David Parkinson

This study in chaos and calculation not only makes for harrowingly compelling viewing, but it also exposes the apathy of an international community that simply turned the other way.

Combining widescreen lyricism and neo-realist intimacy, this is a poignant reflection on the stark situation awaiting so many migrants who risk everything to reach a false paradise. The methodology occasionally feels calculating, but the intentions couldn't be more sincere, as the struggles are destined to continue once the cameras leave.

With each subplot reinforcing the simmering sense of unease, this compelling recreation of a pernicious period soberingly exposes the ease with which morality can become a casualty of human nature.

Instructive, insightful and inspiring, Maiden is a rousingly riveting record of a remarkable accomplishment that says as much about British bloody-mindedness as it does about feminist fortitude and underdog pluck.

Regardless of the skittish structure and illegible subtitles, this is a valuable reflection on an incalculably influential career, which serves as a timely reminder about the pitfalls of artistic tyranny.

Challenging the truism that you can never go home, this doesn't entirely integrate its political subtext. But the storylines are involving, the setting is picturesque and the performances are impeccable.

Baalsrud never claimed to be a hero and the emphasis of this gripping reconstruction rightly falls on the resourcefulness, courage and self-sacrifice of those who epitomised the spirit of resistance.

The spirits of the old masters pervade this disquieting but deeply moving drama. But Kore-eda stands alone as the chronicler of family life in a country facing an identity crisis.

Tempering its flights of fancy with moments of whimsical humour and kid’s-eye realism, this thoughtful treatise on growing pains reveals a realist side of Japanimation that’s all too rarely seen.

Echoes of Dog Day Afternoon and Locke reverberate around this claustrophobic thriller, which is tautly plotted, precisely paced and grippingly played by Jakob Cedergren and his unseen co-stars.

Abetted by Nicolaj Brüel's prowlingly ominous camerawork and Dimitri Capuani's soul-destroying interiors, Garrone proves once again that even the lowest-rung southern Italian gangster can't afford a shred of human decency.

Whether rediscovering La France périphérique or hurtling through the Louvre, Varda and JR make a surprisingly empathetic team and their collaboration is as provocative as it is poetic and poignant.

Chekhov is notoriously difficult to film and this adaptation boldly taps into the play's mordant wit. But the fidgety and over-emphatic visuals detract from the themes and the stellar performances.

Impeccably performed by its young leads and nurturing supporting cast, this deeply personal picture particularly impresses in the closing scenes, which are quietly devastating in their intimacy, insight and truth.

This director's cut might smack of self-indulgence, but it also says much about love and loss and the language of an artform that flirts with realism while remaining an illusion.

Thrillingly capturing both time and place and fizzing with non-judgemental empathy and cinematic flair, this is a magnificent debut that catapults Laetitia Dosch into the front rank of French actresses.

Detached, but never dispassionate, this may not be Andrew Haigh's best film. But its slow-burning authenticity suggests a versatility to go with his acuity for credible characters in recognisable situations.

Knowingly blending realist grit with generic guile, this unrelentingly tense account of a fragmented family living in constant fear thoroughly merited the Best Director prize at the Venice Film Festival.

Pondering everything from free expression and sexual harassment to bourgeois guilt and migrant rage, this superbly acted saga may not always hit the target. But it unerringly leaves its mark.

It feels more like a ciné dissertation designed to showcase Zvyagintsev’s appreciation of the medium than an original piece of cinema.

A fascinating life is reduced to a series of skittishly edited and visually stylised vignettes that do scant justice to Marie Curie's scientific achievements and Karolina Gruszka's laudably intense performance.

A fascinating topic is attenuated by conservative storytelling and sketchy characterisation. Nevertheless, the sense of place is as assured as the vigilant performances, while the defusing sequences are genuinely suspenseful.

Telling an unfamiliar tale in a highly predictable manner, this is a laudable, but lightweight tribute to golf's founding fathers.

Despite a wonderfully witty voiceover and the bullish playing of a willing ensemble, this bawdy romp consistently stumbles over its more contrived excesses.

It's more than a little precious, but it's also sincere, touching and astute in its insights into social geography and human nature.

With its bestial themes, conceptual humour and cartoonish thespians, this consciously arch farce will intrigue some and infuriate others.

Unflinching in its depiction of rural reality, this may be a dour drama, but it has been made with sincerity and an exceptional sense of place.

This intelligently scripted and imposingly played costume noir revisits the conventions of Victorian melodrama to comment on modern attitudes to oppression, prejudice and morality.