Parky At the Pictures (28/8/2026)

(Reviews of Bitter Christmas; Hanging By a Wire; and Landship)

BITTER CHRISTMAS.

For his 24th feature, Pedro Almodóvar returns to Spanish in Bitter Christmas, after the English-language detours of the shorts, The Human Voice (2020) and Strange Way of Life (2023), and the 2024 feature, The Room Next Door, which had paired Tilda Swinton and Julianne Moore. A treatise on `art imitating life imitating art', it follows Pain and Glory (2019) in drawing on the highly distinctive director's own experience and, thus, doubles as a nested dissertation on artistic inspiration, creative licence, and the lingering relevance of la politique des auteurs.

Suffering with a migraine, director Elsa Rosado (Bárbara Lennie) has boyfriend Bonifacio (Patrick Criado) take her to hospital. She is admitted and insists on being placed in the room she had used in her second feature, as the patient occupying it had survived. Doctor García (Carmen Machi) is curious to know why Elsa uses the term `cult film' and asks if it has anything to do with Evangelicalism. The medic recognises Bonifacio (who is known as `Beau'), as the firefighter moonlights as a stripper at weekends and Dr García had seen him at a hen party.

We cut away from this scene in 2004 to Madrid in the present day, where Raúl Rossetti (Leonardo Sbaraglia) is writing a screenplay and he explains to assistant Mónica (Aitana Sánchez-Gijon) that he chose the year because it was when he had had his first panic attack. She informs him that she wants to take a sabbatical and leaves him in the care of his longtime boyfriend, Santi (Quim Gutiérrez).

Returning to his scenario, Raúl has Elsa remember seeing Beau for the first time when he had stripped at a nightclub. She had asked him to pose for an underwear commercial she was about to shoot and she had been amused by how coy he was about being filmed in his shorts when he had stripped in front of so many baying women. Watching him exercise on a cross-trainer, Elsa smiles at the fact that such a sweet man could have such an amazing body.

Having scribbled down how she feels in the margins of the book she's reading, Elsa feels grim enough to call her friend, Patricia (Vicky Luengo), to see if she has any painkillers. She recognises that Elsa is having a panic attack and agrees to book her an appointment with her psychiatrist. Patricia also suggests getting some pills from their mutual friend, Gabriela (Rossy De Palma), who is hosting a party when Else and Beau arrive. They are allowed to doze off in a quiet bedroom, although Gabriela reminds Beau that he had agreed to strip at one of her soirées. Singer Amaia Romero hears Elsa is there and comes (with her cellist) to sing her a sad Chavela Vargas song, which brings tears to her eyes.

Before she resigns, Mónica reminds to get out and live instead of devoting all his time to writing and filming. She tells him that she is leaving to help her ex-girlfriend Elena while her son has a tumour operation and Raúl promptly puts this into his screenplay, with Elsa getting a call from Natalia (Milena Smit), a model who has been in a bad way for two years, as she survived the car crash that killed her young son. Elsa had meant to call her, but the panic attack had distracted her.

She calls on Patricia, who thinks she has photographic proof of her husband's infidelity. They listen to a couple of Chavela songs that move them deeply before Patricia puts her phone in a glass of water when her spouse calls her. Having given her a pill to calm her down, Elsa goes to consult Dr Otero (María Morales). She confides that she has not been able to recover from the fact that her mother had died suddenly while she was shooting an underwear commercial and the psychiatrist suggests that she takes a vacation with someone other than Beau because she associates him with her bereavement.

Elsa takes Patricia and her young son with her to Lanzarote, with its black sand. Patricia feels neglected because Elsa is working and she's unamused to discover that her marital situation has inspired the story. She concedes that she likes listening to Elsa talk about her work, but she draws the line at having her life used for a movie.

Meanwhile, Mónica calls Raúl to tell him that her friend's son has died. She asks if she can see him to discuss her future plans and he agrees. While he's scouting locations in the Canary Islands, however. he receives another call from Mónica informing him that Elena has tried to kill herself with the pills she was taking for her depression. She decides to stay with her because they hope they have found a good psychiatrist.

In Lanzarote, Elsa gets drunk on white wine and tells Patricia that she has used her marriage problems for her new screenplay. She is appalled and is hurt when Elsa says that she had tried to give her a happy ending on the page because she's too much of a pushover to earn one in life. Patricia goes home and accuses Elsa of exploiting friendships in order to create films that nobody goes to see (as her first two features were flops that have done on to become cult hits). Cross-cuts show Elsa working on her script and Raúl writing about her doing so. She has a flashback to her final visit to her mother (Gloria Muñoz), who is pleased to see her, but knows she has to work. As Elsa gets up from her desk, Raúl types `The End'. Santi asks the read the manuscript and is warned that one of the characters has been based on him. As soon as Santi leaves, however, Raúl starts adding new scenes.

He has Elsa call Natalia and invite her to spend a few days at the villa. She explains that Patricia has left and insists that some time away will do her good. Clearly still grieving, Natalia doesn't want to talk about her emotions and feels even more upset when she sees a small boy at the restaurant who reminds her of her lost child. Making excuses to have an early night, Natalia takes an overdose and Else only finds her because she can't sleep. While in the ambulance, she gets a call from Beau, who had been planning to surprise her by flying out and he apologises for disturbing her, as he hangs up.

When Natalia wakes, she promises not to do anything similar again and asks Elsa to accompany her to Paris for her first photo shoot since the accident. Having asked if Elsa had heard the storm in the night, she describes a dream in which she had been unable to pack her suitcase and an older woman had done it for her. Elsa says that she would do the same if she had been in the dream and she reassures her that she will be there for her (as she had been moved by the fact that her final chat with her mother had also touched on thunder).

Somehow, Mónica gets to read the screenplay and threatens to ruin Raúl if he keeps the Natalia character because she has obviously been based on her girlfriend, Elena. They argue furiously and Raúl gets tetchy with Santi when he implies that Mónica has a right to be angry because he has drawn on her lover's tragedy. Warning Santi not to take sides, Raúl asks if he has ever told Mónica anything that she could ever use against him.

Refusing to be told what to write, Raúl meets Mónica in the park. He reminds her that he has not written a film in five years and has always used real-life episodes in his work. She sneers that there is a difference between autofiction and exploitation and he pleads with her to think like a film person and not someone with a grievance. She tells him to end the film where he had originally intended and sell it to Netflix because his best days are behind him and he's past being able to make the films he wants to make. Insulted, he insists the Natalia storyline is the logical conclusion and allows him to show, via the Elsa strand, how life and art interact. Mónica is unmoved, however, and Raúl declares that he won't allow her to ruin what could be his last chance at a decent contribution to a dying art.

She tells him that he should know this is a minor work at best and is clinging to the script out of pride because he has become desperate to remain active and relevant. Mónica also criticises him for undervaluing Santi and for treating Beau with the same indifference in the script. Raúl accuses her of being mean before realising that the story is actually about Mónica rather than anyone else and he's surprised it's taken him so long to base a character upon her. Welling up with bitter tears, Mónica turns to leave because she angry to have wasted 20 years on Raúl and fearful about what he is going to write and whether she has spared Elena pain after all.

Scribbling furiously on the back of the manuscript, as the park café closes, Raúl gets home and sits at his laptop. Elsa and Natalia look at each other, as if waiting for the direction he is about to send them in. Santi asks if he can read the first script, but he's refused and is asked to keep quiet so Raúl can write. He says he has no idea what will happen to Beau and won't until he's finished. Santi sidles off to let his partner work in peace.

On the surface, this is a clever piece of metatextual cinema that presents its ingenuity with a flourish. But Almodóvar gives the game away during Mónica's rant in the park, as the layers of self-flagellating self-reflexivity can't disguise the fact that Almodóvar is looking in the mirror and admitting to himself (and, by dint, us) that this intricate conceit dusts down familiar characters and readdresses old themes in an effort to conceal the fact that this is a middling effort at best from a director from whom we have come to expect consistent greatness.

The action is rooted in a 2003 short story that was anthologised two decades later in The Last Dream. Yet some critics have suggested that this is a stop-gap project or a palate cleanser before the next masterpiece. But even though the structure and the inter-changeable characterisation are self-consciously tricksy, Almodóvar tosses in enough big ideas to demand careful scrutiny. Clearly, Raúl and Else are what Jessica Kiang wittily called `Almodavatars' in her Sight and Sound notice. But the director teasingly invites viewers to gauge the authenticity of the barbs exchanged between Raúl and Mónica during their park contretemps in which she denounces him for `vampiring' her. Does he really believe that he has already produced his best work or does he blame the state of world cinema for making it more difficult to make personal statements in a marketplace that is dominated by comic-book blockbusters and wannabe Netflix pick-ups? Where does he stand in the debate on autofiction and what is legitimately appropriatable from a creator's real life (or from that of an acquaintance or a complete stranger)? Pondering these issues would appear to be more profitable than delving into the merits of what is essentially the film equivalent of someone doing a jigsaw.

It's an extremely well assembled puzzle, with Almodóvar's script setting the tone with its playful wit and sincere compassion. The performances are also strong, with Bárbara Lennie and Leonardo Sbaraglia investing their self-obsession with a faint hint of empathy, Vicky Luengo and Aitana Sánchez-Gijon seething with self-recrimination for their misplaced loyalty, and Patrick Criado and Quim Gutiérrez proving to be much more than hot eye candy. Yet, for all the fine acting, the characters never flesh out, as they exist solely to be moved around the twin boards at play in Almodóvar's intricate Pirandellian game.

As one has come to expect from an Almodóvar picture. the production values are exceptional. The use of colour by production designer Antxón Gómez and costumier Paco Delgado is inspired, while cinematographer Pau Esteve Birba contrasts the shimmering shades with the basalt blackness of the Canarian sands. Editor Teresa Font handles the timeframe transitions with unfussy efficiency, while Alberto Iglesias's music decorates the tonal shifts with finesse. For all its craftiness and craftsmanship, however, Bitter Christmas (which takes its name from a Chavela Vargas ranchera) is involving rather than affecting, primarily because it lacks the edge and effervescence of Almodóvar's best work. But it could easily develop a cult following and would make a fine double-bill partner to Pain and Glory, which said many of the same things, but with more violable vim and vituperative vigour.

HANGING BY A WIRE.

You know there's going to be trouble when Robert Mitchum, Linda Darnell, and the sinister Jack Palance board the cable car linking the Latin American mountain village of Le Cumbre with the town of San Cristóbal in Rudolph Maté's Second Chance (1953). Similarly, you fear the worst when a dastardly villain named Olsen traps Lady Penelope and Tin-Tin inside a gondola servicing the Paradise Peaks Hotel in Switzerland in the 1966 Thunderbirds episode, `The Cham-Cham'. But the events related by Pakistani documentarist Mohammed Ali Naqvi in Hanging By a Wire are all true and, even if you already know the outcome, they make for discomfiting viewing. Yet, the film this mix of drone shots, talking heads, and dramatic reconstructions most brings to mind is Billy Wilder's Ace in the Hole (1951).

At 7:30am on Tuesday, 22 August 2023, eight people boarded a cable car from the mountain village of Jhangra in the Battagram region of Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa Province. During the course of what should have been a 10-minute journey, two of the three mile-long wires securing the gondola snapped, leaving the passengers, six of whom were schoolboys, dangling at a 45° angle, some 900ft over the Allai Valley. Fathers Umraiz Khan and Abdul Quyyam recall hearing the sound of the cables shearing and how concerned they were for the safety of their sons, Irfan (14) and Rizwan (15).

Car mechanic Gul Faraz (21) used his phone to send messages urging people to spread the news about their plight and the social media posts came to the attention of journalist Sumaira Khan, who had grown up in the area and knew that the authorities would be slow to act. Using footage captured by an anonymous local drone operator, her reports were picked up by international networks and a previously overlooked area of Pakistan became the focus of the watching world.

District police chief Sonia Shamroz co-ordinated the emergency response, while DSP Muhammad Nazir attended the scene. It was now 10:00am and intimate drone shots of the eight passeners inside the rickety gondola had heightened the gravity of the situation. Fear among the villagers was also turning to anger, as there was no sign of a rescue attempt being mounted. When one local started to edge along the cable on a device of his own making, he was persuaded to return lest he made things worse. It was then that someone contacted cable car expert Sahib Khan, a `mandghan' or `sky pirate', whose Koka company had performed rescues in the past.

His plan was to skim along the cable on a $15 harness, but Shamroz decided that he would only add to the weight being placed on the wire and he was denied access. He claims he was stopped because he was poor, but Shamroz insists she was simply trying to minimise the risk to the passengers. Instead, she called in helicopter pilot, Lieutenant Colonel Zain Ali, who reached the scene around midday. Having flown over the gondola and attempted to lower a soldier to gauge a rescue strategy, Ali realised that the downdraft was rocking the car and he withdrew.

A second chopper arrived two hours later and succeeded in lowering a rope harness to the car in the hope of winching the passengers to safety. Irfan called his father to say that he was going to jump first and hoped he would make it. Umraiz reveals that his son put the harness on wrong and had to grip hold of the rope. Phone footage shows him dangling perilously, but he made it safely and appears as a bearded young man to confirm the fact and confide that he is still haunted by his ordeal.

As Ali admits that the rescue was as exciting as it was satisfying, Shamroz confirms that the decision was taken to use the same methods to recover the remaining passengers. At 16:30, however, the rope became entangled with the cable and had to be cut because the gondola was lilting. Realising sunset was approaching, Shamroz recognised that she needed another solution and contact was made with gym owner, model, and zip wire specialist Muhammad Ali Swati, who styled himself `Adventure Boy'.

Much to the dismay of his father, Aslam, he had been rejected by the army and saw this mission with assistant Muhammad Ilyas as a way of restoring his reputation within the family. By the time he arrived, however, Sahib and his cousin, Hassanzeb, had trekked to the other side of the valley and were preparing to embark upon their own rescue bid. With darkness falling and a wind blowing, Sahib took 40 minutes to reach the cable car. But he was able to attach the harness to Niaz (17), who was pulled to safety by Hassanzeb.

Swati recalls the chaos on the other side of the valley, as the locals had lost patience with the authorities, who had no idea what Sahib was planning and were worried that the remaining passengers woule be stranded in the cold overnight. So, as soon as Niaz reached safety (to the relief of father Umar Zeib), Shamroz told Sahib to suspend his operation, as it was deemed to dangerous to continue. Swati and Ilyas were given the go ahead, however, and they set off on their zipline around 19:00, knowing that the cable was damaged and that time was not on their side.

After half an hour, they reached the gondola and were appalled to see Sahib on the roof. Following an exchange of words with Swati, he helped Ilyas fit the boys inside with harnesses. Swati then set off with three of them attached to him. However, the rope at the ledge had become entangled in a tree and somebody had to climb up and saw off the branch - thus, leaving Swati and his charges stranded on the cable. Deciding to pull himself by hand, he made about 400m before he started to tire and they shot backwards when he let do of the rope. On camera, Swati admits he thought they were going to smash into the car, but they suddenly stopped.

Luckily, the trees had acted as a brake and Swati was relieved that the people on the ledge started to pull them back. However, the rope was still around his arm and each tug tightened its grip. He shouted for them to stop, so he could free himself, but they couldn't hear him. As soon as they relaxed the tension, however, Swati's group shot back down the cable again and only just came to a halt short of the gondola. Having ridden their luck again, they were pulled to safety and Abdul Quyyam recalls his relief that Rizwan was back on land, along with Gul Faraz (who is his brother), and Sher Nawaz (20). Uncle and nephew remember sobbing, while Sher vowed to sacrifice a goat to give thanks for being saved. Sombre and heavily bearded, he confirms that he kept his promise.

Back in the gondola, Ilyas tried to keep Ibrar (14), Usama (15), and Attaullah (16) calm by taking selfies. As Swati knew he had broken his arm, he found a Special Forces volunteer, who had a walkie-talkie to maintain contact in case there were problems. Sahib opted to return on his own, as he didn't want anyone to say that he had been rescued. The remaining boys speak briefly on camera to reflect on their experience, while Swati speaks of his pride in Ilyas and his happiness that his father commended him. Sahib had to wait for his cousin to come and fetch him, as he had given all his equipment to the kids. But he is also pleased that people like him, even though he denies he's a hero.

Over news footage, captions explain how Sahib and Swati were given medals, while Shamroz became the first woman in her district to become an Assistant Inspector General of Police. The boys express their gratitude, but regret that the cable car still hangs across the valley and has not been replaced - although Irfan says he would never use it. They also thank the media for creating the swell that forced the arm of the authorities. But they are not mentioned, which speaks volumes in itself.

Anyone with memories of this harrowing incident will be keen to learn what went on behind the scenes. Director Mohammed Ali Naqvi makes telling use of the primary footage recorded on mobile phones and by the drone camera. But he is somewhat hamstrung by the fact that darkness prevented onlookers from filming and, as a result, all of the nocturnal rescue scenes are reconstructions. While these are competently done, they lack the urgency and rawness of the first-hand accounts.

More damagingly, Sven Faulconer's score is bombastically melodramatic and plays against any suspense that Will Grayburn might have built up through his thoughtful editing. But Naqvi's judgement might also be questioned, whether in his gambit of presenting Umraiz Khan and Abdul Quyyam as grieving fathers or in his decision to say nothing about the arrest of the cable car owner and the fact that there isn't a single item online about any prosecution for ignoring safety measures. He also opts against showing the central government's response to the emergency and skips over its ramifications for a remote and impoverished community.

Furthermore, as the film only runs for 77 minutes, surely an opportunity has been missed to explore why the police and the military only had limited success in rescuing the trapped passengers when a couple of working-class mavericks saved the day? Naqvi should have said more about the tensions between Sahib and Swati and might also have had someone address whether he or the various global news stations he quotes would have touched this story if it had ended in plummeting tragedy rather than nail-biting triumph, like the 2010 Copiapó mine and 2018 Tham Luang cave incidents.

It's also puzzling why the adult members of the party are given such short shrift, when they were in as much danger as the schoolboys, and were in a better position to describe the mood within the gondola during a 14-hour ordeal. Granted, the emphasis is on the rescuers, but the suspense would have been much greater if we had heard more from the teenagers and less from their parents. Similarly, having established Sumaira Khan's part in publicising the crisis, Naqvi says nothing about any reporting from the scene and little about how Sonia Shamroz got her information and how she came to any of the decisions that shaped the race-against-time rescue.

Noting that the city folk speak in English, while the locals use Urdu or Pashto, Naqvi is an Emmy-nominated producer/director and has such acclaimed titles as Shame (2006), Among the Believers (2015), and The Accused: Damned or Devoted (2020) to his credit. But this manipulative account is never as gripping as E. Chai Vasarhelyi and Jimmy Chin's The Rescue (2021), recalling instead Marco Orsini's Beyond the Raging Sea (2019) in its inability to present a compelling episode with the ingenuity, insight, and immediacy to keep the viewer on the edge of their seat.

LANDSHIP.

Since he started out with the shorts, Fusilier (2013), and The Flying Squad (2015). Callum Burn has become a one-man chronicler of the Second World War through the features, Lancaster Skies (2019), Spitfire Over Berlin, (2022), and Battle Over Britain (2023). It's not entirely a solo operation, however, as father Arthur Burn also plays a key role in running Tin Hat Productions, who turn their attention to the Great War in Landship.

An opening caption sets the scene with a reference to the start of the Battle of Passchendaele on 31 July 1917. Early in the morning of 22 August, the eight-man crew of Mark IV Tank F41 meets its new skipper. Captain Donald Richardson (Vin Hawke) urges `Fray Bentos' to make some mischief on the frontline.

As the tank rumbles across No Man's Land in support of the 61st Division, there's a tense silence and only a prayer for protection can be heard during a fraught encounter with the Imperial German enemy near St Julien. There's relief rather than euphoria, as the machine-guns stop. However, the tank comes under fire again and Second Lieutenant George Hill (David Dobson) falls from the controls after he's hit in the neck. Privates William Morrey (Jack Sherlock) and Percy Budd (Ricky Oakley) are also wounded.

In an effort to steer, Richardson pitches Fray Bentos into a hollow. Sergeant Robert Missen (Matthew Canny) and Private Ernest Braedy (Nadav Burstein) climb on to the roof to fetch the unditching beams. Missen is forced back inside by a fusillade, but Braedy was less fortunate. Budd has been knocked cold and he comes round to the news that Braedy has been lost. As the Germans continue to attack, Private James Binley (Mickey David) lets it be known that he distrusts Richardson and is ordered to remain at his post on the Lewis gun, even though it's impossible to get clean shots off at the enemy trench.

Determined to show leadership, Richardson takes a shufti outside and shoots an encroaching German soldier. He reveals that the officers have promised Iron Crosses for the capture of a British tank. However, Fray Bentos is also being hit by friendly fire and the deeply religious Missen offers to return to the lines to tell the brass about their plight. Morrey claims it's suicide to venture outside, but he is silenced with the threat of a charge and Hill wishes Missen good luck in his mission. Hearing shots, Private Frederick Arthurs (Sam Dowdy) and the rest of the crew fear the worst and Morrey unleashes a volley of bullets in fury and is reprimanded for wasting ammunition.

The next morning, a grenade is tossed inside the tank and they are lucky to survive without further injuries. Morrey wants to drain the radiator, but Richardson insists they need the power because they can still serve a useful purpose by firing at the enemy. Morrey's mood isn't improved when it becomes clear that the infantry are not going to come and relieve them and Hill has to intervene to prevent another exchange with Richardson.

When the Germans launch another attack, the captain fights heroically at the hatch. But Private Ernest Hayton (Daniel Cornish) screams in shellshocked terror and Binley accuses Richardson of not caring what happens to his men. The commanding officer passes out and appears to have a vision of himself prowling in the murk with his revolver primed, only to be clubbed over the head by a German in a gas mask.

When he comes round, he's helped to his feet by Morrey and thanks Binley for oiling and loading his pistol. Sensing a shift in the tone, Richardson passes round his hip flask and jokes about what his wife would say if she could see him before he makes a toast to the long road home.

The Germans send Captain Henrichsen (Jeffrey Mundell) to offers surrender terms. He carries a white flag and Braedy's sketchbook, but Richardson refuses to make a deal that would betray the honour of the finest tank crew in the British Army. They brace themselves for an attack and Richardson comes face to face with Henrichsen. He pulls a gun, only to be shot by Brinley. Returning to their own lines, the crew make provision for Fray Bentos to be defended by the 9th Battalion The Black Watch. We learn that the crew was the most decorated in the entire war, although Budd would be killed on 25 August 1918 at the age of 22. By contrast, Richardson lived to be 84 and passed away in 1977.

He's depicted stereotypically and played with stiffness extending well beyond his upper lip by Vin Hawke, although he manages to exude a little charisma after chief critics Binley and Morrey recognise the strain he's under. The performances are all rather rigid, although the actors aren't helped by the fact that the screenplay by Burn père et fils plunges straight into the action without pausing to introduce the crew members and establish their personalities and friendships and/or rivalries. As they are all strangers, it's hard for the audience to tell them apart in the confines of the tank cabin, let alone root for them. We're not even told how suited Richardson is to command a tank that we are assured is on a crucial mission.

This is also very vaguely outlined, with no explanation being given of either the strategic importance of tanks on the Western Front or the dangers they faced from abandoned trenches and the howitzer-scarred topography of No Man's Land, let alone from shelling and machine-gun fire. The Burns also neglect to reveal why so many men were needed in such a confined space and what they all did. As this is an historical recreation of the Fray Bentos's mission, such details would seem necessary, if only to pay respectful tribute to each crew member.

Nevertheless, Callum Burn - who had previously covered the topic in the 2014 short, Fray Bentos - demonstrates how primitive and cumbersome the first generation of tanks were and what risks their crews took in manoeuvring them across treacherous terrain. He also creates a sense of claustrophobia and uncertainty within the tank by keeping Sean Parsons's camera close to the players. He also makes deft use of the murk to avoid having to go to the expense of creating rutted expanses of barbed-wire wilderness and hiring lots of enemy extras. However, as in previous outings, such thriftiness inevitably exposes the film's budgetary limitations and rather curbs its ambition. But Tin Hat is doing a fine job in ensuring that the sacrifices made by our forefathers in order to keep Britain free and democratic will not be forgotten, even if its passionately made pictures don't necessarily get widely seen.