 A film in three minutes. Matilda. Alright, let's get one thing straight. I'm smart, you're dumb, I'm big, you're little, I'm right, you're wrong. And there's nothing Mara Wilson, star of the hit family film Matilda, can do about it. Or is there? This 1996 film adaptation of the best-selling book written by celebrated and controversial children's author Roald Dahl is a moving, zany, and often-at-times terrifying experience that combines Dahl's trademark dark macabre themes with a hyperactive energy, sinister art direction, a charming cast of adult and child actors, and a beautiful message about staying true to yourself even if you feel like you don't quite yet belong. The story follows troubled youth Matilda, a child genius who continually struggles to fit in with her parents, the unscrupulous Wormwoods, played by Danny DeVito and his real-life wife Rhea Perlman. After discovering a passion for reading, Matilda realises that she possesses telekinetic powers, powers which bring her to blows with the principle of her new school, the ghastly mistrunchable, played by Pam Ferris. However, a ray of sunshine does indeed exist for Matilda as she quickly becomes friends with the lovely Miss Honey, whose own troubled past helps the young girl realise that she is not alone in this world. If, like me, you grew up in the 1990s, then it was virtually impossible not to have seen or at least been made aware of this film after its release on home video. Mara Wilson briefly became the best-known child star of her era after Macaulay Culkin of Home Alone fame and, just before Daniel Radcliffe would be cast as Harry Potter. But the film's long-term success did not just depend on a convincing child actor, but also on the twisted, morbid imagination from Dahl's book that director DeVito brought to life for us on the big screen. His Burton-esque direction of Matilda's world, with its stylish depiction of twisted settings and inhabitants, visually sets Matilda apart from other children's films from that decade. The oppressively bleak Crunchham Hall, with its terrifying Chokey or Miss Trunchbull's Manor House, act as cases in point. Pam Ferris' performance as the authoritarian Trunchbull must be remembered as one of the scariest villains from a children's film in recent memory, with her image, manner and dialogue never failing to become more disturbing as the story progresses. The film's no-holds-barred approach to tackling themes such as bullying, death, parental and emotional abuse, as well as isolation and neglect, reinforces Matilda's strength as a movie aimed at young audiences that is unafraid to tackle such issues rather than staying well clear of them. And on a sadder note, Matilda is one of the very few films I can think of that encourages children to enjoy one of the most wonderful things there is in life, the joy of reading. With a final message that acts as a reminder that where you come from doesn't make you who you are, only incredible intelligence and telekinetic powers do. Wait, is that right?