One Great Shot: The Bride of Frankenstein (1935)

Posted on March 4, 2026 by Sartaj Govind Singh

Preamble

The Bride! hits UK cinemas this Friday, and in the build-up to that, I thought I would discuss some related movies via the one great shot format. Despite alluding to them in my longer pieces, I’ve not really dedicated an entire post to any of the Universal Monster Movies. This is an exciting opening salvo to remedy that. So, with that said, what’s your favourite shot from The Bride of Frankenstein? Let me know in the comments below.

One Great Shot

From Young Frankenstein to comic cons and music videos, Elsa Lancaster’s titular Bride has become a staple in pop culture and horror circles. But like many revered figures, we just remember the heightened image of her, namely the shot of her with a confident stance and lightening-streaked hair (after being proudly announced as “The Bride of Frankenstein” by Dr Pretorius, with swelling music).

For much of her screen time, there’s a tangible fear in her character. Lancaster’s physicality suggests she may be a dancer, as she almost gives the impression of gliding across the screen. But in reality, she’s being dragged by her creator, Henry Frankenstein (Colin Clive).

The disconnect between these two states feels in keeping with how women were portrayed insofar as they had a purpose to serve without much agency or say in the matter. In this case, the Bride was created as a mate for Frankenstein’s creature. However, she roundly rejects him by articulating her fear in piercing shrieks. The affirmative action does have echoes of some of Henrik Ibsen’s female characters, insofar as rejecting some of the social norms of their time by making a bold choice.

At the same time, it’s interesting to consider Elsa Lancaster’s other performance as the writer of Frankenstein, Mary Shelley, in the movie’s intro. Our conception of actors taking on dual roles comes from 1939’s The Wizard of Oz. But I’d argue the groundwork of that comes from this film.

The movie’s introduction provides a reason as to why Shelley wrote the famous science fiction novel. As she states in the tail end of the scene- “The publishers did not see that my purpose was to write a moral lesson. The punishment that befell a mortal man who dared to emulate God.”

Much like The Bride, Shelley has to live up to a projected societal image (in this case, being stuck writing romance novels rather than anything to do with horror). As her husband says to her, “You’ll have much to answer for.”

The choice of a dual role feels in keeping with the cinematic inspiration that pervades much of the Universal Monster Movies. This comes in the form of German Expressionism, which depicted dreamlike imagery and elaborate set design to illustrate characters’ innermost thoughts and feelings.

With that in mind, Shelley and the Bride can be interpreted in many ways. However, for my money, they are the Superego and the id, respectively. In light of Shelley’s earlier quote, it’s quite clear that she’s the Superego, as she wishes her readers to take away a moral message from her work. The Bride is the id as she expresses her unconscious thoughts in very primal terms. In fact, her reaction to her male counterpart could be seen as a simple flight response within the ingrained fight-or-flight response we all have.

Regardless of your take on what Shelley and the Bride represent, the 1935 film’s one great shot asks us to engage beyond the monumental, iconic image we have of the title character and instead consider her vulnerability.

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Review: Scream 7 (2026)

Posted on February 28, 2026 by Sartaj Govind Singh

Preamble

When it rains, it pours. And that’s not just current English weather. Scream 7 has come out at a similar time to the new Resident Evil game- Requiem. And as curious as I’ve been to see the new slasher instalment, it’s felt like a slight pull away from that experience. But in all honesty, I’ve had a lot of fun writing this review. With that said, what did you think of Scream 7? Let me know in the comments below.

Review

From its tagline alone- “Burn it all down”, Scream 7 suggests a violent and bold reinvention that’s befitting of its central slasher. However, this proves to be anything but the case, with an instalment that circles the wagon of its central heroine’s place in the Scream franchise, in a way that feels oddly reactionary.

The new instalment sees Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell) caught up in a new series of Ghostface murders, who are using the image of Stu Macher (Matthew Lillard) to taunt her and her daughter, Tatum (Isabel May).

Aside from the new interpretation of the “Rules” scene and an opening immortalising the events of the first movie via a grisly, true-crime-inspired Airbnb, Scream 7 drops its meta-textual voice of the horror genre.

What remains is a commendable commitment to the drama and angst between Prescott and her daughter, Tatum. Whilst some of this lands (particularly the pair’s final scene), most moments are in service to the movie’s misguided subtext.

Scream 7 feels incensed at the fact that Sidney was not present for the events of the last movie, so it goes out of its way to create a plot for her to come to the conclusion that she should not have missed them.

This approach comes across as one-note and quite egotistical, as previous instalments have illustrated how Sidney is a unique final girl, whilst also not being afraid to critique the concept itself. The result is tantamount to a franchise circling in a way that takes the teeth out of its AI and deepfake plot points.

In fact, the film does not seem remotely interested in exploring the implications of these aspects, insofar as they affect the genre at large or the psyche of those targeted. Sure, we wonder if Stu is alive, but given the franchise’s propensity for swapping killers, it never leaves us in suspense.

Scream 7 marks the return of Kevin Williamson, who does double duty as co-writer and director. On the fringes of the screenplay are touches that made his influence on earlier movies unique and welcome. This mostly comes from Tatum questioning her status as Sidney’s daughter and Mindy’s euphoric suspect dissection. But these exist on the sidelines of a screenplay that’s designed to justify Sidney’s existence.

This is a shame, as Neve Campbell’s performance does illustrate a domesticated, no-nonsense Sidney who feels authentic (despite where the screenplay ultimately takes her). Courtney Cox is cheerworthy in a performance that retains her biting edge and humour. Likewise, Anna Camp lives up to her surname in a performance that plays to the rafters in its depiction of fervent fangirl rage. And Jasmine Savoy Brown proves to be as formidable as Jamie Kennedy in her postmodern deliveries.

As for Williamson’s direction, it’s playful insofar as how he places Ghostface in the frame, which actually makes the character the most spectral he’s ever appeared in the series. And some use of low-angle shots and dolly zooms results in a dreamy flair that typifies the series. However, much like the movie’s ultimate meaning, the direction is in service to placate, not much else.

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One Great Shot: Scream VI (2023)

Posted on February 25, 2026 by Sartaj Govind Singh

Preamble

If there were ever an opportunity to pull out the “Surprise Sidney!”, this would be the preamble for it. I realise that once again, any form of writing on Scream (2022) has been put on the back burner. However, it’s just an issue of time. Similarly to when Scream VI came out, I ran out of time. But rest assured, I will get to it sometime. With that said, what’s your favourite shot from the sixth entry in the Scream series? Let me know in the comments below.

One Great Shot

To pick a shot near a film’s closing seems almost to be damning it with faint praise. However, the shot of Sam Carpenter looking at Billy Loomis’s Ghostface mask and subsequently dropping it is quite powerful. On the one hand, it sort of plays as a close to her arc of whether she will embrace her paternal heritage to become Ghostface.

At the same time, it points to how much Sam is grounded by her sister, Tara. It’s as though she interrupts the inner turmoil and reminds Sam that her real family is in front of her, not behind her (through her father’s legacy). It’s the best example of the franchise reckoning with its own past, as opposed to the myriad examples that pervade the rest of Scream 6.

Finally, in a meta sense, Scream 6’s one great shot feels like a closing signature on a letter by Melissa Barrera. In a now-infamous incident, the actress got fired for an Instagram story that showed solidarity with Palestine. Whilst that whole incident is a conversation for another day, it can’t help but colour my perception of the movie’s closing moments. It now reads as a firm line in the sand as the Scream franchise (via Billy’s mask) is let go of for better pastures.

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One Great Shot: Scream 4 (2011)

Posted on February 24, 2026 by Sartaj Govind Singh

Preamble

At this point, it’s no surprise to admit that Scream 4 is my favourite movie in the series. Its meta commentary, and Ghostface’s motive appeals to me most. Plus, for the reasons discussed in my original review and this post, it moves the dial on the notion of the Final Girl in a way that feels meaningful and resonating. But before I gush any further, what’s your favourite shot from Wes Craven’s last Scream movie? Let me know in the comments below.

One Great Shot

Although simple in conception, Scream 4’s one great shot holds a lot of meaning. For one, it’s a good distillation of the film’s critique of the final girl. Part of the film explores how the light of a Final Girl can be so bright that it eclipses others. This scene between Judy Hicks and Sidney is a good representation of that idea. Hicks asks Sidney if she remembers her and that they were in a school play together. Sidney says no, but that it’s nice to see Hicks again. It’s revealed that Hicks played a lost boy in their school play, and Sidney played Tiger Lilly.

Aside from serving as a nice piece of continuity insofar as Sidney’s knack for being the lead in drama productions, the moment is an excellent metaphor for the final girl. Sometimes it can feel like someone who takes up all the attention as the main character in a play. Their role can be so pivotal that it overshadows everyone else.

This aspect also extends to Jill’s Mum, who states that Maureen Prescott was her sister and that no one asks about her scars. I used to think that this was an undeveloped concept. However, I now appreciate these being little grace moments as they exist on the sidelines and become a lot more potent as such.

Finally, I really appreciate the lighting of the sequence: at the start of the scene, Hicks delivers her dialogue in darkness, then as it goes along, and finally comes into the light. It seems like quite a theatrical choice, befitting her sentiment toward Sidney. It could also be a visual metaphor for Sidney’s book, “Out of Darkness.” Or if you’re really cynical, it could plant the seed of the idea that Hicks may be one of the suspects in the current Ghostface murders.

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One Great Shot: Scream 3 (2000)

Posted on February 22, 2026 by Sartaj Govind Singh

Preamble

Over the years, it’s been a fascinating experience revisiting Scream 3 and writing about it. Despite being the black sheep of the franchise and not as interesting in its musings as Wes Craven’s New Nightmare, I still have respect for the shots it fires at the exploitation of the Hollywood machine. So, with that said, what’s your favourite shot from the 2000 film? Let me know in the comments below.

One Great Shot

Despite Scream 3’s pariah status among the fandom, critics, and audiences, the dream sequence in which Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell) sees the ghost of her mother, Maureen (Lynn McRee), marks a high point for the series (in terms of direction). Wes Craven has always injected his direction of the Scream movies with a dreamy European flair. And Scream 3’s one great shot of a spectral Maureen in the background would not feel out of place in Mario Bava’s Black Sunday.

At the same time, the sequence speaks to Sidney’s deeply ingrained fears. During a crucial moment of the sequence, Maureen says, “Everything you touch, Sid, dies!” The declaration begins the process of critiquing the notion of the Final Girl, focusing on how it affects others. Whilst Scream 3 does not delve into this, it’s a good thread that’s picked up in Scream 4.

But what is clear based on what we get of Sidney in Scream 3 is that she purposely closes herself off from people because she’s afraid of reprisals from Ghostface, but also forming attachments who might get killed because of her. In this way, she’s afraid to follow in her mother’s footsteps by hurting those around her and igniting a chain of events that will harm others (inadvertently or not). Part of the character’s arc in this second sequel is trusting in the notion of surrounding herself with people.

But as the film’s events and subsequent instalments (especially Scream 4) prove, Sidney can’t find solace in family, as it comes with its own complications. And this sequence is a lightning rod for all that angst going forward.

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One Great Shot: Scream 2 (1998)

Posted on February 18, 2026 by Sartaj Govind Singh

Preamble

I’ll be honest: two posts in, I’m already feeling the daunting nature of this series. This is not because I don’t have much to say, but because I don’t want to cover old ground or repeat what I’ve said in a review. However, I’m not one to shrink from a challenge. With that said, what’s your favourite shot from Scream 2? Let me know in the comments below.

One Great Shot

By far and away, the best part of Scream 2 is Cotton Weary. His character and Liev Schreiber’s performance fuel the idea of an O.J. Simpson esque figure who may or may not be the person that the media painted him as. And the shot of Gale Weathers (Courtney Cox) presenting Weary to an unassuming Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell) begins this character exploration. When Weary is first revealed, Marco Beltrami’s score hits with a foreboding sting that hints at the character’s possible nefarious intentions. And Schreiber skirts the line between shifty and demure.

The shot is also interesting for depicting how the media can be exploitive via Weathers. Nearly every character she has come into contact with in the original feels spurned and used by her. And Sidney’s action of punching Weathers is a collective cathartic moment for audiences who hate the tabloid press in all its forms.

In fact, part of why the film works is that it plays with this dynamic and our preconceptions of these characters. Whilst there’s a clear gauge of how we perceive them through the court of public opinion, our perception of them (within the confines of a murder mystery) is murkier. Weathers suddenly seems innocent when helping Dewey (David Arquette) solve the case. Whereas, the one moment where Weathers sees Cotton in suspicious circumstances, our guard is suddenly up, thinking he’s the killer. In this way, Scream 2’s one great shot is a wellspring for the film’s themes.

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One Great Shot: Scream (1997)

Posted on February 14, 2026 by Sartaj Govind Singh

Preamble

It never ceases to amaze me how the right words always come for the actual blog post itself, but writing for a preamble is akin to running backwards in a race whilst being blindfolded. But as I sit here on a Saturday night with Blue Öyster Cult’s “I Love the Night” blasting through my headphones, that’s the exact state of affairs. Suffice to say, in anticipation of Scream 7, I could think of no better lead-up than the series getting the one great-shot treatment (and hopefully a review of Scream 2022). So, with that said, what’s your favourite shot from the original Wes Craven classic? Let me know in the comments below.

One Great Shot

One of Scream’s greatest legacies is the character of Stu Macher. Revealed as one of the killers in the film’s third act, the livewire teenager has been mythologised to the point of breaking point, with mastermind conspiracy theories that retcon his death, in which he had a height-related tumble with a TV. Part of this has come from the creators of Scream. Screenwriter Kevin Williamson’s original idea for Scream 3 was to make Macher the head of a cult. However, this was slashed due to the Columbine school shooting. And in Scream VI, Mindy Meeks gives voice to millions of Stu is alive fans when she says, “If you believe he’s dead” in response to looking at the television that killed him in the original picture.

If anything, Scream’s one great shot reinforces why Stu Macher is not a beyond-the-grave Machiavellian figure, and underscores the series’s ingrained humanity. Matthew Lillard’s performance is one that colours outside the lines. It’s akin to throwing an electric eel in a fish tank, whereby it injects the film with a unique energy that’s hard to ignore. And it’s a testament to Lillard that any one of his shots could be worthy of discussion. His physicality in the video store scene suggests a homoerotic subtext, and his stillness during his reveal scene is a lingering piece of subtle acting.

But the above shot of a bloody Stu Macher on the phone remains Lillard’s best moment in the film. For one, it’s improvised. In a recent interview with Kevin McCarthy, the Scooby-Doo actor revealed that the famous line “My mum and dad are going to be so mad at me” was “not written” and that director Wes Craven “never said cut” after filming the originally scripted moment. The line illustrates how Macher is just a kid who is slowly realising the consequences of his actions. Like an extreme practical joke that’s gone wrong, the hyperactive and attention-grabbing character is doing a tearful “It’s just a prank, bro.”

Unlike mastermind, Billy Loomis, whose Andrew Robinson-esque presence (circa 1987’s Hellraiser) suggests a cold and calculated desire for revenge, Macher seems like an excitable puppy who will go along with the plan because it’s fun, etc. In this way, the character embodies the series’ appeal of the human killer. Occasionally, there’s no complex reason for someone to murder. Instead, it’s as simple as “It’s a scream, baby.”

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Review: Send Help (2026)

Posted on February 9, 2026 by Sartaj Govind Singh

Preamble

I almost feel this particular review does not need a preamble or introduction. It’s one of those pieces that speaks for itself. Even a talking point I had set aside for this preamble was organically integrated into the review. So, instead, to paraphrase Stan Lee- Sam Raimi. Nuff said. Have you seen Send Help? Let me know in the comments below.

Review

From a seemingly vintage 20th-century-looking fanfare to an ending title card, there’s a distinctly humble quality that pervades Send Help. This seems appropriate for a Sam Raimi feature. The famed American horror auteur has made his movies with a sense of puckishness and an eye for early cinematic comedy, such as the Three Stooges and Buster Keaton. And this continues to be the case with Send Help, a relentlessly entertaining return to form for the earnest court jester of horror cinema.

The 2026 movie is about a mousey and diligent corporate strategist, Linda Liddle (Rachel McAdams), who is persistently overlooked and mocked at work. After her promised promotion is rejected by the new CEO, Bradley Preston (Dylan O’Brien), Liddle confronts her new boss. Despite not budging on his choice, he invites the longtime employee to join the team to secure a merger in Bangkok. Whilst there, their private plane suffers a nasty crash that results in Preston and Liddle being washed up on a remote island, where they’re forced to survive together.

Based on my audience reactions of squirms, audible gasps, loud guffawing, and generally talking to the screen (especially impressive considering how muted a British audience can be to most movies), Send Help is an effortless showcase for the power of the cinematic experience and its ability to enrapture an audience. This seems particularly heartening given Raimi’s persistent fights with the studio to release it theatrically.

Whilst the film is filled to the brim with Raimi touches, namely fast-motion demon POV shots, over-the-top gore, and violence with a tint of gonzo slapstick, his more understated camera moves really stuck with me, whether it’s a match cut of a swinging golf club, or a medium shots depicting Liddle as an almost super heroic Kraven the Hunter savagely dispatching a boar. These aspects are complemented by Bill Pope’s cinematography, whose use of light and shadow gives the central island location an ominous, striking quality. Likewise, Danny Elfman’s score is surprisingly jaunty with its use of a Spanish guitar that blends with choral work that accentuates Linda’s struggles throughout the picture.

The screenplay (courtesy of Freddy Vs Jason’s scribes- Mark Swift and Damian Shannon) has a lot going on. Between its framing as a pseudo-romantic comedy, workplace drama, and satire, there’s a lot of ambition. Not all of it works. This mostly comes down to the ending. Whilst the central reveal feels organic and earned, the ending’s ultimate meaning and point feel quite nebulous. Instead, it exists as an ironic, karmic twist of fate that has graced other horror films (including Raimi’s Drag Me to Hell).

This is a shame, as Rachel McAdams plays the notes of her final moments quite well, accentuating the film’s central quandary: are monsters born or made? By taking the closing scene as gospel, the movie seems to suggest yes to the latter, resulting in Linda becoming Raimi’s most complex protagonist. But it does not negate a sense that a reel or two was missing from the picture. There’s no emotional truth in the final moments. Instead, it suggests a cycle of how the downtrodden will always rise up against their superiors and supplant them. In this regard, Send Help feels quite timely, but never rises above solid (aside from McAdams’s central performance and Raimi’s direction).

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Review: Blue Moon (2025)

Posted on February 1, 2026 by Sartaj Govind Singh

Preamble

If there’s one virtue of the Oscars, then it’s the spotlight on certain films. Blue Moon has been on my radar since its limited UK release in November, but it finally got my attention with its two nominations (Best Original Screenplay and Best Actor for Ethan Hawke). And I would be remiss if I did not mention the recent passing of Catherine O’Hara. Although I haven’t seen the entirety of Home Alone, her work in the Beetlejuice movies has been very formative for me. And she will be missed in the upcoming season of The Studio. In the first season, she proved what an indelible comic spirit she had, and I will miss her dearly. With that said, what’s your favourite Catherine O’Hara performance? Let me know in the comments below.

Review

Early into Blue Moon, a smug bartender, Eddie (Bobby Cannavale), says to celebrated lyricist, Lorenz Hart (Ethan Hawke), “Do you ever think your entire life is a play and that, you know, 99% of the people in it, they got no lines, you know? They’re just like extras.” Such is the nature of Blue Moon, a casual slice-of-life picture in which its central character slowly discovers his growing irrelevance. Primarily set at Sardi’s bar, the film depicts Hartz confronting the fallout from his former partner’s first hit, “Oklahoma!”

Whilst Richard Linklater did not write the movie, the script (courtesy of Robert Kaplow) does include elements of Linklater’s real-time style. This takes the form of a structure in which Hart interacts with the players at the bar and around the restaurant. As such, it’s akin to a Before movie in slow motion, where the focus is not on how the characters interact with the environment but on the people around them. At the same time, the Oscar-nominated screenplay has the biting dissection that graced early Kevin Smith and Quentin Tarantino movies, particularly in an early scene where Hart and Eddie discuss the ultimate meaning of Casablanca.

Ethan Hawke is captivating in a central performance that feels suitably showy for its nomination. However, within that largeness where Hawke commands the room, there’s a subtle sense of performance. Hart modulates himself according to the company he’s in, and Hawke portrays these shifting states with an ease that feels authentic and moving. But it’s in isolation that the actor shines, particularly in the closing scenes, when he realises he’s become the embodiment of the song ‘Blue Moon’.

Equally as striking is Margaret Qualley as Elizabeth, who represents Hart’s muse and love interest. In what could have been a throwaway part, Qualley brings a sense of groundedness and self-respect that goes a long way toward making us see beyond Hart’s rosy picture of her. And Andrew Scott impresses in a supporting role as Hart’s former colleague, Richard Rogers, whose facial expressions and gestures offer the audience the most nuanced portrait of the celebrated writer.

In terms of filmmaking, I really appreciate that Linklater avoids making the entire enterprise feel inherently stagey. He does this by being intimate with the camera, with close-ups being a fixture that show Hart in his element. These are contrasted with quite detailed medium shots in which he blurs the background of passers-by. This conveys the quality of Sardi as a living, breathing place, while also giving the audience a tantalising glimpse of what lies beyond the frame.

The filmmaking choice also reinforces the push and pull of whether the people Hart surrounds himself with are extras or if he’s slowly becoming an extra in the lives of people who were important to him. It’s a testament to Blue Moon that, in that quandary, it feels light and charming enough that the answer is a slow, dawning realisation for audiences, much like it is for Hart himself.

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One Great Shot: Megalopolis (2024)

Posted on January 24, 2026 by Sartaj Govind Singh

Preamble

To quote Gurney Halleck from Dune (2021)- “I see you’ve found the mood.” My blog posts can be erratic at the worst of times: 3 posts in a week, then nothing for nearly 10 days. However, I don’t follow any set plan or release schedule. I just follow my bliss. In the spirit of that point, I wanted to discuss Megalopolis. I’ve seen it twice this week, and honestly, the film has lingered for me in surprising ways. One way is through its visuals, which range from artful to astoundingly cheap-looking. With that said, what’s your favourite shot from Francis Ford Coppola’s ambitious 2024 film? Let me know in the comments below.

One Great Shot

Much like a Russell Brand-styled political rant (circa 2014), Megalopolis is a rambling but well-intentioned effort from one of America’s most celebrated directors. The same goes for the movie’s various shots. I could have gone for the medium shot of a nefarious Shia LaBeouf doing what could only be described as a cocaine fuled, Dennis Hopper esque impression of Jack Nicholson’s Joker from 1989’s Batman. Or the various Art Deco-inspired shots of the New Rome skyline, where Adam Driver’s Cesar affirms his metaphysical prowess.

However, I wanted to go for something a little more abstract to discuss what I think the film is exploring in part. The shot in question is Cesar’s face reveal after he got shot in a fan encounter. The reveal of his glistening golden visage has a striking resemblance to the Phantom’s unmasking in various musical and movie incarnations. This feels particularly intentional, given Adam Driver’s physicality early in the film that resembles a child trying to strut about the stage (in a semi spooky fashion) as literature’s most famous Erik.

But it also points to something important the film is contending with. Cesar’s various flirtations with time are a metaphor for how an artist deals with death and grief. It’s as though all of a sudden, that hole in their life has given them the freedom and time to work on their art. However, if they attempt to paper over the cracks of that loss (via a misuse of drugs or hedonistic pursuit), then they lose that ability to create and be able to self-actualise. It’s no accident that Cesar gains back this ability in tandem with Julia’s (Nathalie Emmanuel) insistence and faith in him.

At the same time, there’s a reason for the almost dreamlike depiction of Cesar’s golden half face. You could read it as an awakening of the third eye, an almost godlike sense of self-awareness that the character now projects outwards as opposed to inwards. This is evident when he goes to Purgatory to visit his dead wife. Only he can see his late love in these similar colours, but Julia can’t see her at all. In the same vein, Wow Platinum (Aubrey Plaza) now sees Cesar in a heightened way, much as he still sees Sunny Hope.

In turn, this makes Platinum’s arc quite ironic. As someone who perhaps can see the world in heightened ways, she instead chooses to embrace the world as it is, which is the pursuit of power and wealth at any cost. And that may just be the character of New Rome, eat or be eaten, or in her case, worship or be worshipped. Or perhaps, I will have a different reading next Tuesday about the scene being truly about Megalon. Such is the nature of Megalopolis’s one great shot. It’s pretentious, playful, and perhaps full of meaning.

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