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 and is Film Critic in Residence at Falmouth University.
It’s creepy and claustrophobic, but a depressing and bitter lead (Domhnall Gleeson) robs the film of the electrical charge vital for fully effective horror.
From enigmatic Japanese love stories to the comic side of a one-woman show.
Starring Michael Caine, Tom Courtenay, Jim Broadbent, Ray Winstone and Paul Whitehouse, this film mixes steely menace and jolly japes.
The easygoing smile, the blokey-jokey swagger, the Stetson tipped just-so; his was a club to which you might want to belong.
Bart Layton’s thriller alternates between interviews with the real-life subjects (all now in their thirties) and the actors who portray them.
Yet in charting a doomed romance shaped by political upheavals, the film seems not to lay the necessary groundwork for its conclusion.
Thompson is finding new shades of scepticism and warmth nearly 30 years on from her first cinema role.
Unusually for a comedy film, The Festival gets funnier as it goes on.
BlacKkKlansman is inspired by actual events – or, as the opening titles put it, “Dis joint is based on some fo’ real, fo’ real shit.”
After her vivacious partner’s imprisonment, Chela slowly outgrows her sullen, damp dish-cloth nature.
