Culture Vulture: Your Weekly Viewing Guide
Welcome to this week’s edition of Culture Vulture, where we’ve selected the best films and series to stream and watch live on TV. Whether you’re in the mood for classic cinema, gripping drama, or a thought-provoking series, we’ve got you covered. Here’s your essential guide to what’s on from the 20th to the 26th of September. Selections and commentary are from Pat Harrington.
Saturday, 20th September 2025
Born Free (12:45 pm, Film 4)
A landmark in compassionate storytelling, Born Free remains one of the most tender and quietly radical films of its kind—a true-life tale that transcends genre to become a meditation on freedom, dignity, and the fragile trust between species. Released in 1966 and based on Joy Adamson’s memoir, the film follows the journey of Elsa, a lioness raised by humans and then released into the wild. What could have been a sentimental wildlife drama becomes, in the hands of director James Hill and stars Virginia McKenna and Bill Travers, a deeply humane and emotionally resonant portrait of ethical stewardship.
The cinematography is breathtaking, capturing the Kenyan landscape not as exotic backdrop but as living terrain—vast, indifferent, and beautiful. McKenna and Travers, real-life advocates for animal welfare, bring a quiet authenticity to their roles, and the film’s score by John Barry (yes, that John Barry) elevates the emotional arc without tipping into melodrama.
What makes Born Free endure isn’t just its heartwarming narrative, but its moral clarity. It asks us to reconsider our dominion over nature—not with guilt, but with grace. Elsa’s release is not a triumph of human benevolence, but a recognition of her right to live beyond our control. In an age of ecological precarity and performative conservation, Born Free still whispers a radical truth: that love, to be meaningful, must also let go.
The Railway Children (1:00 pm, BBC Two)
A cornerstone of British family cinema, The Railway Children (1970) is more than a nostalgic adaptation—it’s a masterclass in gentle storytelling, emotional restraint, and the quiet heroism of everyday life. Directed by Lionel Jeffries in his directorial debut, the film brings E. Nesbit’s 1906 novel to the screen with warmth, wit, and a deep reverence for childhood wonder.
After their father is mysteriously taken away, the Waterbury children—Bobbie, Phyllis, and Peter—move with their mother to a modest cottage near a rural railway station. What follows is a series of small but profound adventures: waving to passing trains, befriending the kindly station porter (played with charm by Bernard Cribbins), and slowly uncovering the truth behind their father’s disappearance. Jenny Agutter’s performance as Bobbie is quietly luminous, anchoring the film’s emotional core with grace and sincerity.
The Yorkshire countryside is rendered with painterly beauty, and the film’s pacing allows space for reflection, curiosity, and kindness. It’s a story that honours resilience without spectacle, and community without sentimentality. The red petticoat scene—used to stop an oncoming train—is iconic not just for its drama, but for what it says about courage, improvisation, and care.
For those who treasure British heritage, literary adaptations, and emotionally intelligent storytelling, The Railway Children remains a timeless watch.
Kindling (11:25 pm, BBC Two)
A quietly blistering debut from Connor O’Hara, Kindling is not just a drama—it’s a reckoning. Set over one final summer, the film follows Sid, a terminally ill young man, and his closest friends as they gather in their hometown to honour his life before it slips away. But this isn’t a story of passive mourning. It’s a ritual, a mission, a defiant act of legacy-building. Sid assigns each friend a theme—love, home, friends, family, location—and asks them to find an object that embodies it. These tokens become the kindling for a ceremonial fire, a symbolic release that’s part farewell, part resurrection.
What unfolds is a raw, emotionally charged meditation on masculinity, memory, and the fragile ways we hold each other. George Somner leads with aching vulnerability, supported by a cast that feels lived-in and unforced. The Suffolk and Essex landscapes offer more than backdrop—they breathe with the story, grounding its metaphysical weight in tactile, rural reality.
There’s no gloss here. Kindling is fresh in its structure, edgy in its emotional honesty, and unflinching in its portrayal of young men grappling with grief. It’s not for the faint-hearted, but it’s exactly for those who believe that storytelling can still burn with purpose.
Ravenous (1:30 am, Film 4)
A fever dream of frontier dread, Ravenous is that rare beast—a horror Western that doesn’t just flirt with genre conventions but devours them whole. Directed by Antonia Bird and starring Guy Pearce and Robert Carlyle, this 1999 cult classic unfolds in the icy Sierra Nevada during the Mexican–American War, where a remote military outpost becomes the stage for a grotesque tale of cannibalism, madness, and moral collapse.
The story centres on Captain John Boyd, a soldier whose cowardice earns him a transfer to Fort Spencer, a desolate posting where survival is already tenuous. Enter a stranger with a tale of stranded travellers resorting to unspeakable acts. What begins as a rescue mission quickly spirals into a nightmare of flesh and philosophy. The film draws on real-life horrors like the Donner Party and Alfred Packer, but its true bite lies in its allegory: hunger as a metaphor for Manifest Destiny, consumption as conquest.
Visually stark and sonically unsettling—thanks to a score by Damon Albarn and Michael Nyman that veers between whimsical and deranged—Ravenous is both grotesque and strangely elegant. It’s a film that asks not just what we’ll do to survive, but what survival costs. For late-night viewers with a taste for the offbeat and the unnerving, this is a dish best served cold—and with caution.
Britain’s Railway Empire in Colour (8:00 pm, Channel 4)
Part two of this richly evocative series continues its journey through the iron arteries of empire, using colourised archive footage to breathe new life into the locomotives that once powered Britain’s global reach. Where part one traced the birth and domestic boom of rail travel, this instalment shifts focus to the railway’s strategic and symbolic role across the Empire—from the monumental Trans-Australia Railway to the armoured trains of the Boer War.
It’s a compelling re-examination of how railways shaped not just commerce and connectivity, but colonial ambition and wartime logistics. We witness the railways’ role in mobilising troops across two World Wars, and the social upheaval that followed—women stepping into essential roles, communities reshaped by movement and mechanisation. The colourisation isn’t just aesthetic; it’s a narrative device, dissolving the distance between past and present, making these stories feel immediate and lived-in.
For viewers drawn to industrial heritage, imperial history, or the emotional resonance of archival storytelling, this is essential viewing. It’s not just about trains—it’s about power, progress, and the people caught in their wake
Queen: Is This the Real Life? (9:00 pm, Sky Arts)
A documentary that doesn’t just chart the rise of Queen—it immerses you in the myth, the music, and the emotional architecture of one of Britain’s most iconic bands. From the smoky clubs of the early ’70s to the global roar of Live Aid, this film traces Queen’s journey with rare footage, intimate interviews, and a reverence for the artistry that made them singular.
It’s not just about the hits—though they’re here, in all their operatic glory—but about the personalities behind them. Freddie Mercury’s flamboyance and vulnerability, Brian May’s quiet brilliance, Roger Taylor’s rhythmic backbone, and John Deacon’s understated presence all come into focus. The documentary doesn’t shy away from the band’s internal tensions, the pressures of fame, or the heartbreak of Freddie’s illness. Instead, it weaves these threads into a narrative of resilience, reinvention, and enduring legacy.
What elevates this beyond standard rock-doc fare is its emotional texture. We hear from those closest to the band—family, collaborators, and fellow legends—and see Queen not just as performers, but as people navigating extraordinary lives. For fans and newcomers alike, it’s a portrait of creativity, courage, and the alchemy of four musicians who dared to be different.
Queen Live at Wembley Stadium (10:10 pm, Sky Arts)
An unforgettable performance by Queen, filmed live at Wembley Stadium in 1986. A must-see for fans of one of the greatest rock bands of all time.
Queen: The Magic Years (12:40 am, Sky Arts)
This behind-the-scenes documentary is less a timeline and more a tapestry—woven from rare footage, candid interviews, and the electric pulse of a band that redefined rock. Queen: The Magic Years traces the group’s evolution from scrappy art-school outsiders to global icons, capturing not just the music but the alchemy that made it unforgettable.
Split into thematic segments, the film explores their early gigs, studio experimentation, and the theatricality that became their signature. We see the band offstage—laughing, arguing, creating—and begin to understand the delicate balance of personalities that powered their ascent. Freddie Mercury’s charisma is front and centre, but so too are Brian May’s meticulous arrangements, Roger Taylor’s rhythmic swagger, and John Deacon’s quiet genius.
What makes this documentary sing is its refusal to flatten Queen into legend. Instead, it revels in the contradictions: flamboyant yet precise, rebellious yet disciplined, outrageous yet deeply human. For night owls and music lovers alike, The Magic Years is a reminder that greatness isn’t just about talent—it’s about chemistry, courage, and the refusal to be ordinary.
Sunday, 21st September 2025
Kind Hearts and Coronets (11:00 am, Film4)
A masterwork of British black comedy, Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949) is as elegant as it is merciless—a satire so refined it practically curtsies before delivering its fatal blow. Directed by Robert Hamer and produced by Ealing Studios, the film follows Louis Mazzini, a disinherited young man who sets out to murder his way through the aristocratic D’Ascoyne family to claim a dukedom. The twist? Alec Guinness plays all eight doomed relatives, from pompous peers to prim parsons, including the formidable Lady Agatha.
Dennis Price leads with icy charm as Louis, whose calm narration and impeccable manners mask a ruthless ambition. The film’s brilliance lies not just in its premise, but in its tone—wry, restrained, and laced with irony. It skewers class pretensions, moral hypocrisy, and the genteel veneer of Edwardian society, all while maintaining a visual grace that belies its murderous plot.
Guinness’s multi-role performance is a marvel of transformation and timing, each character distinct yet united by the absurdity of their fate. The script is razor-sharp, the staging meticulous, and the humour deliciously dry. For lovers of British cinema, this isn’t just a classic—it’s a benchmark. A morning screening that rewards attention, wit, and a taste for the wickedly well-mannered.
Carrie (10:00 pm, BBC Two)
Brian De Palma’s Carrie isn’t just iconic—it’s elemental. Adapted from Stephen King’s debut novel, this 1976 horror classic blends adolescent anguish with supernatural fury, crafting a cinematic experience that’s as emotionally raw as it is visually operatic. Sissy Spacek delivers a haunting performance as Carrie White, a painfully shy teenager tormented by her classmates and oppressed by her fanatically religious mother. When Carrie discovers her telekinetic powers, the film pivots from psychological drama to full-blown horror, culminating in one of the most unforgettable prom scenes in film history.
De Palma’s direction is bold and stylised—split screens, slow motion, and a score by Pino Donaggio that veers between tender and terrifying. But beneath the genre flourishes lies a story about shame, repression, and the explosive consequences of cruelty. Spacek’s portrayal is heartbreakingly vulnerable, and Piper Laurie’s turn as Margaret White is a masterclass in unhinged menace.
Carrie endures not just because it scares, but because it understands. It taps into the fear of being othered, the pain of adolescence, and the rage that simmers beneath silence. For late-night viewers, it’s a chilling reminder that horror is most powerful when it’s personal.
The Guilty (12:55 am, Channel 4)
A masterclass in minimalist tension, The Guilty (2021) unfolds entirely within the confines of a 911 dispatch centre, yet delivers a psychological thriller as gripping as any chase across city streets. Jake Gyllenhaal stars as Joe Baylor, a demoted LAPD officer working the night shift, whose routine is shattered by a call from a woman claiming to have been abducted. What begins as a rescue attempt quickly spirals into a moral maze, as Joe’s own demons surface and the truth behind the call becomes increasingly murky.
Directed by Antoine Fuqua and adapted from the Danish original, the film thrives on claustrophobia and ambiguity. We never leave the dispatch room, never see the action unfold—everything is conveyed through voices, silences, and Joe’s unraveling composure. Gyllenhaal’s performance is a study in controlled chaos, anchoring the film with intensity and emotional nuance.
This is storytelling stripped to its essentials: one man, one room, one call. But within that frame, The Guilty explores guilt, redemption, and the limits of control. For late-night viewers, it’s a taut, nerve-jangling experience that proves you don’t need explosions to feel the impact—just a voice on the other end of the line.
The COVID Contracts: Follow the Money (10:15 pm, ITV1)
This hard-hitting documentary from ITV’s Exposure strand pulls back the curtain on one of the most contentious chapters of Britain’s pandemic response: the awarding of multi-million-pound contracts for PPE and testing. With access to hundreds of previously secret documents, emails, and procurement records, the film traces how companies with little or no experience were handed enormous deals—some of which resulted in unusable equipment, wasted resources, and staggering public expense.
It’s not just about mismanagement—it’s about accountability. The documentary examines the so-called “VIP lane” for suppliers, the failure of the costly Test and Trace programme, and the political decisions that led to billions of pounds being spent with minimal oversight. As the UK’s COVID inquiry continues, largely unnoticed by the public, this film asks the uncomfortable questions: who benefited, who failed, and who will be held responsible.
For viewers invested in transparency, public ethics, and the mechanics of crisis governance, this is essential late-night viewing. It’s forensic, unflinching, and a sobering reminder that behind every mask and test kit was a trail of decisions—some noble, some negligent, and some deeply questionable.
Monday, 22nd September 2025
The History Boys (11:00 pm, BBC Two)
Alan Bennett’s The History Boys is a richly layered, quintessentially British drama that blends intellectual rigour with emotional candour. Set in a grammar school in 1980s Yorkshire—not the 1970s, despite its nostalgic texture—the film follows a group of gifted sixth-formers preparing for Oxbridge entrance exams under the guidance of three very different teachers. What unfolds is not just a story of academic ambition, but a meditation on education itself: what it means to learn, to teach, and to grow.
Richard Griffiths is magnificent as Hector, the eccentric General Studies teacher whose love of poetry, performance, and unorthodox methods clashes with the results-driven ethos of the school. Frances de la Tour brings sharp wit and weary wisdom as Mrs Lintott, while Stephen Campbell Moore’s Irwin offers a more pragmatic, strategic approach—one that challenges the boys to reframe history as narrative, not truth.
The ensemble cast—Dominic Cooper, Samuel Barnett, Russell Tovey, James Corden, and others—brings vitality and vulnerability to roles that explore sexuality, identity, and the messy transition from adolescence to adulthood. The dialogue is razor-sharp, the humour dry and knowing, and the emotional beats land with quiet power.
The History Boys is more than a school story—it’s a reflection on memory, legacy, and the tension between authenticity and performance. For late-night viewers, it’s a film that lingers, not just for its cleverness, but for its heart. A love letter to learning, and to the teachers who shape us in ways we never forget.
Basic Instinct (11:15 pm, Legend)
Few films have burned themselves into the cultural memory quite like Basic Instinct. Directed by Paul Verhoeven and released in 1992, this erotic thriller redefined the genre with its icy style, psychological tension, and a performance from Sharon Stone that remains one of the most provocative in cinema history.
Michael Douglas plays Nick Curran, a troubled San Francisco detective investigating the brutal murder of a rock star. The prime suspect? Catherine Tramell, a seductive and enigmatic crime novelist whose fiction seems to mirror real-life violence. As Nick is drawn into Catherine’s web, the line between investigation and obsession blurs, and the film becomes a study in manipulation, voyeurism, and the dangers of desire.
Stone’s portrayal of Tramell is magnetic—cool, calculating, and utterly in control. The infamous interrogation scene, with its now-iconic leg cross, is more than a moment of shock; it’s a power play, a challenge to the male gaze, and a turning point in how female sexuality was depicted on screen. The film’s noir undertones, Jerry Goldsmith’s haunting score, and Verhoeven’s slick direction all contribute to a mood that’s both stylish and unsettling.
Basic Instinct isn’t just steamy—it’s sharp, subversive, and psychologically charged. For late-night viewers, it’s a thriller that doesn’t just titillate—it interrogates. And it still leaves audiences wondering who’s really in control.
Hunting the Next Pandemic (9:00 pm, BBC Two)
Presented by virologist and broadcaster Dr. Chris van Tulleken, this urgent and unsettling documentary takes viewers on a global journey to confront the spectre of “Disease X”—a hypothetical pathogen that could trigger the next pandemic. From the Nipah virus epicentre in Malaysia to the bird flu outbreak in US dairy cattle, van Tulleken follows the biological breadcrumbs across four continents, piecing together the warning signs that science says we can no longer afford to ignore.
What sets this apart is its blend of forensic investigation and philosophical inquiry. We meet frontline scientists, epidemiologists, and survivors, all grappling with the reality that our interconnected world has created the perfect conditions for viral emergence. The documentary doesn’t just ask how we’ll respond—it asks whether we’re even looking in the right places. With chilling insights into how viruses adapt, mutate, and exploit human behaviour, it’s a wake-up call wrapped in compelling storytelling.
But there’s hope, too. The film showcases cutting-edge technologies—from genomic surveillance to AI-driven modelling—that could revolutionise how we detect and contain outbreaks. It’s a portrait of science on the edge, racing against time, and a reminder that preparedness isn’t just policy—it’s survival.
Tuesday, 23rd September 2025
Fresh (10:55 pm, Film4)
What begins as a quirky rom-com quickly curdles into something far darker in Fresh, Mimi Cave’s audacious directorial debut. Starring Daisy Edgar-Jones and Sebastian Stan, this 2022 genre-bender takes the familiar terrain of modern dating—apps, awkward first encounters, performative charm—and twists it into a chilling satire of consumption, both literal and emotional.
Noa, disillusioned by the swipe culture and its parade of disappointments, meets the charismatic Steve in a supermarket. He’s charming, attentive, refreshingly analogue. Their chemistry is instant, and when he invites her on a romantic weekend getaway, it feels like a welcome escape. But once isolated, the mask slips—and what follows is a descent into psychological horror, with Steve revealing a taste for something far more sinister than romance.
The film’s brilliance lies in its tonal tightrope: it’s stylish, funny, and disturbingly elegant. The horror isn’t gratuitous—it’s symbolic, a grotesque metaphor for the commodification of intimacy and the dangers of ignoring red flags. Edgar-Jones brings vulnerability and grit, while Stan’s performance is unnervingly smooth, making the horror all the more effective.
Fresh is not for the squeamish, but it’s a razor-sharp commentary on the transactional nature of dating, the illusion of control, and the terrifying ease with which charm can become coercion. A late-night watch that’s bold, biting, and impossible to forget.
The Riot Club (1:10 am, Film4)
A venom-laced portrait of privilege and entitlement, The Riot Club is a film that doesn’t just critique elitism—it dissects it with surgical precision. Adapted from Laura Wade’s play Posh and directed by Lone Scherfig, the story centres on a fictional Oxford dining society whose members—young, wealthy, and untouchable—embody the darker instincts of inherited power.
Set over one increasingly volatile evening, the film follows ten privileged undergraduates as they gather for their annual dinner, locked away in a country pub after being banned from most establishments in Oxford. What begins as drunken bravado quickly descends into cruelty, violence, and a chilling display of moral decay. The cast—Sam Claflin, Max Irons, Douglas Booth, and others—deliver performances that are both charismatic and repellent, capturing the seductive pull of groupthink and the corrosive effects of unchecked entitlement.
The Riot Club is a thinly veiled stand-in for the real-life Bullingdon Club, and the film doesn’t shy away from its political implications. It’s a satire, yes—but one that feels disturbingly plausible. The dialogue is razor-sharp, the pacing relentless, and the atmosphere claustrophobic. It’s not just about youthful recklessness—it’s about the systems that protect and perpetuate it.
200 Years of the Railways (8:00 pm, BBC Two)
In this second instalment of Michael Portillo’s commemorative series, the rails become a lens through which Britain’s social and economic evolution is vividly re-examined. With his trademark blend of curiosity and historical reverence, Portillo journeys across the country to trace how the railway network transformed not just landscapes, but lives—connecting cities, fuelling industry, and reshaping the rhythms of everyday existence.
This episode shifts from the pioneering Stockton and Darlington line to the broader legacy of rail: how it enabled mass mobility, supported wartime logistics, and became a symbol of modernity and national pride. Portillo visits key sites, including the Tyne and Wear Metro and Hitachi’s Newton Aycliffe plant, where battery-powered intercity trains signal a new chapter in rail innovation. Along the way, he meets engineers, historians, and everyday passengers, weaving their insights into a narrative that’s both celebratory and reflective.
The series doesn’t shy away from critique—acknowledging Britain’s lag in electrification and high-speed development compared to global counterparts. But it also honours the railway’s enduring cultural pull, from heritage lines to the emotional resonance of train journeys through the Highlands.
For viewers drawn to industrial heritage, civic infrastructure, and the poetry of progress, this is more than a documentary—it’s a tribute to the tracks that built a nation. Thoughtful, timely, and quietly stirring
Wednesday, 24th September 2025
How to Blow Up a Pipeline (11:05 pm, Film4)
Bold, uncompromising, and fiercely contemporary, How to Blow Up a Pipeline is not your typical thriller—it’s a manifesto in motion. Directed by Daniel Goldhaber and inspired by Andreas Malm’s incendiary nonfiction book, the film follows a group of young activists who conspire to sabotage an oil pipeline in West Texas. Their motivations are personal, political, and deeply urgent: cancer diagnoses linked to pollution, failed divestment campaigns, and the slow violence of climate collapse.
What makes the film so compelling isn’t just its high-stakes premise, but its structure. Told through interwoven flashbacks, each character’s backstory adds emotional weight and moral complexity to the plot. These aren’t caricatures—they’re people pushed to the edge, grappling with the ethics of direct action and the cost of resistance. The tension builds not through spectacle, but through precision: every wire, every decision, every doubt.
Visually, it’s lean and kinetic, with Tehillah De Castro’s cinematography capturing both the desolation of the desert and the intimacy of radical solidarity. The score pulses with urgency, and the performances—especially Ariela Barer and Forrest Goodluck—anchor the film in raw, lived-in emotion.
How to Blow Up a Pipeline doesn’t preach—it provokes. It asks what it means to act when the system refuses to change, and whether sabotage can be a form of care. For late-night viewers ready to engage with the politics of climate justice, this is essential viewing: timely, tense, and impossible to ignore
The Hack (9:00 pm, ITV1)
Far more than a cyber-thriller, The Hack is a forensic drama rooted in real-world scandal. Written by Jack Thorne (Adolescence) and starring David Tennant and Robert Carlyle, this seven-part series dramatises the explosive phone-hacking saga that brought down the News of the World and shook the foundations of British media and policing2.
Tennant plays investigative journalist Nick Davies, whose reporting exposed the systemic hacking of voicemails by tabloid journalists. Carlyle portrays Dave Cook, the former Met detective who led inquiries into the unsolved murder of private investigator Daniel Morgan—a case that runs parallel to the hacking investigation and reveals a tangled web of corruption, cover-ups, and institutional rot.
The cast is a powerhouse ensemble: Toby Jones as Guardian editor Alan Rusbridger, Steve Pemberton as Rupert Murdoch, and appearances from Rose Leslie, Eve Myles, Adrian Lester, and Dougray Scott, among others. The series doesn’t just depict the crimes—it interrogates the culture that enabled them, from newsroom ethics to police complicity.
Stylish, sharp, and politically charged, The Hack is essential viewing for anyone interested in media accountability, justice, and the hidden machinery of power. It’s not just fast-paced—it’s revelatory.
Thursday, 25th September 2025
Carlito’s Way (11:20 pm, Film4)
Brian De Palma’s Carlito’s Way is a bruised elegy to the gangster genre—a film that trades bravado for regret, and ambition for the aching hope of escape. Al Pacino stars as Carlito Brigante, a Puerto Rican ex-con freshly released from prison, determined to leave behind his criminal past and build a quiet life with his former flame, Gail (Penelope Ann Miller). But the streets of 1970s New York don’t forgive so easily, and Carlito finds himself pulled back into the underworld by loyalty, circumstance, and the ghosts of his own reputation.
Unlike the explosive swagger of Scarface, this is a more subdued, tragic tale. Pacino’s performance is all restraint and weariness, a man who’s seen too much and wants only peace—but whose world won’t let him have it. Sean Penn is unrecognisable as Carlito’s corrupt, coke-addled lawyer Dave Kleinfeld, whose recklessness sets the film’s slow-burn tension ablaze. And John Leguizamo’s Benny Blanco from the Bronx is a chilling reminder that the next generation of gangsters is always waiting in the wings.
De Palma’s direction is slick and stylish, with set pieces that hum with dread—none more so than the climactic chase through Grand Central Station, a masterclass in suspense and inevitability. The film’s moral complexity lies in Carlito’s code: honour among thieves, love as redemption, and the tragic knowledge that sometimes, the past isn’t something you escape—it’s something that hunts you.
The Elephant Man (11:35 pm, BBC Four)
David Lynch’s The Elephant Man is a film of haunting grace—an elegy for dignity in a world that recoils from difference. Released in 1980 and shot in stark black and white, it tells the true story of Joseph Merrick (renamed John in the film), a man born with severe physical deformities who was exhibited in Victorian freak shows before being rescued by surgeon Frederick Treves, played with quiet compassion by Anthony Hopkins.
John Hurt’s performance as Merrick is extraordinary—not just for the physical transformation, but for the emotional depth he brings to a character so often reduced to spectacle. Beneath the prosthetics lies a soul yearning for kindness, poetry, and connection. Lynch’s direction is restrained and reverent, eschewing surrealism for a deeply humanist lens. The film’s monochrome palette evokes the grime and grandeur of 19th-century London, while Freddie Francis’s cinematography renders Merrick’s world with both intimacy and alienation.
This is not a horror film, though it confronts horror. It’s not a biopic, though it honours a life. It’s a meditation on compassion, cruelty, and the fragile beauty of being seen. For late-night viewers, The Elephant Man offers more than catharsis—it offers a mirror. One that asks not what we look like, but how we choose to look at others.
Brassic (10:00 pm, Sky Max/Showcase)
After seven seasons of chaos, camaraderie, and criminal capers, Brassic bows out with a final series that promises to be its most daring yet. Created by Joe Gilgun and Danny Brocklehurst, this Sky Original has grown from a cult comedy into one of Britain’s most beloved ensemble shows—equal parts outrageous and heartfelt.
Set in the fictional northern town of Hawley, the series follows Vinnie (Gilgun) and his misfit crew as they navigate poverty, mental health, and the absurdities of small-town life through a haze of petty crime and big dreams. This farewell run sees the gang facing old enemies, long-lost family, and the creeping realisation that they can’t outrun adulthood forever.
Expect the usual blend of slapstick and sincerity, but with a darker edge: cast members have teased a “harrowing” finale, with higher stakes and emotional gut-punches that may leave fans “furious”—in the best way3. Michelle Keegan, Ryan Sampson, Tom Hanson, and the rest of the crew return for one last ride, improvising, ad-libbing, and throwing themselves into the madness with abandon.
Brassic has always been about finding joy in the mess, loyalty in dysfunction, and love in unlikely places. This final chapter wraps it all up in unforgettable style. Buckle up—it’s going to be wild.
Friday, 26th September 2025
Genevieve (6:45 pm, Talking Pictures)
A gleaming gem of post-war British comedy, Genevieve (1953) is a breezy, whimsical romp that captures the charm of vintage motoring and the quirks of competitive friendship. Directed by Henry Cornelius and written by William Rose, the film follows two couples as they take part in the annual London to Brighton Veteran Car Run—only to let pride, jealousy, and mechanical mishaps turn a genteel outing into a hilariously chaotic race back to Westminster Bridge.
John Gregson and Dinah Sheridan star as Alan and Wendy McKim, whose beloved 1904 Darracq (the titular Genevieve) becomes both vehicle and battleground in a wager against their flamboyant friend Ambrose Claverhouse (Kenneth More) and his glamorous companion Rosalind (Kay Kendall). The journey is peppered with breakdowns, sabotage, trumpet solos, and comic detours—including a scene-stealing St. Bernard and a jazz-infused hotel meltdown.
The film’s strength lies in its lightness of touch: the humour is gentle but sharp, the performances warm and pitch-perfect, and the visuals—courtesy of Christopher Challis’s cinematography—are a nostalgic treat. Larry Adler’s harmonica score adds a jaunty rhythm to the proceedings, underscoring the film’s playful spirit.
Genevieve is more than a race—it’s a celebration of eccentricity, love, and the peculiar joy of old cars and older grudges. For early evening viewers, it’s a delightful escape into a world where rivalry is charming, romance is rekindled, and the finish line is just another excuse to keep rolling.
Black Rain (9:00 pm, Great Action)
Ridley Scott’s Black Rain (1989) is a slick, neon-drenched descent into the underworld of Osaka, where East meets West in a haze of smoke, steel, and moral ambiguity. Michael Douglas stars as Nick Conklin, a brash NYPD detective under internal investigation, who—alongside his partner Charlie Vincent (Andy García)—is tasked with escorting a captured Yakuza member back to Japan. But when their prisoner escapes, the two Americans find themselves entangled in a labyrinth of gang warfare, cultural tension, and personal reckoning.
The film is a visual feast: Jan de Bont’s cinematography bathes the city in moody shadows and electric light, while Hans Zimmer’s score pulses with menace and melancholy. Douglas plays the archetypal cop-on-the-edge, but it’s Ken Takakura as the stoic Japanese inspector Masahiro who grounds the film with quiet dignity. Their uneasy alliance becomes the emotional spine of the story, as both men confront the limits of justice in a world ruled by honour and violence.
Black Rain isn’t just an action thriller—it’s a neo-noir meditation on guilt, loyalty, and the cost of crossing lines. For late-night viewers, it’s a stylish, atmospheric ride through a city where every alley hides a secret, and every choice has consequences. A cult classic that still crackles with intensity
The Long Good Friday (12:40 am, Film4)
A cornerstone of British crime cinema, The Long Good Friday (1980) is a taut, explosive portrait of ambition, betrayal, and the brutal undercurrents of Thatcher-era London. Bob Hoskins delivers a career-defining performance as Harold Shand, a gangster with grand plans to transform the derelict Docklands into a legitimate business empire. But over the course of one Easter weekend, his world begins to unravel—bombings, assassinations, and a shadowy enemy threaten everything he’s built.
Directed by John Mackenzie and written by Barrie Keeffe, the film blends gritty realism with operatic tension. Helen Mirren brings sharp intelligence and emotional depth as Victoria, Harold’s partner and confidante, while a young Pierce Brosnan makes a chilling debut as a silent assassin. The film’s power lies not just in its plot, but in its atmosphere: London is rendered as a city on edge, pulsing with corruption, class tension, and political unease.
With its pounding score by Francis Monkman and its unforgettable final scene—a masterclass in silent defiance—The Long Good Friday remains one of the most influential gangster films ever made. It’s not just about crime—it’s about legacy, power, and the cost of trying to rise above your past.
Matter of Mind: My Alzheimer’s (PBS America)
This deeply affecting documentary from PBS’s Independent Lens series offers a rare and intimate look into the lives of three families navigating the relentless progression of Alzheimer’s disease. Directed by Anna Moot-Levin and Laura Green, the film doesn’t just chart medical decline—it captures the emotional, relational, and existential shifts that ripple through households when memory begins to fade.
Each story is anchored by love: a son helping his father create art through dementia, a daughter caring for her mother with early-onset symptoms, and a couple fighting to preserve their bond as cognition slips away. These aren’t case studies—they’re portraits of resilience, tenderness, and the quiet heroism of caregiving. The documentary explores how roles reverse, identities blur, and connection becomes both more fragile and more profound.
Shot with sensitivity and restraint, Matter of Mind avoids sentimentality while honouring the dignity of its subjects. It’s not just about loss—it’s about adaptation, presence, and the enduring power of love in the face of forgetting. For viewers drawn to human stories and public health, this is essential viewing: poignant, grounded, and quietly transformative
Streaming Picks
The Savant (Apple TV+, episodes 1 & 2 available Friday 26th September)
Jessica Chastain leads this cerebral, slow-burning thriller as a brilliant undercover investigator tasked with infiltrating online hate groups to prevent domestic extremist attacks. Inspired by a real-life story first published in Cosmopolitan, the series blends psychological depth with high-stakes tension, offering a portrait of a woman whose genius is matched only by her emotional detachment.
The first two episodes set the tone: methodical, moody, and quietly unsettling. Chastain’s character—known only as “The Savant”—is a suburban mother by day, but by night she navigates the darkest corners of the internet, decoding threats and manipulating digital personas. The pacing is deliberate, but the performances—especially from Chastain and co-star Nnamdi Asomugha—are magnetic, hinting at deeper emotional fractures beneath the surfac
Alien Earth (Disney+, final episode available Wednesday 24th September)
Noah Hawley’s Alien Earth closes its first season with a finale that’s as cerebral as it is terrifying. Titled “The Real Monsters”, the eighth and final episode brings the simmering chaos on Neverland Island to a full boil, as hybrid android Wendy (Sydney Chandler) faces off against the Prodigy Corporation’s darkest ambitions.
The series, a prequel to Ridley Scott’s Alien, has carved out its own identity—less body horror, more existential dread. It’s set in 2120, on a remote research island where corporate science, military oversight, and alien biology collide. The finale sees containment collapse, loyalties fracture, and the eerie eyeball octopus T. Ocellus poised to inhabit a human host3. Whether it’s a weapon or a revelation remains to be seen.
Directed by Dana Gonzales and written by Hawley with Migizi Pensoneau, the episode promises a showdown that’s both visceral and philosophical. Timothy Olyphant’s Kirsh and Babou Ceesay’s Morrow are caught in a web of betrayal, while Wendy’s bond with the Xenomorphs deepens, blurring the line between protector and predator.
It’s a finale that asks: what makes a monster, and who gets to decide?
House of Guinness (Apple TV+, all 8 episodes available Thursday 25th September)
Created by Peaky Blinders mastermind Steven Knight, House of Guinness is a sweeping historical drama that uncorks the legacy of one of Ireland’s most iconic families. Set in the aftermath of Sir Benjamin Guinness’s death, the series explores the seismic impact of his will on his four adult children—Arthur, Edward, Anne, and Ben—as well as the wider Dublin community entangled in the brewery’s expanding empire2.
Louis Partridge stars as Edward Guinness, stepping into a role that blends dynastic ambition with personal turmoil. Anthony Boyle, Emily Fairn, and Fionn O’Shea round out the central quartet, supported by a formidable ensemble including James Norton, Jack Gleeson, and Dervla Kirwan. The series spans 19th-century Dublin and New York, weaving together themes of inheritance, industrial power, and familial fracture.
Visually rich and emotionally charged, House of Guinness evokes the grandeur of Succession with the grit of Peaky Blinders, but trades boardrooms for breweries and back alleys. The drama is laced with political intrigue, class tension, and the intoxicating pull of legacy—both the kind you inherit and the kind you fight to redefine.
For viewers drawn to dynastic drama, period intrigue, and the bitter aftertaste of power, this is a binge-worthy brew. All eight episodes drop at once—so pour a pint and settle in.
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