We start this one the only way we know how: Pete quits his job (casually), we open a bottle of potentially corked wine (possibly poisonous), and then—somehow—end up reviewing Avatar 3, despite half the room not even watching Avatar 2.

Pete’s approach is simple: he’s not here to defend or attack Avatar. He’s here to report back from the front lines of three hours and ten minutes of James Cameron doing what James Cameron does.

The setup (in plain English)

You’ve got:

• Jungle people (from Avatar 1)
• Sea people (Avatar 2)
• Now: Fire people (Avatar 3)

The grief and revenge angle ramps up after the events of the second film, and the new “fire clan” are positioned as more brutal, more pagan, and basically built to escalate the conflict. The humans (the “sky people”) are still doing what humans do: exploiting the planet, weaponising alliances, and trying to crack the next big advantage.

What we actually talk about

• Skipping straight to film three: why it’s weirdly possible, because these films run on a repeating template.
• Spider and the “air-breather” idea: a human kid embedded with the Na’vi, and the implications if humans can reverse-engineer breathing on Pandora.
• The fire clan: their volcanic backstory, their vibe shift from the earlier tribes, and the “new enemy faction” energy.
• The villain problem: how characters keep “dying” in ways that clearly don’t stick, setting up sequels forever.
• The big third-act battle: yet another massive end set-piece, but with a new environmental twist that feels… very convenient.
• The core contradiction: the storytelling is bloated and recycled, but the spectacle is undeniable.

The verdict

Pete’s take lands here: these films are ridiculous, repetitive, and absolutely stunning to look at. As cinema experiences, they’re hard to argue with visually. As stories, they’re basically a shiny loop — but a shiny loop that keeps making a billion dollars.

If you want to hear us:

• unravel the plot without pretending it’s deep,
• argue about whether Avatar has any cultural footprint at all,
• and admit (through gritted teeth) that Cameron’s visuals are still operating on a different level…

…this episode is for you.

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We love to hear from our listeners! By which I mean we tolerate it. If it hasn't been completely destroyed yet you can usually find us on twitter @dads_film, on Facebook Bad Dads Film Review, on email at baddadsjsy@gmail.com or on our website baddadsfilm.com.

Until next time, we remain...

Bad Dads

This week’s episode begins in full “Bad Dads” mode: we’re recording with barely any gear in sight, arguing about blinking lights, and realising—mid-flow—that “Island Week” might have scrambled everyone’s brains. But the chaos is fitting, because the film we tackle is The Island of Dr. Moreau (1996)… a movie so famously cursed it feels like it was assembled in a panic from whatever footage survived the production.

Based on the H.G. Wells story, it follows Edward Douglas (David Thewlis), a plane-crash survivor rescued at sea and dumped onto a remote island run by the mysteriously missing (and very infamous) Dr. Moreau (Marlon Brando). Douglas is told not to wander. Naturally, he wanders—straight into a nightmare lab of human–animal hybrids, bizarre rituals, and creatures that look like they were costumed by a school drama department on a tight deadline.

What we cover in the episode

• Why this film is notorious: the on-set chaos, the director being fired two days in, and the sense the final cut is basically a patchwork survival story.
• Brando’s “what am I watching?” performance: whiteface, robe, bizarre headgear, godlike status on the island… and an energy that suggests nobody was in control.
• Val Kilmer as peak 90s disaster energy: an increasingly unhinged presence, and how behind-the-scenes dysfunction seems to bleed into the film itself.
• The hybrids: early reveals, dodgy prosthetics, worse CGI, and one moment that completely breaks the brain (yes, a human-llama birth).
• The island society: worship, obedience via pain-inducing implants, and the whole thing drifting into cult vibes.
• When it goes full pantomime: the uprising, the armory, and the film’s most unintentionally hilarious image—a creature firing a machine gun with a hoof.
• A bleak, messy ending: power vacuums, violence, and an escape plan so flimsy the biggest concern becomes… why isn’t he wearing a hat?

The verdict

This isn’t a “good film” recommendation. This is a you-have-to-see-it recommendation. It’s only about 90 minutes, it’s weirdly breezy, and it’s endlessly watchable as a cinematic car crash—especially if you enjoy hearing us dissect disasters while laughing at the parts that clearly should not be funny.

If you like cult curios, notorious flops, and episodes where we’re basically reviewing the production meltdown as much as the movie itself—this one’s for you.

You can now text us anonymously to leave feedback, suggest future content or simply hurl abuse at us. We'll read out any texts we receive on the show. Click here to try it out!

We love to hear from our listeners! By which I mean we tolerate it. If it hasn't been completely destroyed yet you can usually find us on twitter @dads_film, on Facebook Bad Dads Film Review, on email at baddadsjsy@gmail.com or on our website baddadsfilm.com.

Until next time, we remain...

Bad Dads

This episode begins, as ever, in total disarray: missed jokes, football updates, wine anxiety, and the creeping realisation that the best material always happens before the mic is on. Then Dan drops a bombshell: The Night Manager is so tense he physically struggled to finish it.

And that’s the hook.

Based on John le Carré’s novel, The Night Manager is a six-part espionage thriller starring Tom Hiddleston as Jonathan Pine, a hotel night manager pulled into a covert operation to bring down international arms dealer Richard Roper (a towering Hugh Laurie). Set against the backdrop of the Arab Spring, it’s a story of guilt, infiltration, and moral compromise — where every smile hides a weapon and every ally might be a leak.

We talk about:

• Why this is one of the most gripping British series of the last decade
• Hiddleston’s transformation into a Bond-adjacent undercover operative
• Hugh Laurie’s chilling reinvention as “the worst man in the world”
• The mechanics of building a fake identity and earning trust from monsters
• Olivia Colman’s ferocious MI6 handler and the cost of doing “good”
• The unbearable tension of near-misses, close calls, and cliffhangers
• John le Carré’s MI6 roots and why his work still defines spy fiction

It’s sleek, paranoid, adult television — the kind where you pause episodes just to steady your nerves. With a new season finally arriving, this is the perfect moment to (re)discover it.

If you like espionage with teeth, villains who smile while they ruin lives, and stories where nobody is truly safe, this episode is your invitation to dive in.

You can now text us anonymously to leave feedback, suggest future content or simply hurl abuse at us. We'll read out any texts we receive on the show. Click here to try it out!

We love to hear from our listeners! By which I mean we tolerate it. If it hasn't been completely destroyed yet you can usually find us on twitter @dads_film, on Facebook Bad Dads Film Review, on email at baddadsjsy@gmail.com or on our website baddadsfilm.com.

Until next time, we remain...

Bad Dads