Parky at the Pictures (In Cinemas 2/8/2018)

While walking home from school in the Sicilian town of Troina, 13 year-old Luna (Julia Jedlikowska) notices classmate Giuseppe (Gaetano Fernandez) wandering off into the woods. She peers through the branches to see him communing with a butterfly and gets a shock when a ferret sniffs at her heels. Following him to a clearing, she finds Giuseppe hiding behind a tree and he grabs at the letter that she has written to him. Nervous at how he might react to the feelings she has tried to describe, Luna strides off alone. But her path is blocked by a snarling dog feasting on a rabbit and, having scratched her cheek in fleeing, she is grateful when Giuseppe arrives to chase it away. 

He takes her for a ride on the moped that his grandfather has bought him and she confides that her mother has told her to stay away from him. However, she delights in watching Giuseppe ride his horse around the parched paddock in the hills and blushes when he rewards her for handing over the letter with a kiss. While he stables his horse, Luna wanders around the enclosure and fails to see the flashing blue light of a police car behind her. Consequently, she is perplexed when she realises that Giuseppe has disappeared and she is relieved when her father (Vincenzo Amato) finds her wandering on a country road as dusk falls. 

Over supper, Luna is scolded by her strict Swiss mother, Saveria (Sabine Timoteo), who reminds her that she should stay away from Giuseppe because of his family connections. Saveria tuts at the drawings that Luna has made of her `knight' and slaps her face when she snaps at her mother for blaming her for her disappointing life. Alone in her room, Luna uses a torch to signal to best friend Loredana (Corinne Musallari) about the encounter with Giuseppe exceeding her wildest dreams. But she becomes concerned when he fails to come to school the next day and confides in Loredana that she suspects something weird has happened. 

The discovery of an owl in the basement scarcely proves reassuring and, dismayed by the refusal of Giuseppe's mother (Chiara Muscato) to answer the door and her teacher's reluctance to admit that anything is wrong after 17 days, Luna returns to the woods to retrieve the haversack that Giuseppe had thrown at the snarling dog. She picks up some books and the pieces of a chewed action figure and imagines Giuseppe is leaning against a tree with a wry smile on his face because she alone has managed to find him. But, as the wind whips up, Luna thinks she can hear the dog growling and staggers back in bemusement at what she's experiencing. 

Despite having been ordered to stay away from the house by Giuseppe's grandfather (Antonio Prester), Luna returns when he is preoccupied and sneaks in through the garage door. She sees the boy's mother sobbing quietly in the kitchen and slips past her to find Giuseppe's bedroom. As Luna looks at a photograph of him in his riding gear, she thinks back to their trip to the paddock and, this time, she turns round to see the cars drive away with Giuseppe in the backseat. 

The focus switches to the boy, who is reassured by the occupants of the vehicle that he is being taken to see his father, who has been away from home for some time. In fact, he is hooded and chained and locked in a room in a half-finished house in the hills after being forced to pose for a Polaroid with a dated newspaper. The image is placed inside an envelope that is delivered to Giuseppe's grandfather. He is carrying it when he finds Luna asleep on his grandson's bed. But, when he shakes her by the shoulder, Luna wakes to find she's in her own bed and that her father has roused her from what is now becoming a familiar nightmare. 

Inspired by the broken Dragon Ball Z figure, Luna and Loredana dye their hair blue and hand out leaflets in town about Giuseppe's disappearance. They are greeted with a mix of astonishment, disgust and trepidation. But Saveria is furious with Luna for devoting more time to a stranger than to her studies. However, Luna responds that she can't stop thinking about Giuseppe and feels her life has become meaningless without him. Such is her devotion to his memory that when a short-sighted kids sits in his desk in class, Luna orders him to move and Loredana stands beside her when she punches him  in the face. 

Unable to rely on her diabetic dad for support, Luna is forced to shave her head and she is touched when she sees Loredana standing on her balcony to cut off her own long tresses. She sits in her room and recalls the letter she had written to Giuseppe, as he reads it by the chink of light shining into his cell. Although she merely chatters away like a lovesick teenager, her words become increasingly special to Giuseppe, who is becoming more aware with each passing day that his family has abandoned him to his fate. 

When the sinister U'Nanu (Filippo Luna) brings him food and some pornography to help pass the time, he orders him to write to his grandfather informing him that he is being treated well, but that his captors are losing patience. Giuseppe refuses to co-operate and uses the paper to write to Luna. He wishes he could cry because he is afraid and the chains are cutting into his shins. But he refuses to show weakness in front of his jailers. 

Time passes and Luna's hair grows back. She also passes her exams and she goes with her father on a fishing trip to the nearby lake after they deliver some blue containers to a marble mine. He is proud of the way she had regained control of her emotions and they delight in throwing away the food Saveria has carefully cooked for them and scarf junk food that is bad for his condition. As he settles down for a nap, Luna wanders to the jetty to fish. She thinks she sees Giuseppe's mother on the opposite banks and wades into the water towards her. Running through the woods, Luna finds a jerry-built house in a clearing and wanders inside.

She sees an obese couple fornicating in the kitchen and follows some steps into the basement. They take her underwater and she reaches out to Giuseppe, who is also fully submerged in the murky water. But, as their fingers touch, Luna is yanked back into reality, as her father reaches her some distance out into the lake and he drags her back to the shore. Giuseppe seems to sense where she is and imagines himself following his horse to the water's edge to drink. As he looks at his reflection in the still surface, he sees Luna's face behind him and feels such a pang for her that he breaks the mirror and tries to attack his guard with the glass. However, he is held down and chained to the bed as punishment. 

Returning from hospital, Luna is pleased to see Loredana. She has started dating Calogero (Federico Finocchiaro) and wants Luna to meet his cousin, Nino (Andrea Falzone). However, she suspects that Saveria is making plans for her to go and stay with her uncle because she thinks a change of scenery will stop her from brooding. 

Ironically, Giuseppe is also being relocated and, after a brief stop off to let him smell the sea, he is deposited in the cellar of the blockhouse that Luna had seen in her dream. She is so sure that what she saw was real that she drags Loredana into the woods, with her new friends in tow. Much to her surprise, Nino takes her claims seriously when they find the stream abutting the house and she is moved when he reminds her that Sicily was once the playground of the gods and that the island might be best left to it animal rather than its human population. Even Calogero agrees they should go to the police when Luna recognises the pick-up truck she had seen parked outside. But Loredana is frightened for her and calls her parents, who come to collect her from the police station, with Saveria fighting back tears of terror that Luna's actions will have drastic repercussions. 

While they pack up ready to leave Sicily, Giuseppe has an out-of-body experience after soiling himself in the night and he looks on, radiant and naked, as his new minders haul him into the shower. Luna proves equally defiant, as she slips out of the house during the night and goes to the marble mine where she saw the white truck. Dodging the guard dog, she hides in a barrel on the back and is driven to the house in the woods. While two of the heavies chase the third (who has learning difficulties and is refusing to carry out his latest order), Luna nips inside and finds the remote control that operates the lift into the basement. She covers Giuseppe with her red duffel coat when he comes to the surface and they run out into the misty pre-dawn light. 

Aware they are being followed, the couple lay low in a rowing boat near the jetty. But Luna is exhausted and struggles to resist sleep, even though Giuseppe pleads with her to keep her eyes open. As she drops off, the minions enter Giuseppe's room and make him face the wall. He is strangled from behind and his body placed in a bath that is filled with the acid from the blue containers that are the same colour as the rat poison that Saveria had put down in the basement. Giuseppe's remains are dumped in the lake and they sink in slow motion, as Luna swallows several pellets and lies down in a curled ball.

The owl watching over Luna seemingly refuses to let her die, however. A torch message flashes out to Loredana, who comes to the window to see the owl sitting in the snow in the garden. Realising something is seriously wrong, Loredana rushes across town and wakes Luna's parents. She charges up to Luna's room and sees that she has covered the wall with a charcoal drawing of herself disappearing into the forest with Giuseppe. 

Pushing past a stunned Saveria, Loredana finds Luna on the basement floor. She thinks she sees Giuseppe holding her friend's hand, but is jolted out of her reveries, as Luna's father bundles his daughter into the car. As the story ends, Luna is gazing out to sea near an ancient ruin. She smiles, as what appears to be Giuseppe's spirit splashing in the surf, before she is knocked on to the sand in a boisterous group hug by Loredana, Calogero and Nino. Life appears to be going on. 

Strewn with references to mythology and fairytales (most notably to Little Red Riding Hood), yet very much rooted in sobering Sicilian reality, this is both a touching love story and a scathing indictment of the Code of Omerta that prevents people from speaking out about the Mafia. The latter comes across most tellingly in the sequences in which Luna and Loredana distribute their flyers and in which Saveria pleads with the police to forgive her mentally unbalanced daughter for making rash accusations. But Grassadonia and Piazza are more interested in the reckless innocence that drives Luna to meddle in things she doesn't understand and that prevents Giuseppe from recognising the price that has to be paid for the luxuries he takes for granted, like his moped and his horse. Very much babes in the woods, they cling to each other after being prised apart and the way in which they connect through their daydreams and nightmares is both harrowing and horrifying, as they are forced to suffer so much for their fleeting moments of contact. 

While editor Cristiano Travaglioli weaves the strands together with laudable dexterity, Grassadonia and Piazza are able to immerse the audience in the action, thanks to Luca Bigazzi's fluent camerawork (and masterly use of light, colour, angle and distortion), production designer Marco Dentici's astute contrasts between interiors and exteriors and the soundscapes devised by Cristiano Travaglioli and Francesco Di Stefano that are unsettlingly complements by the score composed by Anton Spielman and Soap&Skin. But this would be a very different film without the sincerity provided by the debuting duo of Julia Jedlikowska and Gaetano Fernandez, who ensure that Luna's smouldering sense of injustice and Giuseppe's growing appreciation of his plight avoid becoming melodramatic or mawkish.

A number of films have been made about the Virgin Mary's visitations to humble believers. The story of Lourdes has been told with varying degrees of devotional awe in Henry King's The Song of Bernadette (1943), Robert Darène's Bernadette of Lourdes (1961), Jean Delannoy's Bernadette (1988) and Jean Sagois's Je m'appelle Bernadette (2011), while the appearances at Fatima in Portugal have been revisited in John Brahm's The Miracle of Our Lady of Fatima (1952), Dominic and Ian Higgins's The 13th Day (2009) and Jorge Paixão da Costa's Jacinta (2017). Similar films have been made about Medjugorje (Jakov Sedlar's Gospa, 1995) and Garabandal (Brian Alexander Jackson's Garabandal: Only God Knows, 2018). But, while these are primarily films aimed at the faithful, Xavier Giannoli takes a more sceptical approach in The Apparition. 

Struggling to come to terms with the loss of his photographer buddy in a Middle Eastern war zone, French journalist Vincent Lindon hides away at home between appointments to determine the cause of the ringing in his ears. His wife becomes concerned when he covers the windows with cardboard and is somewhat relieved when he accepts an invitation to the Vatican from Monsignor Joël Demarty to investigate the claim that 18 year-old Galatéa Bellugi has seen the Virgin Mary in the south-eastern region of Carbarat. 

As a non-believer, Lindon isn't sure he's the right man for the job. But he's taken to the archives, where he sees images of the disputed visions at Garabandal and Jacqueline Aubry's authenticated experiences at L'Île-Bouchard. Demarty is concerned because parish priest Patrick d'Assumçao has gone rogue in handling the case and is welcoming pilgrims and even talking about building a church. Moreover, he is refusing to hand over a bloodstained cloth that the Vatican is keen to examine to ascertain whether it is a genuine relic.

Having done plenty of background reading into Marian apparitions, Lindon travels south by bus and is struck by the piety of his fellow passengers. He is whisked away from the busy town centre by Candice Bouchet, who introduces him to priests Bruno Georis and Claude Lévèque, psychiatrist Elina Löwensohn and theologian Gérard Dessalles, who are based in an office on the outskirts. They explain that they have been involved in previous investigations, including Medjugorje, and Lindon becomes aware of the hostility towards doubters like Dessalles when he sees him being ejected from a service at which D'Assumçao presents Bellugi to a congregation of pilgrims. She notices Lindon, as she welcomes those who believe in her story, and agrees to meet with him, even though D'Assumçao is worried that she will be subjected to an interrogation. 

Swearing on the Bible, Bellugi describes her background in foster care after the death of her grandmother and the decision to become a novice at the local convent after she had her visions. Lindon asks her to describe the first encounter when she was 15 years old and she calmly recalls how she had been walking when she saw a soft light glowing in front of her and a woman in a white dress and blue veil had told her to minister to the poor and suffering and build a house for her son. She had told no one about the incident for a month before confiding in D'Assumçao, who had dismissed her claim as an instance of sinful pride. After the second apparition, however, he had changed his mind. 

At the end of the session, Bellugi assures Lindon that she is telling the truth and she returns to her duties at the convent, where she rings the bell before services and helps the other nuns make feather duvets. Lindon joins the pilgrims at the site of the first appearance and checks out some of the merchandise being sold at the stalls that have sprung up around the town. He is particularly unimpressed by a snow globe, but he continues to keep an open mind, as he discusses the possibility of the police confiscating the bloodied cloth for analysis. Meanwhile, Bellugi endures an uncomfortable interview with earnest American Catholic Anatole Taubman and it's clear that she is a simple girl with little understanding of the theological complexities surrounding her claim and only a vague appreciation that others are seeking to exploit her experiences for their own aggrandisement and gain. 

As Bellugi looks up Lindon online, he goes to see her former foster mother, Marie Agnès Brigot, and she insists that, having looked after her for eight years, she is certain that  Bellugi is not lying. Meanwhile, Taubman shows D'Assumçao his plans for a basilica and sympathises with him for being made to feel like a fraud by the Catholic hierarchy. After Löwensohn conducts a series of physical and psychological tests, Lindon meets with two men who heard Bellugi scream with terror during the second manifestation. Dessalles dismisses this as play-acting and suggests that Bellugi is mentally unstable. But Löwensohn avers that there is nothing to support such an accusation. 

Having been moved by D'Assumçao's sermon about people needing to reconnect with each other, Lindon is pleased that Bellugi smiles at him and informs him that she has looked him up on the Internet. She continues to keep her secrets, however, and Sister Marie-Hélène Aubert smuggles her out of the convent in an unmarked white van and drops her off near a small chapel in the hills before the hoodied Bellugi passes unnoticed in the shopping precinct. Casual worker Gervais Dimwana takes her to the staffroom and hands her a letter from Alicia Hava, which Bellugi reads without emotion and stores with several others on the top shelf of his locker. She asks if he has made up with the boy he punched and Dimawana promises to do so before wrapping Bellugi in a bear hug. 

That night, Bellugi phones Lindon to tell him that she thinks he is different to the others. However, she refuses to answer when he asks why she screamed and he turns his attention to D'Assumçao and Taubman. The former has an exemplary record as a missionary priest and few have reason to doubt that he is acting sincerely in trying to protect Bellugi. But Löwensohn, Lévèque, Georis and Dessalles are less convinced by Taubman, who is doing nicely out of promoting Bellugi through his communications network. Indeed, Löwensohn reckons that there is a consensus among those cashing in on the case that it should remain a mystery for as long as possible. 

Tracking down foster home counsellor Aurore Broutin, Lindon asks about Bellugi's friends and is given a long list to contact. He is particularly curious about Hava and visits her foster parents, Pascal Martin Granel and Isabelle Anciaux, who tell him about her romance with ex-Russian soldier Bogdan Zamfir and her work as a prison visitor. As he leaves the bedroom, Lindon notices the Icon of Kazan, which he recognises from the gouged-out eyes that his dead friend had once photographed during one of their assignments. He mentions this during a Skype conversation with wife Natalia Dontcheva, who is worried about his mental state and is becoming frustrated at having to cover for him with his editor because his trip to Carbarat is supposedly confidential. 

During dinner, Lindon gets a call from Bellugi and she comes to his lodgings. She insists that she feels no pressure being a celestial messenger and reassures him that D'Assumçao has never been anything but protective. He asks why she screamed on the hillside, but she denies doing so. Yet she falls to her knees and pleads with Lindon to prevent the bloodstained cloth being examined because she is afraid of the consequences. She endures several days of torment at the convent, while Lindon tries to find out more about the prisoner Hava visited. He discovers that he was jailed for killing the Algerian woman who had given birth to his daughter and wonders if she was Hava's mother. 

Bellugi receives another letter from Hava, who is living in Jordan with Zamfir and their baby. She invites Lindon to the bricked-up chapel in the hills and they walk through the woods. When he suffers a tinnitus attack, Bellugi cradles his head and promises him that everything will be okay. However, she is distraught when the police confiscate the relic and D'Assumçao and Taubman look on with grave concern. The latter insists that they have to keep the faith, as the Vatican are notoriously slow to follow when the faithful lead. But D'Assumçao is convinced that the commission has poisoned Bellugi's mind and is hurt when she refuses to speak to him.

Meanwhile, Lindon visits Hava's father (Hervé Cousin) in prison and returns to inform his colleagues that their canonical quest is linked to a murder case. Dessalles reminds him that he is supposed to be investigating the spiritual not the temporal, but Lindon is certain that he is on the right track. He receives a call from Bellugi the day before she appears at a major service and is puzzled when she refers to martyrdom. However, after several days without food, Bellugi is weak and she faints as she enters the chapel. Lindon rushes to her side and D'Assumçao is appalled when Bellugi kisses his hands. When they are alone together, Lindon tells D'Assumçao that he's dangerous and the priest responds by accusing Lindon of being empty. 

While Bellugi is examined by doctors, Lindon and Löwensohn meet the forensics expert who has been examining the relic. He informs them that the blood type is AB+, which is the same as that found on the Turin Shroud, the Holy Tunic of Argenteuil and the Shroud of Oviedo. This sends Lindon online and he discovers that Taubman is also AB+ and realises that he is perpetrating a scam to dupe the gullible into parting with their cash. He calls Löwensohn to confide his suspicions. But there is panic at the convent, as Bellugi disappears and, as she staggers through the countryside in the half light, Lindon goes to the shopping mall, where Dimwana hands him an envelope containing Hava's letters. 

A mountain rescue helicopter whisks Bellugi to the nearest hospital, but she dies as the medical team attempt to bring her round. Feathers fall from the ceiling of the convent chapel and Lindon seeks out D'Assumçao. He regrets allowing Taubman to lead him astray and admits to not knowing for sure if Bellugi was genuine or not. Having sent his findings to Demarty and thanked him for introducing him to the world of souls that he had previously ignored, Lindon travels to Jordan to find Hava. 

She is an aid worker at a refugee camp and is disconsolate to learn that Bellugi has died. But she admits that she saw the Virgin and was too afraid to carry the burden. So, as she wanted to have a baby rather than become a symbol of hope, Bellugi offered to take her place and claim that she was the visionary. Lindon also learns from Zamfir that the Icon of Kazan belongs to a monastery in Syria and that he remembers the picture being taken and being struck by the calm courage of the photographer. Feeling it's his duty to return the icon to its home, Lindon ventures into Syria and, on finding the monastery in ruins and the chapel door padlocked, he wraps the painting in a cloth and leaves it on the step with a stone to weigh it down. 

Despite starting in much the same vein as Jessica Hausner's Lourdes and Bruno Dumont's Hadewijch (both 2009), this involving thriller, if increasingly specious thriller eventually drifts into the territory occupied by Ron Howard's Dan Brown trilogy of The Da Vinci Code (2006), Angels & Demons (2009) and Inferno (2016). Xiannoli and fellow scribes Jacques Fieschi and Marcia Romano get in plenty of digs about the avaricious cynicism of a church that picks the pockets of the faithful, as it has continued to do since the pre-Reformation days of relics and indulgences. Moreover, with the shot of the chopper flying over the Marian statue, they also slip in a sly reference to Federico Fellini's La dolce vita (1960), which also featured a supposedly miraculous sighting. But they seem utterly disinterested in the role that religion plays in modern France or the extent to which social media can shape opinion and establish a siege mentality against the forces of secularism.

Xavier is best known in this country for The Singer (2006) and Marguerite (2015), which each explores the motivation for perpetuating a myth. But this saga is closer in spirit to the lesser-seen In the Beginning (2009) and Superstar (2012), which respectively focus on a conman who passes himself off as the boss of a construction site and an ordinary bloke who wakes one morning to discover he has become famous for no apparent reason. It similarly makes little sense that the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith would select a war correspondent to undertake such a sensitive mission. But, such is Lindon's gravelly gravitas that it's impossible not to be carried along by his curiosity and commitment. Galatéa Bellugi's intensity proves equally beguiling. But D'Assumçao and Taubman are asked to play censurable ciphers with no redeeming features. Thus, for all the polish of Eric Gautier's cinematography and authenticity of Riton Dupire-Clément's interiors, this never quite rings true, as Xiannoli is more preoccupied with keeping his procedural plot on the rails than he is with the deeper themes it throws up.

As the king of the jobbing actors, John Hurt found himself in numerous movies that were unworthy of his prodigious talent. Sadly, his final credit proves to be one of his least distinguished, as Daniel Zelik Berk's espionage thriller, Damascus Cover, lacks the intricacy, suspense or spectacle to compete with similar genre outings. 

Despite the odd nod in the direction of James Bond and Jason Bourne, Berk cleaves more closely to the kind of low-key spy saga that had its heyday in the 1960s. Consequently, this updating of Howard Kaplan's 1977 novel owes much to the likes of Michael Anderson's The Quiller Memorandum, Raoul Lévy's The Defector (both 1966) and Sidney Lumet's The Deadly Affair (1977), as well as higher-profile offerings like Martin Ritt's take on John Le Carré's The Spy Who Came in From the Cold (1965) and the trio of Len Deighton adaptations that saw Michael Caine excel as the languidly urbane Harry Palmer. 

As a Mossad agent, Ari Ben-Sion (Jonathan Rhys Meyers) has been posing as German Hans Hoffmann in order to track down Ehud (Herzl Tobey), who has been passing secrets to the Syrians. On 9 November 1989, Ari and partner Shaul (Aki Avni) ambush Ehud in his hotel. But the snatch goes wrong and Ari has to kill the target and explain why to his handler, Miki (John Hurt). Having passed a psychological examination to determine whether he is fit for duty - during which Ari reveals that he didn't acclimatise well after relocating from Germany as a boy and has struggled to cope since his wife left him after their son was killed in an accident - Ari rescues American photojournalist Kim Johnson (Olivia Thirlby) from some Orthodox Jews who were taking violent exception to having their pictures taken on the Sabbath. 

Shortly afterwards, Miki sends him to Damascus to befriend Franz Ludin (Jürgen Prochnow), a low-ranking Nazi who is negotiating with the Syrians to export carpets to Europe. His maid, Rachel (Shani Aviv), is related to a leading chemical weapons scientist whose repatriation is considered a matter of some urgency and Ari is required to discover his whereabouts and delivery him safely. By pure coincidence, Ari runs into Kim at the Sheraton and they kiss after dining together and witnessing an abduction in a trendy bar. 

Having stolen Ludin's wallet during a stroll by the Jewish Quarter, Ari wangles an invitation to his house and meets fellow Nazi sympathisers Ludwig Streicher (Wolf Kahler) and Heinrich Wolf (Hartmut Volle). He is also introduced to Suleiman Sarraj (Navid Negahban), the head of the Mukhabarat secret service, whom we have already seen murder a captured Jewish agent in an effort to discover the identity of an undercover spy known as The Angel. While Sarraj smarmily extends his good wishes, Ludin's German friends are suspicious and Ari is thrown out when his host catches him kissing Rachel in the kitchen. As she went along with the pass to maintain Ari's cover, she comes to his hotel room, where he is giving her instructions about an escape bid when Kim enters and is nettled by him being alone with another woman. 

The next night, Ari patches things up with Kim and they wind up in bed after he overhears her calling her eight year-old on his birthday. His pillow talk is the story of how his own son accidentally shot himself with his gun while looking for a pump to blow up a football. They agree to meet again that evening and Ari gets her beloved father's watch repaired. But he is also beaten up in a back alley and Shaul confides in Miki that he is worried that he might be out of his depth, even though they have used him as bait by passing on information through corrupted agent Sabeen (Gem Carmella). Sarraj and Syrian general Fuad (Igal Naor) are not impressed by the revelations, but they go along with the trade of intelligence to see where it leads. 

Waking from his pummelling, Ari gets back to the Sheraton in time to see Kim being bundled into the back of a car and he follows to a compound in time to see her embrace Sarraj in a basement room. Needing reassurance, Ari makes contact with Sabri (Selva Rasalingam), who is a Mossad fixer who promises to get him out of the country. Ari thinks Sabri is The Angel and goes along with his plan because this will lead to Sarraj being toppled and the Assad regime being humiliated. 

Consequently, he returns to the hotel to sleep with Kim, even though he has Rachel on his conscience, as he has been unable to tip her off that her escape has been postponed. The next day, however, Ari loses his patience with Kim and pulls a gun on her to force her to go along with a plan to get him out of the Sheraton without Sarraj's goons stopping him. Several luckless Syrians are gunned down and Ari realises that Kim loves him when she shoots the last one to save his life. Setting off the fire alarm to create chaos, they slip away in Sabri's car and meet him at a border rendezvous. He is furious that Ari has brought Kim (whose real name is Salma), however, and wastes no time in killing her before vanishing into the night with Ari holding off the pursuing Syrian forces. 

It will come as no surprise to many to discover that Sabri is merely a front for the real double agent, who turns out to be Fuad. He is an old school soldier who has seen too many children perish and has forged a deal with Miki to help with prisoner exchanges whenever possible and keep fanatics like Sarraj from achieving power. Fighting back the tears, Ari clings to the watch belonging to Kim's father, who appears to have been an Arab who was brutalised by the Israelis, hence her desire for revenge. It's a spy novel cliché for emotion to prove the undoing of even the best female agent and it feels chauvinistically outdated for this to be the case here, despite the late 80s setting. But this is a minor concern compared to the other problems hamstringing this earnest, but flat-footed feature. 

Much of the trouble stems from the clumsy dialogue penned by Berk and co-scenarist Samantha Newton. But Kaplan's source plotline is equally specious, with its red herring references to unrepentant Nazis and chemical weapons. Moreover, it seems highly unlikely that an experienced agent like Ari would not be suspicious when a reporter he had met by chance shows up in Damascus and promptly tumbles into bed with him. The world weariness of old-timers Miki and Fuad also smacks of contrivance and will feel very familiar to fans of Oscar Homolka, who was Michael Caine's supposed nemesis in The Ipcress File (1965), Funeral in Berlin (1966) and Billion Dollar Brain (1967).

At least John Hurt and Igal Naor inhabit their characters. Resembling a younger version of Donald Sutherland, Jonathan Rhys Meyers looks very uncomfortable beneath his pompadoured quiff, as he channels all of his energy into sustaining the hybridic accent that is the only interesting thing about this dullard in a sharp suit. Proving little more animated, Olivia Thirlby betrays that she has something to hide on first acquaintance, while Jürgen Prochnow is utterly wasted in a pointless cameo. Cinematographer Chloë Thomson manages to impart a noirish feel to the Casablanca locations, but Martin Brinkler's editing is intrusively choppy during the action sequences, which are punctuated by the blarings of Harry Escott's formulaic score. However, it is nice to see a film in which people rely on landlines.

Following last year's successful reissue of Ismail Merchant and James Ivory's 1992 adaptation of EM Forster's Howards End, the BFI has dusted down the duo's 1987 take on the same author's unpublished novel, Maurice. Coming in the wake of Ivory's Oscar triumph for his reworking of André Aciman's bestseller for Luca Guadignino's Call Me By My Name (2017) and Rupert Everett's stellar turn as Oscar Wilde in The Happy Prince, this may not have the surprise factor that it had 31 years ago. But it shows, once again, that there is much more to Merchant Ivory than the undeserved `chocolate box' reputation that was foisted on them by would-be critical iconoclasts reared on Star Wars and the Brat Pack. 

During a school trip to the seaside, 11 year-old Maurice Hall (Orlando Wells) receives an unexpected tutorial on the sacred mysteries of sexual congress from his teacher, Mr Ducie (Simon Callow), who takes pity on the fatherless boy and uses the point of his umbrella to draw diagrams that shock a respectable family out for an afternoon stroll. Any lesson learnt from this windswept encounter seems have been stored at the back of the brain, as Maurice (James Wilby) goes up to Cambridge to read Classics. He finds himself sharing tutorials with Dean Cornwallis (Barry Foster) with Viscount Risley (Mark Tandy), who teases him about his naiveté and slips his card into his jacket pocket by way of invitation. 

Embarrassed at being caught by his fellow students while practicing shaking hands in the cloisters, Maurice is disappointed to find Risley out when he calls. But he makes the acquaintance of  Clive Durham (Hugh Grant) and they soon begin spending time together, as they play the piano, punt and have play fights that culminate in Maurice wrapping Clive up in his bedsit rug. 

Taken aback by Cornwallis urging a classmate to avoid a passage in Plato that references `the unspeakable vice of the Greeks', Maurice feels exhilaration when Clive hugs him and climbs in through his window in the dead of night to plant an inexpert kiss. The pair are nearly caught in an embrace in Maurice's rooms and he is thrilled when Clive confesses to having feelings for him. They take a motorbike and sidecar into the country and spend an idyllic afternoon in the long grass. However, Clive spoils things by insisting that their romance remains platonic, as he has plans to go into politics and he doesn't want any scandal to haunt him in later life. 

Hurt by the suggestion that full intimacy would diminish them as human beings, Maurice accepts his friend's terms. But Cornwallis is appalled by Maurice's behaviour and he is sent down for refusing to apologise for missing a lecture and Mrs Hall (Billie Whitelaw) asks old family friend, Dr Barry (Denholm Elliott), to speak to Maurice when he accepts a position with a firm of City stockbrokers. He keeps in touch with Clive, however, and accepts an invitation to spend the weekend at his country estate, Pendersleigh Hall, where he meets his friend's mother (Judy Parfitt), sister Pippa (Catherine Rabett) and brother-in-law, Archie (Michael Jenn). However, he also comes under the scrutiny of Simcox the butler (Patrick Godfrey), who cycles past as they are embracing in a doorway. 

As Maurice grows a moustache and Clive completes his studies, the pair meet at dinner parties and concerts. But Clive is shaken when Risley is arrested for soliciting a soldier in a bar and (after refusing to give him a character reference) he hides his face when attending the trial that results in Risley receiving six months hard labour. Stressed by the experience, Clive faints at the graduation dinner that Mrs Hall throws in his honour with daughters Kitty (Kitty Aldridge) and Ada (Helena Michell). Maurice tries to make light of his distress, but Clive is keen to distance himself from the Risley affair and informs Maurice that their friendship must be placed on a new footing before leaving to recuperate in Greece.

Naturally, Maurice is overjoyed to see Clive on his return. But he is a changed man and makes it clear that he wants nothing more than companionship. When Maurice tries to kiss him, Clive pushes him away and barges past Kitty and Ada with a cut on his lower lip. In no mood to discuss matters with his sisters, Maurice throws himself into boxing at a club in Bermondsey. However, the sight of the naked bodies in the changing room prompts Maurice to confide in Dr Barry, who offers to put him in touch with Lasker-Jones (Ben Kingsley), who specialises in aversion therapy hypnosis. 

When Clive (who now has a moustache) announces that he is to marry Anne (Phoebe Nicholls), Maurice puts a brave face on things. He attends the wedding and joins a shooting party at Pendersleigh. Clive comes to his room to kiss his hand and hope that they can continue to be great friends. Returning to the country after his first session with Lasker-Jones, Maurice realises he has caught the eye of under-gamekeeper Alec Scudder (Rupert Graves), who brazenly chats with him in the grounds when Maurice goes for a postprandial cigarette. That night, Alec uses a ladder to climb in through Maurice's window and they spend a night of passion before Alec manages to slip away before Simcox brings the breakfast tray.

The two find themselves batting together during a cricket match, although Alec has to retire when Clive fancies a bat and promptly runs Maurice out. As he slumps into a deckchair on the boundary, Maurice is convinced that Alec is sniggering about him with one of the other servants and struts off in high dudgeon. Thus, when Alec proposes a meeting at the boathouse, Maurice convinces himself that he is trying to blackmail him to earn a nest egg before emigrating to Argentina with his brother. But Alec has genuine feelings and, on being stood up, he puts on his best suit and takes the train to London to find Maurice at his office. 

Having been advised by Lasker-Jones to emigrate to a more liberal country, Maurice is mortified when his colleagues see Alec in the foyer. So, he sweeps him away to the British Museum, where they bump into Ducie, who is visiting with his wife and two small children. Stung by his hypocrisy, Maurice pretends not to know him and throws caution to the wind in checking into a small hotel with Alec, who is due to set sail the following day. But, when Maurice arrives at the docks to wave him off, he is surprised to discover that Alec has missed the boat and he travels to Pendersleigh to make a clean breast to Clive. He beckons him into the garden at the end of dinner and Clive is nonplussed that Maurice would want to take such a massive risk with a servant. Yet, as Maurice falls into Alec's arms in the boathouse, Clive looks wistfully from his bedroom window, as the unsuspecting Anne rests her head on his shoulder. 

As one would expect of the doyens of heritage cinema, this is an exquisitely beautiful film. Cinematographer Pierre Lhomme captures makes atmospheric use of the changing light around King's and Trinity colleges in Cambridge, while also emphasising the restrictive nature of the studies and lodgings that gave the students precious little privacy. Ivory and production designer Brian Ackland-Snow make equally thoughtful use of the interiors and grounds of Wilbury Park in Wiltshire to reinforce the regimented codes of etiquette that governed everything in fin-de-siècle England from tutorials to strolls and dinner parties to cricket matches (and, yes, that is Helena Bonham Carter in an unbilled crinoline cameo in one of Jenny Beavan and John Bright's Oscar-nominated costumes). Thus, this feels firmly rooted in the social and sexual conventions of the prewar period when Forster first wrote his novel. 

He revised the manuscript in 1932 and it's noticeable how similar some of the early Maurice and Clive sequences are to those between Charles Ryder and Sebastian Flyte in Evelyn Waugh's Brideshead Revisited. It's uncertain whether Ivory and co-scenarist Kit Hesketh-Harvey actively sought to draw parallels with Charles Sturridge's acclaimed 1981 mini-series, but they seem pretty unmistakable. That said, Merchant Ivory had examined notions of repression and class in The Bostonians (1984) and A Room With a View (1985) and it was their tact in adapting the latter that prompted Forster's executors to allow the pair to not only adapt Maurice, but also film it in King's. 

While James Wilby (who was late replacement for Julian Sands) and Hugh Grant (in only his second film after making Michael Hoffman's Privileged [1982] while still at Oriel College, Oxford) do well enough in avoiding Edwardian archetypes, their performances sometimes seem a touch anachronistic at times, Some of the supporting roles also feel sketchy and it would have been intriguing and instructive to have spent more time with Kitty and Ada Hall, as well as Anne Durham. How different things might have been had Ruth Prawer Jhabvala not been preoccupied with her novel, Three Continents. Nevertheless, this remains a costume drama masterclass and a bold statement of pride and compassion at the height of the AIDS crisis.

Devotees of vinyl have been well served recently with a slew of movies set in record shops. In addition to such fictional offerings as Allan Moyle's Empire Records (1995), Stephen Frears's High Fidelity (2000), Anna Muyler's Durval Records (2002) and Lisa Barrios D'Sa and Glenn Leyburn's Good Vibrations (2012). there have also been documentaries like Brendan Toller's I Need That Record (2008), Jeanie Finlay's Sound It Out (2011). Pip Piper's Last Shop Standing (2012) and Colin Hanks's All Things Must Pass: The Rise and Fall of Tower Records (2015). Joining the list this week is Brett Haley's Hearts Beat Loud, a low-key drama about a father-daughter musical duo that examines in passing how independent stores are struggling to stay afloat in the face of online competition.

Greybeard Frank Fisher (Nick Offerman) runs Red Hook Records in a quiet Brooklyn backstreet. Business is slow and he has grown tired of putting up with dorks who object to him smoking behind the counter and then announce that they prefer buying their LPs cheaply on Amazon. Thus, even though he's been trading for 17 years, he decides not to renew his lease when landlady Leslie (Toni Collette) increases the rent.

Ever since his African-American wife was killed in a cycling accident, Nick has raised their daughter alone. But Sam (Kiersey Clemons) is taking pre-med classes prior to relocating to California to study medicine at UCLA. The pair have always bonded over music and Nick cajoles Sam into having one of their regular jam sessions in the home studio. He is hugely impressed by a song she has written entitled `Hearts Beat Loud' and Sam explains that the lyrics reveal the fact that she has something missing in her heart. 

She may well have found the Miss Right she has been searching for in punky artist, Rose (Sasha Lane). But she keeps her secret from Nick, who has similarly never mentioned the fact that he has a vague crush on Leslie. When he feels the need to confide, he heads to the bar run by his buddy, Dave (Ted Danson), a failed actor who has been doling out booze and sympathy on the same site for 30 years. Nick is amused by Dave's excitement at finding a new guy to supply his marijuana and wonders whether he has allowed himself to become stuck in a rut. 

While searching for Sam's birth certificate in the attic, Nick finds an old book of lyrics and the album he recorded with his band. Overcome by a mix of nostalgia and a hankering to make serious music again, he uploads `Hearts Beat Loud' to Spotify under the name We're Not a Band. Much to his surprise, he hears the tune receive radio play while queuing in his favourite bakery and he rushes home to break the news to Sam over some whoopie pies. 

She is far from amused that he had gone public with her song without her permission and she doesn't feel the need to break it gently that she doesn't want to be in a band with her dad. He tries to coax her round by purchasing a sampling machine and a Les Paul guitar, but she chides him for wasting money when times are hard and reminds him that she is intent on becoming a doctor and not a one-hit wonder. She is still seething when she meets up with Rose. But she tells her to listen to Mitski's `Your Best American Girl' and she not only writes another song herself, but also listens wistfully to one that Nick had written about her mother. 

While Sam works on her melody, Frank has dinner with Leslie. She teases him about having empty nest syndrome and reveals that she felt relief when her son left home at the earliest opportunity. He accepts that change is part of life, but admits to being concerned that the bond he forged with Sam after her mother died will be loosened by her departure. Moreover, he enjoys being proud of her and wanted her to share his pleasure in her success. In a bid to cheer him up, Leslie takes Frank to a karaoke bar and they are having a nightcap at Dave's when Nick takes umbrage at the casual affection Leslie shows to the much younger Ryan (Quincy Dunn-Baker).

Feeling old and alone, Nick sits on the kerb at the spot where his wife was killed. He has fixed a plaque of remembrance to the beacon and chained a white bicycle to the post so that pedestrians not only pay their respects, but also mind how they cross the road. Nearby, Sam pays a visit to her grandmother, Marianne (Blythe Danner), who keeps getting into trouble with the law for shoplifting. She is also in a reflective mood and tells Sam about the time she stole a man's heart while singing `All of Me' in a seedy nightclub. Sam enjoys hearing how her grandparents met and hopes that Marianne and Frank will take care of each other in her absence.

Realising he needs a new job, Frank applies to work in a cheese shop. He bumps into Leslie, who announces that she wants to rethink their partnership and offers him a 50-50 deal on the record store, if he agrees to a modernising makeover. While he promises to consider the plan, Sam confesses to Rose that she is worried her father is going through a midlife crisis and that she is making it worse by not helping him fulfil his dream. But she knows medical studies take time and she doesn't want to defer her placement. Rose suggests cycling to Coney Island to have some fun at the fair. However, Sam admits that she never learned to ride a bike and she clings to Rose after her first lesson. 

One afternoon, Frank receives a visit from a record label boss who wants to sign We're Not a Band. He rushes home to tell Sam and sound her out about touring. But she insists on sticking to her plans and loses patience when he complains that she is frittering away her talent and that she would see sense if her mother was talking to her. Storming out in frustration, Frank gets drunk and rings Leslie's doorbell in the wee small hours. She is not best pleased to see him in such a state, especially when he turns down her shop proposal. But she gets angry when he demands to know why she's sleeping with a toyboy like Ryan and she orders him to go home and sleep it off. 

The next day, Sam masters cycling, while Frank strums out an instrumental on the Les Paul. He is interrupted, however, by a call from the police station informing him that Marianne has been arrested again. She is released into his custody after Leslie comes up with the bail bond and he tears into Sam for leaving her phone off when she gets home at 2am. He dislikes playing the heavy father and shudders as he declares that his rules apply while she is living under his roof. 

Feeling sheepish, Sam comes to the shop the next morning. As she mooches around, she sees the place on the wall where Frank had measured her height. She apologises for not texting and he nods with a gruff smile. Looking at the place that has almost become her second home, Sam reveals that she has been thinking about the band aboard the Titanic and suggests playing a closing down gig to give the old store a rousing send off. Without hesitation, Frank agrees and puts a sandwich board on the pavement to let regulars and passers-by know that Red Hook Records is going out in a blaze of glory. 

Only a few people cluster around the racks at the back of the shop, as Frank makes a speech about dealing with change. But he is relieved when Leslie slips in and gives him a reassuring smile as We're Not a Band begin to play. With Rose beaming behind the till, the duo rattle through `Hearts Beat Loud' `Blink: One Million Miles' and `Everything Must Go'. Sam dedicates the last number to the girl she is about to leave behind and they drift away as Frank persuades Leslie to buy an Animal Collective album. 

Wiping away the tears, Rose gives Sam a necklace and wishes that they had been able to have more than a summer romance. Wandering back inside, Sam wonders how things might turn out if she decided to take a gap year. But, as the film ends, Frank is serving Leslie at Dave's bar, while Sam performs a slow acoustic version of `Hearts Beat Loud' during an open mike session in Los Angeles. 

As writers Brett Haley and Marc Basch have striven so hard to channel the emotions that Frank and Sam are experiencing into the songs they write, they must feel somewhat let down by the anaemic nature of the ditties penned by Keegan DeWitt. They're pleasant enough and Nick Offerman and the occasionally shouty Kiersey Clemons perform them with a reasonable amount of heart. But they don't make the hairs stand up on the back of the neck and, as a consequence, this rarely rises above the level of an under-rehearsed amateur twosome footling around in a shop whose stock doesn't appear to have been updated in a decade. 

The narrative timings are also a little off, as Haley fails to flag up the imminence of either Sam's departure or the store's closure, and the fact that they occur on the same day is one contrivance too many in so slender a plot. Offerman allows the odd twinkle to enliven his genial deadpan display, while Toni Collette and Ted Danson provide typically accomplished support. Clemons is less convincing in the difficult part of the dream-smashing daughter. But, while Offerman nudges her through their exchanges, she exhibits little chemistry with Sasha Lane, whose sapphic artist is little more than a kooky cipher. Eric Lin's photography and Erin Magill's interiors are perfectly serviceable. But the store lacks atmosphere and so, sadly, does this B-side movie.

Having landed a César and an Oscar nomination for his delightful debut, Ernest & Celestine (2012), French animator Benjamin Renner was always going to have his work cut out to match such feats with his sophomore outing. Yet, working in collaboration with Patrick Imbert, Renner managed to bag a second César with The Big Bad Fox & Other Tales, which he had adapted from his own bestselling comic-books. Once again favouring hand-drawn graphics over anything computer-generated, Renner will delight the purists. But he will also keep younger viewers chucklingly amused with a triptych that often feels as though Tex Avery and Dr Seuss joined forces to rethink Aesop. 

As the members of the Honeysuckle Farm Theatre Company prepare for their latest performance, a panic backstage about a missing infant results in Fox (Giles New) having to make an announcement that their first offering, `A Baby to Deliver', will now be about a water melon. However, the discovery of the child behind said melon means that the playlet can proceed as planned - or at least it can once the crew have finished erecting the scenery. 

Pig (Justin Edwards) likes nothing more than pottering around his garden. However, he is aghast when Duck (Bill Bailey) and Rabbit (Adrian Edmondson) offers their services and quickly cause chaos. They are about to tinker with Pig's prized apple tree when Stork (Phil Whelans) falls out of its branches and declares that he has hurt his wing so badly that he is no longer in a fit state to deliver a baby named Pauline to Avignon. Having narrowly prevented Rabbit and Duck from launching the child with a tree catapult, Pig is dismayed to discover that Duck has asked the Big Bad Wolf to show them the way. 

Escaping by butcher's truck, the new friends narrowly avoid careering off a winding road before plummeting into a pond. Luckily, as Duck can't swim, Rabbit is able to stiltwalk to the lily pad Pauline landed on and they get back to shore just before Pig is snapped by a large fish. Realising that have gone about 300 yards in five hours, Pig suggests they ask some humans for help. But they manage to run into a pair of lugs armed with tranquilliser guns who are looking for Tarsier (Yves Yan), a Chinese-speaking critter who has escaped from the zoo. 

After Rabbit gets a bit woozy after taking a dart to protect Pauline, Tarsier suggests that they should put him in a box and mail him home. Reasoning they could do the same for Pauline, Rabbit stands on Duck's shoulders and they don a raincoat to take the parcels to the post office. Unfortunately, Rabbit gets them muddled and they find themselves on an aeroplane before they fall out of the cargo hold and float down to Pauline's new home using her nappy as a parachute. Thus, not only does all end well, but Pig also succeeds in launching Stork into orbit using the tree catapult for feigning injury and putting them through the wringer. 

Following Stork's crash landing on the stage (and his boast that he does all his own stunts), we return to the farm for `The Big Bad Fox'. Unfortunately, Fox is neither big nor bad and Chicken (Celia Imrie) has no trouble keeping him out of her house. Unable to face another dinner of Pig's turnips, Fox consults Wolf (Matthew Goode), who suggests stealing Chicken's eggs and fattening the chicks for a feast. But, while Fox manages to purloin the eggs in the middle of the night, the hatchlings think he's their mother and Wolf wishes him well in keeping them under control until they are ready to consume. 

While Chicken forms a self-defence club because Dog (Phill Jupitus) is too useless to protect them, the Chicks (Louie Loveday-O'Brien, Alexander Molony and Tallulah Conabeare) become convinced that Wolf is the Big Bad Fox in their mummy's story. So, Fox has to persuade Wolf to let him scare him off so that the Chicks think he's the Big Bad Fox after all. However, Wolf runs out of patience and wants to scoff the Chicks right away and Fox has to disguise himself as a chicken to lay low in the farmyard until the Wolf has moved on. 

Naturally, he gets rumbled, especially as the Chicks want to eat their classmates at school. But they are so disappointed when Chicken makes Fox look feeble that they head into the woods to ask Wolf to become their new mummy. He is about to gobble them up when Fox rushes to the rescue and Chicken and her fight club bash the predator into submission. Unable to live without either mummy, the Chicks persuade Chicken to let Fox live on the farm and, much to Dog's amusement, he takes over the running of the combat classes.

Completing the programme is `Saving Christmas', which sees the animals decorating the farmyard with baubles and tinsel. Keen to keep Duck and Rabbit out of the way, Pig suggests they build a snowman. He despairs when they try to shovel clean snow off the roof of his sty and can barely believe his eyes when they chop down a tree in order to get some twigs for the snowman's arms. However, he struggles to keep his temper when the tree falls on his hut and the facade collapses when he tries to repair it.

Convinced that they need to grow up, Rabbit and Duck sidle off to the other side of the yard. On seeing Father Christmas hanging off the ledge of the highest window in the barn, however, they decide they have to rescue him and are distraught when they manage to decapitate him. Unable to understand why Pig is taking the news of Santa's slaughter so well (because he knows they've only destroyed a decoration), Duck and Rabbit set about replacing him and delivering toys to all the children of the world in one night. In harnessing a lawnmower to a cart, however, they succeed only in zooming through the gate and winding up in the city dog pound after causing chaos in the local supermarket. 

Finding themselves in a cage with some hungry hounds, Pig chastises himself for getting involved with idiots like Rabbit and Duck. However, they manage to convince the small daughter of the leader of the pack that they are Santa, his chief elf and the porker who pulls the sleigh because no one can afford reindeer in a recession. Thus, after they somehow manage to burst their way out of captivity, they persuade the mutts to help them rummage through the dumpsters at the side of the road in order to fill a shopping trolley with gifts. 

Hurtling down a steep slope, the trolley becomes airborne and lands on the roof of a well-appointed house. Unaware that the owner has dressed as Santa to surprise his three children, Duck slides down the chimney in his Father Christmas costume and gets chased around the room with a broom, while Pig and Rabbit wonder what can go wrong next. Wafted back on to the tiles, the trio look up to see the real Santa (Marcel McCalla) hanging from the guttering after being knocked off balance by a flying shopping trolley. Luckily, Rabbit performs an unlikely rescue and they are given a lift back to the farm. Everyone is delighted with their presents the next morning and the curtain falls on a scene of contentment. 

As the credits roll with the janitor doing a soft-shoe shuffle while cleaning the stage, this jolly romp will have many older viewers reminiscing fondly about Bob Godfrey's wonderful Roobarb cartoons. The visuals are slightly more sophisticated, but the madcap humour and slapstick flights of fancy are much the same. Or maybe things would feel different with the original French vocal cast, as the likes of Adrian Edmondson and Bill Bailey would be more than familiar with Richard Briers's interpretation of Roobarb the barking green dog and his feline nemesis, Custard. 

Given that Renner and Jean Regnaud's jokes have been translated into idiomatic English, comparisons could be made to Eric Thompson's timeless work on The Magic Roundabout and Anthea Bell and Derek Hockridge's exceptional efforts on the Asterix the Gaul books. But, while this anthropomorphic portmanteau isn't quite in that league - indeed it deteriorates steadily after the hilarious opening episode - its blend of absurdity and sagacity should keep audiences of all ages entertained, as should Robert Marcel Lepage's playfully jaunty score, with its witty Prokofiev samplings enlivening the over-extended central segment. However, one has to wonder about the timing of the release, as the closing storyline feels better suited to Yuletide than the summer hols.

The resumption of opium production is one of the forgotten by-products of the war in Afghanistan and the husband-and-wife team of Gulistan and Elizabeth Mirzaei explore the impact of heroin addiction on the population of Kabul in Laila At the Bridge, a no-nonsense profile of Laila Haidari, who has dedicated her life to those who huddle in an underpass near the Pul-i-Sokhta bridge for their daily fixes. Showing under the Dochouse banner, this is not only a tribute to a remarkable woman, but it is also a bold indictment of the hypocrisy of the politicians whose reluctance to tackle the nation's drug problem feels tantamount to complicity. 

Despite promises of crackdowns, opium production has boomed in Afghanistan since the 2001 American invasion. It is now responsible for 90% of the world supply and 11% of the Afghan population uses drugs. Laila Haidari goes in search of those ready to seek a cure and brings them back to Mother Camp, where they have to surrender their belongings, submit to having their heads shaved and embark upon a regime of cold showers and tough love. Together with her brother, Hakim (who was an addict for 30 years), she finds a way to cure without methadone or medical interventions, largely because she gets no support from the government or any overseas charities.

In addition to running a camp for women (where Masooma is among those trying to stay clean), Laila also owns the Taj Begum Restaurant. But her hopes of funding the camps with the profits are diminishing and she appears on a local TV debate programme in order to bring her project to the attention of Mohamed Ibrahim Azhar, the Deputy Minister of Counter Narcotics, and Dr Abdullah Wardak, the CEO of the Colombo Plan, who takes umbrage when Laila suggests that he is corrupt and that several government agencies and NGOs are in cahoots with the opium producers and the traffickers. 

Among those in care at Mother Camp are Ikhtiar Gul (who was badly wounded in the face in 1993) and poet Sayed Jamil. They are grateful for the opportunity to free themselves from their addiction. But many of those Laila finds at the bridge are unwilling to quit and she takes a stick to those gawping judgementally and claims to be afraid of nobody, as she is the most badass person she knows. She is certainly a force of nature and refuses to be intimidated by anybody, as she has endured her own share of suffering after her Iranian husband (whom she married when she was 12) was granted custody of their three children. 

Delegates from the Ministry of Counter Narcotics come to inspect the Mother Camp and Laila tears them off a strip when they say the conditions don't comply to their regulations. She says she is running this place on her own and that the people under her roof are a damn sight better off than those who refuse to leave the bridge. The besuited civil servants reassure her that they support her work and she leaves them in no doubt that she is not impressed by their fine words and empty promises. Putting on make-up, Laila meets a businessman who has agreed to donate $4000 and she uses some of the money to pay off her debt with the local grocer. He asks if she can give him the full amount and she snorts that he should feel guilty being surrounded by full shelves when so many are in desperate poverty. 

Laila also buys a cake to celebrate the second anniversary of Hakim becoming clean, which coincides with his daughter's 8th birthday. He apologises to his children for the shame he has brought them, but promises them he has turned a corner. But keeping the camps and the restaurant open is a struggle, as an increase in Taliban attacks has meant a drastic drop off in business and Laila's debts are increasing. She seeks a meeting with a government minister to ask for funding, only for him rudely to dismiss her efforts as amateurish and claim that she is the one who needs to go through rehab. 

Just about keeping her temper, Laila curses the fact that she is treated with such contempt by complacent buffoons. She also rails at the mafia responsible for the plight of so many discarded souls and laments that the authorities are too weak to challenge them. Laila is dismayed at being forced to close the women's camp and hurt by Masooma's suggestion that she has betrayed her by casting her on to the streets when she most needs support. But Ikhtiar is much more positive about the future when he leaves the Mother Camp of his own volition and goes to live with his brother. 

Under pressure from all sides, Laila is delighted to get a visit from her daughter, Zekia. She is concerned about being able to keep her safe, but takes her to the bridge so she can form an understanding of the work she does. Yet, she also treats her to a ride on a Ferris Wheel, even though Laila herself doesn't enjoy the ride, as she would rather keep her feet on the ground. She cries when Zekia flies home and regrets not being able to give her children anything. But, when she hears that Ikhtiar has died of a stroke, she feels strangely positive at his graveside because he was clean. 

Determined to reach out to the addicts at the bridge after being given a donation by the Ministry of Counter Narcotics, Laila is furious when a fight breaks out over a piece of bread and she wonders why she bothers with people who are so self-centred that all they think about is satisfying their cravings. She also feels frustrated when Sayed is diagnosed with hepatitis and HIV and asks to borrow some money so he can go to Kandahar to become a pipeline security guard. As he can barely walk without getting out of breath, Laila wishes he would be more realistic and he sidles away to visit an uncle, who shows him footage of the wedding day he has almost forgotten.

Masooma is also struggling, as her sons have disowned her and the only way in which she can get toddler Nazaneen to sleep is by mashing some opium into her fruit juice. Laila announces that she is thinking about arming herself because her job is becoming increasingly dangerous, while Sayed returns to the bridge in search of heroin (at $2 a hit) because he can no longer see the point in staying clean. While the government makes a big show of destroying a confiscated stash, it continues to question the value of Laila's mission and someone named Sharifi refuses to support her while she adheres to the methods of Narcotics Anonymous. 

Seething with rage, Laila threatens Sharifi that she will accuse the ministry of being in cahoots with the mafia unless she is taken seriously. When he laughs off her threat, she calls a press conference at the bridge and makes it clear that she is going to keep fighting for a cause she believes in. But she knows it's not going to be easy and she describes how an intruder broke into her room and tried to garrotte her. Luckily, she was able to get her hand inside the wire around her neck and pushed the assailant away before frightening him off with her gun. Undaunted, Laila opens a new restaurant in the hope of raising funds and the film ends with her back amidst the sickening squalor of the underpass, as tries to persuade some addicts to try her cure, in the knowledge that they can only decide to cross the bridge themselves. 

For all that Laila Haidari deserves enormous credit for her refusal to abandon the addicts of Pul-i-Sokhta, this is a rather muddled snapshot of her existence. It's never made clear whether she practices her particular brand of cure because she believes in it or because funds are so low that she has no alternative. Moreover, Elizabeth and Gulistan Mirzaei never give her detractors the chance to justify their objections to her methods. They simply acquiesce in Laila's contention that those who obstruct her are bandits in suits without delving any more deeply into government policy or without attempting to discover the truth about ministerial connections with the druglords.  

Clearly filming near the bridge proved precarious, but the Mirzaeis fail to provide any background information about why this spot became the popular hangout. They also omit to mention whether any other charities are operating in the vicinity and, if so, whether they are having any more tangible success than Laila and Hakim. An objective assessment of her strategy from a representative of an overseas aid agency or a human rights group might also have been useful, as she comes across as a well-meaning maverick rather than somebody with a concerted and demonstrably effective plan of action that is going to have long-term benefits for those who keep slipping through the cracks.

Laila is frequently shown bustling around Kabul and locking horns with faceless politicians and public servants (all of whom are male), but we don't see enough of her communing on a one-to-one basis with the likes of Sayed and Masooma. We also learn nothing of her interaction (if, indeed, she has any) with the family members of those she is trying to help. Thus, while Laila is evidently a woman of humbling courage and inspirational energy, she feels somewhat sold short by this well-meaning, but scattershot study.

Despite what he might have you believe, Donald Trump was not the first to come up with the idea of placing obstructions along the 1900-mile American border with Mexico. Indeed, government policy has striven to deter migrants from crossing the Sonoran Desert since 1994 and 650 miles of the frontier is already blocked with a fence, a wall or some similar kind of barrier. 

Intrigued by a chance remark from a border guard and informed by the contents of anthropologist Jason De León's tome, The Land of Open Graves, artist Joshua Bonnetta and visual anthropologist JP Sniadecki spent three years in this inhospitable wilderness to make El Mar la Mar, a poetic rumination that combines voiceover testimony with illustrative imagery that was filmed on 16mm and digitised to give it some added ethereality. Coming a year after Alejandro González Iñárritu visited the same terrain for his seven-minute gallery installation, Carne y Arena, this often makes for more disconcerting listening than viewing. Indeed, few will emerge from this broilingly immersive experience emotionally unscathed. 

The opening visual passage of the landscape being filmed through the slats of a fence feels as though Stan Brakhage had created an abstraction for a faulty zoetrope. It's followed by a foul-mouthed anecdote from an Arizonan about an encounter with a 15ft mountain monster and evocative images of bushfires blazing in the dark. A woman then recalls a visit she received just before dawn from a man who had lost his way and had spent a freezing night in the desert before asking if he could warm himself beside her fire. 

Discarded holy pictures and rosary beads are juxtaposed with hanging water containers, as walkie-talkie crackle plays over dramatic cloudscapes. A Mexican man describes how he became separated from his party when he stayed back to help a struggling senior. However, when he fell asleep while dodging a police patrol, he woke to find that his companions had abandoned him and he had to trudge on alone. 

A long shot of a balding man floating in a lake gives way to more hectic activity involving ants and bees before the screen blackens and a woman tells how she was walking through the desert when her group came across the body of a dead migrant in the middle of nowhere. They took pictures for evidence and waited for the cops to come and she was appalled that the older officer joked about not wanting chili con carne for supper after seeing the corpse. His younger companions had been more respectful, but the sight of the woman huddled under her backpack and the smell of death stayed with the narrator for a long time afterwards. 

After a woman in a pink and white dress strips to her underwear and lowers herself into a swimming hole (and seems to disappear), we see a white-bearded veteran staring into the wind in a defiant profile that recalls the iconography of the Old West. What appear to be birds flutter in clusters against a ruddy blue sky before we hear a man explain how he taught himself to be a tracker and learn the signs to look for when following migrants across the wastes. He highlights the dangers posed by the wildlife and suggests that people have got so used to finding bodies that they have become inured to the extent of the human tragedy. However, he did manage to rescue one fellow, who had become so dehydrated that he had been walking in a dazed circle for a week.

As Peggy Lee sings `Johnny Guitar' on the soundtrack, we see close-ups of the ageing, roll-up equivalent of the Marlboro Man before hearing a local describing how he had come across a migrant who was on his last legs after surviving on his own urine for several days. He had died in hospital that night and the witness also recalls encountering a party that had left a straggler with some provisions while they struck out for signs of civilisation, only to discover that he had perished almost as soon as they had left him. 

A disorientating combination of flashing images and storm sounds gives way to a searchlight drive through nocturnal terrain. As the screen turns black again, a Hispanic male recollects how his group were deposited by their people traffickers and told to get walking. They had been lucky in finding shaded places to sleep and had managed to avoid the vipers and rattlesnakes mentioned earlier in an eavesdropped radio transmission. The speaker struggles to retain his composure, as he realises that many more fail to get through and he stresses how heartbreaking it is to get so close to journey's end only to succumb to an insect or snake bite or to be mauled by a mountain cat. 

Pulling dozens of wagons, a locomotive rumbles slowly across the plain, with its mournful whistle hovering in the air above the clank of the wheels. Close-ups follow of a pair of glasses, an old-fashioned mobile phone and a rucksack lying on the ground before a female voice reads extracts from Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz's 1692 poem, `First Dream', over a static grainy grey image of a lowering storm breaking over the horizon. 

Some readers may remember Sniadecki from The Iron Ministry (2014), an exploration of the Chinese rail network that featured last summer in a Dochouse special on trains. He is a graduate of the Harvard Sensory Ethnography Lab that has also been behind such landmark documentaries as Lucien Castaing-Taylor and Verena Paravel's Leviathan (2012) and Stephanie Spray and Pacho Velez's Manakamana (2013). Teaming with Joshua Bonnetta, Sniadecki has not only conducted a sobering study of the problem that Donald Trump used as a rabble-rousing gambit, but he has also challenged the notions of fake news by presenting a timely treatise on the irrefutability of evidence.

Shooting their own images and relying on Josh Berger to produce the atmospheric sound mix, Bonnetta and Sniadecki employ structuralist tactics in retaining imperfections in the visuals and often reduce the screen to a black void to give the audience an idea of how difficult it is negotiating such treacherous terrain in enveloping darkness. They also coerce viewers into becoming listeners, while also challenging them to engage without always understanding. This is a tough ask for most moviegoers and it's hard to see this straying far from its niche. But The ICA should be commended for programming such a demanding item and for forcing us to rethink our attitudes to American frontier mythology and the ways in which we receive information and accept the reliability of its source.