Benjamin Ree’s The Painter and the Thief is an art heist film like no other and an arresting documentary of startling, often brutal, emotional honesty.

In examining the reflexive, redemptive power of fiction, Lie with Me is a moving story of love lost to time.

Green Border is a powerful and necessary film.

Told respectfully and far from tarring an entire religion with the same brush, Young Ahmed is an exceptionally crafted and intelligent film.

The acting throughout is superb, with Swinton sitting back and watching with obvious pleasure as Fiennes gnaws up the scenery and beach furniture with genuine vim. Schoenaerts once again proves himself a charismatic and compelling actor alongside the excellent Johnson.

It is a film about a personal grief which gradually, step by step, takes on a mythic resonance. This is a new and vibrant talent to be watched.

After all the awards Varda has received, and the tomes of literature that others have written on her, Varda by Agnès, aptly titled, is a carefree, bold and resounding attempt to self-define and articulate the themes, concerns and intentions of her work.

Nothing else this year can match Another Evil for its expert chills, comic dialogue, Office-level cringe and disturbing themes.

The film isn’t without hope, but it lifts the lid of an ugly truth and asks the tough questions needed.

The performances by the lead cast are exceptional, and alongside a rich script, and Kokotajlo’s almost philosophical directorial approach, Apostasy is an incredibly moving drama offering an authentic glimpse into the Jehovah’s Witness community.

The Untamed is an examination of the strange otherworldly nature of desire, the way sex is often out of joint with our desires and expectations, even with our identities.

A great deal of love, intelligence and effort have gone into crafting a more mature rendering of the Wizarding World, where pertinent themes of segregation, racism, international politics bubble in the narrative cauldron.

The Son of Joseph is nothing short of marvelous. A modernised tale of literal Biblical proportions that will make viewers reconsider what defines paternity, family, and their place in the world. But don't worry: that's a good thing.

Herzog has a knack for extracting pithy, poetic responses from his subjects, but here he outdoes himself.

The Producers is so effusively inappropriate and so damned funny it is one of the highest examples of low comedy.

Bad Luck Banging may appear to be deeply cynical of human nature, but in fact its real targets are the flimsy discourses that we build to obscure and justify our baser urges, couched in illusions of history and morality.

In all this, there is an implicit if undeveloped criticism of the way that power and capital are so often the spoils of posturing masculine insecurity.

Husson’s film is first and foremost an appalling account of stomach-churning misogyny and the sickening horrors Kurdish women met at the hands of their vile captors.

Yomeddine is an accomplished appeal for empathy and an entertaining journey of discovery.

On the Record is at once a heartbreaking account of the survival of a group of courageous women, an analysis of the structural and cultural intersections between racism and misogyny, and an indictment of an industry happy to ignore and condone sexual violence.

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.