Aussie and the Scotsman - Unfiltered Movie Podcast

This week we are reviewing Here, the 2024 drama directed by Robert Zemeckis — the man behind Forrest Gump, Back to the Future and Cast Away — starring Tom Hanks and Robin Wright, reuniting thirty years after Forrest Gump.
The camera never moves. Not once. For the entire 104 minutes, we watch a single corner of a room in New Jersey across thousands of years of human history — dinosaurs, Ice Age, Benjamin Franklin, a 1960s African American family, and a couple whose entire shared life plays out in that one fixed space.
It is one of the boldest formal experiments in mainstream cinema in years. The Aussie thinks it is the worst film ever put on this podcast. Worse than Duel. That is where we begin. The episode opens with dad jokes. The Scotsman has a list. He works through them methodically. The one about the librarian is not suitable for children or mothers-in-law. The Aussie counters with his one joke — the same one he has been using in sales presentations for twenty years. It lands. Barely. The Scotsman snickers. We move on. Then Here. The Aussie is furious before the discussion even properly starts. "I've never been so bored." "I would watch Duel before this again." "Zemeckis, Robin Wright and Tom Hanks should be embarrassed." Zero out of five. The first zero in the podcast's history. The Scotsman enjoyed it — or at least found something real in it — and spends a significant portion of the episode trying to explain what the film is actually about while the Aussie systematically dismantles every argument.
The question the Scotsman poses is genuinely moving. What happens to all the moments nobody filmed, nobody clapped for, nobody remembered — the quiet ordinary ones — if nobody is left to remember them?
The Aussie's answer: you write a diary. That is not a film. The Scotsman's counter: this film is the diary. The room is the diary. They go deep. The Scotsman asks the Aussie about the main room of the house he grew up in — the tiger couch, Carlton replays on a Friday night, his dad, his mum, his brother and sister, the whole architecture of a childhood. "Magnificent memories," the Aussie says.
And the Scotsman quietly says: that room is what this movie is about. The Aussie pauses. Then finds another hole in it. He is not wrong about the holes. Tom Hanks gets a fairly rough ride from the Scotsman, which nobody saw coming. "Acting arrogance" is the phrase used.
The AI de-ageing technology gets genuine credit — the most convincing yet achieved in mainstream cinema, developed specifically for this film, operating in real time on set rather than in post-production. The comparison to The Irishman is not flattering for Scorsese. The box office numbers land like a verdict. Fifty million spent. Sixteen million made. One of the biggest disappointments of 2024. The Aussie has never been more satisfied by a piece of trivia. Rohan Reminisces covers 2024 — Oppenheimer, Emma Stone, Ray Gun at the Paris Olympics, the Brisbane Lions, JLo and Ben, and a mahjong subplot involving the Aussie's wife that the Scotsman refuses to let go of. It spirals in directions nobody planned. Ratings: 0 out of 5 from the Aussie. 2.7 from the Scotsman. The gap tells you everything. The podcast is out now on YouTube and also available on Spotify and Apple Podcasts. Hit subscribe or follow — it genuinely helps the show keep growing. Thanks for listening.

This week we are reviewing The Big Lebowski, the 1998 comedy directed by Joel and Ethan Coen and starring Jeff Bridges, John Goodman, Julianne Moore, Steve Buscemi, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Tara Reid, John Turturro and Sam Elliott.
An unemployed LA slacker known only as the Dude gets mistaken for a millionaire of the same name, has his rug urinated on, and is dragged into a kidnapping plot he wants absolutely no part of. The podcast is out now on YouTube and also available on Spotify and Apple Podcasts. If you know someone who has been putting this one off for 28 years, send them this episode. Hit subscribe or follow — it really does help us keep going. Before the film, the Aussie arrives with a story about getting locked out of his Tesla because his phone died and being told by a man at a charging kiosk that it was $40 for the privilege — delivered so matter-of-factly he could not even get worked up about it. The Scotsman tops it with a story about a close friend who texted mid-tattoo to ask whether he should get the word grateful on his wrist, was told nope definitely not in no uncertain terms, and did it anyway. The Scotsman had never seen it. His entire expectation was a stoner film full of slow talking and not much else. He loved it. Watched it twice. Came in genuinely enthusiastic, started the podcast in a state of near euphoria, and then — about halfway through — talked himself back down to earth and landed somewhere a bit flatter than he expected. He is slightly annoyed at himself about this. The Aussie, who brought it to the show and had seen it many times as a younger man, is so relieved there is no fight that he almost cries. The film discussion covers all the key scenes — the rug, the bowling alley, the Big Lebowski's portrait monologue, the millionaire's daughter, the nihilists, and the funeral. The Aussie makes the case that "I don't roll on Shabbos" is the best line in the film and delivers it multiple times on air with enormous personal satisfaction. The Scotsman agrees the bowling alley scene is where the entire dynamic of the trio is established in a single sitting — the Dude reacting, Walter escalating, and Donnie being ignored — and that it is one of the most efficient pieces of character writing he has seen. John Turturro's Jesus Quintana gets his full moment. One scene, almost no plot relevance, steals the entire film. Both hosts agree the casting across the board is close to perfect and that you cannot imagine anybody else in any of these roles. There is also a debate about whether this film sits closer to Fargo or Pulp Fiction, a comparison between John Goodman here and his role in Flight, and the Scotsman running out of steam mid-episode and admitting it on air. In Rohan Reminisces, the hosts cover 1998 — Titanic winning Best Picture, Nicholson doing his OCD steps on camera, Matt Damon and Ben Affleck picking up their first Oscar, Google being founded, the Apple iMac G3, Bill Clinton and the dress, France winning the World Cup, Michael Jordan's last dance, and Frank Sinatra dying. The Scotsman has now covered 1998 so many times he calls for a format change. The Aussie takes mild offence. The trivia covers the budget, the underwhelming box office run, the real-life Dude who inspired the character and still shows up at fan events today, Jeff Bridges wearing his own clothes throughout, John Turturro building the Jesus Quintana character entirely himself with no script, and Lebowski Fest — a touring fan convention running since 2002. The film was selected for preservation in the United States National Film Registry in 2014. The Aussie lands at 3.6. The Scotsman comes in at 3.5. A rare episode where the scores are almost identical and nobody is yelling at anyone. The Scotsman signs off going to have a White Russian. Both hosts immediately realise they should have been drinking White Russians throughout.

This week we are reviewing Fury, the 2014 World War II combat film written and directed by David Ayer — the man behind Training Day and End of Watch — starring Brad Pitt as the battle-hardened tank commander Don "Wardaddy" Collier, alongside Shia LaBeouf, Logan Lerman, Michael Pena and Jon Bernthal. April 1945. Five men. One Sherman tank. Three hundred SS soldiers at the crossroads. This is not a film about glory. It is a film about what war costs. Before the film, the Scotsman wants gravitas. The Aussie does a wrestling announcement. Then two customer service stories — one so infuriating it nearly ends in a formal complaint, one so good it nearly ends in a marriage proposal to a man called John. You will know which is which within ten seconds. On the film itself — the Scotsman loved it. The Aussie did not. "It's Saving Private Ryan in a tank," says the Scotsman. "That's an insult to Saving Private Ryan," says the Aussie. And from there it only escalates. The Aussie thinks the glowing bullets look like Star Wars. The Scotsman informs him, with barely concealed fury, that tracer bullets are real, have existed for over a century, and are common knowledge to anyone with even a passing interest in military history. The Aussie had no idea. He is not quite embarrassed enough to back down. The dinner scene in the bombed German apartment divides them completely. The Aussie calls it a rushed love story. The Scotsman calls it the most human moment in the film. Neither will concede. The argument about whether Brad Pitt was a good leader or a man who walked five people into a suicide mission goes for longer than it should and gets genuinely heated. The one thing they agree on — and they do agree, eventually, reluctantly — is Pitt standing on top of the tank, absorbing fourteen thousand bullets, holding a conversation, while three hundred SS soldiers politely queue directly in front of him and apparently nobody thinks to go around the back. Even the Scotsman calls it. "Hollywood stupid." Coming from the man defending the film, that is saying something. Jon Bernthal is singled out as the standout performance. Shia LaBeouf gets credit where credit is due, and the Aussie admits the casting was not the problem — it was everything else. The bond between the crew, the claustrophobia of the tank, the way the film makes you feel the weight of what these men are carrying — all of it lands. The ending, however, does not. At least not for the Aussie. Rohan Reminisces goes deep into 2014 — and this week it is actually worth listening to. Real emotion, some genuinely shocking moments, and one answer from the Scotsman so wrong it causes actual pain. Trivia closes the episode and it is one of the best of the year. Do not skip the end. Ratings: 3.4 from the Aussie, 4 out of 5 from the Scotsman. The Aussie picks next. The Scotsman is already worried. The podcast is out now on YouTube and also available on Spotify and Apple Podcasts. Hit subscribe or follow — it genuinely helps the show keep growing. Thanks for listening.

This week we are reviewing the idea of the best first 30 minutes in film, a wide-ranging movie debate special built around opening scenes, opening acts and the moments that grab you by the throat before a film has even settled in.
From war epics and thrillers to blockbusters and classics, the Scotsman and the Aussie go head-to-head over which films do the heavy lifting early and why some movies can almost live off their opening half hour alone.
This episode starts in chaos, which is part of the fun. What begins as a simple idea — best first 30 minutes in movies — immediately turns into an argument over what the topic even means.
Is it the best opening act? Best opening scene? Best first half hour in strict terms?
The Scotsman calls it a shambles almost immediately, and from there the episode becomes one of those loose, unpredictable conversations where the detours become half the entertainment.
The pre-film chat alone is worth hearing. There’s a very funny and strangely relatable debate about people who overuse “sorry” and “thank you,” a pharmacy story that spirals into an unexpected misunderstanding, a comparison to Anger Management, and a running argument about sarcasm, tone and whether either host is actually funny.
Some of the sharpest laughs in the episode land before the movie talk even properly starts.
Then the film debate kicks in and the range is enormous. There are passionate cases made for Heat, Pulp Fiction, Jaws, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Saving Private Ryan, Apocalypse Now, The Shining, Goodfellas, The Silence of the Lambs, Rocky II, Top Gun, Back to the Future, Inglourious Basterds, Superman, Cast Away, Flight, Seven, Point Break and more. It’s one of those episodes where one title sparks another, then another, and suddenly you’re mentally rewriting your own top ten.
There are real debates here, not polite agreement. The Scotsman pushes structure, mood and tension.
The Aussie pushes payoff, set-up and series-building. They clash over whether a great opening has to sustain the whole film, whether a single scene can justify inclusion, whether chat-generated lists ruin spontaneity, and whether one of them may or may not be getting lazy.
Some of the funniest exchanges come from the argument over whether one host has secretly outsourced his taste to the internet. The pushback is constant.
There’s also a genuinely strong thread about what openings actually do. Are they about dread? Adrenaline? Character? World-building? Hooks? There’s a great stretch on why Raiders still works, why Jaws withholds brilliantly, why Saving Private Ryan changed war films, why Heat feels almost documentary-like, and why even a film one host dislikes might still have an extraordinary opening. That tension makes the discussion much better than a standard ranked list.
There are also several moments that feel like future episodes being born in real time. A possible whole episode built around just talking movies from memory. A walk down memory lane concept. A possible revisit of old episodes. Those loose moments feel like listeners are hearing the show being invented as it happens.
And then there are the quotes. Several are instantly classic. This was a nightmare. This was horrible. lands early. I don’t live within the lines, mate. I’m a free spirit. becomes a running joke. Give me the terms and conditions. becomes its own comic callback. And there’s a brutal line about sarcasm and being unfunny that nearly derails the whole thing.
Without giving anything away, Rohan Reminisces gets turned on its head this week in a way listeners will hear coming only if they catch a late twist in the episode. The trivia and film references teased throughout are also worth staying for, particularly if you enjoy obscure continuity details, sequel set-ups and the kind of movie memory only long-time obsessives tend to carry around.
If you love movie arguments, if you’ve ever said “that film had me from the first scene,” or if you’ve ever defended an opening sequence as better than some whole movies, this one is for you. It’s messy, funny, argumentative and full of big titles.
The podcast is out now on YouTube and also available on Spotify and Apple Podcasts. Subscribe or follow if you enjoy these film debates — it genuinely helps the show keep growing, and it helps more movie lovers find it. Thanks for listening.

This week we are reviewing Still Alice, the 2014 drama directed by Richard Glatzer and starring Julianne Moore as a brilliant linguistics professor who is diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's at fifty. Alec Baldwin plays her husband, with Kristen Stewart and Kate Bosworth as her daughters. Moore won the Academy Award for Best Actress. This is not a fun watch. It is, however, an important one. Before the film, the Scotsman arrives wanting to talk about chocolate — specifically a Scottish chocolate bar he still cannot name after thirty-odd years of trying to remember it. The Aussie is briefly invested. Then the Scotsman pivots to a newspaper article about ejaculation frequency and prostate cancer risk. Twenty-one times a month, apparently. The Aussie immediately asks to talk about Alice instead. The Scotsman says it is a public health matter. It is not a smooth segue. On the film. Both hosts agree it is uncomfortable, sad, and quietly frightening — particularly for two men in their early fifties watching a character their own age lose the thing she built her life on. The Aussie brought this one to the podcast after stumbling across it and being stopped cold by a single line: Alice, freshly diagnosed, tells her husband she would rather have cancer. Because at least cancer doesn't make you look stupid. That line. That is the whole film in one sentence. The Scotsman prefers The Father — with Sir Anthony Hopkins, — and thinks Still Alice plays it a little safe and a little Hollywood. The Aussie thinks it is more powerful than that and gives it a higher score. They debate Alec Baldwin's character at length — is he a decent man stretched to breaking point, or just a selfish husband who takes a promotion while his wife is disappearing? The Aussie is unequivocal. Hard no. He would not leave. He is slightly emotional about it. The butterfly scene stops both of them. Alice, in her clearest moments, records herself a message — five questions, and if she can't answer them, she is to take the pills she has hidden and not tell anyone. She forgets she made it. She stumbles across it later and tries to follow the instructions. The housekeeper comes home at exactly the right moment. Neither host quite knows what to do with that scene and both say so. The Scotsman is reminded about his panic attack story from the GFC — driving down Toorak Road, vision closing to a pinhole, heart going at a million miles an hour. He had no idea what was happening. The Aussie counters with a blood pressure episode in the middle of the night where he lay there thinking he would not make it to morning and decided not to wake his wife because, genuinely, what was she going to do. Rohan Reminisces goes into 2014 — and this week it is actually worth sticking around for, including a moment where the Scotsman looks directly at the answer and gets it wrong anyway. Ratings: 3.8 from the Aussie, 3 from the Scotsman. Watch The Father afterwards and come back and tell us which one hit harder. The podcast is out now on YouTube and also available on Spotify and Apple Podcasts. Hit subscribe or follow — it genuinely helps the show keep growing. Thanks for listening.

This week we are reviewing Sentimental Value, the 2025 Norwegian family drama written and directed by Joachim Trier, starring Stellan Skarsgard, Renate Reinsve and Elle Fanning.
Two estranged sisters are reunited by the death of their mother. Into this grief walks their father — Gustav, a once-celebrated film director who abandoned the family when the girls were young and who now arrives with a movie script, a plan, and absolutely no self-awareness.
It won the Grand Prix at Cannes 2025 and received nine Oscar nominations including Best Picture — the first Norwegian film to win Best International Feature Film.
Before any of that — the Scotsman has been on the Aussie's Instagram. He reads out the celebrity DMs. There is a message to Chris Hemsworth that contains the line "I thought I would to you." There is one to Kate Winslet addressed as "High Cake."
The Aussie knew the Hemsworth one was bad while he was writing it. He sent it anyway. Thor has not responded. Neither has Cake.
Then — the Perth fans. The Aussie had dinner with Simon and Matt, two of the most dedicated listeners in the show's history.
They told him Rohan Reminisces needs to go longer, trivia needs to go deeper, and nobody liked the name change. The Scotsman points out this is everything he has been saying for three years. The Aussie shrugs.
On the film. Both hosts loved it, and the conversation it unlocks is one of the best they have had.
The film is about a father who cannot have honest conversations with his daughters, so he writes them into a movie instead — and then wonders why they won't just get over it.
The Scotsman puts it best in the intro: "The story that follows is about what happens when art is used as a surrogate for the conversations a man cannot bring himself to have with his own children." 
The discussion goes deep — parental trauma, generational damage, a father who is cold versus one who is absent. 
Nature versus nurture spirals out from the film in a way that is genuinely thoughtful. The Aussie ties it back to broken homes. The Scotsman ties it back to school shooters. It goes where it goes.
The scene between the two sisters — one quietly admitting she tried to take her own life, asking if their father even knows — stops both hosts cold.
Elle Fanning slowly dyeing her hair dark and learning a Norwegian accent, trying to become the daughter this man cannot face, until she knocks on his door and tells him it should be his daughter doing this — is one of the best scenes in the film.
Rohan Reminisces does not happen. The Aussie arrives with nothing. The Scotsman points out that Matt in Perth walks specifically to listen to it on Saturday mornings. The Aussie promises to do better.
Trivia: nine Oscar nominations, Grand Prix at Cannes, 19-minute standing ovation at the premiere. The Scotsman notes that 19 minutes is long enough to soft boil an egg or drive across central Oslo.
Stellan Skarsgard — father of eight, four of whom are working actors including Alexander, Bill, and Gustaf — neither confirmed nor denied that Gustav was drawn from his own life.
Ratings: 4.2 from the Aussie, 4.5 from the Scotsman. One of the better ones this year.
The podcast is out now on YouTube and also available on Spotify and Apple Podcasts. Hit subscribe or follow — it genuinely helps the show keep growing. Thanks for listening.