Film Review: Joker

"I Used To Think My Life Was A Tragedy, But Now I Realise, It's A Comedy..."

Suitably utilising the effects of the famous saying, "there is no such thing as bad publicity", War Dogs and The Hangover director, Todd Phillips, returns to cinemas this week with Joker, a movie which brings with it an a-typical example of contemporary social media carnage involving a movie which manages to have the official double stamp of both early critical plaudits and volcanic audience expectation. Benefitting from early calls of being given "masterpiece" status after its' debut at this year's Venice International Film Festival back in late August, Phillips' movie famously has been through sensational, La La Land-esque levels of backlash from many across the globe even before any form of general release, with particular avenues of spectators arguing the negative impact the film may have on the wider populous due to its' oppressive and disturbing themes, a particularly nonsensical argument which harks back to the age-old sociological theory that violent media turns the lay person into sadistic, sociopathic serial killers. Putting such nonsense aside, Joker as a film is a surprisingly nihilistic and hauntingly effective character study, a movie which is designed with such freedom and disregard for the opinions of the masses that for it to be classed as just another "comic book movie" would be a disservice of the highest order, and in an era where the Marvel Cinematic Universe is clearly the holy bible of what audiences have come to expect from superhero movies, Joker is a satanic, incendiary work of madness which is by far the most original and boldly constructed so called "mainstream" movie in many a good year. 

With the influences on Phillips' movie wide ranging to say the least, the movie of course predominantly relies on its' central character's source material, particularly the grittier end of the comic book world including Alan Moore's critically lauded graphic novel, The Killing Joke, which also served as a basis for Christopher Nolan's and Heath Ledger's depiction of the character within The Dark Knight, and whilst Ledger's approach to the infamous villain was the darkest and most complex incarnation cinema audiences had seen at the time, the masterstroke casting of the brilliant Joaquin Phoenix (The Master) means that in the form of Arthur Fleck, the world bears witness to a Joker who takes the term, "sociopath", to an entire new level. With many already comparing Phillips' movie to the sheer isolation and hopelessness of Scorsese's Taxi Driver, the smokey, industrial wasteland of an early 1980's era Gotham means that tonally, Joker does owe Scorsese's classic a huge amount of debt, with the central narrative of Phillips' movie closely mirroring Paul Schrader's original script as we see Phoenix's Fleck slowly embrace the hatefulness and disillusioned hatred he has for his own world by being constantly subjected to violence, abuse and high profile ridicule at the hand of Robert De Niro's (Goodfellas) Murray Franklin, a popular talk-show host who in the eyes of Fleck, embodies everything that is wrong with a society which is determined to keep the rich intact and the poor struggling to survive. 

Whilst the movie does of course have an overarching social commentary regarding issues of capitalism and societal breakdown, albeit in a way which could have done with a slightly more subtle approach, Phillips rightly is more interested in using his chance to utilise the breathtaking acting skills of Phoenix as much as possible, an actor who in return offers up the most dedicated and physical performance to be seen this year as he beefs up his character with a skeletal physicality and an interesting condition which sees him laugh hysterically for extended periods without the ability to prevent himself from doing so. With another influence being Lynne Ramsay's You Were Never Really Here, an equally stark and stylish work of brilliance with Phoenix on top form, the similarities involving each film's leading character's relationship with their mother, their relationship with the outside world and their relationship with their own personal mental health issues does offer up an interesting double feature, and whilst Joker is of course the more mainstream of the two movies, the darkness and violent nature at the heart of it never gives away for the sake of appeasing happily paying audiences, resulting in jaw-dropping explosions of violence which reminded me of Drive and the infamous curb-stomp scene from American History X, and as the movie progresses into its' final act in which the narrative plays into a crescendo of Fight Club meets V for Vendetta, all the subplots in the two hours previous come to a mightily radical end, one which physically made me jolt at the bravery of a film which stuck to its' guns completely and became the better for it. Comedic and heartwarming Joker is not, and in an era when filmmakers need to break ground in the comic book genre to truly stand out among the money making behemoth's, Phillips has created the best DC movie since The Dark Knight and the most radical interpretation of any comic book character I can remember, and if you can stomach the violence and handle the sheer darkness at the heart of it, Joker is mightily impressive and rewarding in equal measure.

Overall Score: 9/10

Film Review: Greta

"I Think There's Something You Need To Know About Greta..."

In a year stuffed with superheroes, sequels and the reprise of extended franchises, once in a while a particular film comes along which sticks its' neck out and screams something along the lines of, "and how, here's for something completely different." In the case of Greta, the latest from Interview with the Vampire and Byzantium director, Neil Jordan, such a film can immediately be considered as a glorious slice of B-movie nastiness, a stalker-based, chiller-thriller which although sticks wholly between the genre field posts without offering anything exactly new to a very well-worn narrative, is powered primarily by two superb central performances who in their attempts to add a sense of seriousness to the silliness, propel the movie into a unashamedly tickly guilty pleasure. With the likes of the excellent and little seen Burning earlier this year proving how the Hitchcock template of minimalistic tension continues to work wonders within contemporary cinema, Jordan's movie evades such delicacies and heads straight into Cronenberg-esque levels of eerie, off-kilter madness, and whilst Greta isn't exactly the mainstream option for those not bothered with intergalactic superhero warfare, is still a movie with more than enough to enjoy, or for those more on the squeamish scale of humanity, at least endure. 

Based around a story from Case 39 and The Crazies screenwriter, Ray Wright, Greta follows Chloë Grace Moretz (Suspiria) as Frances McCullen, a grieving young waitress who after the sudden death of her mother has come to live with her best friend, Maika Monroe's (It Follows) fitness obsessed, Erica, in the heart of New York City. Attempting to keep afloat her strained relationship with her absent father as she goes, Frances suddenly begins a blossoming friendship with the titular Greta, a lonely, longing and seemingly upper class French woman who herself is suffering from an absent relationship with her estranged daughter, and whilst the world is rife with actors and actresses who may have done an excellent job with such a role, there is only one person to turn to when a filmmaker needs an ambiguous French femme fetale; Isabelle Huppert. After her barnstorming performance in Paul Verhoeven's rather memorable, Elle, the train to the Isabelle Huppert love-in has well and truly been boarded, and with a central performance which expertly balances comedy with shocktastic horror, her ability to make the most of what is a rather generic thriller plot, pushes Greta into another gear completely and partially covers over the glaringly obvious narrative weaknesses. Add into the mix set pieces which will make even the sternest genre fans gulp with shock, Jordan's latest is no means a classic, but for those after something a slightly bit different, Greta is solid, squeamish stuff with an excellent central relationship between two top-notch actors. 

Overall Score: 6/10

Film Review: Burning

"There Is No Right Or Wrong. Just The Morals Of Nature..."

Presenting itself as arguably one of the more difficult movies to seek out throughout the year thus far due to a disgracefully minimal big screen release, Burning, the latest from acclaimed South Korean director, Lee Chang-dong, is undoubtedly the type of movie worth travelling that extra few miles for in order to behold and breathe in. Based on the story, "Barn Burning" published in 1992 by Japanese author, Haruki Murakami, Chang-dong's movie is a tense, taut and superbly crafted psychological thriller which sees Yoo Ah-in as Lee Jong-su, a rather reserved and emotionally conflicted package courier who amidst dealing with his father's newly found criminal exploits, begins to form a relationship with Jeon Jong-seo's Shin Hae-mi, a former childhood neighbour and school acquaintance who on first glance, Lee fails to recognise due to Hae-mi's admittance at undergoing plastic surgery in order to appear more attractive to the male gaze. As the relationship between the two begins to blossom, to the extent that Lee is left with the responsibility of caring for Hae-mi's rather unsociable feline friend as she disappears on a trip to Africa, her return from her spiritual adventure sees her arrive back with Steven Yeun's (The Walking Dead) Ben, a handsome, rich figure of ambiguity who soon begins to drive a creep-sized wedge between Hae-mi and Lee's relationship, much to the jealous and judgemental eye of the former who begins to suspect that Ben's secretive demeanour is much more dangerous than his charming sensibility makes out. 

Whilst the clearest narrative connections at the heart of Burning immediately point to the works of Hitchcock, with the notion of the uncertain outsider within cinema always harking back to the likes of A Shadow of a Doubt, the near two and a half hour runtime clearly emphasises Chang-dong's philosophy that amidst the central story, the tone and feel of the movie is as equally important, if not more so. With an abundance of interesting character development which manages to clearly identify each of the very different triage of leading characters, the atmosphere which idles in the background of the movie as the drama develops oodles with a subversive sense of strangeness, with you never really sure whether certain behavioural oddities or baffling character interactions are meant to be taken literally, as a deft aside or part of a wider mystery. With a very minimal reliance on musical accompaniments and the strange, ever-shifting colours of Hong Kyung-pyo's cinematography in which the movie seems to traverse through from the urban brightness of daytime South Korea to the Nordic Noir feel of night, Burning's clearest elemental ideas regarding the aspect of loneliness, longing and jealousy are all actively heightened with an alarming slow-burn nature, resulting in a final act which seems to take pleasure in failing to offer the audience a crowd-pleasingly satisfying, well rounded resolution, instead actively encouraging audiences to make up their own minds just like a huge percentage of the the most impactful and memorable chillers always manage to do. Add into the mix a hallucinatory dance sequence which clearly evoked the works of David Lynch and an underlying comment on the societal state of North Korea, Burning is an endlessly compelling thriller with style to burn and still has me dissecting certain elements in order to figure out exactly what it all meant. Crucial viewing.  

Overall Score: 8/10

Film Review: Searching

"I Didn't Know Her. I Didn't Know My Own Daughter..."

With 2015's Unfriended offering a subversive and original spin on the found footage genre of horror with great success, the same cinematic platform used within that movie returns once again in Searching, a Hitchcockian cyber-space psychological thriller which takes place completely upon the wide range of technological platforms belonging to leading star John Cho's (Star Trek Beyond) David Kim, a single father still mourning the death of his wife who attempts to solve the mystery of his daughter's recent disappearance via any means possible. Whilst many audiences may feel alienated by the claustrophobic nature of viewing events of a movie from a screen most people now continuously glare at on a daily basis, myself included, debut writer and director, Aneesh Chaganty, successfully manages to build the tension and unravel the central mystery at the heart of the drama with great aplomb, utilising well-known technological formats which not only conveys the hunt for Michelle La's Margot Kim, but also finds the time to joyfully poke fun at and satirically comment on the emptiness and shallowness of social media, and whilst Chaganty's debut does suffer slightly from a strangely artificial sensibility and a couple of hokey performances, Searching is an interesting and fun slice of cinematic guess-who. 

Beginning with historical exposition which explores the heartbreak of the Kim family and their sudden matriarchal loss brilliantly set to the backdrop of the evolution of computer systems over the past few years, Searching takes no time whatsoever in getting to the crux of the drama, with John Cho's large, selfie-style head looking continuously distraught as his daughter's disappearance brings to light hidden secrets regarding her infidelity and uneven social life in the real world when on the virtual side, everything previously seemed fine. Whilst the central mystery of Searching does contain some effective and clever narrative twists, the best parts of the movie is undoubtedly the social commentary it makes in reference to social media culture, with one scene in which a previous uncaring acquaintance of Kim's suddenly breaks down in tears in front of the media after her prolonged absence in an attempt to gain a few minutes airtime both comedic and downright depressing, a telling image of contemporary society in which physical interaction is slowly being replaced with emoji's and gifs, and whilst the movie does ultimately end in the a-typical Hollywood cheese-fest audience's have come to expect, the journey before the film's conclusion was an impressive debut from a director we should be seeing much more of in the future.

Overall Score: 7/10

Film Review: Beast

"Sweetheart, You Just Can't Change The Rules Because Someone's Showed An Interest..."

Appearing onto the cinematic fold with his first big-screen offering after a number of independent shorts, Michael Pearce writes and directs Beast, a spine-tingling, nihilistic and paranoid psychological thriller which sees Jessie Buckley's (Taboo) Moll break free of her critical and controlling family as she comes into contact with Johnny Flynn's (Clouds of Sils Maria) bohemian and free-spirited Pascal within the confines of an unnamed, rural and isolated community paralysed with fear after a number of young women are found brutally raped and murdered. With the ghost of Twin Peaks springing to mind each and every time there is a narrative crossover regarding the impact of death on a close-knit community, Pearce's movie does impressively share a tonal similarity with David Lynch's sprawling and surrealist masterpiece, with the film holding a relentless ominous tone up until its' final, haunting shot, and whilst Beast decides to stay strictly within the realms of linear storytelling, with its' feet planted heavily on the ground rather than conforming to the surrealist temperaments found in most Lynch works, its' the shadow of the uncertain which brilliantly pushes the drama and undoubtedly leaves the audience in a contemplative mood regarding what has unfolded upon them.

Shot primarily on the island of Jersey, Pearce's movie follows Buckley's Moll, a reclusive, distant and dissatisfied daughter who resides at her home alongside the intrusive, demanding and judgemental figure of her mother, Hilary, brilliantly played by Geraldine James (Rogue One) who demands familial perfection. After stumbling across Flynn's Pascal, a relationship between the two begins to blossom, much to the distaste of the rest of Moll's family, resulting in a heavy sense of alienation as Moll begins to suspect that Pascal has much more to his questionable and overly murky history than it originally seems. Although Pearce's movie features beautiful, sweeping landscapes and that particularly familiar British independent feel around it, akin to the melancholic temperament of Calvary and the uncertain sensibility of Ben Wheatley's Kill List, the film is not entirely cinematic throughout its' 110 minute runtime, with dialogue set pieces heavily reminiscent of an ITV crime drama at times, but with a clear Hitchcock influence, particularly Shadow of a Doubt, acting as a thorough through line from start to finish, Pearce's feature debut is a dark, twisted and enjoyably startling success. 

Overall Score: 8/10

Film Review: You Were Never Really Here

"Joe, Wake Up. It's A Beautiful Day..."

Introduced to the ways of Scottish director Lynne Ramsay back in 2011 with the jaw-dropping, unrelenting and unforgettable We Need To Talk About Kevin, her Terrence Malick sensibility of putting the audience on hold for whatever project ultimately comes up next has resulted in a six year long wait for You Were Never Really Here, a similarly twisted and powerful crime thriller based on Jonathan Ames novel of the same name and featuring Joaquin Phoenix (Inherent Vice) as Joe, a retired war veteran with a tortured psych and suicidal vulnerability who is tasked by a U.S State Senator in hunting down his young daughter who has been in lost in the seedy underbelly of a contemporary and morally duplicitous New York City. With We Need To Talk About Kevin setting the ground-rules for audience expectations when it comes to the mind of a director unafraid to tackle hardened and controversial subject matters, You Were Never Really Here is a hallucinatory, startling and entirely captivating work of art which merges genre within genres and results in ninety minutes of sheer white-knuckle tension and a collection of set-pieces which will rank up there with the best evidence of cinema audiences will see this year. 

With narrative similarities to Martin Scorsese's 1976 classic, Taxi Driver, something of which many have commented on already, Ramsay's latest is much more infatuated with the harrowing mind of its' leading character, the brutish, bearded and morally conflicted figure of Phoenix's Joe, a subverted private investigator whose specific speciality seemingly lies in locating lost children, a career choice somewhat channelled by his own troubling childhood and past traumas, elements of the movie which are highlighted in sporadic, sometimes terrifying flashbacks which couldn't help but evoke the ghostly imagery of the The Shining, particularly in the film's final act in which we see Joe scour the surroundings of an Overlook Hotel-inspired residence and is greeted with physical manifestations of his numerous nightmares. With the film reeking of style and a Winding Refn infused sensibility, the Jonny Greenwood score topples even his own outstanding work on Paul Thomas Anderson's Phantom Thread, with a mix of screeching strings and new wave electronica perfectly pumping up the emotion with one stroke and then creating an unbearable level of hostility and tension with the other, and with Thomas Townend's luscious, vibrant cinematography creating a staggeringly beautiful landscape for Joe's character to be absorbed within, You Were Never Really Here is a real treat for the senses. 

Whereas We Need To Talk About Kevin was constructed around a revisionist tale of the creation of man into monster which relied heavily on backstory and flashbacks, You Were Never Really Here only utilises these elements in an short and snappy basis, with the narrative much more linear in nature, and with the style and substance both accompanying each other majestically hand in hand, to call the movie anything other than heartily fulfilling is a complete and utter falsehood. Boasting extraordinary set pieces including a violent rescue attempt shown only through the ghostly image of CCTV cameras and a The Shape of Water-esque funeral scene which will be hard to to top as the most heartbreaking scene this year, Ramsay's film is a stunning achievement, one which features Joaquin Phoenix at a level of acting that's hard to better, and one which lives long in the memory after the final credits begin to appear on screen. With the seven year gap between her last and recent release, it seems Ramsay is indeed a filmmaker who desires quality above all else, and after experiencing You Were Never Really Here, for that is what the movie undeniably is, a groundbreaking experience, it comes at no surprise that her latest venture is very much worth the wait.

Overall Score: 9/10

Film Review: Unsane

"He's Here. Or Maybe, It's All In My Head..."

Returning from a self-imposed early retirement last year with the rather entertaining Logan Lucky after a four year hiatus, director Steven Soderbergh returns once again to the cinematic fold with Unsane, a delightfully kooky psychological thriller starring The Crown's Claire Foy as the equally wacky named Sawyer Valentini who is forced into mental despair from a stalker whom she believes has followed her into the confines of a mental institution which is seen to be holding her illegally against her will. Whilst comparisons to the standout genre examples when it comes to the notion of asylums and the mentally ill are wholly inevitable, Soderbergh's latest undoubtedly revels in a familiar B-movie sensibility prevalent in films of a similar ilk, with the likes of The Ninth Configuration, Shutter Island and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest the main ball-park areas the film can be aligned against, but with the added hysteria caused by the threat of Valentini's stalker figure, Unsane is closer to Patrick Brice's 2014 independent chiller, Creep, more than anything else, with the narrative's uncertain ambiguity resulting in a sense of not truly foreseeing where the film ultimately is heading.  

Shot from start to finish by use of an Apple iPhone 7 Plus and the FiLMiC Pro application which allows video to be stored in 4K, Unsane bears more of a tonal similarity to that of a found footage horror, and whilst at times the cinematography is radically subversive and riotously unconventional, the wider ratio aspect and grainy image does aid the claustrophobic nature felt by Foy's Valentini, particularly with continuous Sergio Leone style close-ups and the jolty movement of the picture whenever the camera follows her character in a deliberate attempt to mimic the continuous threat of being watched. With Side Effects in Soderbergh's back catalogue, the Hitchcock-esque thriller type is something in which the American is more than capable at portraying, and whilst Unsane does conform to the more wacky end of the genre spectrum, there is no denying that Soderbergh is arguably at his best when offering more of a challenging, unconventional set-up. Whilst at times the many ludicrous plot holes and questionable narrative choices do weaken the final product as a whole, Unsane is a thoroughly enjoyably and viciously wild cult piece which is gelled together by a Claire Foy on cracking form, and with a concluding act which is genuinely freakish and oddly unsettling, Soderbergh's second return is another rousing, off-beat success. 

Overall Score: 8/10

Film Review: The Handmaiden

"It Would Have Been Better If I Was Never Born. To Have Never Taken A Breath And Live..."

Korean director Park Chan-wook is the type of gifted individual who simply doesn't make a bad movie no matter how hard he tries or how strangely subversive the subject material at his disposal comes across. With perhaps one of the greatest trio of movies in Chan-wook's back catalogue in the form of the Vengeance trilogy, consisting of Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance, the immensely re-watchable and utterly twisted Oldboy, and of course, Lady Vengeance, the South Korean auteur returns to his language of birth after 2013's English speaking Stoker in the form of The Handmaiden, a cinematic adaptation of the historical crime novel "Fingersmith", penned by Welsh author Sarah Waters, albeit with the novel's Victorian-era Britain setting changed to early 20th century Korea when the country was under Japanese rule. Whilst Chan-wook's penchant for the surreal and the violent have somewhat calmed down with his latest release, the erotic undercurrent and captivating thrill of mystery regarding the narrative of The Handmaiden is another winning formula for a director who continues to impress with a beautifully designed love story which features the director's best twists and turns since the release of Oldboy in 2003.

Tasked by Ha Jung-woo's Count Fujiwara with infiltrating the life of the affluent Lady Izumi Hideko in order to sway her into marriage, young yet intelligent street hustler Sook-hee swiftly begins to feel a sense of conflicted devotion towards not only the Count but towards Lady Hideko's sense of isolation and departure from the world outside the confines of her majestic household. With the plan set in motion in regards to the outcome of Lady Hideko, a chain of events take place which twist and turn at every available chance, resulting in a tale of lust, love and sexual desire which rank up there with the best that director Park Chan-wook has offered in his already highly distinguishable film career. Not only does The Handmaiden present itself as arguably the most stunningly presented film of the year so far, with everything from the set design to the imperious array of costumes a real sight to behold, each of the leading quartet of actors give it their absolute all in creating characters which not only are characterised within an each of their life, but are utterly compelling from beginning to end. With a narrative as winding as that which is witnessed on-screen, The Handmaiden zooms through its' nearly 150 minute runtime with considerable ease whilst the dramatic turns which occur throughout are as jaw-dropping as the infamous twist within previous Chan-wook movies, resulting in a stunning piece of work which is as niche in terms of its' targeted audience as it is fundamentally beautiful to behold in terms of film-making prowess. Seek it out. 

Overall Score: 8/10

Film Review: Personal Shopper

"I'm Lost. I Can't Tell Whether Or Not I'm Going Crazy..."

Whilst many will link the complex aura of Kristen Stewart almost automatically to the Twilight franchise, her reputation as one of Hollywood's most interesting actors has increased delightfully over the course of the past few years, with her desire to work primarily away from the heavy headlines of big budgeted productions ultimately resulting in a change of perception from the moody teen vampire star to a truly remarkable and reliable screen presence. Continuing on from 2014's critically acclaimed Clouds of Sils Maria, Stewart reunites with director Olivier Assayas this week in Personal Shopper, a bone-chillingly creepy ghost story which although is undeniably original in execution, provides enough classic gothic horror motifs to appreciate the cine-literate nature of Assaya's direction which harks back to everything from The Haunting to a Mulholland Drive-esque air of ambiguity throughout its' more than appreciative runtime of 105 minutes. If it's cheap jump scares you're after, go watch Paranormal Activity, Personal Shopper is a marvellous platform for Stewart to work her unappreciated magic in a manner which is calculated with an utmost efficiency from its' impressive director. 

After the tragic loss of her twin brother, Kristen Stewart's Maureen, a self-proclaimed medium, capable of sensing and communicating with the afterlife, attempts to reconnect with her recently deceased twin in an attempt to seek closure and continue with her life in Paris where working as a personal shopper for Nora von Waldstätten's high-profile yet entirely egotistic fashion model, Kyra, is a financial necessity rather than a enjoyable pastime. After embracing the existence of an unknown spirit in her lost brother's previous home, Maureen becomes transfixed with the thrill of the unknown, resulting in a supposed game of cat and mouse between her world and the spirit world, concluding with dire and unexpected consequences. Featuring perhaps two of the most unnerving, bone-tingling scenes of recent years, Personal Shopper is a wildly subversive thriller which leaves the audience to fill in the blanks in a manner which totally understands and respects its' intended admirers. With Stewart in the leading role, her performance is both utterly mesmerising and entirely convincing, creating an air of tension in certain scenes which in the hands of others would have been completely lifeless and forgettable, particularly a long drawn-out scene in which our leading heroine communicates with her unknown admirer via smartphone. Between herself and director Assayas, Personal Shopper is another winning formula for the duo and is indeed one of the more interesting movies of the year so far. 

Overall Score: 8/10

Film Review: Elle

"Both Of Us, It's Sickening. It's Perverse. I Was In Denial But Now It's All Very Clear..."

To say Paul Verhoeven is a man whose career is somewhat contrary in terms of both critical and financial success is on a similar vein when stating the current leader of the US of A isn't exactly held in the highest esteem, and whilst the infamous Dutch director is best known for the likes of cult favourites such as RoboCop, Starship Troopers and the excellent Phillip K. Dick influenced, Schwarzenegger starring, Total Recall, other cinematic ventures including Hollow Man and the hotly panned, Razzie-winning Showgirls, show that excellence isn't exactly the result every time the great Dane decides to release a new film. With Elle however, the highly publicised Oscar nomination for the film's leading star Isabelle Huppert follows in the footsteps of a large amount of hype, a reputation which we all are well aware of doesn't always result in an overly positive movie-going experience come release day. Thankfully for Verhoeven however, Elle is a gripping and wholly twisted depiction of sexual violence and subversive desires, whilst the portrayal of the most dysfunctional family in the past few years of so gives an air of black comedy to the film's wide range of elements which all in all make it a riveting success.

Helmed together by a simply majestic performance from leading star Isabelle Huppert, who throughout the movie is effortless in portraying a rape victim who cautiously and calmly finds her way to exact revenge on the person who wronged her, Elle features quite extensively a narrative which reasserts Verhoeven's knack for the genre-bending uncanny, taking all the sliminess and rough-toughness of previous movies such as Basic Instinct and Showgirls and forming them around a leading character who is both subversive in makeup yet undeniably interesting from start to finish. Whilst Elle is categorically not a film for the majority of audiences, the one-two duo of Verhoeven and Huppert have created a movie which stands head and shoulders above the limited amounts of erotic-based thrillers released in previous years (looking at you Fifty Shades) with its' quirky jet black sensibility propelling the finished article into a existential thriller which verges on the edge of total B-Movie splatter come the final act but ultimately one which is cautiously enjoyable nonetheless.

Overall Score: 8/10