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Shazam! Fury of the Gods (2023)   In a not wholly dissimilar way to Marvel, DC is currently less interesting for its cinematic output than the events that must be going on behind the scenes to create that output. With the MCU, the extensive self-demolition that has resulted from the formerly financially infallible series’ wokification has been something to behold. The DCEU is somewhat different, hitherto erratic at best with occasional pay dirt seemingly by luck rather than skill or smarts, yet having an emphatic line drawn under all of it, give or take, following the appointment of the post-dead

Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania (2023)   Audiences weren’t exactly showing up in swarms – by MCU standards – for the Ant-Man movies anyway. This was, perhaps, down to the character, or to the personable nondescript-ness of Paul Rudd, or the comedy-first angle of a superhero who can shrink down very small or grow very large. Scott Lang is more of a goof than a hero, so making his movies ever more ensemble in aspect – now daughter comes too! – was perhaps inevitable. But that aspect, combined with the more serious, ponderous even, visit to the Quantum Realm in

John Wick: Chapter 4 (2023)   There was probably a point, maybe only a couple of years back, when I’d have embraced this movie in much more unqualified fashion. I considered (and still do) John Wick: Chapter 2 a high point in the series, but I found Chapter 3 – Parabellum, like its overstuffed title, an increasing fatigue, whereby however well-choreographed – or carelessly choreographed, as the case may be – the action was, the determinedly paper-thin motivation (particularly within the scene or set piece itself) was prone to instilling its own perverse lethargy. That’s also writ large in John

Back to the Future Part II (1989)   This first sequel deserves full credit for pushing concept to the foreground and in so doing making the frequent failing of a continuation – the essential dilemma of the original has been resolved – much less relevant to its success. On its initial release, I was even willing to credit Back to the Future Part II as being on a par with the first film, albeit an altogether different beast. It’s actually very far from that, but it is, on its own terms, one of the more fascinating and worthwhile sequels to

Avatar: The Way of Water (2022)   More or less what I expected from Jimbo. There isn’t an original bone in its body, essentially reheating the original with more polished effects and added underwater. If I hadn’t seen it in 3D, I suspect I’d have been distinctly underwhelmed. Avatar: The Way of Water is a bloated but proficiently serviceable medley of Cameron’s fascinations with hardware, ecology, transhumanism and now – very Vin of him – fam, often accompanied by contradictory and unironic media soundbites from the man himself. But then, if Jim’s a Black Hat turned White Hat, we wouldn’t

Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery (2022)   Good God. This is awful. We all knew Rian Johnson was a smug, complacent, virtual-signalling little weasel, but he’s really outdone himself here. Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery is a salvo against privileged, toxic, white, dumb as in inherently undeserving, white (worth stating that twice) males – presumably the sorts who will delete all their old Tweets so as to scrub any suggestion of anything in their past that’s less than woke – of the most tedious, prescriptive order, replete with slavish toeing of the plandemic party line (and any other

Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (2022)   Far from yielding the disappointing box office some have suggested – it currently tallies at about half a billion less than the original movie – Black Panther: Wakanda Forever’s performance really ought to be regarded as quite impressive. Quite impressive that a movie as poor as this should nevertheless muster almost $800m worldwide. Whatever the faults of the year’s preceding MCU releases – and both Doctor Strange and the Multiverse of Madness and Thor: Love and Thunder abound with issues – they were not, by and large, exercises in tedium. The shoddy pacing, pitiful

The Godfather Part III (1990) It’s a shame the weight of attention directed at The Godfather Part III related to that casting decision, because in terms of plot, if not so much its execution, this is the most fascinating of the trilogy. Michael Corleone thinks he’s finally out of the life of crime, but the further he scales the pyramid of the respectable world, the more unconscionable he realises it is. Weaving in real-world conspiracy is perhaps Francis Ford Coppola’s trump card here, and this would surely have merited more discussion – or an audibly uncomfortable silence – had all

The Godfather Part II (1974)   The popular consensus is that The Godfather Part II is the only sequel to eclipse the original in quality. Indeed, a sequel that didn’t, Scream 2, laid this out amongst its various pithy rules. Albeit, it played fast and loose with its definitions. While I’d agree that several of those proposed (Aliens, Terminator 2: Judgement Day) couldn’t equal the first instalment, disqualifying The Empire Strikes Back – “Not a sequel, part of a trilogy, completely planned” – is nonsense, and there are a number of others besides that immediately spring to mind (Star Trek

Top Gun: Maverick  (2022)   I’m a long way from the effusive responses of – seemingly – the preponderance of Top Gun: Maverick’s audience. Nevertheless, it’s undoubtedly possible, as some have attested, to appreciate this sequel while in no way having any partiality toward the original. Indeed, in some respects, Maverick even manages to cast a certain lustre on that movie’s iconographic elements (the soundtrack, the visual acumen), even as it also rehearses its essential emptiness of character and emotion in tandem with its rousing militarism. That’s principally because Joseph Kosinski’s movie is a technical marvel, and every time it takes to the

Short Circuit 2 (1988)   Evidently, the inspiration for Babe: Pig in the City. And, in turn, as Time Out put it “a chromium Crocodile Dundee”, as our anthropomorphic hero is led astray in the Big Smoke. Johnny 5’s the original Chappie, and on balance, far preferable. Short Circuit may not have been able to boast an actual Indian benefactor/human sidekick, but it at least avoided the blight that is Die Antworte. This sequel was divested of stars Steve Guttenberg and Allie Sheedy (the latter has a voiceover), and director John Badham also opted out, so it’s unsurprising the box office halved. Short Circuit 2 is by

Lethal Weapon 2 (1989)   As an aficionado of ’80s-90s action cinema, I naturally loved all things Joel Silver (except Joel himself, natch… except in Who Framed Roger Rabbit, natch), yet I was never entirely persuaded by the Lethal Weapon series. The first is a more than decent movie, and the chemistry between Mel Gibson and Danny Glover is uproarious and infectious, such that the series is undoubtedly very difficult to dislike. But as action cinema, as boosted as it is by Michael Kamen’s robust scoring, the movies are never more than serviceable, competent, respectable. Richard Donner was no John McTiernan at his

Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore (2022)   The general failing of the prequel concept is a fairly self-evident one; it’s spurred by the desire to cash in, rather than to tell a story. This is why so few prequels, in any form, are worth the viewer/reader/listener’s time, in and of themselves. At best, they tend to be something of a well-rehearsed fait accompli. In the movie medium, even when there is material that withstands closer inspection (the Star Wars prequels; The Hobbit, if you like), the execution ends up botched. With Fantastic Beasts, there was never a whiff of such lofty purpose, and

Scream (2022)   My initial reaction to the Scream 5 trailer was that the movie was missing the charm – if you can call it that – of earlier instalments and would likely be greeted with indifference. Well clearly, I was erroneous in predicting box office gloom, but my assessment of the picture’s tone was fairly accurate. Scream’s ruthlessly meta- elements are often well orchestrated by writers James Vanderbilt and Gary Busick (and at times emphatically not so), but there’s something ruthlessly impersonal about the exercise – even compared to the cynicism of Scream 4’s failed cash grab. I’m not sure I’ve seen any

Ghostbusters: Afterlife (2021)   Say what you like about the 2016 reboot, at least it wasn’t labouring under the illusion it was an Amblin movie. Ghostbusters 3.5 features the odd laugh, but it isn’t funny, and it most definitely isn’t scary. It is, however, shamelessly nostalgic for, and reverential towards, the original(s), which appears to have granted it a free pass in fan circles. It didn’t deserve one. The casting of Finn Wolfram and Hart may have been an early tell that Sony was attempting to swathe over the backlash against the Femmebusters with a similar void of inspiration, that of a pint-sized next next generation. Afterlife is

Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger (1977)   Generally, this seems to be the Ray Harryhausen Sinbad outing that gets the short straw in the appreciation stakes. Which is rather unfair. True, Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger lacks Tom Baker and his rich brown voice personifying evil incarnate – although Margaret Whiting more than holds her own in the wickedness stakes – and the structure follows the Harryhausen template perhaps over scrupulously (Beverly Cross previously collaborated with the stop-motion auteur on Jason and the Argonauts, and would again subsequently with Clash of the Titans). But the storytelling is swift and sprightly,

28 Weeks Later (2007)   The first five minutes of 28 Weeks Later are far and away the best part of this sequel, offering in quick succession a devastating moral quandary and a waking nightmare, immortalised on the screen. After that, while significantly more polished, Juan Carlos Fresnadillo reveals his concept to be altogether inferior to Danny Boyle and Alex Garland’s, falling back on the crutches of gore, nihilism, and disengaging and limiting shifts of focus between characters in whom one has little investment in the first place. Fresnadillo (Intacto) brought in pals Enrique Lopez-Lavigne and Jesus Olmo to rewrite Rowan Joffe’s

The Color of Money (1986)   I tend to think it’s evident when Scorsese isn’t truly exercised by material. He can still invest every ounce of the technical acumen at his fingertips, and the results can dazzle on that level, but you don’t really feel the filmmaker in the film. Which, for one of his pictures to truly carry a wallop, you need to do. We’ve seen quite a few in such deficit in recent years, most often teaming with Leo. The Color of Money, however, is the first where it was out-and-out evident the subject matter wasn’t Marty’s bag. He

The Fly II (1989)   David Cronenberg was not, it seems, a fan of the sequel to his hit 1986 remake, and while it’s quite possible he was just being snobby about a movie that put genre staples above theme or innovation, he wasn’t alone. Fox had realised, post-Aliens, that SF properties were ripe for hasty follow ups. Consequently, they indiscriminately mined a number of popular pictures to immediately diminishing returns during the period (Cocoon, Predator). Neither critics nor audiences were impressed. In the case of The Fly II, though, it would be unfair to label the movie as outright bad. It

Wes Craven’s New Nightmare (1994)   I’m all for the idea of Wes Craven’s New Nightmare. Post-modern, self-reflexive, fourth-wall-breaking movies are catnip to me (why, I even liked The Matrix Resurrections!) It’s just that New Nightmare isn’t a very good one. It’s quite watchable for the first hour, but Craven made a multitude of bad choices here. And it’s telling that, prior to my excursion into all things Elm Street, I’d only seen the first instalment and this; as it turns out New Nightmare’s lore was equally discriminating (okay, I might give you Dream Warriors, but try parsing how it makes any difference). Craven’s like a bear

The Matrix Resurrections (2021)   Warner Bros has been here before. Déjà vu? What happens when you let a filmmaker do whatever they want? And I don’t mean in the manner of Netflix. No, in the sequel sense. You get a Gremlins 2: The New Batch (a classic, obviously, but not one that financially furthered a franchise). And conversely, when you simply cash in on a brand, consequences be damned? Exorcist II: The Heretic speaks for itself. So in the case of The Matrix Resurrections – not far from as meta as The New Batch, but much less irreverent – when Thomas “Tom” Anderson, designer of globally

Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021)   The ultimate superhero crowd-pleaser? I think so, pretty much. He’s everyone’s favourite superhero – well, aside from those who prefer Bats, who are, of course, nuts – and it’s replete with by-and-large, the right kind of fan service, fan service that pays off far more than it drops the ball. Nevertheless, Spider-Man: No Way Home still isn’t the best Spider-Man movie. It might only be the second-best Tom Holland Spider-Man movie. It gets what it gets right really right: all those multiverse past Spidey characters. Well, except for the one(s) who were rubbish anyway. But the side effect is the parts that made MCU

Return to Oz (1985)   Is this the highpoint – so to speak – of the Dark Disney period? Return to Oz is a movie so uncompromising in respect of its target audience, it makes Babe: Pig in the City seem positively innocent. It also remains quite fascinating in a way the same year’s more compromised The Black Cauldron fails to be. Both arrived right at the end of Disney’s identity crisis, before Jeffrey Katzenberg unleased a whole new, Touchstone-led approach (albeit, Splash was the first glimmer of that). Of course, it flopped. How could it not? And yet, I’d much rather watch Return to Oz than the more celebrated Wizard.

The Dark Knight (2008)   More than the sum of its parts, mostly due to its rightly celebrated performance of central villainy, The Dark Knight is nevertheless an unwieldy mixture of the inspired and strictly functional, assembled by a director entirely lacking cognisance of his own limitations. As a result, it manages to be both a formidable experience and an overrated one. But then, how could it not be the latter… The movie was a rare phenomenon, a billion dollar-plus grosser when such things weren’t yet ten-a-penny (only the fourth to do so, not accounting for inflation). A superhero movie that could be taken

A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child (1989)   The main takeaway from A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child, found in post-mortems and general hindsight, was that its box office was so poor (less than half that of its predecessor) because it failed to offer the fans what they wanted. I’ll be the first to admit the premise isn’t a great one, or a very original one (hearkening back to the demon offspring cycle, spanning Rosemary’s Baby to The Omen), but it’s at least attempting to stretch itself, for all that director Stephen Hopkins’ approach is decidedly scrappy and the dream

Young Guns II: Blaze of Glory (1990)   Revisiting the favourites of one’s youth can be a sobering experience, particularly if they’re reflective of one’s then age. Brat pack movies were always hit and miss, and the grouping itself was generally more a lazy catch-all for anything from the mid-80s to the early-90s that starred actors of a certain age who weren’t Tom Cruise (although, he might be squeezed in right at the start, a good few years prior to the phrase’s formulation). Young Guns, which I’d considered decent enough, didn’t really stand the test of time, so how does Young Guns II: Blaze

A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master (1988)   The most successful entry in the franchise, if you don’t count Freddy vs. Jason. And the point at which Freddy went full-on vaudeville, transformed into adored ringmaster rather than feared boogeyman. Not that he was ever very terrifying in the first place (the common misapprehension is that later instalments spoiled the character, but frankly, allowing Robert Englund to milk the laughs in bad-taste fashion is the saving grace of otherwise forgettably formulaic sequel construction). A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master boasts the most inventive, proficient effects work yet, but it’s also

Venom: Let There Be Carnage (2021)   I get the impression that, whatever it is stalwart Venom fans want from a Venom movie, this iteration isn’t it. The highlight here for me is absolutely the whacky, love-hate, buddy-movie antics of Tom Hardy and his symbiote alter. That was the best part of the original, before it locked into plot “progression” and teetered towards a climax where one CGI monster with gnarly teeth had at another CGI monster with gnarly teeth. And so it is for Venom: Let There Be Carnage. But cutting quicker to the chase. Andy Serkis’ movie knows to be brief,

A Nightmare on Elms Street 3: Dream Warriors (1987)   It’s easy to see why the third movie in this franchise proved such a big hit. It both boosted the inventive dream sequences/kills in a no-brainer way – Freddy’s Revenge is more than a little “Doh!” in that regard – and added to the lore. More astutely still, it made Freddy Kreuger a quip-meister, from whence his reputation was sealed. But what’s most notable, perhaps, is the manner in which, rather than simply piling on the set-piece deaths the way Jason Voorhees was wont, A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors apes the form of

A Quiet Place Part II (2021)   Any post-apocalyptic movie released in the current environment immediately lends itself to the charge of predictive programming, of preparing the ground for the big event (invariably because it was made just prior to the big event). More so than ever, apocalypse movies are now. John Krasinski has naturally claimed of A Quiet Place, “my whole metaphor was solely about parenthood”. Which is a relief, as it makes it all very straightforward and nothing at all to concern oneself over. And given how generic the sequel is, doubling down on the original’s plot holes and hopeful/hopeless humanity

A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge (1985)   The homoerotic one. Generally derided on release for its spurning of Freddy lore – his work ethic, even – A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge has gained cachet over the years for its not-so-much gay subtext as outright text. That doesn’t necessarily make it a particularly good movie, but it means that, in a genre where the thematic content tends to be overfamiliar and not-so rewarding, it actually has a few things going on under the hood and plants a distinctive flag for itself amid the formula of the Elm Street series.

Resident Evil: Extinction (2007)   My previous exposure to the Resident Evil movies was limited to the first outing and then this one. And the reason I was intrigued to see this one was to a small degree the Mad Max trappings it chose to appropriate, but mostly it was the presence of one Russell Mulcahy as director, at that point very much in the straight-to-video realm (an arena he’d quickly return to with a Scorpion King sequel). My interest in the Highlander – and Ricochet! – director tackling zombies was not misplaced. Resident Evil: Extinction is vastly superior to anything the series offered hitherto. Why, it even makes the material seem half

Resident Evil: Apocalypse (2004)   Well, that takes some doing. Resident Evil: Apocalypse is discernibly inferior to its less-than-stellar predecessor in almost every respect. Most of all, though, it’s absolutely horridly directed by debut feature helmer Alexander Witt. There’s zero sense of understanding of the frame or how a picture is edited together on display, leading to a disjointed, fractured mess even without the typically disjointed, fractured mess of a Paul WS Anderson screenplay. The strangest thing is that Witt was no ingenue on the directing front; he was an established second-unit director and DP, extending all the way back to Speed. Perhaps everything he shoots

I’m All Right Jack (1959)   I don’t think I previously recognised quite what an incredible performance Peter Sellers gives in I’m All Right Jack. There are others for which he is better known – Clouseau, Strangelove, maybe Chancey Gardner – but none are as wholly immersive as this transformation. You can’t see Sellers in Fred Kite, waiting to corpse, even though, being Sellers at his best, the performance is very funny. Perhaps he rose to the challenge so immaculately because the Boulting Brothers’ satire is so perfectly sculpted. Every character, plot development and pointed barb is acutely judged; it remains

The Mouse on the Moon (1963)   Amiable sequel to an amiably underpowered original. And that, despite the presence of frequent powerhouse Peter Sellers in three roles. This time, he’s conspicuously absent and replaced actually or effectively by Margaret Rutherford, Ron Moody and Bernard Cribbins. All of whom are absolutely funny, but the real pep that makes The Mouse on the Moon an improvement on The Mouse that Roared is a frequently sharp-ish Michael Pertwee screenplay and a more energetic approach from director Richard Lester (making his feature debut-ish, if you choose to discount jazz festival performer parade It’s Trad, Dad!) Bracewell: We are the joint

The Final Conflict aka Omen III: The Final Conflict (1981)   Twentieth Century Fox remained broadly steadfast in their quality-be-damned approach towards sequels (and remakes) through various changes in management. Occasionally an Aliens would happen, but more common was the template established by Planet of the Apes (chuck out cheap sequels; miraculously, several of these were quite good). So it was most certainly the same studio that gave us The Final Conflict and, much later, A Good Day to Die Hard (from the director of The Omen remake). In many respects, Damien: Omen II appeared to be a functional sequel, dutifully following the inventive kill count of its predecessor, but it’s a

Frozen II (2019)   I watch this and I get Shrek 2 syndrome. You know, the way a movie that makes heaps more off the back of the first one leaves a lingering, underwhelming feeling of why exactly was it necessary? Frozen II is the classic wrong move that comes from fashioning a perfect – well, relatively – one-off and bean counting that another one would be not only be creatively valid, but also essential. Directors Chris Buck and Jennifer Lee were right to be reticent of demands for a follow-up to Disney’s 2013 mega hit. Even Bob Iger – who did

Damien: Omen II (1978)   There’s an undercurrent of unfulfilled potential with the Omen series, an opportunity to explore the machinations of the Antichrist and his minions largely ignored in favour of Final Destination deaths every twenty minutes or so. Of the exploration there is, however, the better part is found in Damien: Omen II, where we’re privy to the parallel efforts of a twelve or thirteen-year-old Damien at military school and those of Thorn Industries. The natural home of the diabolical is, after all, big business. Consequently, while this sequel is much less slick than the original, it is also more engaging dramatically. Kim

Godzilla vs. Kong (2021)   I’d like to report I had a blast with Godzilla vs. Kong. It’s lighter on its oversized, city-stomping feet than its slog of a MonsterVerse predecessor, Godzilla: King of the Monsters, and there are flashes of visual inspiration along with several engaging core ideas (which, to be fair, the series had already laid the seeds for). But this sequel still stumbles in its chief task: assembling an engaging, lively story that successfully integrates both tiny humans and towering titans. Ilene: The myths say that their ancestors fought each other in a great war. Kong: Skull Island has fared best

The Christmas Chronicles: Part Two (2020)   Good grief. I came late to the Queen’s Gambit party over the last week, but it’s proof Netflix doesn’t always just serve up any old crap, expectant that its passive subscribers will gratefully receive. The Christmas Chronicles: Part Two, however, their highest-profile festive offering of the year, rather confirms every worst conclusion you’d reached about the service. A sequel to their – actually quite good – 2018 movie, they couldn’t just let such amiably innocuous fare lie. No, they had to churn out a grotesquely hollow, plastic-packaged Christmas bauble of a follow up. Somehow, it has

Wonder Woman 1984 (2020)   Well Patty and Gal brought their undiluted vision for Wonder Woman to the screen… and suddenly the Snyderverse doesn’t look quite so bad after all. No, that’s an exaggeration, but the fact remains that Wonder Woman 1984 is every bit as flawed as anything arrested-development Zach has delivered to DC. Just considerably less grimdark. On the flip side, moments of curdling sentimentality in this sequel will have you longing for the balm of Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice’s relentlessly portentous foreboding. There are quite a few things to enjoy in Wonder Woman 1984, but they’re almost all on display during

2010: The Year We Make Contact (1984)   The deal with 2010: The Year We Make Contact, of course, is that it pales into insignificance if sat next to Kubrick’s film. The further deal is that being a unworthy sequel doesn’t make it a bad film. Indeed, I’m always rather impressed by it. With the proviso that, like pretty much all Peter Hyams’ best films (see also Capricorn One, Outland, The Star Chamber) it doesn’t quite come together. And that, most damagingly, it feels like an ’80s SF movie, whereas 2001: A Space Odyssey for all its psychedelia and monkey suits, hasn’t dated at all.

Bill & Ted Face the Music (2020)   Bill and Ted’s remissness has led to existence itself hanging in the balance, fiddling while the universe goes to pot. The duo are much like us, basically, ignoring the inexorable inevitable creeping up on them until it seems like it’s too late. It would probably be a stretch to accuse Bill & Ted Face the Music of predictive programming, given its long gestation period. But then again, this is a movie where the saviours of everything turn out to be women rather than irredeemably useless white men. And their lives’ “work” culminates in 2020, after which

Escape from L.A. (1996)   It seems it was Kurt Russell’s enthusiasm for his most iconic character (no, not Captain Ron) that got Escape from L.A. made. That makes sense, because there’s precious little evidence here that John Carpenter gave two shits. This really was his point of no return, I think. His last great chance to show his mettle. But lent a decent-sized budget (equivalent to five times that of Escape from New York) he squandered it, delivering an inert TV movie that further rubs salt in the wound by operating as a virtual remake of the original. Just absent any of

Bride of Frankenstein (1935)   It’s quite appropriate that Joe Dante should have introduced the documentary on the disc release of Bride of Frankenstein, since the film represents the original free-for-all sequel, one where the director gets away with perhaps not doing anything he wants, but far more than one would have expected within a studio structure. Dante would later achieve the same thing with Gremlins 2: The New Batch, of course. Bride of Frankenstein is held up as a horror classic, and understandably so; it’s a far superior picture to its predecessor. But it’s also a picture, consequently, that is far more memorable for its

The Secret Life of Pets 2 (2019)   It says something regarding the misplaced confidence Illumination had in this would-be second franchise that they included Minions and Pets in the animated logo preceding The Secret Life of Pets 2. While this sequel took a not-to-be-sneezed-at $433m, it was rather shockingly (not least to Universal) less than half the original’s global gross. Tellingly, no third instalment has been announced. It shouldn’t be a surprise, as this movie, following a decent but unremarkable predecessor, is patchy at best. Or patchwork, more accurately, attempting to juggle three separate plotlines and rather rudely mash them

Home Alone 2: Lost in New York (1992)   Chris Columbus’s sequel to his surprise 1990 box-office sensation, again produced and scripted by John Hughes, offers more of everything. More ultra-violence, more Macauley – rather than Maclunkey – Culkin precociousness as Kevin, more desperate attempts by his parents to locate their lost son, more sentiment ladled on with shovel. And more minutes – you really feel the entirely uncalled for extra twenty of dead weight. Home Alone 2: Lost in New York does, then, offer a case of diminishing returns for what is a virtual remake, give or take relocating to New

Bad Santa 2 (2016)   An unasked for and uninspired attempt to milk a franchise that didn’t need milking, the only surprise with Bad Santa 2 is that it occasionally does manage to raise a smile amid the rather tired attempts to replicate the first movie’s laughs. Albeit, this entails looking everywhere for ways to shock and be transgressive. You’d be forgiven for thinking the movie was on the former Weinsten Company’s slate for dusting off properties with the vaguest potential, but no, the brothers weren’t involved this time. Which puts Billy Bob Thornton squarely in the frame for its eventual materialisation. You can’t

Jumanji: The Next Level (2019)   A sequel that, for the most part, repeats the strengths and weaknesses of its predecessor. Which means there’s a lot of fun to be had during the early stages of Jumanji: The Next Level and the “getting to know your avatar”, but an inevitable petering out as the straighter-playing action questing progressively takes over. And as before, it’s the natural comedians who come out best, Kevin Hart taking home the lion’s share of the laughs. Although, a mid-stage appearance from Awkwafina nearly passes him on the inside on the home straight. The best notion by far

Doctor Sleep (2019)   Doctor Sleep is a much better movie than it probably ought to be. Which is to say, it’s an adaption of a 2013 novel that, by most accounts, was a bit of a dud. That novel was a sequel to The Shining, one of Stephen King’s most beloved works, made into a film that diverged heavily, and in King’s view detrimentally, from the source material. Accordingly, Mike Flanagan’s Doctor Sleep also operates as a follow up to the legendary Kubrick film. In which regard, it doesn’t even come close. And yet, judged as its own thing, which can at times

Terminator: Dark Fate (2019)   I’d speculated that James Cameron might be purposefully giving his hand-me-downs to lesser talents because he hubristically didn’t want anyone making a movie that was within a spit of the proficiency we’ve come to expect from him. Certainly, Robert Rodriguez and Tim Miller are leagues beneath Kathryn Bigelow, Jimbo’s former spouse and director of his Strange Days screenplay. Miller’s no slouch when it comes to action – which is what these movies are all about, let’s face it – but neither is he a craftsman, so all those reviews attesting that Terminator: Dark Fate is the best in the

Happy Death Day 2U (2019)   The biggest failing of this sequel to the surprisingly witty 2017 Groundhog Day horror is that it stops short of fully embracing the out-there potential of invoking Back to the Future Part II. Instead, writer-director Christopher Landon opts to coast somewhat on a what-if scenario, in which returning protagonist Tree (Jessica Rothe) gets to experience an alt-reality where her mum never died, and she must decide whether to give that up to get back to her own universe. Which is agreeable enough, but hardly trailblazing in terms of plotting. As before, Happy Death Day 2U is at its best

How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World (2019)   I was a big fan of How to Train Your Dragon, and rated the sequel as a cut above most repetitive, remixed follow-up fare, even if it was thoroughly embedded with second-chapter tropes. This third instalment, however, arriving half a decade after its predecessor, feels more like contractual obligation than the consequence of a real yen to tell a story. The focus on dragon Toothless ends up yielding a rather toothless story. There isn’t much left for Hiccup (Jay Baruchel) to prove, so he’s required to make bad choices, while his

It Chapter Two (2019)   An exercise in stultifying repetitiveness, It Chapter Two does its very best to undo all the goodwill engendered by the previous instalment. It may simply be that adopting a linear approach to the novel’s interweaving timelines has scuppered the sequel’s chances of doing anything the first film hasn’t. Oh, except getting rid of Pennywise for good, which you’d be hard-pressed to discern as substantially different to the CGI-infused confrontation in the first part, Native American ritual aside. So the jokes about Stephen King’s original ending, which include both a Peter Bogdanovich cameo and one by Stephen himself,

Ghostbusters II (1989)   Columbia doubtless saw a Ghostbusters sequel as a licence to print money. Well, they did after David Puttnam, who disdained the overt commercialism of blockbusters – as you might guess, he didn’t last very long; just over a year – was replaced as chairman by Dawn Steel. Troubled waters were smoothed over – he’d effectively insulted Bill Murray, as well as claiming a sequel was going ahead; Ivan Reitman’s office responded that it was “The first we’ve heard of it” – and development put into high gear. But the studio ended up with a box office also-ran, thoroughly eclipsed by the summer

Spider-Man 2 (2004)   It may be a relatively minor heresy, as these things go, but I prefer the first Spider-Man to Sam Raimi’s praise-showered sequel. More accomplished in terms of character work, effects and interweaving plotting it may be, but Spider-Man 2 just isn’t as much fun. There’s certainly amusement to be had from Raimi revelling in his use of Peter Parker as a punching bag – not as extreme as the tortures inflicted upon Bruce Campbell’s Ash, but in the same ballpark – be it the character’s pallid resistance to embarking on a relationship with MJ – Dunst gets stick for being

Stranger Things 3 (2019)   It’s very clear, by this point, that Stranger Things isn’t going to serve up any surprises. It’s operating according to a strict formula, one requiring the opening of the portal to the Upside Down every season and an attendant Demogorgon derivative threat to leak through, only to be stymied at the last moment by our valorous team. It’s an ’80s sequel cycle through and through, and if you’re happy with it functioning exclusively on that level, complete with a sometimes overpowering (over)dose of nostalgia references, this latest season will likely strike you as just the ticket. I

The Exorcist III (1990)   The demand for reshoots on The Exorcist III, as seems to be the case more often than not, failed to bolster its box office. One might argue that alone made tampering with William Peter Blatty’s vision for the picture redundant. Ironically, however, it may have resulted in a superior film; while I haven’t seen the “Director’s Cut” version of the film assembled a few years back (glued together with sticky tape and Blu Tack might be more accurate, given the quality of the materials available), nothing I’ve read about it makes it sound markedly superior to

The Matrix Revolutions (2003)   Plenty of movies become hugely successful while killing off their protagonist (Gladiator only three years earlier, for example), so that’s definitely not the problem per se with The Matrix Revolutions. No, it’s principally that, despite being filmed back-to-back with The Matrix Reloaded – so ennui on the directors’ part wasn’t a factor – the film feels like the trilogy has run out of steam and inspiration. The most egregious error on the Wachowskis’ part is the decision to double down on the activities in Zion, the real-world component of the movies having steadily grown by this point. Worse, we’re

The Silence of the Lambs (1991)   I was pleased for The Silence of the Lambs’ Oscar glory, a rare genre entry to be bestowed such garlands, even though I didn’t think it was the most deserving of that year’s nominees (that would be JFK, Oliver Stone’s crowning achievement, after which he would never quite be the same again). Indeed, while it’s generally regarded, with hindsight, as one the Academy definitely got right, I don’t think it’s even the best Thomas Harris adaptation. Maybe it’s simply that I read the novel first, and so I was spoiled for its content, but even

Glass (2019)   If nothing else, one has to admire M Night Shyamalan’s willingness to plough ahead regardless with his straight-faced storytelling, taking him into areas encouraging outright rejection or merciless ridicule, with all the concomitant charges of hubris. Reactions to Glass have been mixed at best, but mostly more characteristic of the period he plummeted from his must-see, twist-master pedestal (during the period of The Village and The Happening). Which is to say, quite scornful. And yet, this is very clearly the story he wanted to tell, so if he undercuts audience expectations and leaves them dissatisfied, it’s most definitely not a result of miscalculation

Mary Poppins Returns (2018)   This 54-years-later sequel has to be admired for its dedication to replicating the look and flavour of the beloved Julie Andrews original, and it gets several elements very right – most importantly the recasting of the title role – but the side-effect of such devotion is that its comparative deficiencies are unflatteringly laid bare for all to see. Most particularly, the songs. They don’t outright suck, but only one of them is remotely memorable, and you need them to be, if you’re to make the all-too wholesome medicine go down. The other biggie is Rob

Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald (2018)   First things first: that title. Or rather, subtitle. Since it’s indicative of some of the broader issues with the movie(s). Let’s ignore for a moment that Fantastic Beasts, as a prescriptive main title, is entirely unrepresentative of this developing prequel universe, as out of place as the nominal protagonist who comes with it. The Crimes of Grindelwald is an inert, passive, unimpressive slab of nothing. The Harry Potter sequels presented themes, mysteries or goals in their subtitles; they incited interest. Here we have a statement, regarding which we’ll be none the wiser when we’ve watched it. You

Halloween (2018)   Proof that you can keep going back to the same crumbling well and there’ll still be a ready and willing (nostalgic) audience to lap up the results. At least, for the first weekend. The critics seemed to like this sequel to the first movie, though, which expressly wipes out Halloween H20: Twenty Years Later – which also retconned out of existence everything aside from the first two movies. Mind you, the makers would do that, since both cover similar ground, while this Halloween isn’t noticeably superior. H20 took a slicker approach, perhaps, riding the crest of the Scream wave (Kevin Williamson wrote the story).

The Predator (2018)   Is The Predator everything you’d want from a Shane Black movie featuring a Predator (or Yautja, or Hish-Qu-Ten, apparently)? Emphatically not. We’ve already had a Shane Black movie featuring a Predator – or the other way around, at least – and that was on another level. The problem – aside from the enforced reshoots, and the not-altogether-there casting, and the possibility that full-on action extravaganzas, while delivered competently, may not be his best foot forward – is that I don’t think Black’s really a science-fiction guy, game as he clearly was to take on the permanently beleaguered franchise.

The Avengers 5.18: Return of the Cybernauts   Avengers sequels not featuring Brodny are a rarity, and as obvious a no-brainer as this follow-up to last season’s crowd-pleaser is, it rather underlines that the show was never at its best when returning to past glories (not least by churning out straight remakes). Return of the Cybernauts at least boasts a couple of elements that put it above its predecessor, however, even if the improvement is very much relative. Steed: You like Beresford, don’t you? Mrs Peel: Yes. Don’t you? Steed: He has a good line in claret. Particularly the ’29. Mrs Peel: Nothing to dislike is there?

Ant-Man and the Wasp (2018)   The belated arrival of the Ant-Man sequel on UK shores may have been legitimately down to World Cup programming, but it nevertheless adds to the sense that this is the inessential little sibling of the MCU, not really expected to challenge the grosses of a Doctor Strange, let alone the gargantuan takes of its two predecessors this year. Empire magazine ran with this diminution, expressing disappointment that it was “comparatively minor and light-hitting” and “lacks the scale and ambition of recent Marvel entries“. Far from deficits, for my money, these should be regard as accolades bestowed upon Ant-Man and

Incredibles 2 (2018)   Incredibles 2 may not be as fresh as the first outing – indeed, certain elements of its plotting border on the retread – but it’s equally, if not more, inventive as a piece of animation, and proof that, whatever his shortcomings may be philosophically, Brad Bird is a consummately talented director. This is a movie that is consistently very funny, and one that’s as thrilling as your average MCU affair, but like Finding Dory, you may understandably end up wondering if it shouldn’t have revolved around something a little more substantial to justify that fifteen-year gap in reaching

Sicario 2: Soldado aka Sicario: Day of the Soldado (2018)   I wasn’t among the multitude greeting the first Sicario with rapturous applause. It felt like a classic case of average material significantly lifted by the diligence of its director (and cinematographer and composer), but ultimately not all that. Any illusions that this gritty, violent, tale of cynicism and corruption – all generally signifiers of “realism” – in waging the War on Drugs had a degree of credibility well and truly went out the window when we learned that Benicio del Toro’s character Alejandro Gillick wasn’t just an unstoppable kickass ninja hitman; he

Despicable Me 3 (2017)   The Illumination formula is at least reliable, consistently and comfortably crowd-pleasing, where DreamWorks often seems faintly desperate (because they are – who’s their distributor this week?) Despicable Me 3 ploughs the same cosy, affirmative furrow as its wholly safe predecessor. When I saw Despicable Me 2, I mentioned that it reminded me of Shrek 2 in its attempt to continue a story that was complete in itself. Despicable Me 3 is similarly redundant, suggesting the most airless of brainstorming sessions – Gru has the kids, the wife, the job, how about he now gets a sibling? – although this time, I was

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom (2018)   One thing the Colin Trevorrow and Derek Connolly scripted follow up to their ludicrously popular Jurassic World has going for it is that it finally delivers on the promise any self-respecting dinosaur exploitation aficionado would have meted out in the first Jurassic Park sequel, rather than waiting another 25 years until the fourth. And even then, they only offer a closing-moments taster of what to expect next time. But that’s been a problem with this series all over, caught between the desire to have the prehistoric beasties scare the bejesus out of youngsters, on the one hand, and

Deadpool 2 (2018)   Perhaps it’s because I was lukewarm on the original, but Deadpool 2 mercifully disproves the typical consequence of the “more is more” approach to making a sequel. By rights, it should plummet into the pitfall of ever more excess to diminishing returns, yet for the most part it doesn’t.  Maybe that’s in part due to it still being a relatively modest undertaking, budget-wise, and also a result of being very self-aware – like duh, you might say, that’s its raison d’être – of its own positioning and expectation as a sequel. It resolutely fails to teeter over the precipice

Avengers: Infinity War (2018)   The cliffhanger sequel, as a phenomenon, is a relatively recent thing. Sure, we kind of saw it with The Empire Strikes Back – one of those “old” movies of which Peter Parker is so fond – a consequence of George Lucas deliberately borrowing from the Republic serials, but he had no guarantee of being able to complete his trilogy. It was really Back to the Future that began the trend, and promptly drew a line under it for another decade. In more recent years, really starting with The Matrix shooting the second and third instalments back-to-back has become a thing, both

Iron Man 2 (2010)   Difficult second album syndrome. So difficult, the main architect subsequently surrendered control to – or was tactfully pushed aside for – Shane Black, and the trilogy ended on a blissful high (although, mileage on that view varies). Iron Man 2 is as typically over-stuffed as has become the de-rigueur cliché for sequels, and you’d have hoped studios would have learnt by now. Two villains (neither of whom quite come together, one through intent – he’s vaguely comic relief – and the other through being a bit shit). Two Iron Men (well, one War Machine and an Iron

Jaws: The Revenge (1987)   Jaws IV is, of course, one of the worst movies ever made, one of the biggest stinkers ever to have erupted from Hollywood. That’s the received wisdom, at any rate, seemingly even underlined by its stars, with Michael Caine famously citing it as paying for his house, and that, despite not having seen it, he was “reliably informed that it is, by all accounts, terrible”. But what if it isn’t? What if Jaws: The Revenge is actually – not a high bar, I know – the best of the Jaws sequels? “But the premise is ludicrous” I hear you cry.

The Incredible Hulk (2008)   It’s fortunate the bookends of Marvel’s Phase One are so sturdy, as the intervening four movies simply aren’t that special. Mediocre might be too strong a word – although, at least one qualifies for that status – but they amount to a series of at-best-serviceable vehicles for characters rendered on screen with varying degrees of nervousness and second guessing. They also underline that, through the choices of directors, no one was bigger than the franchise, and no one had more authority than supremo Kevin Feige. Which meant there was integrity of overall vision, but sometimes

Jaws 3-D (1983)   Well, not 3-D the way I saw it, although you’d have to be deluded, or have fallen asleep (the latter most likely) not to (sporadically) be alarmed at the manner in which Jaws 3 was configured for that format. A belated sequel, five years down the line from Jaws 2, it showed Universal all at sea and floundering, rather than making the most from their unexpected cash cow. Jaws 3-D’s premise (more commonly known as simply Jaws III outside of theatres) was arrived at after Steven Spielberg nixed a much more daring shake up of a franchise that was

Jaws 2 (1978)   Being a luddite in my formative years (doubtless continuing to this day), I didn’t readily discern the qualitative difference between Jaws and Jaws 2 until much later. Indeed, in some respects, I think I found Jaws 2 more impressive. Well, the manner of dispatching the shark, anyway. That was, of course, nonsense (although, the dispatching of the shark is pretty good and is even set up with a Chekov’s Undersea Power Cable in the first act). But Jaws 2 isn’t a bad sequel, certainly in an age before such enterprises were awarded due respect and weren’t just cheap cash-ins. During the ’70s, there were cheap cash-ins,

Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle (2017)   Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle is good fun, and sometimes, that’s enough. It doesn’t break any new ground, and the establishing act is considerably better than the rather rote plotting and character development that follows, but Jake Kasdan’s semi-sequel more than justifies the decision to return to the stomping ground of the tepid 1995 original, a movie sold on its pixels, and is comfortably able to coast on the selling point of hormonal teenagers embodying grown adults. This is by some distance Kasdan’s biggest movie, and he benefits considerably from Gyula Pados’s cinematography. Kasdan

Paddington 2 (2017)   Paddington 2 is every bit as upbeat and well-meaning as its predecessor. It also has more money thrown at it, a much better villain (an infinitely better villain) and, in terms of plotting, is more developed, offering greater variety and a more satisfying structure. Additionally, crucially, it succeeds in offering continued emotional heft and heart to the Peruvian bear’s further adventures. It isn’t, however, quite as funny. Even suggesting such a thing sounds curmudgeonly, given the universal applause greeting the movie, but I say that having revisited the original a couple of days prior and found myself enjoying it

Stranger Things 2 (2017)   It would be very easy to adore Stranger Things uncritically. When it first filtered into my awareness it was still called Montauk, and I made a mental note to follow its fortunes due to that connection to the holy grail of unholy conspiratorial government projects (as noted in my Season 1 review, and it’s an aspect that curiously seems to be entirely not discussed by anyone involved for whatever reason, despite Eleven being a pretty clear gender-swapped carry-through). Perhaps because my immediate attention lay there, much of the subsequent negative conversation, relegating the show to no more than an ’80s

Star Trek: Nemesis (2002)   Out of the ST:NG movies, Star Trek: Nemesis seems to provoke the most outrage among fans, the reasons mostly appearing to boil down to continuity and character work. In the case of the former, while I can appreciate the beef, I’m not enough of an aficionado to get too worked up. In the case of the latter, well, the less of the strained inter-relationships between this bunch that make it to the screen, the better (director Stuart Baird reportedly cut more than fifty minutes from the picture, most of it relating to underscoring the crew, leading to a quip

Blade Runner 2049 (2017)   It was a questionable thing for (Sir) Ridley Scott and Alcon to go ahead with a sequel to an all-time classic that wasn’t screaming for one, and whose very pervasive influence makes any attempt appear immediately defensive. How much credit they should get for pulling off the seemingly impossible is debatable, however. Ridders was certainly right to go to Hampton Fancher for (co-)screenplay duties, but the clincher was probably delegating directing to Dennis Villeneuve; the Ridley of today just couldn’t direct a slow-burn, immersive piece like his original, and would have turned Blade Runner 2049 into something

Kingsman: The Golden Circle (2017)   Matthew Vaughn may have talked a good game when highlighting those successful follow-ups, and their winning ingredients, he aspired to for his first home-grown sequel, but unfortunately he falls prey to the worst excesses of typical bigger, baggier, more bloated studio fare. Kingsman: The Golden Circle is more Die Hard 2 or Iron Man 2 than John Wick Chapter 2 or The Empire Strikes Back. Not that I think trying for the latter kind of model works on this kind of movie anyway. Kingsman hews closer to the Austin Powers side of Bond than the Bourne, so pasting the beats of an earnest one over an essentially frivolous enterprise leads

XXX: Return of Xander Cage aka XXX: Reactivated (2017)   Is there a new “Vin Diesel model” for movie successes? The XXX franchise looked dead in the water after the Vin-less 2005 sequel grossed less than a third of its predecessor. If you were to go by the US total, XXX: Return of Xander Cage was a similar flunk. And yet, a sequel is guaranteed. The key to this rehabilitation appears to be borrowing from the Fast & Furious franchise rule book (or the one operating since entry No.5, at any rate): bring on the international casting and sit Vin at the top as their leader.

Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey (1991)   The game of how few sequels are actually better than the original is so well worn, it was old when Scream 2 made a major meta thing out of it (and it wasn’t). Bill & Ted Go to Hell, as Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey was originally called, is one such. Not that Excellent Adventure is anything to be sneezed at, but this one’s more confident, even more playful, more assured and more smartly stupid. And, in Peter Hewitt, it has a director with a much more overt and fittingly cartoonish style than the amiably pedestrian Stephen Herrick. Evil Bill: First,

Ice Age: Collision Course (2016)   Five hasn’t been the charm lately, underlining, as if it were necessary, that studios never know to quit while they’re ahead. True, Fast Five found its franchise propelled to new box office heights, but this summer’s Transformers: The Last Knight looks like it will have to settle for about half the gross of its predecessor (pretty awful considering Paramount set up a writer’s room in order to spew out a whole universe of robot spin-off movies and sequels). Pirates of the Caribbean: Salazars Tell No Tales has actually done okay, but that’s still a $300m drop on On Stranger Tides. And

Fright Night Part 2 (1988)   So ingrained on my memory is the trailer for Fright Night Part 2 – I can only assume it was a regular on rental releases at the time – that I’d half recollected it being for the original, rather than a flick I’d never seen. Until now. I probably shouldn’t have bothered, for while Fright Night has modest charms, its sequel is all but bereft of them, and so – getting back to the point of my first sentence – entirely at odds with its trailer, which makes it seem even broader, wackier and funnier than the first.

Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country (1991)   The OST movie consigned the status of just being incredibly solid by default, rather than through any particular flaws in its construction. If The Wrath of Khan takes the crown through being masterful on every level, and The Voyage Home, against the odds, calls back to the series’ comedy episodes but in a way that’s better than pretty much any of them, Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country’s bronze medal is nothing to be sneezed at. It’s just that it doesn’t quite have the same distinguishing spark. Of course, all three share Nicholas Meyer on script and/or directing

Pirates of the Caribbean: Salazar’s Revenge aka Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales (2017) The biggest mistake the Pirates of the Caribbean sequels have made is embracing continuity. It ought to have been just Jack Sparrow with an entirely new cast of characters each time (well, maybe keep Kevin McNally). Even On Stranger Tides had Geoffrey Rush obligatorily returning as Barbossa. Although, that picture’s biggest problem was its director; Pirates of the Caribbean: Salazar’s Revenge has a pair of solid helmers in Joachim Rønning and Espen Sandberg, which is a relief, at least. But alas, the continuity is back with a vengeance. And

“Predalien” The Alien-Predator-verse ranked   Fox got in there with the shared-universe thing long before the current trend. Fortunately for us, once they had their taste of it, they concluded it wasn’t for them. But still, the Predator and Alien franchises are now forever interconnected, and it better justifies a ranking if you have more than six entries on it. So please, enjoy this rundown of the “Predalien”-verse.  Alien vs. Predator: Requiem (2007) An almost wilfully wrongheaded desecration of both series’ legacies that attempts to make up for AVP’s relative prurience by being as transgressive as possible. Chestbursters explode from small children! Predaliens impregnate pregnant

Alien: Covenant (2017)   In tandem with the release of increasingly generic-looking promotional material for Alien: Covenant, a curious, almost-rehabilitation of its predecessor’s rocky legacy seemed to occur, as some of its many naysayers were given to observe, “Well, at least Prometheus was trying something different”. It seems Sir Ridders can’t win: damned if he breaks new ground, damned if he charts a familiar course. The result is a compromise, and boy, does Covenant feel burdened by that at times. Still, those worried it would renege on Prometheus can relax in at least one important regard: Covenant is easily as stupid in terms of character motivation. And, for this

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (2017)   Most of the time, we’ll settle for a solid, satisfying sequel, even if we’re naturally going to be rooting for a superlative one. Filmmakers are currently so used to invoking the impossible standard of The Empire Strikes Back/The Wrath of Khan, of advancing character and situation, going darker and encountering sacrifice, that expectations are inevitably tempered. Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 is indebted to at least some of those sequel tropes, although it’s arguably no darker than its predecessor, if more invested in character development. Indeed, for a series far more rooted (grooted?) in

Predators (2010)   By the time this belated Predator 3 arrived, anything that treated either of Fox’s monster franchises with a modicum of decorum was to be embraced, so Predators, overly indebted to John McTiernan’s original as it is, is not exactly a breath of fresh air but nevertheless agreeably serviceable. You might have hoped for something more innovative after 23 years in the standalone wilderness, but at least you didn’t get Alien vs. Predator: Reheated. Of course, this is essentially Robert Rodriguez’ 1994 screenplay spruced up slightly. As such, it displays the kind of slipshod approach to narrative that has served the writer-director-producer-auteur-in-his-own-bedroom’s

AVP: Alien vs. Predator (2004)   I suppose it made sound financial sense for Fox to greenlight Alien vs. Predator (or AVP: Alien vs. Predator), but that was about all it made. Perhaps they saw it as a toss-up. A once prestigious, feted series that had been gradually diminished by troubled productions and iffy creative choices, all the while to escalating costs and diminishing returns. This one would come in relatively cheaply, with no star overheads and a safe-pair-of-hands director. Against that, what price the damage to the franchise, which would now be rendered, as James Cameron put it, on a level with Frankenstein

Alien Resurrection (1997)   At least Alien3 has its die-hard defenders, particularly with the advent of The Assembly Cut. Alien Resurrection appears destined to remain the unloved, ugly and reviled newborn of the original quartet, a sequel that’s full of ideas (probably more than the rest put together), but fails to deliver them in an entirely satisfying way. It doesn’t even end properly, something that could at least be relied upon previously (with the consequence of “now get-out of that rewriting” for the sequels), making the fact that it was never followed up additionally cruel. Neill Blomkamp even wanted to retcon it and Alien3 out of existence;

Alien3 (1992)   Prior to its release, Alien3 was probably my most anticipated movie up to that point, and few have surpassed it for sheer weight of expectation since. Certainly, while I ended up greatly enjoying the previous year’s Terminator 2: Judgment Day (it has since fallen somewhat in my estimation), I went in dubious about a number of elements (not least Arnie becoming the good guy). But I had devotedly followed the ups and downs of progress on the third Alien film over the previous half decade. As with T2, various line-ups (Renny Harlin) and rumours (Arnie would play Hicks?!) didn’t exactly ignite optimism, but the

The Huntsman: Winter’s War (2016)   The first Huntsman movie, sorry, I mean Snow White movie featuring the Huntsman, was a reasonably watchable affair that did better business than most were expecting. Not Maleficent levels, but enough to warrant a sequel. The arising question then becomes, why put a sequel into production when it’s as broken backed in conception as The Huntsman: Winter’s War, and is virtually guaranteed returns that render giving it the greenlight questionable? Well, I guess the answer is: you never do know. After all, that 300 prequel did surprisingly well, so even not having Kristen Stewart on board for Winter’s War didn’t necessarily spell doom for a

Split (2016)   M Night Shyamalan went from the toast of twist-based filmmaking to a one-trick pony to the object of abject ridicule in the space of only a couple of pictures: quite a feat. Along the way, I’ve managed to miss several of his pictures, including his last, The Visit, regarded as something of a re-locating of his footing in the low-budget horror arena. Split continues that genre readjustment, another Blumhouse production, one that also manages to bridge the gap with the fare that made him famous. But it’s a thematically uneasy film, marrying shlock and serious subject matter in ways that

John Wick: Chapter 2 (2017)   There’s no guessing he’s back. John Wick’s return is most definite and demonstrable, in a sequel that does what sequels ought in all the right ways, upping the ante while never losing sight of the ingredients that made the original so formidable. John Wick: Chapter 2 finds the minimalist, stripped-back vehicle and character of the first instalment furnished with an elaborate colour palette and even more idiosyncrasies around the fringes, rather like Mad Max in that sense, and director Chad Stahleski (this time without the collaboration of David Leitch, but to no discernible deficit) ensures the action is

T2 Trainspotting (2017)   “First there was an opportunity. And then there was a betrayal.” The story of making of The Beach? I had been of the view that Danny Boyle was dicing with artistic death by revisiting past glories, particularly given Trainspotting’s dismissal of those who inevitably get old, past it and deteriorate, but this – and maybe it is just that nostalgia talking, an active conversation the picture cannily embraces and foregrounds, almost metatextually so – is his best picture since those glory days. He can’t resist overdoing the directorial dazzle at times, and screenwriter John Hodge’s conceits don’t always come off,

Monte Carlo or Bust! aka Those Daring Young Men in Their Jaunty Jalopies (1969)   Ken Annakin’s semi-sequel to Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines tends to be rather maligned, usually compared negatively to its more famous predecessor. Which makes me rather wonder if those expressing said opinion have ever taken the time to scrutinise them side by side. Or watch them back to back (which would be more sensible). Because Monte Carlo or Bust is by far the superior movie. Indeed, for all its imperfections and foibles (not least a performance from Tony Curtis requiring a taste for comic ham), I adore

Batman Returns (1992)   I always feel as if I should like Batman Returns much more than I do. It gets several things very right, and it’s fairly undiluted Tim Burton. But perhaps that’s part of the problem. Enough of it shows off the slightly indulgent, sentimental Burton of Edward Scisssorhands, as opposed to the uncompromisingly anarchic one of Beetlejuice, such that the possibility this might be his equivalent of Gremlins 2: The New Batch – a director let loose on a sequel, given carte blanche to do his own thing by a wilfully unsuspecting studio, especially so since it’s Warner Bros again – is left

Alice Through the Looking Glass (2016)   Alice Through the Looking Glass isn’t quite the turkey its critical and box-office reception might suggest; it’s certainly more engaging than the torpid Tim Burton original, which rode the crest of Avatar’s coattails to $1bn worldwide on the strength of post-conversion 3D . But, and this is a big but, the motivation motoring this sequel is a real bust, and it means that, for all that some elements absolutely work (Sacha Baron Cohen, perhaps surprisingly given recent form), it entirely lacks the emotional underpinning and pay-off it should. This is largely down to one entirely

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (1986)   Perhaps Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home’s greatest achievement is that it makes it all look so easy. Almost (and I do mean this as a compliment) as if they aren’t even really bothering, and the cast reunited on the understanding they could all just have a laugh. This was the most successful movie with the original line-up (although, inflation-adjusted, it trails The Motion Picture), so it’s additionally telling that no one is attempting to repeat its success as a formula the way they have with The Wrath of Khan. That’s partly because the plot is pretty

Jason Bourne (2016)   The Bourne Jasonity, as it is also known, makes one wonder a bit. Did the added luxury of time, notably absent from the pressure-cooker production schedule of the previous Greengrass-Damon Bourne efforts, ultimately have a negative effect on the end result? Does Bourne need conflict and up-against-it difficulties to make something special (there were copious reshoots on Identity too, of course)? Because Jason Bourne isn’t anything special. It’s a serviceable thriller, but as a Bourne movie, and the high standards by which the series is rightly judged, it’s something of a disappointment. Which leads one to doubly question the wisdom of blowing the cobwebs off Damon’s

Finding Dory (2016)   The problem facing Pixar’s animated sequels, more so than its big studio neighbours, is that by making the emotional journey the be-all and end-all, rather than whacky hijinks and endless gags (which support rather than lead in Lasseterland), they run the risk of cheapening the much-vaunted substance of their endeavours through repetition. Characters must learn and then re-learn lessons, unnecessary additional arcs having no option but to reinforce the initial, primary one, because the characters reached a perfectly sufficiently satisfying place originally, thank you. As more than competent as Finding Dory is, there’s really no need for it,

Star Trek III: The Search for Spock (1984)   It’s a somewhat over-optimistic suggestion by defenders of the third big screen Star Trek that it doesn’t deserve to be lumped in with the curse of the odd-numbered Trek movies. What they’re getting at is that The Search for Spock isn’t actually bad. Which it isn’t, but it is blighted by being so non-descript in its ambition that it rather gets lost between the surrounding sequels that actually do vie for attention, in whatever manner. The truth is, there’s a more than solid – even maybe really good – picture lurking within The Search for Spock, but it’s flattened into the

Star Trek Beyond (2016)   The odd/even Star Trek failure/success rule seemed to have been cancelled out with the first reboot movie, and then trodden into ground with Into Darkness (which, yes, I quite enjoyed, for all its scandalous deficiencies). Star Trek Beyond gets us back onto more familiar ground, as it’s very identifiably a “lesser” Trek, irrespective of the big bucks and directorial nous thrown at it. This is a Star Trek movie that can happily stand shoulder to shoulder with The Search for Spock and Insurrection, content in the knowledge they make it look good. But where, say, The Search for Spock had a rock-solid script undermined by sloppy direction, Star Trek XIII is

Robocop 2 (1990)   The potential for a decent movie is lurking somewhere within Robocop 2’s torrid metallic shell. Cast aside the tone-deaf visuals, the horrendous score from Leonard Rosenman (quite possibly the worst such to afflict a major motion picture outside of, well the ’80s; and at least they aren’t accompanied by the unheavenly choral charge of “Robocop!”) and the unerring facility for unpleasantness, and there’s something in there, deep underneath. Unfortunately, though, I suspect it was a doomed enterprise from the off. It falls apart through lacking the fundamental ingredients that make Robocop an abiding classic; an unwavering vision of what

Maze Runner: The Scorch Trials (2015)   No mazes, amazingly, but this is a superior sequel to the original in most respects, relieved as it is of a daffy ending and further showcasing Wes Ball’s confident accession to the status of first-rate action director. He’s so good at engaging with a raft of set pieces – even those replete with wanton, rampant CGI zombies, surely a no-no since I am Legend, shurely – that there’s little time to pause and debate whether Maze Runner: Scorch Trials makes any sense, and observe how the performances are mostly so-so and the dialogue on the crummy

Independence Day: Resurgence (2016)   I guess you can never quite tell. Dinosaurs have always been popular with kids, but that didn’t mean Jurassic World wasn’t going to be another Jurassic Park III (and just wait for that The Land That Time Forgot remake… anyone?) Independence Day seemed like a dazzling one-off marketing coup (aliens blow up the White House! – and other, less important global renowned global sites – as Jeff Goldblum knowingly informs us here “They like to get the landmarks”), but that didn’t mean its sequel couldn’t tap a similar vein of ‘90s nostalgia as Jurassic Park, or bring alien invasions to a rapt new generation.

Hook (1991)   Good grief, this is a bad movie. Lest defective memory had been forgiving, and you’d assumed Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull was Spielberg’s nadir, rest assured, it ain’t. Hook is so appallingly, unapologetically, repellently self-indulgent and grotesquely aberrant in sentiment, that the really very good performance of Dustin Hoffman can do little to save it. As unbelievably well-suited as Hoffman is to Captain Hook, channelling Terry-Thomas by way of Peter Cook, and so embodying a marvellously eccentric vision of preening pomposity, Robin Williams is benightedly miscast as the grown-up Peter. It was a hiding to nothing conceptually

Piranha II: The Spawning aka Piranha II: Flying Killers (1981)   James Cameron’s first movie, except he protests he was replaced after two-and-a-half weeks (or was it eight days?), shut out of the editing room, and generally disabused of any notion he had a say in the finished picture. And yet, he can’t escape this sequel to Joe Dante’s cheap and cheerful original as his generally cited debut, however divested of it he may be. Jimbo also cared enough (apparently) to produce his own edit for a little-seen laserdisc version. I had next to no desire to revisit this particular

Rambo: First Blood Part II (1985)   I’d like to say it’s mystifying that a film so bereft of merit as Rambo: First Blood Part II could have finished up the second biggest hit of 1985. It wouldn’t be as bad if it was, at minimum, a solid action movie, rather than an interminable bore. But the movie struck a chord somewhere, somehow. As much as the most successful picture of that year, Back to the Future, could be seen to suggest moviegoers do actually have really good taste, Rambo rather sends a message about how extensively regressive themes were embedding themselves in Reaganite, conservative

Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982)   I don’t love Star Trek, but I do love Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan. That probably isn’t just me, but a common refrain of many a non-devotee of the series. Although, it used to apply to The Voyage Home (the funny one, with the whales, the Star Trek even the target audience for Three Men and a Baby could enjoy). Unfortunately, its high regard has also become the desperate, self-destructive, song-and-verse, be-all-and-end-all of the overlords of the franchise itself, in whichever iteration, it seems. This is understandable to an extent, as Khan is that rare movie sequel made to

Aliens (1986)   (Special Edition) Aliens immediately became my favourite movie when I first saw it. It was a heart stopping roller coaster ride, and I didn’t want to get off. So much so, when it was over I instantly rewound the video tape and watched it again. James Cameron transformed the slow-burn atmospherics of Ridley Scott’s haunting original into an all-out attack/slaughter by/of xenomorphs; as the tagline announced, “This Time It’s War”. I can’t really apologise for having preferred it to Alien; it was simply a more accessible, adrenalised, edge-of-the-seat, air-punching experience. Time, hindsight and repeat viewings can change a lot;

Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice (2016)   You probably need to be sufficiently invested in the DC Universe in the first place to truly care about its cinematic desecration. Or even notice it. Much has already been said, and continues to be said – far more than any right-minded person can or should keep up with – over the past week about Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, how it defecates all over the legacy of Superman and isn’t even really doing Batman many favours, but that’s rather beside the point. Zack Snyder’s movie doesn’t fail because of its take

Predator 2 (1990)   1990 was a banner year for under-achieving sequels, illustrative of the problems that occur when studios decree product must be launched by any and all means possible. Arnie opted out of battling the alien hunter again, the baffling short straw going to Danny Glover. Director John McTiernan had moved onto bigger things, leaving Jamaican-born Stephen Hopkins to attempt to pass muster. Predator 2 duly made about half the amount of the original surprise hit, putting paid to franchise potential for another twelve years, when a whole posse of them squared off (and bulked up) against xenomorphs. Hopkins’ movie

Zoolander 2 (2016)   In which Derek Zoolander is brought out of self-imposed retirement, where he has become a hermit crab, following personal mishaps including the literal collapse of his Derek Zoolander Center For Kids Who Can’t Read Real Good (killing wife Matilda and horribly disfiguring Hansel) and the removal of son Derek Jr into the custody of Child Protection Services, due to the brainless supermodel’s inability to cook pasta even marginally good. Spurred by the prospect that gainful employment will lead to a reunion with his son, Derek Sr returns to the catwalk, but Interpol, and more especially Penelope

Exorcist II: The Heretic (1977)   While I’ve seen instalments the original and III a number of times, I hadn’t got round to checking out the near-universally reviled first Exorcist sequel until now. Going in, I had lofty notions Exorcist II: The Heretic would reveal itself as not nearly the travesty everyone said it was. Rather, that it would be deserving of some degree of praise, if only it was approached in the right manner. Well, there is something to that; as a sequel to The Exorcist, it sneers at preconceptions right off the bat by wholly failing to terrify, so its determined existence within the fabric of that film

Star Wars: The Force Awakens (2015)   Is Star Wars: The Force Awakens the Star Wars movie devotees of the Original Trilogy grail have been awaiting for more than thirty years? Obviously not, or it would have Episode VII in the title. There has been much talk of fan service in respect of the picture (not least from George Lucas), and the accusation at least partly stands, although the notion of “fan service” and what fans actually want tend to be two entirely different things (usually symptomatic of giving professional fans the keys to a kingdom, here JJ Abrams, on television Steven Moffat). On first viewing at least,

Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back (1980)   Perhaps the strangest take away from Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back is that its director created something so artful, so captivating and impressive, yet the rest of his filmography goes virtually unnoticed. Irvin Kershner even helmed entries in three other movie series (The Return of a Man Called Horse, unofficial Connery Bond return Never Say Never Again and Robocop 2, as well as attempted M*A*S*H cash-in S*P*Y*S), all of which were mediocre to disappointing. Lucas himself recognised that The Empire Strikes Back (just consider the lack of finesse of that title for a moment, and how the picture’s actual

Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith (2005)   Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith is the only series entry (thus far) I haven’t seen at the cinema. After the first two prequels I felt no great urgency, and it isn’t an omission I’d be hugely disposed to redress for (say) a twelve-hour movie marathon, were such a thing held in my vicinity. In the bare bones of Revenge of the Sith, however, George Lucas has probably the strongest, most confident of all Star Wars plots to date. This is, after all, the reason we have the prequels in the first place;

Quantum of Solace (2008)   Way to throw all Martin Campbell’s good work under a bus, Marc Forster. Quantum of Solace isn’t a Bond movie that turns bad, the way Die Another Day turns bad, although its action sequences set a new standard for lousy incoherence, but it’s utterly banal, lacking drive or momentum in a similarly manner to earlier Bond-out-for-revenge escapade Licence to Kill. The entire enterprise feels like the makers are fulfilling an obligation to continue their story directly from Casino Royale, rather than actually having one to tell. At every turn the finished picture is bereft of the inventiveness and freshness that informed its predecessor.

Army of Darkness (1992)   Or, Bruce Campbell vs Army of Darkness, as the opening title suggests. In some respects, Army of Darkness follows the Mad Max trilogy comparison; it’s bigger, more sprawling, and much less concerned with the engine that should be driving these films (it’s pretty much suspense-free). Fortunately, unlike Beyond Thunderdome, it’s still a lot of fun, prone to going off at comic tangents the way Joe Dante (much more successfully) did in Gremlins 2 a couple of years earlier. If Evil Dead II mixes comedy with horror tropes, Army of Darkness does the same with the fantasy genre, most notably Ray Harryhausen. Much of it is irresistibly goofy;

Evil Dead II aka Evil Dead 2: Dead by Dawn (1987)   Evil Dead II (also known with the subtitle Dead by Dawn) is one of the funniest films ever made, as a result of which it remains a high-water mark Sam Raimi and Bruce Campbell have yet to surpass. Understandably so, it will be no blemish against them if they are unable to again equal the sheer energy, inventiveness, exuberance, glee and craziness very throw into its every frame. It’s the movie that made both their careers, and the very definition of cult fare; one that was an extremely modest success on

Highlander II: The Quickening (1991)   (Director’s Cut) I saw Highlander II: The Quickening at the cinema. Yes, I actually paid money to see one of the worst mainstream sequels ever on the big screen. I didn’t bother investigating the Director’s Cut until now, since the movie struck me as entirely unsalvageable. I was sufficiently disenchanted with all things Highlander that I skipped the TV series and slipshod sequels, eventually catching Christopher Lambert’s last appearance as Connor MacLeod in Highlander: End Game by accident rather than design. But Highlander II’s on YouTube, and the quality is decent, so maybe the Director’s Cut improve matters and is worth a

The Divergent Series: Insurgent (2015)   I quite enjoyed the first Divergent, mostly because Shailene Woodley gave a strong performance, but also because Neil Burger managed to somehow drive the picture forward engagingly in spite of the nonsensical premise. Robert Schwentke picks up the reins for the sequel, and has no such luck. While the first 40 minutes are reasonable, it soon becomes apparent that Insurgent’s idea of plot progression is having Tris confront yet more bland, CGI-infused virtual realities. I even preferred the first movie to the most recent instalment of that darling of YAs, The Hunger Games, but Insurgent really does everything in

Terminator Genisys (2015)   The critics have not been kind to Terminator Genisys, and for the most part, I can’t take issue with them. Which is a shame, as this fifth instalment of what has become a terminally erratic franchise shows commendable willingness to tackle the conundrums of time travel head-on. Unfortunately, it just doesn’t follow through very well. It suggests what is (unchecked by insufficient box office to complete this prospective trilogy) an unwieldy and aesthetically incoherent infinite regression of Sarah Connor/Skynet timelines. This is the sort of thing that, with due care and a modicum of gravitas, might have

Terminator Salvation (2009)   (Director’s Cut) I wasn’t one of those (most people, it seems) who threw their hands up in horror at Terminator Salvation. Rise of the Machines had left me decidedly unimpressed, so perhaps I was just grateful for small mercies and in a forgiving mood the first time I the fourth in the franchise. I’d never been as down on McG as everyone else (sure, he falls victim to attention-deficit direction and maybe lacks the gravitas for serious sci-fi, but at least he can assemble a movie with reasonable aptitude), and the picture impressed for the effort that had gone into

Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines (2003)   A Terminator 3 was as inevitable as Arnold’s waning career. He was never going to stick to his pledge not to do a third without James Cameron (who had already made one too many, even if the second cemented his bankability and gave him a lavish box of effects tricks to play with).  The ’90s saw a steady downward career trend, not reversed by a second of the decade’s collaborations with Cameron and being sent to da coola in the debacle that was Batman and Robin. By the time Rise of the Machines arrived, Arnie was barely scraping

Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991)   (Director’s Cut) Is it really an “inviolable rule” that T2 is superior to the original? I well remember its feting when it was first released, as I was one of those blown away by it. And there’s no doubt that individual elements remain first rate. But aside from being bigger and more polished, Terminator 2: Judgment Day is inferior in almost every respect. Arnie has been turned into a good guy, which struck me then and still does as a cop-out. Worse, he effectively becomes John Connor’s pet dog (not so much the father figure). Revisiting the movie,

Jurassic World (2015)   Your reaction to the long-time coming fourth instalment of the Jurassic Park franchise will probably depend on the extent to which you hold the original in high esteem. I don’t, especially. It’s expertly made and all, but lacks the enthusiasm and brio Spielberg was brining to his adventure romps a decade earlier. I prefer its unloved follow-up (tantamount to claiming Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom over Raiders of the Lost Ark). Even that is by increments, though, and mainly because the ever-charismatic Jeff Goldblum is given his moment in the spotlight as Ian Malcolm. Jurassic World can claim superiority to the

Hannibal (2001)   Thomas Harris resoundingly trashed his greatest creation, and pretty much any critical respect, with Hannibal. His novels were pretty big deals even before Jonathan Demme adapted The Silence of the Lambs was, but anticipation for his next reached fever pitch in its aftermath. And he couldn’t not deal with what happened next to his cultured cannibal, now could he? The overriding impression that comes across from the novel is contempt; for Clarice Starling, for reader expectations, for the millstone that Hannibal Lecter had become. So Harris makes his audience suffer with him. The best thing Dino De Laurentis and his scriptwriters could

Jurassic Park III (2001)   Jurassic Park has to be a prime contender for the most doggedly formulaic of all blockbuster franchises. The Lost World went a bit darker, and even broke out of the park for one sequence, but it was otherwise so unadventurous that it even conjured a previously unmentioned second island out of nowhere. Spielberg couldn’t even be bothered to return for the second sequel, and it isn’t hard to see why. An inane contrivance to get (one of) our protagonist back on the island (or rather, the different island, and not even the interesting protagonist) and new characters with

Furious 7 (2015)   With the way the sixth sequel to The Fast and the Furious has been understandably overshadowed and informed by the loss of Paul Walker, you’d be forgiven for thinking it might exhibit a more sombre, reflective side to the series. Not a bit of it, any more than a franchise that continues to make an asset of the glib emotional inclusiveness that is Dom’s decree “I don’t have friends, I got family” has previously shown depth, thematic or otherwise. Rather, the most appealing aspect of Furious 7 is how far it goes to embrace the absurdity of the series in

Frank Miller’s Sin City: A Dame to Kill For (2014)   The surprising thing about this sequel is that the reactions to it pretty much mirror my response to Rodriguez and Miller’s generally applauded 2005 original. I was nonplussed by Sin City but, while I wouldn’t get carried away with praise, I found Sin City: A Dame to Kill For (sorry, I mean Frank Miller’s Sin City: A Dame to Kill For) a superior and, for the most part, better scripted anthology piece. Perhaps some of that is down to William Monahan’s involvement, even if he doesn’t get a final credit. Unlike the first, the individual

300: Rise of an Empire (2014)   300 didn’t particularly impress me, aside from highlighting that Zack Snyder is a visual stylist of some merit. One who desperately needs substance, and a guiding producer, to hold his excesses in check and keep him from turning every scene into yet more “cool shit”. However one milks it, 300 ends up as an ode to the fascistic, revelling in the world it creates to such an extent that it is never in danger of critiquing its Spartan heroes.  It’s also infused with an uneasy homoeroticism that expresses itself through rebuking anything weak or ugly or effeminate.

How to Train Your Dragon 2 (2014)   There’s good reason to be cynical about the current state of animated sequels, what with every studio shamelessly strip-mining properties for franchise potential, irrespective of whether they merit it or not. No one is screaming for more Cars and Kung Fu Panda. Actually, they probably are, but they don’t know any better. DreamWorks is particularly guilty, although they at least never betrayed lofty pretensions the way Pixar did. That the first How to Train Your Dragon was such a pleasant surprise, the best animation from the studio since the first Shrek, instantly rang warning bells. Were they going

Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome (1985)   Time was kind to Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome. As in, it was such a long time since I’d seen the “final chapter” of the trilogy, it had dwindled in my memory to the status of an “alright but not great” sequel. I’d half-expected to have positive things to say along the lines of it being misunderstood, or being able to see what it was trying for but perhaps failing to quite achieve. Instead, I re-discovered a massive turkey that is really a Mad Max movie in name only (appropriately, since Max was an afterthought). This is the

Mad Max 2 (1981)   Much has been written in praise of Mad Max 2/The Road Warrior over the years, rightly noting its enormous influence (albeit in tandem with a number of other science fiction opuses in the surrounding five years), but mostly concentrating on its abiding status as a remarkably executed, fantastically taut, kinetic thrill ride. This sequel sees George Miller coax and expand the kernel of the original, teasing out the mythical elements therein and producing a big, bold, super-charged action engine. Mad Max 2 is an economical picture in storytelling, terms, just as its director recognises that grand spectacle is

Transformers: Age of Extinction (2014)   There’s a strong argument for not sitting down and watching the fourth crappy instalment of a franchise when only the original had any merit. Particularly when that original was passable but nothing special. And yet I still find myself curious to see if something or anything can salvage a latest outing of the robots in disguise. The sequels don’t even qualify as terrible, not in the sense of being actively offended by their existence (although the racist robots in the second deserve attention in that regard); they’re technically outstanding yet entirely indistinct, banal and

The Hunger Games: Mockingjay – Part 1 (2014)   The chief problem with The Hunger Games: Catching Fire was that it essentially reheated the first film, not an uncommon complaint of sequels generally. The Hunger Games: Mockingjay – Part 1 remedies this but in so doing exposes a far greater ailment. Without the central, and unlikely, gimmick (as in, this world is not really any more plausible than that of the much derided Divergent) of this particular totalitarian regime, there is no glue holding the picture together. As a result, the entire edifice begins to crumble, and the makers are left clutching desperately at the

Rio 2 (2014)   Rio was a fairly tepid affair, considerably enlivened by the most delicious villain to grace CGI animation in its near-twenty-year feature history. And so it is withRio 2; Jermaine Clement’s Nigel makes every scene with his haughty cockatoo a delight and nearly balances out the over-famiar Meet the Parents storyline, in which Spix’s macaw Blu (Ben Stiller, I mean Jesse Eisenberg) reluctantly ventures into the Amazon jungle with mate Jewel (Anne Hathaway) and their fledgling brood seeking out others of their rare species. The first Rio was a passion project for director Carlos Saldanha. It had been in development since 1995 (at which

Muppets Most Wanted (2014)   It’s a funny kind of a way to express one’s love for a property and its characters: spending a disproportionate amount of time on wholly new ones. True, a series shouldn’t stay still, or rest on its laurels, but if the innovation lacks any of the flair and that made it so good in the first place it would be better not to bother. Acknowledging this, as Muppets Most Wanted sort of does several times, can only do so much to affirm the self-referential wit for which the series is famous; it’s only clever to say you’re

Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs 2 (2013)   Phil Lord and Chris Miller elected not to return as directors for this sequel (unlike with their other franchise, 20-something Jump Street), although they did contribute the storyline. Nothing about Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs 2 suggests they spent more than ten minutes brainstorming; if the first film saw them going for a disaster movie, here they take the lost continent/ unexplored island route. The result is visually much more inventive than its predecessor, but manages to be simultaneously both narratively formulaic and thematically confused. Cody Cameron and Kris Pearn make their theatrical

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes (2014)   Perhaps the most damning thing one can say about Dawn of the Planet of the Apes is that, despite featuring 99 percent less of the ubiquitous James Franco (he’s ubiquitous, so he has to be in there somewhere), it isn’t not as good as its predecessor.  That’s not fault of the filmmaking, nor the performances, but a script that is unable to strike out beyond the pedestrian premise of “Can warring tribes ever broker lasting peace?” And yet, if ever there was a movie that is more than the sum of its parts, this

Shadow of the Thin Man (1941)   Nick and Norah’s fourth outing, seven years after the first, and incredibly there is little sign of a drop off in quality.  If the premise has the air of writers clutching for ideas (the murder of a jockey at a racetrack), the mystery unfolds engagingly, with sufficient diversions and red herrings, including a reporter pal of Nick’s accused of the crime, to more than satisfy. Unlike last time, the murderer is fairly easy to guess through a process of elimination, but as I’ve noted of the other sequels, and no doubt will again, the

Percy Jackson: Sea of Monsters (2013)   Thor Freudenthal’s half-hearted sequel to Chris Columbus’ 2010 sub-Harry Potter Young Adult adaptation reeks of a budget-strapped follow-up. Movies that don’t feel the urge to hit the two-hour finish line are fine by me, but when the quest for Golden Fleece is a one-stop shop it’s clear something has gone seriously awry somewhere. While there are a couple of sprightly elders livening up the supporting roles, Sea of Monsters mostly fails to pass muster, even stood next to its slight but likeable predecessor. Reputedly costing less than The Lightning Thief, the bean counters obviously decided it made

Another Thin Man (1939)   It would be perfectly reasonable to assume the introduction of a sprog to a husband and wife detective duo would be the death knell for a series. A sign that sentimentality and generally goo-iness have taken over. Nothing could be further from the truth in this third outing for The Thin Man series, an adaptation of Dashiell Hammett’s The Farewell Murder. Nicky Jr. is absolutely not central to the story, and our couple are as refreshingly flippant in their discussion of him as they are towards their own relationship (i.e. they don’t need to keep saying they love him). This