Sharrock’s resistance to easy answers or an easy way out is in-keeping with a tale in which the arbitrary flick of a pen, a stamp on a letter, can change someone’s life irrevocably – and yet may never come.

Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets’ vérité style belies a quasi-staged reality that challenges the distinction between fiction and documentary, studying the stories we tell ourselves to make sense of the world.

What lets the film down somewhat is an issue that has dogged much of the studio’s recent middling efforts, namely an inert narrative and a wishy-washy message that ultimately doesn’t have the courage of its own convictions.

Telling the story of women bound by oppression, Lingui, The Sacred Bonds is an astonishing film of female resistance and survival.

A clever, daring and unusual piece of cinema which fans of thinking outside the box will appreciate.

'71 is a pulse-raising actioner that stumbles a little in navigating the typically hazardous political terrain.

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.

Prayers for the Stolen is fundamentally an account of powerlessness, of the insidious ways that forces act invisibly, immeasurably, and often horrifically on those with the least ability to resist them.

Dafoe and Pattinson bounce off one another brilliantly.

True Grit’s brilliantly crafted moments of wild and frenzied action, hilarious dialogue (courtesy of Portis himself) and beautiful cinematography (from cinematographer Lucien Ballard) helped it to compete with the hugely popular film’s of Leone.

Its emotional dilemmas, depictions of trauma, revenge and fractured family ties are handled with such skill and sense of purpose, it is truly exemplary film-making.

Mandy is not just hideous, hilarious and thrilling – although, it’s all of those and then some – it’s also a meditation on personal grief which loses no poignancy for all its blood-soaked insanity and eye-melting psychedelia.

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.

Bright light and dazzling colour dominate, as befits the Santa Barbara setting, while every scene is packed with moments that are in turn engaging, amusing, poignant, awkward, heart-warming, heart-breaking and profound.

Ixcanul may struggle to tackle the larger issue it posits but well represents the lives and rituals of the marginalised community it seeks to give a voice.

Ultimately a small tale of the struggles of ordinary working-class people against the tourist trade, in a wider political context, the film exists in a deeply contemporary space. Through its filmmaking craft, this debut remarkably operates in a timeless space.

The final few minutes will baffle some, infuriate others, but it will also be the wildness of the imagination which will have you pondering Evil Does Not Exist long after it has ended.

The film’s final shot of Little Edie dancing alone on the filthy floorboards of her rotten hallway is as poignant an image as can be imagined. Simultaneously humorous, pathetic, and triumphant, it is the unconscious statement of a person railing against the world, lost in the maze of her own past and the uncertainty of her future, at once hopelessly deluded and consciously defiant.

No doubt thanks to her own wealth of acting experience, King elicits outstanding performances from her cast, proving that big boys do cry when the stakes are high enough and love, respect and hope triumph over hate.

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.

No film of Lee’s would be cut without portraits, cross cutting, dual images or his iconic double dolly shot. All featuring heavily, these practises of his style come to elevate the genre filmmaking to new heights.

Glazer’s Under the Skin is his otherworldly opus.

Polsky keeps Red Army driving forward and the result is a film as fast-paced and bloody-minded as the sport it celebrates.

While the film's mischievous narrative manipulation will inevitably irk some viewers, this beautifully rendered opportunity to view the world through the eyes of those who can no longer see is a smart and moving portrayal of living with an ocular condition.

Being 17's great strength is the two utterly engrossing performances given by its leads and their exhilarating chemistry is conveyed with equal sensitivity during their tussles, as it is in every small glance and gesture.

Free Solo goes some way to explaining just why someone would want to do such a thing, but is ultimately more captivated by the vicarious thrill of watching Honnold do his thing.

Saint Maud is the dive into obsession, isolation and urban deprivation that you need right now.

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