THE WORM - NIGHTSONG (2026)

When a giant bird pokes its beak through the ceiling and swoops away with his mum, a determined little worm sets off on a heroic adventure to save her! 

Some shows leave you smiling politely as you walk out. Nightsong’s The Worm is not one of them. This one spits you back into daylight blinking like you have just resurfaced from a very theatrical wormhole. It is wild, warm, chaotic in the best possible way, and I am still not convinced I caught everything that happened on that stage. Honestly, I might need to see it again. My brain is still wriggling its way back to the surface.

Let us begin with the creature that will be haunting my dreams. The giant funnel web spider. I do not know what emotional journey the design team is on, but that spider was enormous. Legs that looked two metres long swung from the rafters like it owned the place. My eyesight is questionable at the best of times, but even I could see that this eight legged beast meant business. It was pure nightmare fuel and also brilliant theatre. That is the balance the show strikes. It is whimsical and alarming, sweet and chaotic, child friendly and adult unsettling. Somehow it all works.

Part of the magic comes from the venue. Te Pou Theatre at Corbans Estate has a way of elevating intimate and interactive work. The space feels grounded in whenua and community, warm and welcoming with that kaupapa Maori ease where talking to strangers feels natural. You walk in and immediately feel part of something, and that energy sets the tone long before the lights go down.

Inside the theatre, you are transported underground into a wormhole that feels like Middle earth collided with a jazz lounge and a children’s picture book. A lone invertebrate sits on stage serenading the audience with soft keys while also playing a trumpet at the same time. It is a multitasking flex that tells you exactly what kind of world you are entering. It is whimsical, weird, and wonderful.

The story is simple in the way all great family tales are. A young worm’s mum is snatched by a giant bird that crashes through the ceiling, and he must journey through the underground world to rescue her. It is a classic hero’s journey told with so much heart and humour that it feels fresh. It has the emotional clarity of a Pixar film. It is a show for tamariki, rangatahi, your nan, your koro, and anyone who loves a good adventure.

Along the way, the Worm meets a cast of unforgettable characters. A sneaky Snail. A sharp witted Spider. The Blind Rat who has crowned himself ruler of the underworld. The Snail is in love with the Blind Rat, a subplot I did not know I needed. There is also a Cockroach with big energy and a Worm who is equal parts adorable and determined. Alison Quigan QSM, Brett O’Gorman, Puka Moeau, and Shauntelle Jones deliver warm, funny, nuanced performances. They are the kind of actors you recognise but cannot quite place, which only adds to the charm.

The design work is extraordinary. Nightsong’s reputation for larger than life puppets and props is fully intact here. Lighting, set, costumes, puppetry, everything is meticulously crafted. The costumes feel scientifically accurate in a way that suggests someone on the team has spent a suspicious amount of time researching invertebrates. Every detail feels intentional.

And then there is the music. Finn Scholes from Carnivorous Plant Society performs live on stage and deserves his own paragraph. At one point he is playing piano and trumpet at the same time. Later he switches to flute, then xylophone, then something else entirely. The score shifts between whimsical, jazzy, and almost Tarantino like. These are bold choices for a family show, and they work beautifully. The music gives the production momentum and mischief.

The humour is constant and layered. Jokes for kids, jokes for adults, puns, slapstick, and then the snail bait death scene. I am still laughing. A snail being poisoned by pool noodles and a bubble machine because Shaggy does not want snails near his lettuce. Ridiculous, theatrical, perfect. All it needed was Scooby Doo wandering in.

There is also a surprising amount of smoke machine use. Enough that I briefly wondered if we were being gently smoked like brisket in a family friendly way.

What surprised me most was the heart. Worms apparently have five hearts, and this show uses all of them" Beneath the humour and spectacle is a story about love, bravery, and the journey from darkness into light. It is about trusting others, trusting yourself, and wriggling forward even when the world feels big and overwhelming.

At Te Pou, the kaupapa Maori environment adds an extra layer of warmth and community. It felt like a whanau night out. Kids laughing. Adults laughing even harder. Strangers chatting. Everyone buzzing afterwards. It is the kind of theatre that reminds you why live performance matters. It brings people together in a shared moment of joy and connection.

By the end, as the Worm and his friends danced in the rain, I realised that The Worm is one of those rare shows that manages to be down to earth while also being wildly imaginative. It is funny, sweet, offbeat, and unforgettable. There truly is something for everyone. If you get the chance, worm your way to the theatre. Just be prepared for the spider.

The Worm is being performed at Henderson's Te Pou Theatre from April 8-11
Purchase tickets here

Review written by Josh McNally

Edited by Alex Moulton

THE SPONGEBOB MOVIE: SEARCH FOR SQUAREPANTS (2025)

SpongeBob journeys to the ocean's depths to face the Flying Dutchman's ghost, encountering challenges and uncovering marine mysteries.

For nearly three decades, SpongeBob SquarePants has been more than just a cartoon character; he’s become a cultural fixture. His boundless optimism, goofy innocence, and unshakable belief that every day can be “the best day ever” have kept him lodged firmly in the public imagination. It’s no surprise, then, that Nickelodeon continues to bring him back to the big screen. The SpongeBob Movie: Search for SquarePants is the fourth theatrical outing for the beloved sponge, and while it delivers the expected chaos and comedy, it struggles to offer anything narratively fresh.

The film kicks off with SpongeBob waking up to discover he’s grown just enough to finally ride a towering rollercoaster that has long taunted him. For SpongeBob, this isn’t just about thrills; it’s about proving he’s ready to stand among the “big guys.” But when faced with the ride’s intimidating cannons and screaming passengers, his courage evaporates. He panics, lies to Patrick about his bravery, and retreats.

Enter Mr. Krabs, who mocks SpongeBob’s fear and flashes his old pirate certificate, reminding everyone of his swashbuckling youth before fast-food capitalism consumed him. In typical SpongeBob fashion, things spiral out of control: he accidentally summons the Flying Dutchman, voiced with gleeful menace by Mark Hamill. Suddenly, SpongeBob and Patrick are whisked away on a ghostly ship, tasked with helping the Dutchman break a centuries-old curse.

From this point on, the film abandons any attempt at building mythology or deep narrative. Instead, it fully commits to absurdity. Once SpongeBob, Patrick, and Mr. Krabs plunge into the underworld, the movie becomes a rapid-fire parade of slapstick gags, visual puns, and irreverent detours. The pacing is relentless: joke, cut, gag, cut, explosion of color, cut, chase scene, cut.

For younger audiences, this manic energy is a feature, not a bug. The film never slows down long enough for attention spans to wander. But for older viewers, the sheer volume of jokes and quick cuts can feel exhausting. It’s SpongeBob turned up to eleven, and whether that’s exhilarating or overwhelming depends entirely on your tolerance for chaos.

One of the enduring charms of SpongeBob’s world has always been its ensemble cast. Squidward’s grumpiness, Sandy’s scientific curiosity, Plankton’s hapless villainy, and Pearl’s teenage angst all add flavor to Bikini Bottom. Unfortunately, Search for SquarePants sidelines most of these characters. Squidward, Sandy, Plankton, and Pearl appear briefly, but they’re little more than cameos. The spotlight remains firmly on SpongeBob, Patrick, Mr. Krabs, and the Dutchman. This narrowed focus gives the film a tighter buddy-adventure feel, but it comes at the cost of creative range. The comedic voices feel limited, and longtime fans may miss the quirky ensemble dynamic that has always defined the franchise.

At its core, the film’s message is about bravery. True courage, it insists, isn’t about height, swagger, or certificates; it’s about facing fear, whether that fear is a rollercoaster or the suspicion that others don’t see you as capable. It’s a wholesome theme, and SpongeBob’s vulnerability makes it resonate.

The problem is that we’ve seen this story before. SpongeBob trying to prove his maturity or bravery has been a cornerstone of both the series and previous films. Mr. Krabs dismissing SpongeBob as a kid echoes the first SpongeBob SquarePants Movie. SpongeBob’s fear of the rollercoaster mirrors the classic episode “Roller Cowards.” By revisiting well-worn storylines, Search for SquarePants struggles to justify its existence beyond being another fun romp.

Where the film does shine is in its animation. The creative team has improcved SpongeBob’s CGI theatrical look, giving the characters a clay-like texture that makes them pop on the big screen. The style contrasts beautifully with the 2D animation of the show, offering a more cinematic, elevated feel. The characters almost resemble claymation figurines, with textures and movements that enhance the visual gags.

The Flying Dutchman and his crew benefit especially from this design. Hamill’s voice work pairs perfectly with the eerie-yet-goofy visuals, and Regina Hall adds flair as his long-suffering second-in-command. Mr. Krabs also gets more depth and screen time than usual, which is a welcome touch.

Despite the dazzling visuals, the story feels stretched. The central plot could have been told in 45 minutes, but instead it’s padded into a feature-length runtime. Long sections drag, and the relentless gag-driven pacing makes the thin narrative even more apparent. The tone also wobbles: at times it’s too childish for older audiences, yet some of the ghostly sequences may be too spooky for very young kids.

All in all, The SpongeBob Movie: Search for SquarePants delivers exactly what you’d expect: bright colors, silly jokes, and SpongeBob’s trademark optimism. It’s fun, wacky, and over-the-top, but narratively it doesn’t bring anything new to the table. For kids under ten (or adults who are kids at heart) it’s a delight. For longtime fans hoping for something inventive, it may feel like déjà vu.

The film’s dedication to chaos ensures plenty of laughs, but its recycled themes and padded runtime keep it from reaching the heights of SpongeBob’s best outings. It’s a fine, fun time, but not a groundbreaking one.

The SpongeBob Movie: Search for SquarePants is in NZ cinemas on Boxing Day

Review written by Alex Moulton

THE VALENTINA [WE THE YOUNG ARTS FESTIVAL] (2025)

Join 8-year-old Ellen and her trusted crewmembers Neil Armstrong, Yuri Gagarin, Valentina Tereshkova and Laika the space dog on an extraordinary journey, past the edge of the unknown, and onto the surface of the mysterious and dangerous planet, Vitanonan X. 

The Valentina has made the leap from stage to sound, with The Rebel Alliance now releasing it as an audiobook. The production, which blends everyday family life with a whimsical journey into outer space, retains its playful charm in this new format. As a listening experience, it captures the imagination in much the same way as a bedtime story, though its humour and the occasional darker detail place it more comfortably in the hands of slightly older children and adults.

The story centres on Ellen, a young girl with her head in the stars. She is fascinated by space, dreaming of figures like Valentina Tereshkova and Yuri Gagarin, and sketching spaceships that soon blur into something more real. Her world, though grounded in a modest home and school life, is filled with extraordinary touches: her mum, who types at super speed after losing a hand to a shark; her dad, who lost an eye in a zoo mishap; and her own boundless imagination, which carries her from the classroom to the far reaches of the cosmos.

The audiobook unfolds in short, distinct chapters, each often only a few minutes long. This structure works well for listening in small doses. Almost like a collection of mini-adventures that build into a larger story, it makes for an excellent fit for bedtime listening, where the darkness creates an opportunity to let the imagination roam free.

The audio style reflects its theatrical origins. Performances are expressive and energetic, leaning into humour and exaggeration in ways that echo live theatre. Character voices are distinct, with parents, teachers, and space heroes all given their own flair. Music and sound effects are used sparingly but effectively, helping to transport listeners from a family kitchen to a Soviet potato field or the deck of a spacecraft. Rather than layering on complex sound design, the audiobook lets performance drive the atmosphere, which gives it a direct and personal feel.

Visually, the production is supported by sketches and drawings that appear in a kind of low-frame-rate stop-motion. These illustrations set the mood but change very slowly, sometimes lingering for half a minute while the audio pushes ahead into new scenes. The result can feel slightly disconnected, as the images freeze while the story carries on at its own pace. It is not enough to undermine the listening experience, but it does raise the question of whether the visuals add much beyond what the aural performances already achieve. 

For some, the stillness might be a chance to lean into imagination, while for others it may come across as an unnecessary extra layer. The visuals, though not essential, may add an occasional point of focus for those who prefer something to look at. For others, the drawings may feel too static, and the story arguably shines brighter when left to the mind’s eye.

One of the joys of this story is its playfulness with history and science. We hear Yuri Gagarin wander into a potato field for tea, Neil Armstrong complain about lukewarm water for his brew, and Laika the space dog curl up in a basket aboard Ellen’s dream ship. These figures from space history are brought together with affection, becoming part of Ellen’s creative world rather than distant icons. It keeps the story light, accessible, and entertaining, while still sparking curiosity about the real-life achievements behind the names.

The humour is pitched at different levels. Children will enjoy the silliness of a father embarrassing his daughter by pretending to be cool at the wheel, or the jokes about lions and sharks. Adults, meanwhile, will smile at the satire woven into news broadcasts about trillionaires launching fast-food chains into space, or the wry comments about office life and management reports. It attempts to keep both audiences engaged, which is not an easy balance to strike across such a wide age range.

Where the story stands out most is in its willingness to fold moments of absurdity alongside darker notes. Ellen’s parents’ missing body parts are mentioned casually, but they hint at real danger beneath the humour. Space itself is both wondrous and perilous; the story dips into the frightening, and it acknowledges both the fun and danger that comes with an adventure.

What remains clear is that the production’s heart lies in celebrating imagination and curiosity. Ellen’s dreamlike encounters with space pioneers capture the way children stitch together scraps of history, fantasy, and family into stories that make sense of their world. In that sense, the audiobook is less about outer space and more about the resilience and creativity needed to dream big, even in the face of everyday limitations.

The Valentina is a warm, funny, and sometimes poignant listen. It invites families to journey together into a world where the kitchen table might sit next to a rocket launch pad, and where history’s great explorers drop by for tea. It may not be perfect, but it is full of charm, and it reminds us that the best adventures often begin with nothing more than a story told in the dark.

The Rebel Alliance have adapted their award-winning family play The Valentina into an illustrated audiobook, designed to be enjoyed online as part of We the Young, a brand new Auckland Live arts festival. 

6 months access to the La Valentina illustrated audiobook is available for purchase until September 28 here

Review written by Alex Moulton

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

HAROLD AND THE PURPLE CRAYON (2024)

Inside of his book, adventurous Harold can make anything come to life simply by drawing it. After he grows up and draws himself off the book's pages and into the physical world, Harold finds he has a lot to learn about real life.

In Harold and the Purple Crayon, director Carlos Saldanha brings to life Crockett Johnson’s beloved children’s book, but with a twist—the story follows a now-adult Harold on a journey that extends beyond the confines of his storybook world. With a magical crayon that can create anything he imagines, Harold, played by Zachary Levi, embarks on a quest to find the missing Narrator of his book.

Blending live-action with animation, the film’s visuals are one of its key strengths. Gabriel Beristain’s cinematography contrasts the whimsical 2D animated world that Harold comes from with the more grounded live-action setting of the real world. This juxtaposition gives the movie a unique style, though at times the film struggles to fully capitalise on the imaginative possibilities of its premise. While the visual elements are charming, they fall short of the vibrant creativity that could have made Harold’s world more immersive.

The storyline is structured around Harold’s "fish out of water" experience as he discovers the real world. This is a familiar narrative trope, reminiscent of films like Barbie, Elf, Enchanted, and Big, where characters from fantastical settings must navigate ordinary environments. While the trope isn’t original, it remains effective, providing plenty of light-hearted comedy. Harold’s naïveté about the world leads to amusing misunderstandings, much of which will entertain younger audiences. Yet, there are moments of humour aimed at adults, ensuring that parents watching with their children have something to chuckle at as well.

One of the film’s strongest aspects is how it balances being both a children’s movie and something that adults can enjoy. The film’s central message about imagination resonates with audiences of all ages. It serves as a reminder that, as adults, we often lose sight of the importance of creativity and dreaming, and Harold’s crayon, which can bring anything to life, symbolises the boundless potential of the human imagination. This theme is explored throughout the movie, though the screenplay doesn’t fully delve into its deeper implications.

While the film encourages imagination, the plot itself is often predictable. The villain, though entertaining, never feels truly menacing, keeping the stakes low and preventing the film from building much tension. However, this light-heartedness also makes the movie suitable for all ages, as the threat never becomes too intense for younger viewers. In this way, the film maintains a playful, pantomime-like tone that keeps the mood fun and lively.

The cast delivers solid performances, with Zachary Levi bringing enthusiasm to the role of Harold. However, much of the film’s heart comes from young Benjamin Bottani, who plays Mel, a character who adds a sense of youthful wonder to the story. The supporting characters, Moose and Porcupine, portrayed by Lil Rel Howery and Tanya Reynolds respectively, provide comic relief and quirky charm, though their roles are underdeveloped due to the film’s split focus across multiple characters.

The film’s climax, which features a showdown involving Harold’s crayon, is one of the most visually exciting moments, finally delivering on the creative potential that was hinted at throughout the film. However, much of the film leading up to this point feels like a missed opportunity, as it leans heavily on familiar tropes rather than fully exploring the imaginative possibilities of the magical crayon.

Harold and the Purple Crayon is an enjoyable family film that doesn’t quite reach the heights of its source material. While it offers a fun and light-hearted experience, it lacks the depth and creativity that could have made it truly special. Still, for audiences who go in expecting a simple, fun adventure, the movie delivers enough charm to make for an entertaining outing. The film reminds us that, sometimes, all we need is a little imagination to make life more exciting—even if the movie itself doesn’t always live up to that promise.

Harold and the Purple Crayon is in NZ cinemas from September 26, 2024

TRANSFORMERS ONE (2024)

The untold origin story of Optimus Prime and Megatron, better known as sworn enemies, but once were friends bonded like brothers who changed the fate of Cybertron forever.

Transformers One brings a fresh and dynamic perspective to the beloved Transformers franchise, setting itself apart from previous live-action entries by focusing entirely on the world of the Autobots and Decepticons. Directed by Josh Cooley and featuring the voices of Chris Hemsworth, Brian Tyree Henry, and Scarlett Johansson, this animated feature dives into the rich history of Optimus Prime and Megatron, charting their tragic journey from brothers-in-arms to bitter enemies. With a strong emphasis on emotion, world-building, and character-driven storytelling, Transformers One feels like a rejuvenation of the franchise, injecting it with a level of depth and heart that many fans have longed for.

At its core, Transformers One is an origin story, exploring the early days of the Autobots and Decepticons on Cybertron. The film traces the bond between Optimus Prime and Megatron, highlighting how their once-strong friendship unravels into a bitter rivalry. The emotional weight of their relationship forms the backbone of the narrative, allowing the audience to truly empathize with both characters. It's a refreshing shift from the typical action-heavy plots of past films, offering more substance and depth to the conflict. This focus on character and story development is one of the film's greatest strengths, making the viewer feel the emotional stakes as Optimus and Megatron transform from allies to enemies.

One of the standout features of this film is how human-like the Transformers' facial expressions are. The animation team has done a remarkable job in bringing the Autobots and Decepticons to life, giving them emotions that resonate with the audience. Unlike previous iterations where the Transformers often felt robotic and distant, Transformers One gives them a sense of humanity. Their emotions are clear, their thoughts are visible, and their struggles are palpable. You can see the conflict in Optimus Prime's eyes, feel the anger and betrayal in Megatron's face, and experience the full range of emotions as they grapple with their differences. This attention to detail makes the characters feel alive, more than just machines engaged in battle.

Set entirely on the metallic world of Cybertron, Transformers One offers a visually stunning depiction of the planet, immersing the audience in a fully realised world. The art direction and world-building are top-notch, with every frame filled with intricate details that bring Cybertron to life. The action is clear, fast-paced, and exhilarating, yet the designs of each Transformer are distinct enough that there’s never any confusion about who is who. Each character’s design and colour scheme is instantly recognisable, helping to differentiate them in the heat of battle. The visual clarity is a breath of fresh air compared to the chaotic action sequences of previous live-action films, which often made it hard to keep track of the combatants. Here, everything is crisp and defined.

Clocking in at a brisk 104 minutes, Transformers One manages to strike the perfect balance between action and story. The film wastes no time getting to the heart of the matter, offering high-octane action sequences that are visually impressive without overstaying their welcome. The third act, in particular, is a spectacle of energy and excitement, ramping up the tension and delivering on the emotional beats that have been building throughout the film. While some may find the plot points predictable, the execution is so strong that it doesn’t diminish the impact of the story. The pacing is tight, and the action sequences are dynamic and thrilling, although some moments are so fast-paced that it may be difficult to keep up if seated too close to the screen.

Transformers One is clearly aimed at a younger audience, blending the coming-of-age genre with the world of robots. However, the film does an excellent job of making its themes and storylines accessible to all ages. The emotional depth, character development, and sense of nostalgia make it enjoyable for long-time fans of the franchise as well as newcomers. It strikes a careful balance, offering enough action and visual excitement to keep younger viewers engaged while also providing a thoughtful exploration of friendship, loyalty, and the cost of war. The coming-of-age aspect is seamlessly woven into the narrative, adding an extra layer of relatability.

One of the most refreshing aspects of Transformers One is its focus on the Transformers themselves. Unlike previous films, which often became bogged down in human-centric storylines, this movie keeps the attention squarely on the Autobots and Decepticons. The plot revolves around their conflicts, their relationships, and their world. By doing so, the film avoids the distraction of human drama, allowing for a more cohesive and engaging story. It's a welcome change for fans who have long wanted a film that truly centres the Transformers without the constant presence of human characters stealing the spotlight.

The film’s humour is blunt and direct, with moments of levity breaking up the intense action and drama. While the comedy may not appeal to everyone, it fits well within the tone of the film, keeping the overall atmosphere light-hearted even in the midst of darker moments. The jokes are in-your-face, but they serve their purpose of providing some relief amid the high-stakes action and emotional tension. The balance of humour and drama ensures that the film never feels too heavy, maintaining an enjoyable and engaging pace throughout.

Transformers One breathes new life into a franchise that many thought had run its course. By focusing on the origins of Optimus Prime and Megatron, the film offers a fresh take on a familiar story, rich in emotion, character development, and visual spectacle. With its stunning animation, engaging storyline, and focus on the Autobots and Decepticons themselves, this film delivers a Transformers experience that fans have been waiting for. Whether you're a long-time follower of the franchise or a newcomer, Transformers One is a triumphant return to form, proving that there is still plenty of life and creativity left in this iconic series.

Transformers One will be released in cinemas on September 26, 2024

WILBERT WIRE (2024) [DAY ONE SHORTS]

An autistic student who is ‘othered’ attends an art class and is tasked by his teacher to create a painting about love

Wilbert Wire, directed and written by Ricky Townsend, is a charming and imaginative short film that blends elements of science fiction with family-friendly storytelling. With a runtime of 13 minutes, the film offers a delightful exploration of an autistic student's journey to understand the concept of love through a unique art assignment. Produced by Ella Waswo and co-produced by Joseph Chamsay, this short manages to captivate with its engaging premise and inventive execution.

The core of Wilbert Wire revolves around Wilbert Wire, an autistic student who finds himself at odds with his peers and the world around him. Tasked by his teacher to create a painting about love, Wilbert's attempt to comprehend and depict this complex emotion forms the crux of the film. The premise is both fun and thought-provoking, using the art class setting to explore broader themes of emotional expression and acceptance.

The film employs familiar stereotypes associated with autism—difficulty in expressing emotions, adherence to routines, and a fascination with trains—but it does so with a refreshing twist. Rather than reducing Wilbert to a mere collection of traits, the film embraces these characteristics to craft a narrative that is both endearing and insightful.

The opening scenes, featuring commercials and channel surfing, are a clever way to introduce the world of the film. These elements set up the narrative in an entertaining and engaging manner, creating a payoff that resonates throughout the film.

One of the standout aspects of Wilbert Wire is its set design and lighting. The art room, though occasionally marred by slightly shaky camerawork, is otherwise visually engaging, with a smooth tracking of the characters and their interactions. The film’s colour palette plays a significant role in establishing mood and tone. The use of a yellow gradient during the simulation scenes is particularly effective, creating a visual distinction that enhances the storytelling.

The lighting and colour choices extend to Wilbert’s home environment as well, where the warm yellows contribute to a sense of comfort and belonging. This thoughtful application of colour helps to underscore the emotional nuances of the film and highlights the contrast between Wilbert’s internal world and the external environment.

A notable highlight of the film is the simulation sequence, where Wilbert attempts to understand and enact love through mime and interpretative actions. This sequence is not only a brilliant showcase of physical storytelling but is also enhanced by a well-curated stock of sound effects and audio. The result is a dynamic and engaging “action” scene that effectively captures the complexity of Wilbert’s quest.

The sound design in Wilbert Wire is exceptional, blending seamlessly with the visual elements to create an immersive experience. The audio choices complement the film’s quirky tone and help to bring Wilbert’s imaginative simulation to life. The continued footage through the credits is a nice touch, adding an extra layer of engagement and continuity to the film.

Josiah’s portrayal of Wilbert Wire is a standout performance, bringing depth and charm to the character. Wilbert is portrayed with both humour and sensitivity, allowing the audience to connect with him on a personal level. The film includes small comedic elements that are well-placed, adding levity without detracting from the emotional core of the story.

While Wilbert Wire is a delightful and inventive short, there are areas where it could benefit from refinement. The bumpy camerawork in the art room can be distracting at times, though this is a minor issue in the context of the film’s overall charm. Additionally, while the use of stereotypes is handled with care, there is an opportunity to further deepen Wilbert’s character beyond the typical traits associated with autism.

Whimsical and heartfelt, Wilbert Wire successfully combines science fiction elements with a family-friendly narrative. Its creative approach to exploring love through the lens of an autistic student is both entertaining and thought-provoking. With standout performances, effective use of colour and sound, and a quirky, engaging storyline, the film offers a refreshing take on emotional expression and acceptance.

The film’s strong visual and auditory elements, combined with its thoughtful character portrayal, make it a memorable viewing experience. As a fun and inventive exploration of a complex theme, Wilbert Wire is a commendable addition to the world of short filmmaking, and it leaves a lasting impression through its unique approach and endearing storytelling.

Day One Hāpai te Haeata provides rangatahi with the tools, guidance and opportunities to share stories on screen.

The entire series of the eight short films premieres at Hollywood Avondale on Tuesday 3rd September, with all films then released online the following day - and socials thereafter. 

View the shorts here

FLOW (2024) [NZIFF]

Cat is a solitary animal, but as its home is devastated by a great flood, he finds refuge on a boat populated by various species, and will have to team up with them despite their differences.

Animation, as a genre, often attracts attention for its visual artistry, and Flow is no exception. However, this film, directed by Gints Zilbalodis, manages to distinguish itself not by relying on the technological grandeur of studios like Disney, Pixar, or DreamWorks but by focusing on a unique blend of storytelling and artistic expression. In a world where big-budget animation dominates, Flow offers a refreshing take that speaks to the soul of the medium—an exploration of narrative through movement, atmosphere, and subtle character dynamics.

At its core, Flow is a minimalist film. It foregoes dialogue and narration, a bold choice in a medium where storytelling is often driven by spoken words. Instead, it places the onus on the animation to convey emotion, relationships, and plot progression. This approach demands a higher level of engagement from the audience. Without the comfort of dialogue to explain the world, viewers are invited to interpret the subtleties of movement, the quirks of the characters, and the intricate dynamics of their environment. This method may not appeal to everyone, as it creates a viewing experience that can feel more passive—like observing someone play a video game. However, for those willing to engage with it, Flow offers an invigorating and meditative journey.

The film centres on a black cat, a solitary creature navigating a world transformed by a near-biblical flood. The floodwaters rise, engulfing the forest in mere seconds, and from that point on, the cat struggles to survive in a strange new waterworld. The absence of human characters is notable; their presence is felt only through the remnants of civilization that occasionally appear in the background, half-submerged beneath the water. This gives the film a strangely video game-like atmosphere, where the cat is both a participant and an observer in a world reshaped by forces beyond its control.

One of Flow’s greatest strengths is its choice of animals, each of which carries a well-established set of characteristics that help define their roles within the story. The black cat, for instance, is portrayed with the familiar traits of aloofness and independence often associated with felines. Labradors, known for their loyalty and fun-loving nature, add a layer of warmth and companionship, while lemurs are depicted as resourceful and slightly obsessive hoarders. Capybaras, renowned for their friendliness and lazy disposition, contribute a sense of calm and laid-back charm to the group dynamic. By leaning into these well-known stereotypes, the film is able to build character depth without the need for extensive backstories. Viewers can instantly connect with these animals on a deeper level, recognising traits they’ve seen in real life, which in turn adds to the film’s charm.

Though the animation may not match the hyper-realism that we’ve come to expect from modern animated films, Flow is visually stunning in its own right. Zilbalodis’s style favours bold colours and broad strokes over intricate details. For instance, while the animals’ fur may not be rendered with the same minute attention to detail as in some blockbuster animations, the film compensates with vivid hues, striking sunsets, and a breathtaking depiction of water. The animation of water in particular stands out as one of the most beautiful aspects of the film. It flows and swells with a life of its own, almost becoming a character in the story as the cat battles against the rising tide.

Where the film truly excels is in its character animation. The black cat, the protagonist of this adventure, is brought to life with remarkable realism. The way the cat reacts to its environment, the way its ears twitch or its tail sways, and even the subtle changes in its pupils all contribute to a character that feels authentic. These small details, which may go unnoticed at first glance, are a testament to the artistry behind the film. Every motion, from a hesitant step to a defensive arch of the back, conveys the cat’s emotions and responses to the challenges it faces in this new world.

In a film without dialogue, sound design takes on a crucial role in storytelling, and Flow handles this beautifully. The sounds of the animals—the meows, barks, and chirps—help define their personalities and communicate their thoughts and feelings in ways that dialogue never could. The ambient sounds of the environment, from the gentle lapping of water to the rustling of leaves, further immerse the viewer in the world of Flow. The sound and animation work together to create a film that is emotionally resonant, even in its quietest moments.

Despite its visual and auditory beauty, Flow isn’t without its challenges. The plot is relatively simplistic, and towards the end, it can become somewhat confusing. The minimalism that gives the film its unique charm also means that certain elements are left unexplained. The film doesn’t spoon-feed answers to the audience, which can be both a strength and a weakness, depending on the viewer’s expectations. For some, the lack of concrete resolution might be frustrating, while others may appreciate the open-ended nature of the narrative, allowing for personal interpretation.

Thematically, Flow is a film about trust, companionship, and survival. At the heart of the story is the black cat, a wary and independent creature who gradually learns to rely on others. This journey towards trust and friendship is handled with a light touch, embedded in the narrative in a way that feels organic rather than preachy. It’s a message that resonates, particularly in a film aimed at younger audiences. The importance of friendship, cooperation, and mutual trust is conveyed with clarity, yet never over-emphasised, making it a wonderful film for children and adults alike.

The world of Flow is one of wonder and mystery. The animals drift through a landscape that is both familiar and strange, a place where the remnants of human civilization peek through the water’s surface. There’s a sense of melancholy in these scenes, as the animals passively witness the aftermath of a world that no longer belongs to them. Yet, there’s also beauty in this new reality—the night skies are breathtaking, the water shimmers with life, and the creatures that inhabit this world are weird and wonderful. Flow doesn’t seek to explain everything, and that’s part of its charm. The unanswered questions add to the allure of the world, inviting viewers to lose themselves in its quiet, contemplative atmosphere.

Flow is a beautifully-made, deeply cinematic film that offers an emotional experience rather than a traditional narrative. It is a film about survival, friendship, and the resilience of the spirit in the face of overwhelming odds. Though it may not appeal to everyone, particularly those looking for a fast-paced, dialogue-driven story, it is a film that rewards patience and introspection. With its captivating animation, stunning sound design, and heartfelt message, Flow stands as a testament to the power of animation as a storytelling medium.

Flow is one of 105 films screening as part of the Whānau Mārama New Zealand International Film Festival (NZIFF)

The full programme of 2024 films is outlined here.

Tickets can be booked online at www.nziff.co.nz