Release Date – 27th February 2026, Cert – 15, Run-time – 2 hours 15 minutes, Director – Mona Fastvold

The 18th Century, after a life of tragedy Ann Lee (Amanda Seyfried) spreads her religious Shaker movement from England to America, becoming a figurehead for those who follow, and threaten, her.

The Testament Of Ann Lee is a frustratingly restless film. The Shaker movement the titular character (played by Amanda Seyfried) spreads from the streets of Manchester to its own, God-directed land in pre-revolution America sees people overcome by God’s power and start shaking, convulsing in song and dance. Yet, even their jerkily waving movements feel more calm than the film they feature in. One which bursts into snippets of songs so brief that it feels as if this apparent musical has no proper musical numbers; making Joker 2 look like a wall-to-wall song-and-dance bash.

The longest track repeats the phrase “I love mother” over and over again, after having followed a conversation about false gods. The more it went on I found myself genuinely wondering if it was going to turn out that Ann Lee was a major cult leader. The more the film revolves around her and she becomes a noted leader – multiple synopses for the film have stated that her followers view her as a female incarnation of Christ – the more cultlike it all becomes, and I don’t entirely think that’s the intention. The voiceover throughout (courtesy of Thomasin McKenzie, who appears later in the film) is telling a grand, historical story, even if it occasionally sounds like it’s coming from Philomena Cunk; “they went in search of a wide avenue called Broad Street.”

It’s one of a couple of unintentionally humorous moments in the film, the other being an extended sequence which sees characters trying to find where to build the Shaker town – “paradise through toil and chastity” – guided by an index finger seemingly moved by God. But, aside from Mr Hucknall’s magic finger (gifted unto him by God) there’s little levity throughout this film – co-written by Brutalist writers Mona Fastvold (who also directs) and Brady Corbet, who both have slight musical experience having worked on 2018’s Vox Lux. The Testament Of Ann Lee simply falls flat and feels like a very slow trudge through each event. No matter how much is going on it all simply feels boring.

After being told about a series of births and subsequent bereavements we see a near-montage of this panning out, making it clear that this is going to be a downbeat film. Instances relating to Ann’s marriage to Christopher Abbott’s Abraham and abuse faced come into play, although feel somewhat brief when they are amongst everything else that’s thrown towards the titular character – who Seyfried does her best to keep determined and, more importantly, afloat for the sake of the film. With just how much is going on and what’s also thrown at the audience it’s difficult to work out who this film is for. It feels confused and directionless and rather than targeting a lot of people at once it doesn’t quite feel as if its targeting anyone.

The whole thing is all rather bland and dour. With the titular character seemingly coming out of it through how people seem to have viewed her rather than as herself, being caught up in the perfect image created by the Shaker following that we see grow over the long run-time. The Testament Of Ann Lee eventually feels less like Ann Lee’s personal testament and more it told through the eyes of the devout Shakers, meaning that a lot eventually gets caught in what’s attempted to be shown and in the end perhaps has the opposite depiction and impact. Either way, it all feels as cut up and conflicting as the bursts of song and the fact that this seems to want to be a musical.

Much like the bursts of song throughout, The Testament Of Ann Lee feels jumbled and detached. A long, boring slog where the Shakers feel increasingly cult-like it’s very difficult to know who this is really for.

Release Date – 13th February 2026, Cert – 12 Run-time – 1 hour 45 minutes, Director – Hasan Hadi

90s Iraq, nine-year-old Lamia (Baneen Ahmad Nayyef) is tasked with making a cake for her school to celebrate Saddam Hussein’s birthday, or her family will face punishment. However, ingredients aren’t cheap, or easy to come by.

Saddam Hussein’s face looms over The President’s Cake. If not as a picture on a wall in every room of every building it’s as a mural spread across a wall. A reminder of the threat faced by nine-year-old Lamia (Baneen Ahmad Nayyef) if she fails to make a cake for her school to celebrate Saddam Hussein’s birthday. After her name has been pulled out of a hat the class are reminded of what happened to the kid who failed to bring one of the required gifts the year before – in monotone unison they say that he and his family were dragged to death.

The items to make the cake may be few but they’re also scarce, and expensive. Lamia lives with her grandmother (Waheed Thabet Khreibat) who already struggles to afford to feed the pair of them – leading to a particularly crushing set of circumstances which separates the pair of them part way through – as Lamia and schoolfriend Saeed (Sajad Mohamad Qasem) filter through the nearby markets to her home; a one-room hut floating in the middle of the river, fear grows and grows.

As the characters go from place to place it would be so easy for the events to become farcical. The base narrative – finding the ingredients to make a cake for Saddam Hussein’s birthday – sound as if they could come from a comedy, until the reminder that death is the consequence of failing to do so. But, while there are some occasionally funny moments which maintain the consistent movement of the drama The President’s Cake is a largely simple story that’s told with a good deal of emotion, largely because of what’s contextually playing out in the background. Particularly conveyed in a fantastic central child performance from Nayyef who gets right to the heart of a child aware of the tragedy around her, and that she could face. Facing disgruntled, unrelenting shopkeepers and risky heists, not to mention a missing chicken. Often holding on to the connection she has with her grandmother, and looking after her as much as she’s looked after.

Misfortune rears its head more and more, although the film is more emotionally gripping than bleak. Heartfelt questions met with silence have a particularly striking effect, we feel the tension and disappointment faced by Lamia throughout. We worry and fear for her. The way in which I found myself engaging with the film was quiet yet led to a powerful effect from what I was seeing. Again, much of which coming from the simple context in the events which seamlessly lead from one to the other, avoiding a chaptered feel.

Even in the closing stages the overriding feeling of The President’s Cake is one of emotional tension. Wonderfully created by the cast, particularly the lead, and writer-director Hasan Hadi who quietly and empathetically looks at the poverty and unease struck into struggling 90s Iraq. All with the overhanging threat of death and loss, which takes on different meanings in the separations of the film, while the president gets his cake.

Avoiding farce but still raising some laughs, The President’s Cake is a quietly engaging and emotionally striking film; holding worry, fear and tension throughout the simple yet impactful narrative. All brilliantly captured in the central child performance and reminders of the looming contextual threat.

Release Date – 6th February 2026, Cert – 12, Run-time – 1 hour 30 minutes, Director – Julia Jackman

Noblewoman Cherry (Maika Monroe) is given 101 days to conceive a child, however her husband (Amir El-Masry) keeps rejecting her, with friend Manfred (Nicholas Galitzine) betting that he can seduce her in that time. But, could the stories of maid Hero (Emma Corrin) grow a strength and independence in Cherry?

100 Nights Of Hero is a family fantasy for grown-ups that kids can watch. Throughout the sets, costumes and humour consistently reminded me of The Princess Bride as Emma Corrin’s Hero rolls her eyes at the world and characters around her, much of which she largely sidesteps as she calmly and confidently continues forward with her plan, reacting in the moment seems to be all part of it.

Nicholas Galitzine’s Manfred has 100-days to seduce noblewoman Cherry (Maika Monroe) – “beautiful, obedient, good at chess and falconry.” Her husband Jerome (Amir El-Masry) has been given 101 to conceive a child with her, and so flees ‘on business’ for 100, after having turned her down every night in the months beforehand, taking Manfred’s bet that he can seduce her. However, Hero starts to piece things together and for many nights, and days, tells stories of women telling and discovering stories, against the rule of the men around them, and the strength and confidence that comes with them. Perhaps inspiring something within Cherry.

But, Manfred isn’t going to back down quietly, adamant to show how much of a man he is – the kind who gets up each morning, goes for a run, kills a deer and drags it back; abs covered in sweat and blood) all as part of a rugged routine. However, Cherry often seems to be talking and listening to Hero, undistracted by Manfred’s often arrogant attempts at seduction. While bringing in the aforementioned thoughts of The Princess Bride such moments, and indeed the stories that are told by Hero, have the feeling of a children’s fantasy storybook having been opened up. The film itself, written and directed by Julia Jackman, is based on the graphic novel of the same name by Isabel Greenberg.

This is a fantasy that’s aware of its fantasy elements and has fun with them, bringing in some self-aware humour which is captured in Corrin’s reactions to the world around their character, often acting as our lens into the upfront events, and especially those that Hero tells of in her stories. There’s plenty of humour to be found throughout, including a number of laugh-out-loud moments in running jokes, such as the masked guards in the expansive home who feel like they’ve been pulled from 2015’s Bill. There’s a silliness to certain elements, those which are viewed as particularly ridiculous in how forceful they are in putting across a persona, or simply being brought down a peg, by the titular character, but Jackman never makes the film as a whole feel silly.

Hero’s stories start to, very gradually, light something within Cherry. And their relationship starts to be looked at more as the tally of days passed sprawls more across the screen as the return of Jerome nears. It might take some time for these elements to come together and properly click among what else the film is exploring, particularly in terms of tone which you can feel the more serious moments for the characters trying their best not to rub up or clash against, but it’s not enough to diminish the entertainment factor. Much of which is brought about by the combined design, style and humour of this storybook family fantasy.

A grown-up fantasy that still works for kids, 100 Nights Of Hero has plenty of Princess Bride-esque humour to see it through while it builds up the more serious character beats in its enjoyable, frequently funny storybook world.

Release Date – 30th January 2026, Cert – 12, Run-time – 1 hour 46 minutes, Director – Richard Linklater

Jean-Luc Godard (Guillaume Marbeck) turns his hand from film criticism to filmmaking, however it seems everyone else involved in the largely improvised production of Breathless has no clue what he’s trying to do.

Nouvelle Vague is undoubtedly catering to a rather niche audience, those interested in the production of Jean-Luc Godard’s Breathless, and the birth of the French New Wave. It would be easy to hear the base of the film and brand it as pretentious, and the opening stages could easily come across that way, however as production gets underway what we’re treated to is The Disaster Artist in ’60’s France.

Godard (Guillaume Marbeck) – whose dialogue largely consists of quotes, in a film full of great ones – sets out with the belief that “the best way to criticise a film is to make one,” trading in his critic role at Cahiers du Cinéma to become director. However, with little in the way of script it seems he’s making everything up on the spot, cancelling days of shooting in the morning because ideas haven’t come together. It comes at the frustration of cast, crew and producers who often find themselves standing around with nothing to do, or no clue as to what they’re meant to do. “This is utter madness, and it’s only the beginning” observes one crewmember before the real chaos has been unearthed.

Instead of pretentiousness the screenplay by Holly Gent and Vincent Palmo (translated by Michèle Halberstadt and Laetitia Masson) focuses on lightness and manages to bring that out in the humour throughout the film. Making for entertainment whether you have or haven’t seen the film. When watching the film I knew nothing about it going in, and hadn’t seen Breathless. While for those who have seen the film there may be an amusing insight, particularly when it comes to famous shots and sequences, those unaware of the film won’t find themselves shut out. Even with all the shots and elements the film tries to cover, which eventually cause it to feel a little on the long side.

Yet, with the humorous angle that the screenwriters and director Richard Linklater create, alongside the cast, there’s an easily disarming tone to the whole thing. One that welcomes all viewers in, establishing early on a film that works well with an audience, for a likable and smoothly entertaining time. Simply watching the production unfold, and it manages to make something out of that without feeling thinly spread. Bringing you in to the filmmaking process, not overly trying to look into Godard’s mind or methods and instead placing us in the shoes of everyone around him as a much-loved slice of French New Wave is pieced together before, and in some ways, with them and the audience. And somehow, like with Breathless, Nouvelle Vague manages to pull it off.

A consistently amusing look at the improvised production of Breathless, there’s no pretentiousness about Nouvelle Vague as it creates a humorous and entertaining time for both those aware and unaware of the film. It’s a real pleasant surprise, The Disaster Artist but with knowledge and love that the film turns out a classic of its kind.

Release Date – 23rd January 2026, Cert – 15, Run-time – 2 hours 8 minutes, Director – Oliver Hermanus

World War I, two music students (Paul Mescal, Josh O’Connor) find their relationship defined by folk music they share and archive, even as the war and years separates them.

The History Of Sound isn’t an 8am film. Especially 8am in the final two days of a film festival. It’s a film that certainly needs time and attention as it itself takes its time with slow pacing, charting the years that pass by – and the distance that increases – between main character Lionel (Paul Mescal) and lover David (Josh O’Connor). The pair’s relationship starts as music students at university, leading them to recording and archiving folk music across America before the war leads to multiple separations between them over the passing years.

Mescal and O’Connor are fantastic together. Gently commanding each scene they appear in together. A musical introduction at a bar piano sets off a sensual bond formed through song. While the opening stages, and indeed marketing, may place this as a two-hander between the pair it’s undoubtedly led by Mescal with O’Connor really not being in this as much as you might expect. It’s his character’s life that we hear of having changed over the years while we actually see that of Lionel’s playing out.

The film’s basis, and depiction of music in the lives of the characters, is summed up rather nicely in the closing stages. Chris Cooper briefly crops up to tell us about “stories with sadness so great they return to songs.” There’s a feeling of melancholy throughout the film which is almost rounded off with this phrase, a reflective sadness from Mescal’s Lionel as he seems to look back on his life, constantly thinking about David, and the music that brought them together in the first place. There’s a clear sadness pushed in the folk music we hear throughout, emphasising the slow and reflective nature of the film. As if something has been lost even before the relationship has started.

That feeling of loss carries over once the pair are distance by the war, however that also comes in the form of losing O’Connor’s presence for good chunks of time. The film is at its best when he and Mescal share the screen, creating an engaging style and intimacy in the conversations their characters have. It means that there’s more interest in their bond together than when largely focusing on one – despite the continued strength of the respective performances, particularly Mescal who acts as lead with O’Connor very much being support.

Particularly when distanced Lionel’s longing emphasises the slow pacing that runs throughout the just over two-hour run-time. The knock-on effect of everything coming together is a slightly overlong feeling to the film with just how slow it is, and especially the strongest elements being somewhat far apart (even if intentionally so). It just makes us, like the central character, wish for O’Connor’s return, largely for that added spark that helps see things through.

While Mescal and O’Connor are both on great form in The Sound Of History it’s particularly when sharing the screen together, when distanced the slightly-too-slow pacing is highlighted and while watchable there feels something missing to really maintain full engagement.

Release Date – 23rd January 2026, Cert – 15, Run-time – 2 hours 19 minutes, Director – Park Chan-wook

Man-su (Lee Byung-hun) is made redundant from his years-long, high-paying job, losing his and his family’s life of luxury. To get a new job, and reclaim that life, he desperately seeks to eliminate the competition.

“Losing your job isn’t the problem. The problem is how you deal with it.” Man-su (Lee Byung-hun) chooses to deal with the loss of his well-paying job of 25 years, leading a small team at a paper company’s factory, by getting out there and getting a new job. However, despite interviews in his former industry, he only finds jobs that just help him and his family to scrape by. Thus, when a job much like his former position comes up he sets out to research the competition and eliminate them as best he can.

It’s not quite the case that the dark comedy in Park Chan-wook’s latest is truly dark, and more that the film as a whole is a very dark affair. Properly finding its flow as this tone settles in with callbacks to Michael Palin in A Fish Called Wanda as Man-su takes it upon himself to off his fellow candidates, starting with those who post the biggest threat to his chances of employment. Yet, unlike Palin’s Ken, Lee’s character is guided largely by dead-pan fear, which itself stems from a sense of greed. After having cancelled dance lessons and tennis sessions, given away the family dogs and moved to a smaller place (without a Netflix subscription!) Man-su is desperate to get him and his family back to the life they once lived.

Lee delivers a strong performance with much veiled behind his straight-faced expression. Park brings about a similar tone to the way in which he views the film, looking on the events seriously and bringing out the sinister edges of the central character’s desperation as it becomes more deadly. Bringing out a good handful of chuckles along the way, especially once past the wealthy lifestyle set-up. It’s the attempt at planning, and stages and struggles of execution, where the film feels most clear and has the best flow. Perhaps why also the ending feels somewhat drawn-out – although the film as a whole generally gets through it’s 139-minute run-time with relative ease thanks to the focus that it develops in the twisted job hunt at hand.

The serious way in which writer-director Park looks at these events is maintained throughout and adds to the layer of commentary present in the social satire that constructs much of what we see. As things go on the familiar idea of machine-working comes into play, although within the much more present modern context and links to AI. It’s worked into brief looks at the wider workforce, also impacted by the layoffs that Man-su is subject to, but not touched upon by his perspective. Pushing the idea of greed, and malice alongside it, that seems to motivate his actions more than anything else – next to the pressure from his family.

A dark comedy with emphasis on the darkness in its satire, No Other Choice leans best as Lee Byung-hun’s brilliant dead-pan performance fractures amongst the desperate Fish Called Wanda antics where the film feels most direct and solid.

Release Date – 5th December 2025, Cert – 12, Run-time – 1 hour 44 minutes, Director – Jafar Panahi

A group of former prisoners believe they’ve kidnapped the man who tortured them whilst imprisoned, but is it the right person and what should they do with him?

Perhaps because of largely only seeing much of Jafar Panahi’s output post-house arrest and ban on filmmaking from the Iranian government I wasn’t quite prepared for the farcical tones of It Was Just An Accident. Each character is frantic in their growing lack of uncertainty as to whether the man that they have kidnapped, a face that tortured them whilst in prison, is who they believe him to be. The more people we see in the contained ensemble, and the more places we find them in, the more moral questions grow as to what the characters are doing in their possible revenge.

Yet, amongst the patches of humour which crop up here and there the overhanging threat is clear. Both in regards to possible consequences and, again, the moral questions raised by the characters and the film. It brings a consistency to the film while the various stages can be seen as Vahid (Vahid Mobasseri), the man who first sees the suspected Eghbal (Ebrahim Azizi), travels to the different faces who also faced torture in prison.

The set-up takes a quick turn as we initially follow Eghbal after taking his car to Vahid to be fixed, having hit a dog whilst driving at night. From here, and the shift to Vahid’s kidnapping and attempt to bury the unconscious driver in the open desert, the film’s title takes on multiple meanings and perspectives. It’s something that writer-director Panahi keeps as much intense focus on as his camera, steadily and observantly following each interaction and development amongst the questions which some characters are doing a better job of holding back than others – as if some are just looking for an excuse to let out their long-held-in pain and rage in whatever way gives a good enough excuse.

The phrase “you killed me a hundred times, have you forgotten?” echoes long after its asked. Accidents and excuses are looked into in subtle detail as the narrative naturally unfolds, even if the stages are noticeable. Much of this comes through in the dialogue and the often crammed-in nature of conversations. Whether through not wanting to be overheard – rushing out of a wedding photo session proves to be particularly amusing – or being crammed into the back of a van, with the body in a box acting as a seat. Panahi and his camera are quietly analytical of the characters in the film and the things they say, and try to hide. Making for an intriguing, unexpectedly farcical drama.

An analytical drama with enjoyable moments of farce which provide a flow to the clear stages of the narrative, It Was Just An Accident looks into the multiple meanings and perspectives of the title with ease and detail towards the moral questions at hand.

Release Date – 16th January 2025, Cert – 15, Run-time – 1 hour 29 minutes, Director – Kaouther Ben Hania

52 miles from Gaza, a group of call centre volunteers try to get an ambulance to a 6-year-old trapped in a car surrounded by IDF soldiers. Navigating an endless process of requests and approvals.

“This dramatisation is based on real events, and emergency calls recorded that day… The voices on the phone are real.” As the volunteers at a Red Crescent call centre 52 miles from Gaza talk to 6-year-old Hind Rajab, it feels as if they’re actually talking to a child. Perhaps because, in some ways, they are. There’s a shaking sense of false calmness to their voices as they try to keep the child, and in some ways themselves, calm whilst trapped in a car waiting for an ambulance to be given permission to reach the area.

Calls have been re-routed from the strip after communications there have been destroyed in mass bombings. All the action is contained within the call centre, our minds create images that fit right in alongside the fears we hold there, too. Although, after someone manages to find a picture, we see an image of Hind’s face, smiling, before the war (the events the film recreates happened in January 2024). Terrifying rumbles and gunshots in the background of Hind’s call are paired with the peaks and dips of the audio wave recording; like looking at a heart-rate monitor with the growing worry of seeing a straight line, although in this case without a constant beep.

The route to get permission for an ambulance is endless with constant delays in communication with the relevant parties. On many occasions it seems as if it’s too late, with the volunteers struggling to hold back their tears of fear and worry. Motaz Malhees and Saja Kilani who we hear the most from give powerhouse performances overflowing with emotion, the kind that should be in the Lead Actor and Actress Oscar conversation! It’s through the performances of the small ensemble that much of the emotion of the film is conveyed, and exerted.

Yet, the tension continues to be ramped up as the hours go on and darkness starts to descend. Progress doesn’t feel like progress when there are so many hoops to be signed off before they can be jumped through. A moment of guided meditation is for the audience as much as it is those on-screen. It allows us to escape the glaring lights of the darkened call centre just for a moment and see some gentle sunlight. A glimmer of peace and hope, even if just to cling to to calm our minds amongst the tragedy at hand. A more prolonged moment compared to the very light, brief moments of natural, conversational humour more confined to the early stages before the intensity of the situation truly spreads and the gunfire appears to get closer to the other side of the phone, or the call is hung up.

I can imagine that few screenings of The Voice Of Hind Rajab will be met with sound. When I saw it it was one of the few films where people have sat through the credits in silence. Even those who shuffled out during them seemed to do so slowly, quietly and with their heads slightly down, and in this case not in their phones. In some ways it’s a very communal experience, as it is for those on screen. Although in this case one of helplessness, distance and tense fear. I went in not knowing the outcome of the events, but I believe had I gone in knowing there would have still been as much emotion, suspense and tragedy to be experienced. Because, the film is about the inhumanity raging against the attempts to keep the 6-year-old trapped in the car safe, and that leads her to be there in the first place.

An emotionally devastating experience, The Voice Of Hind Rajab is a magnificently performed work where all involved give everything they can to create a tense, fearful depiction of desperation in the wake of tragedy and inhumanity.