Little White Lies was established in 2005 as a bi-monthly print magazine committed to championing great movies and the talented people who make them. Combining cutting-edge design, illustration and journalism, we’ve been described as being “at the vanguard of the independent publishing movement.” Our reviews feature a unique tripartite ranking system that captures the different aspects of the movie-going experience. We believe in Truth & Movies.
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.
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.
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.
Editor at Moviescramble. European cinema, grisly thrillers and show stopping musicals are my bag. Classic Hollywood Cinema is comfort food. Spare time is heavily dependent on a lot of pizza and power ballads.
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.
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.
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
Editor at Moviescramble. European cinema, grisly thrillers and show stopping musicals are my bag. Classic Hollywood Cinema is comfort food. Spare time is heavily dependent on a lot of pizza and power ballads.
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?
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.
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
Editor at Moviescramble. European cinema, grisly thrillers and show stopping musicals are my bag. Classic Hollywood Cinema is comfort food. Spare time is heavily dependent on a lot of pizza and power ballads.
Little White Lies was established in 2005 as a bi-monthly print magazine committed to championing great movies and the talented people who make them. Combining cutting-edge design, illustration and journalism, we’ve been described as being “at the vanguard of the independent publishing movement.” Our reviews feature a unique tripartite ranking system that captures the different aspects of the movie-going experience. We believe in Truth & Movies.
Little White Lies was established in 2005 as a bi-monthly print magazine committed to championing great movies and the talented people who make them. Combining cutting-edge design, illustration and journalism, we’ve been described as being “at the vanguard of the independent publishing movement.” Our reviews feature a unique tripartite ranking system that captures the different aspects of the movie-going experience. We believe in Truth & Movies.
Little White Lies was established in 2005 as a bi-monthly print magazine committed to championing great movies and the talented people who make them. Combining cutting-edge design, illustration and journalism, we’ve been described as being “at the vanguard of the independent publishing movement.” Our reviews feature a unique tripartite ranking system that captures the different aspects of the movie-going experience. We believe in Truth & Movies.
