2020 was certainly a year. The year of the pandemic. The year of lockdown. The year of Zoom. The year of walking (let’s face it there wasn’t really anything else to actively do). What it wasn’t was easy. No one could have ever predicted the challenges we were all going to be facing. It was 12 months where connections felt the most important, primarily because we couldn’t actually connect. No hugs, no kisses, certainly no handshakes. It is ironic really that in a year we were starved of connections we were actually more connected than ever. Covid-19 impacted every single one of us, in painful heartbreaking ways but also in the simple act of day to day living. Not many events in Earth’s history can be said to have touched all of us in some form, in fact other than in the basic fact we are all human it is probably the only thing to have imprinted itself into every one of our individual lives. I can only imagine the next few years will be loaded with stories of how it changed people’s lives (although one can only hope that Hollywood does not barrage us with pandemic related material in some sort of Covid Cinematic Universe).
2020 was also the year of so much more. The year when empathy somehow became the enemy, wherein those in power sought to lie, manipulate and disregard those suffering. A year where science and fact were seen as threats rather than something to be celebrated. A year in which many came together but also far too many were driven apart. Driven by a media lacking responsibility and unwilling to challenge, by a minority that shouted the loudest meaning theirs was the will we had to cater to, by leaders and a small section of the public who became emboldened and entitled. So called rights came before people’s lives. I saw great care and love between communities yet I also saw such selfish need and callous treatment of those in need. It was also the year of great social change, led by the Black Lives Matter movement. A movement that was galvanised by the awfully tragic murders of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor, two bright souls added to the truly shameful list of black men/women treated as lesser simply for the colour of their skin. The ensuing protests and anger have led to some element of mobility and change but there is still so so so much further to go. 2020 was pretty much a fucking terrible year.
“this was the hardest top 20 I’ve had to construct“
Yet 2020 also saw me marry my best friend and true love. Small, intimate and not quite what we wanted but filled with joy and happiness. Not to mention being one of the lucky ones who managed to get abroad (for our honeymoon), being able to see the beauty that is Kos with my gorgeous wife was a beautiful gift amidst the husk of 2020. I’ve also found being in lockdown and being largely stuck inside with just us two has brought us closer than I think would ever be possible. And mostly in a good way (kidding-it was all good).
But let’s not forget this is a movie blog, not a diary. So what can we say about 2020 when it comes to the film world. Well it’s also been similar to everything else, a time of rampant and unpredictable change. Streaming truly took off, a result of cinemas being largely closed throughout the bulk of the year, meaning original content flourished, and studios began to alter the parameters of moviegoing in potentially massive ways. Warner Bros opted to move all of their 2021 releases to VOD, with cinema releases still planned day and date in territories that are open. Disney chose to drop some of their biggest titles straight to Disney+, helping them to reach huge subscriber growth. And it felt like every week saw another blockbuster change its release date, No Time to Die seemingly moving with alarming regularity. Cinemas that did open, and of course I ventured to plenty, did so with detailed and thorough safety protocols, meaning out of all the places I did visit they easily felt the safest. Alas audiences were left bereft of anything to actually see. Studios pulling all of their big stuff, resulting in a 75% drop in ticket sales over 2019. A shame really, cinemas needed the lifeline that the big films provide. On the flipside it allowed those smaller less publicised flicks could grab a hold of a better slice of the pie, even the larger multiplexes offering a wider variety of films than usual. The industry itself also had to reconcile how to continue making material under extreme social distancing guidelines, a challenge it appears to have risen to greatly, with most productions starting up with a surprising amount of pace. Bugs of course were on the road, such as The Batman shutting down multiple times due to outbreaks and we all heard Tom Cruise seemingly destroy two culprits of Covid breaches. Has anyone checked to see if they’re OK, seriously? I’m not sure what 2021 holds for cinema but it is most definitely not going to look the same.
You’d have thought that with all the closures and moving about that 2020 would have been starved of great filmmaking, but you would be insanely wrong. In actual fact this was the hardest top 20 I’ve had to construct, the list of notable mentions below could easily been a top films list of their own, and the range of films this year in the top is all encompassing. It was an especially good year for horror, with 4 such films making the list, and of course with cinema closures over half of the list were streaming titles. Cinema has always been a democratic media, accessible to almost all, this year has only increased that tenfold. So enough with the rambling, let’s get started, enjoy and here’s to a happy, exciting and above all safe 2021!
Notable Mentions: Onward, Waves, Jojo Rabbit, Birds of Prey, Proxima, Portrait of a Lady on Fire, A Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood, Da 5 Bloods, Personal History of David Copperfield.
20. The Vast of Night
What a delightful surprise this film was. A extremely low budget 50s set science fiction tale. It focuses on a young radio presenter (Jake Horowitz-charismatic) and an energetic switchboard operator (Sierra McCormick- terrific) as they intercept strange audio signals one calm night, before being swept up in conspiracy theories, creepy moments and surprising emotional revelations. Debut director Andrew Patterson has a complete hold on the material, confident enough to deliver some truly outstanding one take shots (the glide across town and into a basketball match is audaciously exciting) and smart evocations of time and place. The script barrels along with the wit and urgency of a Sorkin number, characters talking over one another with delightful abandon. There is even time to smuggle in some pointed references to racial prejudice, Patterson reminding us that the giddy hope of the 50s love of all things science and space was on the back of the growing civil rights movement. It may be subtle but it adds richness and detail to this isolated setting. Pretty much an extended Twilight Zone episode yet uniquely its own beast. It marks all involved out as ones to watch in the future.
Standout Scene: The aforementioned tracking shot is close but for me a late film visit to an old lady involved quite deeply in the strange goings on, manages to be incredibly tense and foreboding, simply through the use of performance, dialogue and a static camera.
Rocks is one of those films that remind you nobody does independent film like the UK. Directed by Sarah Gavron, who cast non actors and spent a year improvising a loose script with which to hang her characters on. Rocks in turn becomes a film of staggering authenticity and heart. Centred on the titular Rocks, played with riveting sensitivity by Bukky Bakray as she is forced to look after her little brother (D’angelou Osei Kissiedu in a stunning stunning performance) after their mum disappears. Frank and honest about the role of social services, and the inherent fear those who face them experience. It is heartbreaking to watch at times, Rocks resorting to theft simply to pay for them to eat and sleep, but in its depiction of female friendship ultimately rewarding. Having these girls improvise together for over a year gives their interactions a palpable sense of almost documentary-like in the moment realness. They banter, tease and sometimes fall out with one another yet the dialogue is never that forced sense of youth that so many teenage flicks adopt. A diverse cast each bringing specific life experiences also helps Rocks represent the best of what that sort of society can bring to the table, one that the UK seems sadly keen to walk away from. Come the final few moments you can’t help but wish we could get a dozen more of these, each following our cast as they continue to learn, love and cry through life’s never-ending battles. One of the best British films in years.
Standout Scene: The final moments reinforce this films true strengths, the girls head outside of London so Rocks can see her little brother who’s now in care, a journey that is both fun (watch as they attempt to get onto the train without paying), full of their usual excitable interactions, devastating (Rocks unable to speak to her brother) and yet oddly hopeful as Rocks realises her brother looks happy. Sometimes life may not end up where we want to but oftentimes it teaches us the lessons we need to truly grow. A bittersweet yet hopeful ending.
In what has been a very good year for directorial debuts (there are 8 in the top 20 alone) Babyteeth is easily the most heartbreaking of them all. Shannon Murphy directs a story of terminal illness as Eliza Scanlen’s Milla wrestles with her impending mortality. She does so by falling in with the drug addicted and erratic Moses (Toby Wallace- wired and complex in performance), which suffice to say doesn’t go down well with her grieving parents. This is no mere shallow weepy, it is surprisingly honest and often unpredictable. Central to this is Essie Davis and the always amazing Ben Mendelsohn as Milla’s parents. Faced with the prospect of losing their daughter they grow apart and fall down self destructive spirals that are bracing in the films willingness to never judge. Things turn even more surreal when they invite Moses into their home in an attempt to help him and also provide Milla some sense of control. Eliza Scanlen has made a strong career so far of playing somewhat aloof teens that reveal hidden and unexpected depths (albeit she seems to be a favourite amongst directors to play doomed characters), and Milla is no different. She has to run the gamut of emotions, whilst always remaining true to the sometimes odd turns she makes as a character. Murphy adds some stylistic touches, notably in a few drug addled sprees, but is largely grounded focusing on character and allowing moments to breathe. Babyteeth (don’t worry the title is explained) was of course always going to end with pain, yet even that is delivered with heartbreaking honesty and purity. I’m glad I saw this in a darkened cinema so no one could see just how many tears this elicited.
Standout Scene: The final shot is a mixture of beautiful cinematography (a windswept beach as background to a pained family gathering) and devastating performance work. Mendelsohn and Scanlen convey such wrought subtlety as they each silently realise this may be the last happy moment they have together. Who’d thought watching someone take a photograph could be one of the years saddest moments.
17. Never Rarely Sometimes Always
I’m pretty sure reading this list you may think that my favourite films of 2020 were all depressing slices of painful humanity, and in Never Rarely Sometimes Always you may be correct. However it cannot be denied that this was one of last years defining films. A searingly believable look at abortion in America as Autumn (a truly phenomenal Sidney Flanigan) faces having to venture into New York City in order to terminate an unwanted pregnancy, accompanied by Talia Ryder’s Skylar. This is a quiet sombre film, largely dialogue free yet nothing less than riveting. The depiction of usual abortion tropes is subtle, such as the element of fear from Autumn about telling her parents. There is no big scene where she wrestles with telling them, in fact they actually stay off screen, it is all there below the surface. We know what Autumn is feeling because we’ve seen this time and again, not to mention the quiet defeat she carries with her shoulders. Director Eliza Hittman also refuses to turn this into an outwardly abrasive attack at America’s cold response to abortion, instead painting things matter of fact. An early scene of Autumn visiting a clinic to seek a termination is starkly simple, us as the audience realising that she is being lied to in order for them to peddle a political agenda, not realising that there is a living breathing scared person going through this. It is a work of bracing empathy, but also of female friendship. Autumn and Skylar’s journey in NYC takes in confrontations, exhaustion and fear. But through it all they support one another with unspoken unconditional affection. The only time they threaten to break apart involves a man, part of the larger perspective of men Hittman uses. Men are predominately unseen but always in some form selfish and unhelpful. This is no man-hating statement though, rather a focus on how women must pay the price for actions that men do not always take responsibility for. Women do not have the luxury of abstaining responsibility. Never Rarely Sometimes Always is one of those films that slowly ingratiates itself in the brain, challenges you and makes you question what you thought you knew. Through all this is Sidney Flanigan’s remarkable performance, her deeply expressive eyes convey all you need to know about the weight of her experiences. And in one standout scene (see below) we not only understand the title but see just what the consequences are for being a woman in society. Quite possibly one of this years most important works.
Standout scene: As mentioned above the moments before Autumn can go through with her procedure she must face a series of deeply deeply personal questions, answering using one of the four words that make up the films title. Through just these four words, Flanigan’s incredibly mature performance, and the clear eyed empathy of Hittman’s camera we see the female perspective in all its unvarnished anguish and pain. Might actually be the best scene of the year.
16. The Lighthouse
The Lighthouse is not an easy film to watch. It is challenging, often infuriating, and even more often confounding. Shot in the boxy 1. 19:1 aspect ratio, in black & white and spoken in olde english speak, it is certainly not a film for everyone or even most people. I left the cinema all the way back in Jan with a feeling of almost hostility to it, what had I just seen and why was everyone championing this as some sort of filmic brilliance. Yet over time it has seeped into my consciousness, my memory returning to moment after moment, I’m now quite content in saying it is an actually brilliant film. Robert Eggers continues to make singular cinematic experiences, and although I wasn’t taken with The Witch there was no denying his craft. The Lighthouse continues that as it falls into a heart of madness. A simple enough plot, two men face madness on a remote island as they tend to the almost Godlike lighthouse they live in. Conveying madness on screen has always enabled directors to cut loose and conjure the most stark imagery, however go too far and you risk falling into a plotless nightmare of imagery no substance. The Lighthouse could be said to reach moments of such extremes, after all not many can explain away mermaid sex with any semblance of sanity. Yet there is always a thematic subtext behind it, not least of all toxic masculinity which permeates The Lighthouse in all its frames. Having two brooding actors at its core certainly helps with that, not to mention the fact that both are stratospherically good. In fact the film wouldn’t work half as well without the two of the being so damn watchable. Robert Pattinson continues to be one of the most exciting performers working in what is the less flashy of the two roles but one intensely physical, sexual and unpredictable. It is not a film to showcase heart but what heart there is comes from his anguished response to his debilitating mental state. Willem Dafoe on the other hand gets to completely cut loose, a performance of farts, bipolar behaviour and just generally large. He has always been an animalistic actor so this is very much up his alley and I dare you to find any better moment in his filmography than the late film monologue where he becomes Poseidon himself. I wanted to avoid referencing too much how the context of Covid relates to some of these films but I would remiss in saying a film about two people trapped together and the ensuing madness is pretty much 2020 in a nutshell. Outside of that The Lighthouse is exciting, enrapturing cinema.
Standout Scene: In a film rammed to the brink with startling unique imagery it is hard to overlook the sheer splendour of Wilem Dafoe’s late film monologue that feels like Shakespeare if it involved someone literally eating his words and spitting them out whilst occasionally farting. Nothing in cinema this year has come close to its visceral pleasures.
15. Saint Maud
Saint Maud not only continues the brilliant run of directorial debuts in 2020 but also represents, as you’ll see below, a terrific run of horror we had this year. Rose Glass marked herself out as a genre pro with this bleak slice of coastal horror. Although not quite horror in the traditional sense of jump scares (it has one of note, but boy it’s a belter) rather an insidious almost suffocating creepfest. It is all anchored by a superb Morfydd Clark, a waifish insular woman who is a full time carer, after what we get the sense was a very traumatic past within the NHS. She finds herself having to care for an old ballet dancer played by a wickedly tongued Jennifer Ehle. Debilitated by a encroaching cancer, Ehle sees Clark’s Maud as someone to pity and begins to sarcastically encourage Maud’s deep religious temperament. Something that will unfortunately lead down a darker path as Maud begins to believe it is her purpose to save this woman’s soul. Underneath all the throbbing malevolence (the score and sound effects used here are impeccably used to maintain a constant thread of terror), lies an ultimately sad story of one lonely girl who believes she is capable of doing great miraculous things. Loneliness and we later realise deep past trauma have encouraged her mind to foster deeper meaning behind everything. The sad note across it all is that Maud doesn’t have to be alone, a woman from her past offers a chance of connection and even represents another lonely figure herself, but Maud is so enamoured with her new purpose she cruelly brushes it aside. Saint Maud tackles a similar route we’ve seen in horror before, namely whether the supernatural leanings are real or in her mind. A fact the film plays close to its chest until the very last truly horrifying shot. Glass is a director of real expertise, fostering a real sense of unease, yet never losing sight of the characters at its core. Like all good horror the figures here we come to care for, even Ehle’s tragic dancer is more as a result of her internal struggle against her mortality. Images here sear into the mind, and it is testament to Glass that she can make a setting such as Scarborough carry a real haunting beauty.
Standout Scene: An extended sequence of Maud succumbing once and for all to the almighty being controlling her voices, resulting in startling shots like the one above, is a brilliant summation of the film’s strengths. In camera effects, overwhelming sound design and Clark’s committed performance shaking you to the core.
I mentioned previously that the idea of numerous films depicting our never ending lockdown plight would be exhausting and unwarranted. However if they’re all as half as strong as this wickedly constructed horror then we will be in for a treat. Conceived, mounted and produced all over zoom during the early part of lockdown, Host is technically alone a marvel. Each of the all female (save for one lowly fellow) cast were given a chance to construct their own in camera scares and improvise characters that feel all too real. A short sharp 56 mins long, Host never begins to outstay its welcome, a blessing as the film as computer screen idea can run out of steam all too easily. It quickly establishes who’s who (the sceptical one, the believer, the emotional one etc) but with an authenticity that overcomes the stock types. Centred on 6 friends as they decide to host a Zoom séance and accidentally invite something evil into their midst. A simple enough tale but it’s all in the execution. Rob Savage directs for the first time (another debut!) and knows just how effective the use of a static camera can be. Learning the lessons from Paranormal Activity in how the space can be held on just long enough to encourage you to scour every corner of the frame. The cleverness and vital social context would be for nought if the film wasn’t scary but holy cow it is. Easily the scariest film of the bunch mentioned on this list, I lost count of the amount of jumps it instilled in me, exacerbated by the familiar domesticity of the settings. It is a crying shame that this wasn’t first released into cinemas with a big audience as this would have easily been a huge huge success, not to mention elevating those scares even further when 200 screaming people follow them. As it stands it is a specific time in a bottle catch of these unusual times, and a damn fine film to boot.
Standout Scene: There are far too many horror beats I could have picked here, but as I’m a fan more of the foreboding chill factor it has to be the early attic search, with a quick glimpse of something hanging from the ceiling I knew we were in for a rough terrifying ride.
13. His House
Horror as social commentary is as old as the genre itself. The scares and entertaining rollercoaster feel of a good horror is perfect to smuggle in real world fears. His House not only captures that with potency but also maximises something that has been very much at the heart of the last few years of political speech, namely immigration. Remi Weekes focuses his film on a couple from South Sudan. We don’t know a lot at the outset but we sense the journey was harrowing, however the immediate coldness of the bureaucratic immigration system reminds us that the trauma is not over yet. Constantly told to be normal and “fit in”, husband & wife Rial and Bol realise that to make a new home might mean they have to give up who they are as individuals. This is the underlying theme that drives the horror that follows. Soon enough they are giving a semi-decent property to live in, with regular check ups required by Matt Smith’s detached council officer. Despite trying to make the best of it, Bol soon gets the sense that the house is hiding something monstrous. A fact represented by the decaying walls and failing electrics. His House then begins to expand its scope as the terrors increase. Weekes constructs some effective scares, usually utilising eerie sound effects, hostile imagery and Sope Dirisu’s petrified performance as Bol. Rial (a potent powerful performance by Wunmi Mosaku -see also her terrific work in Lovecraft Country) on the other hand starts to realise this house is a manifestation of the great and terrible act they performed in order to escape Sudan. Something that isn’t revealed to us until much later on. It juggles a number of meanings and contexts but never feels beholden to them, rather letting them naturally sit side by side with the horror. Weekes keeping the tension high in not just the scary parts but in more day to day reality. A moment when Rial gets lost on the estate and is racially teased by 3 black kids shows the complicated nature of race in Britain with smart subtlety. Once events escalate and the house becomes more overt Weekes gets more bolder, able to mix in dream sequences, surreal flashbacks and twisted horror to startling effect. In marrying in the now social commentary with crowd pleasing horror moments His House can easily hold itself up among some of the other great social horrors such as Get Out and Dawn of the Dead.
Standout Scene: Weekes goes all in on a surreal mid film sequence as we witness the horrifying journey Bol and Rial took across the Channel, wind, rain and waves about to crush them but writ into lucid horror imagery. The monster at the heart of this story using this to infect Bol’s dreams and twist them into even more sinister heights. A perfect amalgamation of all the cinematic elements to deliver imagery we’ve not seen before.
Another smart and effective horror that takes real world fears and twists them into monstrous darkness. Natalie Erika James directs her 3 central women to make this a proper female led genre flick, but one that doesn’t need to tackle any sort of male misogynistic edge. Instead this is about family trauma and the inherent generational fear that what befalls our parents may affect us. When matriarch Edna (a icy cold Robyn Nevin) goes missing her daughter and granddaughter venture to her house for clues. Nothing seems quite right in the darkly mysterious building Edna calls home, noises are heard, scratches are found and there is a general feeling of menace. James builds her time here, using it wisely to sketch out the dynamic between all 3 generations, helped by Emily Mortimer and Bella Heathcote’s lived in performances. Mortimer is a particular standout as someone who feels the guilt of leaving a vulnerable parent alone but also the anguished frustration that her mother brings down on them all. Things get even more sinister when Edna suddenly returns and it soon becomes evident that something has taken over her mind. Relic is more than just a horror film, it is a film about aging and dementia, these two familiar motifs writ into a demonic presence. Out of all the horrors on this list that element allows Relic to be the most emotional of the bunch. You want to see these 3 live some semblance of happiness together but that spectre of lost memory and crippling age lingers large. It all culminates in a third act of real craziness, haunted house tropes merging with horror monster ones to nicely constructed effect. Yet it is in the very final moments, ones that become icky, weird and unexpected that real emotional truth is felt. You will very much have not seen anything like it, but man does it stick with you long after.
Standout Scene: I was tempted to put that terrific final scene in here, but I’m going to stick with a quieter one. Mortimer chases Edna out into the woods after another bout of strange behaviour, seemingly falling down the rabbit hole of mania, Edna suddenly becomes lucid, breaking down in front of her daughter. A reminder that through all the horror this is just about an old woman desperately trying to cling onto her memories, something that all of us will have to go through one day, played quietly and beautifully by two brilliant performers.
What’s this? A Christopher Nolan film not at number 1 or even in the top 10, from a confessed Nolan fan. Well what can I say 2020 has been a top notch year, and despite its many many positives it is not quite top tier Nolan. However let’s start from the beginning. Tenet has almost become sort of the punching bag of the last year. As cinemas began to reopen last Summer, Warner Bros earmarked Tenet to be their first big release. Delays ensued but all were determined to get this out there. In that time a strange and unfair narrative began to build that Tenet was somehow going to be this saviour of cinema, and then further to that that Nolan was some evil dictator determined it to be released in cinemas despite some areas not being safe. Much is wrong here. One it was never remarked as some sort of cinema saviour, yes it was the first big release since Feb, but this was simply a case of a strong marketing pitch for a very expensive film. There certainly was no advert telling you to see this if you didn’t feel safe. Secondly the idea that Nolan has any control over what the big brass at WB do is laughable. Yes he is certainly their prime golden boy, but anyone who saw the backlash over their HBO Max decision can see he is not the one to be consulted on in matters of business. In fact it was a brave decision on their part to risk huge sums of money not being made in order to offer fledgling cinemas a much needed lifeline, cinemas that by and large were one of the safer public spaces to be in. Certainly more so than the supermarket. Still what of the film itself. Well Nolan is not wrong in wanting this primarily a cinema release as opposed to VOD. Always seen as a true champion of the big screen experience he never fails to maximise every corner for potential. Tenet is a BIG film. Similar to Inception in trying to partner big science fiction ideas with a specific genre. This instance a spy film. A Bond fan at heart, this feels very much his attempt at aping those films. Multiple exotic locations, a damsel in distress, moustache twirling villain, impressive set pieces, the list goes on. Tenet focuses on The Protagonist (a dashing and cheeky John David Washington) as he is drawn into a mysterious organisation attempting to prevent Kenneth Branagh’s Russian billionaire destroying the world by reversing the planets entropy. In layman’s terms reversing the flow of time. Ah time, a Nolan fixation through and through. Often he uses it structurally, here its both narrative device and editing device. Scenes of Washington fighting an enemy who is fighting in reverse or a car chase going backwards are dizzying to behold even when the brain cannot quite comprehend how it all works. Often deliberately befuddling, Tenet is a film that is almost built with the idea of repeated rewatches. A fact exacerbated by a very loud sound mix. Often criticised for his love of bass, there was a growing core that suggested they needed subtitles to watch this. Now whilst I agree it can be deafening, it is a somewhat childish response to say it means you cannot understand what is happening. I never had a problem with it, and would argue that the majority who couldn’t understand it was down to the confusing nature of the story itself. I like a film that is loud, Nolan has often remarked it has always been about returning him to that childhood feeling of being submerged in the booming sound mixes of films from his youth. I concur. Cinema is the place to be rocked to your core by the experience. And I can name a few films on this list that also use overwhelming sound mixes. Still there is much to be said that the film is often a little too obtuse. Not quite impenetrable but certainly more could have been done to better allow an audience in. This is the first of his films that I often found worked better in his head for him than us as an audience. None of that truly bothered me though, the ride is so grand, so engrossing that it is never far away from reminding you how exciting cinema can be. My biggest problem with the film is in its lack of an emotional current, despite being referred to as a sometimes cold filmmaker his films often have effective layers of heart. His characters largely driven by a purpose that is personal in nature. Tenet does not have this, partially it may be down to that Spy film element he is going for. Yet the inclusion of Elizabeth Debicki’s mother figure, desperate to protect a son we never actually properly see, leads me to think Nolan thought this would be an emotional centre. That is never the case. Despite that, Tenet is number 11 because it is original bold filmmaking from a filmmaker able to pretty much do whatever he pleases. It may not have been the saviour of cinema but it was most definitely something we all needed.
Standout Scene: No scene represents Nolan’s gift for the extravagant and his love of practical effects than the 747 sequence. A masterfully constructed set piece that works like crazy on the big screen, you feel the weight of this thing and the destruction it causes is very much satisfying. The fact it is just a small part of a much larger action scene featuring no less than reverse fighting is the icing on the cake, and all wrapped up with that incredible Ludwig Göransson score.
Part the second coming soon…….