Ida is a gorgeous and humble tale of stiff upper lips and scars that refuse to heal, where every frame is imbued with melancholic beauty and a quiet grace.
Its Southern fried tale of brutal violence and crippling rage may be somewhat familiar, but Joe remains a quality piece of cinema and a timely shot in the arm for Nicolas Cage's semi-wilting career.
What's in a name? When it comes to X-Men: Days of Future Past, not very much - it's a semi-confusing, semi-comprehensible, semi-relevant title that should've been panned while the screenplay was still being drafted. It's testament to the rest of the film, then, that the latest X-Men's abominable title is the only significant criticism I can level at it - any remaining issues were long ago swept away in a wave of breakneck plotting and and glorious, marvelous blockbuster excess. After a week where I had to sit through the horrific Angriest Man in Brooklyn and was near wholly disappointed by Gareth Edwards' Godzilla, Days of Future Past proved to be the most pleasant of surprises.
I've seen very few films that I actively despise. In fact, it's limited to maybe one or two a year. I was hoping for a clean 2014, but The Angriest Man in Brooklyn has gone ahead and sullied it. It takes a pretty damn awful kind of movie for me to summon this level of vitriol, but this one's got it all. I feel ill, a little bit dirty and a good deal dumber having sat through it. I had to - it's my job - but you don't, so save yourself some trauma and go see Blue Ruin again - or just stick your head in the oven for an hour and a half, Lord knows that's better than the alternative.
Don Draper is a freaking badass - a man among men, never short of a smart quip or a crippling matriarchal complex. With the seventh and final season of Mad Men in full and retrotastic swing, it's high time we all took a few leaves out of the leather bound, well-dressed, scotch swilling notebook of Don Draper.