Ralph Fiennes in The Choral (2025).

The two highest pro­file releases of the week don’t fea­ture in this news­let­ter and both are examples of a rap­idly chan­ging land­scape — one I’m find­ing it hard to keep up with.

Brett Ratner’s ‘doc­u­ment­ary’ Melania sucked up all the column inches but des­pite its notori­ety couldn’t find a screen in Wellington to show it. For once, our cine­mat­ic poverty works to our advant­age. If you’re at all inter­ested in the actu­al film, the editor-in-chief poin­ted me at this excel­lent sum­mary of glob­al reviews. They all watched it so I didn’t have to1.

In argu­ably more seis­mic news, the film with the biggest box office res­ults in Australia and New Zealand last week­end was a self-funded hor­ror called Iron Lung by someone the press release calls a ‘YouTube megastar’, Mark “Markiplier” Fischbach. I saw the phrase “self-funded” in the Flicks sum­mary — and hav­ing had some­thing of my fill of hor­ror over the last couple of years — gave it a swerve. Clearly, though, 50 mil­lion social media fol­low­ers ( 38 mil­lion on YouTube alone) provided enough weight to make it a cul­tur­al phe­nomen­on and it means I have to make some adjust­ments to my thinking.

I don’t spend much time on YouTube and try to remem­ber to not be logged in to any iden­ti­fi­able account when I do. I’ve seen it mostly as a force for social tox­icity des­pite the fact that I use it to learn how to do weird little things all the time. So, while the algorithm has turned a great many ordin­ary young folk into tra­gic incel white suprem­acists, the plat­form itself is some­thing I finally have to reck­on with. Even the BBC recently announced that they would be mak­ing ori­gin­al pro­gram­ming espe­cially for YouTube this year.

This was also the week that The Atlantic pub­lished an art­icle about how teach­ers of film stud­ies are hav­ing dif­fi­culty get­ting stu­dents to actu­ally sit all the way through the films:

Akira Mizuta Lippit, a cinema and media-studies pro­fess­or at the University of Southern California—home to per­haps the top film pro­gram in the country—said that his stu­dents remind him of nicot­ine addicts going through with­draw­al dur­ing screen­ings: The longer they go without check­ing their phone, the more they fid­get. Eventually, they give in. He recently screened the 1974 Francis Ford Coppola clas­sic The Conversation. At the out­set, he told stu­dents that even if they ignored parts of the film, they needed to watch the fam­ously essen­tial and proph­et­ic final scene. Even that request proved too much for some of the class. When the scene played, Lippit noticed that sev­er­al stu­dents were star­ing at their phones, he told me. “You do have to just pay atten­tion at the very end, and I just can’t get every­body to do that,” he said.

Having said that, the film that promp­ted all the queues at my loc­al mul­ti­plex this week­end was an anniversary screen­ing of The Lord of the Rings so maybe the clas­sics can endure.

Back to this week’s new releases and I enjoyed Ralph Fiennes in the UK his­tor­ic­al drama, The Choral. It was an “O.K. Choral”, if you will2. Fiennes plays a choir­mas­ter asked to steer the chor­al soci­ety of a small Yorkshire town, decim­ated by the loss of male voices to World War One. Fiennes’ char­ac­ter has to battle class as well as war­time pre­ju­dice — he spent most of his pro­fes­sion­al career in Germany where the good music gets made — and the even­tu­al choice of Elgar’s 1900 epic ora­tor­io, The Dream of Gerontius, is a clev­er one.

Firstly, from a story point of view, it gives the choir some­thing decidedly English to per­form — an affec­tion for England des­pite its faults being a sub­text of The Choral — but it also asks mod­ern cinema audi­ences to con­sider some­thing out­side of the clas­sic­al big hits rep­er­toire for a change. When the per­son sit­ting next to me asked her com­pan­ion what she thought of the music, the replay was “Not much.” That new-fangled 125-year-old mod­ern music!

Screenwriter Alan Bennett is a nation­al treas­ure in England and watch­ing The Choral was like enjoy­ing a fine piece of crafts­man­ship. Not too inspir­ing but everything in its place and beau­ti­fully turned out.

Sam Raimi is also a crafts­man but might not fall into the cat­egory of nation­al treas­ure just yet. Send Help is his first engage­ment with ori­gin­al (i.e.not fran­chise or pre-existing) mater­i­al since Drag Me to Hell in 20093.

At one point in Send Help, Rachel McAdams’ Linda Liddle — an unap­pre­ci­ated strategy exec­ut­ive in a big con­sultancy firm forced to use the know­ledge gained from her Survivor fan­dom to keep her­self and her boss alive after a plane crash strands them on a deser­ted island — says that “mon­sters are not born, they’re made”, an obser­va­tion that will become true of her and Dylan O’Brien’s boor­ish and entitled exec­ut­ive as the film goes on.

Mark Swift and Damian Shannon’s script takes a dim view of human beings and our obses­sions about power and con­trol but I’m not sure that’s quite what I want to see at this par­tic­u­lar stage in our evol­u­tion. I’m more inter­ested in our bet­ter natures but I expect I’ll come to appre­ci­ate Send Help more when cir­cum­stances are less desperate.

As American war­ships con­greg­ate with­in shoot­ing dis­tance of Iran, I’m reminded of how Iranian cinema has — time and time again — taught me about the incred­ible com­plex­ity of this enorm­ous coun­try and how much I don’t know about ordin­ary life there. Jafar Panahi’s It Was Just an Accident is anoth­er of his films that were made under try­ing cir­cum­stances— no per­mits and the risk of going back to jail lurk­ing around every corner.

In Accident, a mech­an­ic hears the dis­tinct­ive sound of a client’s pros­thet­ic leg and is con­vinced that it belongs to the man who tor­tured him as a polit­ic­al pris­on­er. Revenge being a dish best shared, he takes the man cap­tive and gath­ers a group of oth­er vic­tims to decide what to do. But because none of them ever saw this man’s face, there’s a tiny ele­ment of doubt. That doubt prompts an argu­ment — and there are many, many noisy argu­ments — about what they should do, if anything.

Nothing is simple and everybody’s pos­i­tion is filtered through unima­gin­able trauma. It’s a mor­al tale in the way that Send Help is an immor­al one. It’s also often very funny, the absurdity of their situ­ation grow­ing with every ques­tion­able decision.

Full marks must be giv­en to pro­du­cer Jason Momoa for using Jeff Bezos’s money to make a cred­it­able action com­edy that also sneaks in an argu­ment for Hawaiian indi­gen­ous inde­pend­ence at the same time. The Wrecking Crew is much bet­ter than most of the Amazon Saturday night ran­dom buddy films I’ve put myself through, largely because that mor­al­ity (again) is at its core. I find it to be much easi­er to accept the level of viol­ence in mod­ern movies when the vil­lain­ous beha­viour so clearly deserves it4.

Momoa is joined by Dave Bautista as estranged half-brothers forced to work togeth­er to solve the murder of their private invest­ig­at­or fath­er. Bautista is, as we have come to expect, excel­lent. Considering he’s the same age as your cor­res­pond­ent, he’s look­ing very good, but I do won­der why act­ors spend hours in the makeup chair to cov­er up their exist­ing tat­toos only to put new fake ones on top of them. This feels inef­fi­cient to me.

Local audi­ences will be dis­trac­ted by the extent to which Auckland plays the part of Hawaii — New Zealand kit­chens just don’t look any­thing like American kit­chens, have you seen the size of their appli­ances? — but you have to respect Momoa con­tinu­ing to believe that Huntly (Idaho in A Minecraft Movie) and Pukekohe (Oklahoma in The Wrecking Crew) are fool­ing anyone.


  1. I hate that joke … usu­ally. ↩︎
  2. If you appre­ci­ate this pun then you are wel­come here forever. ↩︎
  3. “Talking of digit­al arte­facts, the new Sam Raimi film Drag Me To Hell is a return to the (mostly) ana­logue hor­ror form of his early hits like Evil Dead. Ordinary bank work­er Allison Lohman is on the verge of get­ting engaged and get­ting a pro­mo­tion until (to fur­ther her bank­ing ambi­tions) she declines a mort­gage exten­sion to a gypsy woman with bad teeth. She gets a nasty case of the curses, with only two days to pass it on or give it away before being con­signed to Hades forever.
    Raimi’s a bit of a one-trick-pony in the shocks depart­ment – it does get a bit repet­it­ive – but the film is well plot­ted and kicks on at a good pace and Lohman is per­fectly fine as the Kirsten Dunst you get when you can’t get Kirsten Dunst.” – Capital Times (29 July 2009) ↩︎
  4. Case in point: The Beekeeper with Jason Statham. The ini­ti­at­ing crime in that film is so hein­ous, I almost offered to jump in and help mete out all that tacit­urn justice myself. ↩︎

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