Beth Webb

A daring, formally audacious yet messy ode to cinema from one of the most enterprising filmmakers working today. Bravura and baffling in equal measure. Strap in.

Rare and special is a film capable of summoning this much poignancy: a feeling which lingers well beyond the film’s final, achingly moving moments on screen. That Aftersun is the debut from British filmmaker Charlotte Wells only adds to its accomplishment.

Sidestep the somewhat over-egged stylistic touches and you’ll find a fun coming-of-age tale boasting three irresistible performances from Bella Ramsey, Billie Piper and Andrew Scott.

Elba’s performance as a lonely Djinn with a bottomless reserve of charm, paired with Miller’s unbridled energy, make this a modern fairy tale worth seeking out.

Weighted by a reliably mesmeric performance from Alan Cumming, this visually varied doc misses an opportunity to ask big questions, but still manages to pack a punch on a small scale.

Raiff’s assured and intelligent writing and direction, paired with the strength of its acting ensemble, make this an irresistibly charming, emotionally rich treat.

A compassionate and tenderly performed love story, with a musical current coursing through it. British cinema is lucky to have Clio Barnard.

An immersive and impassioned documentary from one of Britain’s most formidable filmmakers, which may be singular in its perspective but is as powerful to watch as it is painful.

The narrative here feels somewhat underdeveloped, but Campion remains a master of sensory storytelling, delivering a scorching study of masculinity rooted in fear.

A few flat ideas aside, this is a handsomely made horror film that expertly utilises the frightening talent of its young stars and draws Wright into a new, exciting chapter.

Though it doesn’t stray far beyond fan service, this is a comfortable extension of a beloved British show that delivers a reliable mix of quotable comedy and heart.

Lacking the boldness of originality and substantial character development, The Artist’s Wife nonetheless showcases Olin’s best performance in years and a brittle brilliance from Dern.

Spencer and McCarthy are the superheroes we deserve, but are capable of so much more than bowel-movement jokes in this tepid and formulaic buddy romp.

Another tenderly executed triumph from Francis Lee, and a captivating, serrated starring performance from Kate Winslet. Ammonite is a fine feat in British filmmaking craft.

Overused, hyper-stylised pop numbers aren’t enough to mask the catastrophic misjudgements that Sia has exercised here. Were Music merely hokey it could be forgiven, but its ham-fisted approach to sensitive issues make this a massive misfire.