Patrick Peters

Make a date to catch this on the big screen and be rewarded with pure magic.

Refocused on the hoof after the catastrophic 2014 earthquakes, Jennifer Peedom's film pulls no punches in exploring the culture and work of this unheralded group, as well as their frequent exploitation by Westerners.

Subtle and unflinching, this is genuine and charming.

An eerie and unsettling adaptation of Judy Pascoe's novel that impresses more for its atmospherics than its narrative.

Shot over three years, this is one of the more considered and insightful Iraqi documentaries - although some may find its stylistic contrasts a little self-conscious and distracting.

This arty approach may dismay hard-core horror fans, but it captures the dark grace of the original with wit and style.

Keeping it surreal has never been so nauseating and, at times, hilarious.

This reflection on isolation, technology, creativity and desire brilliantly blurs the lines between perception and voyeurism, the objective and the subjective.

An Oscar nominee at this year's Academy Awards and for good reason, Falardeau's film is moving, smart and sensitive. Terrific stuff, in short.

Claire Denis' drama is an overly fastidious but insight-filled look at post-colonial Africa.

Slow-paced and self-indulgent in places but a bravely intense use of camera work to explore the internal psychology of the characters.

May be contrived and overlong, but it is also technically distinctive and utterly compelling in its analysis of Swedish attitudes towards race.

Every bit as enchanting as you remember. Molto, molto bene.

Like Spinal Tap's more seriously older brother, Jay Bulger's fond but unsparingly honest film is a treat for fans and music lovers. A juicy slice of rock history.

As passionate and wide-ranging as you'd hope, but disappointingly mistrusting of its audience's interest in the finer points of the case.

The breakneck pace, the seething sense of menace and the unflinching attitude to sex, drugs and violence coagulate into a nastily authentic take on the seediness and venality of modern villainy.

Making masterly use of sound and image, this is a desperately sad study of the difficulty people have to communicate and commit in an increasingly insular world.

Both women are impeccably played by Maria Bonnevie.

A hit in Berlin, the Taviani siblings' documentary has plenty of wit and punch, although compared to the best of the medium - "Man On Wire," for instance - it sometimes comes off as guileless and clunky.

The tone is pseudo-Sopranos at times, but the oppressive ambience is grippingly sustained.

Strong performances and meticulous direction make this consistently disconcerting, but the subplot distracts from the moving human drama.

Rip Torn and Darren Burrows respectively over- and underplay their hands in this archly restrained Memphis melodrama.

A welcome antidote to anodyne Hollywood cartooning.

The cast are terrific, but byt he end, the film is struggling to stay together as much as the family it depicts.

This plays very much like a standard biopic, lacking the dangerous spirit of the movie that inspired it.

A compelling story told with Morris's usually flair. Still, hard not to think of it as a disappointment by the director's exalted standards and a missed opportunity to explore society's dysfunctional relationship with its media.

Unsparing in its portrayal of the seedier side of French society, only Polisse's loose focus keeps it from matching The Class for emotional punch. It's still a worthy companion piece to TV police procedurals like Spiral.

Uncompromisingly authentic, impeccably played and quietly compelling.