Moana 2 to The French Dispatch: the seven best films to watch on TV this week
This is the second instalment of what we must now call a 'franchise' (a live-action version of the 2016 original is out next year), so savour the rarity value while you can. It's colourful, musical business as usual, with Auli'i Cravalho's ebullient Polynesian navigator Moana setting off into the blue to seek a drowned island – cursed by bad-tempered storm deity Nalo – whose revival will reconnect all the scattered ocean peoples. Dwayne Johnson as demigod Maui vies for the comic foil position with her pet pig and hapless rooster, and it's good to see the coconut pirates back in fighty form. Gods and monsters abound, with Nalo clearly being positioned as the Thanos of the series. Simon Wardell
Wednesday 12 March, Disney+
Arguably the most Wes Andersony of all Wes Anderson's films, this whimsical doll's house of a comedy dramatises the contents of a fictional American magazine based in Ennui-sur-Blasé, France. Sections include Tilda Swinton's art critic profiling Benicio Del Toro's jailed killer turned painter, Frances McDormand's reporter taking in a May 68-style student protest, and Jeffrey Wright's James Baldwin-like food writer being caught up in a kidnapping. Gently satirical, with nods to the Nouvelle Vague, Jacques Tati and the New Yorker, it's a feast for the eyes. SW
Friday 14 March, 11.20pm, Film4
Hangdog travelling salesman Cliff (Scoot McNairy) is struggling to get by when he bumps into ex-colleague Ricky (a smirking Kit Harington), his partner in an embezzlement scam at their old firm. Ricky offers him a simple job, driving drugs and guns from A to B – but, inevitably, there's nothing straightforward about it. Rod Blackhurst's foreboding thriller – all deadbeat motels and snowbound Montana roads – has pleasing echoes of Fargo, with Cliff finding reserves of cunning and stamina as his options narrow. SW
Saturday 8 March, 11.15am, 8pm, Sky Cinema Premiere
Sylvester Stallone is nobody's idea of an elite rock climber – those biceps would just get in the way – but suspension of disbelief is at the heart of Renny Harlin's precipitately enjoyable 1993 action thriller. Sly plays a former Rockies mountain rescuer who falls foul of bank robbers in search of suitcases full of loot lost from a crashed plane, with his outdoors expertise helping him to escape their clutches. Kudos to the stunt performers for the vertiginous climbing, jumping and falling, and to John Lithgow for adding a touch of class as the big baddy. SW
Saturday 8 March, 9pm, 5Action
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There is often a cruel, amoral edge to Michael Caine's most memorable characters, and Jack Carter in Mike Hodges's hardcore crime drama is a case study in cold-hearted revenge. Back home in Newcastle upon Tyne to find out who killed his brother, London-based gangster Jack rubs everyone up the wrong way. But will he get to the truth before the local mobsters send him packing, or worse? Hodges has a great feel for the working-class environment Jack moves through, setting scenes in pubs, racecourses, ferries and the bingo, as his quest gets ever more brutal. SW
Sunday 9 March, 10pm, BBC Two
With its creator and star Kevin Costner anticipating three more chapters, the first tranche of his epic western has a definite scene-setting mood. It revolves round the nascent Arizona frontier settlement of Horizon at the start of the civil war. Folk for whom the dream of a town could become a reality – though the local Apaches have their own views on it – include Sienna Miller's homesteader, Costner's horse trader and a wagon train led by Luke Wilson's trail boss. SW
Friday 14 March, 11am, 8pm, Sky Cinema Premiere
Thomas Hardiman's one-camera whodunnit roams around backstage at a regional hairdressing contest where one competitor has just been murdered. As the stylists and models come to terms with the death, gossip and rumour swirl in the air alongside copious clouds of hairspray. The suspects include the dead man's main rival Cleve (a marvellously angry Clare Perkins), Darrell D'Silva's event organiser Rene, and Kendra (Harriet Webb), who may or may not have fixed the result. The single-shot technique keeps things bubbling, while the hairdos are suitably outrageous. SW
Friday 14 March, 11.05pm, BBC Two
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New Statesman
an hour ago
- New Statesman
Bruce Springsteen faces the end of America
Photo montage by Gaetan Mariage / Alamy When I met Patti Smith soon after Donald Trump's first victory, she said she'd ended up next to him at various New York dinners over the years, back in the Seventies, when he was pitching Trump Towers. 'We were born in the same year, and I have to look at this person and think: all our hopes and dreams from childhood, going through the Sixties, everything we went through – and that's what came out of our generation. Him.' Smith's sing-song voice was in my head at Anfield Stadium in Liverpool on one of the final nights of Bruce Springsteen's Land of Hope and Dreams tour. Springsteen was born three years after Trump and will also have sat at many New York dinners with him. Those with half an eye on the news would be forgiven for thinking that Bruce has been lobbing disses at the president from the stage between his hits, but his latest show is heavier than that: a conscious recasting of two decades of his more politicised music, with a four-minute incitement to revolution in the middle. Here is a bit of what he says: 'The America I love and have sung to you about for so long, a beacon of hope for 250 years, is currently in the hands of a corrupt, incompetent and treasonous administration. Tonight we ask all of you who believe in democracy and the best of our American experiment to rise with us, raise your voices, stand with us against authoritarianism and let freedom ring. In America right now we have to organise at home, at work, peacefully in the street. We thank the British people for their support…' Clearly few in the US are speaking out like this on stage, and Trump has responded by calling Springsteen a 'dried-out prune of a rocker (his skin is all atrophied!)' and threatening some kind of mysterious action upon his return. Springsteen, the heartland rocker, was never exactly part of the counter-culture, though he did avoid Vietnam by doing the 'basic Sixties rag', as he put it, and acting crazy in his army induction. Yet he has become a true protest singer in his final act. He wears tweed and a tie these days, partly because he's 75 and partly, you suspect, to convey a moral seriousness. When I last saw him, two years ago, I thought I saw some of Joe Biden's easy energy. Well, Bruce still has his faculties. The feeling is: listen to the old man, he has something to say. Springsteen's late years have been something to behold. At some point in the last decade he stopped dyeing his hair and started to talk in a stylised, reedy, story-book voice. The image of the America he seemed to represent shifted back from Seventies Pittsburgh to Thirties California: the bare-armed steelworker became the Marlboro Man, and in 2019 there was a Cowboy album, Western Skies, with an accompanying film in which he was seen on horseback. His autobiography Born to Run revealed recent battles with depression. And it is depression you see tonight in Liverpool – in the wince, the twisted mouth, the accusing index finger; in his entreaty to Liverpool's fans to 'indulge' his sermon against the American administration, delivered night after night, to scatterings of applause. It is a depression I recognise in older American friends who fear they're going to the grave with everything they knew and loved about their country disappearing. But depression is also the stuff of life, of energy. Springsteen has been particularly angry since the early Noughties, since the second Bush administration, but this is his moment somehow, and his song of greedy bankers – 'Death to My Hometown' – is spat out with new meaning in 2025, an ominous abstraction. The father-to-son speech in 'Long Walk Home' feels different in this politically charged world: 'Your flag flying over the courthouse means certain things are set in stone/Who we are, what we'll do and what we won't'). A furious version of 'Rainmaker' ('Sometimes folks need to believe in something so bad, so bad, they'll hire a rainmaker') is dedicated to 'our dear leader'. As much as I admire Springsteen and seem to have followed him around and written about him for years, the Land of Hope and Dreams tour made me realise I hadn't fully known what he was for. When I saw him in Hyde Park in 2023, the first 200 yards of the crowd were given over to media wankers like me, with the paying fans at the back: every single person I had ever met in London was there, mildly pissed up and whirling about with looks of mutual congratulation. Springsteen had become, to the middle classes and above, a global symbol of right-thinking, summed up by his long stint on Broadway at $800 a ticket. His dull podcast with Barack Obama was the American version of The Rest Is Politics with Rory Stewart and Alastair Campbell: men saying stuff you want them to say, to confirm what you already think about stuff (Obama was in awe of Bruce). Subscribe to The New Statesman today from only £8.99 per month Subscribe Politics was easy for Springsteen when politics consisted of external events happening to innocent people, rather than something taking place on the level of psychology, in a movement of masses towards a demagogue. The job he adopted, back in the Seventies, was to set a particular kind of American life in its political and historical context: to tell people who they were, and why they mattered. His appeal as a rock star always lay less in his words than in how sincerely he embodied them: his extraordinary outward energy, his mirroring of his audience, his apparent concern with others over himself. After 9/11, someone apparently rolled down a window and told him, 'We need you now,' so he wrote his song 'The Rising' from the viewpoint of a doomed New York fireman ascending the tower. A recent BBC documentary revealed he'd donated £20,000 to the Northumberland and Durham Miners Support Group during the strikes of 1984 – rather as he donated ten grand to unemployed steelworkers in Pittsburgh the previous year. His self-made success and songs about freedom were the Republican dream, but when Reagan tapped him up for endorsements it was a right of passage for Springsteen as a Democrat rocker to rebuff them (I'm pretty sure they tried to play 'Born in the USA' at Trump rallies too). He is quoted as saying that the working-class American was facing a spiritual crisis, years ago: 'It's like he has nothing left to tie him into society any more. He's isolated from the government. Isolated from his job. Isolated from his family… to the point where nothing makes sense.' Now, Trump has taken Springsteen's people (the Republicans were doing so long before Trump), and the interior life of the working man that Springsteen made it his job to portray has been exploited by someone else. 'For 50 years, I've been an ambassador for this country and let me tell you that the America I was singing about is real,' he says, possessively, on stage. Springsteen, like Jon Bon Jovi, sees his fans as workers. The distances travelled, the money spent, the babysitters paid for: that's what the three-hour gigs are all about. It is part of the psyche of a certain generation of working-class American musician to consider themselves in a contract with the people who buy their records. It is not a particularly British thing – though time and again I am impressed by the commitment required to see these big shows, especially when so many punters are of an age where they would not longer, say, sleep in a tent: £250 a night for a hotel, no taxis to the stadium, a huge Ticketmaster crash that leaves hundreds of fans outside the venue fiddling with their QR codes while Bruce can be heard inside singing the opening lines of 'My Love Will Not Let You Down'. Yet the relationship between a rock star and his fan is not a co-dependency: the fan is having a night out, but the rock star needs the fan to survive. It is hard to underestimate the psychological shift Springsteen might be undergoing, in seeing the working men and women of America moving to a politics that is repellent to him. He has not played on American soil since Trump's re-election and it is likely that this kind of political commentary there will turn the 'Bruuuuuce' into the boo. A Springsteen tribute act in his native New Jersey was recently cancelled (the band offered to play other songs, and the venue said no). Last week, a young American band told me they won't speak out about the administration on stage because they're not all white and they're afraid of getting deported. It is the job of the powerful to do the protesting, and, like Pope Leo, Springsteen's previous good works will mean nothing if he doesn't call out the big nude emperor now. The Maga crowd will still come to see him, of course, and yell the 'woah' in 'Born to Run' just as loud as everyone else does – perhaps because music is bigger than politics, or perhaps because politics is now bigger than Bruce. Though his political speeches in Liverpool (it's UK 'heartland' only this tour: no London gigs) feel slightly out of step with a city that has its own problems, it seems fair enough for Springsteen to be telling the truth about America to a crowd who's enjoyed their romantic visions of the country via his music for 50 years. But their own personal communion is suspended tonight, and the song 'My City of Ruins' has nothing to do with 9/11 any more: 'Come on… rise up…' In the crowd, a very old man is sitting on someone's shoulders. Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band play Anfield stadium, Liverpool, on 7 June 2025 [See also: Wes Anderson's sense of an ending] Related
Daily Mirror
4 hours ago
- Daily Mirror
'Epic Universe says it's 'world's most advanced park' - I tested out the claim
Being catapulted 133ft into the air straight after a massive pizza lunch was, in hindsight, a bold choice. Especially in Florida's 35C heat. I'd been launched sky-high at Universal's brand-new Epic Universe, getting an early look at Orlando's most-hyped theme park before it opened to the public. And where better to start than strapping into one of its headline attractions, cosmic-themed dual-racing coaster Stardust Racers? I'm a theme park super-fan. I'll queue for hours for terrifying rides, scream myself hoarse and sprint straight back to the start. But nothing prepared me for this. During the roughly 90-second ride, I was screaming, crying and briefly convinced I'd broken through the stratosphere. This Epic coaster doesn't warm you up gently. It hurtles you into the cosmos at 62mph with a savage force that threatens to rearrange your insides. At one point, as we spiralled through an inverted crisscross at full speed, I was fairly sure I could even see my soul leaving my body. It was a thrilling start to my time at Epic Universe, Universal's long-awaited new Orlando theme park, with an estimated construction price tag of £5.7billion. Announced in 2019, this 110-acre park is the biggest Universal has ever built and is, as its chief Mark Woodbury puts it, 'the most technologically advanced park in the world'. It's also the first major theme park to land in Orlando in 25 years – and with icons to rival Disney including Harry Potter and How to Train Your Dragon, it's coming for the House of Mouse. Ambitious, immersive and bursting with brand-new rides and cutting-edge tech, Epic is Universal's boldest bid yet for the Florida theme-park crown. Through a set of dazzling and unique portals, visitors can 'travel' to five distinctly themed worlds: Celestial Park, Dark Universe, How to Train Your Dragon: Isle of Berk, Super Nintendo World, and The Wizarding World of Harry Potter – Ministry of Magic, all stitched together with big-budget flair. Here's what to expect… Guests enter Epic Universe through Celestial Park via the grand entrance gates or directly from the Helios Grand Hotel. Unlike the lands beyond, this original world isn't tied to any movie, show or game. It's the centre of Epic with dancing fountains, art-nouveau architecture and tree-lined walkways that evoke the park's interstellar theme. As night falls, colourful lights flicker in sync with an extravagant fountain show, casting a soft glow over the park's cosmic heart. Beaming 'Celestians' (team members) greeted me in splendid cosmic regalia, chirping: 'Welcome, travellers!' I almost asked whether I needed a passport. The highlight is undoubtedly the Stardust Racers, featuring two independent launches, allowing riders to choose between the thrilling yellow 'Photon' and green 'Pulsar' tracks. This is a non-negotiable attraction that'll shake up even hardcore thrill-seekers. Want a slower pace? Hop aboard the wonderfully over-the-top Constellation Carousel, where you can spin gently through the stars on a celestial lion, dragon or peacock. For lunch, try the Space Cowboy pizza, a bold combo of BBQ sauce, rotisserie chicken, olives and crisps, served in the Victorian theatre turned pizzeria, Pizza Moon. Top tip: Stick around until dusk when Apollo hands over the sun to Luna in a dazzling light ceremony. This popular film franchise tells the story of hapless Viking boy Hiccup who defies centuries of tradition by befriending adorable 'night fury' dragon Toothless. Hiccup's craggy, chaotic home Isle of Berk is reimagined in gawp-inducing detail as raucous Vikings and feisty dragons co-exist. Thanks to jaw-dropping animatronics, the dragons are so realistic you half expect them to flap off into the skies. The tech flex is most obvious in the 'Meet Hiccup and Toothless' experience where you can pat a startlingly lifelike Night Fury and snap pics. Hiccup's Wing Gliders is the coaster to queue for to get a dragon's eye view of Berk at speeds up to 45mph and heights of 50ft. Then bag a seat at The Untrainable Dragon for a Broadway-level production featuring all your film faves. Top tip: Grab the carbtastic Dragon Fire Chicken Spire Mac & Cheese Cone from Hooligan's Grog & Gruel. Stuffed with creamy mac, spicy pulled chicken, hot honey, peppers, chimichurri and crispy onions, it's the perfect portable lunch. Universal has finally found a good use for its abandoned Dark Universe. Remember the Tom Cruise Mummy reboot in 2017? That was supposed to kick off a cinematic monsterverse with classic characters including Dracula, Frankenstein and the Wolf Man. The Mummy tanked and the project was scrapped. However, you can now see what this franchise could have been in the gothic village of Darkmoor, where monsters and ghouls roam among rides and spooky restaurants. At the heart of Darkmoor, Monsters Unchained: The Frankenstein Experiment encapsulates Universal's classic characters in a menacing, sophisticated thrill ride. Ushered into eerie Frankenstein Manor, you meet Dr Victoria Frankenstein and an unnervingly lifelike 9ft-tall Frankenstein's monster. On this immersive ride, our heroine Vic tries to control the wayward monsters. Cue a chaotic escape through werewolves, mummies and clawing shadows. My rational brain knew it was fake; my racing heart rate and clammy shirt disagreed. Coaster-wise, Curse of the Werewolf is a family-friendly offering at 37mph, but the spinning cars mean every escape through the haunted forest is a truly chaotic surprise. Top tip: Refresh with a lurid green Monocane Mocktail at the Burning Blade Tavern (look for a windmill on fire, yes really). Absorb '90s nostalgia as you enter the colourful, kinetic Mushroom World through a giant green Warp Pipe/escalator. It's loud, bright and utterly bonkers. Take a spin on Mario Kart: Bowser's Challenge, based on the hugely popular Mario Kart franchise – a must for console connoisseurs. Don VR goggles and help the gang to defeat Team Bowser, dodging obstacles and hurling shells as you collect digital coins alongside Mario, Luigi and Princess Peach. Mine-Cart Madness is Donkey Kong Country reimagined via a clattering high-speed coaster that's one missing bolt away from disaster. Ride through lush jungle aboard mine carts as you help Donkey Kong and Diddy Kong protect the Golden Banana from the thieving Tiki Tak Tribe. Be warned, thanks to a track-jumping illusion, it feels like you're constantly about to derail. Top tip: Buy a Universal app linked to a Nintendo-themed Power-Up Band to collect digital coins and keys and interact with the environment. As a huge Boy Wizard fan, this was the moment I'd been waiting for. You're transported into 1920s' wizarding Paris from the Fantastic Beasts films and the British Ministry of Magic from the Harry Potter films. The scale and detail are astonishing as you wander Parisian streets with spellbinding shops, restaurants and a game-changing ride. And if you have an interactive wand, there are 12 spell-casting locations where you can conjure water and fire or interact with enchanted objects. It's home to Universal's most technologically advanced attraction yet, the showpiece Harry Potter and the Battle at the Ministry. Take the Metro-Floo and join Harry, Ron and Hermione in a bid to bring odious bureacrat Dolores Umbridge to justice. No expense has been spared on this extraordinary ride where you fly, drop and spin through various scenes, pursuing Umbridge as she attempts to evade capture. You're swiftly conscripted into helping the Hogwarts gang stop her while being flung through eye-popping digital magic, smoke, animatronic wand-waving and death eaters. If you only do one thing here, this is the ride to queue for. Top tip: Mega fans should purchase a Second Generation Interactive Wand. Epic is Universal's boldest, most imaginative, and most high-tech experience yet and heralds a new era of theme parks in Orlando.
Daily Mail
5 hours ago
- Daily Mail
Meghan Markle and Prince Harry enjoy wholesome Disneyland trip with their children
Meghan Markle and husband Prince Harry whisked themselves and their two kids away for a memorable family trip to Disneyland. The Duchess of Sussex, 43, uploaded a new Instagram post that included special moments from their visit to the Happiest Place on Earth to celebrate their daughter Lillibet's fourth birthday. It comes just days after she sparked controversy over a throwback clip of herself twerking in a hospital room ahead of Lillibet's birth. Markle shared a video montage from the two-day Disneyland vacation as the family had a blast on numerous rides and indulged in yummy treats. One snippet showed both Lillibet and their son Archie, six, having the chance to meet Disney princess Elsa from Frozen. Meghan held her children's hands as they slowly walked over to take pictures with the character in a sweet moment.
