Redux Redux Review (Overlook Film Festival 2025)

High-concept Sci-Fi shocker blending narrative elements of The Terminator and Groundhog Day to entertaining effect.

Irene is a grieving mother trapped in a loop of addictive vengeance after her young daughter is tortured and butchered by short-order cook Neville. Traversing parallel universes in a Doc Brownesque metal coffin, she seeks a timeline where her child survives.

However, that goal has become muddied, and she is stuck multiverse murdering the serial killing chef “countless” times in a self-indulgent orgy of soul-destroying recompense. That is until Irene rescues runaway Mia from Neville’s sweaty clutches, reigniting her maternal instincts and forcing her to question the destructive cycle that entombs her.

The McManus brothers’ latest foray into genre territory is a blast. Pacy and incisive, it weaves through plot holes and dodges logic into the welcome arms of sporadic violence and knowing humour. It sets up its fancy premise and then gleefully torches it, encouraging the audience to look for the next blaze rather than sift through the ashes of explanation.

The brothers showcase their cultured palette with a throng of references, including Mad Max, Sliding Doors, and Back to the Future. Yet their film cultivates its identity with quirky side characters and a nonchalant attitude to throwing satisfying curveballs. Look out for a pair of nefarious smugglers operating in plain sight in the local newspaper classified section.

It may be a structural throwback to trashy 80s action flicks, but its central themes of loss and hollowness are handled with heart and maturity. For example, Irene has a ritualistic fuck buddy she knows will be outside a specific grief meeting and can seduce at will in every timeline. Played deftly by Jim Cummings, he has no idea he is being used as an emotional crutch. The last shred that keeps Irene human, if you will.

It’s a relationship with more than a whiff of selfishness, even abuse. However, it also highlights the desire for normality that still beguiles Irene’s ravaged mind. I couldn’t help but think how things might have panned out for Phil Connor if he had gotten laid in Punxsutawney on that fateful February day.

There are broad streaks of piquant irony running through Redux Redux. Of course, the glaring one is that, in theory, Irene has a multiverse body count just as high as Neville’s. But there are other more delicious examples, such as Irene murdering him every Thursday because that’s his payday. The fact he is self-financing his relentless slaughter is pure genius.

Although the carnage is well staged, it is also prudently rationed to allow for tonal stability. Often, the catalogue of killings is shown through brutal staccato montages as Irene contemplates and savours her handiwork. It’s a fascinating show of creative restraint that indicates a penchant for cinematic class rather than exploitation overload.

Casting their sister as the lead transcends nepotism, as Michaela McManus imbues Irene with a nuanced and enigmatic everywoman appeal. Physically convincing and emotionally engaging, this performance smooths the spiky narrative while rejecting simplistic catharsis.

Frenetic, feisty, and fun, this multiverse murder-fest will hold your attention without flummoxing you into a cosmological coma.