Parky at the Pictures (In Cinemas 11/5/2017)

During supper, there is a knock at the door and Beer opens it to see Pierre Niney scurrying away down the street. The following morning, he is crying quietly at the graveside when Beer arrives at the churchyard and he summons the courage to visit Stötzner at his surgery. Refusing to treat a Frenchman because they are all responsible for his son's death, Stötzner orders Niney to leave his house and refuses to discuss the matter with Gruber and Beer when they come to Von Lucke's unchanged room to see what Niney wanted.

Keen to meet Niney, Beer leaves a note at his hotel and declines Von Bülow's invitation to a forthcoming ball. Niney comes to the house and reveals that he knew Von Lucke in Paris before the war. He chooses his words carefully under Stötzner's suspicious scrutiny, but Beer and Gruber urge him to recall past meetings and we flashback to the muted colours of the Louvre, as the friends discuss the paintings before dancing with some pretty girls in a bar. Stötzner closes his eyes in anguish as he listens to the anecdotes, but Beer thanks Niney for bringing them some comfort.

She accompanies him to the cemetery the next day and explains that Von Lucke was buried in France and that the grave is merely a focus for the family's mourning. Beer also discloses that they know nothing about his fate other than the date he died and admits that she sometimes imagines him coming home. She recites his favourite Verlaine poem in French and Niney compliments her on her accent. Beer asks about the nature of their friendship and whether they competed over a sweetheart. But he lowers his eyes and insists that they were nothing more than pals.

They wander into the hills and she shows him the place where Von Lucke proposed. She is surprised that Niney knows so little about her and fails to notice his discomfort when she talks about how they met in a bookshop at students. However, she watches him swim in his underwear when he complains of being hot and suggests a dip in the lake. As he lies on the grass, she sees the scars on his torso. But he is reluctant to discuss them and claims that his sole wound is Von Lucke.

The colour drains from the imagery again as Gruber tells Beer that she sees many similarities between Niney and her son. Over supper, she is pleased to discover that they both played the violin, but is sorry to hear that Niney has ceased to play in an orchestra since the war because he can no longer hear the notes. Stötzner shows him Von Lucke's room and confides the guilt he feels at forcing the boy to do his duty for the Fatherland. He shows Niney his son's violin (which he considers to be his heart) and asks him to take it back to Paris. But, while Niney refuses, he agrees to play after looking through a photograph album and listening to Beer reading Von Lucke's last letter. His mind harks back (in colour) to the lessons he used to give his friend before he starts to play. Enchanted by the music, Stötzner and Gruber put their heads together and Beer is suitably moved to accompany Niney on the piano. But the intensity of the situation proves too much for him and he faints.

Beer walks Niney back to his hotel and he invites her to the Spring Ball. She accepts and Gruber accompanies her to buy a new dress, while Niney returns to his room to find a parcel containing a small coffin. Von Bülow is furious with Beer for bringing a Frenchman to a German festival. But the local girls are pleased to have a handsome young man to dance with and Beer ignores Von Bülow's rebuke to swirl away to the oompah band. She accepts Niney's jacket over her shoulder as they walk home, but his night is spoilt when a drunken reveller spits on him after he helps him back to his feet. He returns to his room and tries to write Beer a letter revealing the real reason for his visit, but he screws the paper into a ball.

The next day, Stötzner joins his friends in the hotel bar and is put out when they refuse his offer of a drink because he has befriended Niney. He regrets that they blame him for their losses when they all supported the war and sent their sons to the trenches with cheers and celebrated each victory without a thought for the French counterparts mourning their dead. As he leaves, he bumps into Niney and asks him to supper. But Niney is unnerved by the doctor's party singing a patriotic song while he waits for his key and has to stand his ground when Von Bülow accuses him of dishonouring Von Lucke's memory by trying to steal his girl.

When Niney fails to keep his appointment that night, Beer goes looking for him and finds him in the windswept churchyard. He insists on telling her what happened on the Marne on 15 September 1918, as his patrol was marching through the blasted countryside (in washed-out colour). Enemy shelling drove him into an empty trench where he found himself face-to-face with Von Lucke. His eyes were wide with terror, but he was armed and Niney shot him before he lost his nerve. He fell backwards and a stunned Niney had edged towards him as chaos reined around him.

As Beer begins to sob, Niney recalls how a blast had thrown him on top of the corpse and he had wiped the mud off Von Lucke's. He had discovered that his rifle was unloaded and, in a desperate bid to learn something about the man he had killed, he had searched his pockets and found his last letter to Beer. She curses him for lying about the happy times they had shared in Paris and Niney admits he has been a coward. But he confesses his need to unburden himself of his guilt and insists that he has come to love Von Lucke with each new detail he has learnt about his life and personality. Distraught, Beer hurries away and leaves Niney alone in the darkness after he promises to tell Stötzner and Gruber the truth before his train leaves the following day.

However, Beer meets him at the inn and escorts him to the station without letting him return to the house. She claims to have broken the news and, as she sees Niney on to his train, she agrees to let him write to them in the future. But she has actually told Gruber and Stötzner that Niney has been called home to see his sick mother and has made no mention of his role in their son's demise. So, as they sit down to lunch, they merely regret that they didn't get a chance to say goodbye and hope that he can return one day.

Beer tends to Von Lucke's grave and is stirred by the sound of the wind rustling the trees that had so moved Niney. She visits the churchyard in all weathers and constantly re-reads letters from the front. But she now hears Niney's voice reading the messages that Von Lucke had written in French to prevent his parents from snooping. Crushed by the betrayal of a man she had grown to love because he so reminded her of the lover she had lost, Beer wanders in the direction of the lake and walks into the water. She is only saved by a passing stranger, who recognises her as Von Lucke's fiancée, and she implores him to say nothing to Gruber and Stötzner.

Confined to her bed with a chill, she dreams that Von Lucke returns to play the violin for his parents. But, when a letter finally comes from Niney, she burns it in the stove in her room and makes up news about Niney resuming his career as a musician and promising to play Von Lucke's violin again. She tries to reply, but goes to confession instead and is comforted by Torsten Michaelis telling her to forgive Niney and to continue his lie to spare Gruber and Stötzner further pain. But the priest senses that Beer has feelings for Niney and echoes Stötzner's words about the need for life to go on. As she leaves the church, Von Bülow apologises for his behaviour towards Stötzner and Niney and asks for her hand again. She tells Gruber, who urges her to think carefully, as she could have a much nicer life with Niney.

After a few days, Beer writes to Niney and suggests that he might like to come back to Quedlinburg, as she has now come to terms with the reasons for his deception. But the letter is returned unopened and Gruber persuades Beer to go to Paris to find him. She feels eyes staring at her when required to show her passport on the train and averts her gaze from the ruins of a town that are reflected in the window. Despite speaking decent French, she feels like a stranger as the taxi drops her at the hotel where Von Lucke had stayed as a student and feels queasy as she sits on the bed, as it is clearly used for immoral purposes.

The next day, she goes to Niney's last address and books a ticket to see his orchestra play at the Opéra. As she sits in a café, she is unnerved when some soldiers enter and the patrons stand to launch into a furiously patriotic rendition of `La Marseillaise'. She is even more discomfited when the Édouard Manet painting that Niney had mentioned in the Louvre depicts a suicide victim. Further distressed by his absence from the orchestra, Beer makes inquiries at a hospital that lead her to the cemetery at Passy. Much to her relief, the man who took his own life is Niney's uncle and she tracks down widow Jeanne Ferron to ask about her nephew. She smiles when Beer tells her story and sends her to the country house of her husband's sister, Cyrielle Clair.

Niney is delighted to see her and asks after Stötzner and Gruber with an earnestness that unsettles his mother. But she invites Beer to stay before Niney shows her around the grounds. She informs him that the whole family has forgiven him for killing Von Lucke and he is pathetically grateful for their kindness, as he feared he would lose his mind if they abandoned him. He introduces her to old friend Alice de Lencquesaing, who is due to sing after dinner and Beer is put out by the closeness between the pair. Yet De Lencquesaing lends her a dress and thanks her for accepting Niney, as she had lost her own brother in the war and had feared that her childhood friend would not be able to survive his guilt.

At dinner, however, Beer is flustered by table talk about the street celebrations that had broken out when peace was declared and becomes so jealous of the looks that Niney gives De Lencquesaing while they accompany her that Beer plays out of tune and rushes to her room. Niney tries to be reassuring, but he backs away when Beer closes in for a kiss and she wishes she had stayed in Germany. She is even more relieved to be leaving when she hears Clair pleading with Niney not to jeopardise his relationship with De Lencquesaing, as no one else would be so willing to have him as a husband. As Beer leaves, Clair begs her not to torment Niney, but Beer suggests that it's his feelings for Von Lucke that are the root of his troubles.

Niney drives Beer to the station at Saulieu and invites her to the wedding. She tearfully declines and Niney kisses her softly on the lips. He goes to speak, but she insists that things cannot change and she puts on a brave face when he exhorts her to be happy. She writes to Stötzner and Gruber to reassure them that she is having a wonderful time and spends her evenings listening to Niney play or accompanying him at private recitals. The elderly couple clasps hands as Gruber reads about the Manets at the Louvre and the film ends (and returns to colour for the final time), as Beer sits in front of `The Suicide' next to a young man who resembles Niney and confides that the picture makes her feel alive.

Ozon has explored the theme of bereavement several times, most notably in Sous le Sable (2000) and The New Girlfriend (2014). But, in revisiting the early years of the last century for the first time since he adapted the Elizabeth Taylor novel, Angel (2007), Ozon seems uncertain where to lay the emotional emphasis in a story that's as much about repressed emotion and closeted homosexuality as it is about grief, female emancipation and the perils of extreme nationalism. Even though Lubitsch was working in Pre-Code Hollywood, he was unable to broach Rostand's subtext and was forced to let doctor Lionel Barrymore and wife Louise Carter accept Phillips Holmes as Nancy Carrolls husband without knowing he had bayoneted their son, Tom Douglas, in a moment of cowardly panic.

In this revision, Ozon implies that Niney shoots Von Lucke because he can't live with the shame of falling in love at first sight with an enemy soldier. Yet he still spends the night lying as close as possible to his corpse in a moment of foxhole necrophilia that entices Niney into inventing the bromantic backstory that he can share with his beloved's parents and fiancée in order to keep him alive in his memory and to assuage the crushing sense of remorse that is so rarely discussed in screen studies of combat-related post-traumatic stress. By stressing the human aspect of the tale, however, Ozon plays down the political element, although this could still be read as a post-Brexit parable on the brotherhood of nations.

Wistful without being winsome, Beer copes well enough with being the narrative focus, as she strives to make sense of her feelings for Niney, while seeking to avoid causing her surrogate parents further pain. But Ozon fails to establish the precise nature of the love she feels for Von Lucke and, thus, with Niney often seeming frustratingly passive, her desire feels less confused than contrived, particularly when she realises that she has an unexpected rival in the masculinely attired De Lencquesaing. But Clair and De Lencquesaing are no substitute for Stötzner and Gruber and the picture's emotional intensity is much depleted by their prolonged absence. On the technical side, the influence of the great Romantic painter Caspar David Friedrich is readily evident, as is the use of mirror imagery borrowed from Douglas Sirk and Rainer Werner Fassbinder. Yet, by opting to shoot predominantly in shimmering black and white in order to evoke the look of the Heimat films produced in inter-war Germany, Ozon and cinematographer Pascal Marti invite comparisons with Michael Haneke's The White Ribbon (2009) that only serve to make the scene exposing Von Bülow's Prussian patriotism feel all the more cumbersome. Equally ineffectual are the fleeting glimpses of colour in the otherwise authentically sombre postwar milieux created by production designer Michel Barthélémy and costumier Pascaline Chavanne, which feel as laboured as the fallacious flashbacks, whose faux nostalgia is reinforced by the manipulative Mahleresque motifs in Philippe Rombi's score. In short, for all Ozon's customary grace and taste, this classical melodrama lacks the fabled `Lubitsch touch'.

If Ozon downplays the homoerotic undercurrent, it positively courses through the first half of Händl Klaus's second feature, Tomcat. A morality tale set in an Edenic Vienna, this won the prestigious Teddy Award at the Berlin Film Festival and seems destined to become a firm favourite in LGBT cine-circles. With its German title, Kater, also meaning `hangover', this meticulously made melodrama is very much a study in postlapsarian angst that is rooted firmly in the austere traditions of the Austrian New Wave. Indeed, Klaus (who prefers his name to be billed in the Hungarian or Japanese manner) acted for Michael Haneke in 71 Fragments of a Chronology of Chance (1994) and The Piano Teacher (2001). Yet, for all its stylistic poise, this intriguing, if fitfully involving saga never quite recovers from the demise of its scene-stealing feline star.

Lukas Turtur plays French horn in the Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra, which is managed by his lover, Philipp Hochmair. They share an idyllic cottage on the outskirts of Vienna with their handsome tabby cat, Moses, who goes where he pleases whenever he likes. Turtur is sure that he has caught a chill off Moses and allows Hochmair to fuss over him until he feels better. He has a burning ambition to play Mahler's Sixth Symphony. But, even though he has a good job, he still takes students to make a little extra cash.

They invite friends over for supper and sing with them during the car journey. One dislikes cats, but the others pamper Moses, who is declared `the pasha of the house'. Having tidied away, Turtur and Hochmair fool around naked to Miles Davis's `All Blues', as Moses stretches lazily on the window ledge. However, he has to spend New Year with neighbours Oswald Köhler and Brigitte Pototschnig, as the orchestra is playing a midnight concert. On their return, however, Turtur finds a frozen snake next to Moses's basket and he takes it into the snow-covered garden and covers it with a stone canopy so that it can thaw without inquisitive paws prodding at it.

As spring comes, Moses rouses himself from burying his nose under his paw to explore the garden. He chews long stems of grass and rubs against slender wooden stems. When Hochmair and Turtur plant some catnip, he brushes against them and takes a keen interest in the watering can. He also explores the rock-and-brick edifice Turtur had constructed for the snake, but the reptile has seemingly slithered away.

All seems perfect, as they chuck Moses under the chin and speculate about his life before they took him in as a stray. He brings them a mouse, which he bats across the cellar floor, and clambers over a pile of manuscripts while Turtur tries to practice. When they throw a summer party, Moses allows a toddler to ruffle his fur, while Hochmair and Turtur pick berries for their guests and sympathise with clarinetist Thomas Stipsits when his partner, Russian bassoonist Manuel Rubey, abruptly leaves without him. They chat on the terrace as some of the musicians play football on the grass and flop in the sitting-room for a group sing-song. Moreover, they allow Stipsits to watch as they make love on the sofa before bidding him goodnight to the sound of Moses defending his territory against an intruder.

The next day, while the naked Hochmair and Turtur idly discuss holiday plans over breakfast, Moses licks yoghurt off the latter's fingers. However, he suddenly bites him and Turtur snaps the cat's neck in a moment of reckless fury. Ashamed of his actions, he slips on some underpants (a sign that the Edenic idyll is over) and howls with anguish as Hochmair wraps Moses in his blanket and places him in his basket. Having turned away a pupil who had come for his music lesson, Hochmair buries the cat in the garden and ignores Turtur as he tries to apologise. He puts a collar and some treasured toys in the bottom of a dressing-table drawer and, as he cleans Moses's food dish and blocks up the cat flap, he wonders how his supposed soulmate could do something so cruel and brutal. Without speaking, he lets Turtur gather some bedding to sleep in the spare room and locks the door behind him.

Driving into the city the next morning, Hochmair ignores Turtur as he cries quietly in the passenger seat. He watches him rehearse, as though trying to assess if he is the same man he fell in love with, and decides to take the bus home alone after consulting a doctor about why someone would behave so aggressively at the slightest provocation. Meanwhile, Turtur is pulled over for driving too slowly and the cops conduct a full search of the vehicle because he is behaving so oddly. Frustrated at being made to sleep in the spare room, Turtur loses patience with Hochmair for playing loud music when he is trying to concentrate. He also struggles to find much enthusiasm for his young student, who keeps asking after Moses. After visiting a doctor and a cat rescue centre, Turtur declares himself a murderer and admits that he feels too sad to speak about what happened. But Hochmair has little sympathy with him and asks if he had considered killing the cat before he did. Turtur is hurt that he could ask such a question and can barely bring himself to speak to Stipsits when he comes for lunch. They go for a stroll and, when they see a poster for a missing cat, Stipsits tries to reassure Turtur that Moses will come back in his own good time. But he can't bring himself to tell him the truth and is left feeling more alone and upset when Hochmair attacks him while he is snacking from the fridge and he cowers on the floor in frightened remorse.

Returning to the rehearsal hall, Turtur puts jars of preserves on the seats of his friends and hands a spare one to a cellist practicing alone. He meets up with some pals to play football in the rain and they console him when he starts to sob hysterically and they show their solidarity until he is ready to resume the game. But Hochmair continues to suffer in silence and hides away when Turtur appears to masturbate in the cellar. He tries to get back into Hochmair's good books by making his favourite dish. But he eats without pleasure and, in climbing a tree to fetch some more plums to treat him, Turtur loses an eye in a fall. Hochmair rushes to his side and is helplessly bereft as the medical team arrive. He spends the night alone in the silent house and forgives Turtur with a lingering hug when he collects him from the hospital.

Hochmair snuggles up to Turtur as he naps. But he closes the shower door when Turtur comes into the bathroom to shave and he realises that the healing process still has a way to go. The gather mushrooms in Moses's basket and find a dead rabbit in the undergrowth before sitting beside a lake in the afternoon sun. Turtur reveals that his glass eye is being fitted soon and he says they can go swimming again. A further sign that things are slowly returning to normal comes in the form of Kathi, a white kitten belonging to Köhler and Pototschnig, who pads into the garden. They agree to care for her whenever the older couple are away and they look on indulgently as Turtur lets Kathi lick yoghurt off his fingers.

But the image proves too much for Hochmair, who jumps up from the patio table and rushes inside. They hold each other on the bed and Turtur nods sadly as Hochmair declares that they can no longer sleep together, even though he is still in love. Yet Kathi (who has a little black spot on her forehead) becomes a regular and playful visitor. Like Moses, she walks on the piano keyboard and enjoys chasing a bell-ball and a toy mouse. She also likes a little rough and tumble. But, when Turtur goes to kiss Hochmair after watching him teasing Kathi, he turns his face away. He admits to missing the intimacy, but still can't trust himself to commit in the old way and Turtur promises to do whatever it takes to keep them together.

The orchestra plays a concert and Stipsits and Rubey cook for their friends. However, the latter feels awkward in such boisterous company and makes his excuses. Arriving home drunk, Turtur tries to undress Hochmair, but he rolls over and hunkers up to fend off his touch. As they doze the following morning, however, Kathi jumps on to the bed and gives them a quizzical sniff before gamboling off. Hochmair is happy to have her around and lets her eat out of Moses's bowl. But he still feels uncomfortable around Turtur when he comes home to find him sunbathing in the nude. So, he asks how he is feeling and how his therapy sessions are going. Turtur admits to some childhood issues and a fear that he will do something stupid again that will cause Hochmair to leave him. Hochmair wonders if he killed Moses in a subconscious bid to break up the relationship. But Turtur insists he would never do such a thing and hopes them can remain an item. They hug.

As autumn comes and they bottle fruit in the kitchen. Turtur rehearses while Hochmair goes looking for Kathi. He can't find her and asks Turtur to put a record on while he searches the garden. The strains of `All Blues' filter outside and Hochmair comes in to find Turtur dancing. He holds him and, as they sway, he removes his lover's shirt. Turtur reciprocates and, even after the music dies away, they continue to shuffle in a small circle with their eyes closed and their bodies close.

Echoes of Ira Sach's Love Is Strange (2014) can be heard beneath the magnificent music that counterpoints this earnest tale. But, whereas deft brush strokes shaped the characters played by John Lithgow and Alfred Molina, Klaus devotes more time to establishing Hochmair and Turtur's milieu and showing off their erections than he does to exploring their personalities. Viewers are asked to take their passion for granted, therefore, with the consequence that they have too little invested in it when things turns sour. The central performances are as deft as Enid Löser's production design and Gerald Kerkletz's camerawork. But many will be too shocked by the casual viciousness of the cat's death to care much what happens to the lovers in its aftermath. Indeed, the departure of the majestic Toni leaves such a chasm at the heart of the drama that it fails to recover from it, even after the arrival of the mischievously cute Kathi.

This is often the problem with pictures with an animal to the fore, as the audience will always be more concerned about their well-being than that of the protagonists. Take Audrey Hepburn and George Peppard in Blake Edwards's Breakfast at Tiffany's (1961). Who cares whether they kiss and make up? All that matters is that someone fetches Cat (played by the peerless Orangey) out of the rain.

However, in stinting on psychological intensity, Krauss also lays on the biblical symbolism a touch too thickly, with Turtur having his eye plucked out so that he can re-enter Paradise after sinning being the most egregious example. But the air of cultured smugness that pervades proceedings is also rather resistible, especially as the members of the orchestra are far too thinly sketched to make their badinage feel anything more than superfluous. Indeed, Stipsits and Rubey are little more than ciphers, with the former's presence during the sofa love-making sequence feeling creepy rather than inclusive.

Yet Krauss adroitly exposes the fragility of romantic perfection and the extent to which it's impossible to know everything about a loved one. Moreover, he paces the narrative beautifully, with his refusal to rush after the chillingly enacted and never satisfactorily explained felicide allowing the audience to share in the grieving process. He also ably captures the blissful aura of the rustic retreat and makes telling use of screen space when positioning the estranged Tartur and Hochmair within the frame. So, perhaps the problem is simply that this is one of those films that shouldn't be reviewed by a cat lover.

Woody Allen was so dismayed by the rough cut of Manhattan (1979) that he begged producers Jack Rollins and Charles H. Joffe to destroy it. He even offered to do his next picture for free if they would spare him the humiliation of releasing this misguided love letter to his hometown. Fortunately, they were able to convince Allen of the merits of what is essentially a homage to Federico Fellini's La dolce vita (1960) and, four decades on, it returns to cinemas in all its Gershwin-suffused monochrome glory.

Having failed over a magnificent montage of New York landmarks to compose the opening chapter of a new book, 42 year-old television writer Woody Allen introduces his new 17 year-old girlfriend, Mariel Hemingway, to his best friend, Michael Murphy, and his wife, Anne Byrne. Allen jokes that he is older than Hemingway's father and regrets having to cut the evening short because his date has an exam at school the next day. As they stroll home, college professor Murphy confides to Allen that he is cheating on Byrne with Philadelphian magazine writer Diane Keaton and is unnerved by the speed and intensity of the relationship. The twice-married Allen is surprised, but he has concerns of his own, as his second spouse, Meryl Streep, is writing a book about the break-up of their marriage and why she left him for lesbian Karen Ludwig.

The next day, Allen doorsteps Streep and begs her to abandon the project. But she insists on telling the truth about his quirks and peccadilloes and struts off before he can fire off a wounding insult. He has more luck sending Hemingway home at the end of their next date, as he doesn't want her to get too hung up on him when he is difficult to live with and she has the rest of her life in front of her. However, he enjoys her company and she is teasing him at a museum exhibition when they bump into Murphy and Keaton. Allen tries to show off in front of Hemingway, but Keaton shoots down his opinions and further infuriates him by stating that his cinematic hero, Ingmar Bergman, should be installed in the Academy of the Overrated that she has started with Murphy.

Making his excuses to get away from Keaton and her pompously chic pronouncements, Allen chunters away about her egotism during a grocery shop. He remains in a bad mood at work and quits his show because he thinks the producers are settling for cheap laughs. Murphy urges Allen to make the most of his leisure, but he is worried how he will cope with two alimony payments and an expensive apartment. He decides to focus on a book and is taking a break at a Museum of Modern Art gala when he bumps into Keaton again. She is chatting with a director making a film about orgasms and Allen struggles to disguise his contempt.

Strolling home with Keaton, he chastises her for having such intellectually bankrupt friends and suggests that they would be more at home in a Fellini film than Manhattan. Yet they end up walking Keaton's dog Waffles, getting breakfast and sitting by Brooklyn Bridge at dawn before Allen wakes Murphy at 7.30am to see if he is still seeing Keaton because he has fallen for her. Keaton is also having second thoughts about her affair, but Murphy remains smitten and she is charmed by his eagerness, despite not wanting to break up his marriage. But she is frustrated when he is busy one Sunday and she calls Allen on the off chance he is free. They get caught in a storm and take shelter in the Hayden Planetarium, where Keaton tells Allen about her marriage to Wallace Shawn, a brilliant academic who taught her a great deal about sex and herself. However, he found it impossible to be faithful to her and she had been insecure ever since.

Leaving early to keep a date with Hemingway, Allen congratulates her on being invited to study music and drama in London. But she is worried that he will find someone new in her absence and Allen is forced to remind her that he will be 63 when she is 36. In order to cheer her up, he agrees to a moonlit carriage ride in Central Park and complains that he did this kind of thing when he was a kid. Nevertheless, he kisses Hemingway passionately and tells her that she would be God's answer to Job. She helps him move into his new apartment and tells him to stop being childish when he is spooked by noises rumbling around the building. They share Chinese takeaways in bed watching television, while Murphy breaks up with Keaton because he feels ready to have a child with Byrne. But Keaton seeks out Allen when she needs a shoulder to cry on and he finds himself being caught between two women.

During a game of squash, Murphy encourages Allen to call Keaton, as she seems to like him. They go to a double bill of Hiroshi Inagaki's Chushingura (1962) and Alexander Dovzhenko's Earth (1930) and emerge arguing on the street outside. Back at her apartment, Keaton tells Allen to stay away from her in the same way he entreats Hemingway to date guys her own age. But they kiss and soon become inseparable. Indeed, Allen becomes so besotted he can scarcely keep his eyes on the taxi meter. Consequently, he breaks up with Hemingway after she gives him a harmonica as a gift and she is so hurt by his betrayal that she starts to cry in the café. Allen strokes her cheek and neck and tries to convince her that she would be better off without him, but she is genuinely in love and can't understand why he would reject her for someone older.

Allen and Keaton become lovers and they even risk a double date with Byrne and Murphy, who is going through a midlife crisis and wants to buy a sports car. Throughout the concert, however, Murphy struggles to keep his eyes off Keaton and calls her to ask if they can resume their affair. She bumps into Shawn while out shopping and Allen is amazed that this `homunculus' could have been the love of her life. But they grow closer and even go away for the weekend in Murphy's new motor. However, this reminds Keaton of what she had with Murphy and they start seeing each other again. Allen is crushed and drags Murphy out of his classroom to accuse him of being a disloyal friend.

Throwing himself into his novel and spending more time with his son with Streep (whose book is going to be turned into a film), Allen tries to forget Keaton. But, when he meets up with Byrne, he confesses to missing Hemingway and she urges him to give her a call. He lies on the couch to dictate an idea for a short story and starts listing the things that make life worthwhile. One of them is Hemingway's face and he runs across the city to her building and arrives just as she is about to take a taxi to the airport to study in London. Allen implores her not to go and apologises for making a mistake in thinking he could live without her. But, showing much more maturity than he will ever muster, she tells him to have faith in people and they smile at each other, as the film ends with another wondrous blast of Gershwin and a sunset over the skyscrapers.

The depth of the debt of gratitude that cineastes owe to editor Susan Morse beccomes more evident with each viewing of this glorious city symphony, as her intervention prevented Allen from junking his masterpiece. It seems astonishing now that it only received Oscar nominations for Hemingway's supporting performance and the script Allen wrote with Marshall Brickman. But Allen's reputation has been irreparably tarnished in the intervening period and, clearly, some will feel uncomfortable with the May-December romance, which appears to borrow from Allen's brief liaison with 17 year-old Annie Hall extra Stacey Nelkin and 13 year-old pen pal, Nancy Jo Sales.

Indeed, even for die-hard Allenites, it isn't always easy to disconnect this picture from the subsequent scandals and unproven accusations. But it is possible to lose oneself in the shimmering gloss of Gordon Willis's imagery (which was photographed in Panavision on Technicolor stock that was printed in monochrome) and the richness of Zubin Mehta and the New York Philharmonic's interpretation of such sublime Gershwin as `Rhapsody in Blue', `Someone to Watch Over Me', `Lady Be Good', `He Loves, and She Loves' and `Embraceable You'. And then there's `Not for Me', `Sweet and Lowdown', `I Got a Crush on You', `S Wonderful', `Do Do Do' and `Strike Up the Band'. If you don't revisit the film, you have to buy the soundtrack.

The lampoon of the empty decadence and shallow sophistication of the chattering classes also emerges unscathed, particularly because Hemingway embodies the energy, excitement and enthusiasm that Allen's jaded journeyman has allowed to seep out of his existence. Thus, Allen loves the teenager for her sense of wonder above anything else and there is something inescapably touching about her closing exhortation to rediscover his faith in humanity. Perhaps this is the real reason why Allen wanted the film suppressed. He wasn't so much troubled by the gnawing despair that he could do better. Maybe this intensely private man had simply realised that he had revealed a good deal more about himself than he had intended.

Many will have passed a happy holiday hour in Blackpool, with those of us with grandparents from Preesall knowing the Tower, the Illuminations and the Golden Mile better than most. And let's not forget the mushy peas and all those beakers of Horlicks before playing table football on the Central Pier. Yet, the nations favourite seaside resort has been used sparingly by film-makers since the silent days of Maurice Elvey's Hindle Wakes (1927) and Hans Steinhoff's The Three Kings (1929). Music-hall stars held the spotlight in Lupino Lane''s No Lady (1931) and Basil Dean's Sing As We Go (1934), but noirish shadows fell over such postwar thrillers as Alfred Travers's Dual Alibi (1947) and George King's Forbidden (1949) before the smiles returned with the likes of Gurinder Chadha's Bhaji on the Beach (1993), Peter Chelsom's Funny Bones (1995), John Duigan's The Parole Officer (2001) and Steve Bendelack's The Harry Hill Movie (2013). And the latest to join this select, if hardly stellar list is David Blair's Away.

Fleeing abusive pimp boyfriend Matt Ryan with a stash of his cash and drugs, teenager Juno Temple spots the dozing Timothy Spall on the train to Blackpool, where she plans to lay low until she can sell on her merchandise. Leaving sister Hayley Squires a message to join her, Temple discovers Spall living in the same hotel and saves him from a half-hearted attempt to overdose on pills. The death of his beloved wife had also prompted him to douse himself with petrol, but he had decided to flee to the Fylde coast rather than strike a match.

Peeved with Temple for following him to a pub, Spall informs her that he doesn't need a minder. But she accompanies him on an open-top tram tour of the Illuminations before seeing him safely to his room. Looking across to a drunken couple having a shoving argument on the promenade, Temple recalls how Ryan had rescued her from some thugs when she was sleeping rough and how he had moved her into his much-lamented mother's flat, which was filled with colourful birds that were allowed to fly outside their cages.

The following morning, Temple finds Spall out cold in his doorway and she helps him up and follows him to a café for tea. He reiterates his desire to be left alone, but she tags along as he walks to the Tower. Much to her surprise, he tells her lots of facts about its construction and makes her smile by putting on an exaggerated walk. As they walk past the Mirror Ball, Ryan tracks down Squires a recovering junkie who had already betrayed her sister in the past. Ryan had pounced on Temple in a pub bathroom and was threatening her when Spall had wandered in. He had spotted Ryan's gun and had dared him to shoot. Fazed by someone approaching him so fearlessly, Ryan had taken his eye off Temple, who had found a knife in his bag and had stabbed him in the leg. Spall had grabbed the gun and they had made their getaway on the train to the coast.

Even though she had been packing to catch the train, Squires tries to pretend she has no idea where Temple has gone. But Ryan calls the last number on her mobile and a couple of passing holiday-makers had revealed their whereabouts. Furious with Squires for messing him around, Ryan throws hot tea in her face and leaves her with a packet of heroin to keep her out of his hair while he tracks down her sibling.

Daydreaming of happier times with wife Joanna Roth, Spall lets Temple talk him into going to the top of the Tower. Terrified of heights, he stays in the centre of the viewing platform and tuts when Temple yawns at the revelation that you can see Southport on a clear day. She guesses he is 70 and still dismisses him as old when he insists he is only 57. He tells her that his wife died childless of Hodgkin's Disease and Temple suggests that he calls out to Roth because this is the closest he will ever get to her. Spall is embarrassed by her bellowing, however, and ticks her off for claiming her mother's death was the best thing that ever happened to her. But Temple has had a tough life and has hardly made things any easier for herself by letting Ryan's birds escape before stealing his stuff.

Temple and Spall go to the aquarium, where she tells him about finding sanctuary with a neighbour from her mother's addled binges. She had never forgiven for giving away her precious collection of children's books and felt nothing when she died, even though it meant she was placed in care. After a few years, she ran away and felt Ryan was her knight in shining armour. However, he exploited her and she now regards Spall as her hero. He refuses her gratitude and affection, but he does let her use his phone to call Squires and she tells Temple that Ryan is on her tail. Needing back-up to cut a deal with local punk Reece Noi and his boss, Susan Lynch, Temple asks Spall to help her. But he refuses to go with her and blurts out that he doesn't care what happens to her.

While Spall drinks in a bar and Ryan drives north on the motorway, Temple finds herself in a brightly lit fairytale grotto and feels disorientated. She slumps outside Spall's hotel room and he tucks her up for the night, although she dreams of Ryan pimping her out in their bed. When she wakes in the morning, however, she has no idea that Spall has assisted her and sets off for her appointment with Lynch after giving him a withering look in the corridor. Spall follows Temple to a seedy squat in an abandoned B&B and, thinking she is walking into trouble, uses Ryan's gun to steer her back into the street, just as she was about to be paid £3000 for the stolen stash.

Sitting on a bench on the prom, Spall apologises for misreading the situation and walks away when Temple mocks him for trying to be a hero. He leaves the gun behind and she puts it in her pocket before huddling under the pier. She thinks back to the day she had found Squires covered in bruises and had gone round to Ryan's flat and had seen video footage of Squires being sold to a client. In fury, Temple had smashed up the room, released the birds and stolen the drugs. But, now, she is scared and is relieved when a clean-shaven Spall knocks on her door and asks to talk.

He tells her that he is going to Hell and she explains she will be there with him because she led Squires into drugs after meeting her in a care home. But, when she got clean, she couldn't save Squires and feels guilty for ruining her life. However, Spall has a confession of his own, as he had smothered Roth to put her out of her misery and then been too afraid to kill himself. Instead, he had gone to the pub to get drunk and had seen Temple trying to sell Ryan's gear to landlord Tony Pitts. But he had called Ryan and Spall had watched him bundle her into the bathroom at gunpoint after she had pulled the pistol on him and he had wrapped his mouth around the barrel in contempt. He had hoped that Ryan would shoot him, but he had ended up in Blackpool with a waif with a cut lip and a bruised cheek.

Having spotted a dinner jacket and a ballgown in a charity shop window, Spall takes Temple dancing in the room where he used to waltz with Roth. As Temple gets used to the steps, the camera cuts away to the Tower Ballroom to show the pair gliding alone across the polished floor with the house lights revealing the palatial grandeur of the setting. Back on the street, Temple coaxes Spall into taking a spin on the big dipper and he gives her Roth's engagement ring on a chain and the key to his house. Ignoring her protests, he hopes that she can make the most of her fresh start.

Temple hugs him and is about to ask what he intends to do when Ryan catches up with them. Leaving her dancing heels behind, they flee into a funfair. But Ryan corners them and stabs Spall in the shoulder when he tries to defend Temple. She pulls the gun from her bag and Spall implores her to be sensible He even suggests that she sells the house and uses the money to recompense Ryan. But he is in no mood to negotiate and takes Spall hostage with a blade to his throat. He orders Temple to drop the gun and sneers that she is as obedient as a house-trained pet. So, Spall urges her to pick up the weapon and shoot him so that they can both be free. She does so and kneels beside Spall as he thanks her for releasing him from his torment. He tells her to escape while she can and she hears a shot ring out in the twinkling darkness.

As the film ends, Temple watches Roth's body being removed from the house and looks nervously around the respectable neighbourhood. However, the final image of her paddling in the Irish Sea with Squires suggests that she sells up rather than settling into suburbia. But such is the melodramatic nature of debuting writer Roger Hadfield's scenario that few will be bothered what their future holds. This is a shame, as until the denouement descends into soap operatics, this more than holds the attention and invites sympathy for Temple in a way that Bryn Higgins didn't always manage to do for Agyness Deyn in Electricity (2014), which feels much closer in tone than Mike Figgis's Leaving Las Vegas (1995), which has been unpersuasively cited by a clutch of critics.

Spall and Temple establish a credible chemistry that makes for fascinating comparison with Allen and Hemingway in Manhattan. But the fussiness of the contrivedly flashbacking structure makes some of their leaps of faith feel a little forced. The same is true of the sequences in which Temple pops on headphones to hear glutinous tracks by Indiana and Daughter comment on her situation. Yet, coming a week after his imposing impersonation of Ian Paisley in Nick Hamm's The Journey, this confirms Spall's status as one of Britain's finest screen actors. Temple also shows to fine advantage, as cinematographer Felix Wiedemann captures the Lancashire sunlight in her eyes and hair. He also conveys Blackpool's shabby splendour and the extent to which its creeping decay has attracted those seeking to exploit people's misery rather than their leisure. But the cornball B-movie ending resounds with a hollow clang.

After 12 years working as a second unit director for Joe Wright on Pride and Prejudice (2005), Atonement (2007), The Soloist (2009), Anna Karenina (2012), Pan (2015) and Darkest Hour (2017), Thomas Napper has made the step up to principal director with Jawbone, a London boxing saga that has been written and produced by its star, Johnny Harris. With big-budget Hollywood outings like Rob Marshall's Into the Woods (2014) and Mary Poppins Returns (2018) and Bill Condon's lauded live-action reworking of Disney's Beauty and the Beast (2017) also on his CV, Napper is clearly not ready to give up the day job just yet. But, while this debut may not offer many fresh insights into the fight game, it follows Juho Kuosmanen's The Happiest Day in the Life of Olli Mäki and Ludwig and Paul Shammasian's The Pyramid Texts in suggesting that its maker is a talent to watch.

Half a lifetime ago, Johnny Harris was a 16 year-old amateur boxing champion. Now, he faces eviction from the Lambeth flat he shared with his recently deceased mother and spends a night in the cells after he kicks off at Jackie Clune's council housing office. Drinking heavily and fast running out of options, he returns to the Union Street Gym owned by his old friend, Ray Winstone. He is surprised to see Harris skulking in a dark corner and takes him into the changing-room to issue an ultimatum that he will turf him out on his ear if he so much as smells alcohol on his breath. Northern Irish cornerman Michael Smiley is less welcoming, as Harris blows hard at the end of his first training session. But boxing is the sport of redemption and he goes along with Winstone's decision to give the washed-up palooka a second chance.

Returning to find his home boarded up, Harris looks out at the tenement estate that has been earmarked for demolition and fights back the pain of dimmed memories and a sense of being discarded by society as a whole. Needing somewhere to sleep, he climbs on to the roof of the gym south of the Thames and hunkers down for the night. He slips out of a boarded window before Winstrone and Smiley arrive and puts in another day's gruelling training, while watching Winstone put a group of young hopefuls through their paces in the ring.

Needing quick cash, Harris ignores Winstone's warning about getting involved in unlicensed bouts and cadges a pound coin off a passer-by to contact seedy promoter Ian McShane about setting him up with a lucrative payday. At the gym. Winstrone forces Harris to spar with a promising fighter to make him see how out of condition he has become. But, having no other way of making a living, Harris keeps his appointment with McShane at a swanky restaurant. His host orders him a steak and asks Harris how his is coping with the loss of his mum. He remembers his youthful talent and regrets that things didn't quite work out. But McShane also agrees to arrange for Harris to fight an unbeaten northern bruiser in an unsanctioned bout and gives him a few weeks to prepare.

Pathetically grateful, the well-mannered and softly spoken Harris asks for a sub and immediately buys a bottle of vodka. Instead of succumbing to temptation, however, he hides the hooch in a hole in the Embankment wall and goes to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. He sits in silence as the charity's rubric is read out and decides against introducing himself to the group. But he has taken the first step and he returns to the gym feeling more positive than he has done in months.

Unfortunately, Winstone catches him breaking in through the window. But, rather than giving him a rollicking, Winstone makes a brew and confides that he only has a few weeks left to live. He plans to spend them with his wife, but wants Harris to know that he has entrusted the gym to Smiley and he hopes that Harris will allow the abrasive Ulsterman to train him for the big fight (which he knows all about because nothing gets past him on the grapevine). Once again, Harris feels deeply indebted and goes for an early morning run to try and clear his head.

On returning to the gym, he finds Smiley opening up. He warns Harris that he wants no nonsense, as his opponent has the punching power to send him to the morgue. Aware he has to focus if he is to avoid serious injury, Harris promises to knuckle down. But Smiley is a tough taskmaster and the pair get into a shouting match after a punishing sparring session and everyone looks on in amazement as the two friends (each one pained by the prospect of losing Winstone) trade playground insults. However, the showdown has the desired effect, as Harris shaves his head and puts himself through an exhausting training montage that leaves him ready by the time he sits in sullen silence with Smiley on the train north.

Determined to honour Winstone's memory, Harris shows no fear as he changes for the bout under the intimidating gaze of opponent Luke J.I. Smith's second. He ignores the howls of the partisan crowd as he makes his way to the ring and is given his final instructions by the referee. As the bell sounds for Round 1, Harris realises that Smith has strength and speed. But he survives the initial onslaught and tries to take in Smiley's instructions, as he works on the cuts and bruises that are already appearing around his eyes. He hits the canvas, but struggles back to his feet and clings on with the baying of Smith's supporters adding to his sense of disorientation.

Smiley assures him that Harris that he is still in the fight and that the kid is so used to winning easily that he will be found wanting when his stamina is tested. Somehow, his words prove prophetic and Harris lands a blow that ends Smith's night. As the referee completes the count, Harris is in such a daze that he almost sleepwalks as Smiley steers him back towards the changing-room. Yet, even though he triumphs, little has changed, as he has only pocketed £2500 for an illegal fight that seems unlikely to put him on the road to a meaningful comeback. However, as he mourns at Winstone's funeral and declares his presence at his next AA meeting, Harris has rediscovered his pride and self-respect and he is on the way to retaking control of his destiny.

Underdog pugs have been a fixture in films since the early silent days and Harris's Skid Row contender evokes memories of Wallace Beery in King Vidor's The Champ (1931) and Robert Ryan in Robert Wise's The Set-Up (1949), as well as more modern anti-heroes like Sylvester Stallone in John G. Avildsen's Rocky (1976) and Mickey Rourke in Darren Aronofsky's The Wrestler (2008). But, while the story (which takes its title from the spiritual impetus given to Samson's exploits in the Book of Judges) may lack novelty and opens with a tedious Loachian swipe at the uncaring system, Harris brings a touching integrity to his performance that prompts Winstone, McShane and Smiley to up their game and breathe new life into what are essentially caricatures.

Napper also responds to the challenge of putting a fresh spin on the genre-defining ploys contained in Martin Scorsese's Raging Bull playbook by having cinematographer Tat Radcliffe alter the shutter speed of his low-level, handheld close-ups to allow editor David Charap to bring a bruising viscerality to Barry and Shane McGuigan's fight choreography. Jerome McCann's sound mix adds to the sickening immediacy of the boxing sequences, as does Scarlett O'Connell's effects make-up. Moreover, in composing his first film score, Paul Weller also makes unsettling use of jagged cello and distorted guitar riffs, as well as some pounding percussion, to capture the dislocated nature of Harris's psyche and the unforgiving brutality of a world we've seen before many times, but all too rarely from a perspective of such raw sincerity.

British realism is so citycentric that we should be grateful when a film tackling on rural issues reaches the schedule. But, while it contains echoes of such fine outings as Andrew Kötting's This Filthy Earth (2001) and Ben Hopkins's Better Things (2008), Hope Dickson Leach's first feature, The Levelling, feels more like a compendium of Archers scenarios than an authentic snapshot of country life. It doesn't help that there has been a clutch of bovine movies in recent times, including Imam Hasanov's Holy Cow (2015) and such documentaries as Peter Gerderhag's Women With Cows (2011) and Andy Heathcote and Heike Bachelier's The Moo Man (2013). But what makes this tale of parental tension, grief and domestic dysfunction all the more disappointing is that Dickson Leach had explored these theme so much more effectively in wonderful shorts like Cavities (2004), The Dawn Chorus (2006) and Morning Echo (2009) before she took some time away from film-making to have a family.

At the end of a wild party on father David Troughton's farm on the Somerset Levels, Joe Blakemore dies of gunshot wounds and vet sister Ellie Kendrick returns home for the first time in several years for the funeral. Troughton has been forced to live in a caravan since his land flooded and the insurance company refused to pay out. So, he is pleased to see Kendrick, who is driven to the morgue see her brother's body by old friend, Jack Holden. She throws up en route on learning that Blakemore blew his face off in the downstairs toilet and returns to lecture Troughton for locking Milo the dog in an outhouse. Unconcerned, Troughton enlists Kendrick's help in milking the cows and she sullenly follows his instructions before crashing in her old room (which hasn't changed since she last slept in it) rather than sharing the caravan.

The following morning, Kendrick scoots Milo out of the loo (with its blood-spattered wall) before joining Troughton in the yard. He is expecting a buyer for half of his herd and is surprised to learn that Blakemore cancelled the appointment without telling him. While he shows some local labourers a plot that needs digging, Kendrick deals with the policeman who returns Blakemore's rifle and lets slip that the coroner's verdict is likely to be suicide. As Troughton had insisted that his son had died in a tragic accident, Kendrick is furious with him for refusing to face up to the truth. She is even more angry when she finds badgers buried in a ditch. But Troughton blames Blakemore for shooting them and not burning them, as they could get into trouble for killing the animals with the threat of Bovine TB hanging over the area.

Needing to find some documents pertaining to the sale of his cows, Troughton goes into the loft. He admits that he left the army with some reluctance to take over his father's farm and suggests that Kendrick would have made a better heir than her brother. But she accuses him of driving her away when she was 18, after sending her to boarding school. She also curses him for refusing to let her come home for her mother's funeral, but Troughton says he was trying to protect her and teach her the valuable lesson that life goes on and that nothing can be gained from over-thinking things. Although still annoyed with him, Kendrick extends a hand to pull her father out of his chair and, as stubborn as each other, they go downstairs.

Having cleaned the crime scene, Kendrick mucks in with the milking before taking a walk. She returns to find kindly neighbour Angela Curran dropping off some food and Troughton and Holden tease Kendrick about being vegetarian as they tuck into some shepherd's pie. But Holden loses patience with her when she quizzes him about the party while they are digging the ditch. He asks why she stayed away after the floods and reveals that the fields have been ruined by the waters and the detritus they deposited. When she protests that Blakemore had reassured her that he could manage, Holden accuses her of always wanting the farm for herself and hopes that she is pleased with the way things have turned out.

Kendrick and Troughton meet with vicar Clare Burt to plan the funeral. But Kendrick gets flustered when Burt suggests that she feels guilty about her brother's suicide and she snaps that she has no regrets as she was nowhere near the farm when Blakemore shot himself. But her emotions come pouring out when Milo falls into a swampy pool while chasing a stick and Kendrick has to jump into the filthy water to rescue him.

Refusing to let herself brood, Kendrick makes a start on cleaning the flood damage to the farmhouse. She is surprised to find petrol cans in the kitchen, but Troughton is in no mood to discuss anything, as he guzzles scotch instead of lunch. When she asks about what he will do after the funeral, he tuts that he will make the best of things and doesn't expect her to stay, as she has always put her own ambitions first. Before she can argue, Holden rushes in to say one of the cows is in labour. But she has a male calf and Kendrick is dismayed when Troughton orders her to cull it because it has no monetary value. She struggles in slow-motion to make the animal lie down and staggers into the courtyard after a loud off-screen bang. Aware she has killed a male child with the gun used by her brother, she places the cadaver in a wheelbarrow and uses petrol to incinerate it.

That night, she invites Holden over and walks him into the house carrying a lighted torch. He begs her not to go into the kitchen and comes clean about Blakemore's plan to start a fire and claim on the insurance money. They had argued and Holden had found the body after seeing Blakemore having a heated discussion with Troughton. Urging Holden not to blame himself, Kendrick confronts her father about what was said before Blakemore died. But he orders her out of the room when she accuses him of burying his wife and son without a second thought and they are still barely on speaking terms the next morning when a truck comes to collect the cattle. Kendrick is confused, but Troughton reveals that Blakemore had discovered the herd was infected and had shot himself on realising that they were ruined.

On the morning of the funeral, Kendrick comes downstairs to find Troughton asking why she stayed away when they needed her. She bursts into tears in regret at keeping her distance, but is confused when Troughton implies that he stopped Blakemore calling her for advice on the night of the party, as he wanted him to be a man and stand on his own two feet. They are interrupted by Curran knocking to show them the flowers for the church and Troughton exploits the distraction to grab the rifle from the farmhouse and start shooting the remaining cattle in the field. As the rain begins to pour, Kendrick edges towards Troughton in her funeral dress and pleads with him to stop, as she is going to come home and they can save the farm together. He clings to her and they collapse together into the mud.

Elemental imagery abounds in this considered, if rarely involving drama. After spending so long trying to keep their heads above water, it's bitingly ironic that Troughton and Blakemore should see their livelihood swept away by floods and that the latter's death should finally unleash the tears of reconciliation between Kendrick and her father. Fire also plays a key role in proceedings, as Blakemore had been walking on hot coals at the party before he hit upon the misguided idea of burning down the farmhouse. But Kendrick returns to light a way through the gloom that has driven Troughton to drink and one is left to suspect that their shared gift for competency and hard work will enable them to turn a corner.

Troughton (who, of course, plays Tony Archer in the long-running Radio Four soap) seems more at home on the farm than Kendrick, who will be best known to many for her work in Game of Thrones. But each deserves praise for eschewing easy empathy, while the fact that neither is entirely blameless for either their estrangement or the problems facing Blakemore and the farm shows a good deal of dramatic maturity on Dickson Leach's part. Her decision to leave certain aspects of the family history shrouded is also well judged, as are the stylised interludes of a hare and some cattle swimming and wading through the waters that submerged the Levels in 2013-14. But details like Kendrick being a vegetarian who calls her father by his first name and Troughton using chauvinist language when he is fully aware of his wife and daughter's farming talents feel as forced as the inclusion of quite so many agricultural hot topics. Hutch Demouilpied's unsettling score also seems somewhat unsuited. But Nanu Segal's photography, Sarah Finley's production design and Ben Baird's soundscapes reinforce the exceptional sense of place that makes living off the land as arduous and precarious as it is rewarding.

Heading into London, Dochouse reflects on the Syrian conflict in Obaidah Zytoon and Andreas Dalsgaard's The War Show, which follows Emad Burnat and Guy Davidi's 5 Broken Cameras (2011) and Zaradasht Ahmed and Nori Sharif's Nowhere to Hide (2016) in using camcorder footage to piece together a record of life in a powder keg. Whereas its predecessors respectively focused on the West Bank in and the eastern Iraqi city of Jalawa, this mosaic centres on Damascus between 2011-13 to show how a radio DJ and her friends find themselves at the heart of an increasingly barbaric upheaval. More personal, but less harrowing than Silvered Water, Syria Self-Portrait (2014), Ossama Mohammed and Wiam Simav Bedirxan's gritty account of the battle for Homs, this offers an intriguing insight into how the euphoria of the Arab Spring turned to dread, as warring factions started to tear the country apart.

Dividing the documentary into seven parts - headed Revolution, Suppression, Resistance, Siege, Memories, Frontline and Extremism - Dalsgaard shows Obaidah Zytoon playing rock on her radio show before she joins her friends in covering her head and face to demonstrate on the streets against Bashar al-Assad. She is taken by the uncovered honesty of the tweenage Nawarah, who joyously confides to Zytoons camera, `I'm not demonstrating to be suffocated. I'm demonstrating to breathe.' But she silences Zytoon when she says she would die for the cause because God would not be able to refuse her anything after her hard life.

Among those inspired to rebel by Zaytoon's radio show were 19 year-old Amal, who is seen demonstrating in the city of Zabadani. She forms part of a group to document the uprising, with architecture student Houssam being tasked with editing the footage they gather. He has been an activist for a few years and thinks that the 40-year silence imposed by the Assad clan is finally about to end. He is willing to go to prison to bring an end to the dismal living conditions and the fear imposed by the secret police. Poet Hisham and his law student girlfriend Lulu are also determined to be seen on the frontline, with the latter dispensing with her veil to protest on the streets before letting Hisham bury her in the sand during a day trip to the seaside.

Although she filmed one pro-Assad rally, Zaytoon is primarily concerned with the rebels and records the funerals of those who have been martyred by the security forces, whose resort to violence is chronicled from a balcony overlooking a street protest. Hailing from her hometown of Zabadani (where Cain slew Abel), Rabea is the embodiment of the cause, as he is a rock drummer who had been arrested in a crackdown on heavy metal in the 1990s. She loves his can-do spirit, which is shared by Argha, a dentistry student who became a member of the cabal through his friendship with Hisham and Houssam, and Fifi, a white terrier who had been abandoned when her owners fled the chaos.

During a flash mob protest in the Midan district, Amal is arrested after Zaytoon takes cover in a clothing shop. Fortunately, she was released the next day, but the incident brings home the immediacy of the struggle. Similarly, when Amal accompanies Zaytoon to Zabadani, they witness a man being shot on the streets and Dalsgaard cuts to video footage of a young girl (whose face has been pixellated) holding up a photograph of the uncle who was martyred during a demonstration. A man recently released from prison describes the beatings he endured and his bold plea to the judge who let him go that it was impossible for a Syrian to define `freedom' because no one had tasted it.

As 2011 draws to a close, three rebels are killed in their car and the Assad regime was accused of murdering them. Mass demonstrations took place, but Zaytoon reveals that the trio were accidentally killed by their own bomb and laments that truth is the first casualty of any conflict. But, by spinning the story to their own advantage, the protest leaders were able to rally their supporters and demonise the detested regime. As a consequence, Assad forces were driven from the town using weapons smuggled by Hezbollah and, such was the sense of unity against the president, that many Muslims celebrated Christmas with their Christian neighbours.

Shortly after New Year, Zaytoon travelled to Homs, which was considered the cradle of the revolution. They sneak in through a rebel checkpoint and are warned by their minders to hide their cameras and phones, as there are snipers everywhere. She meets soldiers who had defected because they refused to fire on the protesters, while several men are keen to show her the scars left by interrogation and torture. But, while she admires the heroism of the resistance, Zaytoon is appalled by the government's bid to starve Homs into submission and she denounces the tactic as medieval. She is even more horrified by the neck wound suffered by a small girl whose life was saved by the fast thinking of her father. However, many families lost loved ones and Zaytoon visits a woman who is looking after her grandchildren after two of her sons left for work and never returned.

The courage of these people under daily bombardment from Assad's forces is as palpable as their rage and despair. But what dismays them most is that the state media lies about their plight and, thus, citizen journalism is key to letting the world know what is going on. However, the intensity of the situation seems to unsettle Zaytoon and Dalsgaard and they cut away to memories of a happier time when the gang took a trip to Kassab in Latakia Province in the summer of 2011. They are close to the Turkish border and Hassoum bestrides the line and jokes about having one testicle in each country. In a cave by the beach, Rabea recalls getting stoned with hot girls from Damascus, while Lulu curses her pyjamas getting singed by the bonfire. But a return trip came to seem like a turning point for the friends, as Fifi was killed by a car. Shortly afterwards, Rabea was found dead in his vehicle with part of his forehead shot away and the authorities outlawed his funeral.

Then, just after Lulu's neighbourhood was attacked, Hisham was kidnapped at a checkpoint and Argha was arrested. Army Intelligence also raided Houssam's flat and he decided to give himself up for questioning to spare his family. Eleven days later, however, they were summoned to the notorious military hospital 601 to collect his body. His parents were forced to sign a document stating that he was a terrorist whose corpse had been found in the opposition stronghold of Jobar. But, over a montage of stills of this gentle soul, Zaytoon describes how his fingernails were removed and his skin was removed from parts of his torso. Moreover, some of his facial injuries were so disfiguring that it was difficult to recognise him.

Following this sobering litany, Zaytoon films a young boy playing with his father's semi-automatic rifle in the house, as his mother explains how a sniper shoots at women queuing for bread. Outside, a father teaches his tweenage son how to shoot and he takes aim at a target chalked on to a wall across the road. A couple pass on a motorbike just before he fired, but people seem to be accustomed to the danger and even joke that they miss the sound of gunfire when it falls silent. One boy cheers at a volley of shots in the near distance, even though his cousin has only just been killed feeding the pigeons on the roof of the family home.

Such testimony is shocking, but it's presented without a context. It's only after we see kids playing at shootouts amidst some burnt-out cars that a caption identifies the town of Saraqeb in Idlib Province in the summer of 2012. Zaytoon accompanies a patrol, as a middle-aged man urges America and Euopre to support them. But Zaytoon discovers that some groups were staging actions for news cameras and being paid for the footage that could be used on bulletins across the world. Her own escorts agree to fire another shell after she fails to capture the first one and its seems there is a good deal of macho posturing going on when a hothead in shades and combat gear named Ali Hussein ignores his comrades and fires at a government helicopter even though they are in a built-up area with lots of children in the nearby houses.

She interviews Hasan, who has left a good job in Crete to fight for the Free Syrian Army. He tells her that the regime had paid thugs to try and kidnap his children, but he had been too smart for them. Zaytoon asks about his nine years in Greece and he admits to missing the sea, but felt duty-bound to help overthrow Assad. But, as she films Hasan and his pals playing volleyball after darkness falls, she reveals that warlords and arms dealers hijacked a noble fight and sought to profit from Syria's woes. Over posed groups of armed insurgents, she laments that the ordinary people seem to have been forgotten as the conflict intensifies.

As she reaches her final chapter in February 2013, Zaytoon goes to Afamia to meet with members of the local council. They insist the younger generation has been duped by extremists who exploit their superficial understanding of Islam, just as Assad appeals to the West for assistance in fighting fundamentalists who could pose a future threat to the wider world unless they are stopped here and now. She remeets Hasan, who is now a sniper and he shows off for the camera while out on patrol by scaling the wall of a tenement building. Zaytoon explains that Waw al-Wasel has once been a peaceful protest group, but is now on the frontline.

When Hasan goes on a mission, Zaytoon travels in his car. But the attack is abandoned amidst some confusion and she informs the audience that al-Qaeda issued an order that day for black flags to be raised in liberated towns. However, for those not au fait with the chronology of the conflict or the standpoints of its participating groups, such revelations are merely baffling (even though they add to the sense of confusion that suffuses the entire civil war). She joins media official Raed al-Fares in the square in Kafranbel, as a protest in favour of a secular state comes face to face with those demanding a caliphate. Some find the exchange of chanted slogans amusing, while others criticise Islamic states and the West for allowing the extremists to secure a foothold. But, as Zaytoon states, Assad lumps both sides together and brands them terrorists and released hundreds of fundamentalists from prison and sought to discredit the secular revolution by blaming them for the violence perpetrated by those associated with such groups as Isis.

Back in Saraqeb, Zaytoon's allies issue a booklet containing words of peace from Jesus and Mohammed. But this leads to an extremist backlash and Zaytoon is dismayed to find Hasan among those denouncing her. She reports that she managed to escape the town and later learned that Hasan had been assassinated by a masked gunman. As she films treasure hunters at the heritage site at Afamia and stray dogs feeding on the carcasses of slaughtered sheep, Zaytoon deplores the fact her homeland has returned to the feuds and methods of the Middle Ages and concedes that there seems no end in sight to the madness.

In an epilogue, Zaytoon follow a montage of images showing aerial bombing raids, refugee convoys and boatloads of migrants with footage of Zaytoon in the Turkish city of Antakya. She reveals that Argha and Hisham are among the thousands who have disappeared in Syrian jails. By contrast, Amal went to stay with her family in Istanbul, while Lulu spent three years recovering from post-combat trauma in Jordan before fleeing to Turkey, where she sailed to the European mainland in a rubber dinghy in the hope of being granted asylum. When a photographer got inside one of Assad's detention centres and took hundreds of pictures of the dead, Lulu was able to identify Hisham. But Argha managed to survive and reunited with Zaytoon in Turkey. She plants seeds with Amal and Lulu and hopes that a century-long struggle will one day come to an end.

Closing captions state that Zabadani was besieged by pro-Assad forces for three years before its liberation in 2016, while much of Homs was destroyed before the remaining rebels and residents were escorted to safety. However, Kafranbel is now under the control of Jabhat Fatah al-Sham, a jihadist organisation linked to the al-Nusra band that had draped black flags over the town square. Moreover, since the middle of that year, 400,000 have lost their lives in Syria, while 11 million (half the pre-war population) has been displaced. Furthermore, since June 2011, 500,000 had been imprisoned and 60,000 of them had perished as a result of torture or inhumane treatment.

Such statistics are devastating and should drive home the horror of the Syrian catastrophe. But, while Zaytoon unflinchingly conveys the toll that the conflict has taken on her own circle, this fragmentary survey (which has been compiled by editor Adam Nielsen from over 300 hours of footage) makes far too few compromises towards those without a detailed knowledge of the country, its political geography its ethno-religious make-up and the events that tipped it over the edge. The chapter headings could have done much to rectify this situation, with brief background captions alerting viewers to the significance of what they are about to see.

Nevertheless, bearing in mind how frequently snipers target those filming on street level, Zaytoon and fellow camera operators Dama Bakdounes, Amr Kheito, Hisham Issa, Wasim Anonymous and Lars Skree can only be lauded for the courage they display in risking their lives in war zones in order to reclaim the truth from propagandists on all sides. Given that she is a woman, Zaytoon's intrepidity is all the more remarkable, particularly when she stands her ground in the presence of fundamentalists whose factionalism she exposes while maintaining her objectivity.

What's perhaps most intriguing about her footage, however, is the way it exposes the macho posturing of the boys and men who are fully aware of the value of an heroic image. Indeed, some of the incidents that Zaytoon records only occur because she is there to film them. But the ones that hit hardest are those that take place away from her camera and claim those she had come to regard as family. As they are spoken during one of the carefree 2011 sequences, the words, `we'll all be dead by then,' strike a jarring note. But their poignancy hits home long before the revelation of the horrendous casualty figures.

Finally, CinemaItaliaUK returns this weekend with Toni Trupia's documentary, Ero Malerba/Once I Was Malerba, which profiles Giuseppe Grassonelli, the onetime Mafia assassin who is currently serving a life sentence and who caused a scandal in 2014 when his autobiography won the prestigious Sciascia-Racalmare prize, which was named in honour of Leonardo Sciascia, a writer who had courageously chronicled and challenged the Cosa Nostra prior to his death in 1989. As the opening news report reveals, he was involved in a turf battle in the town of Montallegro in the Agrigento region of Sicily on 21 September 1986. Initially, two members of the Messina clan were killed before brutal revenge was exacted in Porto Empedocle, as four leaders of the Grassonelli were gunned down at the Albanese café, along with two innocent bystanders. Giuseppe Grassonelli was 26 years old at the time and, as journalist Carmelo Sardo soon discovered, he had packed a good deal into his short life.

Siblings Annalisa, Carmelo and Nuccia remember Giuseppe as being a handsome young man who had no desire to work hard like his father. Mother Francesca Morreale recalls him being a rebel. But, as she stands in the family vault with her children, she admits that the last 30 years have been hard to bear. Journalist Gaetano Savaterri explains why this part of Sicily was a hotbed of gangland activity at a time of economic recession and avers that there will always be a cocky outside like Giuseppe's uncle, Gigi Grassonelli, who feels he can chance his arm and this is what brought about the bloodbath in Porto Empedocle.

Giuseppe refused to defend himself in court. But, after 22 years, he decided to contact Sardo and asked him to help tell his story. On camera, he states that he is willing to do his time, but wants it known that he thought at the time that the Mafia and the State were one and the same thing on Sicily and that he killed as much to survive as wreak revenge. He remembers that he had not been out of the army long before the massacre (although Sardo later tells us he was 14 when he fled into exile) and had spent the day on the beach with some family members. But if he had not wandered off with a girl he had fancied in the past, he would have been killed and he only just got away from the shooting at the Albanese café, as he had managed to hide behind a car after being wounded in the leg. He recognised the voice of the man conducting his pursuit and because Giufà had been a guest in his house, he would later have no qualms about killing him.

For those who have no idea who Giufà is or why this autumnal showdown was so crucial in the history of organised crime in this part of the island, such information is meaningless, even if it is being delivered to camera by someone recalling the murder of his uncle and a beloved grandfather who had seemingly nothing to do with his son's activities. But no further context is provided, as Giuseppe reveals that he had been too scared to tell the authorities what he had witnessed and had fled to Hamburg in what was still West Germany. Sardo follows in his footsteps and conducts an interview in the shadows with Giuseppes ex-fiancée, who says she didn't have a normal relationship with him because he was always preoccupied. She seems to have visited him once in Sicily, but the interviewee is so vague in her recollection that its difficult to know what point she is trying to make.

Following a cheesy Reeperbahn montage, Giuseppe confides that he had quite a time gambling in the port city and explains how he did everything he could to rig games to remove the element of chance. But he never felt entirely safe and he recalls seeing two strangers behaving oddly at one of his venues and he realised that they were there to ambush him. A couple of cutaways imply that these are Sergio Vecchia and Salvatore Albanese or agents thereof, but nothing is confirmed as Giuseppe explains how easy it was to kill the interlopers because his military mindset kicked in and he felt he was fighting for his family.

Sardo questions whether Giuseppe had options than to kill his enemies and whether he needed to form what amounted to the private army he called `La Stidda'. Deputy Prosecutor Vittorio Teresi remembers hearing this term and says it was a slur used by Cosa Nostra members for the lowlifes who had met in the San Vito prison in Agrigento and had decided to take on the big boys. But Giuseppe insists that many of his cohorts had been drummed out of the families and they were seeking to demonstrate the error of their expulsion. He is amused by the misapprehension that they were a tightly knit group, but Savaterri explains that they operated death squads that did favours for each other so that nobody had to kill on their own patch. But their reign of terror was short lived and came to an end in the early 1990s.

Suddenly, Trupia lurches back to Giuseppe reliving the July day when his crew ambushed and assassinated Giufà. We have still not been told who this man, but the satisfaction felt at watching him being shot in the head still glints in Giuseppe's eye as he relates his tale. Just as unexpectedly, Sardo fetches up in Porto Empedocle to tell us that Giuseppe had wanted to be a footballer when he was a kid. Curiously, Italia 90 was in full swing when local police were tipped off about a shooting in Vincenzella, which turned out to be Giufà and two of his relatives. Resembling Bob Dylan behind his shades, Sardo poses on the street where the incident took place. It's a preposterous affectation that distracts from the details of an already perplexingly assembled account.

Meanwhile, Giuseppe had turned his attention to Sergio Vecchia and Salvatore Albanese. As the former was unreachable behind bars, Giuseppe agreed to end a few simmering feuds in order to lure Albanese out of hiding. No sooner had he returned that he was dispatched. Carmelo and Annalisa say he acted because he was scared and had a miserable time between the deaths of his uncle and grandfather and his arrest. He admits to camera that he was uncertain what to do after he had exacted his revenge and felt it would only be a matter of time before the Cosa Nostra decided to punish him. So, he fell in with the State and hoped it would afford him protection.

Giuseppe explains that he spent three of his first 15 years in jail in solitary. But the experience changed him and philosopher Giuseppe Ferraro watches a recording of a tearful Giovanni Prinari introducing Giuseppe to describe how he has managed to turn his life around and graduate in Literature and Philosophy from the University of Naples Federico II. Ferraro tells Trupia that he has only ever met the man who wanted to do the right thing by his grandfather and not the cold-blooded killer. He also suggests that the sentence imposed upon Giuseppe denies him the chance to fulfil his burning ambition to give something back to society. Giuseppe warms to this theme before an invited audience at the launch of the novel he wrote with Sardo. He urges his hearers not to do anything that would jeopardise their freedom and his lament for the sea he misses so much is given added poignancy by the closing shots of his mother with her daughters and granddaughters on the beach.

Sardo closes by hoping that Giuseppe will one day be able to touch the water again and maybe swim into the distance. But Trupia ends the film with a couple of untranslated captions and footage of the family talking to `Pippo' on the phone. He chats to a young niece who may never have met him and frets that his mother is withholding bad news from him. But she reassures him that everything is fine before the pips go at the end of the call and the noise of a slamming cell door resounds on the soundtrack.

Presumably, those au fait with this tortuous period of Sicilian (criminal) history and the furore that attended the publication of Malerba will find this a compelling piece of personal testimony. But such is the way that Trupia approaches the subject that even those who have scouted around Google in the hope of finding some background articles that don't need to be translated from the Italian will be left scratching their heads by this punishingly obscurantist documentary. The rationale behind allowing Sardo to strut around like a rock star is baffling, but pales beside the decision to presume foreknowledge from a general audience. Given the access to the Grassonelli family, this could and should have been the definitive account of a tragic case. Instead, it stands as a woefully missed opportunity.