The President’s Cake is a Vital Watch

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

In 1990, Iraq faced strict UN-backed sanctions, which led to extreme poverty and shortages of food and medicine. Despite this, Saddam Hussein required all Iraqis to celebrate his birthday. Set two days before the president’s birthday, either during or on the verge of the Gulf War, The President’s Cake (2025) follows nine-year-old schoolgirl Lamia (Baneen Ahmad Nayyef), who is anxious about being selected for the terrible honour of baking a cake for the day. 

Filmmaker Hasan Hadi contracts a world from Lamia’s perspective outward through childlike framing and camera movements, grounding us in the surreal circumstance she finds herself in on the morning of the draw to decide who will have to bake the cake. The scene is an entire film in a bottle. We see Saeed (Sajad Mohamad Qasem), Lamia’s close friend, has to write his name five times to be placed in the draw as punishment for his lateness to class. A boy reminds the teacher that his father fixed his bicycle, and his name is not written down for the draw. When Lamia is called to draw the cake, an ultimate punishment, we collapse on her face, slammed with despair, but not broken. She learnt this from her grandmother Bibi (Waheed Thabet Khreibat).

Without parents and raised on the outskirts of the city by her frail but spirited grandmother Bibi, Lamia must scrape and scrounge to acquire the funds to obtain the basic ingredients needed for the cake, which, if she doesn’t present it on the day, will be punished by being dragged through the street and possibly killed.

Baneen Ahmad Nayyef as Lamia in The President’s Cake.

The film is littered with pensively powerful moments, like Bibi giving Lamia a shopping list for the cake while sorting through personal family items they will have to sell to acquire the ingredients. The crippling weight of political forces bears down on each individual we see. The dictatorship and UN-backed sanctions are visibly fraying the knot of community in this Iraqi village and city.

Once the film separates Bibi and Lamia on their trip to the city to collect ingredients in several heartbreaking sequences, the story blooms. Lamia is driven to acquire the ingredients and persevere, while Bibi is trying to give her granddaughter a better life as she grapples with the limitations of herself as her guardian. As the film is primarily focused on a child’s perspective of the world in a state of turmoil, this bifurcated narrative is purposely unbalanced, which can lose some audience members while engrossing others.

We see the crippling rule of dictatorship through a child’s eye and how that perspective ripples through others. As Lamia and her friend Saeed encounter various strangers on their journey for eggs, flour, and sugar, we see the callousness the regime has instilled in people, where even the sharing of small kindnesses seems impossible.

(From left) Sajad Mohamad Qasem and Baneen Ahmad Nayyef as Saeed and Lamia in The President’s Cake.

Baneen Ahmad Nayyef as Lamia is one of the best child performances in years. She carries with her a pathos that never derails her fierce determination to succeed despite her situation, making her a vital screen presence in a film that too easily could’ve sunk under the weight of its circumstances.

What also allows the film to float above the muck is the gorgeous work of cinematography by Tudor Vladimir Panduru. The President’s Cake maintains a propulsive energy, never luxuriating in the search for that one perfect shot that derails all too many films. 

A film about the futility of a stable life under a cripplingly arrogant dictatorship, Hadi savvily avoids the potholes of despair with a gliding approach from scene to scene, focusing on the childlike goals at hand that ground the story in the familiar despite the circumstances. Too often, films of this nature root themselves too heavily in the past and its specifics, which feel bound by their circumstances, allowing the audience to separate their lives from the ones we see on screen. That is not the case here, and it is all the more powerful for it.

A vital and poignant film that collides with the madness of oppression with a child’s resilience, Hadi’s film is indebted to classic Iranian filmmakers like Jafar Panahi and Abbas Kiarostami while still matching contemporary urgency with a reflective look at the past. As the children move through the city ravaged by poverty through recent sanctions, all in a desperate search for money and supplies to get through the president’s birthday, we reflect on each passing individual and how they are forced to look out for themselves instead of these desperate children. 

The President’s Cake is in select theatres now.

Dance For Your Life Brings the Docuseries to the Big Screen

Rating: 3 out of 5.

The audition of a lifetime. 100 dancers, 1 contract. An expansion of the television docuseries Dance Life (2024), the documentary feature Dance For Your Life (2026) is an intimate look into the world of modern professional dance through two dance companies: Sydney’s Brent Street and London’s Shapehaus led by revered choreographer Dean Lee. 100 dancers will have the opportunity to prove they have what it takes to obtain the single contract up for grabs in the notorious London company.

The question Dance For Your Life asks across its 100-minute runtime boils down to whether this is an extended TV episode or a work of cinema. While starting on rocky footing with an extended first act in Sydney, the film blooms into a wonderful work of resilience and passion once the group of ten finalists arrive in London, which benefits from the space given by the feature-length runtime. All great works of documentary in this vein ultimately require compelling characters, something Dance For Your Life takes its time cultivating beyond simple introductions during the trial stage in Brent Street. Once we begin to see the Australian dancers interact and learn from Lee, the world begins to open up, and we see what these young artists are capable of achieving. 

Spending the first 45 minutes locked in Sydney was crucial to establishing the world and stakes of the film before the lucky ten arrived in London. We are introduced to many impressive dancers, with the knowledge that only a few will make it to the final performance at the end of the film, so it is only once the final ten are selected that the audience can settle into which individuals to give emotional weight to.

Dance For Your Life sends ten Sydney dance students to London for the shot at a single professional contract.
Dean Lee (centre) and Brent Street dancers in Dance For Your Life (2026). Screener courtesy of Mushroom Group

What director Luke Cornish and cinematographer Geoff Blee understand about filming dance is the potency of a locked-off wide shot, allowing the dancers to power the scene. Like most creative subject documentaries, the film thrives when we are given space to watch these incredible performers do what barely anyone else on the planet can do. Dance For Your Life is given more space to breathe and explore the works in London, working through Dean Lee’s choreography that will be the basis for the film’s final performance.

The tension between personal gain and camaraderie is at the heart of the film and allows the competitive engine to keep the audience invested in the story and these dancers. In a climate of economic uncertainty in live performing spaces at scale, the stakes feel impossibly high for these young people trying to survive in a creative industry seemingly set up for them to leave.

Dance as a ruthlessly athletic medium of artistic expression is unlike any other art form, but is potently absent from the competition element of the film. When we watch the ten in these wonderful rehearsal scenes, we are not viewing it as an artistic pursuit but as a fellow judge, picking up on minimal mistakes and alterations from the group. When this shift in viewership excels, it is in the lead sequence as Lee is deciding between Max and Connor, watching the piece back to back, noticing what each individual brings to the part. Expressing themselves within the framework in place is electric to watch, with the knowledge that ultimately only one will be selected.

Dance For Your Life has Dean Lee at its heart. It works more effectively as an exploration of modern professional dance and those who are excluded and marginalised from that space, rather than a competition that ultimately feels secondary to the journey the dancers go on at Shapehaus.

The final dance performance, which the entire film has been building towards, is a feat. The access for filming allowed the sequence to excel beyond a simple documentary or competition television film. The medium of dance allows for a litany of great cinematic moments when performed at the highest level, something Dance For Your Life achieves in this finale. 

There is a wisdom to not linger in the final contract decision at the film’s conclusion for long, knowing the audience has seen the growth of these performers across the film as more important than this one opportunity. While only one lucky person received the contract, no one walked away empty-handed.

Dance For Your Life is in select theatres from April 2nd.

Project Hail Mary is a Charming, Wholesome Buddy-Up Space Adventure

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

Project Hail Mary preview screening provided by Sony Pictures

If you’re like me and you’ve recently added Andy Weir’s hit novel, Project Hail Mary, to your Audible library, thinking that listening to it beforehand or reading the physical version might be the best way to first experience this story, well the 2026 screen adaptation might just quell those thoughts. That’s because directors Phil Lord and Christopher Miller have taken a screenplay by The Martian (2015) screenwriter, Drew Goddard, and imbued it with their signature warmth and whimsicality to the point where this might be the only version of this intellectual property that you’ll need (and want) to experience.

After all, a premise about a school-teacher-turned-world-saving-astronaut who befriends a rock alien in the depths of space (who also happens to be on a mission to save his planet), isn’t really a hard sell, especially when Ryan Gosling is involved (think of it as an appetiser for the upcoming Mandalorian and Grogu film). But beyond that, Lord and Miller have managed to make a 2.5 hour runtime feel breezy and unique, especially at a time where films that take place out beyond our world have tended to play to familiar story beats — I’m looking at you, Predator: Badlands (2025) and Alien: Romulus (2024).

Of course, without Gosling’s signature charm and dry wit, the bright tone of this film would not shine through nearly as much. He plays science teacher Ryland Grace (referred to as Grace throughout) who we meet while he’s waking from a coma in the depths of an outer-space mission. From here, Goddard’s screenplay oscillates between the past and the present, giving us insights into how our protagonist found himself light years away from Earth. It turns out mankind is on course to being wiped out as the sun is being cooled by what is known as the Petrova Line (a line of radiation between Venus and the Sun) that is comprised of sun-eating “astrophage” or an organism that is, for reasons I won’t spoil, cooling the sun. So, yeah, things aren’t looking too great for Earth dwellers.

Ryan Gosling stars as Ryland Grace and Sandra Hüller as Eva Stratt in Project Hail Mary

Cue Project Hail Mary, a secret mission that only the world’s top minds who have any familiarity with what’s at stake, are privy to. While much of his life is quite unexplored for the majority of the film (namely, why he’s without anyone significant in his life from family to friends), Grace ends up becoming central to the mission after being recruited by a secret government operative, Eva Stratt (Sandra Hüller), with Lord and Miller finding a decent balance between showing you the events leading up to Grace’s being in space, and the being in space.

Grace’s mission is far from straightforward though as he is tasked with finding out why one particular planet some 11 years away is the only star in the solar system that isn’t being cooled by these infectious astrophage. Grace’s one saving grace (pun intended) is that he’s not the only one who has ventured out to this star, with a crab/spider shaped rock alien scientist (whom Grace fittingly names Rocky) also looking to see what’s coolin. It’s in their unusual connection that Lord and Miller’s film stops itself from becoming another by-the-books-Earth-saving-mission. For starters, Rocky is lovable and really grows on you to the point where you can’t help but buy into the idea of these two learning how to communicate with one another through some tinkering on a sophisticated translation software before becoming best buds.

Project Hail Mary brings to mind the great unlikely friendship films from history like E.T. (1982) and The Iron Giant (1999) and offers a wholesome, heart-tugging buddy-up adventure that leaves you feeling all warm and fuzzy by the end. If there’s any criticism that comes to mind it’s that sometimes less is more, especially in the film’s closing sequence which feels like it could have ended at about 3 different points, but beyond that, Goddard’s screenplay and Lord and Miller’s knack for creating thought provoking moments amidst the craze of a situation is second to none. Sure, the significance of what’s at stake (the extinction of mankind) takes a backseat at times to just let you enjoy being in the company of Grace and Rocky, but it’s really through their friendship and “every little thing is gonna be alright” energy that Project Hail Mary finds its groove.

Project Hail Mary opens nationally from Thursday 19 March.

98th Academy Awards: Predictions

We may have waited a little longer than usual, but at last our favourite event of the year is finally upon us: Oscars Night at Hollywood’s Dolby Theatre! And our three resident scribes are here once again to offer their tips as to who will be victorious in each of 24 categories — including the all-new prize for Best Casting.

Head below to see the titles that Arnel, Darcy and Tom are predicting will head home with a statuette at the 98th Academy Awards which, by the way, are happening from 10am on Monday, March 16th (Naarm time).

Best Picture

What will win // What deserves to win

Arnel: One Battle After Another // One Battle After Another

Darcy: One Battle After Another // One Battle After Another

Tom: Sinners // Sinners

Best Director

Arnel: Paul Thomas Anderson (One Battle…) // Paul Thomas Anderson (One Battle…)

Darcy: Paul Thomas Anderson (One Battle…) // Paul Thomas Anderson (One Battle…)

Tom: Paul Thomas Anderson (One Battle…) // Ryan Coogler (Sinners)

Best Actor

Arnel: Timothée Chalamet (Marty Supreme) // Leonardo DiCaprio (One Battle…)

Darcy: Timothée Chalamet (Marty Supreme) // Wagner Moura (The Secret Agent)

Tom: Michael B. Jordan (Sinners) // Michael B. Jordan

Best Actress

Arnel: Jessie Buckley (Hamnet) // Rose Byrne (If I Had Legs I’d Kick You)

Darcy: Jessie Buckley (Hamnet) // Renate Reinsve (Sentimental Value)

Tom: Jessie Buckley (Hamnet) // Emma Stone (Bugonia)

Jessie Buckley is a firm favourite to win Best Actress for her role as Agnes in Hamnet
Best Supporting Actor

Arnel: Sean Penn (One Battle…) // Sean Penn  (One Battle…)

Darcy: Sean Penn (One Battle…) // Benicio Del Toro (One Battle…)

Tom: Sean Penn (One Battle…) // Delroy Lindo (Sinners)

Best Supporting Actress

Arnel: Amy Madigan (Weapons) // Teyana Taylor (One Battle…)

Darcy: Amy Madigan (Weapons) // Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas (Sentimental Value)

Tom: Wunmi Mosaku (Sinners) // Teyana Taylor (One Battle…)

Best Original Screenplay

Arnel: Sinners // Sinners

Darcy: Sinners // Sentimental Value

Tom: Sinners // Sinners

Best Adapted Screenplay

Arnel: One Battle After Another // One Battle…

Darcy: One Battle After Another // One Battle…

Tom: One Battle After Another // One Battle…

Best Animated Feature

Arnel: KPop Demon Hunters // Zootopia 2

Darcy: KPop Demon Hunters // KPop Demon Hunters

Tom: KPop Demon Hunters // KPop Demon Hunters

KPop Demon Hunters should get it Done, Done, Done in the Animated Feature category
Best International Feature

Arnel: Sentimental Value // It Was Just an Accident

Darcy: Sentimental Value // Sentimental Value

Tom: Sentimental Value // Sentimental Value

Best Documentary Feature

Arnel: The Perfect Neighbor

Darcy: The Perfect Neighbor // The Perfect Neighbor

Tom: The Perfect Neighbor

Best Documentary Short Subject

Arnel: All the Empty Rooms

Darcy: All the Empty Rooms // All the Empty Rooms

Tom: All the Empty Rooms

Best Live-Action Short

Arnel: Two People Exchanging Saliva

Darcy: Two People Exchanging Saliva // Two People Exchanging Saliva

Tom: The Singers

Best Animated Short

Arnel: Retirement Plan

Darcy: Butterfly // Butterfly

Tom: The Girl Who Cried Pearls

Sinners has the most nominations at this year’s Oscars
Best Original Score

Arnel: Ludwig Göransson (Sinners) // Sinners

Darcy: Sinners // Sinners

Tom: Ludwig Göransson (Sinners) // Sinners

Best Original Song

Arnel: “I Lied To You” (Sinners)

Darcy: “Golden” (KPop Demon Hunters) // “I Lied To You” (Sinners)

Tom: “Golden” (KPop Demon Hunters) // “Golden”

Best Sound

Arnel: F1 // One Battle…

Darcy: F1 // Sinners

Tom: F1 // F1

Best Production Design

Arnel: Frankenstein // Frankenstein

Darcy: Frankenstein // Marty Supreme

Tom: Frankenstein // Sinners

Best Cinematography

Arnel: One Battle After Another // One Battle…

Darcy: One Battle After Another // One Battle…

Tom: One Battle After Another // Sinners

One Battle After Another has multiple nominations this year, and is tipped to win more than once
Best Makeup and Hairstyling

Arnel: Frankenstein // Frankenstein

Darcy: Frankenstein // Frankenstein

Tom: Frankenstein // Frankenstein

Best Costume Design

Arnel: Frankenstein // Frankenstein

Darcy: Frankenstein // Frankenstein

Tom: Frankenstein // Sinners

Best Film Editing

Arnel: One Battle After Another // One Battle…

Darcy: One Battle After Another // One Battle…

Tom: One Battle After Another // F1

Best Visual Effects

Arnel: Avatar: Fire and Ash // Avatar: Fire and Ash

Darcy: Avatar: Fire and Ash // Avatar: Fire and Ash

Tom: Avatar: Fire and Ash // Sinners

Best Casting

Arnel: Sinners // Sinners

Darcy: Sinners // The Secret Agent

Tom: Sinners // Marty Supreme

The Testament of Ann Lee is Revelatory

Rating: 4 out of 5.

Melding powerful and emotive choreography with rhythmically propulsive music built out from recontextualised hymns, The Testament of Ann Lee (2025) is an intoxicating musical biopic like no other, creating a singular theatrical experience that will have you asking more from the genre. Centred on the fascinating movement of the Shakers, the 18th-century religious group known for their ecstatic dancing, Mona Fastvold’s exploration into humanity, ambition, and religion in a moment of turmoil and potential is an unexpected revelation in cinema this year.

The film operates as a probing look into personal religion and how it can be expanded into a community, with Fastvold exploding the potential of the story into a wild and emotive musical that feels grounded in the power of the Shaker movement through its choreography and music. At the heart of it all is the titular Ann Lee, the rare female religious leader whose story is easily worth an emotive and expressionistic biopic starring one of the industry’s best actors in Amanda Seyfried. Spurred by unimaginable grief and some notable, potentially queer subtext, Ann is devoted to becoming a prophet of the Shakers she has found herself the leader of, seeing the act of celibacy as a key tenet of driving away sin, even as the movement is built on the overwhelming sense of religious community born out of dance and bodily movement.

Ann’s decision to shift the movement towards celibacy can only be accepted for so long by the large community in Manchester, as well as her husband, Abraham (Christopher Abbott), a simple man who will walk with her to the edge of his faith, but not beyond his human desires. Staying by Ann’s side through it all is her brother William (Lewis Pullman) and close friend Mary (Thomasin McKenzie), who also serves as the film’s narrator in one of the best uses of lengthy expositional narration in years. 

Stacy Martin and Amanda Seyfried in The Testament of Ann Lee (2025).

Remixed from Shaker hymns, composer Daniel Blumberg follows up award-winning work on Fastvold’s previous film, The Brutalist (2024), with a starkly different collection of music, combining beautifully with the ensemble’s choreography that always stays within the realm of absurd realism that the Shakers are known for. Seyfried allows the melodies to transcend the screen, using the repetitions of the hymns as a hypnotic bedrock to build out some exalted musical numbers. 

Working previously as a co-writer on her partner Brady Corbet’s standout film The Brutalist, Fastvold’s film works as a fascinating companion piece of equal quality. Both Ann Lee and The Brutalist are fixated on ambitious figures that see potential in the pursuit of America, believing themselves to be called to a higher purpose in some form, with the faith that this purpose will shield them from the dangers that lie ahead. While Corbet’s film echoes its protagonist’s mode of deliberate architecture (as its namesake) to tell its wider story of faith, religion, and pursuit, Fastvold’s film moves with the grace of fresh silk and dance.

The Testament of Ann Lee transcends the bounds of its screen when the small group manage to obtain passage by boat to New York, with an extraordinary piece of montage, choreography and music as good as any you’ll find this decade. Fastvold’s exploration of the newly American striver through the unique lens of an upstart religious sect in England, stymied by the lack of progressive thinking at home, is swept up in the power of the musical genre at its best, with Seyfried commanding the helm with a mixture of mania and overwhelming grace.

Amanda Seyfried and Lewis Pullman in The Testament of Ann Lee (2025).

She contends with this part of the film in a complex understanding of many sides to the Shaker history of driven American conquest. The group see America as untoiled land, perhaps more accepting of a female preacher and of their unconventional worship practices. As they arrive in New York, however, they are almost immediately confronted by a slave auction, which Ann sees as barbaric sin; she is here to cleanse in her mission to expand the movement.

A story of finding divine ambition in community and connection, Ann Lee feels powerfully tied to many period-set ‘Great Men’ films like There Will Be Blood (2007), but shown through a woman’s lens. With a pivotal montage of the Shakers building their housing and village, we see Ann less as a wise prophet and that of project manager and architect, reflecting many scenes in The Brutalist, bathed in hopeful sunlight and warm wooden surroundings. Rarely have we seen such a powerful set of companion stories, especially ones filmed so similarly and with equal ambition.

But this is not just a film of personal ambition built on grief and personal turmoil; it is crucially a film driven by ideas of faith and religion. This may steer off many an agnostic cinemagoer in ways Fastvold and Corbet’s previous film didn’t (although that film is as Jewish in nature as this film is Christian); to open your heart to the story is no different than the task given to an audience in many films.

As difficult a proposition as this film is for audiences, the lack of Academy recognition Fastvold and her collaborators received this awards season is surprising. It is especially difficult to reckon with as The Testament of Ann Lee is a more intelligently woven story of ambition and grief than the walloping Hamnet (2025), which received eight nominations. For those crying out for individual voices still striving to work with Hollywood studios, you simply have to witness this fascinating and engrossing film from a truly singular voice.

The Testament of Ann Lee is in select theatres now.

Blue Moon: A Character Study that takes a While to Find its Grove

Rating: 3 out of 5.

Blue Moon preview screening provided by Sony Pictures

There’s a lot of talking in Richard Linklater’s Blue Moon, a film focused around a single evening in a single location that has been described as something akin to a theatre experience on screen. It’s fitting that in such a film there is a lot of talking since, if the film’s title hasn’t given it away, it revolves around Blue Moon creator Lorenz Hart (played enigmatically here by Ethan Hawke), a serial conversationalist (often to his own detriment) as he works to convince himself and those around him that he’s holding it together while his past collaborator, Richard Rogers (Andrew Scott) and his new lyricist Oscar Hammerstein (Simon Delaney), are heaped with praise following the successful opening of their Oklahoma! musical.

Setting a film entirely around the bar and lobby of a hotel while subjecting the audience to one man’s incessant talking is no easy feat, but audiences familiar with Linklater’s work (especially those that are diehard fans), will lap this approach up. For starters, Ethan Hawke does a fantastic job of carrying the weight of the film, no matter how small he is framed by Linklater (Hart was 5 feet tall; Hawke, by comparison, is 5″10). For such a small individual, Hart’s voice echoes the farthest here, with Hawke capturing his larger-than-life persona tremendously, and he’s deservedly received an Oscar nomination for it.

The film starts off rather shaky though, showing Hart on the evening of his death in a back alley, a major fall from grace for someone who was so revered, before jumping back some months to that opening night of Oklahoma! and the mingling that ensued post-show. Sure, this shows the stark difference between a man who had countless people adore him and the man who would die alone, but just as soon as this opening pops up, it’s just as quickly gone from the mind. The shakiness continues though as side characters are established like Eddie the bartender (Bobby Cannavale) and E.B. White (Patrick Kennedy), but like in any function you may have ever been to where small talk happens, they serve merely to keep you entertained until the real guests you want to speak to arrive.

(L-R) David Rawle as George Roy Hill, Margaret Qualley as Elizabeth Weiland and Ethan Hawke as Lorenz Hart in Blue Moon.

One such guest is Elizabeth Weiland (Margaret Qualley), a young 20 year old college student who Hart has been selling those side characters the narrative that he has something deeper and more meaningful going on with her. In truth, she views him as just a really good friend, someone who she loves but “just not in that way,” a line that comes at a crucial moment in the film, contextualising Hart’s erratic, borderline needy behaviour. The other guest is the star of the show, Richard Rogers, someone we (or those, like myself, who are not familiar with theatre at all) learn Hart created some legendary plays with. Their relationship holds strong, and while we learn it’s had testing moments (alcoholism from Hart’s side playing into that), their dynamic is by far the most interesting given their history and the insights that it gives into why Linklater chose this night of all nights to focus on.

On the surface, Linklater frames Hart as a man who craves attention, both intentionally and unintentionally because his disposition permits he does so. As the film unfolds, his flaws creep up, including his insecurities and desire to not fade in the background given he has become so used to being the centre of attention. It takes a good 70 minutes to get to that part though as Hart becomes almost smaller by the frame, especially after paying to have some alone time with Elizabeth in a cloak room where he shows interest in her sexual escapades, like some voyeur who gets off on the idea of another person’s pleasure. You begin to pity him more than anything, with Hawke really showing the fragility of the man when he’s not in an open space around others — a place where he uses his talking as a shield to maintain this facade of composure that he’s built.

Blue Moon knows what audience it’s for, so if you’re unfamiliar with theatre like I am, the humour and references will more than likely fly over your head and make it difficult to engage with or care for these people and their line of work. That said, as a character study it offers a wonky but gradually clearer insight into Lorenz Hart, even if it takes a while to get to any deeper unraveling of this broken side of him.

Blue Moon opens nationally from Thursday 29 January.

The Secret Agent is a Biting and Playful Political Thriller

Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

Set in the Northeast of Brazil in the city of Recife in 1977, just as the country’s military dictatorship rounds third base, Kleber Mendonça Filho’s relaxed but probing political film The Secret Agent (2025) is like nothing else you’ll encounter in a cinema this year. Able to open a double feature with either Dazed and Confused (1993) or Army of Shadows (1969), the film wears many hats that in less assured hands would appear frayed and confused. Thankfully, Filho has levelled up as a filmmaker and storyteller, letting his playful tendencies heighten the moments of potent tension and violence that in less capable hands would beguile an audience.

Centring a former professor and widower with a political target on his back, Armando (an exceptional Wagner Moura) returns to Recife to collect his son from his in-laws, seeking refuge in the warm embrace of a small community of political refugees helmed by Dona Sebastiana, in one of the year’s best supporting performances by Tânia Maria that feels achingly real.

Wagner Moura’s work shifts elusively from room to room as Armando quickly surveys his surroundings to uncover how he needs to respond to each interaction. The highly regarded actor is given the role of a lifetime and is set to acquire several awards, as a man with a committed goal, but never stops living his elusive life, even as the violence around the corner draws nearer.

Wagner Moura as Armando in The Secret Agent (2025).

By placing this political and community-based struggle in the veins of a hangout film, Filho supports Moira’s performance with an outstanding cast that gives life to the past by giving a beating heart to this community of political refugees of his own country.

Echoes ripple through buildings, but the truth in history is something that must be searched for. Filho explores his country’s past and the people who inhabit those histories not as vessels for political tropes and ideologies, but as human beings who pass away long before their heroism is uncovered. The secondary narrative device of university students seeking to uncover the truth through tape recordings of our central story is surprising when it first appears, but it allows a dense exploration of ideas to occur. Filho’s way of shooting these scenes gives what could’ve been a contrived narrative crutch a potent level of emotional intimacy, allowing the film’s final sequence to sing.

In voicing The Secret Agent in the language of De Palma and Pakula, masters of the genre and time period the film is based, Filho is placing his film in conversation with the genre of political thrillers that most audiences are familiar with, allowing a discourse to occur across the screen between time and continents, ideas that are very much at the heart of the narrative. Alongside this, the film is a Cinema Paradiso (1988) level love affair with cinema itself, playing out in large swathes at a theatre, set against the backdrop of the sweltering summer backdrop of Jaws (1975) and the way it took the world by storm. Opening the film is the beguiling discovery of a leg inside a shark being studied at a local university, sweeping us up in the strange and playful mode Filho builds the world around, all while leading us down deeper and deeper with an unnerving sense of impending violence.

Like his previous film, Bacurau (2019), a rhythmic playfulness quickly sweeps an audience into a story, but a moment of visceral violence and aggression can pierce through that world like a stray bullet. With The Secret Agent, Filho’s eye is sharper and more directed, but playfulness is still the engine that drives his work. People do not stop living as the plots of his films take place; everything and everyone is transient, a poignant concept to maintain in a political thriller of this kind. 

(From left) Robério Diógenes, Wagner Moura, and Igor de Araújo in The Secret Agent.

While the political thriller genre is defined by American filmmakers like De Palma and Pakula, peaking in the conspiratorial aftermath of Watergate and the Nixon administration, in recent years, the genre has been defined by international cinema. The Secret Agent asks much of its audience in terms of prior knowledge of Brazil’s military dictatorship, but in a modern climate of authoritarian spot fires around the globe, many audiences will see themselves in the images Filho shows us. Scenes of political refugees commenting on the limited groceries that are handed by a local farmer trying to assist them are as keenly observed as the moments of shocking violence.

Returning to the present day with the students weaving themselves into the stories of the past, we are in a constant meditation with ideas of bearing witness through aural recollection and the intimate but limited way of history being investigated. A pivotal scene in the film’s movement towards the thriller genre plays out when Armando and Elza (Maria Fernanda Cândido) discuss getting his family out of the country and the hit being put on his head, all while recording the conversation. This gripping scene is shown alongside Flavia (Laura Lufési), a heavily invested student, probing the moments we are shown, trying to glean insight into this moment and what may have occurred in that room outside of the captured audio.

What does it mean to tell a story of such darkness with this level of lightness? The film’s Godardian level of bounce and freedom activates a unique form of scene-to-scene tension not often seen in the political skin that Filho’s film wears. But, while the tension of these genre moments is usually played for excitement, The Secret Agent conditions us to find these moments profoundly reflective, peering into these lives with an open heart and a wry smirk of the absurdity of buffoonish political violence. A high-wire act that appears shockingly relaxed.

The Secret Agent is in select theatres now.

Best of 2025: Tom’s Picks

With 2025 having drawn to a close, Rating Frames is looking back at the past twelve months of cinema and streaming releases that have come our way. In the third and last of our series of articles, Tom is taking a look at his ten favourite films of the year that was.

There remains a great deal of Doom and Gloom around the film industry, with good reason. A need to appease shareholders has seen mega-corporations merge to boost their market share and profits; Artificial Intelligence continues to evolve, insofar that the technology is replacing jobs until now performed solely by teams of humans; once-bankable actors, directors and franchises no longer bring in the big bucks; and box-office revenues globally still haven’t returned to their pre-pandemic highs.

And yet, these past few months have provided yours truly every reason to be hopeful about the future of cinema. Look no further than the examples below, many of which are feature-length productions guided by auteurs and showcasing diverse voices – just a few years ago, these films would have been considered big risks for the studios credited with financing and releasing them, but their gambles have paid off handsomely, lapped-up by audiences hungry for fresh ideas and original stories.

To that end, this writer is of the belief that 2025 will come to be known as the year that Hollywood finally rediscovered its mojo, the dawn of a second New Wave that celebrates and rewards directors who possess great artistic vision. And these here are the films which shall come to define it.

10. KPop Demon Hunters

Not since Disney’s Frozen (2013) has an animated feature so readily and deservedly ruled the cultural zeitgeist. Unceremoniously added to Netflix’s catalogue in June, this genre-melding fable broke free of its seemingly-niche target audience to become staple viewing in family households, entice large crowds to theatres with sing-alongs and earn a place in music history by having one of its numbers topping pop-charts the world over.

Driving that success is qualities like a bright palette, flashy visuals, mesmeric fight sequences, great songs, and a trio of distinctive lead characters who come across as quirky, unapologetic dorks, yet just are just as capable of being strong, resourceful and ultra-cool heroines. Even non-fans of Korean pop music and fantasy stories will be won over by KPop Demon Hunters, offering further proof that its studio, Sony Pictures Animation is becoming the industry’s focal point for creative and boundary-pushing works.

9. Wake Up Dead Man

First there was Knives Out (2019), a smart and comedic subversion of the Whodunit that delivered one of cinema’s more memorable characters in recent times; then came Glass Onion (2022) which retained its eccentric protagonist while upping the laughs and intrigue. Following both is Wake Up Dead Man, and though not as inventive nor funny as its precursors, this latest chapter is the most compelling mystery to feature Benoit Blanc so far.

Lying within are pertinent commentaries about the role faith and religion plays in our lives; a script that has viewers guessing and second-guessing until the Agatha Christie-like reveal of the true culprit; and conflicts attuned to contemporary politics which come across as neither snarky nor patronising. And that’s not to forget the all-star list of thespians who inhabit their roles brilliantly, including Daniel Craig who’s delightful once more in the role of Blanc.

8. Superman

Producing a movie centred on America’s original and ultimate superhero that wins over critics and punters should be an easy task, and yet in this century alone, Warner Bros has twice brought the venerable comic-book franchise to the big screen with a reboot that underwhelmed parties in both camps. Who better, then, to restore faith in the Man of Steel than a director who made a group of obscure, space-faring bounty hunters a box-office drawcard, and transformed a reviled super-villain property into a gag-filled spectacle.

James Gunn’s Superman is a blockbuster that understands the ethos of its titular metahuman better than most adaptations that bear his name – he’s not a god or alien, rather someone just like us who happens to possess otherworldly powers. The film’s tone is welcomely cartoonish and silly but equally sincere and loveable, meaning any initial hesitations about cheap-looking sets and vibrant colour-grading are pretty much forgotten about within minutes. Also worthy of mention is the peerless cast and plentiful references to its Richard Donner-helmed forebear.

7. Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning

“I need you to trust me one last time,” says Ethan Hunt to his superiors, though he could well be addressing theatregoers in that statement too. For close to three decades, we trusted him to deliver the kind of high-octane, jaw-dropping thrills that demanded to be seen on the largest screen possible, and our confidence in him was justly rewarded with the eighth feature-length instalment of a spy franchise once confined to television, but now inexplicably linked with the saviour of cinema: Thomas Cruise Mapother IV.

The Final Reckoning is burdened with issues of world-building and slow pacing in its early stages – something of a trend with 2020s action flicks – which soon after yield to some of the tensest action sequences ever witnessed, many involving practical effects and some worrying enough to give viewers a nervous breakdown. Combine that with the pertinent discussions around A.I. and assured direction of Christopher McQuarrie, and the result is a near-perfect send-off.

6. One Battle After Another

Now for the most contentious opinion shared in our end-of-year reflections – where both of his fellow Rating Frames scribes have placed the latest Paul Thomas Anderson feature at the very top of their lists, yours truly has opted for a less enthusiastic view and a position five rungs below. Reasons why are hard to pinpoint, but there is a nagging sensation that an element is missing, an itch not being scratched; a feeling the picture could be funnier, livelier, more subversive, more bonkers.

None of this is to say that One Battle shouldn’t be showered with praise, or else there’d be no mention of its title here. Of greatest appreciation is Sean Penn as the antagonist Colonel Lockjaw; Jonny Greenwood’s piano-led score which heightens the tension; and a world that perfectly captures the USA’s current political climate (note the militant police forces and sense of autocracy) without hitting too close to home a la Ari Aster’s Eddington.

5. Mickey 17

Having effusively asserted himself as one of the best directors working today with the Oscar-winning Parasite (2019), anticipation was high, and the wait long, for Maestro Bong’s follow-up. His newest effort, released in the early months of 2025, draws upon several of the motifs and themes utilised in the Korean auteur’s previous works, yet sets itself apart by – as Arnie pointed out in his Top 10 article – striking a more positive and hopeful tone.

Other merits of Mickey 17 include the fantastic production design with its grimy, rudimentary sets; the hypnotic soundtrack of composer and returning Bong collaborator Jung Jae-il; the superb editing of Yang Jin-mo which keeps the pace smooth throughout; and Mark Ruffalo, who’s a delight in every scene as the Trump-adjacent despot Kenneth Marshall.

4. Bugonia

The current political scene is casting a long shadow over Hollywood’s creative output, as evidenced by the previous two films mentioned and their not-so-veiled mocking of the Free World’s supposed leader and his lackeys. That same paranoia can be found in Greek auteur Yorgos Lanthimos’ latest, an allegorical narrative that’s all at once clever, thought-provoking and scary.

In keeping with the rest of Yorgos’ oeuvre, Bugonia has a delightfully off-kilter tone, aided in part by the bombastic, haunting and ethereal score of Jerskin Fendrix. Biting humour alleviates the stressful atmosphere, often when it’s least expected, as does newcomer Aidan Delbis in the role of Don, the screenplay’s moral and rational centre, and someone who very nearly outshines his established co-stars, Emma Stone and Jesse Plemons – both of whom prove to be their usual exceptional selves.

3. Hundreds of Beavers

“How on Earth,” you might be wondering, “does a low-budget slapstick comedy which premiered in 2022 end up appearing in a Best of 2025 list?” The answer is thus: for many Australians, the past year was their first chance to see Mike Cheslik’s homage to our favourite medium’s early 20th Century pioneers like Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd, whether that be through SBS On Demand or limited showings in local theatres like Cinema Nova.

Jokes abound in Hundreds of Beavers, which commits wholeheartedly to the silent-era aesthetics by telling its narrative almost entirely without the spoken word. Most gags are physical in nature with all manner of harm done to our hero, Jean Kayak (Ryland Brickson Cole Tews) and his mammalian foes (various human actors in oversized animal costumes) while a meme-referencing needle-drop over the end-credits provides the cherry on top of a very rich and decadent cake of laughs. You’ll be hard-pressed to find a movie that puts a bigger smile on your face.

2. But Also John Clarke

Being a fan of its eponymous subject, and in particular his political satire meant this documentary was virtually assured a placing in this writer’s Top 10 list, and if judged solely on personal sentiment would easily slot into First Place. Indeed, its sole irksome drawback is that not enough time is devoted to his impact beyond Australia and New Zealand.

Yet to view this solely as a fawning appreciation for a comedic titan would be unfair to director Lorin Clarke, for non-fans of her late father will find plenty of interest within But Also John Clarke. Archival clips of his work, some dating back to the 1970s prove just as fresh and witty as when they first aired, while contemporary interviews offer fascinating insights into the legacy of his long-haired, gumboot-toting alter-ego Fred Dagg.

1. Sinners

The horror genre has become the go-to place for directors to establish their mark on the medium, whether they be upstarts hoping to earn a name for themselves or industry veterans eyeing status as a legend of their craft; Sinners puts Ryan Coogler firmly and assuredly in the latter category.  To label it simply as a horror flick would be a disservice to Coogler’s genius though, for his blockbuster is an astute melange of several other influences – it’s a Western, a musical, an action flick with tinges of romance and comedy.

Here lies a thrilling, classy and transcendent experience, boasting an excellent cast headlined by Michael B. Jordan in dual roles, alongside phenomenal supporting performances from Wunmi Mosaku, Delroy Lindo, Hailee Steinfeld and Miles Caton. Impressing further is the film’s showstopping music sequence that honours Black artists of every era, and Ludwig Gorannson’s epic blues-inspired score that echoes the strains of Terence Blanchard, all combining to form the most awe-inspiring release of 2025.

Honourable mentions: F1, The Fantastic Four: First Steps, Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein and Travis Head’s century in Perth.

No Other Choice is the Work of a Master

Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

A showman like no other, Korean visionary Park Chan Wook elicits more joy and wonder out of an audience from a perfectly timed cross-dissolve than most car chases filmed this decade. A filmmaker who is constantly looking to find the tipping point of extremity without falling into the world of camp, Park has cultivated a devoted fanbase that expands with each new entry, especially in recent years, with his fearlessness to work in the grime of modern life 

Upon exiting No Other Choice (2025) in a delirium, it is clear that Park is the greatest modern visual stylist. While his stories can vary in interest and quality, as a filmmaker who is obsessed with the power of the art of editing, you will always leave his films satisfied. Adapted from the legend Donald Westlake’s The Ax from 1997, Park’s screenplay makes the key decision to maintain the protagonist’s occupation and narrative arc, showing how, as time passes, the crushing weight of modern capitalism has only increased. Centring a literal paper pusher, we walk hand in ham-fisted hand, gliding on the back of whip pans and transitions that will make film students furiously scribbling notes. 

After being made redundant after the acquisition of the paper company by an American conglomerate, Man-su (Lee Byung-hun) is sent to a support group for the newly unemployed, selling self-worth and virtue as its own reward. But, after tasting mild success and a bountiful life with his family, Man-su is after a return to cold, hard reward.

Built on the late capitalist mindset that success can only be achieved through the pain of another, Man-su’s plan ultimately lands in Park’s wheelhouse, getting rid of the more hireable paper men in town, so he is all that remains. Amongst all the extremity and chaotic joy gushing out of wild filmmaking choices, the story elicits an overwhelming sense of pain as we see a group of men that should be in community with one another, forced to compete for what will ultimately be a hollow prize.

Lee Byung-hun as Man-Su in No Other Choice.

Sitting somewhere between Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s Cloud (2024) and Tokyo Sonata (2008) as modern tales on the devolving psyche of work culture and living under the cruel thumb of capitalism. That Neon in a marketing push sent an open invite to the fortune 500 company CEO’s says everything about how pointed the film aims to be at its primary villain.

Lee’s performance holds down the film’s extremity, preventing it from turning into a circus. His desperation exudes from him as a flop sweat, gritting his teeth through every moment, anxious that the moment he stops to consider the repercussions, it will all crash down. In moments where the world appears to react based on Man-su’s emotions, anything seems possible in this farcical satire that moves with a feverish pace. There is a fleeting moment when a potential final victim offers a job that we feel an unexpected glimmer of hope that we can get off the road. But as is the case with most Park Chan Wook films, that road, once entered, is one-way.

Park is in a tier above all when it comes to pushing the visual medium forward with a fever pitch and an unmatched style. Like his idol Alfred Hitchcock, Park sees his role as both old school entertainer and cinematic visionary who asks what is possible in the medium they have devoted their life to. In his recent work, Park has devoted an enormous amount of time to uncovering ways to use the reflective world of phone and computer screens to tell a story that is still compelled by the characters holding them. When we see Man-su’s reflected face alongside his screen as he drives himself further and further into his doomscroll, we so easily see ourselves. These scenes are comedic but intensely revealing, and make almost all contemporary filmmakers look like cowards for hiding in period filmmaking.

(From left) Son Ye-Jin as Miri and Lee Byung-hun as Man-Su in No Other Choice.

Always veering into doing too much, Park hides as much in its maximalist frames as he shows. Many have criticised the filmmaker for over-directing his screenplays, never allowing the writing to gleam through the forest of his craft, which I believe to be a false and overly simplistic reading of his work. In his very best films, whether original scripts or adaptations like in No Other Choice, he highlights the power and potency of the writing by its sheer ability to stand alongside some of the most visionary filmmaking this century through iconic characters and set pieces. It is only in his films like Stoker, with lesser scripts, that become mostly known for a scene transition (show hair transition scene from YouTube). 

What allows Park to ride so close to the edge of camp absurdism without toppling over is his ability to play to a crowd, both in enjoyment and the collective experience of being surrounded by strangers, all uncertain of what will happen next, which makes live sports an enduring event. With all respect to the perfect chase scene at the conclusion of One Battle After Another (2025), the legend of the final act, Park Chan Wook’s No Other Choice, has the finale of the year. A glorious send-up of modern late-stage capitalism as a ‘be careful what you wish for’ fairy tale that blends melodrama into a living nightmare into the best satire in years. It is a farcical screed of capitalism that gloriously blooms into something unexpectedly transcendent in its conclusion. 

The poetic irony in its final moments play like the deterministic singularity point that all modern art about the crushing weight of capitalism arrives at, there is literally no other choice. How Park doesn’t arrive at a place of crippling nihilism in its final moments but of cruel irony and humanity is nothing short of astounding. His revenge fables are without equal in modern storytelling, with No Other Choice arriving into this extended canon in surprising ways.

No Other Choice is in select theatres now.

Best of 2025: Darcy’s Picks

With 2025 having drawn to a close, Rating Frames is looking back at the past twelve months of cinema and streaming releases that have come our way. In the second of our series of articles, Darcy is taking a look at his ten favourite films of the year that was.

The medium is the message of films in 2025. In a time where feature filmmaking has to, in some form or another, justify its existence on the screen in comparison to TV or internet slop fed through an infinite reel, the best work to come out this year weaponises the stranglehold a great long-form story can have on an audience. A mixture of old masters and bright new talents across genres and styles, the top of a terrific year in film was all improved by viewing them in a packed theatre, demonstrating that cinema is still at its best as a communal experience, from incisive documentaries and quiet family dramas to a provocative action spectacle that invites an audience to question its worldview.

10. The Perfect Neighbor

So much of good documentary work comes down to access and editing, and Geeta Gandbhir’s heartbreaking portrait of a Ajike Owens’ Florida community and the very active role racism can take in someone’s life has both in droves. Using almost exclusively bodycam footage, police station security tapes, and 911 calls, Gandbhir and editor Viridiana Lieberman weave a poignant and incisive story of the state’s Stand Your Ground laws and the reality of how they are abused. No other film this year will make your blood boil and your heart sink.

9. 28 Years Later

Returning 18 years later with a supposed three screenplays in hand, Alex Garland (a personal favourite writer) wanted to tell the story of the UK in recent years in a franchise that has defined a lot of 21st Century English cinema, with a remarkable and unexpectedly emotional film. Centring on a young family led by an impressive newcomer in Alfie Williams, the rich level of depth and commentary in 28 Years Later allows what could’ve easily been a quick money grab by Garland and Danny Boyle to become an instant Brexit classic. With its exploration of community and isolationism with the backdrop of a widespread outbreak, 28 Years Later places itself at the forefront of art in conversation with the world in the 2020s.

8. The Mastermind

A sleepy political heist hangout with the actor of the moment, Kelly Reichardt’s 70s whisper-of-a-film will leave a long tail that may define the year in the future. Starring Josh O’Connor in his best performance to date as an uninspired suburban dad wanting to pull off an art heist, The Mastermind glides through its own world with a protagonist who believes himself smart and savvy enough to pull off the crime. Reichardt’s hidden sharp blade of focusing on someone causing chaos through their quiet ego of knowing better than those around them allows the world around O’Connor to build from gentle embers to a raging fire.

7. Sorry, Baby

A wonderfully modern dramedy, Sorry, Baby may just usher in a new era of 2020s mumblecore with a shining new voice in Eva Victor. A story that easily could’ve landed on television and overextended, Victor, who wrote, directed, and starred in this thorny comedy of unsurety, loves cinema enough to operate and thrive within the condensed medium. As a young, depressed literary professor, Victor’s Agnes is one of the best cinematic characters of the year, a charming and thorny person you can’t help but connect with. A film that handles heavy subjects with grace and clarity, Victor has emerged as one of the brightest emerging filmmakers and performers in years.

6. Sirât

A modern experiential travel saga akin to William Friedkin’s Sorcerer (1977), Oliver Laxe’s Sirât must be seen to be believed, with several earth-shaking moments that will dig into your bones and leave scars. A shocking cinematic experience, Sirât follows a father and son as they search through an underground Moroccan desert rave scene to find their daughter and sister. The film explores community and connection, propelling you forward in line with Kangding Ray’s incredible music soundscapes.

5. Sinners

The future promise of exciting blockbuster cinema is also one of the most enjoyable and prickly films of the year. Ryan Coogler’s exploration into race, music, and history is tied to an explosive vampire action film that proves adults will still show up if given some real meat to sink their teeth into. With a terrific ensemble and a remarkable breakout by Miles Caton (so good you do not question his future self played by Buddy Guy), Coogler’s musical knows how to entertain a crowd while still provoking thoughts about how culture and music are consumed.

4. BLKNWS: Terms & Conditions

My most anticipated film experience of the year delivers and beguiles like no other. Perhaps the greatest music video director around, working with Beyonce, Kendrick Lamar, FKA Twigs, and Flying Lotus, Kahlil Joseph has a visual eye that blends hyper-modern documentary styles — which includes YouTube clips and memes — with his love and influence from the legendary Thai director Apichatpong Weerasethakul. Debuting the first iteration of BLKNWS at the Venice Biennale in 2019 as a video installation, Joseph and A24 collaborated to expand the work into a feature-length experience like no other. The film will be hard to track down, but it is as essential a watch in 2025 as any film on this list. BLKNWS: Terms & Conditions is a dense yet enjoyable work that will have you asking more from documentary and experiential cinema for the rest of the decade.

3. Sentimental Value

A tremendous follow up to Joachim Trier’s millennial classic The Worst Person in the World (2021), Sentimental Value pulses and ripples through generations of familial connection and disconnection with grace and power that feels open and inviting even in its thorniest moments. Trier and all his creative collaborators understand that to create is to bridge an ocean of the unsaid, even if that means building a replica of your generational family home on a soundstage, only to have it hidden on the 18th page of the Netflix arthouse section. Trier and Vogt understand deeply how, even through that artifice, true openness and connection can be translated into a final, powerful image of understanding but not resolution.

2. No Other Choice

With all respect to the perfect chase scene at the conclusion of the film at the top of my list, the master of the final act, Park Chan Wook’s No Other Choice, has the finale of the year. A glorious send-up of modern late-stage capitalism as a ‘be careful what you wish for’ fairy tale that blends melodrama into a living nightmare into the best satire in years. How Park doesn’t arrive at a place of crippling nihilism in its final moments but of cruel irony and humanity is nothing short of astounding. His revenge fables are without equal in modern storytelling, with No Other Choice entering this extended canon in surprising ways. No one is pushing the language of cinematic storytelling more than Park with his visualisations of doomscrolling as a uniquely modern debilitation.

1. One Battle After Another

A film that leaps off the screen in an instant, One Battle After Another works the way most immediately immortal films do. And much like many of the great immortal films, I find myself reading rather than writing about Paul Thomas Anderson’s incisive work of contemporary revolutionary cinema that even when it pulls punches, compels you forward. I’m not surprised a new PTA film that finally delves into contemporary life is my favourite film to be released in its 2020s, as his deeply humanist approach to writing over the last 30 years has defined so much of my taste in art. Combine that with subject matter I find endlessly compelling as a modern look at the humanity and personhood of revolutionaries that is fuelled by the past but never backwards-looking, and you have a film that will be the yardstick all other films will be measured against.

Honourable mentions: Black Bag, Caught By The Tides, Eephus.