On this page: ALI & AVA | BULL | THE FEAST

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None of the cast members seem to be acting at all, including the two stars at the centre. Akhtar gives Ali such a kinetic blast of energy that he's instantly endearing, dancing on the roof of his car to the beat of his favourite rock and punk tunes. Rushbrook plays Ava as more of a country and folk aficionado, which makes her reactions more patient and warmly observant. They seem like an impossible couple, and yet they effortlessly seem just right together. And the people around them provide plenty of texture.

Some of the subplots and side roles feel a little underserved, appearing and vanishing suddenly. This of course adds to the realism, even if some characters aren't around enough to make an impact. But the cumulative effect offers a remarkable depiction of a multicultural community of people who are strikingly different yet need each other to make sense of whatever life throws at them. And without overstating it, this idea provokes the audience to look inside.

themes, language

13.Oct.21 lff

Aside from the innocent Aiden in flashbacks, nobody on-screen is remotely engaging, as they're all capable of astonishing savagery. Almost all of the dialog is blunt-edged and often downright abusive. Maskell has plenty of charisma in the central role, but his viciousness is impossible to excuse, even as it begins to become clearer why he's so determined in his task. Each of the men and women Bull confronts is tough as nails, played with rough attitude by a strong supporting cast.

There's very little lightness in this movie, as emotions are always circling around death and even a trip to a funfair plays like a horror movie. Through all of this, Bull comes across as a ghost from the past on a murderous rampage, evening up the score in the most painful ways possible. Even so, the film is compelling to watch, simply because it generates curiosity about where it's going, and what it has to say about the legacy a violence-obsessed family leaves behind.

themes, language, violence

16.Oct.21 lff

Performances expertly capture these distinct people. At the centre the magnetic Elway stares everyone down while indulging in some deeply freaky behaviour that no one seems to notice. And Roberts' Glenda is a bundle of nerves, hovering around Cadi with jittery tension. As the junkie and predator brothers, Cennydd and Davies are fascinating, respectively wounded and sinister, both a draining disappointment to Jones' superbly inflated self-important father. The balance within this family is delicate and rather terrifying.

Indeed, the whole movie is unsettling. It ultimately also becomes outrageously gruesome, as blood flows first in a drop then in great waves. Since it plays out as an allegory, there isn't much emotional investment on the audience's part: we don't really care what happens to these privileged people who greedily consume whatever they want. But the deeper ideas in here, and the larger point the story is making, have a terrific force to them. If it's not the kind of movie that makes us think, it definitely stirs our rage.

themes, language, violence, sexuality

1.Oct.21 lff