Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget (2023) 
Director: Sam Fell
Screenwriters: Karey Kirkpatrick, John O’Farrell, Rachel Tunnard
Starring: Bella Ramsey, Thandiwe Newton, Zachary Levi, Imelda Staunton, Lynn Ferguson, David Bradley, Jane Horrocks, Romesh Ranganathan, Daniel Mays, Josie Sedgwick-Jones, Peter Serafinowicz, Nick Mohammed, Miranda Richardson

On the surface, the original Chicken Run (2000) was a fantastic children’s movie and a feat for animated films. It was 90 minutes of pure feathery fun and righteous chicken anger. The movie had impeccable comedic timing akin to Aardman Studio’s other works like Wallace and Gromit and Shaun the Sheep. These movies have a beating heart and soul that has stuck with children and adults alike because of their ability to wrap us in the warm hug of their respective worlds. And still, beneath it all lies something even deeper, something profound. For many millennials and cuspers, Chicken Run was an introduction to Marxism and revolution itself. 

As rebel chicken, Ginger (played by Julia Sawalha in 2000) rallies the hens against tyrannical farmers, she dares them to imagine a world governed only by their own will. “Don’t you get it?” she clucks, “There’s no morning headcount, no dogs, no farmers, no coops and keys, and no fences.” It’s a powerful cry for revolution – a call to rise up against injustice, no matter the cost. Though the film is filled with slapstick humor, its demand to rage against oppression transcends the children’s animation genre, cementing it as a powerful allegory for World War II and universal demands for human (and chicken) rights. 

Needless to say, the sequel, Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget, was highly anticipated by audiences and critics. Nearly 20 years after the original, the follow-up had big shoes to fill. What lessons would the new Chicken Run teach us? Perhaps something about the rise of fascism? Environmentalism? Maybe it would lead us to the answers we’ve all been searching for in these tumultuous times? Unfortunately, Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget takes more of a formulaic follow-up approach than broaching anything remotely groundbreaking. 

In this rendition, Ginger (Thandiwe Newton) and Rocky (Zachary Levi, replacing Mel Gibson) return, now living in an idyllic, poultry utopia. Though they are happy in their new homes, they are closed off from the rest of society. Their daughter, Molly (Bella Ramsey), takes after her mother and dreams of life bigger than their confined existence on the island. Soon, Molly escapes to the mainland and finds herself trapped in a chicken factory called Fun-Land Farm. Now, it’s up to the other chickens to break into the factory, a subversion from the previous film’s breakout. 

Dawn of the Nugget isn’t completely without charm. The animation is beautiful and bright, stepping away from the original film’s muted color palate to favor a more vibrant chicken paradise. Fun-Land Farm is garishly bright, showcasing the false promises of the deceptively named poultry plant. Even the heist-like stunts feel higher stakes and more elaborate. There are more hijinks, slipping, falling, and scrambling than ever. 

Though the scale feels dialled up to 11, the film is missing its original creativity and simplistic but resilient spirit that made it an instant classic. Dawn of the Nugget is much more concerned with simple tropes like breaking away from tradition and marching to the beat of your own drum than anything revolutionary. Its simple premise and resistance to taking risks – both thematically and comedically – make the 101-minute run feel like a bit of a slog. 

It’s a lot to ask of a film – to be both a succinct manifesto about the state of modern politics and revolutionary movements and a hokey comedy about chickens falling on their heads – but it has been done before. Perhaps the reason Dawn of the Nugget felt so flat is the enormous shadow its predecessor casts upon the film. And, in the 20 years in between the first and second editions of Ginger and Rocky’s story, we’ve had plenty of time to fill in the gaps on our own. Dawn of the Nugget is a fine movie to turn on for the kids on a Saturday afternoon, but turn on Chicken Run (2000) and you might just have a revolution on your hands. 

Score: 12/24

Recommended for you: Aardman Animation Movies 2000-2020 Ranked

The Bubble (2022)
Director: Judd Apatow
Screenwriter: Judd Apatow, Pam Brady
Starring: Karen Gillan, Iris Apatow, Pedro Pascal, Leslie Mann, Fred Armisen, David Duchovny, Keegan-Michael Key, Kate McKinnon, Guz Khan, Peter Serafinowicz, Maria Bamford, Vir Das, Maria Bakalova

Judd Apatow has had a long, sturdy career in film and television comedies. His work, in films like Knocked Up and television shows like Freaks & Geeks, has often exhibited a naturalistic approach to its characters, with his masterful 2009 film Funny People even pointing his honest lens on success and aging within the entertainment industry. In his latest film, Netflix’s The Bubble, he broaches the subject of the entertainment industry again, this time focusing on a group of actors filming the sixth installment of a massive studio franchise – a series of dinosaur-themed action films called Cliff Beasts – in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic, and all the troubles that ensue within that challenging scenario. In a meta sense, though, there is an inherent issue with depicting the challenges of such a scenario when the challenges themselves are so uniquely unrelatable and unnecessary, especially in the context of a global pandemic. This is a flaw in the fabric of Apatow’s failed film industry satire that he is never quite able to overcome.

The satire in The Bubble feels deeply insecure, in the sense that it is far too obsessed with getting ahead of the audience’s perceptions of this film’s evident flaws instead of embracing a clear-eyed satirical perspective one way or the other. If the intention here is to make an Albert Brooks-style satire on Hollywood vanity — which is the most flattering read on this to have — then what Apatow fails to do is pin down whether we should be laughing at these characters or caring for them. When you can’t do that, especially when your film is centered around a pandemic that has negatively impacted the lives of millions, the best course of action is to adopt Gal Gadot’s tone-deaf “Imagine” video as a point of comparison and practice some self-awareness. As a film about shooting needless entertainment in the middle of a pandemic – which The Bubble is self-admittedly guilty of – any commentary on “mindless” blockbusters and how a “making movies is fun and isn’t that what it’s all about?” mindset is both harmful and wasteful, and is ultimately undone by this film’s own existence.

The only acute sense of self-awareness that The Bubble has to offer comes in the last scene where a few of the characters, referring to Cliff Beasts 6, say that the opening of their film is weak but maybe if the ending is strong it won’t matter as much. But not only is that another case of insecure satire trying to distance itself from its own criticisms towards soulless studio films, it is also barely true about The Bubble itself. This ending sting, in which we see the premiere of a documentary depicting the events that we saw, followed by the aforementioned conversation between characters, is reminiscent of the mid-credits scenes you’ll find in Adam McKay’s latest two films, Vice (2018) and Don’t Look Up (2021). One hopes that Apatow’s career is not heading in a similarly self-important and out-of-touch direction as McKay’s did, though The Bubble’s lazy and pointless ruminations on current events is not promising.

A major discrepancy between The Bubble and Apatow’s past work is the lack of naturalism here. Of course, the film’s meta-textually incorporates its extremely unnatural environment, so it is completely unintentional, but the issue remains even through the film’s attempts to focus on the private and personal moments of its characters, unfortunately. The Bubble also has the typical visual blandness of a Netflix original, with no differentiation between the film and the “disastrous” film within the film, which lends to its lack of naturalism. Worse yet, The Bubble is occupied with broad quips about how movie theaters may never exist again, so its embrace of Netflix’s uniform ugliness is yet another indication that this film has little respect for the art of film-making. 

Apatow has assembled a mostly promising ensemble of actors to portray the film’s cast and crew – including Karen Gillan, Pedro Pascal, Keegan Michael-Key, David Duchovny, as well as his mainstay cast/family members, wife Leslie Mann and daughter Iris Apatow – most of whom are portrayed as self-righteous, oblivious and phony. It’s difficult to explain the plot without breaking into several tangential descriptions of the film’s vignette-heavy structure, but it feels that in tandem with its thematic lack of focus, Apatow struggled to let the cast thrive together, instead relying on their existing talents and letting whatever happens happen. What’s odd, though, is that Apatow’s eye for talent is usually a source of his success. On top of essentially cementing the movie-star status of the likes of Seth Rogen, Jonah Hill, and more, his previous two directorial efforts – Trainwreck (2015) and The King of Staten Island (2020) – managed to be extremely charming, airy stories that centered on comedians who are generally controversial, if not outright disliked. Not to mention that his entire oeuvre is full of brilliantly-placed cameos and bit-parts that also function as Hollywood in-jokes (see: Lebron James in Trainwreck; Action Bronson in The King of Staten Island; the onslaught of celebrities playing themselves in Knocked Up and Funny People). All of this exhibits a unique understanding of talent that is missing in The Bubble, which still fills itself with awkward cameos and characters who show minimal understanding of current pop culture. 

Karen Gillan’s character is exemplary of the issue with The Bubble’s treatment of its characters at large. Portraying the returning star of the series, who skipped out on starring in the fifth entry only to find no success in other endeavors, she comes into this film full of insecurity and afraid that her co-stars will hate her. Being the ostensible lead, she also faces issues that encompass the intended themes and messages of the film overall, such as having a difficult time feeling connected to the film she is making as different elements are slowly removed and replaced due to budget constraints, studio interference and general on-set chaos. The returning question that lingers around her character, though, is whether the audience is meant to care for her or not. After an extremely dangerous on-set experience that left several cast and crew members injured, Gillan’s character tries to take to Iris Apatow’s character’s massive TikTok following, which Apatow doesn’t allow her to do because “no one wants to hear celebrities complain”. The problem is that this is the worst time in the film that such an argument could be brought up, because not only are unsafe working conditions in Hollywood an extremely real issue, but it’s additionally unclear whether we are meant to agree or not.

The reigning champions of The Bubble are the actors who play the non-celebrity workers on the film set, played by Samson Kayo, Maria Bakalova, Galen Hopper, and Harry Trevaldwyn. These newcomers are where you can feel Apatow’s eye for talent, and quite clearly should have been given greater focus within the film. Had the plot been centered around any one of these actors, grounding the film with folks who are being put in this unsafe position without the same benefits of fame and money, it could have erased many of the film’s uncomfortable issues, as well as injecting a fresh sense of humor into the project. The fact that Apatow literally casts his wife and daughter and yet it doesn’t feel like he can acknowledge his complicity or privilege, nor does it feel like he is interested in at least utilizing their relationship for sympathy, shows that his position as the rich director of this film is the cause for its lack of valuable perspective, which is felt all the way through its bloated 126 minute runtime.

7/24

Written by Nicholas Armstrong

You can support Nicholas Armstrong in the following places:

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Shaun of the Dead (2004)
Director: Edgar Wright
Screenwriters: Simon Pegg, Edgar Wright
Starring: Simon Pegg, Nick Frost, Kate Ashfield, Lucy Davis, Dylan Moran, Peter Serafinowicz, Rafe Spall, Bill Nighy

16 years after its release, Shaun of the Dead remains one of the best loved British comedies of the contemporary era; a release that, alongside its fellow Cornetto Trilogy entries Hot Fuzz and The World’s End, has had a profound effect on the British cinematic landscape.

The much loved sitcom ‘Spaced’ (1999-2001) launched the careers of its stars Simon Pegg and Nick Frost, as well as director Edgar Wright. Over the past two decades, the trio have all come to have considerable success on both sides of the Atlantic, with Pegg finding major roles in both the Mission: Impossible & Star Trek franchises, Frost starring in hits like Fighting with My Family, and Wright going on to direct cult favourites like Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World and 2017’s hugely successful Baby Driver.

Rewatching Shaun of the Dead following the success later achieved by those involved is fascinating as it offers glimpses behind the success of the aforementioned trio. The film focuses on Shaun (Pegg) and Ed (Frost), a pair of unhappy late 20s flatmates struggling to get by in London – there is also heavy focus on the struggling relationship between Shaun and his girlfriend Liz (Kate Ashfield). The early parts of the film play out almost like a buddy film, or a rom-com, such is the blend of laddish humour and focus given to Shaun and Liz’s relationship.

Coming fresh off the heels of ‘Spaced’ there are clear comparisons to be drawn, and Edgar Wright and Simon Pegg have mentioned how the show had a heavy influence on the film in many interviews over the years since, but much rather than it being a carbon copy of the cult favourite TV sitcom, these influences are minimal and help to provide the film with a degree of familiarity to those in-the-know, while never being overwhelming to those who aren’t – Pegg’s ‘Spaced’ co-star Jessica Hynes (then Stevenson) appears in a recurring cameo role for example, an element of Shaun of the Dead that is both in tribute to the filmmakers’ days on television but also unique to the film.

In addition, Shaun of the Dead is clearly made as a tribute to zombie and horror films, particularly those of horror icon George A. Romero – most obviously Dawn of the Dead (where this film got its name), itself a second entry into Romero’s own zombie movie series following Night of the Living Dead.

There are frequent examples underlining why Wright is seen as one of the most talented British directors of his generation in Shaun of the Dead. An extended tracking shot in the opening sequence following Shaun from his flat to the local shop is a fantastic piece of cinematography, and the choice to mirror this with the same shot later in the film once the world has been turned upside down by zombies is one that is both intelligently cinematic and truly funny. The misdirects early in the film are of the highest comedic sensibility too, with the use of imagery to evoke the pending zombie arrival providing some fantastic sight gags.

The humour is a huge part of what makes the film work and much of this comes down to the chemistry between Pegg and Frost. We are introduced to several recurring motifs from the rest of the Cornetto Trilogy with gags about shops, fence hurdling and pub fights all reappearing in some shape or form in Hot Fuzz and The World’s End. In spite of this, the screenplay of Wright and Pegg manages to blend more serious moments with its outright comedy, realising a surprising amount depth and character development for a film of its genre.

The use of music is crucial to many of Wright’s films, particularly Baby Driver, and Shaun of the Dead is no exception. Music is used to incredible effect, opening to The Specials’ “Ghost Town” and featuring multiple Queen tracks, “Don’t Stop Me Now” taking on a life of its own as the now iconic soundtrack to the pub brawl in the final act. In keeping with this marrying of music and film, one of the film’s best gags revolves around which of Shaun’s vinyl collection should be used as weapons against the Zombies, he and Ed having a back and forth regarding the importance of certain records as they fight off one of their slow but seemingly unstoppable foes.

Shaun of the Dead has amassed legions of fans in the 16 years since its release, with Empire Magazine placing it 6th in its list of Top 100 British Films and horror icon Stephen King dubbing it “10 on the fun meter and destined to be a cult classic”. It’s clear to see why this opening Cornetto Trilogy film has come to be so beloved and influential amongst comedy filmmakers, the first cinematic collaboration between Simon Pegg, Nick Frost and Edgar Wright being a superbly written and acted film that lays an outstanding platform from which the trio have reached to great heights; one of the earliest examples of Wright’s unique brilliance at blending humour and pathos.

19/24

Written by Christopher Connor

You can support Christopher Connor in the following places:

Twitter – @chrisconnor96

Going In Style (2017)
Director: Zach Braff
Screenwriter: Theodore Melfi
Starring: Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman, Alan Arkin, Ann-Margret, Matt Dillon, Joey King, Christopher Lloyd, John Ortiz, Peter Serafinowicz

Zach Braff has teamed Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman and Alan Arkin for OAP heist movie Going In Style (2017), a film that’s a lot less Dog Day Afternoon (1975) and a lot more The Heist (2015), though remains not without its merits.

Theodore Melfi’s screenplay adaptation of Edward Cannon’s 1979 story originally adapted to the screen by Martin Brest (Going In Style – 1979), tells the tale of three elderly men who take drastic action upon losing access to their pensions and being threatened with much worse. It is Caine’s Joe with whom the idea to rob the bank originates – a somewhat meta choice of casting given that one of the actor’s most iconic roles was in famed heist movie The Italian Job (1969) whereby he played the instigator and leader of a British heist team – when he is embroiled in an armed robbery of his local branch in the film’s opening moments.

It is Michael Caine’s character of whom the film centres around and his journey we are most welcomed to witness, a task the 84 year old actor manages to successfully bring the weight of his world class back catalogue of work to while remaining far removed from putting in one of his better performances. The same can be said of the performances of his co-stars Morgan Freeman and Alan Arkin, though it is the threesome’s chemistry as a self-consciously ageing group of “could-of-been” men that brings the film much of its wit and charm, truly its most defining features.

In many ways Going In Style plays a lot like 2013 comedy Last Vegas, also starring Morgan Freeman, in that it consciously works at a slower (dare I suggest “aged”) pace while remaining focused on its comedy and star power as a means of establishing empathy for its characters’ under-represented age group. Much like the 2013 film, Going In Style fills the screen with recognisable faces and comedy relief to better reinforce this, with Christopher Lloyd’s Alzheimer’s riddled side character being presented in a funny yet not disrespectful manner and Ann-Margret being on hand to portray the increasingly popular “sexually active Grandma” archetype, each of whom helped to give a small dose of nostalgia that made their characters noteworthy in this regard.

Visually, Braff offered very little in terms of creative flair in comparison to the work he displayed on passion projects Garden State (2004) and Wish I Was Here (2014), and presented the developments of the plot and the characters while being almost invisible in his role. This conscious absence to the storytelling helps to gift large portions of the film a real sense of honesty but offers very little in terms of contributions to the comedic or thrilling aspects of the picture, upon which a great deal of the film rests. Furthermore, the decision to edit together otherwise disconnected segments of the story via cut-shots of the New York skyline played more like a less meaningful version of the intrusive transition cards played before and after commercial breaks during TV detective dramas like ‘Law & Order’ than anything remotely cinematic.

Unfortunately for Braff and Going In Style, this was not the most intrusive element of the film however, as the picture’s musical accompaniment was at best distracting. Again playing out like some sort of skewed and unnecessary reference to TV cop dramas, Rob Simonsen’s contribution to the sound of the picture was perhaps the most disappointing feature as it was uninviting and often ghastly in its appeal. The musician, who had previously worked to an impressive level on the likes of Life of Pi (2012), Foxcatcher (2014) and even Braff’s previous picture Wish I Was Here (2014), didn’t seem close to hitting such heights at any stage during this movie and did little to work in opposition to the claim of Braff “painting by the numbers”. The quality of Simonsen’s work was of stark contrast to the rest of Braff’s feature-length productions as each of the director’s passion project feature-lengths have contained sensational musical accompaniment, with Garden State (2004) even winning awards for its use of its soundtrack.

Combining each of these elements with the glossy look of the movie’s picture (against all genre tropes) that works as a modern day signifier as to the low level of commitment the studio had to producing anything close to art, and the semi-committed approach the studios had to promoting the film, it seems clear that MGM and New Line Cinema set out to make nothing more than the paint-by-numbers picture this eventually became, though the effect it will have on Zach Braff’s once burgeoning career remains to be seen. Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman and Alan Arkin will, of course, take away much of the merit of the movie’s success for their above average deliveries and collective chemistry but, much like the aforementioned Last Vegas, Going In Style is an ultimately disposable movie.

10/24