REEL
REVIEW
Reviews for Waiheke Cinema by Gemma Korff
DOWNTON ABBEY: THE GRAND FINALE
After fifteen years of elegant drama, social upheaval, and unforgettable characters, Downton Abbey: The Grand Finale delivers a richly satisfying farewell to one of television’s most beloved franchises. Directed by Simon Curtis and written by Julian Fellowes, the film is a graceful culmination of the Crawley family saga, set in the early 1930s and steeped in both nostalgia and forward momentum.
The story opens with Lady Mary, played with poise and quiet fire by Michelle Dockery, navigating the fallout of her divorce. In a society where reputation is currency, her status as a single woman becomes a scandal that threatens not only her personal standing but the dignity of the entire estate. This tension sets the tone for a film that is deeply concerned with change, legacy, and the delicate balance between tradition and progress.
The ensemble cast returns in full force, with Hugh Bonneville and Elizabeth McGovern reprising their roles as Lord and Lady Grantham. Their performances are as steady and familiar as the walls of Downton itself. Paul Giamatti makes a welcome return as Cora’s American brother Harold, bringing both levity and complication to the family’s financial affairs. Alessandro Nivola adds intrigue as Gus Sambrook, a mysterious advisor whose charm masks ulterior motives. His entanglement with Mary adds a layer of romantic tension that is both timely and reflective of the series’ long-standing interest in the personal costs of public life.
One of the film’s most delightful additions is Arty Froushan as Noël Coward. His presence injects wit and theatrical flair, echoing the sharp-tongued brilliance once delivered by Dame Maggie Smith’s Dowager Countess. Though Violet is no longer alive, her portrait looms large, and her influence is felt in nearly every scene. The film’s dedication to Smith is a touching tribute to an actress whose character defined much of Downton’s charm.
The narrative unfolds like a tapestry, weaving together multiple storylines with the finesse of a seasoned tailor. Carson, the steadfast butler played by Jim Carter, faces retirement and the challenge of handing over duties to Andy, portrayed by Michael Fox. Their dynamic reflects the broader theme of generational transition, as the estate prepares for a future shaped by new voices and evolving values.
Meanwhile, Lady Edith, played by Laura Carmichael, steps into a more assertive role, defending her sister and orchestrating a dinner party that becomes a turning point in Mary’s redemption. Her growth from overlooked sibling to strategic ally is one of the film’s most rewarding arcs.
Visually, the film is sumptuous. The costumes, set design, and cinematography evoke a world of refinement and historical detail. Scenes set in London offer a contrast to the pastoral calm of Downton, highlighting the tension between urban modernity and rural tradition. The County Fair sequence, filled with vibrant hats and subtle class commentary, adds a touch of whimsy while reinforcing the film’s social themes.
In its final moments, The Grand Finale offers a montage of memories, a cinematic reverie that honors the journey of its characters and the devotion of its audience. It is not just an ending, but a celebration of everything Downton Abbey has stood for: dignity, resilience, and the enduring power of connection across class and time.
LIFE IN ONE CHORD
Margaret Gordon’s Life in One Chord is a raw, electric portrait of Shayne Carter, one of New Zealand’s most uncompromising musical voices. More than a biography, it’s a reckoning with artistic legacy, punk rebellion, and the emotional terrain of growing up in a place that didn’t know what to do with you. From the sneering energy of Bored Games to the searing brilliance of Straitjacket Fits and the introspective pulse of Dimmer, the film traces Carter’s evolution with grit and grace.
Gordon’s direction is intimate and unflinching. She doesn’t polish Carter’s edges, she amplifies them. The archival footage is a treasure trove, not just of performances but of cultural memory. Dunedin’s damp halls and boot-boy threats become part of the emotional architecture. Carter’s return to his childhood home in Brockville is quietly devastating, a moment where nostalgia and trauma blur. Carol Hirschfeld’s narration, drawn from Carter’s memoir, adds a lyrical counterpoint to the visual grit, offering reflections that are both poetic and piercing.
The film honors the messy, nonlinear path of creativity, and in doing so, it becomes a love letter to every artist who built something out of nothing. It’s not just a documentary, it’s a chord that keeps vibrating long after the final note.
HOW TO MAKE A KILLING
Franck Dubosc’s How to Make A Killing is a gleefully twisted holiday noir that blends screwball comedy with pitch-black satire, resulting in a film that’s as chaotic as it is charming. Set in the Jura region of France, the story kicks off with a freak accident involving a bear, a car crash, and a bag containing two million euros. What follows is a five-day descent into absurdity, as Michel (played by Dubosc himself) and his wife Cathy (Laure Calamy, in top comedic form) attempt to cover up the deaths and keep the cash—all while dodging suspicion, navigating small-town gossip, and dealing with increasingly bizarre complications.
The film’s brilliance lies in its tonal tightrope walk. It’s a murder mystery wrapped in domestic farce, with echoes of Fargo and vintage French comedies. Dubosc’s direction is nimble, never letting the plot’s darkness overwhelm its buoyancy. The humor is broad but smart, often rooted in character rather than punchlines. Cathy, a true-crime enthusiast with a flair for the dramatic, becomes the unlikely mastermind of the cover-up, and Calamy plays her with delightful conviction. Her chemistry with Dubosc gives the film its emotional anchor, even as the bodies pile up and the lies spiral out of control.
Visually, the film makes excellent use of its snowy setting. The Jura landscape becomes a character in itself: beautiful, eerie, and isolating. The cinematography captures both the coziness of small-town life and the creeping dread of secrets buried beneath the surface. The supporting cast, including Benoît Poelvoorde as the overwhelmed local sheriff and Joséphine de Meaux as his sharp-eyed deputy, adds texture and comic relief.
What elevates How to Make A Killing beyond mere farce is its commentary on morality and desperation. Michel and Cathy aren’t hardened criminals, they’re ordinary people caught in extraordinary circumstances. Their choices, however misguided, are driven by fear, love, and a desire to escape mediocrity. The film never loses sight of their humanity, even as it revels in their misadventures.
In the end, this is a comedy that understands the power of timing. It’s a madcap ride that manages to be suspenseful, hilarious, and oddly touching. Dubosc and Kaminsky’s script is tight, the performances are pitch-perfect, and the result is a film that feels like a modern classic in the making.
FREAKIER FRIDAY
Freakier Friday, directed by Nisha Ganatra, is a spirited sequel that manages to recapture the magic of the original while adding fresh layers of generational humor and emotional depth. Jamie Lee Curtis and Lindsay Lohan return as Tess and Anna Coleman, now navigating the complexities of blended families, teenage angst, and yes, another supernatural body swap. But this time, the chaos expands to include Anna’s daughter Harper and her soon-to-be stepsister Lily, resulting in a four-way identity crisis that’s as hilarious as it is heartfelt.
The film’s greatest strength is its cast. Curtis is a comedic powerhouse, effortlessly embodying a teenager trapped in a grandmother’s body with impeccable timing and physicality. Lohan’s return is a welcome one. She brings warmth, wit, and a sense of maturity to Anna, now a single mom and music producer. Julia Butters and Sophia Hammons shine as the younger generation, capturing the nuances of adolescence with authenticity and charm.
The body swap sequences are delightfully chaotic, with each actor embracing the challenge of portraying another character’s mannerisms and emotional beats. Curtis, in particular, is a standout with her portrayal of Lily which is both hilarious and surprisingly tender. Butters also deserves praise for her uncanny ability to channel Lohan’s energy, grounding the film’s more outlandish moments in genuine emotion.
Thematically, Freakier Friday explores identity, family, and the messy process of growing up. It’s a film that celebrates imperfection, reminding us that understanding often comes from walking in someone else’s shoes—literally. The humor is sharp, the pacing brisk, and the emotional payoff satisfying.
In a landscape crowded with sequels and reboots, Freakier Friday stands out by honoring its roots while daring to evolve. It’s a feel-good comedy with heart, humor, and just the right amount of chaos.
THE LIFE OF CHUCK
Mike Flanagan’s The Life of Chuck is an introspective, layered exploration of mortality, memory, and the quiet beauty of existence. Adapted from Stephen King’s novella, the film unfolds in reverse chronology, beginning with the end of the world and gradually peeling back the layers of one man’s life. It’s a bold narrative choice, and Flanagan executes it with grace, inviting viewers to reflect not just on Chuck’s journey, but on their own.
Tom Hiddleston delivers a deeply human performance as Chuck, portraying him not as a grand figure but as an ordinary man whose life ripples outward in unexpected ways. His subtle expressions and gentle demeanor anchor the film’s emotional core. Chiwetel Ejiofor and Karen Gillan offer strong supporting turns, each adding texture to the story’s emotional landscape. Their interactions feel authentic, grounded in the kind of everyday moments that often go unnoticed but shape us profoundly.
The film’s structure follows three acts told in reverse, which mirrors the way we often remember those we’ve lost: starting with the final goodbye and slowly working back to the first hello. It’s a meditation on how lives are composed not of milestones, but of the spaces in between. The cinematography complements this tone beautifully, with soft lighting and warm palettes that evoke nostalgia without slipping into sentimentality.
Ultimately, The Life of Chuck is a celebration of the ordinary. It reminds us that every life, no matter how seemingly small, contains multitudes. It’s a film that lingers, not because of spectacle, but because of sincerity. In a cinematic landscape often dominated by noise, this quiet reflection feels like a gift.
MR BURTON
Mr. Burton, directed by Marc Evans, is a heartfelt tribute to mentorship, ambition, and the transformative power of belief. Rather than focusing on the glamorous years of Richard Burton’s fame, the film zeroes in on his formative relationship with Philip Burton, the teacher who saw potential in a young boy from Wales and helped shape him into one of the greatest actors of his generation.
Toby Jones is exceptional as Philip Burton, portraying him with a quiet intensity and unwavering compassion. His performance is a masterclass in subtlety, it’s never showy, always sincere. Harry Lawtey, as the young Richard (then Richie Jenkins), brings vulnerability and raw talent to the role. He doesn’t mimic the legendary Burton; instead, he captures the uncertainty and hunger of a boy on the cusp of transformation.
The film’s strength lies in its focus on process over product. We see Richie struggle with elocution, wrestle with self-doubt, and slowly grow into his voice both literally and figuratively. These scenes are deeply moving, not because they’re dramatic, but because they’re honest. The relationship between teacher and student is portrayed with nuance, showing how guidance, patience, and belief can change a life.
What makes Mr. Burton so compelling is its refusal to rush. It takes its time, allowing the audience to sit with the characters, to feel their hopes and fears. In doing so, it honors the slow, often invisible work of becoming. It’s a film that understands that greatness isn’t born, it’s nurtured.
SMURFS
Chris Miller’s Smurfs is a vibrant, joyful reimagining of the beloved franchise, blending nostalgia with fresh energy and a surprisingly thoughtful message about identity and belonging. With a star-studded voice cast led by Rihanna as Smurfette and James Corden as the endearing newcomer No Name, the film strikes a delightful balance between playful adventure and emotional resonance.
The story follows Smurfette and her friends as they embark on a quest to rescue Papa Smurf from the clutches of Razamel, Gargamel’s mischievous brother. Along the way, they traverse magical realms, encounter quirky creatures, and discover that true strength lies in community and self-acceptance. It’s a classic hero’s journey, but told with enough heart and humor to feel fresh.
Rihanna brings a grounded warmth to Smurfette, portraying her as a capable leader who balances empathy with courage. Her performance anchors the film, giving it emotional depth without sacrificing fun. James Corden’s No Name is a standout, and his journey from uncertainty to self-discovery is both humorous and touching, offering a relatable arc for viewers of all ages.
Visually, the film is a feast. The animation is crisp and colorful, with imaginative set pieces that showcase a variety of styles: from claymation-inspired sequences to pixelated dreamscapes. These creative flourishes keep the film visually engaging and underscore its theme of embracing difference.
What elevates Smurfs beyond standard family fare is its sincerity. The film doesn’t shy away from emotional beats, exploring themes of identity, purpose, and the importance of names. It suggests that who we are isn’t defined by labels, but by our actions and relationships. It’s a message delivered with charm and clarity, making the film both entertaining and meaningful.
