rene Russo, New Kid on the Block, Donnie Wahlberg and a young Liev Schreiber that has a much meatier role than he had in Scream the same year. Nick Nolte's kid, Brawley does a fine job as kidnapped Sean and really sells a moment of paralysed fear during the climax. Wahlberg's arc is the most interesting aside from Gibson and Sinise by sympathising with Sean but unfortunately it goes absolutely nowhere.

The movie has two prominent halves, one of desperation the other of paternal fury. Once the ransom is doubled and flipped as a bounty following a great TV network news appearance scene the movie loses its way a tad. The director of Cocoon was never going to kill a kid so the plot soon runs out of longevity and quickly wraps up the kidnap element of the story in favour of a cat and mouse finale. The inevitable reunion falls incredibly flat considering the unthinkable stakes and the film never really recovers from it. Gibson and Sinise ending up carrying the movie over the finish line with committed, believable performances that hold a wonky ending together. There's the typical cliché of hearing a phrase uttered earlier in the film that crops up again to help Gibson figure things out and the usual subsequent chase intertwined with a bit of fisticuffs. It all ended up feeling a touch cartoonish and forced after such a gripping opening two acts.

Gibson conveys such a true representation of parental despair it's genuinely quite moving at times and that's perfectly mirrored by an increasingly unhinged performance from Gary Sinise creating a first rate hero/villain dynamic that, as mentioned before carries the movie in the end. Delroy Lindo deserves a mention as the experienced FBI agent secretly assigned to the case but it really feels like he's only there so Gibson can disagree with his twenty years of sound advice and be constantly rewarded for his recklessness. It never feels like the worst could ever really happen without some really random and terrible writing. Instead it settles on a tacked on Hollywood ending to add excitement to a film waning my interest.

Anyway at least it killed any remaining stench of graboid shit that was today's earlier watch, Tremors 5: Bloodlines...so thanks Ron Howard for that.

"You paid off to save your airline. Why won't you pay off to save your son?"

This one stings each time I revisit it and I only do so because I'm not one for leaving marathons unfinished. Without Stampede Entertainment you lose the essence and spirit of the Tremors films. Having a director who'd never seen a single Tremors film prior to making this didn't fill me with confidence upon release either. It starts brightly enough but it sways on the tracks quickly before derailing altogether thereafter.

The news of a reported ass-blaster attack in South Africa reaches renoun survivalist Burt Gummer (the only remotely acceptable quality this has) who along with his reluctantly appointed new cameraman, Travis (a typically manic and often annoying Jamie Kennedy) accept a call to arms and set off for The Cradle of Humankind to save the day. Soon it becomes clear that a much more dangerous African variant of graboid is at play.

There's very little connection to the original movies other than stock footage mashed into an exposition dump of an intro disguised as one of Burt's survival videos. The original graboid design is abandoned completely in favour of a jazzed up, seldom seen CGI cartoon although the actual effects aren't bad at all and naturally eclipse the CGI that came before. The ass-blaster is the only discernable creature with a practical model but it's rarely used, barely visible and often animated. The deaths are poorly shot, poorly choreographed and you don't see anything through the nauseating shaky cam approach.

This movie has a fucking villain, a boring familial revelation that serves only to cement further sequels, little to no excitement and focuses on everyone's least favourite graboid metamorphosis in the ass-blasters which are still ridiculous no matter how modern and sleek they may look here. This just does not feel like a Tremors movie at all. It feels more like a played straight version of Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls with the occasional ripped off Jurassic Park similarity thrown in for good measure. Everybody has seen this movie before in one way or another.

What worked so well in the previous movies was a great comfort blanket of humour that complimented every character. Tremors 5 is devoid of any originality or even the slightest chuckle. That's not to say it's not snappy here and there or without the odd half decent moment but it's so damn derivative, almost unashamedly so. None of the side characters are worthy of note (maybe aside from an eccentric old pilot), they're all underdeveloped and are just there to beef up the runtime. Jamie Kennedy plays exactly the type of character you'd expect him to, which never strays too far from Randy in Scream. He's a hard protagonist to really get behind with his overt sarcasm and constant ribbing of Burt not to mention a slew of crappy one liners that don't ever land.

This is the best of a crappy trio of Tremors films I've dubbed the 'Don Michael Paul Trilogy' and that's not saying much, if this didn't have the Tremors moniker I'd probably have a better time with its style. I'm annoyed that I have to sit through the next two showers of shit that just further insult the overall series. At least this one isn't egregious with its series references that to be fair work quite well and are often subtle. The worm zapping foreshadowing isn't terrible either but results in a cringy, slow motion, bullshitty finale that once again just doesn't feel like Tremors.

I totally get why some people are fond of Bloodlines but it just doesn't gel with me. It rips off far too much from better movies, it even rips off a Jurassic Park III subplot for crying out loud. As I mentioned before, there's just no originality.

It was the old man's choice for movie night and he went with Greyhound. Jesus Christ this wastes absolutely no time getting to the action and then refuses to let up for 90 exhilarating minutes. I've never seen naval warfare realised this beautifully nor have I experienced a World War II movie that is so fantastically scored as much as this was.

Greyhound tells the story of an inexperienced US Navy Commander, Ernie Krause (a reliably on form Tom Hanks) who, just months after the US's entry into World War II leads an Allied convoy across the Atlantic that is being hunted by a bloodthirsty German submarine wolf pack.

Relentless. That's the best adjective I can think of if I had to describe Greyhound in one word. After an extremely brief opening that threatens to offer the only moment of character development in the film but instead only gives Hanks' character an incentive to come home, the action explodes into gear with a string of taut, thrilling battle set pieces both brilliantly visualised with gorgeous aerial shots and some high quality CGI and scored so intensely my ass almost slipped off the edge of my seat. The cold, harsh reality of war was a constant enger on this journey with the baby faced crew, the savage, unrelenting truth of winter and the almost superhuman focus required to survive.

The German wolf pack are superbly menacing thanks to the clever approach taken to accentuate their villainy. A whale-like battle cry sounds every time they surface, the main towers rising and cutting through the surf like dorsal fins and hunting as a collective. Heard and not seen, they often hack the Allied broadcast frequency just to taunt anyone listening on board. A deadly protagonist without a face, mocking the Greyhound crew and lauding the deaths of their fallen comrades is genuinely unnerving. Kudos to that narrative choice. Having the entire point of view being that of the Greyhound, Hanks is often communicating with Allied ships including a well spoken, regal-esque British Commander via radio so hearing a delighted German accent crackle through the speaker really cuts through and truly announces the primary antagonist, the Grey Wolf.

Hanks brings his regular A game to a familiar role of authority and command backed up by a solid performance from Stephen Graham (with an impressive New York accent) as his second in command. The rest of the cast are young, up and coming talent that perfectly embody the dedication of the thousands of young soldiers that fought for their country. Elisabeth Shue has a tiny role that bookends the picture as Hanks' aforementioned incentive but feels somewhat unneeded in such a battle heavy war film. It leaves very little time between the chaos to fully explore any character enough to really care about their personal lives.

There are plenty of tough decisions for Hanks to make and as a God fearing man the pain of those decisions are clear in his eyes. War is hell, on land, on sea, in the air it doesn't matter. People were just built of different stuff back then and too many people today take full advantage of their sacrifice. The older I get, the more appreciative I am of the unfathomable bravery of those who risked it all to free the world.

This was really, really enjoyable.

"This is the Captain. It seems we sank that target."

This is harmless fun. On paper it doesn't have any right to be as enjoyable as it is but alas, here I am still enjoying it 20 years later. An Old West set Tremors prequel complete with a grizzled, old gunfighter hired to save the day sounds ridiculous but it's handled remarkably well in all honesty.

When 17 miners are mysteriously killed the subsequent mine closure devastates the once bustling town of Rejection, Nevada. To make matters worse the remaining inhabitants accompanied by highly strung, rich mine owner, Hiram Gummer (a franchise best performance by Michael Gross) must deal with deadly 'dirt dragons' that have staked a claim to their land.

Tremors 3: Back to Perfection was shot in three weeks and was victim to a rushed production and had a modest budget, even for a straight-to-video production. Tremors 4: The Legend Begins benefits massively from having none of those problems. The set and costume design is superb, the action is well executed with a mix of decent and wonky CGI typical of the Tremors sequels yet the practical effects are the best they've ever been. Michael Gross' character is the opposite of his modern day descendant and it's a great character arc that showcases Gross' theatrical talents. The late Billy Drago chews every bit of scenery as charismatic gunslinger Black Hand Kelly who hammers home a bit of Burt into Hiram when things get tense and there's a fine performance from Brent Roam as Juan, survivor of the mine massacre and the only person to ride a graboid like an unbroken stallion (eat your heart out, Timothy Chalamet).

There really is plenty to enjoy here. A fourth metamorphosis in four films would have been overkill and nigh on franchise killing but Tremors 4 cleverly introduces the graboids in their infancy which allows for a different approach to their taste for human flesh. They fly out of the ground at speed and phase into the dirt rapidly like The Flash. One guy gets taken out the same way Brad Pitt does at the start of Meet Joe Black. A campfire ambush is one of the finest set pieces of the series and the final twenty minutes is a thrilling turning of the tide utilising some great practical effects and a punt gun...because who doesn't want to see a graboid punted?

So much more care and attention went into The Legend Begins than in Back to Perfection. Tremors 2: Aftershocks director, S.S Wilson returns to helm the fourth and the series is all the better for it. While still hitting the same beats as everything that comes before it, Tremors 4 definitely stands apart and not necessarily because of its 1889 setting. The script is sharp, the performances are a charming mix of great and able, the score is very appropriate for a Western yarn and the biggest praise I can give is that the graboids are once again front and centre featuring heavily throughout. The tentacles themselves have been weirdly underused in the last two movies so to see them in all their glory again pleases me.

Still not a patch on the first or as fun as the second but it stands above the third that, while fun and well paced isn't anywhere near as creative or exciting. To be clear this isn't a 'great' film but it's certainly an enjoyable film that warrants a rewatch every now and then.

- "We will make Rejection our last bastion, our last line of defense."

- "Our Alamo."

- "Juan, we were the losers at the Alamo."

- "Speak for yourself, gringo."

I'm so glad I grew up around the millennium when teen horror was at the height of its popularity thanks to Scream, I Know What You Did Last Summer, The Faculty, Halloween H20 and Final Destination. Tonight's watch is the latter, where death itself takes the Ghostface, Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees role and hunts down Stan from that Eminem video and his pals.

Alex Browning (Devon Sawa) has a premonition of a catastrophic plane crash where he and his entire class dies, subsequently causing a disturbance which forces Alex and several others off-board moments before take-off. When the plane does indeed explode, Alex soon realises that death itself is coming for those who survived, those who were meant to die.

This genuinely made me afraid to fly, made me check the bathroom floor every single time I walked in and never ever listen to John Denver before a flight. I rented it on VHS with the old man's permission when I was 12 and loved it. It still holds up 25 years later after spawning a bunch of sequels that personally haven't come close to matching it. Yes, I'm a little nostalgic for it, as I am for most horror around the turn of the century but it's packed with creative kills, clever foreshadowing, solid performances, a persistently creepy score, an unseen supernatural entity and it really, really stood out from the crowd at the time.

The opening is genuinely frightening with a superbly shot sequence that feels ever so real. People get sucked out of the plane, people get cooked alive and people are hysterical with fear. All of it hammers home a very real, possibile scenario without needing a guy in a mask to set up a ninety minute who-dunnit. From there on the movie heads in that classic, millennial direction of people getting picked off one by one in various, gruesome ways but its supernatural narrative allows for a different level of creativity unseen in the typical genre pieces of the time. One death in particular is still hard to watch and makes me squirm in discomfort no matter how many years have ed between each viewing.

Devon Sawa is a great lead and it's a damn shame his career never really took off. He's backed up by a typical 2000 cast including Stifler from American Pie and a dude from Dawson's Creek but it's Ali Larter who stands apart from them all with a fine performance as a kooky outcast that finds herself inexplicably drawn to Alex. Everyone who survived the plane explosion is there to die a horrible, entertaining death until the film settles on its final guys and gals. It's simple and uncomplicated fun.

The late, great Tony Todd receives high billing in the opening credits but his role is so small it's more of a cameo but the short time he's onscreen, he steals the entire movie.

This has the stench of the year 2000 all over it and it's 100 minutes of enjoyable, teen horror that takes me back 25 years when life was much less bullshit than it is as an adult. Nostalgia for the win.

"Hey, let's go take a shit!"

Thirteen year old me was buzzing about the release of Tremors 3: Back to Perfection way back in the simpler time that was 2001. I couldn't give a graboid shit if it was straight-to-video. I liked it at the time and I still do now despite its many flaws and silly narrative.

Burt Gummer (the legend that is Michael Gross) and the inhabitants of the small, desert town of Perfection, Nevada once again face off against those pesky, subterranean carnivores though this time they have a new chain in their metamorphosis to contend with.

This does very little new. The CGI effects are ropey to say the least, the acting is stale here and there and the silly new monsters dubbed 'ass-blasters' that can fly by farting through the air are just ridiculous. They do at least have a cool practical design but feature prominently in animated form and work in the same way as Simon Gruber's bombs in Die Hard With a Vengeance. Unfortunately the movie chooses to relegate the graboids to infrequent appearances, cake them in dodgy CGI or limit them completely to one tentacle hand puppet. The shriekers appear in an opening scene massacre and then disappear altogether so the focus can shift to the newbies which dominate the second half of the film.

What works for Tremors 3: Back to Perfection is the same thing that worked for Tremors 2: Aftershocks and that's the writers and producers of the original film that clearly love the universe they've created. Returning characters Mindy, Nancy, Miguel and Melvin are all portrayed by their original actors, new characters add a fresh energy to the town's dynamic, the action is plentiful and overall it's well paced. The script isn't Oscar winning and basically blends the spirit of its predecessors but is laden with enough series references and works well enough to develop our new characters.

Desert Jack (Shawn Christian) who runs a sham Graboid tour and Jodi Chang (Susan Chuang) the niece of Walter provide the series' compulsory love angle and are welcome, new additions to the series. Jack's tour is a clever sequence that introduces the danger in a fun way and Jodi retains her uncle's penchant for money making by selling anything remotely graboid related. The returning Ariana Richards as Mindy sells the whole experience just with her presence alone though and for me, personally eclipses everyone else but Burt. Being a huge Jurassic Park fan probably attributes to that.

This is a harmless sequel that may or may not do a character dirty and may not hold up very well today but has a fairly strong rewatchability factor if you're a series fan. The final act is a well executed sequence involving moonshine, harpoons and a great, white graboid that saves the day ala the mosasaur from Jurassic World but has that unfortunate 2001 cheap CGI slathered all over it.

Yes, this is the one where Burt gets swallowed and subsequently cut out of a graboid. It's probably why I like this one to be fair. For that scene alone.

- "Ooh you know, he follows you, Burt. I think he's got a thing for you."

- "If I could reach my Grizzly 50 calibre, I'd have a thing for him."

After watching Adolescence over the past week I decided to check out director, Philip Barantini's debut feature film. On the surface Villain comes across as a run-of-the-mill, formulaic, London gangster flick with a lead known for his work in the genre. However, Barantini adds his blend of creative filmmaking and delivers a gritty, uncomfortably real crime drama that has a beating heart at its centre.

Villain tells the story of former career criminal, Eddie Franks (a fine Craig Fairbrass) who after leaving Her Majesty's pleasure tries to reconnect with his daughter, Chloe (the aforementioned beating heart, the brilliant Izuka Hoyle) and help clear his useless, cokehead brother's debt owed to a dangerous crime lord. Soon, Eddie is drawn back to a life he is desperate to be free from.

Barantini's unwavering realism helps Villain stand apart from an overwhelmingly vast cache of crappy, by-the-numbers British gangster films. Even Guy Ritchie's popular portfolio of said genre pieces that, although fun and well made often have any shred of realism suffocated by an overt use of humour. Villain however does fall into the similar abyss of not displaying London in a very appealing way at all. Nearly everyone in the movie is a prick with a thick East End dialect. The word 'cunt' is used as the last word of 80% of uttered sentences, everyone is bagged out of their minds on cocaine and the pub that features prominently is a clichéd, depressing shithole seen in a thousand similar movies.

Villain doesn't tell an original story but does tell a familiar story backed up with a string of gorgeous visuals and vigorous performances. It's a bleak tale of attempted redemption that is carried by a unyielding sense of hope that is always out of reach. Fairbrass plays Eddie with a similar gusto to his previous roles and also brings an unfamiliar humanity that regularly conflicts with his morales. It's a standout performance for Fairbrass against a wall of clichéd, hardened gangsters and goons he's played before. George Russo plays brother, Sean and is hands down the film's most infuriating character who does nothing but sniff coke and ignore his own ineptitude that has done nothing but constantly get him deeper and deeper in the red. Izuka Hoyle helps the film find its soul as Chloe, who has never forgiven Eddie for his paternal failings and subsequent abandonment of both herself and her late mother and often feeds Eddie a deserving meal of contempt that burrows straight into his heart.

Unfortunately the film loses its way with a predictable third act that all but erases every character arc in a way that's just all too played out. Not only that but the film foreshadows a secondary antagonist that serves only to quickly wrap things up. It cheapens Eddie's intelligence somewhat with a random, poorly chosen walking path that's just an eyeroll worthy moment of shitty decision making.

This wasn't enjoyable per se, as the narrative is consistently cold and hopeless but this was a well made, well paced and well performed genre film that while it doesn't have much original going for it, it does exert a palpable realism that can flip a switch to visceral violence without feeling at all forced. This is a fine debut feature from Barantini.

"Let's have it straight shall we? That's exactly what you are ain't ya? A couple of bully boys. I mean, you ain't real men. All you've ever done is suck and feed off of proper money getters. People are only nice to you because they're scared of ya and when you two walk into a room, people can't wait for you to leave. And you know why? I'll tell you why. Because you're hated....you're fuckin' hated by everyone."

(Series completed 27th March 2025)

I can barely articulate my feelings toward this four-part drama that immediately gripped me by throat and took me on a painful journey that I just couldn't have imagined would evoke a myriad of different emotions. This is a visceral depiction of modern UK childhood that is incredibly poignant, emotionally distressing and scarily real.

Growing up in England I found myself relating to the boy in question in more ways than one. Remove the heinous crime he's accused of I saw the same fear, self-loathing, anger and pain in his eyes and actions that I myself struggled with throughout my youth. As a father to a lad not too much older I also found myself relating to his dad. His own fear, confusion and pain is so personal yet he still tries everything he can to keep his family from slipping into an inescapable lifelong depression. This is astonishing television.

This one-take drama begins with the arrest of thirteen year old, Jamie Miller (an unbelievable debut from young Owen Cooper) for the murder of a young girl. It continues with the investigation in his school before leaping forward to his pre-trial incarceration before culminating with his family's struggle to accept what has happened. His father (the best actor working in Britain today, the utterly superb Stephen Graham) displays a truly broken man who is at wits with his own potential failings as a father.

This is a tough watch. Especially for modern British parents. Not only that but the current climate of growing knife crime in the country and the grip that social media, popularity and belonging have on our children. Episode one is the most intriguing of the four, with episode two delivering a painfully real depiction of modern school life and the struggles kids go through every single day. Episode three is hands down the most personal, with Jamie struggling to control his emotions and delivering one of the finest child performances I've ever seen. I felt a paternal urge to just ring my son and just speak to him, about nothing in particular. Jamie is troubled but is he a killer? Episode four might actually be the hardest watch of the four. Jumping over a year ahead and focusing on how his family are still just trying to cope and act normal but perfectly encapsulates the cold, harsh reality of their lives. It ends on an emotional gut punch that had my bottom lip quivering. Real life isn't all resolutions and finality. It's unpredictable and fraught with uncomfortable ambiguity. The ending won't be for everyone but I sure do appreciate the undeniable realism it conveys. Life isn't fair.

The one-take approach is executed to flawless effect, utilising clever techniques and modern tech to tell a story so captivating and gripping that it's almost impossible to look away. Everything feels just so personal. The dedication to bringing a horrific real world and all too common story to life is beyond impressive. As easy as it is to praise the filmmaking (and it deserves every little bit) my personsl praise is for Graham and Barantini's unwavering creativity and bravery for bringing such a worrying subject to the masses that I sincerely hope parents take on board. This isn't just great television, it's genuinely important television.

I cannot stress enough just how excellent everybody performs throughout. The aforementioned Owen Cooper and Stephen Graham are the obvious standouts and deserve every acting accolade going but Ashley Walters as Detective Inspector Bascombe, Erin Doherty as child therapist, Briony and Christine Tremarco as Jamie's mother, Manda all warrant similar praise. The children are all excellent which is no easy feat. There isn't a single wonky line delivery, there isn't a bad performance across the board.

Yes, the phenomenal filmmaking 100% deserves its time in the limelight but no more so than the powerful message it sends about our children's heart-wrenching struggles with belonging, privacy and puberty.

Adolescence is an outstanding triumph.

I'm biased. I won't lie. I go back to being 11 years old every time I watch it. This is a solid three all day long but a pungent stench of nostalgia contributes heavily to my four star rating. I grew up watching Tremors and Tremors 2: Aftershocks (great title) on repeat so much I wore out the cheap VHS tapes I recorded them on. No, it's nowhere near as good as the first film but considering there was a massive budget cut during pre-production, what was achieved was arguably one of the best straight-to-video sequels of the 90s.

When graboids appear and cause the deaths of oil field workers in Mexico, a down on his luck Earl Bassett (the returning and superb Fred Ward) reluctantly agrees to tackle the problem with the promise of fifty thousand dollars for each graboid killed. Accompanied by new sidekick, cab driver Grady (a great Chris Gartin) and old friend and survivalist, Burt Gummer (series favourite Michael Gross) they soon discover that the worms...have turned.

There's an undeniable charm to this sequel that has a witty script, committed performances and a nice, tight runtime. Is it as fun as the first? Not by a long shot but despite repeating a few of the same beats it does more than enough to stand out. It lacks the horror aspect and constant intrigue that made Tremors such a cult classic with a third of the deaths and a lot less excitement but its second act twist lands really well initially but begins to dim down and dwindle in the third with a fairly clichéd, explody ending so familiar in the 90s.

Carrying the film is Fred Ward who slots back into the role effortlessly and has a great student/master dynamic with Chris Gartin who brings a childlike charisma to the film. He's also given his own love interest in paleontologist, Kate (a spirited Helen Shaver) with whom he shares good chemistry. Michael Gross' introduction happens in the second act and the movie is all the better for it because with Burt Gummer comes half of the Mexican army's ammunition. Gross arguably gives his best performance as Burt here with a string of quotable lines all with flawless delivery. Sadly there's no Reba McEntire and obviously no Kevin Bacon (and everyone else) and that was the main reasoning behind the budget slashing.

There's a great chase sequence that sees a graboid towing Earl's truck toward a cliff that has a fun little reference to the end of the first film and Burt's intro is a panning shot of his infamous gun laden basement before revealing the graboid he killed in the first film now stuffed and displayed as a trophy. There's also a great scene that sees Burt return from an altercation with the beasties with his gigantic truck slathered in graboid goop, a creepy graboid carcass discovery that turns the shortlived intrigue up to no end and a great shot from Burt that utilises some awesome practical effects.

Phil Tippet and his self titled studios provide the film's massively dated CGI that considering the film was straight-to-video and actually completed in 1994, is able. The cultural phenomenon that was Jurassic Park (with which Tippet also worked on and also stars Tremors alum Ariana Richards as Lex) changed movies forever with every filmmaker and his dog itching to get in on the animated fun. The practicals are top notch thanks to Alec Gillis and Tom Woodruff Jr who have worked on the xenomorph in varying Alien sequels/crossovers and bring the graboids...and shriekers to life and also take their lives with a few fun, goopy kills.

It's a fun ride that I'm probably being way too nice to but I genuinely don't care. It still makes me smile, still brings me enjoyment and I can still recite it almost word for word. It goes over the same tracks as its predecessor but brings its own surprises that while not entirely successful, is absolutely commendable for bringing something fresh to proceedings. For me, personally, Tremors 2: Aftershocks is a win.

"I am COMPLETELY out of ammo.....that's never happened to me before!"

Well, a Jar-Jar Binks impression, random knowledge about Lana del Rey and the owner of Bob Ross Monopoly weren't on my Hugh Grant bingo card for Heretic.

What was on my A24 bingo card for Heretic was good performances, an intriguing set up, little to no real scares, great dialogue, twists and turns, subverted expectations and the film being not as great as the big critics would have you believe.

Heretic tells the story of two Mormon missionaries (the fantastic Sophie Thatcher and Chloe East) who, after meeting the charming Mr. Reed (a frankly excellent Hugh Grant) are invited into his home to take shelter from a nasty storm. There, it soon becomes clear that ulterior motives are lurking under Reed's endearing aura and the missionaries soon become ensnared in a sinister game that not only questions their faith but all faiths.

There aren't many scares here nor does it quite stick its landing but what works for Heretic is a palpable sense of sheer dread that slowly creeps through an increasingly unhinged Hugh Grant though he never loses that typical charm. His game is simple. One door lets you leave the other does not. The choice is based on faith. However there is so much more madness he has to show our petrified protagonists who are just great at radiating fear just from their eyes. A somewhat 'smart cop/dumb cop' dynamic is established pretty early on that the movie 100% takes pride in switching up in the movie's biggest shock moment. From there a once slightly reserved character suddenly becomes Columbo and through sheer guess work along with expostional interjections from Grant removes some of that tidy intrigue that kept the film ticking along through its first two acts.

Despite a really original premise with interesting, believable characters the film has its fair share of in your face foreshadowing, a couple of blatant Checkov's gun placements and some of that weird, clichéd antagonist ignorance that often negates all of their intelligence. For instance why would you not remove a letter opener from a room you knew full well you'd trap two defenceless people in? They're minor complaints overall but annoyingly valid nonetheless. The ending just didn't blow my tits off and plays out almost like the ending of a Scream film where once Ghostface has been unmasked they revel in telling the final girl how and why they did everything they did. It's a good film just not a great film.

Oh and random Topher Grace is random.

"Magic underwear."

The 2000s are synonymous with classic horror remakes that usually starred someone popular on TV, a singer who can't act, someone you recognise from a crappy stoner comedy or someone who's career is in the shitter...not fucking James Bond. The Invasion is a soulless interpretation of The Body Snatchers starring Nicole Kidman and Daniel Craig and spoiler alert...it sucks.

An alien virus begins to infect humanity, slowly turning everybody into mere husks of their former selves and transforming mankind into a collective, emotionless society after a returning space shuttle explodes on re-entry.

The movie decides to shed the intriguing characters from Philip Kaufman's 1978 masterpiece and pin the focus on therapist, Carol (an extremely wooden Nicole Kidman) and terrible doctor, Ben (Daniel Craig) and boy everyone was in this for the paycheck and it shows. Jeffrey Wright also shows up for a really weird James Bond/Felix Leiter reunion a year after Casino Royale as a doctor with all the answers and no discernable care for the project whatsoever. The script is weak and riddled with unbelievably boring dialogue delivered with the enthusiasm of Stephen Hawking's voice box...and that's before anyone gets their body snatched.

Kidman, the walking Nokia commercial wanders around noticing clichéd drama in the streets, a hobo fitting in the road, a lady running and crying, that kind of played out shit that tries and fails to build suspense. There is none to be found here. No original spin on a familiar tale, no creativity and absolutely zero intrigue. Even when our characters discover an alien virus is responsible for everyone acting strange the bombshell is met with no expression at all. As if it happens every month and is just a minor inconvenience.

The only stakes in the entire movie aren't the invasion of earth and the collapse of civilization as we know it but rather the survival of Nicole Kidman and that becomes painfully clear in the third act. The movie grossly misread my care for her character, poorly written and to be honest, rather poorly portrayed. Craig is just there really and doesn't offer a single thing to anyone's character arc or the narrative. The 'snatched' are excruciatingly boring and are just extras standing around blank faced for ninety eventless minutes growing in number as the film drones on. The 'virus' is visually realised as weird, veiny, ripped condoms that can be washed off the body with tap water and gives the victim the ability to spit some frogspawn looking crap like Toad from X-Men. Oh and there's immunity too because why not, right? You can also bet your house on someone close to Kidman having this immunity...but no-one else.

At least the third act has a half decent car chase with around twenty people hanging onto Kidman's vehicle that's hands down the most exciting thing to happen throughout. It's shortlived and it doesn't take long for the bullshit to rear its ugly head again. The ending is so ridiculously resolved it's almost laughable. Wright just explains everything away in his dulcet tone with very little context to a bunch of reporters about how easy it was to actually inoculate the human race. Kiss my lily white ass.

Movie, if you think adding Veronica Cartwright from the '78 Body Snatchers will make me feel any better about this then...you're right...you lucky, lucky movie. Remove Kidman, Craig, Wright and the familiar story beats then you have a boring, forgettable, feature length episode of The X-Files that you'd skip in a heartbeat during a series rewatch.

The biggest surprise though is that Michael Bay didn't produce this.

Some say the perfect movie doesn't exist. Subjectively, I believe those people to be unfathomably wrong.

Tremors is a childhood favourite that I get exactly the same enjoyment from today as I did at ten years old. Great story. Great cast. Great practical effects. Great location. Great pacing. Great movie.

Val McKee (a superb Kevin Bacon) and Earl Bassett (an equally superb and missed Fred Ward), two handymen in the tiny, desert town of Perfection, Nevada find their carefree lives upended when giant subterranean monsters appear with a taste for anything that moves.

With a fantastic band of eccentric characters from bright, young geologist, Rhonda (Finn Carter), wild-eyed convenience store owner Walter (cult favourite Victor Wong) and married survivalists Heather and Burt Gummer (the scene stealing duo of country legend Reba McEntire and franchise stalwart Michael Gross) the movie is fail proof. Pair that with a great setup that beats you over the head with intrigue and suspense intertwined with horror and underlying comedy and the film 'grabs' a hold instantly and rather appropriately will not let go.

Stand out moments include a creepy body discovery on a electricity pylon, a sheep massacre discovery that comes out of nowhere, a big monster reveal that is cleverly masked throughout the first act, a fun pole-vaulting escape sequence to an uplifting country score, a horror ridden station wagon attack and an infamous basement standoff that is the film's biggest highlight. All of which is scored fantastically. It's appropriately gory, funny in all the right places and once the monsters reveal themselves the film turns up to eleven with a series of exciting action packed scenes.

Everyone in Perfection is given enough screentime to showcase their individuality thanks to a crisp script and fine performances. The underground monsters themselves, dubbed 'graboids' by Walter, are just phenomenal. They look disgusting, are wonderfully designed and have a few neat little tricks up their sleeves that keep them interesting right to the very end. A combination of fantastic practical effects and miniatures with a few subtle dashes of special effects here and there add the icing to an already delicious cake.

The ending is nothing but a good time and culminates in a satisfying man defeating monster triumph before a classic Hollywood final shot that perfectly resolves two great character arcs. I'm now at an age where I feel confident in saying that, they just don't make movies like this anymore with this level of dedication to the craft and evenly spreading a great cast, great score, great creature effects and great story structure.

Tremors is a timeless, cult classic that will forever be in my top 5 films of all time and answers that age old question of: can a man can get sucked underground through a tractor tyre?

"BROKE INTO THE WRONG GODDAMN REC ROOM DIDN'T YOU, YOU BASTARD!'

RaNNNking

1. Pearl
2. X
3. MaXXXine

The Naked Gun 2½: The Ranking of Fear

1. The Naked Gun: From the Files of Police Squad!
2. The Naked Gun 2½: The Smell of Fear
3. Naked Gun 33⅓: The Final Insult

Roborank 2

1. RoboCop
2. RoboCop
3. RoboCop 2
4. RoboCop 3

Anacondas: The Rank for the Blood Orchid

1. Anaconda
2. Anacondas: The Hunt for the Blood Orchid
3. Anaconda 3: Offspring
4. Anacondas: Trail of Blood

RvP: Ranking Vs Predator

1. Predator
2. Predator 2
3. Prey
4. Predators
5. AVP: Alien vs. Predator
6. The Predator
7. Aliens vs Predator: Requiem

Final Destination: Bloodranks

1. Final Destination
2. Final Destination 5
3. Final Destination 3
4. Final Destination 2
5. The Final Destination

Star Trek V: The Final Ranking

1. Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan
2. Star Trek: First
3. Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home
4. Star Trek
5. Star Trek Into Darkness
6. Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country
7. Star Trek Beyond
8. Star Trek III: The Search for Spock
9. Star Trek: Generations
10. Star Trek: The Motion Picture

...plus 4 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

Clear and Present Ranking

1. Clear and Present Danger
2. The Hunt for Red October
3. The Sum of All Fears
4. Patriot Games
5. Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit

Furiosa: A Mad Max Ranking

1. Mad Max: Fury Road
2. Mad Max 2
3. Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga
4. Mad Max
5. Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome

Tremors 4: The Ranking Begins

1. Tremors
2. Tremors 2: Aftershocks
3. Tremors 4: The Legend Begins
4. Tremors 3: Back to Perfection
5. Tremors 5: Bloodlines
6. Tremors: Shrieker Island
7. Tremors: A Cold Day in Hell

Ranko III

1. First Blood
2. Rambo
3. Rambo: First Blood Part II
4. Rambo III
5. Rambo: Last Blood