EGGHEAD AND TWINKIE - BFI Flare Film Festival review

At the start of the summer before he heads off to college, lovestruck Egghead (Louis Tomeo) decides to tell his best friend Twinkie (Sabrina Jie-A-Fa) how he really feels about her. The only problem is the relationship is definitively platonic from her point of view, and she's not told Egghead that she's gay and in love with a DJ she met online. When animator Twinkie sees an opportunity to visit her wannabe lover in Texas under the ruse of visiting an animation studio, she steals her dad's car and ropes the unwitting Egghead into making the long journey with her.

Based on her 2019 short film of the same name and re-uniting all of the same key cast members, Sarah Kambe Holland's debut feature delivers a fun spin on some tried and tested teen movie staples. Sharing a basic plot outline with Rob Reiner's under-appreciated 1985 John Cusack-starring road trip comedy, The Sure Thing (an at odds pair head out on the road with one of them given the promise of romance and/or sex at the final destination; they encounter vehicular trouble and comedy ensues), Egghead and Twinkie find their friendship put to the test when things inevitably start to go awry for them on their journey, although at least here there's little chance of romance suddenly blossoming between them. Spoiler alert, there's no last minute changes of sexual preference from Twinkie.

Where the film does veer off course from the expected norm is in the consideration of Twinkie's status as a young Asian-American woman with no links to her heritage. Adopted by her ultra-conservative white parents with an unspoken pre-requisite to conform in every way she can, Vivian aka Twinkie (her nickname itself a co-opted racial insult implying she's "yellow on the outside, white on the inside") needs to explore her Asian identity as well as her sexuality, and neither her parents or her supportive best friend Egghead can offer help with either. She's not just running towards her potential future as an out and proud lesbian, but also away from the confines her home life have put on her. Enter sweet Japanese waitress Jess (Asahi Hirano) who finds herself thrown into the middle of Twinkie's quest, and is more than willing to help guide her to a place where she's more comfortable with herself.

Mixing animation with live action, Egghead and Twinkie offers some cute Scott Pilgrim-esque cutaways to brighten up what is already a very cheerful, teen-friendly rainbow-coloured palette. Its unavoidable sweetness means the story is barely stretched in dramatic terms, with Twinkie's potential paramour B.D. (social media star Ayden Lee) offering the only glimmer of a more complex view of modern relationships, rendering the film relatively chaste and more focussed on finding something deep and meaningful... love. Told partly through flashbacks (including Egghead's disastrous movie theatre declaration of his true feelings for Twinkie), it may be blindingly obvious as the story progresses where we're going to end up, but the cast are all extremely likeable, the dynamics between them (in particular Jie-A-Fa and Hirano) work very well, and the film's more farcical elements are delivered with good comedic effect.

A modern, queer addition to the teen comedy genre, Egghead and Twinkie might not win awards for originality, but it's colourful, vibrant and super sweet, with solid chemistry between the leads.

Verdict

3.5/5

Egghead and Twinkie screened as part of this year's BFI Flare Film Festival. More information about the festival and its line-up can be found here.

LINOLEUM - London Film Festival 2022

When Cameron, the host of a TV science show and wannabe astronaut meets his more successful doppelgänger, he's sent into an existential crisis that will affect his whole family. With his career and personal life in a mess, his only response is to build a rocket of his own and fulfilling his dream of journeying into space. A suburban sci-fi fantasy, Colin West's Linoleum was part of the cult strand at this year's London Film Festival.

Comedian and actor Jim Gaffigan stars as Cameron, the host of Above and Beyond, a Bill Nye the Science Guy-style local TV show that asks questions about the universe, relegated to a late night slot where none of his core audience can see it. His wife Erin (Rhea Seahorn) is unhappy in the marriage and wants a divorce, his teenage daughter (Katelyn Nacon) barely talks to him, and worst of all, a car has seemingly fallen from the sky carrying Cameron's more debonair, successful, astronaut lookalike. All of this serves to send him into an existential crisis that he might not recover from.

It's not unheard of that twisty-turny, timey-wimey sci-fi films end up sharing basic story elements. The biggest problem that Linoleum has is that, despite its attempts to offer something new, it all feels familiar. Sometimes uncomfortably so. The suburban dad mid-life crisis has been seen in everything from Kevin Spacey in American Beauty to Chevy Chase as Clark Griswold in the Vacation films, grimacing through the pain in order to maintain the air of normality in their life. That's forgivable to a point. What is less easy to forgive and, frankly, impossible to ignore is Linoleum's biggest problem... the Donnie Darko problem.

Wilfully poaching characters, story beats and entire scenes from Richard Kelly's 2001sci-fi classic, one of Linoleum's early scenes sees Darko's slo-mo arrival at school sequence (indelibly set to Tears for Fears' Head Over Heels) cloned almost shot for shot, with askew camera angles and staccato frame speeds. The film also features a Grandma Death-esque figure, mysteriously standing off in the distance observing the main characters without any real interaction. On the more egregiously blatant side of thievery (we're way beyond homage here), the main characters even have an unidentifiable jet engine land on their house. It's unthinkable that writer/director Colin West thought the comparisons could exist without comment.

The saving grace of this Darko mirroring is The Walking Dead's Katelyn Nacon as Gaffigan's daughter Nora, who takes on a sort of gender-swapped Donnie role, crossed with his girlfriend Gretchen. With respect to Gaffigan who gives his dual roles his all, Nacon is absolutely the shining star of this often baffling film, providing a confident, charming, yet still weird character who's easy to root for as she builds an unconventional relationship with new neighbour boy and son of Cameron's rival, Marc (Gabriel Rush). In what could have easily been a stock Manic Pixie character, she gives the film real heart in among the doppelgänger/time paradox shenanigans.

With a concept stretched to its absolute limit (it's no surprise to learn West expanded this from an earlier short film), despite first appearances as a semi-generic sci-fi brain muddler with obvious filmic influences, come the finale and a big reveal, Linoleum manages to impressively knit itself together to deliver something truly surprising and actually moving. It's just a shame that for the bulk of the film, Linoleum feels disappointingly derivative, like West fell asleep in front of an old cathode ray TV showing Donnie Darko, American Beauty and Bill Nye, and this is the script they wrote when they woke up.

Verdict

2.5/5

Linoleum was part of this year's London Film Festival. It does not currently have a UK release date.

THE HERMIT OF TREIG review

After living a lone, solitary life for 40 years, you'd expect Ken Smith to be a grumpy old loner. On the contrary, his is a life built on his own desire to live life on his own terms, but he's welcoming to those who pass by his little cabin on the hills surrounding Loch Treig. Among those visitors is debut director Lizzie MacKenzie, who after knowing Ken for 7 years, persuaded him to allow her to document his unique day to day life.

With a shared passion for photography that's helped forge their bond (Ken has spent decades capturing the beauty of the Loch and the flora and fauna of the surrounding woodlands), Lizzie - whose voice is ever present off camera, talking to Ken - tries to find out why Ken chose this lifestyle, and what he will do when it becomes too unsafe for a man of his advancing years to live so far away from the rest of the world.

Suffering a traumatic attack when he was 26 that lead to a brain haemorrhage and told he'd never walk or talk again, Ken defied the odds by recovering, then decided not to live on anyone else's terms again. After travelling the world he settled at Loch Treig because of its unique beauty and isolated nature. "It's known as the lonely Loch. There's no roads here". Building his own log cabin filled with diaries, notebooks, photographs and slides, living his life the way he wants has been his life's work - but with his once dark hair and beard as white as the snow on the ground around his cabin, the question of what his remaining days will be like lingers, despite Ken's assertion that he plans to live to 102. He knows he didn't choose an easy life, having to walk 27 miles to nearby Fort William and back again when he needs to do something as everyday as posting a letter, but he clearly feels at home on the banks of the Loch, stating "I think if you love the land, it sort of loves you back. It loves you in all the things it produces for you".

The Hermit of Treig is a wonderfully moving, deeply personal documentary about life, ageing, and most importantly, those connections with others that add joy to our lives. His only regular contact with the outside world is a beacon he has to use once a week so the local authorities know he's okay, but Ken clearly loves having Lizzie around, eagerly showing photos of the first log cabin he built before it burnt down - even going so far as to mock up a charming miniature replica from sticks - and playing up to the camera with his many weather-worn hats, and she similarly enjoys his company too, her camera quietly picking up on his failing memory when he misses diary entries or forgets conversations about his blooming roses. It's a gentle, thoughtful commentary that's respectful of Ken and his tenacity.

A fascinating character study with a real emotional punch over the sacrifices his way of life have cost him (Ken reads a letter he sent to his parents when on his travels, hoping they'd meet him at Heathrow airport but unaware they'd passed away in his absence), it in turn shows the strength Ken draws from the landscape around him. As he puts it, "it's a nice life, ain't it? Everybody wishes they could do it, but nobody ever does." The strikes of his axe might be coming down softer than in previous years, but in spite of his wavering vision and balance and a health scare that leads to a brief hospitalisation, he's not ready to give up his singular world just yet, and who could blame him.

Verdict

4/5

COP SECRET - BFI Flare Film Festival review

Going to extreme measures to protect the mean streets of Reykjavik, no nonsense cop Bússi (Auðunn Blöndal) is known as the toughest cop around. But when a merging of departments sees him given a new partner in the form of Bess (Egill Einarsson), a sharp suited detective also known for getting results, the two must work together to solve a madman's plot to blow up the city's stadium whilst Bússi also confronts the new feelings he has when he's around Bess.

Kicking off with an all-action car chase across Reykjavik, we're introduced to the Jason Statham-alike Bússi, (all shaved head and leather jacket) a gruff, manly cop who's not keen on being paired up with the well groomed Bess, a pansexual detective who's going to challenge Bússi to the title of best cop around. Paired together to solve a plot to blow up Reykjavik's stadium during the Iceland v England Women's World Cup, they find themselves quickly falling for each other.

The mismatched duo forced to work together until they find common ground is a long standing cliche in Hollywood, particularly with cop movies starring big, bald actors about renegade detectives who don't play by the rules. Such is the height of hyper-masculinity in action movies that it's surprising it's taken this long for someone to take the next logical step, converting that homo-eroticism into a full blown romance between its two leading men. With a wry comedic set up backing up the all action premise, surely it's a formula that can't fail? Sadly, Cop Secret, despite its best efforts, is not the success it should have been. There's things to enjoy in its appreciation of action movies, from its ridiculous villain, Rikki Ferrari (inexplicably, but enjoyably, the only character who speaks English language at all times), angry shouty police chiefs, to adhering to the classic buddy comedy formula, albeit with the obvious twist thrown in.

But in sticking so close to a formula the story feels far too generic, taking inspiration from bad cop movies but not turning those ideas into something more exciting. For want of a better term, Cop Secret plays it straight-faced, but when skewering the action genre cliches, the likes of Edgar Wright's Hot Fuzz and Shane Black's Kiss Kiss Bang Bang did it better. Let's be clear that Cop Secret isn't actively trying to compete with the likes of Vin Diesel, Jason Statham and The Rock, with some ropey digital explosions showing the budgetary limitations. But it is offering a commentary on Hollywood's action genre cinema, including its aversion to including anything openly queer within its narrative, and has some success with that. There's nothing scandalous or inappropriate about the central love affair, and it's there the film does break some new ground.

Directed by Hannes Halldórsson, an Icelandic goalkeeper turned filmmaker - and written by Halldórsson and his two leading men - it's a genre experiment that you find yourself willing to be better, so close it is to striking gold by mixing up the action genre formulas. Sadly, the end result doesn't quite work as a spoof, satire or straight-up action flick.

Verdict

2.5/5

Cop Secret screened as part of this year's BFI Flare Film Festival. More information about the festival and the films included can be found here.

A-HA: THE MOVIE - Glasgow Film Festival review

Following Norwegian pop-stars A-Ha as they prepare for their latest tour, this new documentary reveals a wealth of information about the band's history, their solo projects, and how they crafted their most widely known contribution to pop, their 1985 classic hit, Take On Me.

Having sold in excess of 50 million albums over the last 40 years, A-Ha are still touring to this day. In preparation for their most recent stretch of shows and a coveted appearance on MTV's Unplugged, the band allowed cameras to follow their rehearsal progress, including personal interviews that reveal what has kept Norway's biggest musical export going for so long.

In a creative decision that was inevitable, the filmmakers employ the pencil sketch animation style of Steve Barron's classic music video for Take On Me, which - although impressively rendered - mercifully only lasts the duration of the introductory flashbacks that reveal the band members' childhoods. Around the first 15 minutes of the film. It's fitting that the iconic visual motif is used to this extent, as the whole film could be about the band's desire to escape from the long shadow their biggest hit has cast over them. They may have been accused of being 'one hit wonders' over the years, but racked up a number of hits (including the Bond theme for The Living Daylights). Even so, they would freely admit that their career has been defined by their signature song.

The pop band biopic has seen some interesting new twists in recent years, perhaps most notably Bros's After The Screaming Stops which leaned heavily on the ridiculous Anvil-like aspects of pop stardom, painting the brothers Goss to be somewhat disconnected from reality. Here directors Thomas Robsahm and Aslaug Holm deliver a much more grounded portrait of their subjects, largely thanks to the influence of Magne and Pål, the two key songwriters of the group. We get to learn about the band's humble origins, from schoolboy musical experimentation between Magne and Pål, to the bizarre coincidence that one of the witnesses to Magne's father's plane crash death was his future bandmate, Morten, years before they met. Propelled by a strange sense of destiny that the trio were going to perform together, they reminisce how as cocksure teenagers they manifested "we're going to be international popstars... Norway's too small for us" before heading off to London in 1981 in search of fame, fortune and that elusive chart-topper.

If you know anything about A-Ha, other than their early success with the MTV hit Take On Me and their Bond theme for The Living Daylights, it's probably focused on frontman Morten Harket, and the legions of adoring fans he has maintained since the 80s. A striking, elfish looking man who has the level of sex appeal you'd hope a lead singer to have, this meant that his two bandmates were pushed out of frame somewhat. Thankfully for the band's harmony, this film makes clear that Magne and Pål neither courted this kind of attention or begrudge Morten for having it. Throughout the film there's a number of comic moments where they see the funny side of being an after thought when greeted by hoteliers and fans across the world who want to fawn all over Morten, who's perfected a polite smile for the camera when he's clearly weary of the attention he receives.

What's surprising about this documentary is that it avoids the temptation to focus its attention on frontman Morten (who, frankly, is the least interesting of the three), giving the same weight to Magne and Pål's lives and projects away from the band. There's equal narration from all three men, and a revealing look at their surprising musical and artistic depths that would be unknown to all but the most hardcore of fans. There's also discontent within the band always threatening to bubble up to the surface, namely the age old issue with songwriting credits and the share of the royalties. It's here the documentary has the most drama, with the highlight being the deep dive into the production of Take On Me in the early-to-mid 80s. Based on a keyboard riff Magne wrote at 14 years old but largely credited to Pål, it went through numerous guises (different versions were released at least twice in various territories) before emerging as the reworked synth-pop classic we all know and love.

Still, despite the usual dramas you'd expect to find in a band who've been together for 40 years, A-Ha: The Movie doesn't offer much in a way of turmoil. There's a hint that producing a new record might bring old resentments to the front, but they're clearly a tight-knit unit that still pack stadiums on tours, and have been an acknowledged influence on bands like Coldplay. A-Ha: The Movie is a fan-pleasing portrait of the band, but for newcomers or casual observers will offer a surprising level of detail about their long career too.

Verdict

3.5/5

A-Ha: The Movie screened as part of this year's Glasgow Film Festival. More information about the festival can be found here.

ONCE UPON A TIME IN UGANDA - Glasgow Film Festival review

Growing up watching the Sly Stallone and Chuck Norris action films of the 1980s, Isaac Nabwana dreamt of one day making his own films in his home town of Wakaliga, Uganda. Armed with a digital camera and his own ingenuity building sets, props and camera jibs, as well as drafting in locals to stars for his super low budget action extravaganzas, his films soon found a dedicating cult following online. Among those fans was New York based filmmaker Alan Hofmanis who, after seeing Isaac's film, Who Killed Captain Alex? back in 2012, decided to move to Uganda to help build this emerging film industry, better known as Wakaliwood.

Directed by Cathryne Czubek and Hugo Perez, this documentary explores Isaac's filmmaking techniques on little to no budget (estimates for the overall production cost for Who Killed Captain Alex? range from $85 up to $200), and Alan's efforts to launch Isaac to a wider global audience, acting as producer, promoter, boom operator, as well as getting roped into appearing in some films as the only Muzungu (white man) in the area, and therefore the perfect casting for a specific Ugandan movie trope - "beat up the white man". The only problem is finding him a suitable stunt double - something they get around by 'whiting up' a black actor.

In what many would deem to be an act of madness, this doc effectively captures why Hofmanis would be willing to uproot his entire life for this emerging film industry. A struggling filmmaker himself, it's quite touching how sincere his appreciation for Isaac's films is despite their clear budgetary limitations, and his non-wavering belief that he could be the next big thing if audiences are given the opportunity to see such films as Crazy World, Bad Black, and the upcoming Ebola Hunter. There's a great dynamic between the two men, and despite their cultural differences the only real signs of artistic discontent appear when a high profile local media mogul offers Isaac the opportunity to make a Captain Alex TV series for his network, something Alan feels will distract from his efforts to launch Isaac's films internationally, with the prospect that the Toronto International Film Festival will be willing to feature his latest film at one of their legendary and influential Midnight Madness screenings.

Wakaliwood is proper low budget, DIY filmmaking that makes Troma or The Asylum look like a 300 million Michael Bay production, offering something so pure and unjaded about the filmmaking process that Isaac and Alan are easy figures to root for. It's open for debate as to whether Isaac is the next big action movie director or more akin to Tommy Wiseau or Neil Breen, but you can't dispute his commitment to filmmaking and making it an integral part of his community, going so far as to train the local kids in martial arts so they can one day appear in one of his films.

Radiating with a love for action movies, Once Upon a Time in Uganda is a fascinating look at what collaboration and the filmmaking process can create, showing how a lack of budget can't get in the way of the joy of bringing people together through cinema.

Verdict

3/5

Once Upon a Time in Uganda screened as part of this year's Glasgow Film Festival. More information about the festival can be found here.

ANGRY YOUNG MEN - Glasgow Film Festival review

When one their gang is found beaten and bloodied, The Bramble Boys discover a new group of heavies called The Campbell Group have moved in on their territory, and are recruiting the youths from the estate so they can gain control of the local milk round. Soon enough, spilt milk turn to spilt blood as the rival gangs embark on a bitter turf war and bodies start to pile up when gang warfare breaks out.

To quote Sean Connery's character in The Untouchables, "they send one of yours to the hospital, you send one of theirs to the morgue". Well, Angry Young Men has a new take on that, instead delivering justice in a bloody wheelie bin. Written and directed by Paul Morris (who also stars as gang leader, Jimmy), Angry Young Men follows the Bramble Boys of Mauchton as they try to protect their estate from interlopers, The Campbell Group. Although the Campbells are better organised and increasingly bigger in number, Jimmy's gang isn't going to back down without a fight.

Produced on a low budget I wouldn't ever dare to guess, Angry Young Men is a testament to what you can do with minimal money but real filmmaking ingenuity. The camera equipment is probably of the kind you could pick up in the sale at Argos and some of the acting is a bit sketchy at times, but when a film is produced with such an independent spirit, I wouldn't hold those things against it for one second. In fact, it all adds to the appeal, as this is an easy film to want to champion. In this alternate world where the ultimate goal is the control of milk supply and gangs walk around in garish uniforms (the Brambles in berets and camouflage ponchos, the Campbells in bomber jackets and white balaclavas), Morris hasn't allowed his ambition to be restrained by the budget, with drone shots and camera moves that give a real sense of the location and its surroundings, as evidenced in an early chase scene between a guy on crutches and four guys in a black Nissan that's well orchestrated and surprisingly tense. It's also pretty funny throughout, with a dry wit cutting through some of the weirder, more fantastical elements of the plot.

Crucially, despite the odd chuckle at some of the homemade elements (the priest employed for a funeral service has the worst makeshift dog collar I've ever seen), I don't think I was ever not laughing with the film. Fully aware of what its shortcomings are, Morris has clauses written into the script to explain some of the more glaring inconsistencies. Some of the actors' hair inexplicably grows a lot between scenes, but when one of the key characters is told to shave off his hitherto present goatee, it's clearly to cover some out of sequence shooting and a gap in filming. Still, despite the rough edges (or more accurately, because of), even if the ambition outstrips the budgetary restraints, Angry Young Men is so watchable that it's an easy film to cheer on, regardless. It might feel a bit amateur at times, but it also brings to mind the early films of Peter Jackson - like Bad Taste minus the gore. Last time I checked Jackson had done pretty well for himself, and I wouldn't bet against Paul Morris achieving something similar.

I've attended this year's Glasgow Film Festival without actually going to Glasgow, instead watching the films virtually at home. Of all the great films on the line up, this is the one I'm absolutely gutted I wasn't able to experience with a crowd. Needless to say, when and if this gets a general release and makes it into cinemas, I'll be there with a camouflage poncho on. It's fucking brilliant.

The wee bastard offspring of Walter Hill's The Warriors and Peter Mullan's NEDS, Paul Morris's micro-budget feature Angry Young Men is one of the highlights of this year's Glasgow Film Festival.

Verdict

3.5/5

Angry Young Men was part of this year's Glasgow Film Festival. You can find out more about the festival here.

REBEL DREAD - Glasgow Film Festival review

Rebel Dread tells the story of photographer, DJ, musician and filmmaker Don Letts. Fronted by the man himself, this documentary charts the many twists and turns throughout Letts's life that saw him go from manager of Vivienne Westwood and Malcolm McLaren's shop, Acme Attractions, to touring the world as a filmmaker & musician, and beyond.

It's become something of a cliche to soundtrack any archival footage of London in the 1970s with The Clash's London Calling, but for once given Letts's connection with the band (directing a number of music videos for them, including London Calling), it's appropriate. Over images of civil unrest, Letts narrates his early life in Brixton where he immediately stood out as a flashy dresser and cool looking guy, vying for and getting the attention of the local cultural elite. It's a lively retelling of his life story, from chubby teenager (or as his brother Desmond ruthlessly describes, "a fat motherfucker") to DJ at The Roxy at the height of punk, to eventually filming the bands on stage and turning that into a highly successful career directing music videos, until Letts decided he wanted a piece of that stardom, co-founding Big Audio Dynamite with ex-The Clash member, Mick Jones.

An affectionate look at Letts' life and varied career - where the film falters is the unavoidable problem of having Letts tell his own story. Sure, he's in the position to tell it better than anyone else, but there's the inescapable feeling that he's told these stories so many times that these are the carefully curated versions of the truth. He's a great orator and fantastic at building his own myth, but serving as exec producer and main storyteller, Letts is in clear control of what information were given, and crucially, what we're not. It's not completely a self-aggrandising, back-slapping affair - most notably when Letts reckons with his role as an absent parent whilst touring the world, coupled with his infidelity - but it teeters on the precipice of it, mercifully pulled away at the right moment with additional important voices from his life, chief among them Mick Jones, and Letts's former partner, Jeannette Lee of Public Image Ltd.

At its most revealing and personal when it gets to Letts search for his roots, kickstarted by a trip to Jamaica with John Lydon, it's here where Letts's cultural commentator mask slips the most, offering something that goes some way into distilling the man and his relentless drive for success, approval and legitimacy as a Black, British man working with the biggest names in punk. He's a genuinely fascinating subject, with a life like no other that has almost been engineered by Letts by chance, thanks to his unwavering bravery and ability to build upon the connections he's made in his life, such as how he became friends with Bob Marley in London, largely through force of willing it to happen.

In a career that saw Letts take a long time to decide what path he wanted to follow - DJ, band manager, photographer, musician, filmmaker - this film establishes that he was all those things at any given moment, and capable of doing it well. He estimates he made around 400 music videos for PiL, The Clash and more - let's not forget Musical Youth's Pass the Dutchie - and Rebel Dread proves that Letts's has an astounding level of intelligence, creatively and bravery. I certainly wouldn't write him off playing another important role in music, should he choose he wants it.

Verdict

3/5

Rebel Dread screened as part of the Glasgow Film Festival and is now on general release. More information about the festival can be found here.

BLACK BEAR review

Successful indie filmmaker Allison (Aubrey Plaza), visits a lakeside cabin owned by married couple Gabe and Blair (Sarah Gadon and Christopher Abbott) for some relaxation whilst she works on her latest script. As they all sit down for dinner together and the tensions between musician Gabe and his pregnant wife Blair start to flare up, heated conversation turns into bitter accusations of infidelity, and a shift in their dynamics reveals the full extent of who is lying to us and their motivations for doing so.

The second feature film of Lawrence Michael Levine (after his 2014 debut Wild Canaries, starring Alia Shawkat, Jason Ritter and himself), Black Bear arrives with some fanfare after its debut at last year's Sundance, and not without justification. A sexually charged mystery with layers of intrigue and a 180 turn you won't predict, what stands out most in need of praise are the performances, in particular Plaza as the manipulative and - at least on some level - deceitful Allison. She is the most forthright and abrasive character of the core trio, seemingly unconcerned about how her actions would effect the pregnant Blair, holding information back to toy with her host and paint a different picture of herself, before the second portion of the film shows that Allison's not the only one who's capable of plotting a story for her own amusement.

In a cast that comes pre-loaded with indie cred, alongside Plaza is Christopher Abbott, increasingly headed towards major stardom after impressive turns in It Comes At Night, Piercing and this year's Possessor. His character is selfish, obnoxious and manipulative of the two women he shares the cabin with, failing to hide his misogyny and true personality (plus defects) to them, and us, blaming feminism for the decline of the traditional American family and the rise of nationalism. It's these ideas of duplicity and performance that are at the heart of the film, none more so in the stand-out performance of Plaza as a woman pushed to her emotional limits by the cruel, callous, deceptive acts of an other. 

Once the power structure in the film flips on its head and destructive domestic disputes suddenly spill out for all present to see, both Plaza and writer/director Levine are on record that this takes inspiration from real life experiences both have faced when working on film sets with respective partners, asking important questions about how far boundaries can be pushed in the creation of art, and the emotional toil actors - willingly or not - will go through in the pursuit of a believable performance. If you're aware of the cruel treatment of Shelley Duvall on the set of Stanley Kubrick's The Shining that lead to her abandoning her acting career, think along those lines.

To say much more about the film's second mode would be a spoiler for what is a genuinely surprising and intriguing set-up, but I will say that the way Black Bear shifts the direction of its story after the conclusion of the first chapter brings to mind David Lynch's Mulholland Drive and Lost Highway, whilst also staying more grounded in reality than those two. It's a film that ably injects real tension between its characters in its first half via a flirty foxtrot, then twists the narrative into something that is recognisable but different from before in order to allow its cast to show what they're capable of in a world that is both more farcical but troubling. It's an often tough, harrowing watch, but given the layer of artifice that's built into the film's narrative there's an ever-present distance as an audience that's hard to shake. As such, it's near impossible to provide a wholly satisfying narrative conclusion, but it's the performances (chiefly that of Plaza) that will stay with you long after the film has wrapped.

Verdict

4/5

AIDS DIVA: THE LEGEND OF CONNIE NORMAN - BFI Flare Film Festival 2021 review

Telling the story of Connie Norman, the HIV-positive, transgender former sex-worker who became a leading voice in ACT UP's political activism to fight the AIDS epidemic in the late 80s, director Dante Alencastre's AIDS Diva hopes to acknowledge the contribution this forgotten figurehead had to the movement and establish her legacy for a new generation.

Connie lead quite the remarkable life, having once worked as a drag queen in San Francisco before turning tricks and doing time in prison, then transitioning and becoming one of the most visible (and vocal) transgender people of the era through her work with the direct action group ACT UP/LA upon the outbreak of AIDS. Leading marches and making powerful statements from the podium about the "genocidal neglect of Reagan and Bush", she gained a level of notoriety that lead to appearances on radio and TV as a reliably opinionated firebrand. As a transgender woman, this step into the forefront of political activism was something Connie was hesitant to do at first, having faced negativity towards her trans status from some areas of the gay community and within AIDS activism, but following her own diagnosis of HIV-positive in 1987 she felt she needed to be a part of the fight.

A natural leader who people listened to, the way Connie is portrayed in the wealth of archive video footage that's in AIDS Diva - of week long vigils outside hospitals demanding more beds for patients and marching on the streets - could be used as a guide on how to become an activist. At a time where we have hoards of people campaigning across the world over social, racial and healthcare issues, AIDS Diva is incredibly timely in its portrayal of how to make change through the power of making your collective voice heard. Although Norman passed away many years ago, there's plenty of her contemporaries eager to offer anecdotes of the ferocious nature of Connie, and help tell her story in the early years of the HIV/AIDS crisis, along with more personal expressions from her "Tribal Writes" newspaper column.

Within the footage of Connie is her appearances on right-wing "moral panic" lead talk shows like Wally George, knowing her presence would push a few buttons in the audience but also hopefully nudge a few people in the right direction. There's a great term Connie uses during an interview, talking about "GOB-ism", referring to the small minded "Good Ol' Boys" she had to deal with growing up as a queer kid in Texas, who she now saw as the same people running the country and neglecting some of its citizens. Although some things might have changed recently in the leadership of America, it's hard not to wonder how Connie would have reacted to the upheaval of the Trump era and the health crisis brought on by the pandemic.

What will also resonate for a modern audience is Connie's evolving definition of gender, describing it in 1993 as a "fluid spectrum". This film serves as a snapshot of a less sympathetic time for the trans community (talking heads using terms like nelly and sissy), when transgender women were forced to come off medication and either present as their assigned at birth gender in order to receive treatment for AIDS or hide themselves from the public. That's why having Connie's voice was such an important one to include in the fight against AIDS, and this film should allow a new generation to appreciate her contribution to the cause.

With an acknowledgement that they weren't just fighting for themselves but for future generations, AIDS Diva: The Legend of Connie Norman is a document of a time of fear and change, and a compelling, powerful account of political activism at work.

Verdict

4/5

AIDS DIVA: The Legend of Connie Norman is screening as part of the BFI Flare LGBTIQ+ Film Festival. The full line-up can be found on the BFI Player here.

JUMP, DARLING - BFI Flare Film Festival 2021 review

Starring the legendary Cloris Leachman in her final role, Jump, Darling follows drag queen Russell, AKA Fishy Falters (Thomas Duplessie), who after splitting up with his boyfriend, decides to go and stay with his ageing grandmother, Margaret (Leachman). As Russell adapts to the pace of small town life and finds a possible new love connection at a local bar, it becomes increasingly obvious that his elderly grandmother, suffering from memory issues and unable to bathe herself, may need him to stick around for a while longer.

Originally planning on just stopping by to collect his deceased grandfather's car that Margaret has promised to her grandson, upon seeing how frail she is and also in need of some recovery time for himself, Russell moves in with Margaret whilst he plans his next move. Finding a local gay bar that he can inject some of his glamour into, Russell introduces the locals to his drag alter ego, Fishy Falters, drawing the attention of barman Zach (Kwaku Adu-Poku) and the possibility of a new romance. As Russell focuses on his career prospects, his mother Ene (Linda Kash) arrives on the scene, surprised to find that her son has moved his wigs, make-up and mirrors into his grandmother's attic and is selling some of her belongings to finance himself.

A mixture of traditional family drama with the vibrant possibilities of the world of drag, the absolute gem that Jump, Darling has is the presence of Cloris Leachman. Leachman, who won an Oscar 50 years ago for her role in The Last Picture Show but then sadly passed away this January at the age of 94, is noticeably frail but still on fine form here, and the interactions she has with Duplessie - of which more would have been welcome - are the understated beating heart of the film. Russell's re-integration into Margaret's life lies somewhere between him caring for and taking advantage of her, and the narrative works to find the wavering balance between his self-serving nature and sense of familial duty. This is something Margaret is seemingly aware of, but as long as she gets to stay in her house, she's happy. An expansion of this conflict could have lead to a stronger dramatic arc, particularly after the introduction of Russell's mother who cannot devote herself to caring for her mother and sees putting her into a care home as the only option.

Instead, the main narrative drive of Jump, Darling is Russell's reckoning with his status as a performer. Once with high hopes to be a successful dramatic actor (he bumps into an old school friend who recalls the expectation he was going to become "the next Andrew Garfield"), his career has instead lead him to drag, something his businessman ex-boyfriend snobbishly dismisses as"gay, variety show shit". But despite their jibes, Russell (and Duplessie) is clearly having fun performing as Fishy Falters, and some of the stand-out scenes are those where he performs lip-syncs at the local bar, including a fantastic 'kiss off' to a once potential suitor who reveals things Russell wasn't expecting.

Although certainly not a deep dive into the art of drag - that has, barring a couple of book-ending nightclub scenes Fishy as the only performer we follow - Jump, Darling convincingly sells us on why Russell has chosen this method of self-expression, within it finding a stronger connection to his grandmother who once had dreams in her youth of being an elegant ice skater. Some plot threads and characters are underdeveloped - the love story with barman Zach promises more than it delivers - but when Jump, Darling puts its focus on the cross-generational connection between Russell and Margaret, it works as a subtle, thoughtful drama, and as a tender farewell to the talents of Cloris Leachman.

Verdict

3/5

Jump, Darling is screening as part of the BFI Flare LGBTIQ+ Film Festival. The full line-up can be found on the BFI Player here.

SWEETHEART - BFI Flare Film Festival 2021 review

Dragged on a seaside family holiday against her will, mardy 17 year old AJ (Nell Barlow) is determined to have a terrible time until she meets Isla (Ella-Rae Smith), a beautiful lifeguard at the park and the girl of her dreams. Seeing her burgeoning friendship with Isla as an opportunity to re-invent herself and spend as much time away from her family as possible, AJ parties with the young staff of the holiday park, starts to have fun and just maybe falls in love.

Much like the understated humour of last year's Days of the Bagnold Summer, coupled with AJ's dry voice-over that brings to mind Richard Ayoade's Submarine, Sweetheart, writer/director Marley Morrison's debut feature, is a well-observed teen drama with so many lovely family details that make it seem oh so relatable to anyone who's holidayed with family under protest. AJ's mother Tina (This is England's Jo Hartley, on fantastic form) is the kind of woman who point blank refuses to call her daughter anything but the name she gave her, April (in fact, the whole family do apart from her pregnant sister's supportive partner, Steve); who says "ooh, cows" when passing a field in the vain attempt to muster some enthusiasm from her teenage daughter, and who takes her washing on holiday because the machine at home has stopped working. Despite her constant battles with AJ/April, Tina never feels like the villain, and as the story progresses and we learn more about why AJ's father wasn't asked to join them, she becomes an increasingly likeable character.

But it's completely Nell Barlow's film from start to finish. Dressed like Liam Gallagher in a bucket hat and tinted shades (Sweetheart feels so much like a throwback to the 90s that it could well have been set then), her AJ is an introvert who's exploring her sexual identity - and possibly her gender identity too - almost afraid to reveal how smart she is to the kids at the caravan park, worried - a la Lisa Simpson in the Summer of 4 ft 2 - that signs of her intelligence will be a turn off. Instead it draws in the ray of summer sunshine that is Isla, a free-spirited young woman who's able to guide the sullen AJ into realising how cool they actually are and encourage her to be herself. Their scenes together have the desired flush of teen holiday romance, albeit with the backdrop of a drab, mundane English caravan park to them.

With a fun, sprightly teen pop soundtrack and a couple of knowing nods to Dirty Dancing (inevitable, really), Sweetheart is a fun holiday romance that anyone who was ever an awkward teenager will find cringingly familiar. 

Verdict

3.5/5

Sweetheart is screening as part of the BFI Flare LGBTIQ+ Film Festival. The full line-up can be found on the BFI Player here.

DRAMARAMA - BFI Flare Film Festival 2021 review

In a typical middle-American town in 1994, a group of drama group friends unite for one last time to throw a costumed murder mystery party before they all leave for college. They each have their own fears about what the future might hold for them, but Gene (Nick Pugliese) is also wrestling with telling his life-long friends about his sexuality, afraid of how they will react. As the night progresses and loyalties among the group are tested, they all start to realise that in one way or another, they're all putting on a show.

As the characters all arrive at the parent-free house of Rose (Anna Grace Barlow) before she flies off for college the next day, they enter a safe space, a world of their creation where they are able to be vivacious show-offs who sing, dance and perform skits with one another, and where they can flex their theatrical muscles. Each in costume as a Victorian literary great (Sherlock Holmes, Alice in Wonderland, Ms Havisham, Mina Harker and Dr. Jekyll - or as close an approximation as they can get), there's no judgement from outside of their group of friends, allowing them to be as dorky as they want to be. This changes on the arrival of JD (Zak Henri), the whipsmart pizza delivery boy who encroaches on their space long enough to critique their costume choices and shake up the mood of the party by inviting Gene to a cooler gathering later on that evening.

At the outset of Jonathan Wysocki's coming of age comedy, I'll admit to worrying that I was going to find some - if not all - of the main characters insufferable in the way overly-earnest actor types can be, but to the credit of the core ensemble cast (Pugliese, Barlow, Nico Greetham, Megan Suri, Danielle Kay), as the film progressed and their "act" started to slip away, I warmed to each character as they revealed personal truths about themselves via the playful dares and challenges they set for each other. I have to say, I wasn't familiar with the game "Flashlight Homosexual" before, but it feels accurately like something a group of sexually repressed teenagers would have played at a house party in the 90s. Even for non-theatre types, there's a lot in the film to find relatable on a teen movie level. We've all been at that age where the future is a great unknown, and I'm sure can freely admit that as you're trying to work out who you really are there's an act that is put on to protect the stability of those friendships you've held for a long time.

This is revealed most accurately in Gene's story. Realising he is gay, but without the confidence or knowledge of how to say this to his best friends, he talks around the subject in code during their conversations, telling the religious Claire (Suri) he is now "agnostic" but without stating what has tested his faith; and having a heart to heart with closest friend Oscar about how he's been counselling a "colleague at work" who is gay, to gauge his opinion on it. Looking at it with 2021 eyes, it might seem a bit of a stretch that Gene's friends wouldn't put two and two together or entertain the possibility that one of their theatre group friends might be homosexual (with the possible exception of Ally, the cool, street smart girl of the group in a role that you could see Natasha Lyonne occupying two decades ago) but Dramarama succeeds in selling a real, non-pastiche version of 1994 to us with retro fashion & hairstyles and by having not one, but two They Might Be Giants songs on the soundtrack. It's a sweeter, more innocent time, albeit with conservative religious rhetoric ringing in the ears of young people. 

As Gene questions and tests his loyalty to those around him, Dramarama ticks a number of teen movie cliches on the way towards its satisfying finale, but it's a sincere, warmly nostalgic comedy-drama about the value of friendships, and having people you can truly be yourself with.

Verdict

3/5

Dramarama is screening as part of the BFI Flare LGBTIQ+ Film Festival. The full line-up can be found on the BFI Player here.

POLY STYRENE: I AM A CLICHÉ - Glasgow Film Festival review

As the legendary frontwoman for punk band X-ray Spex, lead singer Poly Styrene was known for her bold sense of fashion as well as being one of the most prominent people of colour within the punk scene. Leaving behind boxes of photos and newspaper clippings after her death in 2011, her daughter Celeste Bell uses this archive along with excerpts from Poly's diaries to try and understand more about her mother and their often fraught relationship, and the issues that caused her to kill off her band at the height of their success.

Written and co-directed by Celeste (alongside Paul Sng), I Am A Cliché follows Poly's journey from Brixton teenager to performing on Top of the Pops and at New York's iconic CBGB's, as she confronted cruel jibes about her appearance, racist mindsets and her own mental health issues that saw her admitted to a psychiatric ward. Born Marianne Elliott-Said in 1957 to a white British mother and black Somalian father, Poly placed an ad in Melody Maker to form X-Ray Spex after seeing Sex Pistols on her 19th birthday in 1976, adopting her "plastic, synthetic" pseudonym by looking through the Yellow Pages. This was also a time when the racist attitudes of the National Front were prevalent (as well as certain factions of the punk crowd), and the film looks at Poly's identity issues as a mixed race woman - using the lyrics for her songs Identity and Half Caste - along with taunts her about her curly hair, the braces on her teeth, and her unique fashion sense that involved brightly coloured plastic and vintage materials clashing together.

The film uses new audio interviews with performers influenced by Poly's work, such as Kathleen Hanna and Neneh Cherry, and admirers and contemporaries such as Vivienne Westwood, John Robb, Don Letts, Jonathan Ross (whose first ever gig was X-Ray Spex at The Roxy) and Sonic Youth's Thurston Moore (who saw them perform at CBGB's). Also included are some of her former bandmates, Lora Logic and Paul Dean, who talk about the band's musical journey and Poly's lyrics, and how they were unaware of the extent of the psychological problems she was facing at the time, downplaying the hallucinations she was having. These effects of these ongoing mental health problems - misdiagnosed as schizophrenic, she was eventually found to be bipolar -  is something Celeste speaks about firsthand, waking up to find her mother stood at the foot of her bed.

With Celeste as our guide walking in her mother's footsteps, due to her resemblance to her mother it's almost like we're seeing a ghost re-enact scenes from a former life. The film's masterstroke is using actor Ruth Negga to narrate pages from Poly's diaries, allowing us to build a far deeper connection than would be possible through just the use of old clips and photos. At the core of this film is that connection between mother and daughter (Celeste states at the start of the film that "People often ask me if she was a good mum"), and the narration from both women feels like we are hearing from both sides. Whereas Celeste can now look back on her life with her mother and the embarrassment she felt at her DIY fashion sense when out shopping with her "what an ungrateful brat I was" , Poly can also talk about how she felt being criticised by audiences for her looks (with the record label slimming down her image on their album cover) and then suddenly called a sex symbol, a label she rebelled against by shaving all of her hair off in Johnny Rotten's bathroom.

There's a sombre tone to the film that makes it extremely moving as Celeste continues on her journey through her mother's life, from finding religion in the Hare Krishna movement to custody problems to efforts to reconcile before she passed with a shared love of music. It's an extraordinarily revealing documentary that paints Poly/Marianne as a troubled woman, not given the support she needed in an unforgiving music scene. It's a powerful film that could only be made by someone close to her, allowing Celeste to deal with a lot of her own trauma from her relationship with her mother, whilst also showing her to be the trailblazing punk icon she really was.

Verdict

4/5

Glasgow Film Festival runs between 24th February and 7th March. All films are released at different times, whereafter they can be rented for three days at £9.99 each.

Poly Styrene: I Am A Cliché is on general release from 5th March, and can be pre-ordered via the Modern Films website where you can help support your local independent cinema. 

RIDERS OF JUSTICE - Glasgow Film Festival review

When his wife dies in what appears to be a tragic train accident, soldier Markus (Mads Mikkelsen), returns home to care for his daughter Mathilde (Andrea Heick Gadeberg), who survived the crash. Also among the survivors was Otto (Nikolas Lie Kaas), a theoretical scientist who thinks the events leading up to the crash point to it being an elaborate hit on one of the other passengers, soon to be a key witness against a notorious biker gang. Approaching the grieving Markus with his ideas, they form an unlikely group of vigilantes to bring down the bikers, the Riders of Justice.

Mikkelsen's latest collaboration with director Anders Thomas Jensen - that also sees regular co-stars Nicolaj Lie Kaas and Nicolas Bro as members of his crew of hackers - Riders of Justice is a darkly funny action thriller that asks some deep philosophical questions about fate, coincidence, chaos theory and the butterfly effect. Otto is the inventor of a probability calculator that is able to analyse coincidences to predict trends before they happen, but that had no clear real world application until the tragic crash. Along with his colleagues Lennart (Lars Brygmann) and Emmenthaler (Bro) they convince Markus that the blame can be assigned to the Riders of Justice, as a whistleblower former member was also on the train and a suspicious looking man who exited the train shortly before the crash resembles the brother of the gang leader. More emotionally stable than her father, Mathilde too hopes to work out why this tragedy befell them, covering her walls in post-it notes that chart the events of the day. Had someone not stolen her bike, could she and her mother have avoided the tragedy, or was it the phone call Markus made that morning to say he was going to be away for three more months the reason they took the train? Who, if anyone, is to blame?

From the outside Riders of Justice looks like a suitably dour experience, and it certainly offers moments of that. As an emotionally shuttered man full of pent up aggression, Markus is unable to vocalise his grief and quick to lash out with his fists at his daughter's blue-haired boyfriend Sirius (Albert Rudbeck Lindhardt), or Otto's group of hackers, posing as the psychiatric help his daughter pleads with him to get. With his shaved head and greying beard, Mads's Markus is a departure from the silver fox roles he's become popular for in recent years, but it's as impressive a performance we've come to expect from Mikkelsen. He's on fantastically brooding form as the stoic soldier, unable to express any emotion apart from rage, but able to convey so much with his physicality in place of an over abundance of dialogue. When the film pushes into its action elements, it goes hard, and these scenes impressively show that Markus is a highly trained soldier who's willing and able to kill when needed. The easy comparison would be to Liam Neeson's role as a killer turned family man in Taken, but it's more akin to a 21st century Death Wish, albeit with a weapons expert at its core.

The team that forms around him, Otto, Lennart and Emmenthaler, are a ragtag bunch of misfits, all middle aged men who've never really grown up, specialising in some form of illegal activity that pulls them in to a darker world without fully comprehending the danger they're putting themselves in. They're the primary source of the dark comedy in the film, with comic observations such as what detergent is the best one to use what hastily cleaning up a crime scene, and what should you do when you find a sex worker tied up in someone else's house? These moments of levity help cut through and enliven what would be a taut revenge thriller, sitting nicely alongside Jensen's other darkly comic works with Mikkelsen and Kaas, Men & Chicken, The Green Butchers and Adam's Apples. It's also another appealing entry into the "Mads and friends get into ill-advised mischief" cycle of films alongside the upcoming ode to alcohol, Another Round.

Delivering enough gunfire and bloodshed to appeal to action thriller fans whilst also revelling in its black humour, Riders of Justice digs into a grieving man's emotional state to ask questions about causality, the futility of pride and the price of vengeance.

Verdict

5/5

Glasgow Film Festival runs between 24th February and 7th March. All films are released at different times, whereafter they can be rented for three days at £9.99 each.

UNDERGODS - Glasgow Film Festival review

Director Chino Moya's debut feature film offers a nightmarish vision of a world fallen to ruin. Told via loosely connected stories that look at various ideals of family life, Undergods is a harsh warning of how close our fragile society and a collapse into a heartless dystopia really are.

A husband concerned that his wife is having an affair with the mysterious stranger from the 11th floor; a prisoner free to return home from the Orwellian gulag he's been captive in for fifteen years; a father telling a bedtime story of industrial fraud and kidnap to his young daughter. What do these things have in common? Well, this film, obviously. Sharing tonal similarities with last year's Vivarium but with a much grander canvas, every segment of Undergods connects in some way to the idea of family - marital paranoia, strained loyalties, bitter resentments, a father expressing his love - in this debut film from writer/director Chino Moya. 

Hitherto a music video director for the likes of St. Vincent, Marina and the Diamonds and Years & Years, it's clear that Moya is something of a (gulp) visionary director, crafting a world of harsh, brutalist tower blocks both new and in ruin, filled with characters you wouldn't stomach spending more than the allotted time with. The cast includes a number of (to be polite) "interesting" British faces, such as Kate Dickie, Ned Dennehy, Tim Plester and Burn Gorman, all playing various socially inert degenerates, but the only characters who appear throughout are Johann Myers and Géza Röhrig's K & Z who drive around their barren, industrial wasteland looking for victims they can sell off to the local factory, but hey, at least they have fun while they're doing it. For all that Undergods plunges into the depths of human misery, there's some comic moments too, albeit springing up from a dark place.

The structure, or lack thereof, may be too baffling for your average audience (there's no 'A' story, no 'B' story, just a collection of scenes that flow into one another, connected by little more than a single character or even a single frame), but for sci-fi fans willing - and hoping - to have their worldview stretched with some gorgeous, despairingly bleak imagery, Undergods delivers the goods.

Verdict

3.5/5

Undergods is screening as part of the Glasgow Film Festival between 26th February and 1st March.

CREATION STORIES - Glasgow Film Festival review

Starring Ewen Bremner as Alan McGee, the head honcho of the 90's indie record label success Creation, this biopic follows McGee's life from his own childhood dreams of being a rock star to representing some of the biggest rock bands in the world in Primal Scream and Oasis. Told with the caveat that what we are about to see mostly happened, but that "some of the names have been changed to protect the guilty", Creation Stories covers McGee's story through a haze of excess and success, with drug addiction, rehab, and a flirtation with the politics of New Labour, all soundtracked by some classic hits from the era.

Based on McGee's 2013 memoirs of the same name, Creation Stories treads a well worn path of rock music biopics, starting with the younger Alan (played by Leo Flanagan) singing in his childhood bedroom with posters of Bowie, T-Rex and (ahem) Slade on his walls, before a move to London to find fame and fortune turned him into the cynical, jaded music exec he's best known as. Structured around series of interviews the older Alan (Bremner) gives to Suki Waterhouse's music reporter, Gemma, the film jumps into flashbacks to show Alan's earlier life in his native Scotland under the disapproving glare of his father (a fantastically gruff Richard Jobson). As formulaic as they are these earlier scenes are the most appealing portion of the film, in no small part due to Leo Flanagan as the enthusiastic younger incarnation of Alan. When the film does the clichéd biopic move of switching its lead character to the bigger name actor (wearing a series of unconvincing wigs) 20 minutes in, it's a tough ask to accept the mid-40s Bremner as someone 20 years younger. That's not to say that Bremner's not good in the role - in fact, he's great - and as the action moves along to the higher points of McGee's career (such as his discovery of Oasis through sheer dumb luck) he's arguably playing the role he was always destined to play.

With the script co-written by Trainspotting's Irvine Welsh, you'd hope Creation Stories would more effectively tap into that Cool Britannia era that McGee was a figurehead for and that director Nick Moran was himself no stranger to, having starred in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels at the tail end of the decade. Sadly, it feels like a missed opportunity. As much as McGee enjoyed his celebrity (and fair enough, this is based on his memoirs), the vast majority of this film's audience will be wanting to know more about the musicians he's associated with, but the film moves along so quickly that the likes of Primal Scream, My Bloody Valentine and The Jesus and Mary Chain are on screen for mere seconds. Even when the much coveted appearance of the Gallagher brothers comes an hour in, they're ushered off screen and only appear again fleetingly, despite James McClelland's pretty decent approximation of Noel.

It would be near impossible to talk about this film without mentioning the high watermark of music industry biopics, Michael Winterbottom's 2002 film, 24 Hour Party People. Tony Wilson shares enough in common with McGee (both power hungry men in the right place at the right time, or as McGee would put it "situationists") that there's cross-over beyond their association with Manchester music acts. It's clear that 24HPP was used as a basic blueprint for this, but as highly regarded as that film is, music bios have done some interesting things with their presentation in the intervening two decades, beyond quick editing and a jukebox soundtrack, and the fantasy elements this film employs to show McGee slapping Maggie Thatcher's arse or watch Paul Kaye's record company sellout get buggered by a corporate bigwig. It's also difficult when a film like this ticks so many boxes in the music biography checklist (drugs, rehab, bad wigs), not to think of the Johnny Cash spoof, Walk Hard: A Dewey Cox Story, which only seems more and more spot on since its release.

Nearly buckling under the weight of its cameos, from the inoffensive but forgettable (Ed Byrne as Alistair Campbell), the surprisingly convincing (director Moran as Malcolm McLaren), the outright caricature-ish (James Payton as Tony Blair) and the utterly bizarre (Jason Isaacs as a foppish crack addict), it's a shame that the supporting cast aren't given more opportunity to shine, as there's some great turns there from the likes of Michael Socha as McGee's record company colleague 'Slaughter' Joe Foster. As it stands, the film rests solely on the shoulders of Bremner's performance, and he does succeed in inhabiting McGee, both physically and in attitude. The film plays with the notion that McGee is either a genius or a blagger, with his unwavering assertion that one day he'll have a band that's "bigger than U2". It's just a shame the film doesn't pay more attention to them when they do turn up.

In terms of evoking the anarchic spirit of the Britpop era, Creation Stories doesn't quite hit the mark with its formulaic and unsurprising story, but it's a great central performance from Bremner with a blinder of a soundtrack. It might have limited appeal outside of rock historians and Oasis enthusiasts - who may also be frustrated by the lack of focus on real rock and roll stars - but as to whether they'll like it... it's a definite maybe.

Verdict

3/5

Glasgow Film Festival runs between 24th February and 7th March. All films are released at different times, whereafter they can be rented for three days at £9.99 each.