Adam Lowes

Diana Kennedy: Nothing Fancy is an affectionate and reverential look at a remarkable figure and a testament to her achievements within the Mexican culinary landscape.

Mystify: Michael Hutchence is an impeccably assembled, comprehensive tribute to a rock legend and is entirely worthy of being mentioned in the same breath as the aforementioned Winehouse doc.

The Man Who Killed Hitler and Then the Bigfoot is a thoroughly enjoyable and sneakily touching oddity which is entirely worthy of a big screen outing.

Chronicling the lives of himself and two friends from teenage years to young adulthood, director Bing Liu has crafted a rich coming-of-age odyssey which is, in turn, illuminating, sobering and ultimately uplifting.

Even if it does occasionally threaten to outstay its welcome with a 111-minute running time, the deeply engaging performances and that freeing and uninhibited Spanish flavour which Marques-Marcet brings to his English-language debut, means it’s the kind of world you really don’t mind lingering in.

While it’s obvious that fans of Lavelle and his many creative ventures will get the most out of The Man From Mo’Wax, this remains a fascinating insight into both the hubris and vulnerability of the music industry, which never shies away from casting it’s subject matter in a sometimes unfavourable light.

Skillfully mixing elements of horror while never alienating its core PG demographic, The 'Burbs also benefits from a wonderfully playful score by the late great Jerry Goldsmith. While the film bottles it slightly at the end with the obvious, neatly-tied-together resolution which would have benefited from maintaining an ambiguity, the enormous sense of fun established by Dante and his cast in the run-up more than makes up for any shortcomings.

We can all look forward to Hollywood completely dropping the ball with its inevitable remake, but until then, Train to Busan is the year's best genre offering by a zombie mile.

Richard Linklater once again casts his outwardly laid-back yet deceptively astute gaze on those loitering around the edge of adulthood with Everybody Wants Some!! - a joyous and often uproarious portrayal of college-age adolescence and the alluring freedom that brings.

You may have casually leafed through one of the photographer's books in the past, or even visited a gallery of this work, but this documentary is a must-see for anyone who has ever expressed an interest in this fascinating figure (and for those keen to witness what life is like on the other side of the lens).

If Northern Soul loses its way a little as the duo's friendship starts to unravel, with Constantine working in some unwelcome and unnecessary melodrama, this is a minor blip in what is an otherwise joyous and air-punching affair.

Over 60 years since its initial release, On Moonlight Bay remains a fun and charming snapshot of classic Hollywood.

It's hokey as hell in parts, and the director sometimes shows an uncertainty in tone (resulting in some performances which are pitched a little too broadly) but those imperfections lend an endearing quality to the film.

Pre-dating the release of Dennis Hopper’s 1969 American counter-culture classic Easy Rider by two years, Boorman’s Point Blank is also a very trippy, psychedelic affair. Marvin fending off two assailants behind the colourful, swirling backdrop of an avant-garde jazz gig is an evocative snapshot of that period, and just one of the many fetchingly abstract moments this strange and beguiling picture has to offer.

It’s often very amusing, sometime surreal, and the script is chock-full of some wonderful zingers, delivered with razor-sharp timing by the magnificent Stephens.

In many ways, Down by Law feels like the quintessential Jarmusch. It's a perfect distillation of that strange whimsy and resolutely deadpan humour - harvested via the director's life-long passion for world cinema.

Add to the mix gregarious powerhouse producer Dino De Laurentiis, plus regular Redford directorial collaborator Sydney Pollock and, unsurprisingly, the resulting film is a cracking thriller.

Much like the multitude of heady jazz numbers that flow throughout the film, Paris Blues is a cool, breezy and laid-back character-led romantic drama with strong turns by the four likable leads, not least the late, great Paul Newman, effortlessly exuding that trademark piercing blue-eyed intensity and magnetism.

Unlike some of the other blaxploitation titles from that time, Foxy Brown is more than just a curio piece. That’s partly down to its iconic lead, but it’s also due to a strong feminist attitude which exists within that riotous, eager-to-entertain, exploitation framework.

It’s the committed turn from Day-Lewis and Hanif Kureishi’s socially-astute, Oscar-nominated screenplay that manages to compensate for the film’s technical shortcomings, alongside the (then) landmark casual representation of a gay relationship on screen.

Pink Flamingos remains a delightfully repugnant cinematic treasure. Watching Divine as she struts her stuff amongst the genuinely dumbfounded residents of downtown Baltimore, perfectly encapsulates with Waters was reaching for with the film.

A resolutely offbeat film which offers a richly rewarding and affecting viewing experience if you’re willing to embrace it’s esoteric flourishes.

While Tarantino's recent output combines a strong craftsmanship and a deep reverence to their genre forefathers, it's Pulp Fiction which still wields that adrenalised needle of originality straight into the heart.

Raiders of the Lost Ark, the first in the series from Hollywood's own golden idols George Lucas and Steven Spielberg, is still the strongest by far and remains a thoroughly rousing and nostalgic delight to return to.

Perhaps given the ostensibly bookish subject matter, Waking Life has seldom been acknowledged as a legitimate innovator of the medium.

Four decades after its release, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre still justifies its place in the pantheon of all-time horror greats.

Like the best films from its genre, Seconds acts as a potent parable and posits an intriguing idea.