The Lion King (PG)

*Nasal intake of breath* Of course (cough) it's not live action at all you know....

Yeah Brian, we know. Sigh.

And so every online discussion about Disney's revamp of The Lion King begins — a discussion only derailed by the unveiling of the trailer for Cats.

There are days when I think people go online just to prove someone else wrong.

Now, we're not saying we understand the whys and wherefores behind this latest move by the Disney money machine, but let's be kind and put artistic wossinames somewhere on there.

Not near the top, sure, but on there somewhere.

Because, to be fair, underneath the pixels or colouring in (depending which version you now favour), there is a solid little tale being told.

And for once, it would be nice if this is the thing we could focus on (a point made all the more pertinent as people seem fixated on the ethnic make-up of the cast...).

Now we remember going to see this film when first it toddled onto the big screen, Elton John wailing his little socks off and baby lionses never looking cuterer.

Or something.

Since then, Simba's cartoonish adventures have made it to a sequel (if you are too young to remember Disney's foray into straight-to-DVD follow-ups, well done) and a slightly successful stage-show.

And really, that's what this re-telling of the tail (hey, we were going to do this at some point) is all about — bringing the animation (cartoon 1) and live action (stage show) together with the latest graphics.

And, from that perspective, this film is another sure-fire hit.

The new voices are excellent (John Oliver as Zazu, Chiwetel Ejiofor as Scar, Donald Glover as Simba, some young singing sensation called Beyonce as Nala) while James Earl Jones steals the whole show before... well... you know...

And the humour has been updated, and the graphics are beautiful, and Simba's ickle face is just the cutest thing ever.

They could have royally screwed this up, yet somehow Disney dodged that particular poacher's bullet.

That's not to say the film is perfect — far from it.

With great pixels come great responsibility, or something, and by bringing the cartoon 'to life' (shut up Brian, not the time) a key layer has been removed.

You see, back in the day when Simba was drawn using Paint, the very cartoonish nature of the medium cushioned you from the bigger emotional blows — and given Disney's propensity for death and gore, this was a good thing.

Just ask anyone who watched Bambi as a kid.

Oh hell, they're going to do this to Bambi aren't they. Oh sh.... Sorry, where were we? Oh yes, wholesome cartoony goodness.

So, yes, bold colours helped you realise none of this is real. And even then, The Lion King packed an emotional punch.

Now, if by some freak accident you're the person who has never seen The Lion King (OK, other person, Mrs Popcorn won't watch in case she gets upset — she remembers Bambi) we'll skirt round a bit.

But you know when THAT happens, and how the ol' heart strings got tugged? Now imagine that happening with a seemingly real lion you already love because James Earl Jones.

It actually makes The Lion King a darker film.

This is also true of the great Simba unveiling. Suddenly we have real zebra celebrating the very person who will hunt them down and kill them.

That scene's not so cute now...

All of this is, of course, overthinking caused by being all adult and looking at the world through scratched, smashed glasses having lived through the past few years.

For the younger generation, this is a whole new film and it's very important to remember this.

Our youngest nephew was taken to see this version and had the time of his life (well, until he dozed off — two hours is a long time when you're still in short trousers), and that's really the most important thing here.

Disney now own every franchise we've ever loved, and they didn't buy them out of love — these things are cash cows. Or lions.

As such, it's in the corporations best interests to find ways of reissuing the old back catalogue to a new audience.

In doing so here, they have captured the magic of the characters and the songs and made the whole thing look thoroughly modern. Meaning several new generations can enjoy the magic before they become old and jaded like the rest of us.

But it also means we can revisit the magic through their fresh eyes. And maybe, for an afternoon, we can forget the world we live in and instead step into theirs.

Yesterday (12A)

You may have noticed the current social media trend of people feeling the need to speak out about things they have no interest in — because them not liking a popular thing is apparently really important.

We first noticed it with Game Of Thrones ("I've never watched..." — yeah, yeah, no one cares) and then just last week when a lot of white people felt their lack of interest in Stormzy was worthy of comment.

To this illustrious trend, this valuable use of bandwidth and time, we can now add Yesterday, the latest cinematic offering from Richard Curtis.

The main premise seems to be the instigation for the angst, or perhaps it's the fear that a feel-good movie is heading to the top of the film charts and people might actually start enjoying themselves.

Because, even with director Danny Boyle on board, if you're expecting anything other than two hours of having your feels played with then you need go back and start again...

And that's not to say Yesterday is in any way a disappointing film — far from it, but when Curtis is known for doing what he does, and doing it damn well, why complain when that's what he then does?

For those who have missed the main plot device, Himesh Patel plays struggling singer-songwriter Jack Malik, a man who can barely get his own friends to listen to his music.

Then, one fateful night, a solar flare knocks out the entire world's electricity for 12 seconds, which is just long enough for Jack to be hit by a bus and end up in hospital.

When he comes round he discovers several cultural touchstones have been wiped from existence — most importantly for the purpose of this film, The Beatles — and he is the only person on the planet who remembers them.

From here, a man who could barely get arrested becomes the biggest rock star on the planet. Living the dream, touring with Ed Sheeran, recording in LA and generally having everything he'd ever wanted handed to him in a champagne flute.

Essentially what this film is, is a look at the joy of discovering something for the first time. The excitement, the joy, the shared experiences. All the things we forget as familiarity sets in.

But what this film is also about is the importance of being happy.

Joining Jack on his musical journey is friend Ellie (played brilliantly by Lily James), the only person he knows who thinks he's genuinely talented and deserving of success.

Yes, yes, the clues are all there, but Jack's a bit dim.

What unfolds is nothing sort of soppy, heartwarming loveliness.

It's not dark, gritty, violent or even sexual, but what Curtis and Boyle have created is a giant hug of a movie that just makes you feel damn good.

And in former EastEnders star Himesh, they have the perfect star for this film.

He has a gentle, engaging screen presence, can sing, play guitar and piano, and delivers every line with note perfect sincerity and believability.

It's impossible to imagine anyone else playing this part.

Obviously the world knows who Lily James is these days (pretty sure Downton Abbey has been screen on the moon), and here she is every bit as good as we have come to expect.

In fact, we're pretty sure we haven't seen a romcom performance this heartmeltingly superb since Felicity Jones in Like Crazy and Chalet Girl.

The rest of the cast are all on it as well, and in fact there isn't a duff performance in the whole movie.

The huge surprise here, mind, is Ed Sheeran.

Not a fan of the Suffolk songster, but (as Simon Mayo brought up on Wittertainment recently) playing yourself is harder than you think and yet Ed managed it with aplomb.

Now, you may have noticed that so far the Curtis element of Yesterday has garnered our focus, but there are two stars behind the camera here.

We already know Boyle can turn his hand to anything, and here he proves this once more adding touches and flourishes that add new layers to the Curtis tropes.

Unusual camera angles, use of graphics, a lightness of touch when needed, trying to keep scenes as natural as possible — all these elements come together to lift Yesterday above the 'standard' romcom.

And he was clearly having a blast doing it. There is joy and delight in every scene of this movie.

Of course, as with all good romcoms, the story is not a straight line. There's added mystery, twists, reveals and general tomfoolery.

All of which is balanced perfectly.

And the eyes get very moist towards the end.

Look, I get it. Curtis isn't cool, or edgy, but he is popular and as such is deemed fair game for those who trade in negatives.

But Yesterday is just a huge chunk of happy in a world gone sad, and given the crap going on right now this is both the film we need and film we deserve.

Will it change your life? Of course not, but then nor will staring at a glorious sunset with a large glass of red in paw — but that doesn't mean you shouldn't just shut up, stop moaning, sit down and enjoy it.

John Wick: Chapter 3 — Parabellum (15)

There are many things you can say about the new John Wick instalment, but a lack of punctuation in the title is not an issue here.

I mean, come on, seriously? We needed a colon AND a dash?

OK, sure, it's not the thing you take away from this movie but it was genuinely the first thing that struck us as the screening began.

Such trivial matters are soon forgotten, however, as the film gets underway and we join a wet Keanu Reeves jogging through the New York rain, trying to get somewhere by somewhen, dog at his side.

Such details are soon clarified as we discover that Mr Wick has been booted out of the Killing Klub for Reasons (you'll need to have seen JW2 for these to make sense), and as the countdown begins he's en route to going from hunter to hunted.

What follows is standard John Wick fair — stylish, outlandish fight sequences that are basically brutal ballet, all beaten out with tongues firmly in cheek.

And yes, the fight scenes are violent, but they're also fun. And in places, hilarious.

We laughed more in the opening 45 minutes than we have at most of the comedies we've seen in the past 12 months.

And Parabellum (the title is explained by the wonderful Ian McShane).....



(For reasons we're not too sure about, we got sidetracked while writing this — not a usual state of affairs for sure, and almost certainly connected to a bump in the old mental health road. Concentrating on something is a bit of a bugger when the brain isn't playing ball, and completing tasks becomes harder because that takes effort and not doing it is the easy option. Leaving what was going to be a fun, witty, engaging review gathering dust like Bradford's city centre after the financial crash of 2008. But we digress again. Onwards....)



The point we really wanted to make when we started banging on about JWC3P (seriously, who is naming these things?) was the ballet angle.

It's the thing that leaps from the screen, way before the point is laboured.

Each fight scene is beautifully choreographed, exquisitely timed, basically pure physical poetry — and it's these scenes that make the movie.

Sure, there's a plot. There are other characters (McShane is as good as ever, turns out Halle Berry wasn't busy, oh look Fishburn is back...), there are dogs, there are jokes.

And there's Keanu being all Keanu, not pretending to be young, fit and healthy, but a normal 40+ guy who has heard of the gym but was busy that day.

And this is one of the reasons the JW films are so watchable.

There's a middle-aged guy in a suit, getting out of breath and beaten up, but somehow coming out on top.

He rides bikes, drives cars, takes people out with a horse (a fantastically bonkers fight sequence), says stuff, hits folks, shoots a lot of people and ends up looking like we all would if we'd done half that.

Mind you, there's a reason the fight scenes are as good as they are.

They have to be.

Because away from the all the punchy-punchy shooty-shooty fighty dog horse bonanza, they try and add plot.

And this is where the wheels start to come off.

Between each set-piece, Wick has to Go Places and Do Stuff and See People, all of which is leaden and dull.

It's as if the cast, crew and writers don't care about it any more than we do, but feel obliged to chuck it in to fill out the running time (a daft two hours plus change).

I get that they thought maybe they should do something different this time, but they ticked that box with the horse.

No one wants plot.

The John Wick films shouldn't, by any rational measure, work — but they do, and that is down to Keanu and his totally believable portrayal of an assassin having a bad day.

We go and watch them to see endless fights, blood, limbs flying everywhere, and leave grinning like idiots because it's all such damn, dumb fun.

We just need a fast-forward button for this chapter.