Matthew Anderson

MLK/FBI is an insightful, adroitly constructed documentary which seeks to mine new truths from a recent, tangible past. Filmmaker Sam Pollard pits the aspirations, endeavours and character of a great, but flawed humanitarian against the racially-driven, underhand tactics of a tyrannical government organisation.

Testament to both the filmmakers and a great woman now seemingly at peace with her long and difficult past, Tina is a documentary well worthy of its star, an untamed, unparalleled force of nature.

An expertly handled plot, interweaving lives, coincidence, past trauma and circumstance, is concerned with far more than mere bloody vengeance. Five years since the delirious oddity that was Men & Chicken, Jensen gets members of the old band back together for a thrilling, poignant film which sees writer-director and cast on top form.

Structured in a series of chapters, there is an element of picturebook, even fairytale, enchantment to Hunt for the Wilderpeople. It is easy to be swept up in the adventure of it all, and the comedy and light-heartedness make it eminently watchable but as one narrow escape leads to another, and another, things start to feel a little thin.

Marcel the Shell with Shoes On is a true delight.

Herrera’s exploration of the African diaspora in Bantú Mama does ask questions about identity, family, and the meaning of home which truly resonate.

It doesn’t hit the heights of former collaborations, but there’s a lot to drink in and appreciate here, and Mikkelsen’s all-dancing finale is one of the most exultant, triumphant moments in recent cinema memory.

Benjamin Ree’s The Painter and the Thief is an art heist film like no other and an arresting documentary of startling, often brutal, emotional honesty.

Led by a tour de force performance as savage, unpredictable and frightening as the film’s titular ursine, Black Bear stars Aubrey Plaza in stellar form as a writer-director seeking inspiration, in this bamboozling psychological character study.

Kaufman’s latest work, a creeping, deeply unsettling, cerebral horror of sorts, is a further addition to his challenging, thought-provoking brand of filmmaking which gets under your skin, and stays there.

Having penned the script herself, July trusts her four actors to provide the goods, which they do. The director is left to concentrate on the construction of this haphazard, seat of their pants, wing and a prayer lottery of a film. And though it feels like it shouldn’t work, it really, really does.

Luzzu is a slender, rather bleak but tough, rough-cut little jewel that deserves your time and attention.

Taking place over the course of a little less than 24 hours, it is day-in-the-life cinema at its most pertinent.

Sticking to documentary form for the most part with key talking heads, a barrage of headlines and ample news broadcasts, the co-directors are not afraid to shock with gruesome crime scene footage.

The extraordinary amount of footage, which moves from monochrome, to grainy colour, to vibrant turquoises as technology and time march on, is really a wonder to behold. If, wherever you are in the world, there’s the opportunity to see Playing with Sharks on the big screen, then you should, to fully experience this eye-opening, vivid documentary.

The film isn’t without hope, but it lifts the lid of an ugly truth and asks the tough questions needed.

Delighting in the ancient tradition of storytelling as a means of education and understanding as well as entertainment, Nora Twomey's The Breadwinner is a richly animated jewel.

Visually striking and audibly arresting from its opening number until the curtain comes down, Crock of Gold: A Few Rounds with Shane MacGowan is an affectionate paean to its irascible, impudent frontman.

A chilling expose of state-sponsored cyber warfare and the enemy within.

Finding Dory is as entertaining, soul enriching and bittersweet as any Pixar production to date.

Re-framing more traditional genre choices for representing dementia, the Japanese-Australian filmmaker has crafted a chilling, mysterious horror to communicate the confusion and terror caused by diminishing intellectual acuity.

For all its misdirection and confusion, Apples reaches a conclusion of unexpected emotional weight. An intelligent and clear-sighted piece of filmmaking, it is a highly accomplished first directorial outing by Nikou.

Amongst the swearing, past gripes and resentments exhibited by wearying central players there is humour, compassion and a great deal more heart and soul than we have come to expect from the rote, by-the-numbers dialogue of Marvels past.

Russell is the magnetic epicentre of a much broader contemplation on the nature of being, creation and self-truth at a time of peace and love.

Sid and Nancy rages with a vitriolic fury which eventually becomes tiresome.

Their Finest by no means reinvents the wheel but in the hands of Scherfig - who previously directed An Education - it looks wonderful, has enough substance to back up its gleaming charm and is a very enjoyable period piece that wears its heart and intentions firmly on its well starched sleeve.

Exploring the powerlessness an exasperated Diana (Kristen Stewart) must confront when faced with Windsor tradition, expectation and hypocrisy, a single weekend in the country is the epicentre of a far broader story, the shockwaves of which ripple through space, time, mind and soul.

Though the slow, blurry-edged stupor of Shirley will not be to everyone’s tastes, it cannot be denied that it examines its subject, and a rather tired genre, with feverish, dreamlike fluidity rather than rigid biography. That, and Moss’ enthralling lead performance, are Shirley’s chief accomplishments.