Ian Freer

Chinonye Chukwu’s restrained approach replaces dramatic fireworks with an absorbing, slow-burning study of a broken woman’s politicisation. She is superbly served by star Danielle Deadwyler, who transforms Till from a good film into a gripping one.

If it’s not God-tier level Kore-eda, Broker explores the toughest themes — emotional and physical abandonment — with the gentlest touch. Treat yourself.

Maestro never truly gets under its subject’s skin, but it’s mightily impressive, full of brilliant filmmaking, many memorable scenes and a superb Carey Mulligan walking away with the entire movie.

Generic title, strong movie. Relic is smart (but never smart-arse) horror. What it lacks in incident it makes up for in a troika of top turns and tangible tension in service to an interesting parable about the gnawing effects of dementia.

Apples is an offbeat treat that manages to embrace ironic distance and emotional weight through a prism of perfectly judged absurdism.

Having the mordant wit and tonal confidence to parlay The Troubles into a punchline, Kneecap has laughs, smarts and verve to spare. Get on board or, as the characters put it, fuck up.

Closer to the gentle humanism of Paterson than Jarmusch’s cooler, ironic output, Father Mother Sister Brother is a small-scale and singular treat.

Anchored by a superb Gemma Arterton, Their Finest is a funny, winning, beautifully acted ode to working women and cinema.

Boasting one of the most iconic characters ever in Plissken, and an effective sci-fi set-up, this is entertainment of the highest order.

Though it doesn’t ever make you really feel, Spencer is a bold, compassionate, poetic riposte to standard royal biopics. It 
also confirms Kristen Stewart as one of the most exciting actors working today.

Wildland is an original, a compelling gangster film unusually driven by women and told in stark, measured strokes. A unique calling card for director Jeanette Nordahl.

It might lack the edge of Godard’s own movies but this courses with love for cinema, creativity, youth, Paris and ’60s cool. Film history is rarely this charming.

Noah Baumbach’s great run continues. Sharp, fast and witty, it’s old school screwball comedy with a cool modern twist. And Greta Gerwig is a bona fide genius.

Small-scale and slow, The Kindergarten Teacher works best as a showcase for the brilliance of Maggie Gyllenhaal. Adding another complex character to her resume, it’s another reminder she is among the best actors working today.

With two astonishing child performances, Capernaum is a real heart-breaker. It can make Ken Loach look happy-go-lucky but it’s a gripping, sympathetic cry for the dispossessed.

Rough around the edges and too ambiguous for some tastes, this is grim but clever, insidiously creepy and affecting. And in Olsen and Durkin, it marks the arrival of two exciting talents to watch. It still should be called Mental Sex Cult.

The Two Popes shouldn’t work, a two-handed conversation about Vatican minutiae. But with great writing, smart direction and late career-high performances from Anthony Hopkins and Jonathan Pryce, it’s a high-end treat. Send up the white smoke, we have a winner.

Take out the BDSM, and Fifty Shades Freed would play perfectly as afternoon thriller on Channel 5. An end to a damp squib of a trilogy which sees Johnson as the only one to emerge unscathed.

The French Dispatch is a designed-to-within-an-inch-of its-life delight. If it lacks a compelling story, only one filmmaker could have made this film. And, in these cookie-cutter-director days, it’s a vision to be cherished.

A kind of Ken Loach does Shirley Valentine, The Escape is not a comfortable watch. But it is a rewarding one, thanks to Dominic Savage’s forensic investigation of a disintegrating marriage and career-best work by Gemma Arterton.

Belfast is exactly the kind of film that wins an audience award at a festival — highly entertaining and beautifully done without ever being innovative or challenging, finding the universal in the specific, the upbeat in dire circumstances. Slight but winning.

By The Grace Of God lives in the present, a fast-paced, exciting, beautifully played film that matches Spotlight as a searing portrait of modern heroes who stood up.

Song Without A Name is a true original, at once rooted in a raw emotional reality but told with the striking beauty of a dream. Writer-director Melina León is definitely one to watch.

Like Talk To Her, it doesn’t completely satisfy when it comes time to resolve its intrigue. But, as with their debut, the Philippou brothers show a real skill for creating believable teen characters, Barratt and Wong create a tender, affecting chemistry that make the chills all the more affecting.

An intimate, if unanalytical, portrait of one of movies greatest talents, told in her own words and through an adroitly assembled use of fantastic home movie footage. It’s also probably your only chance to see a Hollywood icon win a sack race.

Uneven in places, Pin Cushion nonetheless offers a moving meditation on what it feels like to be different, elevated by great work from Joanna Scanlan and newcomer Lily Newmark.

The filmmaking is exemplary but most impressive of all is the tone that mixes comedy, melodrama and darkness.

It comes on like an Unsolved Disappearance Movie but American Woman morphs into something more interesting, a portrait of a woman gradually finding her place in the world. And Sienna Miller is stellar.

Subject acknowledges sensitivities are shifting but also pointedly makes clear, for the damaged souls here, they didn’t change quick enough.

Lin-Manuel Miranda’s directorial debut is an affectionate, if flawed, Valentine to both musical theatre and the art of creativity — some bum notes, some strong moments. Tick, tick… the jury’s out.

Bad Luck Banging Or Loony Porn is a scattershot satire, wrapping its hit-and-miss point-making in a raunchy comic romp. Despite its faults, Radu Jude’s flick is one of the more audacious films of 2021.

It's one of the most highly-wrought (indeed, overwrought) films ever made, with art direction, editing, sound effects, weird camera angles and lighting orchestrated to fill every frame with hints of the unsettling.

Jeremy Hersh’s debut is naturalistic and well played. If it initially lacks momentum and oomph, the film becomes a multi-faceted look at issues surrounding surrogacy, anchored by Jasmine Batchelor’s central performance as a woman forced to make a life-changing decision.

Filmworker is an absorbing, important portrait of both a genius at work and the man behind the scenes who made the magic possible, whatever the cost to himself.

She Will is meditative horror, parlaying modern concerns through a thick, ancient atmosphere. It perhaps has too much on its mind, but Charlotte Colbert’s debut works as an imaginative and unsettling calling card.

Deyn is a revelation in a difficult but rewarding take on Scottish rural life. The most English of directors has done a Scottish classic proud.

Supernova is a tender two-hander that gradually crushes your heart. What it lacks in cinematic width it gains in well-earned emotional depth, courtesy of delicate writing and two subtle but towering performances from Firth and Tucci.

Part mystery, part black comedy, part metaphor for loss, Patrick is a nakedly true original. It also has the best caravan fight since Kill Bill Vol. 2.

It sounds like Big Brother on a boat, but The Raft is an absorbing portrait of a bold (or foolhardy) historical experiment that hits many of today’s hot-button topics, dominated by a compelling and complex central figure.

News Of The World is narratively slight, but it is a terrific showcase for two actors at completely different ends of their careers and a quietly emotional dispatch about two broken souls learning to heal.

A bizarrely strait-laced project for Todd Haynes, Dark Waters lacks dramatic oomph but compensates via a well-mounted telling of a terrifying story, driven by still contemporary concerns and a convincing central turn by Mark Ruffalo.

The Dig is well played, especially by the leads, and visually gorgeous, but it lacks fire and ironically doesn’t get under the surface of its story.

Two parts raw and real, one part manipulative, Coda finds engaging characters and real emotions in a hackneyed narrative arc. See it, though, for a terrific turn from Emilia Jones, if for no other reason than to say you were there at the beginning.

It is perhaps not top-notch Haneke but Happy End is an intermittently gripping film about loveless people in a joyless world. They could all do a lot worse than go on holiday with the characters from Paddington 2.

A smart riposte to the ’hood drama stereotype. Dope is funny, stylish and mostly exuberant fun.

JT LeRoy is a decent telling of a fascinating, resonant true story. If it never really fulfils its promise, it’s worth it to see two major talents — Kristen Stewart and Laura Dern — in full flow.

Paul Andrew Williams and Neil Maskell breathe new life into a familiar one-man-army scenario. Unrelenting, no-nonsense and hard-as-nails — just like its eponymous anti-hero.

A pressure cooker of a period picture, Brooklyn 45 is a smart take on the spooky séance staple, a film where the scariest spectres are the ghosts of the past rather than any pixel-packed phantoms.

It was always going to be hit-and-miss, but Homemade flits between creativity and indulgence in documenting the current crisis. If you want to cherry-pick, Larraín, Lello, Nyoni and Sorrentino’s efforts are top of the class.

Alice Lowe’s directorial debut may falter in its grip, especially in story and tone, but it’s a daringly evocative film that marks a filmmaker of imagination and promise.

A forced, over-ripe satire on the hunger for social media, bolstered by an engaging performance by Joe Keery. But if you really want to feel the real-life impact of the ’Gram on a young psyche, stick with Eighth Grade.

Whisper it. A Quiet Place Part II might lack the smarts and novelty of its predecessor but it serves up strong set- pieces, Millicent Simmonds shines and Krasinski remains a director to watch.

It should be a delicious chocolate gateau but Emma. makes heavy weather of Austen’s charmer, delivering a tonally uneven, mostly airless affair. Amy Heckerling’s Clueless — Emma in the Valley — remains the big screen benchmark.

A brilliant Sally Hawkins stands atop Craig Roberts’ perceptive look at mental illness. Small but beautifully formed.

Combining both the universality and specificity of Springsteen’s music, Blinded By The Light is an exuberant anthem to the importance of music, the need to be seen and the hope of new possibilities.

Even if it hits well-worn beats, Come As You Are still shines a light on the oft-ignored sexual wants and needs of the disabled community, with humour, empathy and poignancy.

The movie that really showed Tom Hanks' promise as a deliverer of great comedy and heart-warming pathos.

This is Steve McQueen’s most accessible film to date, without diluting any of his power. Mixing epic sweep with textured detail, despite an episodic second half it will make even the stiffest upper lip quiver.

If nothing else, Radical Dreamer is a never-ending stream of great anecdotes.

The film thrives on two performances: Barbaro is terrific as Baez, hypnotic on stage and fiercely charismatic off. And Chalamet inhabits Dylan without ever feeling like a Stars In Your Eyes contestant. From the voice to the charm to the earthiness to the self-centredness (‘You’re kind of an asshole, Bob,’ Baez tells him), Chalamet nails it all. It’s a shame Mangold’s safe flick doesn’t ask just that little bit more of him.

Anchored by great performances from Liam Neeson and especially Lesley Manville, Ordinary Love is alive to the feelings and moments other hospital dramas overlook. Its accumulation of details form a shattering whole.

Part film industry satire, part winning love story, Benjamin is low-key and shambling but emerges funny, bittersweet and affecting.

Truman & Tennessee: An Intimate Portrait’s staid approach doesn’t always cohere into a gripping yarn but it is detailed, boasts a real feel for the fiction and, in-between the two men’s rampant viciousness, emerges as undeniably poignant.

Filmmaker Bob Weide’s relationship with Kurt Vonnegut may detract from a more incisive critical portrait but it is sweetly etched, and the unparalleled access provides a comical, compelling profile of a singular figure in 20th-century American letters.

Togo is in a slightly more sombre register than Call Of The Wild but delivers similar sturdy pleasures; exciting dog-in-peril action and striking landscapes, all anchored by Dafoe’s grounded performance.

It’s a small, lightweight picture but Good Posture is alive to the messy realities of becoming a grown-assed adult, becoming more charming and involving as it goes on. It also suggests a bright future for writer-director Dolly Wells.

Held back by a more conservative aesthetic and emotional approach, One Life comes nowhere near the power and veracity of Steven Spielberg’s film. But it does have an ace in the hole in Anthony Hopkins, whose performance delivers a subtle but profound gut-punch.

Get Duked channels both Trainspotting and Deliverance to create a scattershot shotgun-blast of gags, gore and bedlam. Winningly performed by its young cast, it’s a (laminated) calling card for director Ninian Doff.

22 July takes a helicopter view of a terrifying, unthinkable tragedy, perhaps flying too high to capture all the nuance, complexities and emotion. Still it has great stretches and a terrific performance by Anders Danielsen Lie.

Centred by a committed, affecting performance by Noomi Rapace, Lamb gets over its longueurs and missteps with interesting ideas, filmmaking craft and a unique tone of voice. Also includes some of the best animal acting of the year.

And Then We Danced is a well-made love story, anchored by a mesmerizing Levan Gelbakhiani and enlivened by electrifying dance numbers.

On a par with "Inglourious Basterds" and "Django Unchained," The Hateful Eight starts low-key but ultimately delivers big, bold, blood-soaked rewards. Roll on, QT Western number three.

It’s very conventional in form and dances round his famous temper, but Never Give In touches on topics (class, identity) rare in a sports documentary, etching a moving portrait of a man reflecting on his past at a point when his memory is slipping away from him.

It says little that is new and lacks heat, but Wilson and Burke inhabit a compelling mismatched couple, with Wootliff finding cinematic ways to get under their skin. A flawed but admirable attempt to take the temperature of a dark, modern relationship.

More engrossing than both "Sully" and "The 15:17 To Paris," Richard Jewell is enlivened by Paul Walter Hauser’s breakout performance yet undone by a lack of subtlety and real dramatic wallop. Solid, dependable, very late period Eastwood.

Although let down by muddled plotting, The Night House is a low-key, well-made thoughtful horror flick, excellently played by Rebecca Hall.

A striking debut from a blistering talent. What it lacks in narrative oomph it makes up for in beautiful imagery, natural performances and a worldview all its own.

Like many sequels, Truth To Power is bigger but messier than its predecessor. While it doesn’t quite deliver the oomph of the original, it is still a timely, persuasive wake-up call.

Dream Horse is predictable and manipulative to a fault but, sparked by Toni Collette, there is a strong sense of sincerity and commitment to the subject matter that helps it across the finishing line.

Super skilled and eminently likeable, Nyong’o is a saving grace in the eye of the storm.

Despite half-a-dozen recent attempts to "correct" this biopic, Minnelli's agonised portrait of the life of Vincent Van Gogh remains the definitive movie word on the subject.

1666 mostly operates in a different register than 1994 and 1978, but is no less entertaining. It rounds off an ambitious triptych chock-full of horror-history allusions, strong world-building, sharp scares, palatable gore, lively filmmaking and a likeable set of characters. Other scary-movie franchises take note.

If Never Look Away is no The Lives Of Others, it is also a cut above The Tourist. A strongly crafted, ambitious, occasionally absorbing dissection of a fascinating period in German culture, it is perhaps too middle-brow and broad for its own good.

It's fun spotting stars under cakes of make-up and the panache, great supporting cast and good-natured, old-fashioned feel make for a better movie than you remember.

If it cleaves too close to convention and doesn’t land the ending, Concrete Cowboy is a striking debut, celebrating a long-overlooked tradition of Black cowboys via visually powerful filmmaking. And Caleb McLaughlin is superb.

Even if it doesn’t quite go beyond the bubblegum, Corbet’s fusion of A Star Is Born melodramatics with art-house stylings is cold, raw, dark filmmaking. And Portman, like her quiff, is an acquired taste but immense.

In some senses T2 shares elements with its Terminator namesake. It’s inventive and full of surprises. But unlike Cameron’s sequel, it doesn’t reimagine the original in quite the same glorious way.

Fear Street Part 1: 1994 is a wild ride through ’90s horror tropes that somehow feels affectionate and fresh. It is, as they said back then, insane in the membrane.

The most original film of 2021, Annette is a ride like no other, a spellbinding waltz in a storm. See it for truly hypnotic filmmaking, a clutch of great songs and Adam Driver at his most magnetic.

Finding laughs in the current global political quagmire is a tough ask. But Long Shot manages to spin a winning mixture of warm-hearted fantasy and comedic edge. And Rogen and Theron shine.

It’s not doing much daring or different but this delivers a fun, well-made summer theme-park ride, with fast highs and slow lows. Pleasurable, though it doesn’t linger.

The talking heads aren’t particularly revealing and there are some strange filmmaking choices. But McEnroe makes for incredibly likeable company and the tennis, as ever, remains sublime.

A modest, taut nailbiter. It lets itself down in the final third, but for the most part Oxygen leaves you gasping for air. And Mélanie Laurent, in practically every frame, is terrific.

Kravitz expertly flits between tension, horror, black comedy and social satire, sometimes delivering all four simultaneously. It’s a film about the abuses of power, the dangers of being a woman in a man’s world and the importance of female solidarity, but is never didactic, just gripping.

Russell Tovey gives a layered, career-best performance in an intense interior drama that never quite shakes its theatrical origins.

A potentially trite tale of an unlikely relationship is lifted immeasurably by Sophia Loren and is best viewed as a testament to the true power of the movie star.

Creed II is to Creed what the Rocky sequels are to the original: a more generic, less textured take on familiar boxing movie tropes. The difference, it seems, is Coogler.

An urgent rebuke to a country losing its conscience, The Report is rigorous but riveting. And Adam Driver — once again — emerges as one of the most watchable actors working today.