Nikki Baughan

While the subtle world-building may be more consistently impressive than the familiar narrative, The Kitchen nevertheless makes its points with style.

Catak retains an effectively claustrophobic atmosphere and a tight focus on his characters and their issues.

Exceptional near-future production design and a strong dual performance from Mahershala Ali as a man and his clone fuel Benjamin Cleary’s impressive, thoughtful sci-fi debut.

The Convert promises the potential for plenty of fire and brimstone but, despite some committed performances, lacks the dramatic passion that would have really left a mark.

The film moves at a languid pace, with long periods of silence, and there’s not a great deal of action until a final cathartic orgy of violence. Yet this world is richly drawn.

While the entire cast impresses, standout performances come from Murphy and Lycurgo. They make it clear that Steve and Shy are two sides of the same coin, both shaped by past trauma and finding it almost impossible to exorcise their demons.

Gay Chorus Deep South draws its strength not only from its subject, but also the effective way in which it it presents its arguments.

As was the case with the source material, however, glamorous visuals and a kitschy vibe aren’t enough to paper over a threadbare plot, thinly drawn characters, obvious dramatic beats and an ill-advised central conceit.

While Selena’s raw talent and infectious personality are a huge draw, the film’s real selling point is its access to Selena’s family, open and honest in their recollections.

It all builds to a frenzied, nightmarish climax of greed, desire and full-tilt excess that takes a sharp-toothed bite out of society’s toxic obsession with women’s bodies, and should leave horror audiences hungry for more.

Sean Byrne’s third feature is a messy mash-up of creature feature and serial killer movie whose psychological posturing and gory effects can’t hide the fact that it’s propped up by tired horror tropes.

Raging Grace walks its own line between traditional genre filmmaking and contemporary social commentary and, while more effective during its slow-burn first half, effectively draws on the systemic horrors of a traditionally white power structure which purports to help ’outsiders’ while keeping them firmly underfoot.

There are some fun moments in Sharper, not to mention its attractive production and costume design, and Moore is clearly having a blast with a character who is sexy and smart in equal measure. But with the story broken down into obvious individual character-focused jigsaw pieces, viewers won’t need many of their own wits about them to guess where this tale is headed.

This earnest drama wears its politics very much on its sleeve — and makes no apologies for doing so — although its intimate take on an overwhelming moment in history can make for some compelling drama.

While there are perhaps a few too many jump scares, and an overwrought ending which takes some of the wind out of its sails, The Damned is powered to the finish by its creeping sense of dread.

Exceptional sound design and a superb central performance from The Handmaid’s tale star Nina Kiri, who is almost entirely alone on screen, mean the film casts a compelling spell, even when the narrative begins to succumb to genre cliché in its final reels.

Despite the endearing reticence of its subject, Westwood: Punk, Icon, Activist uses interviews, archive footage and intimate fly-on-the-wall access to get (almost) to the heart of this remarkable woman; although one suspects that Westwood will always keep some secrets firmly up her sleeve.

A mix of fly-on-the-wall material with archive footage and interviews, Maya And The Wave is a by-turns exhilarating and infuriating exploration of how, for a woman, talent is often not enough to cut through.

Beneath all of the visual razzle-dazzle and quick-firing gags, though, Chicken Run: Dawn Of The Nugget is, fundamentally, a familiar, well-executed coming-of-age narrative, in which a youngster is compelled to spread their wings, and parents must learn to let them fly.

This charming story . . . has a deft, audience-friendly lightness of touch, focusing on Armenia’s people rather than its difficult history. Nevertheless, it firmly makes its points about displacement, cultural cleansing and the difficulties of returning home.

Its impact comes not only from the real-life events it’s depicting, but also the way in which it frames this now-familiar tale; a triumph of human – and particularly female – will against adversity and a celebration of those who would seek a better life, despite the costs.

Despite the fact that it trades in a dogged familiarity, this magical story still retains some spark.

The Peasants again melds oil paintings (some 40,000 of them) over live-action footage of actors to become a dynamic, immersive drama that brings the pleasures and pains of the past to ravishing life.

It remains a superficial exercise in creepy fun, but – like so many horror sequels – retreading familiar ground proves an exercise in diminishing returns.

While that familiarity is Scream VI’s major strength, it has also become its fundamental flaw. The location may have changed, the kills may be increasingly inventive, but underneath all that window dressing it’s the same as it ever was.

It’s a trip, and then some.

Moshe is not the first filmmaker to grapple with theories surrounding the manipulation of the fabric of time but his intimate approach, coupled with strong performances, make this an intelligent homespun take on a familiar subject.

The Fox doesn’t go far enough, its sombre tone muting its fantastical elements, its weirdness not nearly weird enough to overcome its flaws.