The Last Photograph Review (2026 Toronto International Film Festival)
When you think of loud, unapologetic maximalist filmmakers, Zack Snyder is probably the first to come to mind. From his debut, remaking one of the most important zombie films of all time with Dawn of the Dead, to having an entire movement dedicated to releasing his version of Justice League, he has become an auteur of our time, and one I’ve deeply admired. So, heading into his fully independent film The Last Photograph, I had no idea what to expect, and even after seeing the film, I still don’t quite know what to think.
We open on drug‑addicted war photographer Joe Wallace (Fra Fee) as he’s hooking up with a woman while a birthday party is underway for the children of a diplomat he happens to be staying with. Suddenly, gunshots ring out, and everyone at the party is killed except for the diplomat’s children and Joe. The diplomat’s brother, Ethan Black (Stuart Martin), travels to South America to avenge his brother and sister‑in‑law, whom he loved deeply, and to rescue his kidnapped nephew and niece. However, he needs Joe’s help to identify the gunmen.
Since I’m writing this in retrospect of the film’s premiere, it’s hard not to address the allegations levelled at it. It’s been called misogynistic, racist, gratuitously violent, and more. I don’t believe Snyder intended any of this, but I can understand why audiences walked away with these critiques. Many of the women in the film function primarily as objects to progress the male narrative, whether it’s the bizarre opening sex scene, the sister‑in‑law being photographed topless, or the random women who suddenly appear topless. There’s no real rhythm or reason for it.
The film also depicts naïve tribes as savages and much of South America as a third‑world wasteland run by gangs and criminals of every shape and size. However, without downplaying those moments, I found there were equally, if not more, scenes that were simply breathtaking, showcasing some of the best work Snyder has ever done. A particular burial sequence stood out as absolutely sensational in its beauty and horror, delivering one of the most powerful moments in the entire film.
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I found the violence to be necessary. The opening attack on the party is visceral in its horror, never downplaying the impact of a target being hit. Faces are torn apart by bullets, and as Ethan enacts his revenge, the violence evolves and becomes increasingly aggressive. Snyder clearly contrasts Ethan’s brutality, played well by Martin, with Joe’s standoffishness, well showcased by actor Free; despite never pulling a trigger, Joe is complicit in these hideous acts because he simply photographs the horrid aftermath. Other messaging is more muddled, particularly a recurring butterfly motif that I still don’t fully understand.
Snyder serves as his own cinematographer, and the film is utterly beautiful. He captures an intimacy with his subjects that I rarely see in contemporary cinema. Even though he relies heavily on shoulder‑rig shots, the camera never feels overly shaky; instead, it frames the horrors unfolding on screen perfectly. The score by Hans Zimmer, Omer Benyamin, and Steven Doar is truly mesmerising, from the opening moments to its beautiful conclusion.
Sitting here now after seeing the film, I can’t help but admire what Snyder is trying to do. It’s far from perfect, far from it, but The Last Photograph is a film made, for better or worse, by a singular visionary. And I would much rather see more films like this than formulaic, paint‑by‑numbers, easy‑money earners.
★★★
Had its world premiere at the 2026 Toronto International Film Festival / Stuart Martin, Fra Fee, Costanza Andrade, Marlon Moreno, Quique Mendoza / Dir: Zack Snyder
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