We've rounded up some of the best things to do in Glasgow this weekend, so there's no excuse to let your downtime go to waste. Whether theatre is your bag, you're mad for music or you'd rather stroll around an art exhibition, you'll find it all in our list, plus much, much more.
If you're looking for things to do in Glasgow beyond today, plan ahead with our round-up of things to do this month.
Things to do in Glasgow this weekend
Films showing this weekend
For all their global dominance, everybody wants these superhero movies to be better: funnier, smarter, more inclusive, more super. A huge step in the right direction, ‘Black Panther’ is that dream come true. Proudly African – even if its Africa comes in the form of the fictional country of Wakanda, a powerhouse of secret technologies – Marvel’s latest is, from top to bottom, a conscious reversal of racial paradigms. Handsomely mounted by ‘Creed’ director Ryan Coogler and starring an enviable slate of black actors that makes cameoing comics godhead Stan Lee almost seem lost, the film is provocative and satisfying in ways that are long overdue, like its ornate, culturally dense production design and the deeper subtexts of honor, compassion and destiny. Wakanda’s young king, T’Challa (a dignified Chadwick Boseman, well-seasoned after playing onscreen versions of James Brown, Jackie Robinson and Thurgood Marshall), recognizes that the world outside his peaceful realm is a divisive place. Still, even as his own armor-clad excursions as Black Panther set up an internal tension between isolationism and responsibility (yes, this is the rare blockbuster with something on its mind), tensions within Wakanda—fomented by exile-turned-rebel Erik Killmonger (Michael B. Jordan, on fire)—threaten to bring him down. In their script, Coogler and Joe Robert Cole take inspiration from the Black Panther’s 50-year history on the page, including a dazzling current run by author Ta-Nehisi Coates, an
‘A Quiet Place’ is like ‘Aliens’ retooled as a militant librarian’s fantasy. Actor-director John Krasinski’s relentless shocker thrives on a nifty premise: in a post-apocalyptic near future, a family must survive in a world where the slightest sound brings out deadly monsters. With minimal dialogue – characters communicate by (subtitled) sign language, eye contact and whispers – ‘A Quiet Place’ is pure, bold cinema, its images and creepy sounds working together to scare the bejesus out of you. Save for some late-in-the-day news headlines, Krasinski admirably gives us little backstory for the monsters. Instead, mum (Emily Blunt), dad (Krasinski), son (Noah Jupe) and daughter (Millicent Simmonds), whose deafness means she can’t hear the beasties coming, are just shoved through the mill. Nerve-shredding set pieces revolve around a nail sticking out of a stair, a flooding basement and a ‘Jurassic Park’-like run through a field. All done with ruthless brio. The rules of this world are fast and loose, so the monsters can’t hear over waterfalls but can listen through walls. It’s a neat allegory for the challenges of parenting in a crazy world. The family dynamics lack nuance, but real-life husband and wife Krasinski and Blunt bring poignancy, the CG beasties are striking and the film pulses with ideas. It all adds up to a monster movie to shout about. Or maybe not.
It’s 50 years since Stanley Kubrick’s ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ opened in cinemas – a good time, then, to enjoy this gossipy insiders’ doc about an anonymous but key player in the intense moviemaking world of the man behind ‘A Clockwork Orange’, ‘The Shining’ and ‘Full Metal Jacket’. The British actor Leon Vitali started off playing a small role in ‘Barry Lyndon’ (1975), after a short career in television (he looked a bit like Robin Askwith of the ‘Confessions…’ movies). Then he decided to quit acting altogether to work on Kubrick’s production team, doing all sorts for the great master over more than two decades, from helping with casting to tracking prints being shipped off to cinemas. All of which means that Vitali – now bearing the weathered look of a former cult member, complete with transatlantic drawl and bandana – was a first-hand witness to the making of every Kubrick film from ‘Barry Lyndon’ to ‘Eyes Wide Shut’, the director’s last movie, finished shortly before his death in 1999. Vitali’s post-‘Barry Lyndon’ work with Kubrick began with Kubrick sending him to the US to cast the role of Danny in ‘The Shining’. He became so embedded in Kubrick’s camp that Matthew Modine is able to joke on camera that half the cast of 1987’s ‘Full Metal Jacket’ assumed Vitali was working as a ‘spy’ for the great man. Kubrick himself rarely spoke about his work – which means this is a valuable insight into Kubrick's character and filmmaking process, as well as a frank look at what it mea
A fey young woman drifts around Paris, fluffy white cat in tow, searching for love and purpose. French director Léonor Serraille’s debut film could easily have been unbearably twee. The fact that it isn’t, at all, is a tribute both to her unsentimental storytelling, and to the prickly strength of Laetitia Dosch’s central performance.Made by an all-female team, ‘Jeune Femme’ centres on a fiercely original kind of heroine, who cracks jokes and tricks her way into strangers’ lives as she struggles her way through an unforgiving city. Paula is left homeless, friendless and jobless after the ten-year relationship her life revolves around collapses into a black hole. In the film’s only ‘Breakfast at Tiffanys’-esque moment, she abandons her cat, the sole remnant of her old life, in a graveyard, only to be overcome with guilt later. Otherwise, her life of newfound singledom involves the unromantic business of selling off her jewellery, lying her way into part-time work in a knicker boutique, and becoming a live-in nanny to a sulky pre-teen girl.What makes ‘Jeune Femme’ so satisfying is its restless energy and attention to visual detail. Dosch is a strong physical comedian, capturing Paula’s mercurial energy, whether she’s smashing her head against her ex’s door in heartbreak, or smearing Nutella on her face to entertain a child. Instead of lingering lovingly on Dosch’s face, body, or the city she lives in, the film’s shots follows her gaze: to the people she watches in the street, to
When you put Jason Reitman, Diablo Cody and Charlize Theron together, something magical happens. It did with the Cody-penned, Reitman-directed ‘Young Adult’, a biting comedy starring Theron as a vicious-but-unsuccessful writer. And it’s happened again with ‘Tully’, a major movie about motherhood, in which Cody’s signature sarcasm has deepened into anxiety, exhaustion and wisdom. Marlo (Theron at her rawest and funniest) is a heavily pregnant suburbanite who seems near-broken by her two children. She’s fallen into the kind of bone-deep resignation that, in a killer bit of physical humour, has her soaked by an exploded bottle of fizzy drink and then take her shirt off at the dinner table rather than clean it up. The baby’s arrival doesn’t help, but then her wealthy brother gifts her the services of a ‘night nanny’ who shows up in the sparkling form of 26-year-old Tully (Mackenzie Davis, who should be a huge star), who’s eerily intuitive to Marlo’s needs. ‘You’re the baby,’ Tully tells her, ushering her off to her first night’s sleep in weeks. Leaning into the performances, Reitman develops their relationship beyond employer and heaven-sent angel into a fascinating Gen X/millennial friendship that draws out their similarities and differences. By doing so, ‘Tully’ floats the provocative notion that an implicit death comes with every birth: that of a woman’s younger, free-spirited self. While Cody has a twist up her sleeve that isn’t quite necessary, the alchemic trio have forge
White South African director John Trengove doesn’t take the easy route with his feature debut. It’s rooted in a culture to which he doesn’t belong – the country’s Xhosa tribe – and full of big themes of masculinity and sexuality. But with the help of co-writers Thando Mgqolozana and Malusi Bengu, and a gifted cast, he tells a powerful, sensitive tale of disaffected young men. The setting is a Xhosa ritual where adolescent boys are taken into the bush, circumcised and lodged in remote camps as a rite of passage into manhood. Factory worker Xolani (Nakhane Touré) is assigned as ‘caregiver’ to rich, stubborn Kwanda (Niza Jay) – but he’s more interested in fellow caregiver Vija (Bongile Mantsai), with whom he has a secret relationship. The three negotiate this environment in their own ways. Xolani is hidden in his desires; Kwanda challenges his mentor’s comforting lies; while Vija acts out a performative masculinity, deep in the closet and with a pregnant wife. His relationship with Xolani is almost violent, but it’s the quieter man who seems tougher underneath. It’s a strange mix: the posturing of the younger boys is funny, but behind their literal dick measuring is the threat of violence. If it’s sometimes reminiscent of ‘Moonlight’, this is an angrier condemnation of toxic masculinity and the damage that it causes.
As irresistible as the fresh carrots that grow in Mr. McGregor’s garden, Peter Rabbitgives Beatrix Potter’s classic a modern makeover, complete with intricate animation, cute quips for older audiences and a sweet-natured journey that has you rooting for a happy ending for all involved. Vying for gorgeous grounds and his human next-door neighbor (Rose Byrne), the audacious Peter Rabbit (confidently voiced by James Corden) goes head-to-head with sour Thomas McGregor (Domhnall Gleeson), who unexpectedly inherits the beautiful property of his estranged late uncle. The only thing the finicky Londoner detests more than the English countryside is the “vermin” inhabiting the land, so naturally we’re braced for a duel. Peter’s shenanigans, though certainly adorable, could have been curtailed for the sake of pacing: One electrocuting gag is plenty. But the lovable supporting crew—Flopsy (Margot Robbie), Mopsy (Elizabeth Debicki), Cotton-Tail (Daisy Ridley) and Benjamin (Colin Moody)—makes up for any overdone mischief. Some may cringe at director-cowriter Will Gluck’s modifications (a bunny that twerks, music from the likes of Vampire Weekend and the ubiquitous Rachel Platten), and the heart-wrenching backstory of Peter’s parents might not be appropriate for the smallest of bunnies. (Save this one for young rabbits who can handle more mature content.) It’s certainly a new spin, but those who make the leap will do so vigorously.
Howard Hall’s sub-aquatic 3D trip opens with one of the most effective IMAX sequences yet: a static shot of a calm lagoon so lifelike you might feel the urge to dip your toes. Then the camera dives beneath the surface and we’re presented with a kaleidoscope of sea creatures the likes of which few of us have seen. The effect is like immersing one’s head in a giant aquarium.The close-ups, too, are often breathtaking. When Jim Carrey’s sufficient voiceover describes the propulsion system of the bizarre leafy sea dragon, the camera closes in to reveal a row of microscopic fins seemingly invisible to the naked eye. It’s that kind of detail that makes a the film such an immersive experience. An educational one, too.
It’s 1843 and a firebrand young journalist gets into trouble with the German police for defending the rights of peasants to scavenge dead wood from a landowner’s forest. Five years later and Karl Marx, son of a Jewish convert, would co-write ‘The Communist Manifesto’, a defining moment in the history of modern thought. This sturdy biopic examines the formative journey between those two points, as Marx finds a trusted friend and collaborator in Friedrich Engels, and the rest is a radical new viewpoint on history as struggle. Given that the Marxist principles of workers-versus-capital still inform left-leaning thinking to this very day, it’s certainly useful to examine how they came into being. However, after the dazzling way in which ‘I Am Not Your Negro’, Haitian director Raoul Peck’s previous offering, connected past and present in considering the legacy of African-America writer James Baldwin, what’s on offer here is decent but slightly stodgy fare by comparison. True, it’s strong on showing how the turmoil of Marx and Engels’ everyday lives shaped their thinking, and its portrait of the fractious proto-socialist ferment of the time is undeniably fascinating – yet the film feels slightly constrained by the weight of all exposition and explanation it has to get through. It’s a worthwhile watch, but until the closing montage, meshing together a century and a half of subsequent history to the strains of Bob Dylan, it never quite thrills as much as you’d hope.