Nikki Baughan

While Frank & Louis is narratively unsurprising, its strong performances and emotional authenticity give it undeniable power.

Respectful, frank and moving, this is a small film with a devastating impact.

Cover-Up pays fitting tribute to a man who has made it his life’s work to seek out and expose the hardest of truths.

The result is a vibrant, infectious and surprisingly hopeful portrait of a divided America, fuelled not by idealism but dogged determination.

An assured, intelligent piece of filmmaking.

An impressive filmmaking debut from actor-turned-director Rebecca Hall which largely avoids cliché or soapboxing about race, featuring two excellent performances from Tessa Thompson and Ruth Negga.

With an ambition that far exceeds its relatively small on-screen scale, Atlantis is a remarkable piece of filmmaking from an exciting emerging Eastern European voice.

Open-minded audiences will soon realise that Pillion is not out to provocate, but to authentically and sensitively explore a side of gay culture little seen in mainstream film.

Its layered story, about a rich man and the extraordinary book that changes his life, is particularly well-suited to Anderson, who revels in such Russian Doll narratives and delivers the story as a dramatic reading, narrated by its characters.

Despite the sentimental score, which unnecessarily ramps up the emotion, Daughters is honest about the fact that this programme is not a magic bullet, just one important step on the road to change.

With strong performances and an arresting tone, Black Conflux doesn’t offer anything groundbreaking in terms of its narrative, but is nevertheless a striking calling card for its talented maker.

There’s something strangely beautiful about short filmmaker Elizabeth Lo’s concise, allegorical debut feature documentary, which starts off as a fly-on-the-fur exploration of Istanbul’s stray dog epidemic and becomes a lament about the difficulties of finding somewhere to belong in an increasingly fractured, and fractious, world.

There’s a lightness of touch to the performances, with Silver encouraging his actors to improvise on-set. Events may have made Ben something of a sadsack, but Schwartzman ensures there is still a glimmer in his eye, a hint that his lust for life is simply dormant.

Layering its fairly straightforward story of an adopted Irish girl who tracks down her birth mother with immersive visual and aural motifs, it plays more like modern operatic tragedy than run-of-the-mill social drama.

It effectively combines familiar genre tropes with Jenkin’s unique visual style and a resonant message of community.

Director Julien Faraut, who oversees the French Sport Institute’s 16mm film collection, showcases masterful command of the documentary form. His insightful, entertaining and often humorous film will appeal to fans of McEnroe, tennis and sport in general.

As Gena attempts to live an authentic life in a place which is dangerously prejudiced against her, so Queendom takes shape as a damning portrait of state-sanctioned intolerance and suppression.

Warfare certainly isn’t the first combat movie to take such an immersive approach to the subject, but what’s striking about this film is its overriding commitment to the truth as perceived by its real-life characters.

While any narrative nuance is left in the dust by the film’s singular focus on bloody retribution at all costs, it is one hell of a ride.

Talpe is excellent in the lead, his tightly-honed physique an increasingly transparent veneer for his troubled emotional state.

Curry Barker’s astute horror takes the simple, familiar premise of a love-sick man attempting to win the object of his affections and shapes it into an incisive, entertainingly schlocky study of romantic co-dependency, patriarchal entitlement and the all-too-easy subversion of good intentions.

While the dramatic destination may be signposted fom the off, this well-observed debut from actor-turned-director Prasanna Puwanarajah handles its themes lightly, leaning into dark comedy rather than melodrama, and that approach, together with strong central performances, serves it well.

Exceptional performances, particularly from Caleb Landry Jones in the lead, and a sensitive touch from director Justin Kurtzel can’t shake the unease of giving yet another cinematic spotlight to a real-life mass murderer.

Bold, bloody and blisteringly brutal, this exhilarating follow-up to last year’s 28 Years Later grabs its audience by the throat from the off and never loosens its grip.

There are some tremendous misdirects, effective jump scares, and literal piles of gore. There just happens to be plenty of brains to go with all that blood.

There’s something deeply compelling about this deliberately odd, carefully-calibrated neo-gothic fable, which suggests that rehabilitation can be found in the darkest of places, and that true freedom is simply a matter of trust.

Diem’s intimate access and sensitive approach, together with editor Swann Dubus’ keen eye for texture and detail, make for a compelling and eye-opening drama.

While Gerwig and co-writer Noah Baumbach may couch this self-discovery narrative in powder pinks and unrelenting pep, their message is authentic and acerbic: an urgent feminist call to arms wrapped up in a hugely entertaining popcorn movie.