Film Review – Ghostbusters: Afterlife

Starring Carrie Coon, Paul Rudd, Mckenna Grace

Certificate 12A

Directed by Jason Reitman

By @RogerCrow

For film fans in 1984, Ghostbusters was a phenomenon. It was a perfect mix of subversive comedy, action, adventure, scares and special effects. On paper it sounded about as successful as a snow-based fireguard, but a killer script, great direction by Ivan Reitman and a dream cast all combined to form cinema magic. 

When David Puttnam enjoyed a short stint as the big cheese at Columbia Pictures, he apparently swerved the inevitable sequel in favour of more original projects. Inevitably he got the boot and in 1989 we had more of the same. Ghostbusters II was a fun but formulaic sequel which was obviously hugely commercial, but that edgy quality of the original was gone. 

After many years we had an all-female Ghostbusters set in an alternate New York. It was hugely enjoyable but when another movie was announced, even a hardcore fan like me thought it was just an excuse to cash in on the Stranger Things phenomenon. 

And while Finn Wolfhard is just as good in Ghostbusters: Afterlife, the movie belongs to Mckenna Grace, one of those teenage actors who already has a string of credits to her name, and whose Phoebe is the backbone of the film. She’s the introverted 12-year-old science genius who hopes bad gags will attract new school friends. Thankfully she meets Podcast (Logan Kim), a fun classmate who spends most of the movie getting audio material for his, er, podcast. 

Finn is Phoebe’s brother Trevor, who instantly sets his sights on local waitress Lucky (a splendid Celeste O’Connor). 

Carrie Coon (Avengers: Infinity War) and Paul Rudd (Avengers: Endgame) are superb as ever.  She’s Callie, the single mum whose late dad left her a load of debt and a decrepit old house in the middle of rural nowhere. He alienated many of the locals, and his family, including Callie. As we discover in the first few minutes, he was literally fighting his own demons. 

Rudd plays Grooberson, the local school teacher whose idea of education is to screen a load of inappropriate horror films for his kids. A world of wrong yet very funny. 

And there are gags throughout the film. Throwaway jokes, wry comments, zingers, deadpan comments. I was chuckling consistently, but as the new kids on a very dusty rural block settled into their ‘fresh’ surroundings, the new Ghostbusters really started to work its magic. 

An action scene involving Ecto-one, the version of the Ghostbusters mobile souped up like the Batmobile, is extraordinary. Now fitted with a gunner’s seat, which feels like a natural progression for the spook-chasers, it also boasts one of those cool ghost traps integrated into a radio-controlled vehicle. All the gadgets in Ghostbusters became iconic, but given a extra mobile energy of their own, they become as integral to the movie as the key stars. 

Jason Reitman (son of franchise-launching director Ivan Reitman, and the brains behind the movie) basically sat down and took all the best elements of the original and fine tuned everything. Nothing feels out of place, but there’s an organic sense of evolution. And that ghost chase towards a bridge is so thrilling, I almost stood up and started clapping. 

But that’s usually that for most movies, if you’re lucky. One sucker punch moment, and cut to the closing credits. 

Not so here. Ghostbusters: Afterlife starts off as a fun mystery; turns into a great action adventure, and then pulls off a third act so astonishing I was choking back tears. 

The inevitable showdown is pure Harry Potter versus “He who shall not be named”, but the dynamic of the original Ghostbusters was ‘spectres picking on a bunch of maverick academics’. 

When a 12-year-old-girl is facing off with a spectral monster armed with a proton pack and a new sense of courage, the movie becomes something else entirely. 

And just when you thought the finale couldn’t get more spectacular and affecting, the film makers pull off the ending you’d hoped for, but nothing prepares you for the effect. It’s like the end of ET and Paddington 2 rolled into one. Yes, it sounds ridiculous, and for those who weren’t 16 in 1984 watching their first film in an American theatre and marvelling at cinema magic on the big screen, it may pass you by completely. 

As a side note, I saw the film in Screen X; key scenes are projected onto three walls which create an extraordinarily immersive experience. It’s what I imagine the view through a cockpit windscreen of an X-wing Fighter must be like. And when those moments come, they are very special. 

I may keep rattling on about the importance of seeing films on the big screen, but for a movie as good as this, the cumulative effect of one viewing with no interruptions, high quality sound and a huge screen, or screens, is absolutely everything. If you love great movies, you owe it to yourself to see this in the best conditions possible. 

That finale had such a powerful effect, I sat through all the closing credits, and there’s a couple of credit cookies for those who aren’t desperate for the loo. 

There’s obviously room for a sequel, or a Ghostbusters 3 in this timeline (the second movie and 2016 reboot are ignored). 

On the strength of this, that would not be the worst thing in the world. 

Ghostbusters: Afterlife is a multi-generational masterpiece, and nobody is more surprised than me. 

Cast 9

Script 8

Effects 8

Score 8

Direction 9

Rewatchability 9

Editing 9

Roger saw Ghostbusters: Afterlife at Screen X, Cineworld York.

Film review – Spencer (2021)

Starring Kristen Stewart, Timothy Spall, Sean Harris

Directed by Pablo Larrain

Certificate 12A

By @RogerCrow

One of the earliest scenes in the new Princess Diana biopic sees the military carry formidable cases into the Queen’s Sandringham Estate kitchen. 

It looks like said boxes might contain heavy artillery, and instantly you feel Spencer could be a thriller. But there’s no rocket launchers or bazookas inside. Just food. Lots of elegant, exotic, beautiful food. 

I’ve never seen such exotic stores of food used in such a weaponised way before, but, given Diana’s often toxic relationship with food or lack of it, the message is obvious. And throughout the movie, that array of produce is everywhere. Sean Harris, light years away from playing the bad guy in the Mission: Impossible movies, is the Royal Head Chef Darren McGrady, who is far closer to screen Diana than Charles is. But then again, just about every non-royal in the movie comes across as more affectionate than the family at the heart of the drama. 

It’s December 1991, and while the royals prepare to spend the Christmas hols at Sandringham, Diana, Princess of Wales, is lost, in more ways than one. Relations with husband Prince Charles are strained to say the least. 

Diana, who (in the movie) clearly has no clue about how to read a map, pulls into a cafe and asks for directions, while stunned staff and punters look on in disbelief. 

Thankfully McGrady crosses paths with her while Diana muses about the long-abandoned neighbouring estate, Park House. It was once her childhood home, and a scarecrow is wearing a coat which may as well be her “Rosebud”. 

While Spencer is no Citizen Kane, it’s arguably more satisfying than Pablo Larrain’s Jackie, a study of JFK’s widow, Jackie Kennedy. That was also a close-up examination of one woman coming to terms with a broken relationship, in that case obviously one shattered by assassination. In this case, estrangement. 

Diana’s fragile mental state and apparent light grip on reality could send the movie into parody, but Larrain and ever reliable writer Steven Knight cleverly weave together imagined dream sequences and reality to the point where you wonder if she does actually eat pearls in her soup, or in the most excruciating scene, cut her arm. 

Kristen Stewart would have been at the bottom of my list of possible thesps to play the key part. However, she captures some of the nuances of the much missed Diana. It’s a more interesting take than The Crown’s interpretation, which will no doubt be dialled down for the next highly anticipated run. 

Solid support comes from the dreamy Sally Hawkins as Maggie, Diana’s Edith Head-inspired dresser, one of the few warm characters in the movie. Emphasis on ‘character’ because obviously this is a version of events rather than the real thing, which few of us were privy to. (If you were, congratulations). 

A bombshell on the beach is a reminder of why Sally is one of our greatest stars. As is Tim Spall, whose Equerry Major Alistair Gregory looks like a faithful bloodhound. 

An early scene is reminiscent of The Shining as Diana has a troubled Christmas Eve binge in a food locker. It’s beautifully handled as Gregory warns of the danger of the Press and their powerful lenses. Clearly this Diana couldn’t care less, despite one of those obligatory Notting Hill-style scenes where the Press go nuts with their cameras, like a pack of ravenous dogs fighting over a scrap of meat. 

Stitching the movie together is Johnny Greenwood’s glorious jazzy bluesy score, which gives Spencer an anything goes quality, and not in the Cole Porter sense. 

The eponymous heroine is obviously hugely troubled, unloved by some, adored by others, and in a limbo state between past and present. 

It’s an odd movie, and as weird, wonderful and unusual as anything you’ll see all year. There are times it’s reminiscent of Darren Aronofsky’s Black Swan, though ‘Wounded Pheasant’ would have been apt, but too brutal an alternate title. 

While some will be annoyed that key roles come across like video game avatars or non-playable characters, Spencer is a fascinating take on a 30-year-old chapter in Diana’s life. 

One of the weirdest touches is the track at the end of the movie, All I Need is a Miracle. I have no idea how important that was to Diana, William and Harry, but the fact it’s rattling through my head the next day means it has a strange new relevance: a catchy, bouncy slice of long forgotten pop that is now synonymous with a freedom of sorts from the madness of a dark fairy tale. 

You may hate it, and I doubt the box office takings will be anything other than modest, but seen in a VIP setting with uber comfy reclining seats, I was transfixed from the first second to the end of those titles. 

Golden Globes, Baftas and Oscars are inevitable, but many such gongs are absolute nonsense as we all know. This is a gloriously offbeat tale that deserves to be seen on the big screen rather than TV where any sense of flow is ruined by your phone sending you irrelevant messages every five minutes. 

Cinematography 8

Cast 9

Script 8

Score 8

Direction 8

Editing 9

Film review – A Bird Flew In (2021)

Starring Morgana Robinson, Sadie Frost, Jeff Fahey

Directed by Kirsty Bell

By @RogerCrow

Some might view A Bird Flew In and think “Pretentious”, but look beyond the monochrome veneer and the occasionally annoying jazzy bluesy soundtrack, and it’s actually an affecting melancholy study of privileged folks wondering if they’ll ever get their film made.

We’ve all been there I’m sure.

Art has to be done in a bubble, because there’s enough naysayers in the real world ready to puncture that sphere of creativity.

It tells the story of when lockdown is imposed, and the cast and crew of a film are taken from the set and sent home – alone. Couples fall apart while others come together. 

A feature composed of six interlinked narratives, the movie examines what happens when we are forced to find the meaning in our lives and loves.

Director Kirsty Bell coaxes fine turns from the starry cast, which includes Derek Jacobi, Jeff Fahey, Sadie Frost and Morgana Robinson. The latter gives a heartbreaking turn when her character finds out about the fate of her sick mum over the phone and realises she can’t see her or say goodbye. 

Achingly sad, and brilliantly performed. 

The whole thing is beautifully crafted and obviously hugely relevant, while reminding us that things will never be the same again. 

I’m sure critics will love it, and it does seem to be made more for the film festival circuit than a mainstream audience. 

Its heart is definitely in the right place even if things could have done with tightening up. 

Kirsty Bell has long been a film-making champion, backing some of the best locally made indies of recent years, including Solis, Mad to be Normal, Await Further Instructions, Dark Encounter, Father of Flies, and recent Netflix confection Father Christmas is Back. 

Good to see she’s now crafting and starring in her own projects. As debut directorial features go, this isn’t perfect, but it’s a fascinating curio that will no doubt have Bafta folks falling over themselves in spring 2022 as the next wave of gongs are dished out. 

Cinematography 8

Cast 8

Direction 7

Script 7

Editing 8

Score 7

Film review-Father Christmas is Back (2021)

Starring Nathalie Cox, Kelsey Grammer, John Cleese

Certificate 12A

By @RogerCrow

It’s a Monday night in the autumn of 2020, and Howden market place has been taken over by a film crew. 

Highfield Grange Studios, located six miles away in Bubwith, have set up camp transforming the place into a festive paradise. Christmas tree, lights, the works. 

Like many locals, I spent an hour or two on set, watching the cast do their thing. 

Fast forward to now, and after a year and a bit of filming and editing, the movie finally arrives on Netflix, but is it any good?

Well, there’s certainly no problems in the cast department. 

Kris Marshall does his deadpan thing as the long suffering husband who has been married for nearly 18 years, but he and his wife (Nathalie Cox) have been sleeping apart for 18 months. 

Their far from humble abode (actually Birdsall House on the edge of the Yorkshire Wolds) is worth about £1billion, and the perfect setting for family festive shenanigans. As we all know there’s nothing funnier than trying to get on with estranged family members at Christmas while staying in a mansion the size of York. Or maybe we don’t. 

Also in the mix is Liz Hurley, who still looks phenomenal, as an uber bitchy sister. She’s Joanna, a fashion editor who goes through men in three-month cycles. 

Her latest boyfriend, Felix (Corrie veteran Ray Fearon) may be at the end of the latest cycle, but his car is worth £300k, so he’s obviously not going to be too distraught if she dumps him. 

John Cleese does his blustering old buffoon routine, which is always a pleasure. Then it’s the star of the show: Kelsey Grammer, who naturally turns up in the sort of black cab never seen in the area. But who cares? When he arrives with a none-too-bright trophy girlfriend (which might have been funny in 1971), the family are shocked. 

He’s the British dad whose surname happens to be Christmas. He lost his English accent, and now lives in Miami, where he dates a series of young women. 

Grammer is superb in one of two locally shot films he made in or around Howden (Miss Willoughby and the Haunted Bookshop will also turn up at some point). 

The whole thing looks fabulous, and there is the odd laugh out loud funny gag. An early one about the National Theatre was brilliantly delivered. 

Solid support comes from Caroline Quentin and Tallulah Riley, while Katy Brand is splendid as a comedy Yorkshire vicar. 

For the most part it has all the substance of one of the later Carry On movies. It’s basically a so-so stage play filmed like an M&S Christmas advert. Some of the gags land, and others are wide of the mark, such as a joke involving a white beauty face mask. 

“Why is C-3PO in my kitchen?” asks the heroine. Which would be funny, if it was a gold mask, or for people who have no knowledge of Star Wars. 

And as we’re in Yorkshire, what could be funnier than a Cow Pat Bingo? Because who hasn’t played that at Christmas? No, me either. Not that it matters. It’s mildly amusing. If you’re 10. A shame this is a 12 certificate. 

Comedy is such a tough nut to crack, so full marks to cast and crew for doing their best with the material. It’s no Love Actually, though obviously it tries to recapture some of that ensemble magic, and not just because Kris Marshall is among the cast. 

There is an attempt to generate some emotion other than slapstick humour. And Grammer reminds us why he is still an A-list star even if he does land a few D-list projects. 

His sparring with screen brother Cleese (who is handily called John) is terrific, and almost begs for a spin-off movie. Grammer’s Bruce Lee moves are also a hoot by the way. 

A few skeletons come tumbling out of the closet in the third act, and naturally there’s a nativity to round things off, because all such ensemble comedies need one of those public event things. Those are the rules of seasonal comedies. 

It’s not the worst festive comedy you’ll see this year, nor is it the best, though at 105 minutes it could have done with at least 10 minutes trimming. 

Nathalie Cox is a genuine star, even when she attempts to pull off one of the goofiest dance routines of 2021. And while the script could have done with as much care and attention as the lavish decorations, if you down enough festive booze, or just go in with zero expectations, then this will add a little sparkle to one of the darkest times of the year. And I wouldn’t be too surprised if the alluded follow-up in the Bahamas sees the light of day at some point. 

Brains in neutral, tipple in hand, settle back and enjoy.

(As a postscript to the above, I’m now watching it again. And no, I don’t have shares in the movie. The gags are mostly dreadful. Okay, 99% of them are bad, but there’s a greatness in its badness. I wouldn’t be surprised if it became a regular event, like a festive Showgirls or Plan 9).

Cast 8

Script 5

Locations 8

Cinematography 8

Editing 7

Direction 7

Kelsey Grammer 9

Father Christmas is Back is streaming now on Netflix

Film review-Repeat (2021)

Starring Tom England, Charlotte Ritchie, Nina Wadia

Directed by Richard Miller

Certificate 12A

By @RogerCrow

How much would be love to talk to those people we’ve lost? Just to tell that late person goodbye, or how much we loved them before the opportunity was snatched away from us?

Of course that universal feeling has been the basis for no end of movies over the years, and when there’s a gadget available for facilitating a connection between now and then, you can usually bet there’s a mystery attached. 

One key rule for these sorts of movies is such gadgets only give protagonists short bursts of information and usually spark out at a key moment. There’s a bad signal, it’s run out of juice, a valve has popped. You get the idea. 

But for all the familiar tropes of Repeat, a touch of Frequency here, a dash of White Noise there, it’s still a pretty compelling watch. 

It helps that the cast are so solid. Tom England gives a fine turn as Ryan Moore, the boffin dabbling with a device which is supposed to contact the dead. However, his gadget, which looks like a basic vlogging ring light connected to a smoking box which uses DNA as a sort of fuel, isn’t quite powerful to operate for more than a few seconds. It’s powered by liquid stuff the hero nicks from work. 

It helps that Charlotte Ritchie is on board as Emily Moore, helping sell the premise with impressive conviction. Her character’s fractured relationship with the obsessed boffin means their marriage is on the rocks, and central to the entire story is the disappearance of their daughter, Sam. She vanished one day after school, and is believed to have been abducted by a mystery man. But who is he, and where is she? Well, all eventually becomes clear with a third act which attempts to tie all the loose ends together. 

Like Carl Strathie’s missing youngster drama Dark Encounter, there are some flashes of brilliance here. The pay-off has that dreamy quality of M Night Shyamalan’s Unbreakable, and writer/director Richard Miller does a fine job with a limited budget. 

Though Repeat could have done with more levity, it’s still well worth a look. 

Cast 8

Script 7

Direction 8

Editing 8

Cinematography 8