DRAGONKEEPER (2024)

The fate of ancient China rests on the shoulders of one young girl, who must find the last remaining dragon egg and fulfill her destiny.

Dragonkeeper is an ambitious animated feature directed by Jianping Li and Salvador Simó, adapted from Carole Wilkinson’s beloved 2003 novel. As a Spanish-Chinese co-production, the film seeks to blend cultural richness with the universal themes of courage, hope, and the eternal struggle between good and evil. While the movie offers some stunning visuals and a story with plenty of potential, certain elements, particularly the voice acting and narrative structure, hold it back from truly soaring.

Set in ancient China, Dragonkeeper follows Ping, a brave young servant girl who discovers she has a vital role in protecting the last dragons from extinction. Her journey is fraught with danger as she faces off against ruthless dragon hunters, imperial soldiers, and her own doubts. The film does a good job of highlighting the clear conflict between good and evil, which serves as a reliable backbone for the narrative.

While the themes of darkness and light are compelling and well-intentioned, the film sometimes leans too heavily into its darker moments. Scenes of dragon mutilation and peril might be too intense for younger children, making it better suited for older audiences. At the same time, the overarching message of hope and resilience shines through, ensuring that the film isn’t entirely bleak.

One of Dragonkeeper's greatest strengths is its visual design. The landscapes, inspired by Himalayan and Chinese settings, are beautifully rendered. The architecture and natural scenery are detailed and immersive, providing a rich backdrop for the story. The dragons, in particular, are animated with care, their movements and reptilian features feeling authentic and grounded.

However, while the environments and background visuals are impressive, the character designs are relatively simple and lack the same level of detail. This simplicity sometimes diminishes the emotional depth that the story is aiming for. Additionally, the film’s darker tone is reflected in its colour palette, which occasionally makes scenes appear murky and hard to follow. A touch more vibrancy or strategic lighting could have helped balance the visuals and kept viewers more engaged.

Unfortunately, the voice acting is one of the film’s weaker points. Despite featuring well-known talent like Bill Nighy, the performances come across as flat and lacking in personality. Dialogue that should be brimming with emotion often falls short, leaving key moments feeling underwhelming. The decision to dub the film into English with British accents might help broaden its audience, but it sacrifices some of the authenticity and nuance that a Mandarin version with subtitles could have delivered.

Character development, especially the relationship between Ping and the dragon, also feels somewhat rushed. Ping’s transformation from a passive observer to an active hero is essential to the story, yet it doesn’t unfold as organically as it could. Their bond, which is meant to be the heart of the film, lacks the depth and gradual growth that would make their connection truly moving. The script’s tendency to skip over key developmental moments leaves gaps that make the narrative feel disjointed.

The film’s structure is another area that could benefit from refinement. The first act, while dramatic, can be confusing due to unclear introductions and sudden time jumps. The second act feels somewhat absent, causing a noticeable gap in the story’s progression. This leaves the third act with the burden of resolving plot points that haven’t been fully established. The lack of humour or lighter moments to balance the drama also makes parts of the film feel monotonous.

However, the action sequences are well-executed and keep the plot moving forward. These scenes provide the necessary energy to maintain interest, even if the surrounding narrative falters.

Despite its flaws, Dragonkeeper remains a film with significant potential. Its gorgeous visual design and earnest storytelling suggest that the studios involved have a bright future ahead. With improvements in voice acting, clearer character development, and a more cohesive narrative, their next project could truly shine.

For audiences who appreciate animated films with darker themes and stunning visuals, Dragonkeeper offers an engaging, if imperfect, adventure. While it might not fully achieve the heights it aims for, it’s a commendable effort and a reminder that even in dark moments, there is always hope.

Dragonkeeper will be released in NZ cinemas from January 16, 2024

SONIC THE HEDGEHOG 3 (2024)

Sonic, Knuckles and Tails reunite to battle Shadow, a mysterious new enemy with powers unlike anything they've faced before. With their abilities outmatched in every way, they seek out an unlikely alliance to stop Shadow and protect the planet. 

Sonic the Hedgehog 3, directed by Jeff Fowler and written by Pat Casey, Josh Miller, and John Whittington, is an electrifying conclusion to the beloved trilogy. With standout performances from Jim Carrey and Keanu Reeves, this film raises the stakes, delivering high-octane action and surprising emotional depth. It's a thrilling ride that, while relentless in its pacing, solidifies its place as the best instalment in the franchise.

The story wastes no time, throwing viewers straight into the action as the new threat, Shadow the Hedgehog, emerges. From the opening scenes, the film grabs your attention with its fast-paced energy and never lets go. While the non-stop momentum can feel overwhelming at first, the narrative gradually finds its footing, weaving together a coherent and engaging storyline. The frenetic pacing is a double-edged sword—it ensures there’s never a dull moment, but at times, it doesn’t allow the emotional beats to land with the full weight they deserve.

Keanu Reeves as Shadow the Hedgehog is a revelation. Shadow’s tragic backstory, rooted in loss and vengeance, is handled with surprising sensitivity, providing the film with a solid emotional core. Reeves brings a soulful complexity to the character, capturing Shadow’s pain and reclusiveness with precision. His portrayal goes beyond the action, offering a layered and heartfelt performance that elevates the film. Shadow’s brooding intensity and moral ambiguity add a new dimension to the story, making him one of the most compelling additions to the franchise.

Shadow’s conflicts with Sonic and the rest of Team Sonic are thrilling to watch. While many of these clashes stem from misunderstandings that could be resolved with dialogue, they serve as the perfect backdrop for explosive action sequences. These moments, reminiscent of Dragon Ball Z’s climactic battles, are a visual treat, showcasing the film’s exceptional animation and choreography.

On the opposite end of the emotional spectrum is Jim Carrey, returning as the eccentric Dr. Robotnik. Where Shadow embodies loss and vengeance, Robotnik is pure chaotic joy. Carrey’s performance is a masterclass in physical comedy and over-the-top antics. His portrayal of Robotnik, brimming with childlike enthusiasm and manic energy, provides much-needed levity to the darker narrative. It’s a testament to Carrey’s talent that he can deliver comedy without undercutting the story’s emotional depth, and he does twice the work!

Robotnik’s journey in this film is as entertaining as ever. Overcoming his losses from the previous films, his storyline returns him to his larger-than-life personality,  both hilarious and formidable. Carrey’s ability to balance menace with mirth makes Robotnik an unforgettable character and a cornerstone of the trilogy’s success. All with the assistance of his ever-doting Agent Stone, another solid performance and the focal point of a very enjoyable subplot.

Despite its relentless pacing, Sonic the Hedgehog 3 doesn’t shy away from emotional storytelling. Shadow’s origin story, rooted in tragedy, is handled with care, giving the character—and the film—genuine emotional heft. These moments, though brief, are impactful, showcasing the film’s ability to balance action with heart. The contrast between Shadow’s sorrow and Robotnik’s joy creates a dynamic emotional landscape that keeps the audience invested.

The film also explores themes of friendship, loyalty, and redemption, particularly through Sonic’s interactions with Shadow. Ben Schwartz’s Sonic remains as charming and witty as ever, serving as the sometimes irrational and impulsive leader of "Team Sonic". His chemistry with Colleen O'Shaughnessey’s Tails and Idris Elba’s Knuckles continues to shine, although the growing cast of characters occasionally struggles to find enough to do.

One of the film’s greatest strengths is its faithfulness to the source material. By minimizing the presence of human characters outside of Robotnik, the story feels more in line with the Sonic games. This creative decision allows the film to fully embrace its video game roots, immersing the audience in a world where anthropomorphic heroes and villains take centre stage. For fans of the franchise, this authenticity is a welcome treat.

Director Jeff Fowler, who worked on the 2005 video game Shadow the Hedgehog, brings a deep understanding of the character and the franchise to this film. His direction ensures that Shadow’s introduction is not only faithful to the games but also compelling for newcomers. Fowler’s experience and passion are evident in every frame, making this a fitting conclusion to the trilogy.

While Sonic the Hedgehog 3 is undeniably entertaining, its breakneck pacing comes at a cost. The constant race from one action sequence to the next leaves little room for reflection, and some emotional moments feel rushed as a result. The film’s ambition to include multiple storylines and characters occasionally stretches its runtime thin, but these shortcomings are minor in the grand scheme of things.

The film builds to an epic climax that is both visually stunning and emotionally satisfying. The final showdown, brimming with high-stakes action and emotional payoffs, leaves a lasting impression. It’s a fitting conclusion to a trilogy that has grown in scope and ambition with each instalment.

Sonic the Hedgehog 3 is a triumph of action, emotion, and character-driven storytelling. Keanu Reeves’ moving performance as Shadow and Jim Carrey’s comedic brilliance as Robotnik are the heart of the film, elevating it above its predecessors. While the relentless action occasionally undercuts its emotional impact, the film’s energy and enthusiasm are infectious.

This third chapter cements Sonic the Hedgehog as one of the best video game adaptations in recent memory. For fans of the franchise, it’s a must-watch. For newcomers, it’s an exhilarating addition to the world of Sonic. With its blend of thrilling action, heartfelt moments, and unforgettable performances, Sonic the Hedgehog 3 races past expectations and into cinematic greatness.

Sonic the Hedgehog 3 will be released in NZ Cinemas on Boxing Day, December 26, 2024

SING SING (2023)

Based on a remarkable true story. Academy Award® nominee Colman Domingo stars as Divine G, imprisoned at Sing Sing for a crime he didn't commit, who finds purpose by acting in a theatre group with other incarcerated men. When a wary outsider joins the group, the men decide to stage their first original comedy, in this stirring true story of resilience, humanity, and the transformative power of art, starring an unforgettable ensemble cast of formerly incarcerated actors.

Greg Kwedar’s Sing Sing is an emotionally resonant drama that examines the profound impact of creativity and connection within the confines of a maximum-security prison. Inspired by real-life events and the Rehabilitation Through the Arts (RTA) program, the film masterfully balances the heavy realities of incarceration with an undercurrent of hope. Its core message is simple yet deeply moving: art has the power to transform even the most challenging circumstances, offering humanity and redemption to those who have long been denied it.

The film is based on John H. Richardson’s 2005 Esquire article The Sing-Sing Follies, with Kwedar and co-writer Clint Bentley adapting the script to include real-life details contributed by the cast, many of whom are former inmates who participated in the RTA program. This authenticity runs through every frame, grounding the film’s narrative in lived experience.

At the heart of Sing Sing is the story of Divine G (played with stunning depth by Colman Domingo), a sensitive and empathetic inmate wrongfully convicted of murder. Divine G is the driving force behind the prison’s theatre group, embodying the transformative power of artistic expression. His journey intersects with Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin, a newcomer to the program and a former armed robber playing a version of himself. Maclin is initially resistant, embodying traits of toxic masculinity and mistrust, but his evolution is as captivating as it is poignant.

Colman Domingo delivers another standout performance, cementing his reputation as one of the most versatile and fearless actors of his generation. His portrayal of Divine G is layered and powerful, capturing the character’s inner turmoil, resilience, and humanity. Equally compelling is Clarence Maclin, whose raw and authentic depiction of his own journey brings unparalleled authenticity to the film.

The supporting cast, a mix of professional actors like Paul Raci and former inmates, enhances the story’s emotional weight. Kwedar ensures every character, no matter their screen time, has a moment to shine, contributing to the film’s collective impact. This ensemble approach emphasizes the themes of camaraderie and shared humanity that permeate the narrative.

While Sing Sing delves into the harsh realities of prison life — the dehumanizing conditions, systemic injustice, and isolation — it doesn’t linger on these elements to define its story. Instead, the film focuses on the moments of joy, connection, and self-discovery found through the creative process.

The juxtaposition of humor and poignancy is skillfully handled. The group’s rehearsals for a fantastical time-travel comedy provide levity, but also serve as a mirror for their personal journeys. These scenes, often infused with warmth and laughter, highlight the therapeutic and transformative power of storytelling. The play’s absurdity contrasts beautifully with the gravity of their lives, offering a temporary escape and a profound form of healing.

Unlike traditional prison dramas that rely on redemption arcs steeped in sentimentality, Sing Sing takes a more nuanced approach. The characters do not seek redemption in the eyes of society or the justice system, but within themselves. The theatre program becomes a space for vulnerability and self-expression, allowing the men to reclaim their individuality and redefine their identities.

The relationship between Divine G and Divine Eye serves as the film’s emotional anchor. Their bond evolves from rivalry to deep friendship, reflecting the broader theme of breaking free from the roles imposed by both society and the prison system. Divine Eye’s slow thaw — his journey from a hardened survivor to someone who embraces trust and vulnerability — is one of the film’s most compelling arcs.

Kwedar’s direction, coupled with Pat Scola’s cinematography, immerses viewers in the world of Sing Sing prison. The hand-held camera work adds a documentary-like intimacy, while the juxtaposition of close-ups and sweeping shots of the prison grounds conveys both the claustrophobia of confinement and the yearning for freedom.

The environment is depicted with subtlety and restraint. Small, poignant moments — a routine cell search, a siren interrupting a peaceful moment, or inmates gazing at the Hudson River beyond the prison walls — speak volumes about the psychological toll of incarceration. These visuals, paired with the evocative score, heighten the emotional resonance of the story.

At its core, Sing Sing is a celebration of art’s power to transcend circumstances. It doesn’t shy away from the systemic failures of the prison system, but it also doesn’t let them overshadow the human spirit. The film invites viewers to witness the transformative effect of creativity, emphasizing that even in the bleakest environments, art can foster connection, resilience, and hope.

This universality makes Sing Sing profoundly relatable. While its setting is specific, its themes resonate far beyond the prison walls. It’s a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and a call to acknowledge the humanity of those that society often overlooks. Sing Sing is a remarkable achievement — a film that combines emotional heft with moments of levity, and authenticity with artistry. Greg Kwedar’s direction, paired with an exceptional cast led by Colman Domingo, creates an unforgettable cinematic experience.

The film leaves audiences not with despair, but with hope. It challenges preconceived notions about incarceration and highlights the potential for redemption through self-expression and connection. Sing Sing is not just a story about inmates finding their humanity; it’s a story about humanity itself — raw, complex, and ultimately, unbreakable. This is a must-see film that lingers long after the credits roll, offering both a profound emotional journey and a renewed faith in the transformative power of art.

Sing Sing will be released in NZ cinemas from January 16, 2025

Runtime: 105 minutes
Classification: TBC

MEMOIR OF A SNAIL (2024)

A bittersweet memoir of a melancholic woman called Grace Pudel - a hoarder of snails, romance novels, and guinea pigs.

Memoir of a Snail is not your typical animated feature. This dark, deeply melancholic claymation film by Adam Elliot defies the genre's conventions, offering an emotional experience that is raw, unsettling, and profoundly human. It is a story that delves into the depths of despair yet manages to glimmer with the faint light of hope, revealing that even in the bleakest of circumstances, kindness and resilience can endure.

Crafted over eight painstaking years in Melbourne, the film is a testament to Elliot’s dedication and vision. Every prop, character, and set was meticulously hand-sculpted, creating a tangible, textured world that eschews the digital perfection of CGI. The result is a film that feels visceral and alive, with its earthy colour palette of browns and deep reds drawing viewers into Grace’s world of perpetual gloom.

At its heart, Memoir of a Snail is a narrative of immense suffering. Grace, the protagonist, recounts her life’s story to Sylvia, a snail who has been her silent companion for much of her journey. From birth defects and bullying to addiction and abandonment, Grace’s tale is a relentless cascade of tragedy. Yet, Elliot avoids turning her into a caricature of misery. Instead, Grace’s struggles feel painfully authentic, her small joys and moments of connection rendered all the more poignant against the backdrop of her sorrow.

The film’s symbolism is both rich and resonant. Grace’s love for snails, reflected in the antenna-adorned hat she wears throughout the film, serves as a metaphor for her burdens. Like a snail carrying its shell, Grace bears the weight of her emotional and physical traumas, unable to shed them but always inching forward. This idea of forward movement, despite the crushing load of the past, forms the emotional core of the film.

Elliot’s writing balances this heaviness with unexpected moments of humour and humanity. Grace’s eccentricities—her hoarding of snail-themed trinkets, her oddball interactions with others—lend a touch of whimsy to an otherwise grim story. The characters around her, no matter how briefly they appear, are vividly drawn, brimming with quirks that make them memorable.

Yet, this is not a film that shies away from its mature themes. Memoir of a Snail delves into alcoholism, grief, homophobia, and even suicide with unflinching honesty. Its R rating is well-deserved, not only for its thematic content but also for its surprising depictions of nudity and sexuality. These elements, while jarring, feel essential to the film’s authenticity, painting a raw and unvarnished portrait of human frailty.

The animation itself is a triumph. The handcrafted stop-motion, with its meticulous attention to detail, brings a tactile quality to the film that is rarely seen in modern animation. Every frame is infused with care, and the characters’ expressive faces convey a depth of emotion that words often cannot. It is this artistry that elevates the film, allowing it to navigate its heavy subject matter without feeling overly oppressive.

What sets Memoir of a Snail apart is its ability to find beauty in despair. While Grace’s life is a litany of losses and betrayals, the film never succumbs entirely to hopelessness. Acts of kindness, such as the letters from her brother or the support of an elderly neighbour, Pinky, serve as lifelines, reminding viewers of the power of connection.

The film’s resolution, while somewhat sentimental, offers a sense of closure that feels earned. Grace’s journey is not one of dramatic transformation but of quiet endurance. Her ability to keep moving forward, like the snails she admires, becomes a testament to resilience.

Despite its many strengths, Memoir of a Snail is not without flaws. The sheer weight of its tragedies can feel overwhelming, and some viewers may find the onslaught of misfortune excessive. There is also a sense that certain themes, such as the metaphor of the snail’s shell, could have been explored more deeply. Yet, these shortcomings are overshadowed by the film’s emotional resonance and visual brilliance.

For viewers seeking a conventional animated film, this is not the one to watch. But for those willing to embrace its sombre tone and intricate craftsmanship, Memoir of a Snail offers a profoundly moving experience. It is a reminder that even in the darkest corners of life, there is beauty to be found and that hope, however fragile, can persist.

Adam Elliot’s “clayographical” approach—blending autobiographical elements with handcrafted artistry—results in a film that is both intimate and universal. Memoir of a Snail is not merely a story of suffering but of the enduring strength of the human spirit. It is a film that lingers in the mind, its somber beauty and flickers of light refusing to fade.

Memoir of a Snail was released in NZ cinemas on November 7, 2024

GLADIATOR II (2024)

After his home is conquered by the tyrannical emperors who now lead Rome, Lucius is forced to enter the Colosseum and must look to his past to find strength to return the glory of Rome to its people.

Ridley Scott’s much-anticipated return to the Roman Empire with Gladiator II arrives with an all-star cast, stunning visuals, and epic battles. However, it struggles to step out of the shadow of its iconic predecessor, delivering a visually spectacular but emotionally shallow experience. While it boasts moments of intense excitement, particularly in its immersive battle scenes, the film leans too heavily on echoes of the original, falling short of the narrative depth and character complexity that made Gladiator a classic.

Set 16 years after the death of Marcus Aurelius, Gladiator II follows Hanno (Paul Mescal), a former soldier-turned-slave seeking vengeance for the murder of his wife, Arishat. The story unfolds under the rule of the corrupt twin emperors Geta (Joseph Quinn) and Caracalla (Fred Hechinger), whose grotesque presence and eerie fascination with monkeys teeter on the edge of absurdity. Their venereal disease-ravaged appearance might have been intended as a metaphor for the decay of Rome, but it comes across as more comical than menacing.

Pedro Pascal’s Acacius, a conflicted general returning home with new gladiator slaves, and Denzel Washington’s Macrinus, a former slave turned power-hungry gladiator mentor, add layers of intrigue. Yet despite the potential for compelling subplots, the script struggles to weave them into a cohesive and impactful narrative. Instead, Gladiator II feels like a loose remake, recycling key beats from the original: a betrayal, the fall of a noble hero into slavery, and a climactic showdown in the arena. These parallels invite comparisons that highlight the sequel’s lack of originality.

Paul Mescal as Hanno is an adequate but underwhelming lead. Physically, he fits the role, but his performance lacks the emotional intensity and gravitas needed to carry the film. His anger feels one-dimensional, and his delivery of pivotal lines falls flat. Unlike Russell Crowe’s Maximus, who captivated audiences with quiet conviction and explosive fury, Mescal struggles to make Hanno’s journey resonate.

Denzel Washington, on the other hand, delivers a masterful performance as Macrinus, effortlessly stealing every scene he’s in. His character, a charming yet treacherous mentor, provides much-needed dynamism, adding depth and charisma to an otherwise straightforward revenge plot. Pedro Pascal’s Acacius brings conflicted gravitas, but his role is underdeveloped, leaving a sense of missed potential. Both actors shine in their limited screen time, but their characters deserve more exploration to elevate the story.

Where Gladiator II excels is in its battle sequences. Ridley Scott’s expertise in staging grandiose, visceral action is on full display. The gladiatorial fights are bloody, thrilling, and masterfully choreographed, immersing viewers in the brutal spectacle of ancient Rome. From the clang of swords to the roar of the crowd, these scenes capture the raw intensity that fans of the original will appreciate.

However, the film stumbles with its overreliance on CGI. While improved cinematography sharpens the visuals, the computer-generated effects detract from the authenticity that defined Gladiator. The introduction of monkeys in the arena and a rhino ridden like a rodeo bull stretches believability. The climax, featuring sharks in a flooded Colosseum, borders on the absurd, drawing giggles instead of gasps. These exaggerated sequences may aim for heightened spectacle but ultimately undermine the film’s credibility.

Despite its rousing spectacle, Gladiator II lacks the emotional weight of its predecessor. The first film grounded its epic battles with moments of quiet reflection and personal loss, creating a poignant connection between the audience and Maximus. In contrast, Hanno’s journey feels hollow, with little depth given to his motivations or relationships.

The screenplay struggles to balance its sprawling narrative, leaving promising storylines underdeveloped. Macrinus’ ambition, Acacius’ internal conflict, and the twin emperors’ political machinations are all intriguing threads that fail to fully materialize. The result is a film that entertains in the moment but lacks lasting impact.

Ridley Scott remains a master of visual storytelling, and Gladiator II showcases his ability to create immersive worlds. The production design is meticulous, bringing ancient Rome to life with grandeur and detail. From the dusty arenas to the opulent palaces, every frame is a visual feast. The score, while evocative, occasionally leans too heavily on motifs from the original, further reinforcing the sequel’s derivative nature.

Scott’s thematic exploration of power, greed, and human cruelty remains compelling. Yet, the emotional shallowness of the film undercuts its potential to deliver the same philosophical resonance as its predecessor. The heightened spectacle draws attention to the film’s inability to capture the visceral fear and humanity that made Gladiator unforgettable.

Gladiator II is a film of contrasts—spectacular yet shallow, thrilling yet forgettable. It offers enough craftsmanship and action to satisfy fans of epic cinema, but it never escapes the long shadow of its predecessor. The recycled narrative beats, underdeveloped characters, and reliance on exaggerated CGI prevent it from reaching the heights of Gladiator. While Denzel Washington and Pedro Pascal bring charisma and complexity, their roles needed more depth to elevate the story. Paul Mescal, burdened by a lacklustre script, delivers a performance that pales in comparison to Russell Crowe’s iconic turn as Maximus.

For those unfamiliar with the original, Gladiator II may provide a rousing spectacle. But for fans of Ridley Scott’s 2000 masterpiece, it’s a reminder of the power of storytelling—a lesson this sequel struggles to fully embrace.

Gladiator II was released in NZ cinemas on November 14, 2024

SOLO LEVELING -REAWAKENING-! (2024)

Solo Leveling -ReAwakening- features a catch-up recap of the first season coupled with an exclusive sneak peek of the first two episodes of the highly anticipated second season in one momentous theatrical fan experience.

Solo Leveling -ReAwakening- serves as a condensed retelling of the first season of the anime Solo Leveling, complemented by a sneak peek at two episodes from the upcoming Season 2. Directed by Shunsuke Nakashige, this film compresses a vast and engaging narrative into a 120-minute format. While it offers a visually appealing experience with some exciting action sequences, the brisk pace and heavy condensation may leave both new viewers and long-time fans wanting more.

For those unfamiliar with the Solo Leveling universe, the film introduces the story of Sung Jinwoo, once dubbed the weakest hunter in a world ravaged by dangerous "gates" that open portals to other dimensions. These gates unleash terrifying monsters, and hunters—humans with extraordinary abilities—are the only defence against them. Jinwoo’s journey from an underwhelming hunter to the most powerful in the world is the core of the narrative. His transformation is sparked by a mysterious "system" that grants him the unique ability to level up—a power no other hunter possesses. This ability sets him on a path to unlock greater strengths, face terrifying monsters, and uncover the deeper mysteries of the world around him.

©Solo Leveling Animation Partners

The film’s format—condensing twelve 25-minute episodes into just under an hour and a half—is undoubtedly ambitious, and the result is a story that feels accelerated, sometimes to its detriment. The film focuses primarily on the action, with the quick pacing glossing over critical backstory and character development that made the first season of the anime so captivating. As a result, newcomers to the series may find themselves struggling to fully grasp the motivations of the characters or the significance of the world-building. While Solo Leveling’s premise is engaging, the lack of thorough explanation leaves key elements feeling rushed and underdeveloped.

For existing fans, Solo Leveling -ReAwakening- functions as a nostalgic refresher, rekindling the excitement of the first season with the added bonus of glimpsing the future events of Season 2. It serves as a bridge between the two seasons, reconnecting viewers with Jinwoo’s journey and hinting at the new challenges he will face. The two new episodes from Season 2 are a treat, offering tantalizing hints at what’s to come, though they also highlight just how much more the series has to offer than what is provided here.

The film’s world-building is one of its strongest aspects, particularly the depiction of the Hunter culture and the economic implications of dungeoning. The world Jinwoo inhabits is one where hunters risk their lives not only for personal glory but also to support their families. Jinwoo’s concern for his mother and sister adds an emotional layer to his character, distinguishing him from other anime protagonists who are typically driven solely by personal growth or revenge. This focus on the economic reality of being a hunter is a refreshing departure from the typical "hero’s journey" formula, adding a grounded dimension to the story.

©Solo Leveling Animation Partners

The pacing, however, presents a challenge. While the animation by A-1 Pictures and motion graphics by Production I.G. remain visually stunning, especially during action sequences, the swift narrative progression leaves little room for the story’s depth to unfold naturally. The film’s accelerated pace makes it difficult to settle into the story, especially for those new to the series who are unfamiliar with the lore and character dynamics. This makes it harder to fully immerse oneself in the world of Solo Leveling, as it feels more like a fast-paced highlight reel rather than a cohesive narrative experience.

In terms of character development, the film touches on Jinwoo’s transformation but doesn’t delve deeply into the nuances of his growth. His initial weakness is a compelling starting point, but the rapid progression of his powers means that viewers don’t get the time to see the gradual buildup of his abilities and the internal struggles that come with them. The changes to his personality as he levels up are evident, but the emotional weight of these changes is lost in the rush to keep up with the plot.

One of the more fascinating elements of Solo Leveling is the integration of RPG mechanics into the story. The game-like elements, such as the quest windows and levelling system, are seamlessly woven into Jinwoo’s daily life. This constant reminder of the game's influence on his existence enhances the sense of immersion and adds an extra layer of tension, as viewers are reminded that Jinwoo’s journey is not just about combat but also about his progression within a system he doesn’t fully understand. This concept is an interesting commentary on the way in which humans can become so deeply involved in systems that dictate their lives, often without questioning the broader consequences.

©Solo Leveling Animation Partners

The action sequences are one of the highlights of the film, with Jinwoo’s increasing strength translating into increasingly impressive feats of combat. The animation quality improves as Jinwoo levels up, creating a sense of progression not only in his powers but also in the technical aspects of the animation. The increase in speed and intensity of the action sequences is particularly striking, making the fight scenes a visual spectacle. This approach to animation helps convey the sense of Jinwoo’s growth in a way that feels both satisfying and engaging.

However, despite these strengths, Solo Leveling -ReAwakening- struggles to fully capture the essence of the series due to its condensed format. The editing leaves many moments feeling disjointed, with entire sections of the story feeling rushed or unexplained. For viewers who have not watched the first season, this film may not serve as the ideal introduction to the series. The lack of exposition and context leaves the world of Solo Leveling feeling shallow and underdeveloped, making it difficult for newcomers to get invested in the stakes of the story.

For fans already familiar with Jinwoo’s journey, Solo Leveling -ReAwakening- offers a thrilling recap of the key moments of the first season while setting up anticipation for the upcoming second season. The two new episodes from Season 2 provide a tantalizing preview of what’s to come, but they also emphasize how much more the story has to offer beyond the confines of this condensed movie format.

©Solo Leveling Animation Partners

Solo Leveling -ReAwakening- is an exciting but ultimately overly-compacted adaptation of the beloved anime series. Its fast-paced nature and condensed storytelling make it a challenging watch for newcomers, while its appeal to long-time fans lies more in its nostalgic value and its ability to whet the appetite for what’s to come in Season 2. While it doesn’t offer the depth or nuance of the full first season, it does enough to make viewers want to explore the world of Solo Leveling further—whether by catching up with Season 1 or eagerly awaiting the next chapter in the saga.

Crunchyroll and  Sony Pictures Entertainment will release Solo Leveling -ReAwakening- in cinemas in New Zealand on December 5

Runtime: 120 mins 

Language: Japanese with English subtitles & English dub

TAKI RUA THEATRE - BREAKING BARRIERS (2024)

What began as an experience in biculturalism between Māori and Pākehā grew into Taki Rua Theatre, the unofficial national Māori theatre company. As we tour the motu with the latest ensemble of young artists, we witness the deeply personal and politically visionary story of the 30-year struggle to create a truly bicultural force, and the wāhine toa who agitated for change.

The documentary Taki Rua Theatre – Breaking Barriers, directed by Whetū Fala, provides a compelling exploration of New Zealand’s journey towards bicultural identity through the lens of one of its most significant artistic institutions. With a script written by Fala, and contributions from Consulting Director Christina Asher, the film is an homage to the individuals and ideas that have shaped Taki Rua into a beacon of Māori cultural expression and resilience.

Emerging in the wake of the 1981 Springbok tour, a moment that catalysed national introspection, a group of liberal-minded Pākehā artists took over an unused theatre space in downtown Wellington. Originally known as The New Depot, the theatre sought to tell New Zealand stories for New Zealand audiences, reflecting the cultural shifts of the time. However, it soon became clear to the founders that to truly represent the nation’s identity, a deeper partnership with Māori communities was essential.

This evolution led to the rebranding of the theatre as Taki Rua, symbolising a shift towards inclusivity and biculturalism. While the change alienated some conservative Pākehā audiences, it opened the door to a more progressive and supportive community. This was a defining moment for the theatre, allowing it to grow into an institution that not only showcased Māori stories but also nurtured Māori talent.

Director Whetū Fala brings together voices from across Taki Rua’s 40-year history—actors, playwrights, producers, directors, and te reo Māori advocates—to reflect on the challenges and triumphs of the theatre’s journey. These narratives are woven with archival footage and excerpts from iconic Taki Rua productions such as Te Hokina, Purapurawhetū, Whatungarongaro, and Ngā Tangata Toa. These works, which once shocked audiences with their raw social commentary, are now celebrated as milestones of artistic expression.

Through these interviews and performances, the documentary reveals how Taki Rua’s struggles with financial instability, creative disputes, and political pressures mirror Aotearoa’s own journey toward recognising and celebrating its bicultural heritage. The film’s emotional depth lies in its ability to connect the theatre’s internal conflicts with the broader societal challenges faced by Māori, including the loss of language, cultural repression, and the ongoing fight for self-determination.

At its heart, Taki Rua represents more than a theatre—it is a movement to restore pride and strength to Māori culture. As the documentary highlights, Taki Rua has been instrumental in inspiring younger generations to embrace their heritage. By integrating fluent te reo Māori speakers as consultants and educators, the theatre not only preserves traditional stories but also empowers new creators to craft original narratives. Productions like Te Kuia Me Te Pūngāwerewere, a joyous te reo Māori play for children, demonstrate Taki Rua’s commitment to nurturing Māori voices and connecting them with wider audiences.

The film also delves into the personal sacrifices and collective resilience required to sustain the theatre through adversity. The loss of government funding, for instance, was a devastating blow, yet the unwavering dedication of the Taki Rua whānau ensured its survival. This narrative of perseverance resonates deeply in a time when Māori continue to assert their identity and rights in the face of systemic challenges.

The documentary’s release is both timely and necessary. As Aotearoa grapples with its colonial legacy, Taki Rua Theatre – Breaking Barriers serves as a reminder of the transformative power of the arts. The film celebrates Taki Rua as a stepping stone for Māori self-expression, allowing the community to thrive independently while fostering understanding and collaboration between Māori and Pākehā.

Whetū Fala’s direction captures the passion and love of those who have dedicated their lives to Taki Rua, juxtaposed with moments of loss and hardship. The interviews and archival footage are masterfully edited by Siobhan Houkamau, and the cinematography by Fred Renata, Matt Henley, and Richard Bluck brings a striking visual clarity to the stories. Executive Producers Gaylene Preston and Reikura Kahi provide the film with an authoritative perspective, ensuring its resonance with both Māori and non-Māori audiences.

Taki Rua’s impact extends far beyond the stage. By nurturing Māori artists and enabling them to find their place in global and mainstream media, the theatre has contributed significantly to New Zealand’s cultural landscape. It has also shown that true biculturalism is not about compromise but about partnership and mutual respect.

Taki Rua Theatre – Breaking Barriers reminds us of the importance of taking risks and breaking barriers. It’s hard to imagine New Zealand’s theatre scene today without the stories of Taki Rua, stories that have shaped not just the stage but the nation itself. For anyone interested in the intersections of art, culture, and identity, this documentary is an unmissable tribute to the power of storytelling in forging a shared future.

Whetū Fala’s documentary is a celebration of courage, creativity, and community. It chronicles not just the history of a theatre but the evolution of a nation striving to reconcile its past and embrace its dual heritage. Through its compelling narrative, Taki Rua Theatre – Breaking Barriers reminds us that cultural revival is a continuous journey—one that requires resilience, vision, and above all, unity.

Taki Rua Theatre – Breaking Barriers will be released in cinemas on November 28, 2024