There are endless ways to tell a compelling story in an icy environment. A common element is tension, and this is often what keeps us coming back for more. David Hackl’s (Saw V, Into the Grizzly Maze) Daughter of the Wolf is no such film.

It follows Clair Hamilton (former MMA superstar Gina Carano), an ex-military specialist whose son is being held hostage. She must use her father’s (Richard Dreyfuss) inheritance for a ransom to get her son back, before it’s too late…

The story, while familiar, could have been executed really well. Unfortunately, it just comes off as underwritten, with little personality, and reeks of a generic rush job.

Visually, it is quite stagnant, the desaturated colours making it look lifeless. The editing is at times unintentionally comical and doesn’t allow the audience to take the narrative seriously.

The film is a slow burn but there are multiple jarring tonal shifts that take you out of the experience. The script also suffers from repetitive and melodramatic writing. This isn’t helped by some over the top, hammy performances.

Apart from that… Gina Carano does a decent job with the material – her character has little substance and while there are flashbacks that give the audience insight into her past, they don’t help us invest in her struggle. Supporting player Brendan Fahr  (Wynnona Earp) has good moments and on-screen chemistry with Carano but unfortunately, this is underutilised.

The film uses wolves as symbolism and while the ambition is admirable, it just comes off as confused and goofy. These scenes feel forced and cause the narrative momentum to stop. The ending of the film is also a head-scratcher.

Daughter of the Wolf could have been an outstanding film in the right hands. As it is, it feels like a project that was simply a paycheck.

If you like burly men with brylcreemed hair shouting at each other in ‘Laahdan’ accents and continually reminding you that, despite their nefarious ways, they’re simply gentlemen who look after the people what lives here, then you are in for a treat with Once Upon a Time in London.

Starting in the 1930s and set over the course of three decades, director Simon Rumley recounts the real lives of two of the biggest names in old London town: Jack Comer and his protégé Billy Hill. Comer (Terry Stone, who also co-writes the screenplay) was a hardnosed racketeer who, if the film is anything to go by, was a big believer in putting the boot to someone who overstepped the line. Which would appear to be everyone in London apparently.

Hill (Leo Gregory) was a wiseguy who knew what side his bread was buttered in any given situation. He practically woos Comer over with a fan letter he sends during an extended period in prison. Soon, the two men are working together, but it’s not long before allegiances get in the way of business.

On the surface, Once Upon a Time in London looks suitably glossy, giving its best against the likes of Brian Helgeland’s Legend. Particularly in the early part of the film where it evokes the Woodbine tinged era where the death penalty loomed heavy over the criminal class, meaning it was better to be done for maiming a person than killing them outright.

Taking a break from the violence, there’s a surprisingly sweet little moment where everyone, regardless of where they are on the criminal food chain, is shown to be brought together by the end of the Second World War. And it’s fair to say that both Stone and Gregory certainly look the part as a pair of miserable desperados.

However, the film’s issues outweigh the strengths. The screenplay never gets its hook into an actual narrative that serves either character. We just bounce back and forth between them yelling at each other and yelling at their girlfriends, wives and colleagues. Also, strangely for a film that spans as many years as it does, there’s minimal attempt to make the cast look like the age they’re supposed to be portraying. When Comer is called up for duty during the war, it’s hard to suspend disbelief that the 40-something Stone is in his late 20s. And whilst no one has to look exactly like their real-life counterpart – Roland Manookian, for example, resembles a young Udo Kier rather than Mad Dog Frankie Fraser – it seems a strange creative decision to have the pinnacle of British thuggery, Ronnie and Reggie Kray, barely look like brothers, let alone twins. Mild complaints, maybe, but when they all dogpile on each other it distracts.

And what really frustrates is that Rumley manages to let a more interesting narrative thread slip out of his fingers before the opening credits have finished. Comer was a man proud of his Jewish heritage. So, when noted fascist, Oswald Mosley, came onto the scene, Comer rallied up the troops to take him on at one of his Blackshirt demonstrations. Unfortunately, the film merely shows Comer giving an impassioned speech about taking down Mosley before the credits start and we forget all about it for the rest of the runtime.

A shame because that’s your film there; a veritable army of despicable morals up against a motley crew of hardnosed crims. It could be lean, mean and biting. Literally, everything that Once Upon a Time in London isn’t.

If you’ve had your ear to the ground, then you’ll likely already know about the production troubles that plagued Domino, the first film from Brian De Palma in seven years. Since production began in 2017, rumours of financial difficulties, cast changes and even production being put on hold after the first take have circulated the internet for some time.

De Palma himself, in a move reminiscent of Thomas Alfredson when discussing The Snowman, has shown no remorse when talking about the challenges he faced on set. Well, it’s two years later, Domino has finally hit Australian shores and the question is, was it worth the struggle? The short answer: sort of.

The plot sees Game of Thrones’ Nikolaj Coster-Waldau as Christian, a Danish cop on the hunt for the ISIS member who killed his partner. Having left his partner exposed after borrowing his firearm, Christian appears to carry some of the blame for his death. Joining in his hunt is Alex, a fellow cop played by Waldau’s former GOT co-star Carice van Houten.

Unbeknownst to either of them though, the ISIS member, Ezra (Eriq Ebouaney) is actually in the employment of shady CIA operative Joe (Guy Pearce), who is holding Ezra’s family hostage until he carries out a series of assassinations on other ISIS members.

We follow both Ezra and Christian separately for a large part of Domino. And when we’re not following them, we’re looking over the shoulders of a sleeper cell of terrorists as they plot one violent act after another.

What we’re looking at here is a dense film filled with numerous characters and subplots. So, it’s no surprise that the film comes in at a running time of – checks notes – 89 minutes? No, really, what has the potential to be a behemoth with a labyrinthic plot has been condensed to less than an hour and a half, and it shows.

Plot threads dangle and resolution seems to have been left to the wayside. It’s not a spoiler to say that at one point, Pearce literally walks off-screen never to be seen again. It could be the fault of screenwriter Petter Skavlan (Kon-Tiki), whose dialogue echoes tinny throughout. The more realistic possibility, however, is that Domino was a much longer film that someone somewhere has decided to cut their losses on, shave as much off as they could and still call it a movie; a similar fate that befell Keanu Reeves’ Daughter of God in 2016.

That said, the narrative problems genuinely aren’t an issue for the first half of the film. With a bombastic score that has De Palma’s fingerprints all over it from one note to the next, Domino carefully sets up its stall, giving us insights into the lives of its leading players and setting out the landscape on which they’ll move.

Later on, there’s a stellar rooftop chase between Ezra and Christian that genuinely makes you catch your breath. Then we tip over the halfway mark, and Domino hurtles towards the finish like De Palma’s using roller-skates on a greased-up slide, almost mitigating all its good intentions in one sloppy final act.

In all honesty, if the film hadn’t been so evidently manhandled by its editor, what remains still suggests that Domino is far from being the hidden masterpiece you’d want it to be. Pearce’s pantomime performance jars with the furrowed brow of a tone that’s reflected through the rest of the film, for example. Additionally, it seems a little too soon after the events of the Christchurch shooting to be including a scene where a terrorist attack at an awards show is shown from the shooter’s POV. Yes, the film is technically two years old, and could never have predicted the horror, but it still sticks in the craw considering the superfluous nature of the scene.

Overall, and despite its good intentions, Domino starts off strong but is unable to stick its landing. Embrace it for its bloody-minded approach to recent politics, and you may have yourself a good time. However, it’s impossible to say that this is one of De Palma’s finest.