Andrew Scott finds levels of complexity in a stoic character based on meteorologist James Stagg, the man who persuaded Eisenhower to delay Operation Overlord, for this slick wartime drama

The historic gamble of D-day 1944 gets a new perspective in this slick and watchable, if slightly cheesy and unreflective, period drama, whose staginess reflects its origins in theatre; David Haig adapts his play with the director Anthony Maras. Andrew Scott – in RAF uniform, short-back-and-sides and ’tache – plays James Stagg, a brilliant Scottish meteorologist attached to the military during the war. Stagg arrives at the top-secret allied base of Southwick House in Hampshire stubbornly intent on telling allied Cmdr Dwight “Ike” Eisenhower, bullishly played by Brendan Fraser, that he has an outlier forecast of bad weather, which means D-day should be delayed from Eisenhower’s planned date of 5 June.

This is to the rage of Col Irving P Krick (Chris Messina), the swaggeringly gung-ho American meteorologist who has always had Ike’s confidence until now. And if we were unsure about this character’s brash-Yank status, in his opening scene he literally shimmies and bops to the Andrews Sisters’ Boogie-Woogie Bugle Boy in the operations room to the uptight, thin-lipped astonishment of Stagg who, as overall commanding officer, tells the Americans to get that piano out of there.

A behind-the-scenes second world war drama focused on the importance of weather is too stodgy and repetitive to work as anything but a so-so TV movie

In a world of increasingly segmented audiences, the new movie Pressure cleverly brings together two adjacent demographics: weather dads and history dads. Those designations are honorifics, not gender-essentialist; spiritually dad-curious people of all ages (but, let’s be real: mostly over 50) may be interested in a behind-the-scenes story set in the last few days leading up to the allied invasion of Normandy in June 1944. Because this is the largest-scale seaborne invasion ever mounted, weather is a major factor, and the movie follows military higher-ups as they work around the clock trying to figure out whether a possible incoming storm will create unfavorable or impossible conditions.

To put it in contemporary terms, this is essentially a movie about Dwight Eisenhower (Brendan Fraser) nervously refreshing his weather app to see if he needs to change his upcoming plans. The weather app is played by Andrew Scott. Scott’s actual character is James Stagg, a somewhat brusque and chilly Scotsman brought in to the D-day planning as the operation’s chief meteorological officer. Stagg quickly clashes with the American Irving Krick (Chris Messina), who knows that D-day is crucial and time is of the essence – and is therefore bullish about (selectively) using past data to “predict” that the storms will quickly pass. Stagg’s analysis is far less optimistic. Anyone who has held tickets to a forecast-dependent outdoor concert will relate.

With audiences fatigued by endlessly interconnected mashups, studios are reverting to movies with one storyline that ends in a natural conclusion – what a radical idea

The news this week that Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weisz are to return in a new Mummy film for the first time in a quarter of a century feels a bit like Hollywood stumbling out of a very long house party it doesn’t entirely remember attending. The last time the pair appeared together was 2001, when The Mummy Returns (itself an insipid sequel to 1999’s much better The Mummy) hit multiplexes. Since then we’ve had a spin-off (2002’s The Scorpion King, featuring an early turn from Dwayne Johnson) and a second sequel that didn’t feature Weisz, 2008’s forgettable The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor.

And then, of course, there was the ill-fated “Dark Universe”, forever immortalised by that solemn publicity photograph of Russell Crowe (Dr Jekyll), Javier Bardem (Frankenstein’s Monster), Tom Cruise and Johnny Depp (The Invisible Man) staring into the middle distance like an ageing goth supergroup. The plan was to launch an interconnected saga in which Jekyll would act as a sort of monster-movie Nick Fury, corralling Dracula, Frankenstein and assorted undead assets into a synergised Marvel-style cinematic ecosystem. Fortunately it rapidly fell apart: 2017’s Cruise-led The Mummy landed with all the grace of a cursed sarcophagus dropped down a lift shaft. And that, as far as the Dark Universe was concerned, was that. Universal pivoted to smaller films such as Leigh Whannell’s The Invisible Man, while Bardem’s Monster and Depp’s Invisible Man never materialised at all.

It was a great year for Sinners and One Battle After Another but films with megastars like George Clooney, Julia Roberts and The Rock all struggled

Last year’s Oscars narrative might have been more about the little films that could, from The Brutalist to Anora to Emilia Pérez, but this year has become closer to the opposite with big-budget films like Sinners, One Battle After Another and Frankenstein all leading the way.

It’s therefore not quite as easy to explain why some of Hollywood’s biggest stars, from Julia Roberts to Dwayne Johnson to George Clooney to Emily Blunt to Adam Sandler, found themselves removed from the race. So here goes …

Fraser plays a hapless Tokyo-based actor working for a firm that offers bespoke therapeutic role-play services in director Hikari’s silly and saccharine film

Brendan Fraser is a bland and ingratiating presence in this glib, silly and pointless film from Japanese actor turned director Hikari. It is bafflingly complacent in its sentimentality and its sheer, fatuous implausibility, which makes it valueless and meaningless as drama and comedy.

Fraser plays Phillip, a hapless unemployed actor from the US who a few years previously came to Tokyo to do a goofy TV ad for toothpaste and, having no friends or family back home, simply stayed on. He lucks into a weird new source of income: working for a “rental family”, based on firms in Japan which really do offer bespoke therapeutic role-play services, such as errant spouses, deceased loved ones or unsatisfactory co-workers – people who can be chatted with, or mourned, or yelled at for cathartic purposes.