In another director’s hands this might all have been a bit of a slog but there is a quiet humor and lightness of touch to Schanelec’s direction and a self-effacing irony to Aistrid’s rambling that saves it from pure maudlinism.

Urging us to grin in the face of impending death, Truman handles grim material with grace, humour and the honesty of two old friends who tell it like it is.

Behind the visuals rests an absorbing performance from James Wilby as the titular character.

As heartbreaking as it is acutely observed, Hogg’s deep-diving autobiographical film is a beautiful, confessional tell-all about the brief joys and enduring tragedy that helped her find her voice as an artist.

A White, White Day is Ingimundur’s film through and through, centred on Sigurdsson’s intensely gruff, brooding performance. But Hlynsdóttir’s Salka gives him a run for his money.

Later remade as The Bird Cage, this first adaptation of Jean Poiret’s play is as moving as it is hilarious in its depiction of moral hypocrisy and familial love.

Adoring fans of the original will surely not be disappointed. Disney have cast their magic spell once again, creating a modern romantic fable with lavish visuals and wickedly entertaining performances.

Maggie's Plan is over-educated satirical skewering at its finest - to be enjoyed at leisure, between symposia perhaps, or other perambulatory Manhattan-style discussions of crypto-narratives in the modern family unit.

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

A formally dazzling, half-comic portrait of a community struggling against the tides of change.

In many ways, Down by Law feels like the quintessential Jarmusch. It's a perfect distillation of that strange whimsy and resolutely deadpan humour - harvested via the director's life-long passion for world cinema.

Sherpa tells of a contemporary act of defiance which would undoubtedly bring a characteristic grin to the face of the forefather of modern climbing.

Director Carla Simón’s Alcarràs is at once a paean to family, community and a dwindling way of life, and a complex and heartbreaking study of the victims of progress.

Ultimately, Decision to Leave is like a beautiful airport novel of a film. It is far cleverer than it needs to be and is so acted with sly charisma.

A visceral, Atwoodian journey, The Other Lamb is as much an examination of narcissism and the existing structures of gendered power as it is of the limits of faith.

The resulting film is an exemplar of fine balance, managing to be both a humane character study and issue-driven polemic, looking at the ongoing personal and social repercussions and contextualising the events.

With some subtle commentary on class, as well as gender politics, The Escape is an impressive portrayal of existential angst and the disintegration of self, and Arterton’s performance is breathtaking.

Peele's blistering debut is a timely and powerful satire of modern prejudice as much as it is a taut, gripping exercise in horror cinema.

Paths of Glory undoubtedly succeeds in both foreshadowing the bravura auteurism that was to come as well as lampooning the abhorrent bureaucracy that destroyed the lives of so many brave young men in Europe's trenches.

You may have casually leafed through one of the photographer's books in the past, or even visited a gallery of this work, but this documentary is a must-see for anyone who has ever expressed an interest in this fascinating figure (and for those keen to witness what life is like on the other side of the lens).

Covering depression, grief and pregnancy as body-horror, the end result is a palpably unusual mix of comedy, pathos and gruesome violence

Though it may tell of one family's story in the late nineteenth century, and the superb costume and period attention to detail are firmly rooted in its time and place, the case that Tommy's Honour makes for breaking tradition, being true to oneself and challenging authority establishes thematic ties that are timeless.

Featuring two outstanding lead performances from bright young talents Lika Babluani and Mariam Bokeria, Ekvtimishvili and Groß immerse their audience in the detritus of a country in tatters, whilst at the same time delicately nurturing two intertwining female maturation tales - with all that entails.

Detached, hypnotic and often oblique, the dreamlike Memoria is sure to enchant and mystify in equal measure.

With its depth and power, Wilson's play is a blue-collar Death of a Salesman and the music of the dialogue, with Davis and Washington at the peak of their powers, makes the whole thing sing.

It’s the impeccable performances of its central quartet and delicious premise that makes A Quiet Place such an exhilarating watch.

Locke never shies away from from thrusting 21st concepts of masculinity into the full glare of the high beams, exposing its morally complex protagonist at his most vulnerable before triumphantly rebuilding him from the foundations upwards. Don't miss it.

Civil War, though imperfect, is a biting, satirical blockbuster that is as much about the alienation of modern media as it is about imagining a second American Civil War.

The Violators bravely paints a vicious circle without pulling any punches and shows real promise in a new female British filmmaker.

Whilst King of New York isn’t, as many have claimed, Ferrara’s masterpiece, and while it may seem muddled and even unspectacular when viewed as part of the genre, it leaves a vinegary taste in one’s mouth that is both brilliant and unpleasant.

A near-wordless study of dairy cow Luma’s life and shot from a bovine-eye view, Cow resists the urge to anthropomorphise Luma while eliciting deep empathy for this non-human animal.

Chronicling the lives of himself and two friends from teenage years to young adulthood, director Bing Liu has crafted a rich coming-of-age odyssey which is, in turn, illuminating, sobering and ultimately uplifting.

A minor miracle in and of itself, Edwards' Rogue One somehow delivers on almost all of its weighty pre-release promises whilst at the same time besting The Force Awakens for sheer spectacle and world-building.

A nefarious misadventure that's technical prowess and heartbreaking lead performance belies its economical pedigree, Saulnier's farcical tale is punctuated with irregular scenes of dark, bumbling humour whilst a wanton disregard for the bellicose testosterone of similar tales successfully constructs a tense and naturally opaque mood that broods with the clammy tension of an impending storm.

Although past and current race relations are starkly drawn, Peck's film never feels bleak. This is mainly due to Baldwin's charismatic screen presence, his passion for reasoned argument and the power of his rhetoric.

The grimy, crime-ridden cesspool of New York in the 1970s and early 1980s is a well-worn cinematic setting, but in her debut 1982 feature Smithereens, indie director Susan Seidelman used guerilla filmmaking techniques and a faux-documentary style to unearth the vitality and the verve of urban life at the bottom.

With well-balanced humour, and a heartfelt father/daughter narrative, Ant-Man and The Wasp makes for refreshing viewing after the gasp-inducing drama of Thanos clicking his fingers. Sometimes, focusing on the smaller stories is just better.

An urgent and moving plea for action against the illegal trade in shark fins and more generally for the conservation of marine life in our rapidly dirtier and emptier oceans.

A far darker side of London is painted in bleakly realistic tones in City of Tiny Lights but, like its protagonist, Travis' film shoots from the hip, has a glint in its eye and packs a mean punch.

Okuno’s Watcher is smart, engaging and intelligent, and it’s especially refreshing to see this sort of mid-budget, grown-up genre film getting a proper theatrical release.

Notes on Blindness raises fascinating questions about our reliance on visual memory aids and the amount to which we truly experience the world around us.

Zlotowski's Grand Central is a fascinating film on an urgent and seldom-explored situation.

Dafoe and Pattinson bounce off one another brilliantly.

Hard to Be a God is a cinematic behemoth, an unshakable monochrome nightmare of squelching bodily discharges that inhabits a world so noxious you can almost smell the pungent deterioration of humanity as it spews forth from the screen.

Nothing short of an aesthete’s dream, a film crammed with visual bravado that at various times echoes Kubrick, Malick, and Coppola’s Apocalypse Now.

Hotel Artemis is a bold, loud, ambitious film, far cleverer than the bog-standard summer blockbuster fare, and with sharp humour and driving suspense it makes this pulpy-sci fi thriller a very fun watch.

Alfonso Cuarón returns to his childhood for inspiration with the meticulously beautiful Roma, an autobiographical black and white thank you letter full of warmth and love.

With a tightly-woven plot, dazzling cinematography and a razor-sharp cast of characters, Medusa Deluxe is Brit neo-noir at its knotty best.

Poetic realism for a digital age, Tangerine also shares a lot of qualities with the cinema of Mike Leigh and Ken Loach. There's no cheap manipulation here and Baker's characters never come across as victims.

It's a film swimming in symbolism, transgressive eroticism and perplexing details that will infuriate some audiences but for others will add to its irresistible allure.

Its emotional structure, reconstructing Katia and Maurice’s marriage and their shared passion for exploding mountains, feels far more intuitive and lyrical than its linear narrative structure might suggest. In this, Fire of Love is more portraiture than storytelling.

Hawkins smartly keeps the details of Mannings’ leaks – both in their content and the manner of their distribution – to a tight segment at the film’s mid-point. The effect is to create space for the film to explore something altogether messier and contentious – Manning’s identities as a trans woman and a political activist, and the problematic, even dangerous, ways that her private self and public persona relate.

Challengers is, in the end, a fantastically well constructed film with a star-making performance at its centre. Not quite a masterpiece, Guadagnino holds back from fully embracing the potential of his film’s eroticism and style, but Challengers is nevertheless a worthy contender.

31 is a horror show delivered in hammer blows, or 'Whitechapel-style'. You either dig it or you don't.

A fluent, confident and deeply felt work by an astute chronicler of life, Things to Come considers the fragility of ideas when exposed to the eroding force of time in beautifully humane fashion.

For most post-apocalyptic films, the nightmare is really a disguised fantasy. In Michôd's excellent The Rover, the nightmare is real.

There is a vitality and a quiet defiance to this kind of filmmaking that is difficult to resist.

Above all else John Wick is a lean, mean revenger to go with its ice-cold protagonist. It's not perfect, but you'll be hard pressed to find a more enjoyable action movie this year.

Like the Barry Lyndon of martial arts movies, every shot has been composed, lit and executed with such care and attention by Hou and his cinematographer Mark Lee Ping-Bing that The Assassin is totally absorbing in its spectacle, from the meticulous details of the interiors to the astonishing, breathtaking locations, from forests and waterfalls, to mountainsides and in one unforgettable moment cliff tops.

Natural Light illuminates the fading glow of humanity amidst horror.

Nothing particularly unusual or dramatic happens for the first hour of the film, and yet it is so beautifully done and engaging that the whole thing is riveting to watch.

Weiner may now regret allowing such intimate things to be filmed - indeed he has publicly said that he won't be watching the film - but Kriegman and co-director Steinberg have crafted a hugely lively and compelling portrait.

It's a gem of a film to be cherished by one and all.

At almost four hours in length, Mr. Bachmann and His Class is long, but its enormous characters and emotions more than fill the space, headed by an astonishingly charismatic and inspiring teacher in Dieter Bachmann.

In one truly magic moment, Buster Keaton – who had fallen on hard times and was largely forgotten – joins Calvero for his final gala performance. It is a cinematic meeting to be cherished and makes up for the maudlin and wordy melodrama that precedes it.

Behemoth is a stunning and moving denunciation of the situation in Inner Mongolia, where the mining industry is permanently changing the landscape.

Ultimately, Diego Maradona is about the corrupting influence of exceptionalism – swept into the game and made financially responsible for his family at 15, the arrested development Maradona suffers is writ large and ultimately leads to his downfall.

What Philippe does yet again, as with his his previous documentaries, is a bang-up job of examining what makes great films great, and here it is twofold: showing that The Wizard of Oz is not just an all-timer in its own right, but showcasing how Lynch drew on its emotional and cosmic resonance, in overt and oblique ways, for his own iconic forays.

So many thematic and tonal elements of Weerasethakul's later, more celebrated films, are evident in Mysterious Object at Noon that it would be easy to consider as a formative exercise alone, but even as he began to explore these fertile soils, he was creating a work of captivating and arresting beauty.

At 150 minutes, What Do We See When We Look at the Sky? could easily have been shorter and still achieved its intended emotional and aesthetic effects. But a river isn’t less pleasant for meandering before it reaches the ocean: if this is how it has to happen before we lose the thread of Lisa and Giorgi’s lives in the flow of others, then so be it.

This is a story about Kayla but really it is everyone’s story, impossible to recognise when you are in the midst of it but comforting to know that, even back then, you were never really alone.

An understated but spectacularly mounted drama.

Equal parts arthouse cinema and coming-of-age drama, the influence of his tribute to teen rebellion remains deeply felt.

A jolting cinematic experience, Wake in Fright bites like a dingo and kicks like a mule.

The film’s strongest element and most necessary comes with Luca Marinelli’s performance.

Yes, the cynical argument that Sony needed a franchise to hold its own against the might of Marvel may have something in it. But put the cynicism aside and what you have is a hilarious action-comedy that puts four great comedic women front and centre, with Feig dexterously balancing homage with originality.

It is remarkably good.

The Offence is almost the definition of murk, unrelenting and unforgiving.

Outlaw King is proof positive that Pine is one of the most underestimated actors in modern cinema.

An impressive, lingering debut from Hall, Passing exists as a fragile, precious, impossible reverie within a snow globe that could shatter at any moment.

Covino’s brilliant comedy is original and smartly entertaining: a celebration of male friendship in all its ups and downs.

A delight; a silly B-movie with a smart script and an amusing anti-authoritarian undercurrent.

Rich with scenes of affection and reconciliation, the most charming thing about Fourteen is the degree to which Sallitt finds a balance between his own brand of independent filmmaking and the kind of French middle-class realism he’s clearly influenced by.

Bright Sunshine In is a pithily precise portrait of the love life of an artist.

What Brett Morgen crafts for his audience - in what may very well come to be known as the definitive documentary on the musician - with Cobain: Montage of Heck (2015) is simply stunning. Morgen runs his coverage of Cobain from the cradle to the grave.

The Temple’s antics are a hilarious middle finger to the establishment, while, their stand against hypocrisy and the Evangelical Right’s blatantly theocratic mission to take control of the levers of power feels vital.

A beautiful entity, near flawless in design, any talk of accolades certainly seems justified.

MacDonald’s Whitney is compellingly told with compassion and style, showing just how great a gift Houston was blessed with, but also the demons that pursued her all her life to its tragic end.

The Cave is a raw, urgent film about one of the great humanitarian crimes of our times, made all the starker for the utter lack of a global response.

Is Raimi’s latest effort as rich as Spider-Man 2, as revolutionary as The Evil Dead or as fun as Drag Me to Hell? No. But within the self-imposed confines of the studio machine, Multiverse of Madness is about as entertaining as it’s possible to be.

While it’s obvious that fans of Lavelle and his many creative ventures will get the most out of The Man From Mo’Wax, this remains a fascinating insight into both the hubris and vulnerability of the music industry, which never shies away from casting it’s subject matter in a sometimes unfavourable light.

A bold and colourful, but by no means superficial portrait of femininity, Daughter of Mine successfully embodies a set of ideas – and anxieties – about motherhood that eloquently reflect a contemporary need to reevaluate the traditional family unit.

David Leitch once again proves himself one of the most adept action directors in Hollywood.

Inviting mystery, ambiguity, and a pervasive sense of unease, Ghost Town Anthology is an entrancing yet unsettling allegory that builds like the pressure of an approaching storm that never quite arrives.

Despite falling into the occasional genre trap, every step of Catch Me Daddy points to a pair of filmmakers unafraid to make brave and interesting choices.

Grant is absolutely superb as the impassive Geoff.