John Nugent

Monumental stuff: a story about the deadly legacy of America’s colonial sins, both vast and intimate in scope. Exceptional filmmaking, by an exceptional filmmaker.

It’s a simple but artfully effective debut feature from Irish filmmaker Colm Bairéad, with a remarkable, heartbreaking debut performance from Clinch, whose face betrays anxieties she doesn’t yet fully understand.

Haunting, serenely composed and beautiful, this is an elegy for a life and a country that America used to be. 

Absolutely batshit, utterly filthy and a true original: Poor Things is as good as Yorgos Lanthimos and Emma Stone have ever been.

A treat. With astonishing craft and visual storytelling that howls from the screen, Cartoon Saloon have surely secured their place in the animation hall of fame.

A film that recognises there is no single answer to questions like ‘who are you?’ or ‘where do you come from’. Stirring, constantly surprising stuff — with an arresting debut turn from Ji-Min Park.

A thoughtful, meditative thesis on humanity’s relationship with nature, filmed with the kind of cinematographic beauty most fiction filmmakers can only aspire towards.

It isn’t always subtle, but Blue Jean is a gorgeously presented, stirringly performed slice of British queer history that announces director Georgia Oakley and actor Rosy McEwen as major talents to watch.

A mesmerising, wondrous example of animation’s potential; a thoughtful allegory about ecocide and death; and an adorable ode to four-legged (and two-legged) friends. No ebbs here: Flow is the real deal.

A hugely impressive debut. Personal and political, this is a tender and spellbinding depiction of family in fraught times.

A rivetingly weird and exceptionally beautiful fantasy film that offers no easy answers but ponders the biggest questions — through myths, mysticism, and men in crisis. This is major stuff from David Lowery.

Its pleasures lie in the dialogue, the twists, the reveals. It all leads to a delightful Agatha Christie-style drawing room denouement, in which the rat is exposed, their best-laid plans laid to waste. Like the film as a whole, it’s deliciously, lip-smackingly satisfying.

With strong performances in service to a clear, confident vision from Chloé Zhao, this is a wrenching contemplation of the “undiscovered country” of death and grief.

Warmly funny and historically curious, Sally Hawkins’ spirited, humane performance helps overcome a slight lack of dramatic tension.

A storming debut from writer-director Saim Sadiq: emotional, tender, and quietly radical. With any luck, it will herald a new era for Pakistani cinema.

Ridiculously charming, immensely funny, and shot with an unusual zestiness, Rye Lane is purely joyful company — and a shot in the arm for future romantic comedies.

A remarkable, first-hand insight into how a modern-day police state operates, and how any kind of meaningful opposition can exist — as terrifying as it is hopeful.

Cleaner has good people behind it but this British attempt at a Die Hard ends up just being a bit of a mess. Yippee-ki-nay.

A devastating, urgent reminder that art can be dangerous and important and political and powerful — especially in ten-inch heels.

A hugely accomplished horror achievement, and a significant step up from Barbarian: tense, sad, hilarious, unsettling, ridiculously entertaining, and ultimately oddly uplifting.

It doesn’t quite successfully balance its warring tones, but a winningly grumpy performance from Tom Hanks — and a winningly sunny one from Mariana Treviño — ensures for a very watchable take on the ‘giving life another shot’ subgenre.

The chassis may look familiar but there is a very different engine driving Furiosa from that of Fury Road: it’s a rich, sprawling epic that only strengthens and deepens the Max-mythology. It shall ride eternal!

A fizzy, gaudy, joyfully entertaining couple of hours. If there’s any right in the world, Rian Johnson and Daniel Craig will continue making films in the Benoit Blanc Cinematic Universe forever.

Really quite something: a rare remake that only augments and enriches the original. For Bill Nighy, meanwhile, it feels in every sense like the role of a lifetime.

About as powerful as cinema gets. Its hybrid blend of documentary audio and devastating dramatisation is heart-wrenchingly, shatteringly effective.

Gothic, iconoclastic, engrossing, slyly excoriating of modern-day America and very funny to boot, it’s another solidly satisfying whodunnit from Benny B. Keep them coming, please.

Another solidly gripping film from the ever-prolific Soderbergh, this is a terrific two-hander, with Coel and McKellen on fine, fierce form.

Funny, profound, weird, sad, and gorgeously constructed — Marcel is a true original, liable to melt even the most cynical heart. A very special shell indeed.

It’s nonsense — but at the very least, well-meaning nonsense.

This unconventional love story — which plays like a Richard Linklater film set in the Arctic circle — is a total charmer, and will have you reaching for an Interrail ticket immediately afterwards.

A brilliant, bizarre, occasionally grotesque, horror-inflected cinematic delicacy. Sounds like a Peter Strickland film, then.

With a brisk, biting comic tone and a nice line in righteous anger, Dumb Money skilfully picks up The Big Short’s baton for cinematic-economic takedowns.

A dreamlike time capsule of a historic event, told from a kid’s perspective and rendered in beautiful animation — only Richard Linklater could have made this film.

More family-friendly than for-all-ages-friendly — but lively work from the thriving Sony Animation makes this energetic Lin-Manuel Miranda musical mostly worth your time.

The result is a film that has a better chance of producing a belly laugh than any in recent memory: one that deserves, as Drebin would say, “20 years for man’s laughter”.

An effective and unsettling allegory for growing up, this is the kind of low-key horror that will make you look twice at cherub-faced youngsters.

By turns heartwarming and heartbreaking, this is a fascinating and funny twin portrait of a Hollywood rise-and-fall, and the realities of living with Parkinson’s. It only confirms what we already knew: Michael J. Fox is one of the greats.

A sweetly pitched — and appropriately unorthodox — tribute from a movie megastar son to his filmmaking legend father.

The cinematic equivalent of being teabagged without your consent.

Killer Of Killers looks the business and comes with all the gory kills and human heroes you’d hope for, but like most anthologies it is a little hit-and-miss.

Mesmerising and mystifying, in equal measure. Enys Men confirms Mark Jenkin as one of the most exciting, original cinematic voices in the UK right now.

Thoughtful, emotional and often surprisingly funny, Terence Davies offers a rich if inconsistent portrait of a unique poet long deserving of a big-screen study.

If you liked Enchanted, this is a dependably familiar serving. In an era where Disney is constantly raiding its archives for intellectual property to remake, this is a sequel that feels unusually original by comparison.

A very watchable old-school blockbuster crowd-pleaser. Ryan Gosling and an alien made of rocks are the best space-based double-act since R2-D2 and C3-PO.

It’s hard not to get swept up in some evocative, gorgeously staged filmmaking here. But Empire Of Light often seems a little confused about what it is trying to achieve.

Another stunning adaptation of the classic anti-war novel: epic and horrific, in equal doses. War has rarely felt this wretchedly, desperately pointless.

Tense, stressful and savagely staged, this is a scarily good debut from YouTubers Danny and Michael Philippou. Be sure to hold someone’s hand while watching.

An energetic, urgent and damning assessment of our prison crisis, Wasteman marks Cal McMau as an exciting new homegrown director.

Moving and musical, this is a striking portrait of courage and creativity in the face of some horrific odds chucked at you by life’s lottery.

Truly delightful. Wes Anderson leans into his trademark eccentricities for a trip to the desert that won’t win any converts but will keep the Anderson faithful content.

A funny, filthy, iconoclastic riot. Paul Verhoeven’s latest erotic satire won’t be for all creeds, but it is bursting with enough ideas that even doubters can find something to believe in here.

Another smash from Cartoon Saloon, at once heartily funny and heartfelt. With this and The Breadwinner, director Nora Twomey is now two-for-two.

As a political statement, Civil War is provocative and occasionally exasperating; as a purely cinematic experience, it is urgent, heart-in-mouth, extraordinary stuff.

Madder than a bag of cats. Quentin Dupieux’s latest is even more absurd — and more pointless — than his film about a sentient car tyre. But it’s cheering to know he is still being allowed to make this sort of bollocks.

Part arthouse-Twilight, part John Hughes-ian coming-of-age romance, part Bonnie And Clyde cannibal remix, part dreamy Wim Wenders-esque road trip. This is gorgeous, gruesome work from Luca Guadagnino.

Inventively animated, giddily funny, and a surprisingly authentic take on the outsider experience: it is virtually impossible not to be charmed by these reptilian bros.

The kind of heist movie that will steal your affections from under your nose. An Ealing-esque comedy with its heart exactly in the right place, it proves a fitting farewell for the multitalented director, Roger Michell.

Silly, strange, and very funny, Dream Scenario is a psycho-comic-drama with a peak Cage Renaissance performance powering it. Don’t sleep on it.

It’s a very straightforward story, but there is no doubting the heartfelt nature of the telling — and the subject matter is unimpeachable. John Williams was the best to ever do it, and this film is a good reminder of how, and why.

An affectionate road-trip buddy-movie, featuring an unseen depth to Will Ferrell, this documentary is illuminating, timely, and gently funny.

Kill lives up to its name, and then some: this is a breathless, ferociously gory action film, on a level rarely seen before in Indian cinema.

An emotional, incredibly intimate portrait of one man’s final days. Ondi Timoner’s documentary avoids the political aspects of the process, focusing squarely on the personal impact. The result is moving, humane, and cathartic.

Don’t call it a comeback — but this is really strong stuff from Pixar: funny, thoughtful, sweet, making for a heartfelt paean to nature, and beavers in particular. Dam good.

A riveting revenge riot, with gobsmacking levels of film craft, and a performance from Michael Fassbender to make your blood run cold. It’s not quite top-tier Fincher, but it comes damn close.

It’s never quite as satisfying an experience as Schitt’s Creek — but thanks especially to a sparky trio of actors, Daniel Levy’s directorial debut is strong when it comes to the heartache of grief and the importance of friends.

If this is to be a swansong, it’s a fitting one: a thrillingly watchable legal thriller about truth, justice and (for better and for worse) the American way, as told by an all-American icon. 

As a sensitive portrait of what college is like for the awkward lonely types — and an ode to just staying up late and shooting the sh*t — Freshman Year is a funny, tender treat.

A feverish, quietly sad exploration of longing and infatuation. Its lack of focus stifles the experience, but Daniel Craig has rarely been as compelling a watch.

Riveting, unhinged, and sardonic to its honey-soaked core, this is another Lanthimos-Stone winner. (With a great opening-title typeface, to boot.)

It might look at first glance like another goofy CG distraction-fest, but this is that rare family-friendly film bursting with ideas and challenging concepts. It’s Charlie Kaufman’s introspective existential dread — for kids!

A visually arresting new entry in the Dracula canon; if only the satire was as biting as its unlikely vampire star.

A special sort of film, one which can be enjoyed as a dark climate-change allegory and a bright, colourful, emotional yarn on friendship and family. Fantastique!

Essentially “Men will literally do stand-up rather than go to therapy”, in cinematic form. An appealing tragicomedy-drama, told with veracity and heart by Cooper, Arnett and Dern.

Matt Reeves’ arrival in the Bat-verse is a gripping, beautifully shot, neo-noir take on an age-old character. Though not a totally radical refit of the Nolan/Snyder era, it establishes a Gotham City we would keenly want a return visit to.

A true original: an impressionistic portrait of a lost life, recreated in multiple forms with a gorgeous soundtrack. Odd, but unique.

The rare teen movie that recognises crushes are never as important or powerful as BFFs — and one that marks an intriguing new direction for Adam Sandler’s Happy Madison productions.

With some genuinely shocking moments, this is a fascinating, frightening —  if frustrating — account of masculinity in crisis.  

Anyone looking for a revelatory portrait of an iconic artist might be a smidge disappointed. But as conventional as it is, this is still a strikingly well-made musical drama with pitch-perfect performances. Don’t criticise, as Dylan once sang, what you can’t understand. 

Bruising and beautiful in equal measures, La Mif is an impressive slice of social realist drama that feels rooted in something real — because it is.

Jacques Audiard’s outlandish musical thriller is a little jumbled, and a little misjudged in the treatment of its characters. But you can’t doubt its audaciousness.

An apt tribute to a major figure in film history. The talking heads and archive clips do the job — but hearing it told by Sidney Poitier himself is the real treat.

Just lovely. Tourette syndrome has not been afforded its cinematic dues, but what an affable, funny character to explore it with in John Davidson — and what a performance from Robert Aramayo.

Like any good “Weird Al” song parody, Weird takes the music-biopic template and transforms it into something utterly absurd. The result is a polka-popping, piss-taking joy.

A different beast to Past Lives, this is a razor-sharp look at the competitive marketplace of dating: both rigorously honest and idealistically romantic.

This is probably not the film you would expect it to be. But its unexpectedness is its biggest asset, a moving and very eccentric feathered fantasy about life, death and everything in-between.

A fitting — and frustrating — end to an extraordinary career. Ken Loach’s powerful, poignant storytelling is occasionally stymied by his less subtle impulses.

Ron Howard’s genial account of the legendary Muppeteer plays it safe, with a fairly traditional documentary-making approach — but it still manages to be adequately inspirational, celebrational and, yes, even Muppetational.

It doesn’t always land, but it dares to be different, from the title to the team-up. Fresh and thoughtful in a way recent Marvel efforts haven’t always managed.

This is a bold, unusual and gorgeously realised take on the very familiar slasher template — even if it doesn’t quite live up to its innovative promise.

The most terrifying fashion film since The Devil Wears Prada, Deerskin is a deliciously ridiculous farce played largely straight. This is a jacket you will feel the benefit of.

Gorgeous to look at — but this is simply not looney enough to stand alongside the Looney Tunes greats of old. Needs more anvils.

This is Bond film that dutifully ticks all the boxes — but brilliantly, often doesn’t feel like a Bond film at all. For a 007 who strived to bring humanity to larger-than-life hero, it’s a fitting end to the Craig era.

At once awe-inspiring, jaw-dropping, eye-rolling and head-scratching, this is animated cinema on a scale rarely seen. It doesn’t always hang together, but on its box-office achievements alone, Ne Zha 2 has earned a place with the immortals.

This welcome spotlight on a lesser-known civil rights hero doesn’t escape the usual biopic clichés — but Colman Domingo’s impressive, deeply layered performance does this corner of history justice.

Van Sant’s previous historical fictions have been more incisive, but this is a tense crime thriller, with a solid new addition to Bill Skarsgård’s rogues’ gallery of scumbags.

With a committed, crazed, brilliantly calibrated performance from late-Renaissance Cage, this is a feverishly good thriller: surreal and strange and sticky.

A tense, knotty opening act yields to some of Tom Cruise’s most impressive stunts yet, ending the film — and perhaps the series — on a high.

Remember the name Nana Mensah — as an actor, writer and director, Queen Of Glory is a hugely impressive calling card.