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  • Why People Like Casino Movies and Three Movies to Watch from the Last Decade


    There’s something magical about casino movies that keeps us glued to the screen. Maybe it’s the way the roulette wheel spins with our hearts racing, or how a poker player’s blank face hides a world of strategy. These films transport us to a world where fortunes change with a single card flip, where ordinary people become high-rolling risk-takers, and where the line between smart play and dangerous obsession blurs beautifully. Online casino movies aren’t just about gambling – they’re about human nature, everyone’s dreams of easy money, and the thrilling dance between luck and skill. Here’s why we can’t look away from these cinematic gems, along with three recent films that mastered the art of the gamble

    Compelling reasons Why People Like Casino Movies 

    a) Thrill of Risk with no Reckoning

    You will experience the excitement of gambling without losing our shirts. You can cheer when someone puts everything on a poker bet or hold our breath as dice roll across a table, secure in the fact that our money is still in our pockets. It’s a rush – like riding a rollercoaster from the safety of our own chair.

    b) The Style And Luxury

    From Monte Carlo’s glittering chandeliers to Vegas’ lights, casino films ignite dream realms we are irresistibly attracted to. Designer tuxedos, champagne coupes clicking together, high- stakes suspense make us imagine members of an elite club in which we all stylishly roll dice.

    c) High-Stakes Human Drama

    Aside from the cards and chips, casino movies are all about dramatic narratives of greed, addiction, and redemption. When a bettor puts everything on one hand, we aren’t looking at a bet – we are looking at what people do when they are desperate or determined.

    Three Must-See Casino Movies of the Last Decade

    1. Molly’s Game (2017) – The Poker Princess

    Aaron Sorkin’s directorial debut tells the true story of Molly Bloom, who ran Hollywood’s most exclusive underground poker games. Jessica Chastain delivers a career-best performance as the Olympic skier turned poker entrepreneur. The film stands out for:

    • Riveting monologues that make poker strategy sound like poetry
    • An all-star cast of fictionalized celebrities (including a memorably awful Tobey Maguire)
    • A rare female perspective in the male-dominated gambling genre

    2. Uncut Gems (2019) – Anxiety Attack Cinema

    Adam Sandler shocked critics with his portrayal of Howard Ratner, a jewelry dealer and gambling addict spiraling out of control. The Safdie brothers direct this stress-inducing masterpiece featuring:

    • The most realistic depiction of gambling addiction ever filmed
    • A pulsating electronic score that mimics a gambler’s racing heart
    • A career-defining performance from Sandler that’s light-years from his comedies

    3. The Card Counter (2021) – Poker as Penance

    Paul Schrader’s haunting film follows William Tell (Oscar Isaac), a former military interrogator who channels his trauma into poker. Unlike typical casino movies, this focuses on:

    • The monastic discipline of professional card counting
    • How gamblers use ritual to cope with past demons
    • The quiet intensity of low-stakes games rather than Vegas spectacle.

    Casino movies work because they tap into our deepest fantasies and fears about risk-taking. They let us imagine what we’d do with a lucky streak or how we’d handle devastating losses when dealing with real online casino all from the safety of our seats. These three modern classics show how the genre continues to evolve, offering everything from pulse-pounding tension to deep character studies. So next time you want to feel the rush of the casino without leaving home, these films are your perfect bet. 



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  • Two to One – Review from Glasgow Film Festival

    Two to One – Review from Glasgow Film Festival


    With the reunification of Germany, residents of the former GDR (or DDR, as it’s known in its mother tongue) were given less than a week to trade in their currency at a truly unfavourable rate of ‘two to one’. For an economy that was already shattered, with all state industries on the brink of extinction, it was another hammer blow to the people of the regime. 

    And it’s here where we find Maren (Sandra Hüller) at the start of writer / director Natja Brunckhorst’s Two to One. It’s July 1990 and she’s been made unemployed; as has her husband, Robert (Max Riemelt), and just about everyone else who lives in their apartment block. The socialist architecture of their domestic dwelling in Halberstadt underlines a community entirely dependent on a non-existent state for their income and home. Robert convinces his grouchy uncle Markowski (Peter Kurth) to let him, Maren and Volker (Ronald Zehrfeld) have a look in the state-owned bunker where he works. In there, they find entire caverns full of East German marks. With just days left to cash in as much as they can carry, they must hatch a plan. 

    There’s a relatively playful feel throughout the film. The kaleidoscopic opening credits almost seem to make fun of the concept of money. Even the attempts to break into the bunker are met with a Mission Impossible style score and out-of-breath attempts at sneaking along corridors. This is further evident in the colour palette. When you picture former GDR neighbourhoods, you probably don’t think of sun-dappled yellows, warm corals and striking turquoise. But that is exactly the palette that Brunckhorst employs. Sure, there’s the old Trabant cars and dodgy rip-offs of Western clothing, but the Halberstadt community is anything but grey and austere. It suggests a hope for the future that is yet to be realised. 

    Two to One - Zwei zu eins - Glasgow Film Festival

    At the heart of the film are two parallel stories; a national drama and a personal one. With all the flaws of the GDR laid bare, there’s a disillusionment and an anger that juxtaposes the firmly held beliefs that life won’t be better in the West. “They’ve screwed us all these years,” Robert says to Maren. “But you always knew that,” she shrugs in reply. “Yeah, but I hoped for something else,” he sighs. It’s a quick snippet of dialogue that belies the betrayal and fears of those suddenly finding themselves ‘stateless’. There’s the devastation in realising that the work you were doing ‘for the advancement of socialism’ was nothing more than cheap labour for the West. What can you do when an entire ideology is stripped away from you, becoming meaningless overnight? 

    There’s also commentary on what it means to swap one extreme for the other – does greed immediately replace the ‘greater good’? Does having endless piles of cash and stacks of electronic goods suddenly make you happy? Brunckhorst’s script would suggest not. There’s a desire to share the money and good amongst everyone in the apartment block in order to get one over on the failed regime, but there’s always personal interest and aspirations bubbling away in the background. It’s an interesting insight into real life events. 

    On the personal level, Maren is struggling with Volker’s return, because it is immediately clear that they have had a romantic past. Whilst he urges her to leave for the West – as he did; we first meet him upon his return from Hungary – she is convinced that both he and Robert can live with her in the East. It’s perhaps the weakest part of the film, not least because Robert is allegedly oblivious to their love affair. 

    Two to One - Zwei zu eins - Glasgow Film Festival

    In terms of performances, Peter Kurth gives an engaging turn as the spirit-swigging Markowski; a man who has lived through the horrors of Germany’s past and is utterly devoid of personal politics. Sandra Hüller, although undoubtedly the draw for many here, isn’t given too much to do beyond count cash and keep both the men in her life on an even keel. Max Riemelt adds cheeky humour and genuine hurt to his character; layering both personal and national tragedy on thickly. It’s a pleasing ensemble, and there’s plenty of funny on-liners to keep you engaged. 

    The pace takes a dip towards the end of the second act and into the beginning of the third. Brunckhorst seems to lose the sense of whimsy and fun that really draws you into the film in the opening 45 minutes or so. It’s made up for with a ridiculous ending that is equal parts incredible and entertaining. There’s also lovely archival footage of East German companies who survived past 1990 and facts about the real money bunker – with notes still appearing as recently as the early 2000s.Two to One is an entertaining approach to a period of history that caused personal conflict and national hardship. It’s enough of a light touch to keep you engaged whilst it deals with bigger themes and a traumatic historical backdrop.

    Two to One is up for the Audience Award at the Glasgow Film Festival. Get your tickets here.

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DCY0Z0-IseU

    Mary Munoz
    Latest posts by Mary Munoz (see all)



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  • The End – Review from Glasgow Film Festival

    The End – Review from Glasgow Film Festival


    There are certain things that Hollywood simply does not include in its renderings of a post-apocalyptic world. There’s no bright colours; no priceless works of art on the walls; no cosy clothing; no rich food; and certainly no grand pianos. And yet, in Joshua Oppenheimer’s The End, it’s all there. Oh, and it’s a musical. 

    Mother (Tilda Swinton) and Father (Michael Shannon) have managed to escape the hellfires of earth in a luxurious underground bunker. They’ve raised their Son (George Mackay) entirely underground, never allowing anyone else to seek refuge in their little sanctuary. They have a Butler (Tim McInnery), a Maid (Bronagh Kelly) and even a Doctor (Lennie James) to cater to their every need – and their egos. However, the arrival of Girl (Moses Ingram), throws their harmonious survival pact into disarray. She knows too much about what it’s like above surface level and no one in this family is willing enough to confront their past lives. 

    Writers Rasmus Heisterberg and Joshua Oppenheimer certainly know what they are doing when it comes to blending tragedy with humour. There are so many rapid exchanges of dialogue or elements of physical comedy that will have you laughing out loud, only for them to be undercut by dark truths moments later. Indeed, many of the songs in Marius De Vries and Josh Schmidt’s score are mournful ballads that reflect on life as it previously was. 

    The End Tilda Swinton George Mackay

    And the score really is something to behold, here. Although you won’t be familiar with the songs, some of the writing and musical motifs are bound to stay with you for days afterwards. Bronagh Kelly delivers a heartbreaking lullaby to her son who has passed away. It’s incredibly powerful and her vocals are well-matched to the emotion she conveys. Michael Shannon and Tim McInnery deliver a delightfully old-fashioned tap dance sequence and a gentle duet about plucking up the courage to speak to a love interest. George Mackay has a beautiful voice and an impressive range whilst Moses Ingram gives an emotional rendition of “Exhale”, a song about counting each passing second. Tilda Swinton, too, has a powerful solo called “The Mirror”, where she contemplates her relationship with her mother. 

    The performances within this eclectic cast really do deliver beyond singing capabilities. Michael Shannon is hilariously self-aggrandising as he encourages his son to write his life story – one in which he is portrayed as an altruistic oil baron. Tilda Swinton is neurotic, snobby and obsessed with keeping her bunker life ‘just so’. Bronagh Kelly’s Maid is a collection of heartbreak and guilt. Her unravelling is particularly painful to watch because she does seem like a decent, caring person. 

    The End Tilda Swinton Michael Shannon

    George Mackay steals every scene he is in. His character – having never interacted with anyone outside the bunker – is physically and verbally awkward. He’s so keen to be noticed and say his piece, even when it’s not the most emotionally intelligent thing to say. It’s a genuine, warm and engaging performance from Mackay, who has excellent on screen chemistry with Moses Ingram. Ingram’s character is so much more wary and damaged than the mollycoddled bunker dwellers, having had to survive above ground her entire life. She brings hard truths and trauma to the family – something that causes their perfectly curated life to splinter and split. 

    There are a couple of pacing dips in The End. It has a two and a half hour run time and there are particular scenes or conversations that feel like they could be shortened or cut entirely. But hey, it’s the end of the world, you’ve got the time. The End probably isn’t going to be for everyone. And that’s okay, not every film needs to be. If you enjoy musicals, this is something new for you to fall in love with. If you enjoy people-driven drama, conflict and nuance, then this will likely work for you, too. It’s almost like a curious little study of human behaviour, with each character aware of the artifice of the setting and of themselves. Definitely worth the watch if you enjoy seeing familiar genres executed with a new and different flair.

    The End had its Scottish premiere at the Glasgow Film Festival. Find out more here.

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=avvm0e4oNCE

    Mary Munoz
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  • From Hilde, With Love – Review from Glasgow Film Festival

    From Hilde, With Love – Review from Glasgow Film Festival


    German cinema has long been coming to terms with the nation’s past. Films like Downfall, Sophie Scholl: The Last Days, The Tin Drum and Das Boot, all offer a unique perspective on life in Germany during World War Two. It’s a confronting position, as a viewer, that often makes you wonder if you could ever defy the horrors that unfold onscreen. 

    One woman who did attempt to defy the Nazi regime was Hilde Coppi (Liv Lisa Fries). Along with her husband, Hans (Johannes Hegemann), she sent radio messages in Morse code to Russia, distributed anti-Nazi materials across Berlin, put up anti-Nazi posters around the city and wrote letters to mothers whose sons were named on Radio Moscow. Both she and Hans were part of a friendship group who undertook all of these activities, knowing that getting caught would mean death. Director Andreas Dresen’s film, From Hilde, With Love, is told in a non-linear structure, allowing us to get a full and compelling understanding of a woman who stood up to be counted. 

    From Hilde With Love Glasgow Film Festival

    What’s interesting about Hilde’s story is that we’re even getting to hear about it at all. So many films in the war genre focus on the derring-do of male spies or resistors. Indeed, this could have been a film about Hans. But writer Laila Stieler gives us a fascinating portrayal of Hilde, instead, both as a young woman and during her incarceration at Plötzensee. It’s not a hagiography, either, as her flaws are laid bare through Liv Lisa Fries’ formidable central performance. She is complex and full of life; a woman you can admire and pity. 

    Owing the narrative structure, the film jumps back and forth throughout Hilde’s life. When we meet her in the past, the scenes are vibrant and colourful, infused with a cosy yellow glow. There’s dances and sex and drinking. Even when the friends are plotting their next move, there’s a joyfulness about their decision to take a stand. We get to watch a beautiful love story, too, as Hans slowly becomes less wary about his “prudish” new recruit. That, too, breathes life into both characters as we get to see them in moments of desire and bliss. In contrast, Hilde’s present is full of steely greys and sterile blues; hospital creams and washed out greens. Prison life is harsh and unforgiving – not least because Hilde has just given birth to a son and the restrictive diet means she is not producing enough milk for him to survive. 

    The performances give the film the weight that it needs. Liv Lisa Fries is utterly captivating as Hilde. It is a deeply complex, emotional performance that allows us to see Hilde at her rational best and devastated worst. She isn’t just some grainy photograph in a history book, she is a living, breathing woman fighting for her life. Fries rejects the cliche of the ‘warrior woman’ and, instead, gives us a historical figure who is practical, softly-spoken and interesting. She possesses a resilience that neither her mother nor her fellow prisoners seem to emulate. It’s incredibly powerful to watch. She also does a phenomenal job with a botched birth scene that is difficult to endure as a viewer. 

    From Hilde With Love Glasgow Film Festival

    The drudgery of prison life is fully realised, here, but you cannot help but feel the palpable tension that permeates the cell doors. Hilde’s particular wing of political prisoners have yet to face their farcical trials and death is surely just a signature away. That unease is always lingering below the surface, even when Hilde is spending time with her son or nursing other prisoners. The thin blade of the guillotine feels mere inches away, at all times. When it does come, we are given a beautiful moment of Hilde enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face one last time, before Teutonic efficiency means it’s her turn to place her neck on the block. 

    From Hilde, With Love is not designed to make you cry; it’s meant to make you feel the weight of history on your shoulders. It should make you question if you could ever be so brave (and perhaps thankful that you’ve never had to be). It’s a truly fascinating portrait of one of World War Two’s most compelling figures. 

    From Hilde, With Love has its UK premiere at the Glasgow Film Festival. Get your tickets here.

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YFj7RVBRD1o

    Mary Munoz
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  • The Players – Review from Glasgow Film Festival

    The Players – Review from Glasgow Film Festival


    “You can’t just quit a show because a director made you feel weird. You’ll never get hired again,” fifteen year old Emily is warned by a fellow actor. It’s dubious and harmful advice, to say the least. But it’s typical of the kind of nonchalance that all of the adults in Emily’s life display. She is let down all of the adults around her whilst she participates in an emotionally abusive and exploitative avant-garde theatre troupe. 

    Writer / director Sarah Galea-Davis’s film The Players makes its international debut at the Glasgow Film Festival. It’s quiet, intense and brooding; it’s devoid of the histrionics you might expect of a close-knit theatre ensemble. Instead, it’s dripping with sepia toned theatre lights, unsteady close ups and unsettling dynamics. It’s an exploration of power within the theatre scene; how easy it is for “direction” to become an excuse for humiliation and taking advantage. 

    It’s summer 1994. Emily (Stefani Kimber) has found herself plucked from obscurity and cast in a seven hour version of Hamlet, where half the script has been replaced by movement pieces and interpretive dance. She is thrilled to be accepted by her much older colleagues, as life at home has not been smooth of late due to her parents’ separation. But when director Reinhardt Frank (Vikings’ Eric Johnson) starts to pay her more and more attention, Emily struggles to cope with the very adult situation she finds herself in. 

    The Players - Glasgow Film Festival 2025

    What starts off as seemingly innocent fun – a glass of booze to join the adults in a toast or a sneaked cigarette to feel grown up – quickly descends into outright manipulation. Reinhardt declares that Emily would look better with short hair and so his girlfriend, Marley (Jess Salgueiro) gets the scissors out. No one bats an eyelid, either, when he suggests setting Emily’s costume on fire. Excuse and after excuse is doled out for a pattern of predatory behaviour with young ingenues. Galea-Davis is strong in her condemnation of Reinhardt – he is a pretentious, odious man with a fragile ego – but equally of those around him. Why is no one stepping in? Why is no one calling it out? 

    Kimber and Johnson are excellent in their respective roles. Kimber brings youthful enthusiasm in abundance to Emily. Initially, she is full of adolescent awkwardness, repeatedly tucking her hair behind her ears and shy about her performance abilities. In conversation, she is earnest in her attempt to appear interesting and experienced around her grown up colleagues. She, no doubt, sees this theatre family as a replacement for her flight mother and angry father. She is vulnerable; something Reinhardt spots from the offset. 

    Johnson is stroppy and charming; passionate and dangerous. More often than not, his temper (and his ego) get the better of him. His desire to dominate clearly stems from feelings of inadequacy. There’s a particularly glorious scene where a festival director explains that he hasn’t seen his latest work, “… but my assistant said she was riveted.” Johnson’s eyes burn with humiliation and rage. He is the one who does the bruising. His ability to switch between softly spoken compliments and firmly gripped instructions is quite alarming to behold. It’s an intense performance that revels, somewhat, in its loathsomeness. 

    The Players - Glasgow Film Festival 2025

    “All directors are going to want to sleep with you … You gotta play the game,” an actress unhelpfully suggests. The Players raises a lot of questions about the theatre world. Why are all of these adults having such emotionally complex and intimate conversations with a sheltered fifteen year old girl? How can these women victim blame someone so vulnerable? Where is the sense of sisterhood and shared experience? But, of course, these questions have come up time and again since the #MeToo movement really took hold and the answers are rarely simple. Galea-Davis wants us, as viewers, to feel anger and disgust. But would we behave any differently, she seems to ask. The Players is an interesting, complex film that exposes the potential abuses within the theatre industry. It’s quietly dangerous and emotionally charged throughout. Both Stefani Kimber and Eric Johnson are magnetic leads.

    The Players is showing at Glasgow Film Festival 2025. Get your tickets here.

    Mary Munoz
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  • Review from Glasgow Film Festival

    Review from Glasgow Film Festival


    They say that life imitates art. And that is certainly the premise for writer / director Jin-hwang Kim’s second feature length film, Nocturnal, where a murder plot seems to have been lifted directly from a best-selling book. It’s a confident offering from the Korean director; a gritty neo-noir that isn’t afraid to plunge you into the heart of the action.

    Bae Min-Tae (Ha Jung-Woo) hasn’t been out of prison for all that long. His drug addict brother, Bae Seok-Tae (Park Jong-Hwan), has been found dead in a neon-lit karaoke bar. More than this, his brother’s girlfriend, Cha Moon-Young (Yoo Da-In) appears to be on the run. Could she have ordered the killing? Or has Bae Seok-Tae done something to displease local crime boss, Chang Mo (Jeong Man-Sik)? And why does his death closely resemble the novel of one of Cha Moon-Young’s former lecturers? 

    Nocturnal is definitely a film where you have to pay attention. This isn’t your regular revenge thriller or cat and mouse chase. For one thing, there are four cats. Jin-hwang Kim manages to expertly weave competing storylines together, complete with flashbacks, to keep you engrossed until the very last scenes. The large cast of characters almost feels like a bit of world-building, and the ending will certainly leave you wanting more, which is always pleasing. 

    Nocturnal - Glasgow Film Festival 2025

    One element bound to hook your attention is the violence. Even the flashback to Bae Seok-Tae’s death is visceral and unflinching. Bae Min-Tae is both ruthless and fearless. Not once does he back away from a fight – even when he is heavily outnumbered. We see him threaten two elderly shopkeepers with a large gas canister and a lighter; we see him beat a man (almost to death) with a coat stand. His weapon of choice is a pipe, and we regularly hear the crunch of metal on bone, complete with a bloodied close up. The fight choreography is impressive. As viewers, we can enjoy (or wince at) overhead tracking shots, slickly edited short, sharp cuts or 360 shots round an entire gang of Chang Mo’s goons. One particular scene, in which Bae Min-Tae clatters someone’s head off a perspex window, gives a gloriously thunderous percussive effect. 

    But it’s not all about flashy or blood-streaked visuals. The performances are excellent, here, too. Ha Jung-Woo carries the film with a steely determination that is never spoken but always evident. As he pieces together the last few days of his brother’s life, you get the sense that both siblings were trapped in an endless cycle of violence, addiction and gang life. Not one to display weakness, we get glimpses of his hurt through a lingering hand over a book; a desperate panting when the end seems in sight. It’s a very nuanced performance, albeit a physically charged one. He provides a neat contrast to Kim Nam-Gil’s Kang-Ho Ryeong, the author of the titular novel who is perpetually in neat polo necks and glasses. 

    Nocturnal - Glasgow Film Festival 2025

    The cat(s) and mouse chase at the heart of the film is what keeps the pacing tight. We follow each individual in pursuit of Cha Moon-Young (Bae Min-Tae, Chang Mo, the police and the novelist), almost trying to stay one step ahead of each of them. There are no obvious clues to track, as such, just an awareness that Kang-Ho Ryeong’s story is said to provide the outcome for this particular murder mystery. As each of them pursues their own agenda, we as viewers get to piece together the story of Bae Seok-Tae’s past and his relationship with Cha Moon-Young. Their story is both dramatic and depressing, wrapped up in the side effects of addiction and violence – a long way from the glamour of the karaoke bar or Chang Mo’s tailored suits. 

    Nocturnal is a must see for lovers of a good crime drama that’s willing to get its hands dirty. It’s got car chases, personal vendettas, crime gangs and thrilling moments of tension. The last five minutes alone are well worth the ticket price. A seriously entertaining piece of cinema.

    Nocturnal has its European Premiere at the Glasgow Film Festival. Get your tickets here.

    Mary Munoz
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  • Review from Glasgow Film Festival

    Review from Glasgow Film Festival


    Michael Premo’s documentary, Homegrown, opens with Chris building nursery furniture for the birth of his son. He’s wearing a t-shirt with 1776 in a circle of stars. A reference to the Declaration of Independence or Trump’s 1776 report, perhaps. He’s pumped up, as he talks to the camera. “If you think DC was bad … just wait,” he grins. “Just wait.” 

    People across the world remember DC. Specifically, the storming of the Capitol Building on January 6 by pro-Trump supporters who believed that the 2020 election of just three months prior was stolen from their chosen candidate. It felt like the unravelling of one of the greatest political systems in the world. It was a dark day for all sides of the voting spectrum, with crimson blood splattered and streaming down the pale marble steps of democracy. 

    Premo takes an objective stance to his documentary subjects. Chris, the father to be, is regularly called by his wife to ensure that he’s wearing a mask at all of the various rallies he attends. She’s seven months pregnant and doesn’t want him bringing Covid home. We meet Randy, an older man who is convinced that civil war is afoot. We are also introduced to Thad, a Latino ex-serviceman who espouses conservative family values. He has four children, two of whom he is trying to bring to the United States. He is perhaps the most conflicting of the trio. 

    Homegrown Documentary Glasgow Film Festival 2025

    We see pro-Trump rallies of all sizes and demographics. Men wearing camo, beers in hand, recite the Proud Boy oath which declares them Western chauvinists. They point to bumper stickers that say things like “Fuck Your Feelings” and “Even Covid Choose Trump”. Don’t Tread on Me and Thin Blue Line flags are draped over cars and fences. There are jokes about shooting and crucifying those with opposing views. 

    And all of this is captured, without hesitation, on camera. Which does rather make you wonder what might be being said behind closed doors if this is the content that is out in the open. No one seems quite able to explain what Trump has actually done to improve their lives. “I’m in love with what he’s done for the people in terms of … uh … unification,” says Thad, who also finds himself at Black Lives Matter events. 

    Chris features most prominently in the documentary, giving us a tour of his windowless man cave, stacked with AR-15s, twelve gauge AK-47s and AR-10s. He believes that “Ninety to ninety five per cent” of cop killings are justified. “Are you legal?” he shouts, boorishly, at an Asian protestor who is heckling his Trump rally. Chris’s wife is a Chinese immigrant. 

    What Premo captures perfectly is how long this feeling of unrest and chaos has been brewing within certain circles. Trump’s election defeat prompts immediate calls of interference and robbery. Online platforms quickly raise a literal call to arms. This seems like the perfect outlet for months of pent up hatred and bile. As the bitterness of defeat sinks in, the chance to “mobilise” and spread fear, seems like the only option for a taste of power. Chants of “The election isn’t over until we say it is” and “Who’s streets? Our streets?” are laced with a violence that is palpable. 

    Homegrown Documentary Glasgow Film Festival 2025

    The excitement at the thought of actually storming a government building is written all over Chris’s face. He’s packed tasers and knives under the guise of a survival kit. It is him we follow into a tight, dark corridor as pro-Trump supporters attempt to push their way past riot police. He is pepper sprayed several times, leaving his eyes weeping and his skin raw. Premo alternates between his own footage and the body cameras of the police front line. Chris is a vocal agitator, shouting obscenities in the face of those trying to protect the Capitol. “I’m gonna drag Pelosi out by her fucking toes,” he yells at the crowd, whipping groups of men into a frenzy. The disorientating camerawork amongst the violent clashes adds a claustrophobic layer to the spiralling chaos. 

    The film ends with Thad being disavowed by the Proud Boys for his involvement in the BLM movement whilst Chris receives one of the longest prison sentences attached to the riots – 12 years. His newborn son will be a teenager before he will properly meet his father. Randy, meanwhile, is seen sitting on the back of a pick up track, rounding up yet another crowd to inflict violence upon cars and passers by. The news cycle, the echo chamber, the unrest has not stopped. Will it ever, Premo seems to ask.

    Homegrown is showing at the Glasgow Film Festival 2025. Get your tickets here.

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=na6rWo4oK_A

    Mary Munoz
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  • The Return – Review from Glasgow Film Festival

    The Return – Review from Glasgow Film Festival


    There aren’t any gods or mythical creatures in Uberto Pasolini’s The Return. Perhaps, if there were, the former would be looking down at the island of Ithaca with shame and pity. The Italian director – and the man behind the likes of Still Life and Nowhere Special – gives a decidedly visceral human experience instead. 

    It has been over ten years since the Trojan war. Odysseus (Ralph Fiennes) is missing, presumed dead. The kingdom that was once his now swarms with viperous suitors, all vying for the hand – and the wealth – of its queen, Penelope (Juliette Binoche). Telemachus (Charlie Plummer) is also at risk, too, as being heir to the throne puts a target on his back. When Odysseus washes up on the shore, bloodied and bruised, will he be able to take his place as king or has his time away changed the fate of Ithaca irrevocably? 

    The Return Glasgow Film Festival

    As a film, The Return feels rather subdued. Like a classic BBC Sunday night drama in parts, it’s laden with dialogue that is supposed to feel profound (but often falls short). There’s almost a dreariness about it, as if to emphasise Odysseus’ profound state of despair. If you’re coming to this expecting daring hand-to-hand combat or mythical beings, you are going to be disappointed. Instead, this is a wordy, character driven drama. 

    And, at the heart of it all, is Ralph Fiennes. Having cast off the scarlet robes of Conclave, he’s extremely ripped and sunkissed. And he wants you to know. The camera gazes lovingly over his body, taking in every wound and scar. His eyes appear as luminous as the sea he washes up from. Fiennes takes his time with the character, portraying the mythical hero as traumatised by his experiences. He is disillusioned with the concept of war (but, boy, can he handle himself if pushed). Indeed, the film feels like an exploration of Odysseus PTSD, if such a thing were to be diagnosed in Ancient Greece. 

    He is the character with the most to do, unfortunately. An array of suitors (led by Marwan Kenzari’s Antinous) spend their days lazing around the palace, thinking of new ways to convince Penelope to marry one of their interchangeable persons or dispatch with Telemachus. Charlie Plummer doesn’t get much character development, either, other than refusing to believe that Odysseus is who he says he is before quickly accepting him. And whilst the camera, too, is in love with Juliette Binoche’s kohl–rimmed eyes by the firelight, her talents are woefully underused. We never get a sense of Penelope and Odysseus’ great love story; their chemistry is palpable but they have so little screen time together. There’s a lovely motif of Penelope unpicking her daily work at the loom – as if attempting to unspool her own fate – but that, too, is underdeveloped. In fact, she is only on screen or has dialogue in relation to the chorus of men, which stagnates and flattens any sense of who the character is. 

    The Return Glasgow Film Festival

    However, the film is beautiful to look at. Those crystal clear waters will have you longing to book a holiday. The palace is entirely lit by firelight meaning that, even during the day, it is a shadowy and untrustworthy place. The action is a bit lukewarm but the moment Ralph Fiennes gets to re-string his bow is truly magnificent to behold. His dominant, hyper masculine archer’s stance allows you to take in every sinew of his body; tensing as the fate of his kingdom relies on his prowess. (Seriously, was that body under Cardinal Lawrence’s robes?) 

    The Return has two really big names attached to it, some gorgeous scenery and one really powerful performance. But, unfortunately, that might be all it has going for it. It really does feel like a television drama that doesn’t quite translate to the big screen.

    The Return had its UK premiere at the Glasgow Film Festival and will be in UK cinemas as of April 11.

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aOQQ45ddYdk

    Mary Munoz
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