An empathetic depiction of two marginalised ways of life; God's Own Country is a deeply felt romance that harnesses the primal relationship between people and place.

Ex Machina exposes the insecurity of the male ego by showing his lust for creation as simply another strand in the patriarchal power game. The film's trajectory forms a thrilling, exciting corrective.

Argentinian director Laura Citarella’s Trenque Lauquen is an enigmatic, semi-absurdist puzzle that defies the allure of narrative solution in favour of the liberation of loose ends.

Elevating silliness to the level of profundity, House doesn’t so much serve its swirling madness to you as it dunks your head into a cauldron full of it.

It shows the desperation, the pain and the suffering, but it also reveals the spirit and fortitude of those tasked with caring for the sick.

There is quite literally a darkness at the heart of the American dream as seen through the eyes of a teenage girl.

Kline perfectly captures the out-of-jointness of our age, defined by a generation caught by social and economic decline in a state of permanent instability.

A triumphant debut feature with an important message that masterfully balances its personal and political concerns.

It is Hall for which this film will be sought out and remembered, and she elicits such a great deal of empathy as to make the inevitable climax all the more gut-wrenching.

Blending and bending genres to highlight the elusiveness of the truth, Green's avant-garde documentary presents the audience with a wealth of interviewees, each giving their own account of how the murder was reported.

Richard Linklater once again casts his outwardly laid-back yet deceptively astute gaze on those loitering around the edge of adulthood with Everybody Wants Some!! - a joyous and often uproarious portrayal of college-age adolescence and the alluring freedom that brings.

This is not just a biopic, or a bunch of worthies singing the praises of the King of Rock and Roll and hoping thereby to get a dribble of the blue suede limelight. Rather, it is a thought experiment, an argument, an essay in the true sense of that word, which is truly revealing.

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.

Although A Most Violent Year may hit fever pitch when Abel engages in a nerve-wracking chase of a stolen tanker, it's in the murky uncertainties and frosty climate that it endures and excels.

Ciro Guerra and Cristina Gallego’s depiction of their native country is compelling, one that weaves its magic to leave a rather impressionably wonderous film.

An ornately mounted story marked with tints of antiquarianism, The Lost City of Z is perhaps Gray's most accomplished film to date.

Baumbach writes his dialogue with a sharp pencil and the film bursts with non-sequiturs, put downs and hilarious lines.

The Children Act brilliantly recreates the measured mind and language of a judge. But McEwan and Eyre are also interested in conveying the tumultuous emotional currents that operate below the surface in a person – often unrecognised until it is too late.

Petzold's Phoenix is a high-concept premise executed as a heart-wrenching character piece.

An exquisitely rendered study of entitlement and millennial dissatisfaction.

The key here is the perfectly-cast Wilson, constantly swimming against the current of her own harrowing memories, often telling more in a single glance than her sporadic utterances to her similarly-broken brother ever could.

Its specific frame of reference sees it build to a bleak and powerful conclusion, if one devoid of much hope.

Andersson packs his film with thought-provoking deadpan humour.

A low-key yet complex family drama, My Happy Family is a quietly devastating portrait of what it means to be a woman in a man's world.

The topic of who can participate in the arts often ignores society’s racial prejudices and class assumptions, thankfully The Plagiarists’ perfectly judged mimicry of independent cinema illustrates the profound effect a lack of diversity has on the type of art that gets made.

While it is a triumph on an aesthetic level – Chen’s camera glides euphorically through temples and city streets, while the costumes and sets are meticulously authentic – it falls short because it struggles to combine the observational, detached style of its first half with the dramatic tribulations of the second.

All of this is achieved with the signature levels of emotional intelligence that Pixar are renowned for. The level of detail with which they have created this world is staggering, with each aspect of the psyche carefully thought out.

Mercier has a presence about him that’s unshakable.

A unique and beautiful boxing movie.

Oldroyd has made a film here that's incredibly tied to its nineteenth century setting, yet modern at the same time in the way it addresses femininity - more importantly, the power women have no matter how they're viewed by society or expected to behave by their male counterparts.

Kevin Kerslake’s Bad Reputation doesn’t explore just Jett’s rock star image and the added layers of hostility and confusion that her gender brings to the term ‘rock star’ but also, how cinema weaves its elements within the world of music, it’s aesthetic and subcultures, cinema and music as creating its own little world.

Cooper’s performance is sublime, delicately balancing the problem of playing a ham while not becoming a ham.

She Dies Tomorrow is billed as a horror, and its scenario certainly is that. But the word ‘horror’ denotes active subjects – even if their activity is mainly screaming and running – whereas there’s a melancholy to Seimetz’ film that feels too fixed in place for the instability of horror.

The film as a whole is neither scary nor particularly interested in the nature of its ‘monster’, though it is undoubtedly strange and often unsettling.

Although the handling of certain plot dynamics on occasion isn’t as strong as its potent aesthetic finesse, Ly mounts a thriller operating as a savage indictment of social policies and underhand police tactics and ass-covering corruption.

Ant-Man is a smart action adventure that breathes new life into a long-running franchise, told with a level of intelligence that reminds those beleaguered by the onslaught of superhero movies that the genre still has a lot to give when in the right - if not the Wright - hands.

Although the narrative risks becoming arbitrarily episodic towards the end, Neon Bull is a genuine celebration of its characters and their grounded physical life as well as their obstinate ability to dream.

Even the film’s weaknesses – a penchant for melodrama and a tendency towards the hysterical – work as remnants of their time and betray an earnest effort to emphasise with the characters and their heightened do-or-die mentality.

Ava is a singular vision marking Foroughi as a talent to watch.

Scafaria is writing from personal experience and it shows in some of the understated but utterly credible scenes which illuminate the grieving process.

The result is a formally loose, but dizzyingly dense and morally forthright examination of national attitudes and the myopia of nostalgia told through ranging meta-constructs and highfalutin debate.

It's as if the writers have set out with the most basic plot imaginable, hoping to cover the cracks with distractions and colourful set pieces. It works, but the lack of depth and emotional heart is noticeable when the film hits some of its less than spectacular moments.

It is a tale of phenomenal creatives from Williams to Kazan and Brando and Leigh.

As both director and performer, Waititi is on top form.

By utilising a Herzogian blend of existentialist narration with the addition of numerous well-structured interviews (both academic and candid), Guzmán opens up the floor - and skies - to a frank and painfully honest discourse on Chile's past, present and future.

Following the freewheeling day to day life of dogs living on the streets of Istanbul, the initial novelty and intrigue of this extraordinary documentary broadens further to a profound meditation on how mankind treats our so-called best friends, and one another.

Read as a loose adaptation of Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Little Joe is a gripping and visually striking satire of essentialist maternal instinct and the contemporary anxiety of wellbeing.

This deeply felt Paraguayan drama shines a light on the nation’s fractured identity by crossing numerous generational and class divides.

Quillévéré has created a poignant exploration not just of death, but of life, love and fragility.

Like the best films from its genre, Seconds acts as a potent parable and posits an intriguing idea.

It’s a mesmerising watch for fans of Cohen’s music, a fitting portrait sewn artfully together, and given a greater intimacy by dint of the fact Broomfield himself spent time in Hydra in his twenties and befriended Marianne whilst there. The only glaring absence is the lack of commentary from Cohen himself on their relationship.

Interstellar may not be perfect, but tent-pole filmmaking with such ambition and grandeur is always worth celebrating.

It’s open to debate whether this claustrophobic little parable means something. It’s devilishly clever but there’s a suspicion that this is beautiful calligraphy without words. And yet with the added circumstance of self-isolation, quarantine and quiet four-walled despair, Vivarium will undoubtedly resonate.

The First Wave stands as an honest, hard-hitting and compassionate reminder of loving thy neighbour wherever and whoever they may be.

An acutely observed and frequently heartbreaking documentary.

An affectionate labour of love, cathartic yet bitterly honest, Bell and Sng’s films paints the full, unfettered picture.

In its totality Ava is a powerful and authentic depiction of a vital moment in a young woman’s life.

Occasionally, the script is a little too on-the-nose and expository, but the emotional force of the drama is such that those moments pass by without disturbing the overall impact of the film itself.

Hawke's performance is his most mature to date, a masterpiece of a man who cannot work himself out and yet is compelled to try.

Mystify: Michael Hutchence is an impeccably assembled, comprehensive tribute to a rock legend and is entirely worthy of being mentioned in the same breath as the aforementioned Winehouse doc.

Uncut Gems is not only one of the tightest, tensest American thrillers of recent years but also a fine addition to the New York-set movie canon.

Structured in parts like a thriller, Sweat is truly most successful as a character study, while its representation of social media gives rise to a nuanced understanding of contemporary anxieties over isolation and intimacy.

With The Homesman, Jones has produced an original and cantankerously offbeat western which becomes increasingly beguiling as the road stretches on.

Evolution more often chimes aesthetically with a European arthouse drama, but that is only until it voyages into more fantastical territory. Then this haunting and esoteric work manages to seduce and repulse in uncanny harmony.

It's a banana flambé with extra rum that brazenly throws together folksy storytelling, arch soap opera melodrama and a typically eccentric cast into a golden Hollywood crack at the American Dream.

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.

With wit, grace and a sincere affection for the town of his birth, the writer-director explores the people and stories that populated his childhood.

In the genuinely shocking and surprising third act, it wades deep into the moral shades of grey at the story's core and comes out the other side with no easy solution.

Andrésen became an overnight worldwide sensation and, through the lens of documentarians Kristina Lindström and Kristian Petri, an object lesson in the exploitation of children by the entertainment industry.

Diaz's From What Is Before is an enthralling, thought-provoking, elegant and tragic wonder.

Told with tenderness and honesty, Cicada is a treatment of trauma that does not judge or preach or take sides, but, in building to its breathless crescendo, goes to show just how much courage it takes to confront the past in order to look to the future.

Hers delivers a hard lesson about the healing power of love and acceptance with simple and unsentimental eloquence.

Morgen presents a sense of Bowie as a man who is in search of himself and who, through philosophy and a bold commitment to art, finds his wisdom.

Pleasure is not a morally proscriptive film and seeks neither to venerate nor condemn pornography, but to depict its hollowing effect on those who make it. The film’s title is not accidental; at a time when porn is freely and ubiquitously available, the price of gratification may be cheap, but there is always a cost to be paid.

Skillfully mixing elements of horror while never alienating its core PG demographic, The 'Burbs also benefits from a wonderfully playful score by the late great Jerry Goldsmith. While the film bottles it slightly at the end with the obvious, neatly-tied-together resolution which would have benefited from maintaining an ambiguity, the enormous sense of fun established by Dante and his cast in the run-up more than makes up for any shortcomings.

The result is a beautifully entertaining film. It is witty and the scenes between Gerwig and Pacino fizz alternately with flirtation, humour and occasionally rage.

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

Gere does a fantastic job of embodying this broken man... It's an incredibly moving performance that lends Time Out of Mind emotional weight and anchors this contemplation of a man adrift in a world that doesn't appear to care.

Polley is not especially subtle in her allegory, and nor does she need to be: the exceptionally well-made Women Talking gets to the point in its sheer, righteous invective.

One of Birds of Prey’s great pleasures is that it tells a Gotham story without having to tell the Gotham story: the adventures of Harley Quinn and associates are not at the centre of some grand narrative, and they are all the better for it.

System Crasher is the outstanding feature film debut of German director Nora Fingscheidt. A tremendous slice of life filled with light and energy, which doesn’t shy away from the tough realities of what social care is like for children with severe developmental issues.

Not only is The Voices uproariously funny throughout, but it's actually far cleverer than one might expect.

Despite its bland paperback title, French writer-director Stéphane Demoustier proves hasty assumptions wrong with his gripping, thoughtful third feature, courtroom drama The Girl with a Bracelet.

As blades pierce flesh and Carpenter’s iconic theme swells, the film wrestles with provocative imagery it’s not entirely in possession of, but which is nevertheless rich and layered with meaning. Whether transcendental, idiotic or both, the effect is overwhelming, a catechism for a series that has defined modern horror.

If we allow ourselves - as Scorsese asks us - to place ourselves in the shoes of these priests, then we have a graceful film of stoic power, which wrestles with the very nature of faith.

Unveiling personality traits previously unknown, alongside footage that’s captivating to observe, this lovingly constructed documentary will leave you with a fresh appetite to revisit Bergman’s filmography in as much detail as presented throughout.

All of the film is handled in such a way: from the beautiful monochrome photography that only extends the disconnection Olga feels with the world, to the understated and haunting performances, particularly Olszanska's.

Black Coal, Thin Ice is a majestic neo-noir.

Notturno is a snapshot – in a patchwork of disparate vignettes – that captures the effects of trauma inflicted on and hardships lived by the civilian population.

While on the whole Vice succeeds in offering a highly original take on Cheney’s time in office, it does have a number of weaknesses.

Linklater’s Hit Man is an Aperol Spritz with enough fizz and prosecco to cover the taste of the strychnine. This could be one of the brightest dark comedies of recent times.

Eastwood and Bridges handle the tricky character transitions well, playing the broad material for the back rows while hinting at the inner darkness. Cimino’s Thunderbolt and Lightfoot beckoned in the strange birth of a true auteur, and it’s one well worth digging into.

Herzog may shepherd the creative output, but its Kinski’s impassioned misrule that makes Nosferatu, the Vampyre truly terrifying.

This is a rich and complex take on guilt and anger.

First-time writer-director Blerta Basholli’s feature is an expertly crafted, compassionate testament to the perseverance and defiance of its courageous female collective.

Actor Daniel Brühl makes his directorial debut with this delightfully taut, blackly comic satire.

Bryan Fogel’s new documentary painstakingly – and painfully – traces the moments up to and following Khashoggi’s murder.

The performances of both Moss and Waterston are tremendous, filling the empty spaces of the frame with a suffocating mist of pain and suffering.