Alex Godfrey

In years to come, when this appears on TV late at night, it’ll be impossible to switch off. It’s just one of those films. A stone-cold, instant classic.

War is hell, and Warfare refuses to shy away from it. Free of the operatics of most supposed anti-war films, it’s all the more effective for its simplicity. It is respectfully gruelling.

The most batshit music biopic since Todd Haynes did the Karen Carpenter story with Barbie dolls, Michael Gracey pulls off the biggest cinematic surprise of the year. An absolute blast. 

Operating at the peak of his powers, Luca Guadagnino has the time of his life with this practically sadistic exploration of unrelenting obsession. It is horny, it is hungry, it is phenomenally exciting filmmaking.

Zen and the art of toilet cleaning? You’d better believe it. This is as gentle as it gets — a humble little film, maybe, but an enriching one. It’s a soul-cleanse.

A striking, unforgettable exercise in absence, this is about what we don’t see — and what we choose not to see. The horror is unseen but underlying, and all the more arresting because of it.

It’s hard to think of another recent drama that feels so brazenly personal, so yearning, so naked and vulnerable. It feels like forgiveness, for Haigh himself, and maybe for others. He’s letting it all out. These characters are a lifeline for him, too.

An inspired, soulful piece of sci-fi, the endlessly stunning visuals all in service of a heartfelt, sensitive story. Gareth Edwards is the real deal — this is fantastic, enveloping cinema.

This one’s an endlessly thrilling, continuously propulsive beast, tense from the start: even the quieter, conversational scenes have you on edge. Mission, once again, accomplished.

Serving up stone-cold multiplex mayhem, Sisu makes no bones about it — this is a film about one mad bastard killing a gazillion Nazis. It’s almost impossible not to love it.

A beguiling and often brutal look at the life of a donkey, this hijacks your heart, your mind, your ears and your eyes from start to finish.

In two-and-a-half hours, a decade of Spielberg’s own life flies by. An autopsy of a marriage and a homage to invention, it’s a bittersweet piece of joy.

Guillermo del Toro’s perspective runs through every frame of this unique retelling, which isn’t afraid to tackle troubling themes. A sincere, soulful exploration of what it means to be human.

Both a coming of age and an exploration of an era, this self-biographical reminiscence feels both regretful and hopeful – a filmmaker trying to make peace. It’s not sugar-coated, but it’s full of love.

A claustrophobic portrait of pre-adolescent turmoil, this is an exceptionally taut drama. It’s Wandel’s debut feature, and it feels like she’s been preparing for it her whole life.

A beguiling and beautiful film about a total toerag, Red Rocket is a unique character study: Mikey Saber will charm your socks off, and you’ll hate him for it.

There’s palpable dread throughout this stagey but nevertheless evocative whirlwind of dysfunction. It’s a gripping, appropriately stifling experience, and the feelings — the fear, the disappointment, the unhappiness — hit home.

This charmingly odd tribute to Sorrentino’s formative years is slighter than it possibly deserves to be, but when it’s this handsome, who cares? Will have you absolutely salivating for Italy.

As stirring and heart-warming as you’d like, this is a hugely touching family opus. It’s nothing revolutionary, but it’s straight from the heart and gets you in the gut.

A film as sweet as it is sad, as pertinent as it is absurd, Limbo is an experience where not much seems to happen but where little things mean the world.

A perfectly painted portrait that also makes for sharp social commentary, this just goes to show what you can do with a tiny budget but a huge amount of talent.

While not exploitative and (mostly) not gratuitous, this is as tough as it gets — you bleed for this kid. Even if it gets a bit too much, you just can’t look away. Thrilling filmmaking.

Once again seizing control of the medium, Nolan attempts to alter the fabric of reality, or at least blow the roof off the multiplexes. Big, bold, baffling and bonkers.

A filmed stage show with barely any bells and whistles, this is an endearing trip through time, via a band who constantly changed the game. And the music is immense.

Sweetening up a smidgen without chilling out, this is Miike having fun, bombarding us with squirm-inducing violence while making us laugh and — ever so slightly — tugging on the heartstrings.

A compassionate meditation on love, loss and family, Waves is hyper-stylish yet emotionally grounded. Despite some very high drama, it has a huge heart, and hits you where it hurts.

Somewhere between a primal scream, a self-acceptance and even a forgiveness of sorts, this is an utterly unique bit of autobiography. Brave, bold, and a little batshit.

Although 1917’s filmmaking very much brings attention to itself, it’s an astonishing piece of filmmaking, portraying war with enormous panache. This is big-screen bravado, and then some.