Chris Knight

Good One, a lesson in minimalist storytelling from first-time feature writer-director India Donaldson, is a movie that sneaks up on you.

It’s a well-made, witty movie that manages to send up some of the tropes of organized religion while simultaneously signaling that it is firmly on the side of the believers, and also managing not to annoy any atheists in the house. Jesus, it’s good.

Ultimately, Train Dreams is a unique concoction, and a journey worth taking for its own keening moments of grief and simple wisps of joy.

The film is long, a shade under two and a half hours, but Scott knows how to pace things so they don’t drag.

If The Old Oak is indeed the last film of the master, it’s a fitting sendoff for a director whose work will continue to echo for at least as long as Durham Cathedral has been standing.

I daresay this one was worth the wait. Though darker, visually and emotionally, than part one, and shorter — two hours and 18 minutes, down from two-forty — Wicked: For Good is still a rollicking good time.

Just strap in and let Skarsgard’s chain-smoking, proudly sober, pushed-too-far little guy take you on a helluva ride.

However you define it, it’s globally good fun.

What shines through in all these performances — and in recollections by Wilder himself and others — was a man dedicated to his craft and excited about the creative process.

It’s all freakin’ fantastic, a real all-night rave of a movie. But could we maybe just dial the whole thing down just a smidgeon? Could Challengers perhaps have given merely 100 per cent instead of 110?

I must admit I am something of an ignoramus when it comes to classical music, barely able to tell a violin from a viola. But Measures for a Funeral also has much to say on the broader subject of music, and indeed sound.

The Silent Planet is, at first glance, an ungainly pile of science-fiction tropes and platitudes that has no right to gel into anything cohesive or interesting. But do give it a second glance, because it does just that.

There’s violence aplenty, which is another reason the John Wick reference has proven so sticky.

The film is a potent portrait of the heavy bootprint that colonialism left on the African continent, but the childlike point of view makes it an eminently watchable story, with moments of levity and even humour.

One to talk about afterwards with your significant other — if the subject matter hasn’t made you terrified of spending too much time alone with them.

In the coming-of-age sub-genre of youthful rebellion and forbidden love, DJ Ahmet from Macedonian writer/director Georgi M. Unkovski is about as mild as they come. But that doesn’t diminish its crowd-pleasing pleasures.

The President’s Cake remains a lovely tale, with some sweeping, almost touristic views of Baghdad, and a slightly ambiguous downbeat ending.

Seeds tackles topics as diverse as agri-business, colonialism, intergenerational trauma and personal grief — not to mention the enduring and often overlooked heroism of house cats. Its drama will grow on you.

I’ll admit it: It wasn’t easy to say goodbye to the Seventh Earl of Grantham, his extended family and friends, and his retinue of below-stairs staff. But fortunately, the two-plus hours that is Downton Abbey: The Grand Finale provides many an opportunity for them to say goodbye to us, and to remind each other — and viewers — that history continues to march forward, and things must change.

For an animated character, Scarlet feels remarkably real.

There are, however, three things that elevate Shelter above a C average score. The first is Statham himself, an actor who knows how to stay in his lane (all those driving movies!) and do what he does best, which is to be brusque and to kill people. Second is director Ric Roman Waugh, one of those stuntman-turned-filmmakers, which means he knows his way around an action sequence better than most.

The Watchers is not a perfect movie, but it is an excellent start, heralding the arrival of a bold new talent.

Concrete Valley is a loving, lovely portrait of a corner of the city that, unless you live there, is probably either a blank spot on your map or a region you drive through to get somewhere else.

Still, it’s a fascinating psychological thriller, a ghost story with (as Dickens would say) more gravy than grave in its construction.

The End may literally be a little tone deaf, but it is not morally senseless.

If you want proof that hell hath no fury like an angry mom, look no further.

Kiss of the Spider Woman remains an engrossing tale in this new century, and a lovely paean to old movies and the thrills of getting lost in them.

In short, there is much to enjoy in Bonjour Tristesse, but the film as a whole never quite rises to the level of its best parts. And that’s a little sad.