Friday, 26 June 2026

For what it's worth...




UK box office Top Ten (for the weekend of June 19-21, 2026):

1 (new) Toy Story 5 (PG) **
2 (1) Disclosure Day (12A) **
3 (2) Obsession (18) *
4 (3) Scary Movie (15)
5 (4) Backrooms (15)
6 (5) Masters of the Universe (12A)
7 (6) Michael (12A)
8 (7) Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu (12A)
9 (new) Cocktail 2 (12A)
10 (9) The Devil Wears Prada 2 (12A)

(source: BFI)

My top five:
5. Swimming Pool


DVD/Blu-Ray/Download top ten: 

1 (1) Michael (12)
2 (2) Project Hail Mary (12) ***
4 (5) Avatar: Fire and Ash (12) ***
5 (4) Mortal Kombat 2 (15)
6 (new) The Magic Faraway Tree (U)
7 (18) The Good Boy (15) ***
8 (3) Scream 7 (18)
9 (6) The Super Mario Galaxy Movie (PG)
10 (27) Wicked: For Good (PG)


My top five: 
1. Hoppers


Top five films on terrestrial TV this week:
1. Close Encounters of the Third Kind (Saturday, BBC Two, 4pm)
2. Licorice Pizza (Friday, BBC Two, 12 midnight)
3. Diego Maradona [above] (Saturday, Channel 4, 12 midnight)
4. Shiva Baby (Thursday, Channel 4, 2.25am)
5. Thunderball (Sunday, ITV1, 3.10pm)

"The Furious" (Guardian 25/06/26)


The Furious
****

Dir: Kenji Taniyaki. With: Miao Xie, Joe Taslim, Enyou Yang, Brian Le. 113 mins. Cert: 18

It keeps happening: every few years, usually during a run of especially lethargic American spectacles, the needle of screen violence gets recalibrated by a muscular wonder from the East. Thundering along in the bloody footsteps of the Raid films and the Hindi punch-‘em-up Kill, this martial-arts showcase from Japanese-born, Hong Kong-based director Kenji Taniyaki opens in generic dadsploitation territory: “somewhere in Southeast Asia”, as a caption has it, mute Chinese handyman Wang Wei (Miao Xie) tears off after the traffickers who’ve nabbed his daughter (Enyou Yang). Having Hulk-smashed its way out of the Taken box, though, The Furious starts to crank up. Boy, does it crank up: the closing half-hour achieves a pummelling intensity unlikely to be matched by any other 2026 release.

There are further developments: cribbing from John Woo’s buddy movies, Taniyaki has his hero run into an undercover journo (Danny Dyer lookalike Joe Taslim) with his own reasons for chasing the traffickers. Yet this route-one plot chiefly bears out the advantages of creatives following straight narrative lines while turning the dial to eleven. The complexities are reserved for the frame itself: here, jawdroppingly limber, seemingly boneless performers pull off bruising manoeuvres on concrete floors, Taniyaki’s well-placed cameras capturing unexpected delicacies and flourishes amid otherwise crunching dustups. It’s that deathless critical cliché for movie action – balletic – only someone’s brought a crossbow and a ballpeen hammer to the dance, and they’re intent on using them.

The Saturday night crowd won’t care, but Taniyaki doesn’t yet have the architectural sense that elevated the Raids, projects born of dojo and drawing board alike. And some may prefer their action more culturally specific: the film screens here in a base-covering polyglot version, part-subtitled, part-dubbed. The precision of its setpieces, though, is inarguable: wherever editor Chris Tonick cuts, he crafts soaring rhymes between bodies in motion. Climaxing with a royal rumble for the ages, Taniyaki’s film is never quite as bludgeoning as it might have been, tempering its ferocity with athletic and technical skill, matching that intensity with invention and delivering as much exhilaration as evisceration. One note of warning: you may require a long lie down afterwards. 

The Furious opens in selected cinemas from today.

Thursday, 25 June 2026

On DVD: "The Mastermind"


To the freewheeling mobility of the American independent cinema, Kelly Reichardt has introduced complication and obstruction in a series of droll anti-thrillers that also functioned as lucid, probing character studies. (
The Kelly Reichardt Obstructions would be a fine title for any monograph.) In her 1994 debut River of Grass, the lovers on the run didn't - and couldn't - get very far; her 2010 Western Meek's Cutoff stranded its characters in the middle of nowhere; 2013's Night Moves centred on system-smashing anarchists who, in succumbing to their own paranoia, couldn't follow through on their own best intentions. Things ain't easy in a Kelly Reichardt film - another monograph title there, perhaps - and her characters have a tendency to make life doubly difficult for themselves. The Mastermind - its title as ironic as you like - bears down on another of this director's drifters, a non-complimentary term in this instance, as the film's anti-hero is someone who really should have gained some sort of direction by the point we find him: thirtysomething deadbeat JB Mooney (Josh O'Connor), who's forsaken steady employment and responsible parenting in order to plot a heist on a provincial art museum. By complete coincidence, Reichardt's previous film, 2022's Showing Up, concerned the trials and tribulations of a working artist; here, by contrast, is someone aiming to get rich quick without putting in the hours, a career criminal for the age of A.I.. In the non-Reichardt version of this story, Mooney pulls it together in tense setpieces and redeems himself in the process, possibly even reuniting with his estranged family. In the Reichardt version, however, he messes up again: he just about gets the heist done - in the clumsiest, most half-assed way imaginable - but then falls to pieces, leaving JB Mooney with and as a big nothing.

So there's already a major caveat here: you will need to know what this filmmaker is getting at (and has long been getting at) in order to even partly vibe with it. (Were you to stick it on expecting another Thomas Crown Affair, you would likely be wholly underwhelmed: save your money for Michael B. Jordan's upcoming remake.) The perverse fun of The Mastermind instead lies in watching Josh O'Connor potter around aimlessly. This proves a markedly different pleasure from watching O'Connor in the recent Wake Up Dead Man, where his character was altogether more focused and purposeful under his cassock: that guy had the Lord in his heart. God only knows what JB Mooney's deal is. (I'm not sure even he knows beyond a certain point, though Reichardt floats the intriguing possibility that this lawbreaking may be Mooney's delayed adolescent rebellion against his father, a senior judge.) Time and again, this camera emphasises the physical aspect of the protagonist's pottering. A long stretch either side of the midpoint reframes Mooney as akin to a small woodland creature - a weasel, possibly - squirrelling his ill-gotten gains away for the winter while kicking soil over his own mess. It's a funny if somewhat deflating and anticlimactic gag that absolutely no good comes from all this huffing and puffing: like the lovers in River of Grass, Mooney doesn't get very far, either. (Not least as there are wilier predators on this trail.) Is there too much pottering, not enough plot? Almost certainly. And I couldn't quite shake the thought that Reichardt has paced similar mean streets before, albeit with the less saleable Larry Fessenden in the lead role. But The Mastermind is finally very indie in the old, oppositional sense of the word: what Reichardt means to say is that there is another way of looking at and telling these stories, and that the kinds of men our crime fictions lionise aren't always as aspirational as they appear.

The Mastermind is available on DVD through MUBI from Monday, and available to stream via MUBI.

Men with guns: "A Better Tomorrow"


The Arrow label continue their admirable project to dust down and recirculate the first, landmark movies of the Hong Kong action specialist John Woo, for so long locked up in rights limbo. We've already had the heaviest hitters: 1989's
The Killer, 1990's Bullet in the Head, 1992's Hard Boiled. Now we get Woo's local breakthrough: a none-more-1986 honour-among-thieves variation, all cigarette smoke, sharp suits and sunglasses, which on first release beguiled young audiences in Woo's homeland and spawned a franchise. What may have seemed especially fresh forty years ago was the lighter tone A Better Tomorrow initially strikes: jaunty strings accompany early scenes illustrating the downtime of chuckling dudes with criminal connections. (Tarantino had to have been taking notes.) The main event, though, is the intersection of - perhaps better: collision between - a handful of these men: a charismatic currency forger and occasional hired gun (Chow Yun Fat, already a movie star), an aspirant young cop (Leslie Cheung), and the latter's brother (Ti Lung), a sometime mobster - and confrere of Chow's - attempting to go straight upon his release from prison. These new faces were handed new ideas to play with: this is one of those genre pics that increasingly seems like a riff on the concept of brotherhood, an experiment to see which family matters most to these guys, and whether the blood we see being spilled at regular intervals in ambushes and shootouts is really any thicker than water.

As exemplified by a few scenes introducing the cop's klutzy cellist girlfriend (Emily Chu), that opening stretch now seems tonally awkward; there's a lot of forced jollification up until the moment the plot proper kicks off with a betrayal and a home invasion. (Rumours have long persisted that certain scenes here were filmed by producer Tsui Hark.) And I suspect even those viewers whose entry points into the Woo canon were The Killer, Hard Boiled or Face/Off might be taken aback by how melodramatic the bulk of the film is. Playing out in hospital wards and domestic kitchens, this is on some essential level a male-oriented soap opera, one that sporadically erupts into spectacular carnage. (Like the later Infernal Affairs thrillers, with their side-swapping antagonists, this set-up invites serialisation.) One could claim this volatile sincerity as proof of this filmmaker's commitment to character; unlike Tarantino, Woo genuinely cares - and wants us to care - about who lives and who dies. Crucially, and despite Woo's love for filming bullet casings pinging around in super-slow motion, the action proceeds at a still-thrilling clip, compressing the events and complications of a three-hour epic of the Leone/Peckinpah stripe into a mere 96 minutes. Some of the plot's finer detail is itself compressed in this process: any future DVD release would benefit from a map illustrating how the main and supporting players relate, although even here, Woo seems to be fostering a useful ambiguity as to who the true hero(es) of the piece will ultimately be. His eye for the stirring gesture is already in place: witness Chow keeping a toothpick in one corner of his mouth and a snout in the other, or later improvising with a mechanic's trolley amid a shootout in a multistorey carpark. The awkwardness would be ironed out over the next decade, replaced by the assurance of a master - Woo's getting there by the time of the dockside finale here - but A Better Tomorrow retains the air of a dynamic apprentice work.

A Better Tomorrow opens in selected cinemas from tomorrow.

Wednesday, 24 June 2026

In memoriam: Brian Johnson (Telegraph 23/06/26)


Brian Johnson
, who has died aged 86, was an Oscar-winning visual effects maestro and modelling specialist who contributed significantly to the look of modern science fiction. Emerging from the multitudes of craftsmen hired for Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: a Space Odyssey (1968), he worked weekly wonders on TV’s Space: 1999 (1975-77); subsequent designs helped elevate such genre touchstones as Alien (1979), its sequel Aliens (1986) and The Empire Strikes Back (1980).

In his mid-twenties, Johnson spent three years modelling for the lunar and moonbase sequences in 2001. Although he warmed to the film, he found production frustrating, later confessing “you could spend weeks talking about a problem before doing anything about it”. When the film won the Visual Effects Oscar, it was awarded to Kubrick, as was customary, rather than individual technicians.

Johnson did, however, develop techniques that proved crucial to Space: 1999, for which he designed the fondly remembered Eagle transporter. Here, his team faced challenges tied to the demands of serialised television: “If you look at earlier science fiction series, they had very few special effects. Star Trek, for instance, often just had a standard planet, and a standard shot of the Enterprise, and that’s it. We’ve had to create a new spacecraft every episode, and a new planet nearly every episode.”

Unknowingly, his influence was spreading. The young George Lucas felt obliged to redesign the Millennium Falcon, the spaceship central to Star Wars (1977), after seeing Space: 1999 while visiting the UK. Lucas and producer Gary Kurtz showed up one day at Bray Studios seeking assistance, only for Johnson to turn the pair down (“I didn’t know who they were”), being busy with the show’s second series.

For Alien, shot at Bray, Johnson and Nick Allder provided model miniatures, notably the spaceship Nostromo; Johnson also offered practical suggestions for the film’s unforgettable “chestburster” sequence, which fitted John Hurt with an artificial torso, loaded with cow’s blood and intestines, through which an alien puppet could be thrust. Johnson won a Best Visual Effects Oscar for his work, shared with Allder, H.R. Giger, Carlo Rambaldi and Dennis Ayling.

He finally entered the Star Wars universe – winning a special achievement Oscar – with The Empire Strikes Back, for which Johnson relocated first to Lucas’s Industrial Light and Magic studio in California, then to snowy Norway to oversee the Hoth battle (and see off an on-set infestation of spiders). A sequence in which the robot R2D2 sinks into the Dagobah swamps was, however, realised closer to home: in Lucas’s own, half-finished swimming pool.

Already an industry go-to, Johnson proved a lifesaver for James Cameron during Aliens, helping to complete the project after the dissatisfied director fired a rival effects crew mid-shoot. Johnson shared the film’s Best Visual Effects BAFTA with Robert Skotak, John Richardson and Stan Winston; though he was omitted from the list of Oscar nominees, Cameron gifted Johnson a Tiffany crystal with a personal inscription as a show of gratitude.

Johnson’s work increasingly combined practical and digital effects, as he explained in Once Upon a Galaxy, a tie-in Empire Strikes Back paperback: “We are actually able to program a computer to ‘dirty down’ an electronic image. We start with a clean model and then program the computer to make it look well-worn and used… a spacecraft with scuffmarks and oil-streaks.” The goal was “convincing an audience to believe that what they’re seeing is real.”

He was born Brian Johncock in Surrey on June 29, 1939; he changed his surname in the 1960s. Childhood ambitions of becoming a pilot were dashed by a lack of maths qualifications (“I left school with one O Level, which was art, and I just scraped through on that”), but he found employment at the Cement and Concrete Research Association at Wexham Springs, where he mixed test concrete for bridges on the planned M1. 

After six wearying months, he walked into his local pub, the Dog and Pot in Stoke Poges, and fell into conversation with his neighbour, the Canadian effects artist Les Bowie: “Les said to me ‘Would you like a job sweeping the floor in a film studio?’ and I said yes […] I went to Anglo-Scottish Pictures in Addlestone, in an old church, on my Lambretta, which was all I could afford, and started doing camera work, loading magazines, sweeping the floor, that stuff.”

This apprenticeship was interrupted by a spell of national service in the RAF, where Johnson was assigned to instrument landing systems, but upon his release, he was welcomed into Bowie’s own effects studio, where he made uncredited contributions to such British sci-fi landmarks as X the Unknown (1956), Quatermass 2 (1957) and The Day the Earth Caught Fire (1961); he also provided matte paintings for the WW2 drama Dunkirk (1958).

In 1961, Johnson joined AP Films under Derek Meddings, building models for Supercar (1960-62), Fireball XL5 (1962-63) and Stingray (1964-65); Meddings assigned Johnson his own effects unit on Thunderbirds (1965-66). With Bowie, Johnson worked on Hammer’s Taste the Blood of Dracula and When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth (both 1970), his first onscreen credits.

Johnson specialised in fantasy and horror, visualising the plane/skyscraper inferno in The Medusa Touch (1978), the mechanical dragon Vermithrax Pejorative in Dragonslayer (1981) and the flying canine Falkor in The NeverEnding Story (1984). His final effects credit was on the bawdy sci-fi romp Space Truckers (1996), though he later directed 58 episodes of the CITV cartoon Dream Street (1999-02).

After retiring, Johnson toured the convention circuit; last September, he appeared at the London: 1999 convention, which showcased a full-scale Eagle replica. He retained the optimism he’d displayed upon discussing The Empire Strikes Back in 1979: “Everything is possible. It’s usually a question of money… Top effects cost top money. Ingenuity can produce excellent effects for less.”

He is survived by Lucy-Kate Johnson, his daughter by an earlier marriage to Delia Tindall, a secretary on 2001.

Brian Johnson, born June 29, 1939, died May 25, 2026.

Sunday, 21 June 2026

Fruits of passion: "Cactus Pears"


Anand (Bhushaan Manoj), the tousle-haired, muddle-headed thirtysomething who serves as the protagonist of the new Marathi film
Cactus Pears, represents a very different idea of masculinity from that the Indian cinema has typically promoted in the Dhurandhar era. For one, he's vulnerable from the off. We first join him in a hospital waiting area, as he learns his ailing father has finally succumbed to complications of the kidney. Anand's complications, as soon become apparent, are those of the heart and the tongue. Over ten days of mourning in his father's leafy village, we cannot help but spot how this Mumbai-based IT wonk is at the mercy of protocol, rules and regulations, some societal, some entirely self-imposed. Relatives insist his unmarried status leaves him ineligible to perform key burial rituals; his father's passing means he must either marry within six months or wait three years, for reasons that can only be explained as local custom. All the conditions are in place for some sort of movie romance, perhaps even an unlikely romcom, but the film's mood initially seems too sombre to countenance much in the way of happiness. Instead, Anand sneaks away from the main event to spend more time in the company of Balya (Suraaj Suman), a gentle family friend - and contemporary of Anand's - who works as a farmhand. Balya is more assured than Anand: he knows who he is and what he wants, and is prepared to speak up for these in a way the more guarded Anand can't. He is, one could say, exactly the kind of stout and hardy fellow who might pull our guy out of his funk. But what about those blasted rules? And what on earth would the neighbours say?

Writer-director Rohan Kanawade sets about telling this story with some of All We Imagine As Light's hushed, attentive naturalism, although we're a long way from that film's enchanting urban sparkle. Instead, Kanawade proposes a rural alternative. Cactus Pears is a slower and quieter endeavour, as befits a setting where the characters can often be seen taking mid-afternoon naps in the shade of a tree. We, too, are afforded ample time to feel the breeze blowing over the hills and to hear the birds singing in those tree branches. But we're also attuned to those tensions creeping into these frames: between the individual and the family (and, indeed, between the individual and wider society), and - more specifically - between two men trying to speak their truths, but not so loud as for anybody else to notice. Nature, again, provides some solace and shelter: Ang Lee's Brokeback Mountain has to have been some influence. But Kanawade, in an impressive feature debut, proves more worldly than dreamy. He knows the farm life can be a tough one, and he presents us with a genuinely complex character in Anand: a shy, sensitive, secretive, rather scared soul who's put up walls, kept his head down, lost his way and now sorely needs some form of shepherding. The title refers to a sweet fruit Balya brings in from the fields for Anand, having removed its thorns for easier consumption, but it's just possible Anand himself is the real prickly pear here: someone determined to keep the world at arm's length, who hardly appears an obvious recipient of life's happier endings. The film around these two men is simple, unflashy, somewhat unfashionable within the context of today's Indian cinema. Yet its anchoring bedrock of restraint preserves what's essential here: real-seeming people, with aching, bruised and yearning hearts.

Cactus Pears is now showing in selected cinemas.

Friday, 19 June 2026

For what it's worth...




UK box office Top Ten (for the weekend of June 12-14, 2026):

1 (new) Disclosure Day (12A) **
2 (5) Obsession (18) *
3 (1) Scary Movie (15)
4 (4) Backrooms (15)
5 (3) Masters of the Universe (12A)
6 (7) Michael (12A)
7 (6) Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu (12A)
8 (re) BTS World Tour 'Arirang' in Busan: Live Viewing (12A)
9 (9) The Devil Wears Prada 2 (12A)
10 (8) The Sheep Detectives (PG)

(source: BFI)

My top five:
5. Swimming Pool [above]


DVD/Blu-Ray/Download top ten: 

1 (new) Michael (12)
2 (1) Project Hail Mary (12) ***
3 (22) Scream 7 (18)
4 (new) Mortal Kombat 2 (15)
5 (2) Avatar: Fire and Ash (12) ***
6 (3) The Super Mario Galaxy Movie (PG)
7 (10) Hoppers (U) ****
8 (re) One Battle After Another (15) ****
9 (24) Sinners (15) ****
10 (11) Jurassic World: Rebirth (12) **


My top five: 
1. Hoppers


Top five films on terrestrial TV this week:
1. My Darling Clementine (Saturday, BBC Two, 10am)
2. Psycho (Friday, BBC Two, 11pm)
3. The Producers (Monday, BBC Two, 11pm)
4. From Russia with Love (Sunday, ITV1, 6am)
5. Goldfinger (Sunday, ITV1, 4.20pm)