Ian Freer

Bold, brutal yet surprisingly sensitive, it’s about as far away from Errol Flynn’s Technicolor tights or Kevin Costner’s mullet as you can imagine.

Another catchy Valentine to the transcendent properties of music, Power Ballad is perhaps a little more grounded than your average John Carney playlist. Full of native wit, warmth and generosity: play it on repeat.

The timelines fuzzy (it’s difficult to discern when she actually left movies behind) and other personal details are scant, but what shines through is the obvious affection between interviewer and subject. It’s a rapport that engenders an engrossing, conversational tribute to a mostly unsung great.

Parts of Outcome work a treat (see: Martin Scorsese). Shame, then, that long stretches give in to blunt parody, leaving the feeling there’s a much better movie in here somewhere.

Closer to the gentle humanism of Paterson than Jarmusch’s cooler, ironic output, Father Mother Sister Brother is a small-scale and singular treat.

So intense you’ll want to scarper but so riveting you can’t leave, Sirāt is an assault on the senses, mind and emotions. If only all movies took swings this bold.

It might lack the edge of Godard’s own movies but this courses with love for cinema, creativity, youth, Paris and ’60s cool. Film history is rarely this charming.

It huffs and puffs to entertain but Five Nights At Freddy’s 2 falls flat on most levels. Animatronic chickens wreaking havoc should be much more fun.

Clint Bentley’s Train Dreams is a peach of a picture. At once miniaturist yet epic, it’s an exquisite film that touches on every human emotion – agony, ecstasy, discovery, surprise, togetherness, loneliness – without contrivance or strain.

A powerful story about father and sons, told by a father and son. At once a showcase for a monumental talent, and the arrival of an exciting new one.