Olly Alexander

Solid acting and adept filmmaking help make up for the fact that this film asks us to spend a couple of hours in the presence of a group of truly despicable characters. They're played by some of the brightest (and most beautiful) rising stars in the movies at the moment, but each one of these young men is vile to the core. So the fact that these are supposed to be Britain's brightest and best hope for the future makes the film pretty terrifying.

It's set at Oxford University, where the elite Riot Club (including Douglas Booth, Sam Reid, Freddie Fox, Matthew Beard, Ben Schnetzer and Olly Alexander) are on the lookout for wealthy white students to complete their 10-man membership. They find suitable candidates in new arrivals: the sneering Alistair (Sam Claflin) and conflicted Miles (Max Irons), whose one drawback is that he's seeing a common girl (Holliday Grainger). After the rigorous initiation process, Alistair and Miles are welcomed to the hedonistic gang at a lavish dinner in the private room of a country pub. But things turn nasty as they drunkenly hurl abuse at the pub manager (Gordon Brown), his daughter (Jessica Brown Findlay) and a high-class hooker (Natalie Dormer) they hire for the night.

Based on the play Posh by screenwriter Laura Wade, the film is centred around this increasingly chaotic dinner party. Although nothing that happens is particularly surprising, because these young men are such relentlessly bigoted, misogynist snobs that it's impossible to believe they belong anywhere other than prison. They certainly don't deserve their self-appointed status as the top students at Oxford, who are getting debauchery out of their systems before taking the lead in British politics and business. But then, that's precisely Wade's point, and she makes it loudly. Thankfully, director Lone Scherfig balances things by offering glimpses into these young men's dark souls while skilfully capturing the old-world subculture and a strong sense of irony.

Continue reading: The Riot Club Review

With bouncy pop tunes and a breezy tone, this Scottish musical sometimes feels so weightless that it seems to float right out of existence. At other times it's startlingly dark and moving, touching on earthy emotions and important themes. The tonal shifts may be rather jarring, but the film as a whole is a joy to watch, especially as it makes some pointed comments on both mental illness and nature of artistic creation.

Set in Glasgow, the story centres on Eve (Emily Browning), who is so obsessed with composing music that she's being treated in a mental hospital. After she escapes she meets James (Olly Alexander), a young singer-guitarist who is a bit unnerved when she follows him home, worms her way into his life and spurs him to start a band with music student Cassie (Hannah Murray). James falls for Eve, but she's clearly only interested in being friends, especially since she has a crush on cool bad-boy Anton (Pierre Boulanger), the lead singer of a rival band. And even Cassie seems out of reach, since she flirts with every man she meets. But neither James nor Cassie knows the truth about Eve's mental state.

Writer-director Stuart Murdoch is the lead singer of the Glasgow band Belle and Sebastian, and the film is peppered with songs written for their album but sung live on-camera by the cast members. As a filmmaker, Murdoch has a remarkably light touch, as well as a gift for weaving the music right into the fabric of the movie. This is certainly not the usual rom-com: the characters have unsuspected depth that's beautifully tapped by the sharp young cast members. The bravely immersive Browning and charming Alexander are a terrific double-act, with very different musical styles that gel together cleverly - think Ellie Goulding and Ed Sheeran. And the addition of Murray's lively Cassie to the equation adds a superb dynamic.

Continue reading: God Help The Girl Review

Like a 20-years-later sequel to Before Midnight, this sharply observant comedy-drama follows a couple through a soul-searching weekend in which they evaluate their relationship with real wit and emotion. And transparent performances make it something to savour, as it offers us a rare grown-up movie about real issues we can identify with.

As the title suggests, the weekend in question takes place in France, and it's a 30th anniversary treat for Nick and Meg (Broadbent and Duncan). They can't really afford a trip to Paris, especially after ditching their dodgy pre-booked hotel in lieu of something far nicer, but they figure out ways to make their time special. Meanwhile, they talk about their years together, and the hopes and regrets that are haunting their thoughts. There are some hard questions to ask about their future, even as they haven't lost that spark of sexuality. Then they run into Nick's old Cambridge pal Morgan (Goldblum), who invites them to a party where they meet academics and artists just like them. Which only makes them think even more.

The key issues for them include Nick's early retirement (for an ill-timed comment to a student) and Meg's desire to change her life completely. As they consider the options, their conversations drive the film forward forcefully, flowing through cycles of flirtation and laughter to bitterness and cruelty. The depth of their love is never in doubt, even as they wonder how secure their relationship actually is. Broadbent and Duncan play these scenes effortlessly, taking our breath away because it's all so honest, often both funny and scary at the same time.

Continue reading: Le Week-end Review