REVIEW: Masters of the Universe (2026 Film) - Starring Nicholas Galitzine and Jared Leto

Review by Jon Donnis

The return of Masters of the Universe to live action arrives with a confidence that feels earned rather than forced. This second adaptation of Mattel’s sword-and-sorcery franchise leans heavily into its roots, picking up the familiar thread of Prince Adam, the Sword of Power, and the fractured world of Eternia under Skeletor’s rule. After being sent to Earth as a teenager and separated from his past for 15 years, Adam is drawn back into his destiny, discovering a ruined kingdom and a resistance struggling to survive under tyranny.

What follows is a straightforward but energetic fantasy adventure that rarely loses sight of what made the original material endure. The film understands its own heritage and is unashamed about it. There is a playful, almost nostalgic rhythm to the way Eternia is presented, as if the filmmakers have finally embraced the fact that this world works best when it feels like myth filtered through childhood imagination. Nicholas Galitzine’s Adam carries the emotional arc with a grounded performance, even if he could be more muscular to truly fit the role, while Idris Elba brings weight and authority to Duncan, giving the film a steady moral centre. Camila Mendes as Teela fits neatly into the action-driven dynamic, keeping the pace moving even when the story briefly settles.

The biggest talking point, unsurprisingly, is Jared Leto’s Skeletor. He leans into theatrical menace and biting humour, creating a villain who constantly threatens to steal focus from every scene he enters. There is a mocking irreverence to the performance that fits the tone of the film, keeping things just the right side of comic book excess without tipping into parody. The action itself is frequent and well staged, with moments that feel pulled directly from playground imagination rather than grounded realism, which works in its favour.

That sense of fun is the film’s strongest asset. It captures the spirit of the 1980s cartoon era without becoming trapped by it. The story mixes familiar lore with new narrative threads in a way that feels accessible, even for viewers who have no attachment to the franchise. It never takes itself too seriously, and that decision gives it a lightness that keeps the momentum steady through its longer stretches.

However, the film is not without its flaws. At two hours and fifteen minutes, it runs longer than it needs to, particularly in the middle sections where the pacing becomes uneven. There is also an overreliance on CGI, which, while technically strong, occasionally overwhelms the more grounded character moments. Some sequences would have benefited from restraint, allowing the performances to breathe rather than competing with constant visual spectacle.

Despite these issues, the film lands its emotional beats in the final act. The transformation of Adam into He-Man feels earned rather than rushed, and the final confrontation with Skeletor carries enough weight to justify the build-up. The ending restores a sense of balance to Eternia, with Queen Marlena re-established as ruler and Adam finally accepted as its protector. The post-credit moments tease further expansion, and that is all I will say!

As a whole, Masters of the Universe succeeds because it commits fully to what it is. It is loud, colourful, occasionally messy, but consistently entertaining. It feels designed for audiences who grew up with the franchise but still wants to be accessible to newcomers. Mainstream critics may struggle with its tone, but viewers looking for straightforward fantasy spectacle will likely find plenty to enjoy.

It is not perfect, but it understands its purpose. On balance, it is a solid, enjoyable return to Eternia, carried by strong performances and a clear affection for the source material.

I score Masters of the Universe a solid 8.5 out of 10.

Out In Cinemas Now!

REVIEW: The Xenophobes (2026 Film) - Starring Svetlana Tulasi

Review by Jon Donnis

Independent science fiction often lives or dies on the strength of its ideas. When the budget is tiny and the resources are limited, there is nowhere to hide. The Xenophobes, directed by Hal Dace and Penny Cullers, certainly falls into that category. This is an ultra low budget production that wears its limitations on its sleeve, but beneath the rough edges lies a thoughtful story about first contact, time dilation, fear of the unknown and what it truly means to become an outsider.

The story follows Captain Shriya Ballah, played by Svetlana Tulasi, who leads an international crew on humanity's first diplomatic mission to Gliese 849d, the first confirmed home of intelligent alien life. Knowing that the journey will test not only the crew but also her own family, she brings her husband and two daughters aboard the Jerusalem. What follows is a mission that changes everything, both for those making the journey and for the Earth they eventually return to.

One of the film's greatest strengths is its unusual structure. The Xenophobes is very much a film of two distinct halves. The first focuses on the long journey through space, the hostile reception awaiting the crew and the difficult attempts to establish communication with the alien civilisation. The second half shifts to Earth after the crew return to discover that while only twelve years have passed for them, sixty years have passed back home.

This approach works remarkably well. The contrast between the two halves highlights just how quickly societies can change and how easily someone can become a stranger in their own world. The film's title takes on a clever new meaning as the story unfolds. The crew leave Earth to meet aliens, only to return and discover that they have become the outsiders. They are now the ones viewed with suspicion and expected to conform to a society they barely recognise.

Svetlana Tulasi delivers the strongest performance in the film. My wife recognised her immediately and already follows her on social media due to her work as a dancer. She brings genuine presence to the role of Captain Ballah and gives the film a central figure worth investing in. Her performance helps carry the story through some of its weaker moments and demonstrates clear screen charisma throughout.

The production's tiny budget is impossible to ignore, but it also creates some unexpectedly entertaining moments. The spacecraft interiors are full of furniture that looks suspiciously familiar. Many of the crew appear to be sitting on ordinary office or gaming chairs, while one amusing moment makes it clear that the captain herself is sitting on what appears to be a simple wooden dining chair. Combined with some sets that look hand painted, these moments produced more than a few laughs. Whether intentional or not, there is a certain charm to seeing filmmakers stretch every penny as far as possible.

The second half of the film benefits enormously from returning to Earth. Freed from the need to constantly rely on green screens and computer generated environments, the production is able to make use of real locations. The result is a noticeable improvement in the overall look of the film. Scenes feel more natural, more convincing and generally far stronger visually than much of what comes before.

Unfortunately, the weaknesses are just as obvious as the strengths.

Even allowing for the limitations of an ultra low budget production, many of the effects look extremely dated. Space sequences in particular can be difficult to take seriously, with visuals that often appear more distracting than immersive. It is hard not to reflect on how quickly technology has changed. Had this film been made a few years later, modern AI tools might have allowed some of these scenes to be realised far more effectively. Instead, the visual effects often feel like relics from a much earlier era of digital filmmaking.

The extensive use of green screen backgrounds during the first half also hurts the production. Combined with the weak CGI, it frequently reminds viewers of the film's limited resources rather than drawing them into the story.

The running time is another issue. At two hours, The Xenophobes asks a lot of its audience. There is enough interesting material here to justify a substantial film, but a tighter edit would almost certainly have improved the pacing. Several scenes feel longer than necessary, and trimming some of the excess could have resulted in a stronger final product.

The Xenophobes is a film that requires the right mindset. Anyone expecting polished effects, convincing spacecraft interiors or blockbuster production values will likely struggle. Those elements simply are not the point. The real focus is the story, the themes and the questions the film raises about fear, conformity and identity.

Viewed through that lens, there is plenty to appreciate. The concept is interesting, the message is thoughtful and the central performances help sell the material. Most importantly, the film understands what it wants to say and remains committed to those ideas throughout.

Svetlana Tulasi emerges as the standout. She has genuine star quality and it is easy to imagine her thriving if given larger opportunities in the future.

I enjoyed The Xenophobes. The ultra low budget presentation will undoubtedly put some viewers off, but I grew up watching science fiction films and TV shows just like this throughout the 1990s. I have no interest in dismissing a film simply because it lacks expensive special effects. If nothing else, there is a certain pleasure in spotting the little details hidden in the backgrounds and appreciating the ingenuity required to bring such an ambitious project to life.

Independent filmmakers willing to tackle big science fiction concepts on a literal shoestring budget deserve support. The Xenophobes may not be polished, and it may not always succeed, but its ambition, heart and ideas make it far more memorable than many larger productions that cost vastly more to make.

Out Now on Prime Video - https://amzn.to/3RGFIzj

The Best Film Adaptations of Books That Improved on the Source Material

Books and films are different animals. Most readers know the frustration of watching a beloved story get flattened on screen. But occasionally, not often, maybe one adaptation in twenty, the film does something the book couldn't. It finds a new angle. It cuts the fat. It trusts the audience in ways the original author didn't.

This is that rare list.

Available at https://amzn.to/4aidIbt

The Godfather: From Pulp to Poetry

Mario Puzo's 1969 novel sold millions of copies. It was entertaining, fast-paced, and full of plot. It was not, however, a masterpiece. Puzo himself admitted he wrote it for money. Francis Ford Coppola took that material and turned it into something else entirely, a film widely considered one of the ten greatest ever made.

The 1972 film stripped out subplots that cluttered the book. Gone was the long digression about a Hollywood producer. What remained was pure family tragedy, shot in shadow and amber light. Marlon Brando delivered a performance no page could contain.

What Coppola Understood That Puzo Didn't

The novel explains too much. Characters describe their feelings at length. Coppola trusted silence, close-ups, and Gordon Willis's dark cinematography instead. The famous baptism scene, intercut with murders, has no equivalent in the book. That decision alone elevates the film into art.

Critics haven't missed this distinction. The film holds a 97% approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes. The book is rarely included in serious literary discussion. Same story, very different legacy.

Jaws: Cutting What Didn't Work

Peter Benchley's 1974 thriller had a serious problem: the characters were unlikable. Chief Brody's wife had an affair with the marine biologist. The mayor was tied to the mob. There were subplots about town politics that dragged the pace to a crawl.

Steven Spielberg removed nearly all of it. He focused on three men on a boat, a shark, and mounting dread. The result was the first film to gross over $100 million at the box office, a number that, adjusted for inflation, exceeds $500 million today.

Three Characters Instead of Ten

If you have a reading app, read the book yourself; it greatly complements the film's plot. The film has even inspired other online novels, which can be found on the FictionMe platform. Most curiously, even Benchley admitted that the film improved his book.

The triangular dynamic between Brody, Quint, and Hooper, outsider, local, expert, gave the story an emotional shape it never had in print. The "Indianapolis speech" Robert Shaw delivers at night below deck was added for the film. It became one of the most quoted monologues in cinema history.

Nothing like it exists in the novel. The film invented its own heart.

Fight Club: Tightening the Spiral

Chuck Palahniuk's 1996 novel is raw and funny and nihilistic. It works. But David Fincher's 1999 adaptation found visual tricks that turned the unreliable narrator into something genuinely disorienting, and more effective. Single frames of Tyler Durden appear before he is introduced. The narrator flickers. The audience is manipulated without knowing it.

That's a purely cinematic trick. Words can't do it.

A Different Kind of Unreliable

The novel tells you it's playing games. The film hides it better. Fincher added visual corruption throughout, brief flashes, slight color shifts, that prime the viewer for the reveal without announcing themselves. The ending also diverges slightly, landing with more emotional punch.

The film grossed only $37 million on initial release. Over two decades later it's considered a cult classic, routinely ranked among the best American films of the 1990s.

Blade Runner: Philosophical Depth from Sparse Source Material

Philip K. Dick's 1968 novel "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?" is a fascinating, messy philosophical puzzle. Although nearly 60 years have passed, AI has emerged, there's the FictionMe iOS app, and autonomous cars, the book's questions are still relevant. Ridley Scott's 1982 adaptation kept the core question, what makes us human? but built an entirely new world around it. The neon Los Angeles rain. The spinner cars. Rutger Hauer's final monologue.

None of that is in the book. Scott added a visual language Dick never wrote.

The Tears in Rain

Dick's novel features a subplot involving a fake religion called Mercerism that takes up significant page space. The film dropped it entirely. What replaced it was mood, dense, oppressive, beautiful. Ridley Scott turned a mid-tier science fiction story into a film that changed how cinema depicted the future.

Studies on the film's influence are extensive. More than 40 years later, its visual design is still directly referenced in major releases.

Shawshank Redemption: From Novella to Cultural Touchstone

Stephen King's novella "Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption" is about 100 pages long. It's good. Frank Darabont's 1994 adaptation runs 142 minutes and is one of the highest-rated films in history, sitting at the top of IMDb's user rankings for years with over 2.8 million votes.

The novella sketches the story. The film breathes life into it.

What Length Allows

Darabont's script expanded the friendship between Andy and Red in ways the short form couldn't support. Morgan Freeman's narration adds warmth the page never quite achieved. The final beach scene, the reunion, the sense of earned freedom, all of it lands harder on screen than in print.

King himself praised the adaptation without reservation. Not every author can say that about Hollywood's handling of their work.

What These Films Have in Common

Each one removed something. The Godfather cut subplots. Jaws cut characters. Fight Club cut the reader's certainty. Blade Runner cut a religion. Shawshank cut nothing, it only added.

Great adaptations don't preserve books. They interrogate them. They ask: what is this story actually about? Then they answer that question better than the source material did.

That's a harder job than writing the book. Sometimes, just sometimes, the filmmakers pull it off.

REVIEW: Propeller One-Way Night Coach (2026 Film) - Directed by John Travolta

Images courtesy of APPLE TV 

Review by Jon Donnis

John Travolta's directorial debut arrives in an unusual package. Running for just 61 minutes, Propeller One-Way Night Coach could easily have felt slight or underdeveloped. Instead, it proves that a modest story, told with care and attention to detail, can leave a surprisingly lasting impression.

Based on Travolta's own 1997 children's novel, the film follows young aviation enthusiast Jeff as he and his mother Helen travel from New York to Los Angeles during the closing days of 1962. What begins as a simple cross-country flight gradually becomes a defining moment in both of their lives. Along the way they encounter memorable passengers, kind-hearted flight attendants and a series of unexpected experiences that shape Jeff's future.

One of the film's greatest strengths is its remarkable sense of authenticity. From the aircraft interiors to the uniforms, airport terminals and social attitudes of the era, everything feels lovingly recreated. The production never draws attention to its period detail for the sake of nostalgia alone. Instead, it uses the setting to immerse viewers in a vanished age of air travel, when flying still carried a sense of wonder and glamour.

The film also succeeds because of how carefully it observes its characters. Jeff's fascination with aviation could easily have become repetitive, but Clark Shotwell gives the role an earnest charm that makes his enthusiasm infectious. Through his eyes, every aircraft, every stopover and every interaction becomes an adventure. The script understands that childhood memories often attach themselves to seemingly small moments, and it builds much of its emotional power from that idea.

Kelly Eviston-Quinnett delivers a warm and understated performance as Helen. Her relationship with Jeff provides the emotional anchor throughout the journey. While she dreams of pursuing an acting career in Hollywood, the film never turns her ambitions into melodrama. Instead, it quietly explores a mother balancing her own hopes with the responsibility of raising a child.

Ella Bleu Travolta and Olga Hoffmann both leave strong impressions despite relatively limited screen time. Hoffmann's Liz brings unexpected emotional depth to the story, particularly through conversations that reveal her difficult past. Meanwhile, Ella Bleu Travolta's Doris embodies much of the film's gentle optimism. Her interactions with Jeff are sweet without becoming overly sentimental, and she becomes a key figure in shaping the boy's future.

What makes Propeller One-Way Night Coach particularly effective is its willingness to focus on ordinary moments. There are no villains, no major crises and very little conventional conflict. Instead, the film finds drama in human connection. A conversation during a flight. A broken toy aeroplane. A chance meeting between strangers. These moments accumulate naturally, creating a surprisingly rich portrait of lives crossing paths.

The humour is equally understated. Small observations, awkward encounters and Jeff's endless curiosity generate a steady stream of gentle laughs. The film never chases easy jokes, allowing its warmth and wit to emerge organically from the characters.

Perhaps most impressively, the story manages to cover an enormous emotional landscape within its brief running time. Themes of childhood wonder, ageing, ambition, loss, friendship, romance and legacy all find a place here. Yet the film never feels rushed. Travolta demonstrates a confident understanding of pacing, knowing exactly which moments deserve attention and which can be left implied.

That said, the film is not without shortcomings. Some viewers may find the narrative almost too gentle. The lack of significant conflict means that certain sections risk feeling episodic, drifting from one encounter to the next without a strong sense of momentum. While this approach suits the nostalgic tone, audiences looking for a more traditional adventure may find themselves wanting greater dramatic stakes.

The supporting cast is also so appealing that several characters feel underserved. Liz, in particular, could easily have supported a larger storyline, while some of the relationships introduced during the journey are resolved rather quickly. The film's short running time is admirable in an era of bloated family entertainment, but there are occasions when a little extra breathing room would have been welcome.

Even so, these criticisms do little to diminish the overall experience. Propeller One-Way Night Coach understands exactly what it wants to be. It tells a simple story with confidence, filling it with enough detail and emotional honesty that the characters linger in the mind long after the credits roll.

This is an easy film to enjoy. Its nostalgic atmosphere is deeply appealing, its performances are sincere and its recreation of a bygone era is consistently convincing. Most importantly, it proves that family films do not need excessive spectacle or unnecessary filler to leave an impact.

Propeller One-Way Night Coach is a charming, thoughtful and genuinely entertaining family adventure that captures the magic of aviation and the importance of seemingly ordinary moments. At just over an hour, it remains engaging throughout and should hold the attention of younger viewers while offering plenty for adults to appreciate.

Score: 8 out of 10

Out Now on Apple TV - https://apple.co/4x52DV3

REVIEW: Mortal Kombat II (2026 Film) - Starring Karl Urban

Review by Jon Donnis

Picking up the threads from the 2021 instalment, this sequel leans fully into the tournament chaos, throwing Earthrealm’s champions into a darker, louder, and more unashamedly video game version of interdimensional war. At its centre is Johnny Cage, a washed-up martial arts actor pulled into Raiden’s desperate defence of Earthrealm, and Karl Urban gives the role a wry, self-aware edge that helps hold the film together even when everything else is flying fists and fractured alliances.

The strongest part of the film is its action. The combat sequences land with impact, staged with a clarity and aggression that suits the source material. There is a rough, physical energy to the fights that feels intentionally old school, closer in spirit to 1990s martial arts cinema than modern glossy fantasy action. That choice works in its favour. The film never tries to sand down the brutality, and fans of the games will find plenty of familiar moves, characters, and finishing blows brought to life with a willingness to go as far as the material demands.

There is also a clear sense of fun running through the whole thing. Mortal Kombat II never takes itself too seriously, and that balance of gore and humour gives it a strange but effective rhythm. Johnny Cage’s presence adds levity without undermining the stakes, while the wider ensemble cast keeps the energy moving even when the story threatens to become overloaded. For fans of the franchise, the sheer density of characters and references will feel like a reward in itself, with more fighters and deeper cuts from the lore than any previous film in the series.

Visually and tonally, it embraces its identity fully. It is loud, bloody, and deliberately a bit rough around the edges, like a studio production that has decided polish is less important than personality. That aesthetic choice will not appeal to everyone, but it gives the film a distinctive texture that sets it apart from more restrained modern action releases.

That said, it is not without problems. The pacing is uneven, with stretches that feel slightly stretched out before snapping back into intensity. At around an hour and forty five minutes, it still manages to feel longer in places, particularly when the narrative shifts between multiple factions and betrayals. The story itself is dense, occasionally overstuffed, and can lose momentum as it juggles too many character arcs at once.

It is also very clearly a film that will divide opinion depending on familiarity with the source material. Fans of the games and the genre are likely to embrace its excess, while mainstream critics who are less invested in the franchise may find it noisy and chaotic. It does not make much effort to soften its edges or explain itself to newcomers, and that will inevitably narrow its appeal. (Basically ignore the mainstream critics, for what do they know).

Even so, the overall experience lands firmly on the positive side. Mortal Kombat II understands its identity, embraces its brutality, and commits fully to being a spectacle-driven martial arts fantasy. It is gory, it is playful, and it looks and feels like a throwback in the best possible way. Despite its uneven pacing, it delivers enough energy and entertainment to justify its existence.

On balance, it is a strong sequel that knows exactly what its audience wants and delivers it with conviction. A solid 8.5 out of 10.

Out In Cinemas Now!