Ryan Gilbey is the New Statesman's film critic. He is also the author of It Don't Worry Me (Faber), about 1970s US cinema, and a study of Groundhog Day in the "Modern Classics" series (BFI Publishing). He was named reviewer of the year in the 2007 Press Gazette awards.
Ryan Gilbey is left feeling chilled by Abderrahmane Sissako’s remarkable Timbuktu.
The actor’s comments about the infantilisation of culture have caused a storm. Is he right to want to put away childish things?
The films of François Ozon are polymorphously perverse.
Hearing audiences might feel that they are being kept at arm’s length and they would be right.
As Mad Max: Fury Road hits our screens, we look back at the 1979 original exploitationanza.
Top Five is a cleverly profane version of Woody Allen's Stardust Memories, but sometimes it veers into self-sabotage.
We’ve seen too many Friday the thirteenth films to buy the sight of teenagers venturing into the deep, dark forest, but the deep, dark internet is another matter.
“Are you bent? Are you queer?”
If the Marvel fan base, like an elephant, is large but easily startled, Roy Andersson's minimalist vignettes in A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence ask the viewer to endure discomfort.
Ryan Gilbey examines Mamet’s plays for clues to his changing politics.
No country has ever left the EU before, so there's no map for where we're going.
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