Bringing Dinosaur Boy Back to Life

Sometimes, the most unexpected treasures turn up when you’re tidying. In my case, it wasn’t loose change in the sofa or an old photo album at the back of a drawer—it was a half-finished book draft hidden away in my nan’s house. We came across it while sorting through her things after she passed, and tucked between notebooks and papers was a story called Dinosaur Boy.

Nan wasn’t new to writing—she’d even self-published a collection of short stories in her time—but this was something different. Dinosaur Boy was clearly a work-in-progress, probably sitting at a first or second draft. But even in its rough form, you could feel her voice leaping off the page. And as I read on, I noticed that she’d written all her grandchildren into the story.

That’s when it really hit me. Here was this funny, whimsical adventure Nan had created, starring us - her family. I even had a role myself as the mischievous toddler who whines and throws food at people’s heads.

The draft needed some love, so I rolled up my sleeves. I polished it up - tightened the story, smoothed the pacing, and gave it the finishing touches I think Nan would have wanted. Then, using Kindle Direct Publishing, I was able to bring Dinosaur Boy out into the world, not as some forgotten manuscript in a drawer, but as a real, published book that anyone can read.

It feels like the most fitting tribute: her words, her imagination, and her humour kept alive and shared.

Lights, Camera, Liability: My Filmmaking Adventures at Admiral

When you think of insurance, you don’t immediately picture green screens, costumes, and musical numbers. But during my time at Admiral, I had the joy (and occasional chaos) of turning corporate life into something a little more… cinematic.

First up on the production slate: the LDT’s very first birthday. Instead of cake and balloons, I got to celebrate the occasion behind the camera, filming a promotional interview video to highlight their work. I handled everything from producing to the actual filming — ensuring that the department’s energy and achievements shone through on screen. A simple idea transformed into a polished piece that captured the team’s personality and growth in just one year.

But the real showstopper? A company-wide competition entry that spiralled into something nobody could have predicted: Liability the Musical.

Yes, you read that correctly. Ten glorious minutes of cheesy, jukebox-style musical theatre, created in the spirit of workplace fun and cross-department rivalry. I wrote the script, produced the show, and wielded the camera — but I didn’t stop there. With costumes, green screen effects, and even a cheeky cameo appearance from yours truly, we pulled together a mini production that was equal parts ridiculous and unforgettable.

The result? A celebration of teamwork, creativity, and the kind of office culture that proves work can be both productive and playfully bonkers.

Binding Eva

I just spent a whirlwind weekend filming Binding Eva, a project I'm thrilled to be producing. I can't share too many spoilers (yet!), but I can say it was a weekend packed with early mornings, late nights, and an uncountable amount of tree twappings in the face! I didn’t take many pictures, but the few I managed to take are above.

Our cast and crew really pulled together to bring the story to life, especially given some... let’s say "adventurous" location challenges. Picture a team of dedicated people hauling equipment up a steep hillside that was more mud than path, all for that one perfect shot. The weather was mostly cooperative, but we had a few surprises that kept us on our toes.

Working with this team has been nothing short of inspiring. The actors gave their all with every take, and the crew was incredibly resourceful, finding solutions for any hiccup that came up. Honestly, it's weekends like these that remind me why I love film.

We're Still Talking About The Hunger Games in 2022?

Now I'm an absolute fiend for 3 things. 1) Twiglets. 2) Any type of electronics that are in a weird shape - it is a brag when I say I have a television in the shape of Mac from Cars (yes, I will attach a photo (and no, it doesn't seem to heighten my chances of getting a boyfriend but I still love it)). 3) And dystopian media.

The blueprint for modern day dystopian media has got to be The Hunger Games (2012 -2015), or THG, which is what I will be referring to it as. It has to be.

Yet, I have a tendency to believe those who are unaccustomed to the franchise and had only heard about it when the films were coming out in the mid-10's often misconstrue what the story is. Just as The Capital does within Panem, the Hollywood media presented Katniss’ tale as one of love, not rebellion.

Coming straight off the hype of Twilight, THG was sold to teenage girls as one of those “ooh, which boy will she pick? The grumpy bad boy or the kind blond haired one” and, on a base level, it can easily fit into those categories.

Gale and Peeta follow those tropes, except for the fact that Gale Hawthone is an actual war criminal, and as that couple on Gogglebox said, ‘We do love a bad boy but not a f***ing terrorist, Chris.’

Seriously, if you were ‘Team Gale’, I will never trust you!

But there is so much more to it than that. At its core, it’s another YA novel concerned with a young teen girl who has to step up and become a symbol for a higher cause. Consider Clary Fray from Mortal Instruments (or don’t, because that book series is based on Ron x Ginny incest fanfiction, which is extremely odd) or Lucy Pevensie from The Chronicles of Narnia.

Hollywood makes so much content for teenage girls. Just look at how popular the Pitch Perfect franchise was. And Twilight, for that matter. Still, I remember being a snot nosed 11-12 year old and eagerly waiting to read THG since it was one of those books that didn’t talk down you.

Susan Collins was accessible to young minds but was packed to the brim with progressive ideologies about free speech and totalitarian powers. It was a perfect introduction to politics for a secondary school kid.

No wonder this generation is so outspoken about politics and the govenment; we grew up being able to spot the President Snow’s and Coin’s from the common man, which is a cringy sentiment now that I’ve read this aloud... But my point still stands.

Spoiler Alert! You don’t win the games. You survive. If you’re Katniss, you work your ass off and become the visual embodiment of liberation in the face of martial law and oppressive institutions.

If you’re Peeta, you paint yourself with the decorating skills you acquired in your family bakery to look like some rocks.

And if you’re Gale, you throw some nukes at your own team’s medics.

Also, watch the Starviing Games parody movie. It is so dumb and stupid, and I love it, especially Peeta’s cake scene. You’ll know when you get there.

That's A Disgusting Pizza Topping

HAIM, Phillip Seymore Hoffman Jr, and Paul Thomas Anderson: What could go wrong? Let’s get into the problems with Licorice Pizza.

Paul Thomas Anderson and his team perfectly capture the feeling of 1970's California: the music; the costumes; Bradley Cooper’s charmingly insane Jon Peters, who was - at the time - Barbra Streisand’s hairdresser and partner.

Fun fact about the real Peters: in 2020, he was married to pamela anderson for 12 days before she filed for divorce

Acting wise, zilch. No issues there either.

Alana Haim is a natural in front of the camera, and Cooper Hoffman clearly takes after his father in the talent department. It is truly insane that this is both of their debuts. Haim holds her own against the legend that is Sean Penn with ease. And Hoffman exudes charisma as the quick-talking teenage actor turned businessman, Gary Valentine. Cool name; cool guy.

So, what's the problem?

Many viewers have pointed out that the film may trivialise Japanophobia. That word means exactly what it looks like. Certain scenes contain the character of Jerry Frick, another character based on a real-life person, mocking his Japanese wife's accent. Frick was a Los Angeles businessman who opened the Mikado Hotel and restaurant in 1963, where he popularised Japanese cuisine in the California Valley.

Unfortunately, anti-Japanese sentiment was used openly and frequently in the 1970s, so it is in accordance with the time period.

Whether you think that excuse justifies the not-so-casual racism is completely up to you.

Personally, I lean towards the argument that it was an unnecessary addition as it was not relevant to the story as a whole and did nothing to develop the characters or narrative progression.

It seemed like it was racism as 'world building' but Anderson decided to focus on a completely different world. A world that was focused on the trivial lives of upper-middle class white and Jewish families.

Or maybe it was so the few racists at the back of the movie theatre could get a few hoarse, obnoxious laughs in. Only Paul Thomas Anderson truly knows.

However, there is another ideological issue that the film broadcasts front and centre: the story is a romance tale between a 15-year-old boy - played by Hoffman, aged 18 - and a 25-year-old woman (there is also an offhand comment that she is lying about her age and she actually is 28) - played by 30 year-old Haim. At least, they've got a decade between them.

The love story is played as a ute, male fantasy of this suave boy coming of age by tempting this older woman into his clutches. Instead of a taboo relationship that consists of manipulation and grooming.

Licorice Pizza looks at the subject of grooming through those hipster 70's style heart shaped rose tinted glasses.

It frames female predatory behaviour as a step towards becoming a man. That is the main focus of the movie.

In the beginning, Gary Valentine makes it his mission to sweep Alana Kane (Haim) off her feet. Spoiler alert! By the end, he does that. His goal has been achieved for the sake of a healthy relationship.

Plus, there is a lot of running. I don't understand why. They had cars in the 1970s. It makes me feel out of breath just watching it.

The Peanut Butter Falcon

To start this article off with an interesting, drunken fact: did you know that Shia LaBeouf was arrested on public drunkenness charges while filming this in Savanah back in 2017? It appears to be a far cry from the Louis Stevens of Even Stevens (2000-2003), whom l recall watching reruns of on CITV when I was nine years old.

The TV and movie industries have a rather demeaning and downright offensive trend of casting able-bodied actors as characters with disabilities.

From Dustin Hoffman as Raymond, an autistic soon-to-be millionaire, in Rain Man allowed Hoffman to bag his second Oscar—to Artie Abrams of Glee (Kevin McHale), a wheelchair-bound singing superstar that could've been utilised better if he took over as one of the main characters. I guess Ryan Murphy was too busy mollycoddling Leah Michelle to give us anything interesting with Artie. Or Mercedes (Amber Riley), for that matter. Glee rant aside, I will have to stop now or else the article will be an in-depth look into the many misdeeds of Mr Shue (Matthew Morrison) and the creative team that developed such a cursed character.

These representations of disabled individuals are superficial And, it often comes off as hollow offensive, or an actor's attempt to win awards for being 'brave' and 'speaking for marginalised communities'.

Taking an hour and a half to apply prosthetics to Jacob Tremblay in Wonder (2017) was unnecessary if they had actually cast a child actor with a mandibulofacial dysostosis (MED) disfigurement. The silver screen takes unneeded steps to ensure that those with disabilities don't get to contribute to how they are represented.

So, how does this relate to the so-called 'Peanut Butter Falcon' that this silly little article is about? Well, I'll tell you, you impatient so a so. Have you ever wanted to watch a movie about an American wrestler who goes on a journey, travelling from state to state, with his good buddy Shia and Dakota Johnson? Now you can. Oh, and I should mention that the wrestler has Down syndrome and is played by Zack Gottsagen, an actor with Down syndrome.

Zak (Zack Gottsagen) runs away from his care home with the help of some of the old folks there in search of The Salt Water Redneck, the wrestling school of his dreams. Along the way, he begins travelling with an outlaw named Tyler (LaBcouf) and develops a strange allyship as Tyler poses himself as a survivalist mentor-type figure. A criminal Bear Grylls, if you will.

As road trip movies usually pan out, the pair encounters many trials and tribulations that attempt to roadblock the pair's journey to North Carolina, such as a vicious gang, the social workers, untrustworthy fellow wrestlers, and the brutal nature of the great outdoors.

At no point in the film does it ever portray Zak as anything but a young kid with a dream, which is probably due to the initial conception of the story. The directors, Tyler Nilson and Michael Schwartz, met a slightly younger Gottsagen at a camp for disabled people, where he professed his dream of becoming a movie star. The pair based the script around Zack and his big-time aspirations, and thus, The Peanut Butter Falcon was born.

I really do not want to give much away, as it is better to experience this movie with fresh eyes and an open mind. Be warned, it does contain language that may be distressing to some viewers.

But, I'll just leave you with the number one rule: PARTY!

Say Candyman 5 Times In The Mirror I DARE YOU.

It is a pet peeve of mine when people announce that a movie is more socially relevant now than when it was first released. This declaration assumes that the issues brought up in the film somehow magically corrected themselves and that it's only in recent years that the issue has reared its problematic little head again. Social structures of oppression are sustained over decades, over centuries. This is the sentiment that has followed the cult classic Candyman (Bernard Rose, 1992) like a pseudo-progressive moth to a flame.

The tough issues of racial inequality are the main crux of the story. yet at no point in the last three decades has this issue faded, it's maintained the same level of relevancy since inequality has, unfortunately, persevered like Katie Hopkins career or The Sun's hatred for immigration. For example, the brutal police beating of Rodney King in 1991 is not dissimilar to the case of George Floyd last year. Same problem. 29 years apart.

The legend states that a white lynch mob attacked, mutilated and murdered a black artist after he fell in love with and impregnated a rich white man’s daughter

They covered him in bees, cut off his arm, and replaced it with the iconic bloody hook. If you say his name five times in the mirror, he will pop out and murder you by slicing you from groyne to throat with his trusty, rusty hook.

An easy way to survive this horror movie is to not say those words or look in the mirror. But our heroine, Helen, is too caught up in her investigation to even fathom this.

*Spoiler Warning for a 30 year old movie*

She invokes his name and, in doing so, creates a series of events where she indirectly (or directly, if you prefer that interpretation) causes the kidnapping of an innocent rottweiler, her best friend Bernadette (Kasi Lemmons), her psychiatrist, herself, and is responsible for the kidnapping of a little baby named Anthony.

All this unnecessary bloodshed was all because a white woman needed to finish her dissertation. She paid for her degree with her sanity and her life. That's a level of dedication that I will never be able to match and that's undoubtedly a good thing.

Let's hope sociology students don't take It upon themselves to delve deeper into the tale of the Swansea Devil because it could mean any one of us could be the newest victim of its unlucky curse.

Candyman's main goal throughout the 1992 film is to shape this naive grad student into his own image, thus making it so no one will want to help her, just as nobody helped him. Turning Candyman into a legend ensured that as long as his moniker lived on, so would he.

The classic phrase of “the wound may heal, but the scars will remain" has its own Candyman version. Tony Todd so delicately and creepily whispers as the titular Candyman, “I am a rumour. It is a blessed condition, believe me. To be whispered about at street comers. To live in other people's dreams but not to have to be."

To put even more simply, the person may perish, but the violence, pain and injustice live on in those who remember. And those who remember can never forget.

Now, as a little lass from the countryside whose complexion is akin to a vampire or 'Casper: The Friendly Ghost', I can't and shouldn't weigh in on black issues as I come from a completely different background and am, frankly, uneducated on the black experience. So, something that I, and everyone else who also has the same colouring as a sheet of paper, can do is to listen and adjust behaviour accordingly,

That is the bare minimum.

If you take anything away from this horror classic, and I hope you do, it is that in a climate where fear and stereotypes are branding people into rigid groups of children starving Tories and snowflake Liberals, Candyman portrays how willing we can be to vilify each other.

As cool as villains are, they only lead to more suffering, which isn't cool.

And, most importantly, that it would suck to be stung to death by bees

Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again Review

Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again (2018) is a strange movie. The mixture of bad singing, cheesy dialogue, and over-the-top clothing should not work. Yet it does on an entertainment level. This movie bridges the gap between middle-aged women, teen girls, and gay men, but it is far from a good film.

Lily James was absolutely fantastic as young Donna Sheridan—a perfect mix of spontaneity and foolish recklessness. However, the return of Meryl Streep was the highlight of the film. It was a painstaking wait for her to appear.

Or consider young Harry’s (Hugh Skinner) awfully British rendition of "Waterloo," which was the pinnacle of this movie. Get it? He’s singing "Waterloo" because that’s a British thing. Clearly, whoever planned that was a genius. Maybe young Harry was the best thing: he didn’t look anything like Colin Firth (and didn’t really sound like him either), and was obviously a big virgin who might be able to drive (unlike Cher Horowitz from Clueless) but definitely doesn’t have the right voice for ABBA or dance in any way that isn’t reminiscent of a drunk dad at a wedding. Clearly, perfect casting for a musical. But then again, these are the same people who cast Pierce Brosnan, so did we expect anything less?

Fight Club Review

Fight Club (1999) is regarded as one of the best films ever made, and rightly so. It is the perfect blend of gritty cynicism and extreme disdain for contemporary capitalist society.

One of my lecturers said that she thought it was the most overrated piece of misogyny she had ever seen. While it is clear that Marla Singer (Helena Bonham Carter) was written by men and used as romantic motivation for The Narrator (Edward Norton), on a more interpretive level, her appearance symbolizes conformity—or rather, anti-conformity. Marla is the heart of the anarchist movement, and subsequently, The Narrator.

Roger Ebert called this movie "macho-porn," and I could not agree with him more. It is long-form sardonic erotica with a heavy dose of male aggression. These factors are what drew the audiences in, but the stylized message against the corporate lifestyle is what they stayed for.

The Covenant Review

Well, this is a train wreck that I had an awfully good time watching. It’s a mess of lazy editing, lacklustre acting, and seriously outdated dialogue that wouldn’t be convincing in any era, even the wonderfully odd '00s.

I would have been 5 when this movie originally came out, and I am 100% sure my underdeveloped cranium could create a more coherent and structured storyline. JS Cardone should have stopped his career after creating The Slayer (1982).

The leading man, Steven Strait, as the stone-faced and snooze-worthy Caleb Danvers, lacks the charisma or acting ability to carry any of this film. He is there just to be a pretty face to attract teenage girls. As a teenage girl, I was not impressed. The rest of the cast sounds bored when delivering their lines, causing the first half of the movie to progress so slowly that I would have preferred it if Chase Collins (Sebastian Stan) had murdered them from the get-go.

Speaking of Mr. Stan, he is the gleaming light in this film. By camping it up, he elevates the film from “if I have to watch this for five more minutes, I’m going to slit my own wrists because the abyss of death will be much more interesting” to “maybe this is a comedy?” The random Little Miss Muffet monologue, “I’m going to make you my Wee-yotch!” and the homoeroticism are enough to save this film from the doomed fate of being a BTEC version of The Craft (1996) and me from slitting my wrists.