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Culture Vulture: 10–16 October 2026

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Culture Vulture: 3–9 October 2026

This week moves from South London tragedy to American serial-killer horror, with a great deal of music, history and political unease in between.

Three things stand out.

On Monday, Damilola: The Untold Story returns to a case which has never entirely left the national consciousness. Twenty-six years after ten-year-old Damilola Taylor was killed, the documentary goes back to the boy behind the headlines and to those who knew him, including Grace Boyega and her brother John. It promises something more worthwhile than simply reopening an old crime file: an examination of the ripples one child’s death sent through a family, a neighbourhood and a country.

Then, on Friday night, BBC Two has Longlegs. Oz Perkins’ 2024 horror film arrived trailing comparisons with everything from The Silence of the Lambs to Se7en, but has a peculiar, sickly atmosphere all its own. Nicolas Cage provides one of his stranger performances, while Maika Monroe has the harder job of holding the film together as the FBI agent trying to understand the pattern behind a series of apparently inexplicable killings. Best watched late, preferably without too many lights on.

My third choice is rather different. BBC Four’s showing of My Night with Reg on Sunday is a welcome chance to revisit Kevin Elyot’s beautifully constructed play about friendship, sex, jealousy and loss among a group of gay men in the shadow of AIDS. It is funny until suddenly it isn’t, and that tonal shift is part of its power. Thirty years on, it remains a remarkable piece of writing.

There is plenty elsewhere too: two Ealing-era classics on Saturday morning, The Man Who Would Be King on Sunday afternoon, The Third Man and The Warlord on Monday, The Wicker Man followed by a documentary about its making on Thursday, and a Friday night stretching from The Green Mile to Cymande.

Saturday 3 October

10.35am – Passport to Pimlico, BBC Two

One of the great Ealing comedies. When residents of Pimlico discover that an old royal charter technically makes their neighbourhood part of Burgundy, they respond with all the determination, bloody-mindedness and bureaucratic ingenuity one might hope for.

Released in 1949, it still works because beneath the whimsy sits a very British suspicion of officialdom. Margaret Rutherford is among a fine cast, but the real star is the idea itself: what if one London street simply decided it was no longer playing by Westminster’s rules?

11.40am – Went the Day Well?, GREAT! Action

Made in 1942, this is a very different picture of English village life. German troops, disguised as British soldiers, infiltrate a small community in preparation for invasion. What follows is surprisingly tough stuff for its period.

It is propaganda, certainly, but unusually sharp propaganda, and the violence still has a startling edge. There is little romanticising of what invasion might mean.

7pm onwards – Elvis Night, Sky Arts

Sky Arts hands the evening over to Elvis Presley.

At 7pm, Classic Albums: Elvis Presley looks back at the recordings which established him. Elvis ’56 follows at 8pm, concentrating on the year when everything changed. At 9.20pm there is Elvis Presley: Aloha from Hawaii, the famous 1973 concert broadcast, and at 11pm Elvis: Tortured Soul turns towards the darker, more troubled side of the story.

A decent sweep through the mythology: the explosion, the spectacle and, finally, the cost.

9.10pm and 10.05pm – Paris Police 1910, BBC Four

The French crime drama reaches its series finale with two episodes back to back.

One of its strengths has always been the refusal to make the past look clean. This Paris is political, corrupt, dangerous and frequently grubby. Anyone who has stayed with the series this far will need little encouragement to see it through.

10pm – Sounds of Scotland at the BBC, BBC Two

A trawl through the BBC archives for memorable Scottish rock and pop performances.

Archive compilations can sometimes feel like television assembled by a filing cabinet, but when the material is good enough that scarcely matters. Scotland has supplied more than its fair share of great bands, singers and eccentrics over the decades.

1.45am – The Vourdalak, Film4

A strange and striking slice of Gothic horror, The Vourdalak takes its inspiration from a 19th century vampire story and feels completely unlike the polished bloodsuckers that dominate modern cinema.

This is a film steeped in folklore rather than fantasy. Its vampires belong to an older tradition, creatures of superstition, family dread and rural nightmares rather than seductive charisma. The atmosphere is intentionally off-kilter, with an unnerving, almost storybook quality that gives the whole thing the feel of a half-remembered tale passed down through generations.

The stylised approach will not be for everyone. It moves at its own pace and embraces a theatrical, deliberately artificial look, but that only adds to its peculiar charm. There is a constant sense that something is wrong, even in the quieter moments, and the film exploits that unease remarkably well.

For horror fans tired of jump scares and interchangeable creatures of the night, this offers something far more unusual. It reaches back to the roots of vampire mythology and uncovers something genuinely unsettling there. A curious, atmospheric oddity that feels as though it has crawled straight out of a forgotten European nightmare and onto the screen in the dead of night.

Sunday 4 October

2.45pm – The Man Who Would Be King, BBC Two

John Huston directs Sean Connery and Michael Caine in this terrific 1975 adaptation of Rudyard Kipling.

They play two former British soldiers who head into remote Kafiristan with plans to make their fortune and, if things go particularly well, rule the place.

It is an adventure on the grand scale, but not a simple celebration of imperial swagger. Vanity, greed and delusion are waiting patiently behind the heroics.

9pm – The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, GREAT! TV

David Fincher’s acclaimed 2011 adaptation of Stieg Larsson’s bestselling novel pairs Daniel Craig with a remarkable Rooney Mara in a dark, uncompromising thriller that refuses to soften any of its edges.

Craig plays disgraced journalist Mikael Blomkvist, hired to investigate the decades-old disappearance of a young woman from one of Sweden’s wealthiest industrial dynasties. His unlikely partner is Lisbeth Salander, a brilliant hacker whose intelligence is matched only by the damage inflicted on her by a deeply abusive world. Together they uncover secrets that many people would prefer remained buried.

Fincher directs with the icy precision that has become his trademark. Every frame feels carefully controlled, from the stark winter landscapes to the simmering sense of menace that hangs over the story. The mystery itself is gripping enough, but the real fascination comes from the characters and the bleak environment they inhabit.

And while Craig is solid throughout, this is ultimately Rooney Mara’s film. Her Salander is fiercely intelligent, vulnerable, unpredictable and utterly unforgettable. It was a breakthrough performance for a reason. Even alongside an impressive supporting cast, she commands attention whenever she appears on screen.

Dark, disturbing and often deeply uncomfortable viewing, but also a superbly crafted thriller. If you’ve somehow missed it, this is well worth three hours of your evening.

10pm – Amazing Journey: The Story of The Who, Sky Arts

A documentary history of The Who.

That means Townshend, Daltrey, Moon and Entwistle, but also smashed instruments, creative friction, spectacular live performances and the peculiar chemistry which made the band far more than simply another successful act of the 1960s.

10pm – David Bamber Introduces My Night with Reg, BBC Four

David Bamber introduces Kevin Elyot’s play, in which he originally played the anxious and sensitive Guy, a performance which won him an Olivier Award.

10.15pm – My Night with Reg, BBC Four

First staged at the Royal Court in 1994, Elyot’s play follows six gay men across the course of three evenings, capturing conversations that are funny, flirtatious, caustic and, increasingly, heartbreaking.

The dialogue crackles throughout. Old wounds are reopened, loyalties are tested and shifting relationships create a constant undercurrent of tension. Desire, infidelity and resentment pass easily between the characters. They know one another too well, which gives even the sharpest jokes a sting.

What makes the play so powerful, though, is what gradually emerges behind the banter. AIDS is present from the beginning, not as a piece of issue-led theatre and not as a device to force emotion. It simply exists as part of these men’s lives, quietly but relentlessly changing the shape of friendships, expectations and futures.

That understatement is the key to the play’s enduring impact. There are no grand speeches telling the audience what to think. Instead, the emotional weight builds almost imperceptibly as lives are altered and possibilities begin to narrow. The result is all the more devastating for its restraint.

More than three decades after its premiere, the play remains witty, humane and painfully relevant. Its honesty about love, loss and the fragility of human connections continues to hit with remarkable force.

Also available on BBC iPlayer.

10pm – The Order, BBC Two

Jude Law stars in this tense 2024 crime thriller inspired by the real activities of a violent white supremacist organisation operating in 1980s America.

Law plays an FBI agent investigating a string of armed robberies and other crimes that initially appear unconnected. As the evidence mounts, a more disturbing picture begins to emerge. Behind the attacks lies a growing extremist movement, one that is no longer content with hateful rhetoric and is edging steadily towards organised violence.

The film wisely avoids turning itself into a history lesson. Instead, it functions first and foremost as a thriller, following the investigation as it pieces together a network that is far more dangerous than anyone initially suspects. The result is a story that builds tension through methodical police work rather than action-movie heroics.

Law brings a worn determination to the central role, while the film captures the paranoia and unease of a society confronting a threat that many would rather ignore. The subject matter is undeniably grim, but the storytelling remains focused and disciplined throughout.

A dark, intelligent thriller that trusts the audience to draw their own conclusions. All the more effective because it concentrates on the danger of the movement rather than delivering a sermon about it.

Northern Ireland viewers get the film on Monday.

11pm – Three Women, Channel 4

The first of three episodes shown through the night, with episode two at 12.15am and episode three at 1.15am.

Based on Lisa Taddeo’s bestselling book, the drama follows a writer who encourages three women at pivotal moments in their lives to tell their stories.

The material deals frankly with desire, frustration and the gulf between the lives people are supposed to want and the ones they actually inhabit.

12.50am – The Crime Is Mine, BBC Two

François Ozon’s 2023 French comedy has murder, theatre, celebrity and opportunism rattling around together.

A struggling actress is accused of killing a producer and discovers that notoriety can be extremely useful.

Light on its feet, knowingly theatrical and happy to poke fun at just about everyone.

2am – Bob Dylan: The Other Side of the Mirror, Sky Arts

Dylan at the Newport Folk Festival.

The film charts his appearances as he moves from acoustic folk hero towards the electric sound which famously caused outrage among sections of the audience.

A useful reminder that yesterday’s sacred tradition was often yesterday’s dangerous innovation.

Monday 5 October

3.20pm – The Third Man, Talking Pictures TV

Vienna. Rubble. Sewers. Long shadows stretching across cobbled streets. A haunting zither score. Orson Welles smiling from a doorway. Few films are so packed with iconic moments, and fewer still live up to their reputation as completely as The Third Man.

Carol Reed’s 1949 classic follows Holly Martins, an American writer of pulp westerns who arrives in post-war Vienna expecting a job from his old friend Harry Lime. Unfortunately, Lime has just been killed in what appears to have been a traffic accident. At least, that’s the official story. The more Martins asks questions, the less convincing that story becomes.

Part thriller, part mystery and part portrait of a Europe still picking through the wreckage of war, the film creates an atmosphere that is almost impossible to shake. The bomb-damaged city becomes a character in its own right, full of divided loyalties, black-market dealings and people whose motives are never entirely clear.

Joseph Cotten is an engaging guide through the confusion, but it is Welles who casts the longest shadow over the picture. He is on screen for surprisingly little time, yet his presence dominates the entire film. By the time Harry Lime finally appears, the anticipation has become almost unbearable.

So familiar are its images and famous lines that it is easy to forget what a superb piece of filmmaking this actually is. Watch it again and the craftsmanship still astonishes. One of British cinema’s genuine masterpieces, and every bit as compelling today as it was more than seventy years ago.

5.30pm – The Warlord, Film4

Charlton Heston stars in this 1965 medieval drama as a Norman knight sent to defend a remote coastal settlement.

The film is tougher and moodier than the title might suggest, with its real interest lying in clashes of custom, authority and desire rather than battlefield spectacle.

8.30pm – Clickbait Clinic with Stacey Dooley, BBC One

BBC Two in Northern Ireland.

This week the target is NAD+ anti-ageing IV drips.

They are expensive, fashionable and promoted with some extremely ambitious claims. Stacey Dooley and the team ask the useful question: do they actually do what people are paying them to do?

9pm – Damilola: The Untold Story, BBC Two

Twenty-six years after ten-year-old Damilola Taylor was stabbed on his way home in South London, this documentary revisits both his life and the consequences of his killing.

Among those contributing are Damilola’s friends and family, including Grace Boyega and her younger brother John, now a Hollywood actor. They were among the last people to see him alive, having spent time with him at Peckham Library after school.

What matters here is the attempt to recover Damilola from the crime which came to define him publicly: restless, lively, carefree, a child before he became a symbol.

Catch up via BBC iPlayer.

10.20pm – All We Imagine as Light, Film4

Payal Kapadia’s acclaimed 2024 drama follows two nurses in Mumbai whose lives begin to shift in quiet but profound ways.

This is not a film in a hurry. It watches people, streets, rooms and relationships, allowing emotional truths to emerge gradually rather than announcing them.

11pm – Till, BBC Two

The story of Mamie Till-Mobley and the murder of her son Emmett Till.

The film’s centre is not simply the racist killing itself but a mother’s decision that America would be forced to look at what had been done.

Danielle Deadwyler gives a powerful performance.

12.40am – The Last Duel, Film4

Ridley Scott directs this powerful historical drama based on the real case that led to one of France’s last officially sanctioned judicial duels. Starring Matt Damon, Adam Driver and Jodie Comer, it combines medieval spectacle with a surprisingly modern understanding of power, truth and reputation.

What initially appears to be a straightforward story is told from three different perspectives, each offering a competing version of the same events. The structure is far more than a clever narrative device. As the accounts unfold, it becomes clear how memory, self-interest and pride shape the stories people tell about themselves and others.

The men at the centre of the film are preoccupied with honour, status and ownership. Their disputes are presented as matters of principle, yet Scott steadily exposes the vanity and entitlement lurking beneath the surface. The closer the film gets to the truth, the clearer it becomes that what is at stake for them is very different from what is at stake for the woman caught in the middle.

That woman is brilliantly played by Jodie Comer, whose performance gives the film its emotional weight and moral centre. While others argue over reputation and legacy, she faces consequences that are immediate, personal and life-changing. The contrast is impossible to ignore.

Brutal, intelligent and often uncomfortable viewing, The Last Duel uses its medieval setting to examine themes that remain sharply relevant. A gripping historical drama with far more on its mind than sword fights and period detail.

Tuesday 6 October

9pm – Mafia: Behind the Bloodshed, Sky History

A documentary look at organised crime and the violence behind the mythology.

There has never been a shortage of films willing to make the Mafia look glamorous. Programmes such as this are more useful when they remember that the real business involved fear, coercion and dead bodies.

Catch up on NOW.

9pm – Blue Lights, BBC One

The Belfast police drama returns to the schedule, with the full series also available through BBC iPlayer.

Its great strength is that policing is never presented as abstract procedure. Every decision sits inside a city carrying history, loyalties, grudges and danger.

9pm – Henry VIII’s Enforcer: The Rise and Fall of Thomas Cromwell, BBC Four

Another look at one of Tudor England’s most fascinating operators.

Cromwell rose from relatively modest origins to become indispensable to Henry VIII, helped reorder church and state, and then discovered the obvious problem with serving an absolute monarch: indispensability can expire very quickly.

10.40pm – Bram Stoker’s Dracula, BBC One

Francis Ford Coppola’s 1992 version is gloriously excessive.

Gary Oldman broods, Anthony Hopkins attacks the scenery and Keanu Reeves battles heroically with an English accent.

Yet beneath the velvet, blood and spectacle there is genuine visual imagination. Few Dracula films have looked so determined to give you your money’s worth.

11.35pm – The Motorcycle Diaries, Film4

Before the beret, the posters and the mythology, there was simply Ernesto Guevara, a young medical student setting out on a journey across South America. Walter Salles’ acclaimed road movie follows that journey, with Gael García Bernal delivering a thoughtful and compelling performance as the future revolutionary.

Travelling with his friend Alberto Granado, Guevara encounters landscapes of breathtaking beauty alongside grinding poverty, exploitation and stark social inequality. What begins as an adventure gradually becomes something more significant as the realities of life across the continent force him to look beyond his own experiences and assumptions.

The film is less interested in grand political statements than in the slow formation of a worldview. Rather than presenting Che Guevara as a finished historical figure, it examines the experiences that shaped him and the questions that began to occupy his mind. The transformation is gradual, emerging from conversations, observations and encounters with ordinary people rather than moments of cinematic revelation.

Whatever conclusions viewers may draw about the man Guevara eventually became, The Motorcycle Diaries remains a fascinating study of political awakening and personal discovery. Beautifully photographed and quietly affecting, it is a road movie with far more on its mind than simply getting from one place to another.

12.05am – Of Human Bondage, Talking Pictures TV

Leslie Howard plays Philip Carey, the artist turned medical student whose infatuation with a cruel waitress threatens to wreck his life.

Bette Davis is the main attraction. Her Cockney accent wanders freely across the map, but the performance beneath it is far more interesting: bitter, manipulative, wounded and very difficult to forget.

12.10am – Midnight Movies: From the Margins to the Mainstream, Sky Arts

A documentary about six low-budget films which, between 1970 and 1977, helped transform the culture of underground cinema.

The midnight screening became a world of its own: audiences gathering repeatedly around films ignored or misunderstood by the mainstream.

Cult cinema before “cult” became a marketing department.

Wednesday 7 October

10pm – Play for Today: Schmoedipus, BBC Four

A rarely seen Dennis Potter play from 1974, shown in tribute to Tim Curry.

Potter was rarely interested in comfortable television. Identity, fantasy, power and memory had a habit of slipping into one another, and Schmoedipus is very much in that territory.

Also available on BBC iPlayer.

12.15am – Suddenly, Talking Pictures TV

Frank Sinatra takes a welcome detour away from his easy-going star persona in this lean and surprisingly vicious 1954 thriller, playing against type as the leader of a gang plotting to assassinate the President of the United States.

The premise is brutally simple. A small-town family find their home commandeered by armed men because it overlooks the perfect firing position for the planned attack. Once the gang arrives, the film becomes an exercise in mounting tension as the captives search for any opportunity to disrupt the plot without getting themselves killed.

Director Lewis Allen wastes little time on distractions. The story unfolds largely within a single location, creating a claustrophobic atmosphere that grows more oppressive as the clock ticks towards the President’s arrival. What might have been a routine thriller instead becomes an impressively tight battle of nerves.

Sinatra is particularly effective because of how cold and controlled he appears throughout. There is little charm to this character and even less sentimentality. His performance gives the film an edge that still feels unsettling more than seventy years later.

Short, sharp and remarkably dark for its era, Suddenly remains a gripping piece of suspense. Those expecting the smooth, likable Sinatra of many of his better-known screen roles may be in for a shock. That’s part of what makes it so memorable.

1.30am – Skin, Film4

Jamie Bell delivers a gripping and deeply unsettling performance as Bryon Widner, a violent racist skinhead who begins the painful process of breaking away from the white supremacist movement that has defined almost every aspect of his adult life.

The film is based on a true story, but it avoids easy redemption narratives and simple moral victories. Instead, it focuses on the practical and emotional realities of trying to leave an extremist world behind. Widner has spent years building an identity around hatred, surrounded by people who see his commitment to the cause as proof of loyalty. Walking away is not merely a matter of changing his mind.

What follows is a portrait of a man struggling to escape a life that continues to exert a powerful hold over him. Friends become enemies, old certainties disappear and the prospect of building something new proves far more difficult than tearing down what came before. The film understands that belonging can be a powerful force, even when the community in question is built on toxic foundations.

Bell is outstanding throughout, conveying both the character’s capacity for violence and his growing recognition of the damage he has caused. The transformation is neither quick nor comfortable, which makes it feel all the more convincing.

A tough watch at times, but an absorbing one. More than a study of racism, Skin is a film about identity, loyalty and the immense difficulty of escaping a worldview when everyone around you has invested in keeping you trapped inside it.

7.25pm – Nazis, Diplomats: Dancing with the Devil, PBS America

Diplomacy becomes particularly murky when governments find themselves dealing with murderous regimes.

This documentary examines the compromises, calculations and moral evasions surrounding relations with Nazi Germany.

9.55pm – The Wicker Man, BBC Four

Still one of the strangest British films ever made.

Edward Woodward arrives on a remote Scottish island looking for a missing girl and discovers a community which regards his Christian certainty with increasing amusement.

Christopher Lee presides over proceedings with magnificent calm.

The film’s reputation has grown steadily because nothing about it feels quite like anything else: folk music, pagan ritual, police procedural and horror assembled into something both absurd and deeply unsettling.

10.45pm – The Last Samurai, ITV1

Tom Cruise plays an American soldier who becomes drawn into Japan’s conflict between rapid modernisation and the fading samurai order.

It is broad, romantic historical cinema, but beautifully mounted, and Ken Watanabe gives the film much of its dignity.

11.25pm – EX-S: The Wicker Man, BBC Four

Stay where you are after the film.

This documentary goes behind the scenes of The Wicker Man and explores the making of a picture whose production history became almost as strange as the finished work.

11.25pm – A Most Wanted Man, Film4

Philip Seymour Hoffman gives one of the finest performances of his career in this intelligent adaptation of John le Carré’s novel, a slow-burning spy thriller set in the shadowy world of post-9/11 counterterrorism.

The story unfolds in Hamburg, where rival intelligence agencies, government departments and security services circle around the arrival of a mysterious Chechen refugee. Everyone claims to be pursuing the same objective, yet everyone seems to have a different agenda. As alliances shift and information is traded like currency, the line between protecting the public and protecting institutional interests becomes increasingly blurred.

Le Carré’s world has never been one of glamorous espionage or cinematic heroics. Here, intelligence work is presented as a grubby business of surveillance, manipulation and compromise, conducted by people who spend as much time negotiating with one another as they do chasing suspects. The tension comes not from explosive action sequences but from the constant uncertainty over who can be trusted and what price will ultimately be paid.

At the centre of it all is Hoffman’s weary spymaster, a man trying to navigate a system in which political pressure often collides with practical reality. His performance is superbly judged, capturing intelligence, frustration and quiet determination in equal measure. It remains all the more poignant because it was one of his final leading roles before his death.

Compelling, understated and richly intelligent, A Most Wanted Man is a reminder of how effective a thriller can be when it trusts its audience. Less interested in heroes and villains than in the murky territory between them, it stands as one of the strongest modern Le Carré adaptations.

9pm – The Green Mile, Film4

Frank Darabont’s adaptation of Stephen King’s novel is long, sentimental and utterly committed to both of those things.

Tom Hanks plays a prison officer on death row in 1930s Louisiana who encounters John Coffey, a huge, gentle prisoner apparently capable of miraculous acts.

Michael Clarke Duncan gives the film its heart.

9pm – Play for Today: Closing Time, Channel 5

The third of six original dramas in the anthology.

Leila is a lawyer, unhappily engaged and increasingly aware that her life has settled into a rut. Then she meets Mo, a kebab-shop worker whose own ambitions have stalled.

The attraction here lies in two people recognising the same frustration in one another.

9.40pm – The Rise and Fall of the Rust Belt, PBS America

An examination of what happened to the American communities built around heavy industry when the factories closed, jobs disappeared and entire local economies began to unravel.

“Rust Belt” is now used so casually in political discussion that it can sound like a demographic category rather than somewhere people actually live. This looks at the human geography beneath the label.

10pm – Longlegs, BBC Two

One of the week’s biggest television premieres arrives in the shape of Longlegs, the horror thriller that generated an unusual amount of praise for doing something many modern horror films seem reluctant to attempt: unsettling its audience rather than simply startling it.

Maika Monroe stars as an FBI agent investigating a series of disturbing family deaths that appear to be linked by the presence of a single elusive killer. As the investigation progresses, the case becomes increasingly strange, drawing her into territory where conventional explanations start to feel inadequate.

The film’s other major attraction is Nicolas Cage. Although he plays the killer, anyone expecting one of his trademark scenery-chewing performances may be caught off guard. His work here is far more controlled and, in many ways, more disturbing because of it. Cage creates a character who feels profoundly wrong from the moment he appears, leaving an impression that lingers long after the scene ends.

Director Oz Perkins understands that the most effective horror often exists at the edge of perception. Rather than constantly putting its monsters in the spotlight, the film allows unease to seep into the corners of the frame. Shadows seem to conceal more than they reveal, ordinary spaces become threatening and the audience is left filling in gaps that are frequently more frightening than anything shown outright.

The result is chilly, oppressive and deliberately odd. This is not a horror film interested in easy answers or neat resolutions. Instead, it creates an atmosphere of creeping dread that becomes steadily more suffocating as events unfold.

10.40pm – Getting It Back: The Story of Cymande, BBC Four

Cymande were a British funk band whose music travelled considerably further than their original commercial success might suggest.

Later generations of DJs, hip-hop artists and musicians rediscovered their records, sampled them and passed them onwards.

This is the pleasing story of music refusing to disappear simply because the industry has moved on.

Catch up via BBC iPlayer.

2.45am – Zola, Channel 4

A film based on a viral Twitter thread sounds like the sort of idea that should have collapsed under the weight of its own cleverness. Instead, director Janicza Bravo transformed the story into one of the most distinctive and darkly funny films of recent years.

Taylour Paige stars as Zola, a Detroit waitress who is persuaded to join a seemingly straightforward road trip to Florida by a woman she has only just met. It does not take long for things to become complicated. Then dangerous. Then completely unhinged. What begins as an opportunity to make some easy money soon spirals into a succession of increasingly reckless decisions that leave everybody scrambling to keep up with events.

Bravo captures the absurdity of the situation without ever losing sight of the growing sense of menace underneath it. The film is frequently hilarious, but there is also a constant feeling that disaster is lurking just around the corner. Each new development somehow manages to be more outrageous than the last, yet the story never feels unbelievable because the characters remain recognisably human throughout.

Part road movie, part crime caper and part social media fairy tale gone wrong, Zola has a style and energy entirely its own. It understands the strange gap between how people present their lives online and the messy reality concealed behind the performance.

Sharp, funny and increasingly nightmarish, this is one of those films that leaves you repeatedly asking how things could possibly get any worse, only for the answer to arrive a few minutes later. An extraordinary tale, made all the more remarkable by the fact that it actually happened.

Disney+

Oasis: Don’t Look Back in Anger — from Friday 9 October

Liam and Noel Gallagher’s reunion was one of those events which seemed permanently unlikely until suddenly it wasn’t.

This feature-length documentary charts the Oasis Live ’25 tour and the return of a band whose split had become nearly as famous as its music.

For fans, the fascination will be partly in the songs and partly in seeing whether two brothers who spent years publicly attacking one another really could inhabit the same stage again.

Paramount+

Scandal — all seven seasons from Monday 5 October

Shonda Rhimes’ political thriller ran from 2012 to 2018 and stars Kerry Washington as Olivia Pope, a former White House communications director who establishes her own crisis-management firm.

Politics here is not so much public service as a machine fuelled by secrets, leverage and people attempting to control disasters before they become headlines.

Seven seasons should keep anyone occupied for a while.

Prime Video

Carrie — all eight episodes from Wednesday 7 October

Stephen King’s 1974 debut novel has already generated several screen versions, most famously Brian De Palma’s extraordinary 1976 film.

Now comes an eight-part modern-day television adaptation.

The obvious question is whether Carrie needs eight hours rather than two. The answer will depend on whether the series finds something new inside the familiar material: teenage cruelty, religious fanaticism, shame and the catastrophic consequences of pushing an isolated young woman beyond endurance.

Netflix

Unabomber — available now

A crime drama drawing on the hunt for the Unabomber.

The story has obvious dramatic appeal: a long investigation, an elusive suspect and a campaign of violence carried out over years.

Leaving soon

A Room with a View — Channel 4, available until 10 October

The Merchant Ivory adaptation of E. M. Forster remains one of the defining British films of the 1980s.

Beautiful locations, repression, class, romance and an excellent cast. If it has been sitting on your watchlist, now would be a sensible time.

Parallel Mothers — BBC iPlayer, available until Thursday

Pedro Almodóvar directs Penélope Cruz in a story which begins with two women meeting in a maternity ward and expands into questions of motherhood, memory and Spain’s buried political past.

Coming soon

Vision Quest — Disney+, from 14 October

The Marvel universe expands again.

Vision returns in another television spin-off, continuing the strand of stories which grew out of WandaVision.

Radio

Saturday

3pm – Gilgamesh, Radio 4

More than a thousand years before Homer’s Odyssey came The Epic of Gilgamesh.

Patterson Joseph narrates this dramatisation of Simon Armitage’s new version, directed by Nadia Molinari, with Sacha Dhawan as Gilgamesh: king, hero, monster-slayer and a being described as one-third mortal and two-thirds divine.

There are gods, battles, friendship, grief and a journey towards the underworld.

Four thousand years on, humanity’s oldest surviving narrative poem still knows how to tell a story.

Sunday

8pm – ABBA vs the Bee Gees Live with Rylan, Radio 2

There will be no shortage of songs everyone knows.

Rylan hosts a celebration of two groups who dominated 1970s pop and continued to cast a considerable shadow over the decade that followed.

ABBA or Bee Gees? Sensible people will simply take both.

Monday

11.45am – To Go or Not to Go, Radio 4

At 65, travel writer Sara Wheeler wonders whether it might finally be time to unpack.

Across five programmes she asks whether travel genuinely broadens the mind, whether imagination can do the same job, and whether men and women have historically encountered the world in different ways.

She also draws on the experiences of female travellers past and present.

Tuesday

1.30pm – In the Studio, BBC World Service

Gareth Mitchell is in Berlin exploring experimental electronic music.

He spends time with Drift Machine and looks at modular systems, including what is described as the only surviving synthesizer of its type from the former East Germany.

A programme for anyone who likes hearing musicians explain exactly why an obscure machine producing an alarming noise is, in fact, beautiful.

4pm – Role Play, Radio 4

Bertolt Brecht’s Mother Courage and Her Children remains one of theatre’s great anti-war works.

Mother Courage follows armies through Europe with her cart, selling goods to soldiers and attempting to survive through war.

The bitter joke is that the conflict which provides her living steadily destroys everything she values.

Friday

7.15pm – Screenshot, Radio 4

Ellen E. Jones and Mark Kermode ask whether the graphic novel is inherently cinematic.

The discussion ranges across films including David Cronenberg’s A History of Violence and the animated Persepolis, both reminders that comic-book adaptation means rather more than capes and superheroes.

There is also a conversation with director Sook-Yin Lee about Paying for It, adapted from Chester Brown’s autobiographical graphic novel concerning the breakdown of their relationship.

A promising subject. Cinema and comics have been borrowing from one another for more than a century, often without admitting just how close the relationship really is.

That’s it for this week. Whether you want Damilola Taylor remembered as a boy rather than a headline, Nicolas Cage being thoroughly unsettling, Edward Woodward discovering that Summerisle is not quite what it seems, or simply several hours of Elvis Presley, there should be something here worth your time.

Pat Harrington

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Culture Vulture 26 September–2 October 2026

My three highlights are very different beasts. Finding Britain’s Slave Traders with David Olusoga is television doing one of the things television can still do exceptionally well: taking history that has been tidied up, sentimentalised or pushed politely to one side and putting it back in the centre of the national story. An Inspector Calls, meanwhile, demonstrates why Priestley refuses to go away. Eighty years after the play was first performed, its arguments about wealth, responsibility and the consequences of our actions remain irritatingly alive. And for sheer pleasure, Pet Shop Boys Night offers Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe in all their elegant, ironic, melancholy glory.

Elsewhere, there is classic Hitchcock, the return of Blue Lights, a formidable run of late-night films, Led Zeppelin, Steinbeck, Hammer horror, Pop Art, housing drama, the British slave trade, space exploration and even the cultural politics of the buffalo. Not much room for boredom.

Saturday 26 September

10.35am – The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (1943), BBC Two

Powell and Pressburger never do the obvious. They take a story that could have been a straight patriotic salute to a career soldier and turn it into something stranger, richer, and quietly devastating. Time rolls over Clive Candy like a tide — friendships shift, loyalties blur, the country he serves keeps reinventing itself — yet he clings to a code that once made perfect sense and now feels like an antique he’s determined to polish anyway.

Roger Livesey carries all of this with a kind of effortless gravity. He’s funny without trying to be, dignified without pomp, and heartbreakingly human in the moments when he realises the world has moved on and isn’t waiting for him to catch up. The film drifts between eras with a painter’s confidence, one minute broad and comic, the next unexpectedly tender.

People sometimes talk about Colonel Blimp as if it’s a cosy old favourite, but that undersells it. Beneath the warmth and wit sits a sharp critique of British self‑image — the comforting myths, the stubbornness, the belief that honour alone can navigate a century that refuses to play by the old rules. It’s a portrait of a man out of time, drawn with affection but never sentimentality.

The Space Race in Colour — 8pm, Channel 4, 1/2

The opening part explores the extraordinary acceleration of space exploration during the 1950s and 60s. What makes the story endure is not simply the technology but the mixture of scientific ambition, military competition, propaganda and genuine human curiosity driving it. Colour footage gives familiar history an unusual immediacy.

Chrissie Hynde and the Pretenders at the BBC — 8.45pm, BBC Two

A welcome trawl through the BBC archive devoted to one of rock music’s genuinely distinctive figures. Hynde has always possessed that rare combination of toughness, intelligence and effortless cool. The songs have aged rather better than many of the fashions surrounding them. Catch up via iPlayer.

The Space Race in Colour — 9pm, Channel 4, 2/2

The second instalment turns to Kennedy’s 25 May 1961 pledge to land an American on the Moon before the decade was out. An audacious political promise that became an engineering challenge on an almost unimaginable scale. We know the ending; the fascination lies in remembering how improbable it once seemed.

Chrissie Hynde at Glastonbury — 10pm, BBC Two

The Pretenders’ 2023 Glastonbury appearance. Hynde remains a commanding live performer, and the set provides a useful reminder that this catalogue goes a good deal deeper than the obvious hits.

Arena: Alone with Chrissie Hynde — 11.30pm, BBC Two

This 2017 portrait is the more intriguing part of the evening. We follow Hynde from clothes shopping in Paris to hanging out with Sandra Bernhard in New York. Less a conventional rock biography than an intimate encounter with a famously self-contained artist.

Withnail and I — 12.20am, Channel 4 (1987)

Some films don’t age so much as ferment, and Withnail and I is one of them — sharper, stranger, sadder every time you return to it. On the surface it’s a shambolic comedy about two out‑of‑work actors fleeing a grim London flat for a countryside that turns out to be even grimmer. But underneath the booze, the bravado and the endless quotable lines, there’s a story about friendship stretched thin by desperation, about youth quietly slipping away while you’re busy performing your own downfall.

Richard E. Grant’s Withnail is a masterpiece of controlled chaos: all flailing elegance, theatrical misery and the kind of self‑destruction that would be unbearable if it weren’t so funny. Paul McGann’s “I” is the ballast — anxious, hopeful, already half aware that the life they’re clinging to is unsustainable. Together they stumble through a world that feels permanently waterlogged, chasing dignity, escape, or at least a drink strong enough to make the day tolerable.

What stays with you isn’t just the comedy, though it’s still lethal. It’s the melancholy that creeps in around the edges, the sense that this is the last chapter of a friendship that can’t survive adulthood. The final scenes land with a weight the film has been quietly preparing you for — the moment when the performance ends and one of them has to step into a future the other can’t face.

It’s still desperately funny. It’s still painfully sad. And it still feels like one of the great British films about the moment youth gives way to something colder.  A film about friendship, failure and the end of youth masquerading as an extended drinking session.

Nostalgia — 12.35am, BBC Two (2022)

Mario Martone’s brooding return-to-Naples drama follows a man confronting the city and memories he left behind decades earlier.

Martone’s film moves at the pace of someone returning to a place they once knew intimately but can no longer read. Naples isn’t just a backdrop here; it’s a living archive of everything the protagonist abandoned — the streets he grew up on, the rituals he shed, the mistakes that hardened into memory. When he walks back into the city, it’s as if the past has been waiting for him, patient and unforgiving.

There’s a brooding stillness to the way Martone frames the neighbourhoods: sun‑bleached courtyards, narrow alleys that seem to close in as he tries to navigate them, faces that carry decades of unspoken history. The film doesn’t rush to explain anything. It lets the geography do the talking, and the geography has a long memory.

What emerges is a portrait of a man trying to reconcile who he was with who he became — and discovering that the city has its own version of him, one he can’t easily escape. The drama is quiet, almost stealthy, but it builds into something weighty: a reckoning with guilt, loyalty and the kind of nostalgia that isn’t warm at all, just persistent.

It’s patient, atmospheric filmmaking — the sort that trusts you to sit with the silences and the shadows. Martone understands that returning home is never simple, and rarely comforting. Here, it’s a confrontation.

Sunday 27 September

The 39 Steps — 12.40pm, BBC Two (1935)

Hitchcock was still working within the British studio system when he made The 39 Steps, but you can already see the whole toolkit forming — the wrong man on the run, the cool blonde with secrets of her own, the set‑pieces that snap into place with a magician’s timing. What’s striking, ninety years on, is how light it all feels. Robert Donat barely seems to break a sweat as he’s dragged from London to the Highlands and back again, accused of murder, chased by spies, handcuffed to a stranger who’d rather be anywhere else.

There’s a looseness to Donat’s performance that keeps the film buoyant. He’s charming without being smug, quick without being slick, and always looks as though he’s enjoying the absurdity of the situation just enough to keep you on his side. Hitchcock matches him beat for beat: scenes tumble into each other with a rhythm that feels almost musical, jokes land in the middle of danger, and the plot — which is nonsense in the best possible way — clicks forward with beautiful economy.

What’s remarkable is how modern it still feels. The pacing is ferocious, the humour dry, the storytelling stripped down to essentials. No fat, no fuss. Just a man, a mystery, and a director discovering how to make cinema move like a living thing.

It’s fast, funny, and built with such confidence that you can see the future Hitchcock in every frame. Nearly a century later, it still runs like a train.

Our Man in Havana — 12.55pm, Talking Pictures TV (1959)

Greene’s own adaptation gives Carol Reed exactly the material he thrives on: a world where danger and absurdity sit so close together you can’t quite tell which is which. Havana, caught in the last flicker of pre‑revolutionary glamour, becomes a stage for one of the great comic deconstructions of espionage — a place where the shadows are long, the drinks are strong, and the intelligence services are so desperate for information they’ll believe almost anything, provided it arrives on the right form.

Alec Guinness plays Wormold with that immaculate, slightly baffled charm he could summon without effort. He’s a vacuum‑cleaner salesman who stumbles into British intelligence and quickly discovers that inventing agents, plots and blueprints is far easier than actually running them. His sketches of imaginary weapons — lifted straight from the parts of his own appliances — are accepted as gospel by men who should know better. Guinness never pushes the comedy; he lets the madness of the situation do the work, and the result is funnier, and sadder, than a broader performance would allow.

Reed keeps the tone light but never flimsy. Beneath the jokes lies a clear-eyed view of Cold War bureaucracy: the memos, the committees, the blind faith in paperwork, the willingness to inflate nonsense into national security. Glamour is stripped away, replaced by a kind of weary procedural chaos. Everyone is pretending, and everyone is invested in the pretence.

It’s a delight — nimble, dry, and quietly scathing. A spy film where the most dangerous thing isn’t the enemy, but the machinery of espionage itself, grinding on regardless of whether any of it makes sense.

The Lady Vanishes — 2.05pm, BBC Two (1938)

Hitchcock’s British period is full of treasures, but this one has a particular snap to it — a thriller that never forgets to be playful, a comedy that never loses its grip on tension. It begins with the bustle of a European railway station, all chatter and mild chaos, then slips onto a train where reality seems to bend ever so slightly. A woman disappears, and almost everyone insists she was never there. That simple hook becomes a kind of game: who’s lying, who’s confused, and who’s quietly steering events from the shadows.

Margaret Lockwood and Michael Redgrave make a terrific pair, sparring their way through the mystery with a lightness that keeps the film buoyant even as the stakes rise. Hitchcock uses the confined setting beautifully — corridors, compartments, dining cars — each space tightening the screws a little more. The humour is dry, the pacing brisk, and the whole thing has that early-Hitchcock confidence where he seems to be discovering just how much fun he can have with an audience’s nerves.

Eighty‑odd years later, it still works. The wit, the suspense, the sheer elegance of the storytelling — all intact. It’s one of his most entertaining British films, and a reminder that he didn’t need Hollywood to be Hitchcock.

Eva Longoria: Searching for France — 7.15pm, BBC Two

Longoria continues the travel-and-food format with France as her destination. These programmes work best when the celebrity presenter gets out of the way and allows local history, food and people to take over. Full series on iPlayer.

Assault on Precinct 13 — 9pm, Great Action (1976)

Carpenter was still early in his career when he made Assault on Precinct 13, but the confidence is already there — that stripped‑back style, the refusal to waste a frame, the sense that he knows exactly how to wind an audience up without ever raising his voice. The setup is brutally simple: a near‑abandoned police station, a handful of people inside, and a faceless gang outside who seem less like criminals than a force of nature. No speeches, no psychology, just pressure.

What makes it sing is the economy. Carpenter takes a tiny budget and turns it into something elemental. The station becomes a kind of frontier outpost, the siege a modern‑day western smuggled into an urban nightmare. The characters aren’t grand or mythic — they’re ordinary, scared, improvising — which somehow makes the tension worse. You feel every corner tightening, every option closing.

The violence is sudden, the humour bone‑dry, and the atmosphere thick enough to chew. Carpenter’s score pulses underneath it all, that cold, insistent rhythm that feels like a heartbeat you can’t slow down.

It’s lean, merciless filmmaking — a reminder of how much you can do with almost nothing when you understand pacing, space and dread. A siege movie that never pretends to be anything else, and ends up being far more because of it.

Platoon — 10pm, BBC Two (1986)

Oliver Stone’s Vietnam War film remains raw, angry and morally divided. Willem Dafoe and Tom Berenger embody competing visions of soldiering while Charlie Sheen’s young recruit is caught between them. Sometimes unsubtle, certainly, but its fury is genuine.

An Inspector Calls — 10pm, BBC Four

Priestley’s play is a morality tale built like a piece of clockwork: one room, one family, one visitor who refuses to let anyone wriggle out of their own part in a young woman’s death. The 2015 adaptation leans into that structure without ever feeling stagey. It has a kind of eerie stillness — the Birling home glowing with wealth and certainty — and then David Thewlis walks in and the temperature drops.

Thewlis’s Inspector Goole doesn’t raise his voice or posture. He simply arrives, and from that moment the celebration curdles. He has that unsettling calm that makes you lean forward, the sense that he already knows every answer and is waiting to see whether the Birlings will tell the truth or cling to their self‑image. One by one, the family’s polished surfaces crack: the smugness, the entitlement, the insistence that responsibility is something for other people. Priestley’s machinery is visible, yes, but it’s purposeful — each revelation landing with the weight of a moral argument rather than a plot twist.

What the adaptation captures so well is the play’s anger. Not loud, not theatrical — just steady, focused, and aimed squarely at the idea that privilege can insulate you from consequence. It can’t. Priestley knew that in 1945, and the story hasn’t lost any of its bite.

It’s an excellent version, atmospheric without fuss, and anchored by Thewlis’s quietly relentless performance. And if you miss it live, it’s sitting on iPlayer, waiting for you to step into that dining room and watch the façade crumble.

J. B. Priestley documentary — 11.15pm, BBC Four

A 1973 programme made as Priestley approached his 80th birthday. A fitting companion piece, allowing the man himself to reflect on a career that moved between novels, theatre, broadcasting and public argument.

Monday 28 September

Finding Britain’s Slave Traders with David Olusoga — 9pm, BBC Two

The concluding part of Olusoga’s superb and devastating two-parter. Edward Colston’s name became nationally notorious in 2020 when his statue went into Bristol Harbour, but Olusoga’s point is that Colston was no aberration. Hospitals, schools, theatres and civic institutions benefited from fortunes entangled with slavery, while the privatisation and expansion of the trade fed British economic growth.

The casual brutality inflicted upon millions of Africans makes this difficult viewing. It should be. This is not somebody else’s history. It is part of Britain’s national story, and Olusoga is particularly good at joining the individual lives to the larger economic structures. Both episodes are on iPlayer.

Nobody — 9pm, Film4 (2021)

Bob Odenkirk makes an unexpectedly convincing action hero as an apparently ordinary suburban father whose old skills resurface spectacularly. Ridiculous in places, but knowingly so. A very efficient piece of pulp entertainment.

Henry Moore Night — from 10pm, BBC Four

A whole evening devoted to Moore begins with reminiscences from his daughter Mary. BBC Four remains at its best when it raids the archive like this rather than trying to imitate mainstream television.

The Culture Show: Henry Moore — 10.10pm, BBC Four

The late Alan Yentob examines Moore’s work and his relationship with television. Moore understood early that broadcasting could take sculpture beyond galleries and into millions of homes.

Dead Man’s Shoes — 10.50pm, Film4 (2004)

Meadows has made plenty of tough films, but this is the one where the darkness feels baked into the soil. No swagger, no genre polish, no cathartic showdown — just a man walking back into the town that failed his brother and refusing to let anyone pretend it didn’t happen. Paddy Considine gives a performance that seems to vibrate with purpose. He’s frightening, yes, but never in a showy way. The terror comes from how still he is, how certain. You can see the grief sitting just behind the rage, shaping every decision.

The film unfolds like a bad memory resurfacing. Meadows shoots the Midlands with a stark intimacy: empty fields, quiet estates, the kind of places where cruelty can hide because nobody’s looking. The men Considine is hunting aren’t master criminals; they’re small‑time bullies who thought they’d gotten away with something. Meadows refuses to glamorise any of it. Violence arrives without flourish, without slow‑motion, without the usual cinematic cushioning. It’s ugly, abrupt, and leaves a mark.

What lingers, though, isn’t the brutality. It’s the sorrow. The bond between Considine’s character and his brother — shown in those grainy, affectionate flashbacks — gives the film its spine. You understand exactly why he’s doing this, and you understand the cost. By the time the final reckoning arrives, the film has stripped revenge of every comforting illusion. There’s no triumph here, no release. Just consequence.

It’s brutal, intimate, unforgettable — Meadows at his most uncompromising, and Considine at his most extraordinary.

Nickel Boys — 11.05pm, BBC Two (2024)

RaMell Ross approaches Colson Whitehead’s novel with the same instinct that shaped Hale County This Morning, This Evening: a refusal to flatten experience into tidy narrative. Instead of marching through the horrors of a Jim Crow‑era reform school, he asks you to inhabit the boys’ world — its routines, its silences, its sudden ruptures — until the brutality becomes inseparable from the landscape itself.

The story is rooted in real history, and Ross treats that history with a kind of solemn patience. He doesn’t sensationalise the abuse; he lets it sit in the frame, unadorned, impossible to look away from. The camera lingers on faces, on gestures, on the uneasy stillness of a place designed to break children. You feel the weight of the institution not through exposition but through the way the boys move, the way they watch each other, the way hope flickers and dims.

What’s striking is the visual language. Ross favours images that seem to breathe — long takes, unexpected angles, compositions that feel almost tactile. It’s demanding, because he isn’t guiding you with conventional dramatic beats. He’s inviting you into a state of attention, asking you to experience the boys’ vulnerability and resilience from the inside rather than as observers.

The result is purposeful, unsettling, and deeply human. A story of racism and institutional violence told without melodrama, without shortcuts, and without compromise. It’s not an easy watch, but it’s not meant to be.

Monitor: Henry Moore — 11.10pm, BBC Four

A 1960 programme in which Hugh Weldon visits Moore. Television archive material of this kind offers something modern profiles often cannot: the artist speaking before his reputation has hardened completely into history.

Henry Moore at Home — 11.35pm, BBC Four

Moore guides viewers around his own art collection. There is always something revealing about discovering what artists themselves choose to live with.

Face to Face: Henry Moore — 12.25am, BBC Four

John Freeman interviews Moore in the famously austere Face to Face format. No gimmicks, nowhere to hide, just questions and answers. A fine conclusion to the evening.

Tuesday 29 September

The American Buffalo — 3.50pm, PBS America

Ken Burns turns his attention to the buffalo and, inevitably, to America itself. The near-destruction of the animal becomes inseparable from westward expansion, Indigenous dispossession and the mythology of the frontier. Burns can sometimes take his time getting somewhere, but when the subject deserves space, that becomes a strength.

Blue Lights — 9pm, BBC One, 1/6

The Belfast police drama returns. A community event begins to spiral, placing officers back inside the complicated network of loyalties, grudges and pressures that made the earlier series so compelling. Its great strength has always been its refusal to reduce policing in Northern Ireland to simple heroics.

Malcolm X — 10.40pm, BBC One (1992)

Spike Lee doesn’t approach Malcolm X as a monument. He treats him as a man in motion — someone whose beliefs, loyalties and sense of self kept shifting as he tried to make sense of a country determined to deny him dignity. That’s why the film needs its full three‑hour sweep. It isn’t just recounting events; it’s tracing a life lived in chapters, each one reshaping the next.

Denzel Washington’s performance is the spine of it. He doesn’t imitate Malcolm so much as inhabit him, letting the swagger of the early years give way to discipline, then conviction, then a kind of hard‑won clarity. You watch him evolve — the hustler, the prisoner, the minister, the international figure — and Washington makes each transformation feel inevitable without ever losing the man underneath. It’s one of those performances where you forget you’re watching an actor.

Lee matches that intensity with scale. Nightclubs, prison cells, mosques, Harlem streets, Mecca — the film moves through them with purpose, never rushing, never padding. The politics are present, of course, but they’re rooted in experience: the racism Malcolm endured, the community he fought for, the fractures within the movements he joined. The film refuses to freeze him into a single pose. It shows the contradictions, the growth, the moments of doubt, the flashes of revelation.

By the time it reaches its final stretch, the epic length feels earned. You’ve travelled with him, seen the cost of his convictions, and understood why his voice still echoes. 

In Ten Pictures: Britney — 11.10pm, BBC Three

Britney Spears’ extraordinary and often disturbing public life reconstructed through ten photographs. The format works when the images become doorways into larger questions about fame, control and the voracious celebrity culture that surrounded her.

Wednesday 30 September

Bridge of Spies — 6.15pm, Film4 (2015)

Spielberg treats the Cold War as a landscape of quiet manoeuvres rather than grand theatrics, and Bridge of Spies is one of his most elegant explorations of that world. Everything here is measured: the diplomacy, the paranoia, the moral pressure. Tom Hanks plays James Donovan with that steady, unshowy conviction he does better than almost anyone — a lawyer who finds himself negotiating the exchange of Soviet spy Rudolf Abel for downed American pilot Gary Powers, and refuses to abandon the principles that brought him into the job in the first place.

The film moves with a calm confidence, each scene tightening the moral stakes without ever resorting to bombast. Berlin is rendered as a place of frost and fracture, a city where every conversation feels like it might be overheard. Spielberg’s restraint is deliberate: he wants you to feel the weight of diplomacy, the slow grind of negotiation, the way ordinary decency becomes radical in a climate built on suspicion.

And then there’s Mark Rylance. His Abel is a marvel of understatement — a man who seems to occupy the frame without disturbing it, speaking softly, observing everything, revealing almost nothing. It’s one of those performances where the smallest gesture carries the most weight. He steals scenes not by dominating them, but by refusing to perform in the way everyone expects.

The result is a Cold War drama that’s quietly gripping, beautifully crafted, and anchored by two actors who understand that tension doesn’t need noise. It’s a film about integrity under pressure, and Spielberg gives it the space to breathe.

The Shaman’s Grave — 8pm, BBC Four

Germany, 1934. The bones of an ancient priestess are exhumed and appropriated by the National Socialists in support of Aryan mythology. A fascinating reminder that authoritarian regimes do not merely rewrite recent history; they frequently attempt to annex the ancient past as well.

11.25pm – Shame (2011), Film4

McQueen’s films never give you a comfortable angle, and Shame is the one where that refusal becomes the whole point. It’s a portrait of addiction stripped of melodrama, glamour or tidy psychology — just a man circling the same impulses, the same rituals, the same hollow aftermath, until the repetition itself becomes suffocating. Michael Fassbender commits to it with a kind of frightening honesty. There’s no vanity in the performance, no attempt to soften the edges. He plays Brandon as someone who has built his life around avoidance, and the cost of that avoidance is written into every gesture.

The film’s bleakness isn’t decorative. McQueen shoots New York as a place of glass, steel and distance — beautiful in a way that feels hostile, a city that reflects Brandon back at himself without offering any warmth. The camera holds him in long, unbroken takes, forcing you to sit with the discomfort rather than escape it through editing. When Carey Mulligan’s character enters the story, the dynamic shifts: her vulnerability exposes his, and suddenly the emotional isolation he’s been maintaining looks less like control and more like collapse.

What makes Shame so unsettling is its refusal to explain. There’s no neat origin story, no therapeutic breakthrough, no final act redemption. McQueen isn’t interested in diagnosing Brandon; he’s interested in showing what it feels like to be trapped inside a life that looks functional from the outside and is anything but. The film’s power comes from that restraint — the sense that everything you need to understand is already there, in the silence, in the repetition, in the way Fassbender’s face tightens when he’s trying not to feel anything at all.

It’s a remarkable piece of filmmaking, but not something you put on to wind down a night. It asks for attention, patience and a willingness to sit with discomfort. And it earns all of it.

Hammer: Heroes, Legends and Monsters — 12.45am, Sky Arts

A celebration of the studio that gave British horror its own unmistakable combination of Gothic colour, blood, sex and theatricality. Hammer’s Dracula and Frankenstein films were once dismissed as lurid entertainment; their visual influence now seems undeniable.

Thursday 1 October

The Holdovers— 9pm, Film4 (2023)

Payne has a knack for stories that look modest on the surface and then quietly open up into something far more generous. The Holdovers is one of his best: a Christmas tale that refuses to be sentimental, a comedy that keeps finding pockets of bruised humanity, a drama that understands how people can be stuck without quite knowing it.

Paul Giamatti’s Mr Hunham is a marvel of irritation — a man so entrenched in his own disappointment that he’s practically fossilised. He’s funny, but not in a way that asks for approval; the humour comes from how thoroughly he’s barricaded himself behind intellect and routine. Opposite him, Dominic Sessa’s Angus Tully has that brittle teenage bravado that cracks the moment anyone looks too closely. They’re both stranded at Barton Academy for the holidays, two people who would never choose each other’s company and yet slowly, almost reluctantly, begin to matter.

And then there’s Da’Vine Joy Randolph. She gives the film its centre of gravity. Her Mary carries grief like a weight she’s learned to balance, and Randolph plays her with such warmth and sorrow that every scene she’s in deepens the film. She doesn’t push for emotion; she lets it rise naturally, and when it does, it’s devastating.

Payne keeps the tone beautifully judged — warm but never sugary, sharp but never cruel. The period detail is lived‑in rather than nostalgic, the humour dry, the pacing unhurried. What emerges is a story about unlikely connection, about people who’ve been sidelined by life finding a way, briefly, to step back into it.

It’s tender, funny, and quietly profound. A winter film that understands the season isn’t always merry, but that kindness, when it arrives, can feel like a small miracle.

The Client — 9pm, Legend (1994)

John Grisham adaptation with Susan Sarandon and a young Brad Renfro. A boy who knows too much about a mob murder becomes trapped between prosecutors and organised crime. Glossy 1990s legal thriller territory, but Sarandon gives it steel.

Florence Foster Jenkins — 11.05pm, BBC Two (2016)

Meryl Streep plays the famously wealthy New York socialite whose love of singing vastly exceeded her ability to do it. Hugh Grant is particularly good as the husband trying to sustain both Florence’s dreams and the elaborate illusion surrounding her.

Friday 2 October

War — 9pm, Sky Atlantic, also shown at 2am early Friday, catch-up via NOW

Dominic West and Sienna Miller lead a glossy legal drama that embraces the pleasures of the genre rather than apologising for them. Big personalities, courtroom manoeuvring and moral ambiguity: this looks designed to be consumed rather than merely admired.

Scarface — 9pm, Legend (1983)

De Palma doesn’t do restraint here — he builds a world of neon, sweat and cocaine where everything is dialled up past sanity, and then lets Al Pacino tear through it like a man convinced excess is the same thing as destiny. Tony Montana’s rise is all swagger and momentum, a swagger so intoxicating that generations have mistaken it for aspiration. But the film itself is far clearer: this is a man poisoning every room he enters, burning every bridge, destroying anything that might tether him to humanity.

Pacino’s performance is volcanic, but there’s method in the madness. He plays Tony as someone who believes he can outshout consequence, a man whose hunger is so ferocious it becomes grotesque. De Palma matches him with operatic flourishes — the camera swooping, the colours screaming, the violence erupting without warning. It’s vulgar, deliberately so, because the world Tony builds is vulgar. The film isn’t celebrating it; it’s diagnosing it.

What’s often missed is how sad it is. Beneath the swagger sits a man who can’t stop escalating, who mistakes paranoia for strength, who keeps climbing even when the ladder is clearly on fire. By the time the final act arrives, the excess has curdled into inevitability. The fall isn’t a twist — it’s the only possible ending for someone who’s spent the entire film proving he can’t live in any world that isn’t built entirely around him.

Pet Shop Boys Night — from 9.05pm, BBC Four

An evening devoted to Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe, whose combination of dance music, melancholy, irony and immaculate pop intelligence has proved remarkably durable.

Pet Shop Boys at the BBC — 9.05pm, BBC Four

Archive performances remind us how many great singles there are. The Pet Shop Boys understood that pop could be emotionally direct and archly detached at the same time.

The Substance — 10pm, BBC Two (2024)

Coralie Fargeat doesn’t nibble at her themes — she bites straight through them. The Substance is a ferocious piece of body‑horror satire, a film that takes the entertainment industry’s obsession with youth and beauty and pushes it to a grotesque, hilarious, stomach‑turning extreme. Demi Moore is superb as a star whose relevance is slipping, her performance pitched perfectly between icy control and mounting desperation.

The film’s central conceit — a product that allows you to generate a younger, “better” version of yourself — is played not as sci‑fi but as nightmare logic. What follows is messy, excessive, and very deliberately impossible to look away from. Fargeat’s images are loud, sticky, and confrontational; subtlety is not on the menu, and that’s precisely why it works.

Beneath the splatter sits a razor‑sharp anger about how women are consumed, discarded and remade by an industry that worships youth while punishing ageing.

The Last Samurai — 10.45pm, ITV1 (2003)

Tom Cruise stars as an American soldier drawn into Japan during the turbulent transition of the Meiji period. Historically simplified, certainly, but handsome, sincere and powered by an excellent Ken Watanabe performance.

The Wicker Man — 12.15am, BBC Two (1973)

Hardy’s original remains one of British cinema’s strangest, most enduring creations — a film that feels less like a mystery and more like a ritual you’ve accidentally wandered into. Edward Woodward’s devout, increasingly frantic policeman arrives on a remote Scottish island in search of a missing girl, only to find a community whose beliefs, songs and sunlit cheerfulness unsettle him more than any overt threat.

The collision between Christianity and paganism is handled with unnerving calm. Nothing on Summerisle is played as overtly sinister; it’s the normality of the islanders’ behaviour that makes Woodward’s desperation feel so stark. Christopher Lee, in one of his finest performances, presides over it all with a kind of aristocratic serenity — charming, articulate, and utterly convinced of the logic guiding his people.

Folk music, police procedural, religious debate and creeping dread shouldn’t coexist, yet here they fuse into something singular. The film’s power lies in how gently it leads you toward horror, how the bright colours and open landscapes make the final revelation feel both inevitable and shocking.

Forget the remake. This is the real thing — a wonderfully unsettling masterpiece.

Carlito’s Way — 12.25am, Legend (1993)

Al Pacino plays former gangster Carlito Brigante, attempting to escape the criminal world only to discover that old loyalties and bad choices have long memories. De Palma directs with swagger, Sean Penn is wonderfully reptilian, and the final stretch is a masterclass in suspense.

The Pet Shop Boys evening continues with Reel Stories: Pet Shop Boys, the 2023 programme in which Tennant and Lowe sit down with Dermot O’Leary and revisit clips from their career, before concluding with their 2024 Radio 2 in the Park headline performance from the Dreamworld: The Greatest Hits Live tour. Both are also on iPlayer.

Streaming

Netflix

Becoming Led Zeppelin — from Sunday 27 September
A documentary tracing the origins of Led Zeppelin through new interviews, previously unseen footage and performances. The great attraction is that the story is largely told by the band themselves. For devotees there will be familiar territory, but unseen archive material involving Zeppelin is hardly something to complain about.

East of Eden — all seven episodes from Thursday 1 October
Another adaptation of John Steinbeck’s sprawling family saga. Steinbeck gives television plenty to work with: sibling rivalry, parental failure, inherited guilt, money, morality and the constant possibility that people might become something other than what their families expect. Seven episodes should at least give the story room to breathe.

Channel 4 Streaming / Walter Presents

3PU: Paris Police Psychiatric Unit — all six episodes from Friday 2 October
A French thriller centred on the intersection between policing and psychiatry. Walter Presents has built its reputation on European dramas that assume viewers are capable of following something more demanding than the conventional procedural, so this is one to investigate.

Kill Jackie — all eight episodes from Friday 2 October
Catherine Zeta-Jones plays Jackie Price, who has traded her former life as one of Europe’s biggest cocaine dealers for the apparently respectable world of art dealing. Unfortunately, respectable reinvention is rarely enough to make a criminal past disappear. An enjoyably lurid premise and exactly the sort of thing that could become a weekend binge.

Leaving Soon

Stan & Ollie — BBC iPlayer, available until Sunday 27 September
Steve Coogan and John C. Reilly capture Laurel and Hardy late in their careers, touring Britain as their fame begins to fade. Rather than simply impersonating the comedy legends, both actors find the affection, disappointment and dependency beneath the partnership. Gentle, sad and very good. Catch it while you can.

Documentary: The Neo‑Nazi Who Lived a Secret Gay Life

Tahnaiya Russell’s documentary on Nicky Crane is a stark, absorbing portrait of a man living two violently contradictory lives — a notorious British Movement street fighter and a regular on London’s gay scene. It presents Crane’s brutality plainly, recounting incidents such as leading mobs attacking South Asians in Brick Lane and Black cinema‑goers in Woolwich , while also revealing the private world he kept hidden: the camp voice, the sensitivity, the nights spent at Heaven disco .

The film situates Crane within the fractured Britain of the 1970s and 80s — economic decline, racial tension, tabloid hostility, and the rising danger of the AIDS crisis . It shows how youth subcultures became battlegrounds where violence and extremism thrived . What emerges is not an excuse, but a refusal to flatten him: a man driven by delusion, insecurity, symbolism, and the need for belonging, capable of both harm and unexpected tenderness .

It’s a fascinating, unsettling piece of work — one that confronts the era’s anti‑gay hostility, the political weaponisation of sexuality, and the contradictions inside someone who caused real damage yet lived a life at odds with his own ideology.

Read our full review

Availability: The documentary is now available in full on YouTube.

 

 

Radio

Saturday 26 September

Seven Ages of Man with Michael Rosen — 10am and 10.15am, Radio 4
Rosen remains one of those broadcasters capable of taking a large subject and making it sound like a conversation rather than a lecture. Two compact instalments worth making time for.

Mapping India: The World’s Largest Count — 12.05pm, BBC World Service
India at census scale is almost impossible to comprehend: an enormous administrative exercise that is simultaneously about population, identity, resources and political power. Radio is well suited to getting behind the sheer numbers.

Sunday 27 September

The Soldier’s Return — 3pm, Radio 4
Melvyn Bragg’s novel turns its attention to the consequences of war after the soldier comes home. The battlefield may be behind him, but the conflict continues in family life, memory and the difficulty of returning to ordinary existence.

Monday 28 September

The Essay: The Sounding Isle — 9.45pm, Radio 3
Kate Kennedy follows in the footsteps of Dame Ethel Smyth, whose 1886 walking tour of Cornwall became a source of inspiration. A lovely premise: a contemporary composer encountering landscape through the traces left by another musician more than a century earlier.

Tuesday 29 September

A Place Called Home — 2.15pm, Radio 4
The first of six loosely connected dramas set against Britain’s housing crisis. Tanika Gupta places us inside a stressed West London tower block. Housing statistics are everywhere; drama can do something rather different by showing what those pressures actually feel like from inside a home.

Pop Art Remix — 4pm, Radio 4
Artist Gavin Turk challenges the assumption that Pop Art begins and ends in America. He looks back to the 1956 This Is Tomorrow exhibition at London’s Whitechapel Gallery, where British artists were already responding to transatlantic consumer culture with a mixture of attraction and suspicion. Turk’s own Pop, his 1993 reimagining of Warhol’s Elvis, makes him an unusually appropriate guide.

Wednesday 30 September

The Lives and Loves of a She-Devil — 3pm, Radio 4 Extra
Fay Weldon’s gloriously savage tale of marriage, revenge and female reinvention. The title alone announces that respectability is unlikely to survive intact.

Thursday 1 October

The Global Jigsaw — 10.30am, BBC World Service
This edition turns to the Tigris and Euphrates, rivers that are simultaneously geographical features, historical arteries and sources of modern political tension. The best World Service programmes are particularly good at showing how geography becomes geopolitics.

Friday 2 October

Cuttin’ It — Radio 4
Charlene James’s drama follows two Somali girls attending the same South London school who are not friends and who hold sharply opposed attitudes towards female genital mutilation — one shaped by ideas of cultural meaning, the other by an understanding of its brutality.

There is no disguising the subject. It is difficult material and not easy listening. That is precisely why drama can be useful here: it allows competing experiences and loyalties to be voiced without pretending that the harm involved is abstract.

That is Culture Vulture for 26 September–2 October 2026: an unusually strong week in which the archive is every bit as tempting as the new material. If I had to clear three spaces in the diary, they would be for Finding Britain’s Slave Traders, An Inspector Calls and Pet Shop Boys Night — but there is plenty around them worth staying in for.

Selections and reviews by Pat Harrington

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Culture Vulture 12–18 September 2026

There is plenty to get stuck into this week, but three things stand out. The Last Night of the Proms remains one of those great television occasions, even if you normally only dip into classical music. England Till I Die looks like the most potentially unsettling piece of factual television, following an East Sussex anti-immigration activist over nine months. And film-wise, it is hard to look past The Red Shoes, Powell and Pressburger’s extraordinary 1948 masterpiece, still looking and feeling unlike almost anything else.

There is strong music programming too, with Chaka Khan and Simple Minds headlining Radio 2 in the Park, while BBC Four gives Friday night over to the Rolling Stones. Film4 supplies plenty across the week, and the streaming services offer a mix of crime, dystopia, politics and dysfunctional spies.

Saturday 12 September

The Red Shoes — 9.50am, BBC Two (1948)

Powell and Pressburger at full voltage: colour as emotion, movement as destiny, and a story that understands, with unnerving clarity, the price artists sometimes pay for brilliance. The film opens with a kind of deceptive lightness — the bustle of students, the chatter of rehearsal rooms — but even in those early scenes there’s a sense of something larger gathering, a tension between ordinary life and the pull of the stage.

Moira Shearer’s Vicky Page is one of those performances that seems to glow from within. She’s young, ambitious, and utterly sincere, and the film treats her not as a symbol but as a person caught between two forces: the joy of creation and the demands of those who claim ownership over it. Anton Walbrook’s Lermontov, all icy poise and implacable will, becomes the gravitational centre of the film. He doesn’t shout, he doesn’t threaten; he simply expects the world to bend to his vision. And in the world of The Red Shoes, that expectation is almost enough to make it happen.

The famous ballet sequence — still astonishing, still unmatched — feels like cinema stepping into another dimension. It’s not a filmed performance; it’s a dream, a hallucination, a manifesto. Powell and Pressburger let the stage dissolve into pure imagination, and for a few minutes you’re watching something that doesn’t seem bound by the usual rules of filmmaking. It’s the moment where the film declares, without hesitation, that art can be overwhelming, intoxicating, and dangerous.

What follows is inevitable, tragic, and strangely beautiful. The film isn’t moralising; it isn’t wagging a finger about ambition. It’s simply honest about the cost. For some people, the choice between life and art isn’t a choice at all — and The Red Shoes understands that with a kind of terrible sympathy.

A masterpiece, yes, but more than that: a film that still feels alive, still capable of unsettling you, still able to make you think about the things you love and what they demand in return.

Lawrence of Arabia — 1.30pm, BBC Two (1962)

Lean’s desert epic isn’t just large‑scale cinema — it’s cinema that seems to expand as you watch it, pushing outward into myth, psychology and the uneasy glamour of heroism. The first thing that strikes you is the sheer physical beauty of it: the desert not as backdrop but as a kind of vast, indifferent character, swallowing men, ambitions and empires without distinction. Freddie Young’s cinematography gives the landscape a monumental stillness, and Lean lets that stillness interrogate the people moving through it.

At the centre is Peter O’Toole, incandescent and unsettling. His Lawrence is not a straightforward adventurer but a man drawn to extremes — extremes of courage, extremes of self‑invention, extremes of delusion. O’Toole plays him with a kind of brittle radiance, as if the performance itself is lit from inside. You see the charisma, the intelligence, the recklessness, and the slow, painful recognition that the legend he’s building is also consuming him.

The film’s sweep is extraordinary, but what makes it endure is its ambivalence. It understands the seduction of grand narratives — the lone visionary, the desert campaign, the forging of alliances — but it also understands the cost. Lean never lets the spectacle drown out the politics or the psychology. The triumphs feel real, but so do the fractures, the betrayals, the dawning sense that Lawrence’s story is as much about the limits of empire as the possibilities of individual will.

Long, certainly. Magnificent, unquestionably. But more than that: a film that still feels like a challenge — to the viewer, to history, and to the idea of heroism itself.

Rosaline — 3pm, Film4 (2022)

A playful spin on Romeo and Juliet, yes, but what makes Rosaline interesting is the way it quietly punctures the solemnity that usually clings to Verona. By shifting the frame to Romeo’s overlooked ex, the film exposes the fragile architecture of the “great romance” — how much of it is timing, how much is teenage melodrama, and how much is simply who gets written into the centre of the story.

Kaitlyn Dever’s Rosaline is sharp, wounded, and wonderfully unimpressed by the myth-making around her. Through her eyes, the familiar beats of Shakespeare’s tragedy become something closer to a comedy of misplaced certainty. The film doesn’t mock the original; it just recognises that the intensity of first love can look very different once you’re no longer the one swept up in it.

There’s a breezy confidence to the whole thing — modern without being smug, affectionate without being reverent. And beneath the jokes, there’s a small but sincere point: change the narrator, and the legend shifts. The story you thought you knew becomes something else entirely.

Vera Cruz — 6.35pm, 5 Action (1954)

Aldrich’s Vera Cruz is one of those westerns that feels like it’s already leaning toward the genre’s darker future — cynical, sharp‑edged, and amused by its own ruthlessness. Gary Cooper and Burt Lancaster make a terrific, uneasy pairing: Cooper with that worn, moral gravity he carried so naturally, Lancaster all swagger, teeth and opportunism. They’re heading south not for honour or destiny but for profit, and the film never pretends otherwise.

What’s striking is how modern the tone feels. The Mexican setting isn’t treated as exotic backdrop; it’s a political landscape full of shifting loyalties, revolutionaries, mercenaries and people trying to survive the chaos. Aldrich shoots it with a kind of muscular clarity — dust, sweat, sudden violence — and lets the humour bubble up from the characters’ sheer audacity. Lancaster in particular seems to enjoy every moment of being a charming bastard.

The film’s cynicism isn’t bleak; it’s invigorating. You can see the seeds of the spaghetti western here, the move away from clean moral lines and toward something more ambiguous, more dangerous, more fun. Vera Cruz knows exactly what it is: a tough, stylish adventure where trust is a luxury and everyone’s playing an angle.

Last Night of the Proms — 7.10pm, BBC Two; 9pm, BBC One. Catch up via BBC iPlayer.

One of those fixtures in the television calendar that needs little introduction, beginning on BBC Two before moving across to BBC One for the climax of the evening.

Avengers: Endgame — 8.15pm, Channel 4 (2019)

A film built as a finale and delivered as an event. Endgame arrives carrying the weight of a decade’s worth of Marvel storytelling, and it doesn’t shy away from the scale of that responsibility. It’s unabashedly big, unabashedly emotional, and determined to give every character and every long‑running thread its moment.

The opening stretch is unexpectedly quiet, almost reflective, before the film swings into its playful time‑heist detour — a victory lap through the MCU’s own history. Then comes the vast, operatic climax, a sequence so crowded with heroes and spectacle that the screen feels barely able to contain it.

What keeps the film grounded is its sincerity. Beneath the CGI and the noise, there’s a clear understanding that endings matter. Some arcs close gently, others with thunderous fanfare, but each feels like part of a story finally being tied off.

Long, loud and built for maximum impact — but also surprisingly heartfelt. A blockbuster that knows exactly what it means to its audience.

Radio 2 in the Park: Chaka Khan — from 9pm, BBC Two. Catch up via BBC iPlayer.

Chaka Khan, the soul, funk and disco queen, is the headline draw on day one of the annual shindig. Her set, shown in full from 10pm, should be a crowd-pleaser.

Before that comes an hour of highlights from Stirling City Park, including performances from ABC, Lulu, Emeli Sandé and Texas.

The evening then heads into the archives, with Chaka Khan at the BBC at 11pm, followed by Texas at the BBC at 11.40pm.

Saint Omer — 1.50am, BBC Two (2022)

Alice Diop’s Saint Omer is a courtroom drama in form but something far more unsettling in effect. Inspired by a real case, the film approaches its subject with a calm, almost forensic stillness, refusing melodrama and letting the details speak for themselves. That restraint is precisely what makes it so gripping. Every pause, every hesitation, every quiet admission seems to echo in the room.

Diop isn’t interested in easy judgments. She’s interested in the uncomfortable territory where empathy, horror and uncertainty overlap. Through the eyes of Rama, a novelist observing the trial, the film becomes a study of how we try — and often fail — to understand the inner lives of others. The performances are extraordinary in their understatement; nothing is pushed, nothing is embellished, and the result is a kind of emotional slow burn that’s far more powerful than a conventional courtroom thriller.

Demanding, yes. You have to meet the film on its own terms. But the reward is a drama that lingers long after it ends — precise, unsettling, and quietly devastating.

Sunday 13 September

Gunfight at the O.K. Corral — 2.55pm, 5 Action (1957)

A western cut from the old studio cloth, polished, purposeful and carried by the sheer presence of its stars. Burt Lancaster’s Wyatt Earp is all upright resolve, a man who seems carved out of frontier duty, while Kirk Douglas’s Doc Holliday brings the volatility — charm, danger, and that flicker of self‑destruction that Douglas could summon so effortlessly. Together they give the film its spine: one steady, one unpredictable, both irresistible to watch.

Robert Aldrich directs with a kind of muscular classicism. The film isn’t trying to reinvent the genre; it’s honouring it. Wide streets, dusty saloons, men circling each other with the knowledge that violence is both inevitable and absurd. The build‑up to the famous showdown is deliberate, almost ritualistic, and when the bullets finally fly, it feels less like action and more like the fulfilment of a legend Hollywood had been polishing for decades.

Breakfast at Tiffany’s — 8pm, Sky Arts (1961)

A film wrapped in charm, glamour and that unmistakable early‑60s sheen, yet one that carries a complicated legacy. Audrey Hepburn’s Holly Golightly remains the centre of gravity — a performance so light it almost floats, yet anchored by a melancholy the film never fully names. She gives Holly a kind of shimmering fragility: a woman performing freedom while quietly terrified of what real closeness might demand. It’s one of cinema’s defining turns, and still astonishing in its precision.

George Peppard provides the steadier counterpoint, all quiet observation and gentle exasperation, while Henry Mancini’s score does half the emotional work — Moon River drifting through the film like a memory you’re not quite ready to confront. The elegance is undeniable.

But the film’s dated elements are impossible to ignore, and rightly so. Some choices now land with a thud, reminders of an era Hollywood preferred to gloss over. Acknowledging that doesn’t diminish Hepburn’s achievement; if anything, it sharpens it. Her Holly survives the film’s flaws and transcends them, becoming one of those rare characters who feels both iconic and strangely intimate.

A classic with caveats, but Hepburn’s performance remains untouchable.

Unmissable Moments at the BBC Proms 2026 — 8pm, BBC Four. Catch up via BBC iPlayer.

Two hours of mixed delights from this year’s Proms.

Radio 2 in the Park: Simple Minds — 10pm, BBC Two. Catch up via BBC iPlayer.

Simple Minds take centre stage for the second night of Radio 2 in the Park, bringing a formidable catalogue of songs with them.

Vesper — 11.10pm, Film4 (2022)

A striking piece of European science fiction that proves ambition isn’t measured in budget. Vesper imagines a future ravaged by ecological collapse, but it does so with a painter’s eye — damp forests, biotechnological oddities, and a world where every living thing seems half‑engineered and half‑feral. It’s grim, but not in the usual dystopian way; the film’s bleakness feels organic, lived‑in, almost mournful.

Raffiella Chapman gives the story its pulse. Her Vesper is resourceful, wary, and quietly determined, navigating a landscape where survival depends on ingenuity rather than firepower. The film’s strength lies in its restraint: no bombastic action, no glossy spectacle, just a slow, unsettling immersion in a future where nature has mutated beyond human control.

For a low‑budget production, it’s visually bold — intricate world‑building, strange textures, and a sense of scale achieved through imagination rather than money. The result is a sci‑fi film that feels genuinely otherworldly.

Ambitious, atmospheric and far more memorable than many bigger, louder dystopias.

Monday 14 September

Oliver! — 6.05pm, Film4 (1968)

Carol Reed’s lavish musical takes Oliver Twist and turns it into a full‑throated spectacle — big sets, big choruses, and Lionel Bart’s songs delivered with absolute gusto. It’s the kind of production that wears its scale proudly, every frame polished, every number staged to fill the screen. The story’s darker edges are softened, of course, but they’re still there if you look: the poverty, the fear, the precariousness of Oliver’s world.

What stands out now is how the film handles the women of Dickens’ novel, especially Nancy. Her arc gives the musical its emotional weight, a reminder that beneath the bright tunes lies a story shaped by sacrifice and danger. Counter Culture recently explored this in our piece on the women of Oliver Twist, and Reed’s version of Nancy carries that same tragic force — a character who anchors the film even as the spectacle swirls around her.

As a musical, though, Oliver! remains irresistible. Big tunes, big performances, and an Oscar‑winning production that still knows exactly how to entertain.

Epstein: Money, Power and Abuse — Panorama Special — 8pm, BBC One.

A Panorama special examining Jeffrey Epstein, the money and influence surrounding him, and the abuse at the heart of the story.

The Thin Blue Line — 10pm, Sky Documentaries (1988)

Errol Morris’s landmark documentary remains one of the clearest examples of non‑fiction cinema changing the real world. Through meticulous interviews and stylised reconstructions, Morris dismantles the official story surrounding the murder of Dallas police officer Robert W. Wood, exposing contradictions, coached testimony and a prosecution more interested in a conviction than the truth. The film’s impact wasn’t theoretical: Randall Dale Adams, the man at the centre of the case, had his conviction overturned in 1989 after twelve years behind bars, with prosecutors declining to retry him. Adams walked free, while the evidence increasingly pointed toward David Ray Harris — who later ended up on death row for an unrelated killing.

Calm, precise and quietly devastating, The Thin Blue Line shows how a documentary can do more than illuminate a case; it can correct one.

Get Carter — 11.05pm, BBC Two (1971)

Jack Carter returns to Newcastle for his brother’s funeral and quickly realises the official story doesn’t add up. What begins as a family obligation turns into a cold, methodical hunt for the truth, dragging him through a city where every door he opens reveals something more rotten than the last.

Caine plays Carter with unnerving stillness — a man who already knows the world is corrupt and is simply confirming the details. The violence is abrupt, the humour dry enough to sting, and the landscape itself feels complicit: terraces, slag heaps, concrete estates, all part of the film’s bleak moral weather. Mike Hodges strips away glamour until only cause, effect and consequence remain.

Brutal, unsentimental and still one of the finest British crime films ever made.

Tuesday 15 September

Garbo: Where Did You Go? — 8pm, Sky Arts.

Noomi Rapace narrates a portrait of the enigmatic Greta Garbo, one of cinema’s most famous and famously elusive stars.

The Royals: Time to Go? — 9pm, Channel 4. Catch up via Channel 4 Streaming.

A look at the monarchy and the increasingly familiar question of what place, if any, the institution should have in modern Britain.

Sicario — 10.40pm, BBC One (2015)

Denis Villeneuve’s border thriller is tense, morally murky and superbly controlled, with Emily Blunt, Benicio del Toro and Josh Brolin all excellent.

The Proposition — 11.35pm, Talking Pictures TV (2004)

A brutal, sun‑blasted Australian western built on a screenplay by Nick Cave — and if you know his work, the fingerprints are unmistakable. Violence, guilt, family, the harsh indifference of the landscape: Cave threads all of it through a story that feels both mythic and painfully human. As a big admirer of Cave, it’s hard not to relish how his sensibility shapes the film’s rhythm — the dialogue spare, the atmosphere heavy, the morality scorched at the edges.

The plot is simple and savage. Captain Stanley offers outlaw Charlie Burns an impossible bargain: hunt down and kill his older brother Arthur, a man responsible for atrocities, in exchange for the freedom of their youngest sibling. What follows is a slow, grim march through dust, heat and conscience. John Hillcoat directs with a stark, unblinking eye, letting the landscape do half the storytelling — a place where civilisation is a thin veneer and violence feels almost elemental.

Performances are flinty and lived‑in. Guy Pearce’s Charlie is a man hollowed out by loyalty and dread, while Danny Huston’s Arthur moves with the unsettling calm of someone who has already accepted damnation. The film’s brutality isn’t gratuitous; it’s part of the moral weather Cave and Hillcoat conjure so effectively.

Bleak, poetic and unforgettable — a western that feels like a ballad written in blood and dust.

You Were Never Really Here — 12.40am, Film4 (2017)

Lynne Ramsay and Joaquin Phoenix deliver a bruising, fragmented revenge film that is far more interested in trauma than conventional action.

Wednesday 16 September

Greed — 9pm, Film4 (2019)

Michael Winterbottom takes aim at obscene wealth, fast fashion and self-satisfied celebrity culture, with Steve Coogan doing what Steve Coogan does very well.

A River Runs Through It — 9pm, GREAT! TV (1992)

Robert Redford’s beautifully photographed drama follows two brothers growing up in early‑20th‑century Montana, their lives shaped by family, faith and the quiet rituals of fly‑fishing. What begins as a simple coming‑of‑age story deepens into something far more reflective: a film about the ties that bind, the choices that break us, and the things we can never quite say to the people we love.

The landscapes are extraordinary — rivers, forests, long summer light — all captured with a painterly calm that mirrors the film’s emotional restraint. Brad Pitt and Craig Sheffer give quietly affecting performances, their characters drifting together and apart as adulthood complicates the certainties of childhood. Redford’s narration adds a gentle melancholy, turning the film into a kind of elegy for a time, a place and a family that can’t be held onto.

Graceful, contemplative and deeply felt. A film that moves like the river at its centre: steady, luminous and quietly unforgettable.

England Till I Die — 10pm, Channel 4. Catch up via Channel 4 Streaming.

A sharp and unsettling slice of reportage. Filmmaker Jamie Roberts follows Liam, an East Sussex anti-immigration activist, over nine months.

Sicario 2: Soldado — 10.40pm, BBC One (2018)

The follow-up drops Emily Blunt and doubles down on Brolin and del Toro. Darker, harsher and less subtle than the original, but still gripping.

Our Ladies — 1.45am, Film4 (2019)

A group of Catholic schoolgirls descend on Edinburgh for a choir competition and immediately discover they’re far more interested in freedom, mischief and possibility than in hitting the right notes. What follows is a chaotic, funny and unexpectedly tender day out, as friendships shift, loyalties wobble and each girl tests the limits of who she might become once the school walls aren’t around her.

The film’s strength is its honesty. It doesn’t romanticise teenage rebellion, but it doesn’t scold it either. The humour is sharp, the dialogue rings true, and the performances capture that mix of bravado and vulnerability that defines being young and desperate to escape the version of yourself adults insist on seeing. Edinburgh becomes part of the adventure — messy, tempting, full of corners where trouble and opportunity blur together.

Funny, warm and considerably less pious than their teachers might like. A small gem of a coming‑of‑age film.

Thursday 17 September

The Secret Life of Bees — 7pm, Channel 5.

A look at the extraordinary variety of Britain’s bees — some 270 species — exploring their history, science and habitats. It begins with a visit to King Charles III’s bees at Highgrove.

Heatwaves & Food Prices: Saving on Your Supermarket Shop? — Tonight — 7.30pm, ITV1/STV.

Kate Quilton explores how the UK’s heatwaves have affected farmers and food prices.

The Theory of Everything — 9pm, Film4 (2014)

Eddie Redmayne won the Oscar for his portrayal of Stephen Hawking, with Felicity Jones equally impressive as Jane Hawking.

RED — 10.45pm, ITV1 (2010)

A slick, tongue‑in‑cheek action comedy built around the idea that the world’s most dangerous operatives are now supposed to be enjoying quiet retirement — and are utterly incapable of it. Bruce Willis’s Frank Moses is dragged back into the chaos when his past resurfaces, and he promptly reunites with a motley crew of former colleagues who are even less suited to domestic tranquillity than he is.

Helen Mirren is a delight as a refined assassin who still misses the adrenaline; John Malkovich steals scenes as a paranoid wildcard who’s usually right; and Morgan Freeman brings the easy charm of someone who’s seen everything and is still amused by most of it. The chemistry is the film’s real engine — older, sharper, funnier performers having a ball with material that lets them be both dangerous and daft.

Light, breezy and knowingly ridiculous, RED proves that retirement and tranquillity do not necessarily go together — especially when your old friends are armed to the teeth.

Io Capitano — 11.25pm, Film4 (2023)

Matteo Garrone’s migration drama follows two Senegalese teenagers, Seydou and Moussa, as they attempt the dangerous, often deadly journey to Europe — a route that promises opportunity but delivers exploitation, violence and unimaginable risk. What begins as a hopeful adventure quickly becomes a test of endurance, as the boys move through deserts, detention centres and the brutal economics of human trafficking.

Garrone films their odyssey with a stark, unblinking honesty. There’s no melodrama, no sensationalism, just the steady accumulation of hardship and small, fragile moments of kindness. The performances are remarkable in their simplicity: two boys trying to stay human in circumstances designed to strip that humanity away. The film’s power lies in its refusal to look away, and in its insistence that migration is not an abstract debate but a lived experience carried by real people with real dreams.

Tough, humane and quietly devastating — a story told with clarity, compassion and a refusal to simplify the truth.

Talking Pictures: David Lean — 11.30pm, BBC Four.

Following our Saturday selection of Lawrence of Arabia, this is a welcome opportunity to learn more about the man behind it. An archive-based insight into the life and career of director David Lean.

Friday 18 September

Shadow of a Doubt — 11am, Film4 (1943)

One of Hitchcock’s own favourites. Joseph Cotten brings menace into small-town America as Uncle Charlie, and the darkness gradually seeps through the respectable surface.

Coastal Unit — 9pm, More4. Walter Presents.

A French cop drama with a breezier touch than the genre usually allows. Brilliant rookie Lucia Passente is paired with jaded, old‑school veteran Victor Bruno Salomone, and the show leans into the fun of that mismatch — her sharp instincts and modern methods colliding with his weary pragmatism and “seen it all” attitude. The cases are serious enough, but the tone is lighter, warmer, more character‑led than the average procedural.

The coastal setting helps. Sun, sea and small‑town tensions give the series a relaxed rhythm, even when the investigations turn knotty. What keeps it engaging is the dynamic between the leads: Lucia’s energy pushing against Victor’s cynicism, each quietly learning from the other as they navigate crimes, colleagues and the odd personal complication.

Philadelphia — 9pm, GREAT! TV (1993)

Tom Hanks won his first Oscar for this landmark mainstream drama about AIDS, discrimination and dignity, with Denzel Washington alongside him.

Rolling Stones Night — from 10.10pm, BBC Four. Catch up via BBC iPlayer.

Unbelievably, the Rolling Stones are now up to their 25th studio album, and BBC Four marks their extraordinary longevity with an evening devoted to the band.

First up is a 2015 concert recorded at Hollywood’s Fonda Theatre, where the Stones performed their classic 1971 album Sticky Fingers in its entirety for the first — and, to date, only — time.

That is followed by two episodes of the 2022 series My Life as a Rolling Stone: Mick at 11.35pm, followed by Ronnie at 12.35am.

Starve Acre — 11pm, BBC Two (2023)

Matt Smith and Morfydd Clark anchor this bleak folk‑horror tale set in a Yorkshire landscape that seems determined to smother any hope. The story begins with a family grieving the loss of their young son, trying to hold themselves together in an isolated farmhouse where silence feels heavier than comfort. As Smith’s character becomes obsessed with the land’s strange history — old rituals, older stories, and something buried that should have stayed buried — the film shifts from domestic sorrow into something far more unsettling.

What makes Starve Acre effective is its restraint. The horror isn’t loud; it creeps. The countryside is shot not as pastoral beauty but as a place where ancient forces linger just out of sight, waiting for grief to weaken the boundary between the living and whatever came before. Clark brings a brittle, aching vulnerability, while Smith’s slow slide into obsession gives the film its unnerving pulse.

Bleak, atmospheric and quietly chilling — a folk‑horror story where the land itself feels like the antagonist.

Moonage Daydream — 1.20am, Channel 4 (2022)

Brett Morgen’s kaleidoscopic David Bowie documentary is less biography than sensory experience, making extensive use of Bowie’s own words, music and archive material. Take a look at the review I wrote when it was out at the cinema.

Streaming

Netflix

The Doll — all six episodes available from Wednesday 16 September.

A Polish drama centred on the ambitious Stanisław, a man determined to climb the social ladder while becoming increasingly consumed by his infatuation with Isabella.

Teenage Wasteland — available now.

Set in 1991 in blue-collar Middletown, New York, this tells the story of a teacher who creates a class called Electronic English in an attempt to connect with and engage his students.

Prime Video

You and Me Against the World — available from Friday 18 September.

Student Alma Lancaster is hiding rather a lot from her family. She is supposed to be studying law but is actually taking a filmmaking course. As if that were not enough, she is also involved with the rebellious Vadim, another part of her life unlikely to meet with family approval.

MobLand — Season 2 — episodes released weekly from Friday 18 September.

The criminal clans are back, including the Harrigans, with rivalries, alliances and family loyalties once again at the centre of things.

The Wizard of the Kremlin — available now.

A drama about the rise of Vladimir Putin and the political world surrounding his ascent to power.

Apple TV+

Slow Horses — Season 6, Episode 1 — available Wednesday 16 September.

Jackson Lamb and the dysfunctional inhabitants of Slough House return for another series.

Disney+

City of Blood — all eight episodes available Wednesday 16 September.

In a dystopian Berlin ruthlessly divided between rich and poor, sisters Phoebe, Soma, Paisa and Bea find themselves on opposite sides of the class divide. As they dig into the city’s criminal networks, they discover who is really pulling the strings.

Vampires.

Leaving Soon

Brassed Off — available on Channel 4 until Wednesday 16 September.

The Yorkshire mining community rallies around its colliery brass band against a backdrop of threatened pit closures, redundancies and a way of life being dismantled.

Coming Soon

The Diplomat — Series 4 — Netflix, available 15 October.

Radio

Saturday 12 September

The Bayeux Tapestry — 6am, 11am and 5pm, Radio 4 Extra.

An unusual recording from 1944 taking listeners through the story told by the Bayeux Tapestry.

Archive on 4: First Contact — 8pm, Radio 4.

A fascinating and difficult subject: indigenous peoples who remain uncontacted by the outside world. Survival International estimated in a November 2025 report that there are 196 uncontacted peoples around the world, chiefly in the Amazon basin.

Sunday 13 September

Between the Ears: A Circular History of the Loop — 7pm, Radio 3.

The loop — the repeated phrase, drum beat, guitar riff or fragment of sound — has become fundamental to modern music. This explores its history, including the wonderfully inventive methods of BBC Radiophonic Workshop composer Delia Derbyshire, for whom even tapping a metal lampshade with a small hammer could become raw musical material.

Monday 14–Friday 18 September

The Essay: In Voice — 9.45pm, Radio 3.

With the help of ear, nose and throat specialist Declan Costello, tenor Nicky Spence investigates how the human voice actually works. A week of essays looking at that most familiar, personal and surprisingly complicated of instruments.

Tuesday 15 September

Life as a Muse — 4pm, Radio 4.

Does the muse still have a place in the way we think about art and creativity? This considers the traditional idea of the muse while challenging some of the assumptions — and power relationships — that have come with it.

Selections and reviews by Pat Harrington

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Culture Vulture 11–17 July 2026

Spider-Man swings across the schedules this week in almost every cinematic incarnation. Over five consecutive evenings, the BBC screens the Tobey Maguire, Andrew Garfield and Tom Holland films before concluding with the spectacular animated Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse. It’s a rare opportunity to watch one of popular culture’s greatest superheroes evolve over more than twenty years while remaining true to the wit, heart and humanity that have always made Peter Parker so appealing.

Another theme running through the week is the legacy of science, war and the nuclear age. Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer is complemented by documentaries examining atomic weapons, modern technology and the changing political landscape, while historical programmes revisit Britain’s role in Palestine and America’s cultural transformation. Together they offer thoughtful viewing that feels particularly timely.

Classic cinema is equally well served. Alfred Hitchcock enjoys a well-deserved showcase, Ealing comedy is represented by one of its greatest films, and music lovers can enjoy documentaries ranging from Ian Fleming and James Bond to the opening night of the Proms. Whether you’re looking for intelligent documentaries, blockbuster entertainment or timeless classics, there’s plenty to enjoy.

TV & Film

Saturday 11 July

1.35pm | Talking Pictures TV | Obsession (1948)

Edward Dmytryk’s Obsession is a dark, elegant slice of postwar British cinema — a thriller that hums with quiet menace and moral unease. Dmytryk, exiled from Hollywood after the McCarthy witch hunts, brings a sharp outsider’s eye to London’s fog and restraint. His camera lingers on the genteel surfaces of domestic life, then lets the cracks show: jealousy, revenge, and the slow corrosion of civility.

There’s a precision to the storytelling — taut, deliberate, never hurried — yet beneath it runs a pulse of bitterness. You can feel the director’s own disillusionment bleeding into the frame, the sense of a man betrayed by his country and now dissecting betrayal itself. The performances are clipped and controlled, the tension coiled tight as piano wire.

It’s a film that rewards patience: stylish, intelligent, and quietly devastating. One of those overlooked gems that remind you how exile can sharpen an artist’s vision — turning bitterness into art, and confinement into clarity.

2.15pm | BBC Two | North by Northwest (1959)

Hitchcock’s great chase movie still feels like pure cinematic oxygen — light on its feet, effortlessly stylish, and propelled by a kind of mischievous confidence that few thrillers ever manage. Cary Grant, immaculate in that grey suit, glides through the chaos with a charm so polished it borders on defiance. He’s the perfect wrong man: suave, bewildered, and increasingly aware that the world has tilted into absurd danger around him.

The film moves with a dancer’s rhythm, shifting from urbane comedy to breath‑tightening suspense without ever losing its balance. The crop‑duster sequence remains astonishing — a stretch of open farmland turned into a stage for one of Hitchcock’s most audacious set‑pieces, where silence becomes menace and the sky itself seems to turn predatory.

And then there’s the Mount Rushmore finale, a delirious blend of spectacle and tension, as if Hitchcock decided to carve his own signature into American mythology. It’s playful, nerve‑jangling, and executed with such precision that you can feel the craft humming beneath every frame.

Decades on, North by Northwest still stands as one of cinema’s most irresistible entertainments — a thriller that understands the joy of movement, the thrill of danger, and the pleasure of watching Cary Grant stay cool while the world goes mad around him.

4.25pm | BBC Two | Vertigo (1958)

Hitchcock’s Vertigo is cinema as dream — a slow, spiralling descent into obsession and illusion that feels both hypnotic and deeply human. The film’s rhythm is deliberate, almost narcotic, drawing you into its web of longing and deceit until reality itself begins to shimmer and distort.

James Stewart gives one of his most unsettling performances: a man undone by desire, haunted by what he cannot possess, and trapped in the vertigo of his own imagination. Kim Novak, ethereal and enigmatic, becomes both muse and ghost — the embodiment of Hitchcock’s fascination with the fragile boundary between love and control.

Every frame is composed like a fevered memory: the San Francisco skyline drenched in colour, the spiralling staircase, Bernard Herrmann’s aching score that seems to echo from the subconscious. It’s a film about the impossibility of truly knowing another person — and the danger of trying to remake them in your own image.

Now hailed as Hitchcock’s masterpiece, Vertigo remains a haunting study of identity and obsession, a work of extraordinary visual beauty and emotional depth that lingers long after the credits fade.

6.20pm | Sky Arts | Ian Fleming and the Curse of Bond

A fascinating examination of Ian Fleming’s life and the extraordinary legacy of James Bond. It explores how the world’s most famous spy transformed both his creator’s reputation and popular culture itself.

6.45pm | Channel 4 | Mrs Harris Goes to Paris (2022)

Lesley Manville brings such warmth and quiet sparkle to Mrs Harris that the whole film seems to glow around her. There’s a gentleness to the storytelling — a belief that kindness still matters, that optimism isn’t naïve but necessary, and that sometimes the smallest acts of courage can change the shape of a life.

The film moves with an easy, unhurried charm. Paris is rendered not as a postcard fantasy but as a place where dreams feel just within reach, provided you’re stubborn enough to keep walking toward them. Manville’s performance anchors it all: funny, tender, and full of that unmistakable dignity she gives even the most modest characters.

It’s the sort of film that lifts your mood almost without you noticing. A celebration of decency, determination and the quiet thrill of following your heart — and truly, it’s impossible to watch without smiling.

8.00pm | Channel 5 | Alexander Armstrong Across America (3/4)

Alexander travels from the Hoover Dam through the bright lights of Las Vegas and into the dramatic landscapes of Utah. An engaging blend of travel, history and gentle humour.

9.05pm | Talking Pictures TV | Our Man in Havana (1959)

Graham Greene’s Cold War caper still feels wonderfully fresh — a satire that tiptoes between comedy and danger with the lightest of feet. Alec Guinness is in glorious form here, playing the mild‑mannered vacuum‑cleaner salesman who finds himself swept into the world of espionage almost by accident. His performance has that perfect Guinness blend: dry wit, gentle bewilderment, and a twinkle that suggests he’s enjoying the absurdity as much as we are.

The film’s great joke — that an entire intelligence operation can be built on sketches of imaginary weapons that are, in fact, parts of a vacuum cleaner — lands even harder today. Greene understood how bureaucracy, paranoia and political theatre could inflate nonsense into national security. The script dances along that razor’s edge, exposing the ridiculousness of spycraft without ever losing its grip on the human stakes.

Shot in pre‑revolutionary Havana, the film has an atmosphere all its own: humid, lively, slightly frayed at the edges. The city becomes a character in the story, a place where glamour and decay sit side by side, perfectly suited to Greene’s worldview.

It remains one of the sharpest, funniest Cold War satires — a tale where espionage becomes gloriously absurd, and Alec Guinness proves once again that nobody does deadpan chaos quite like him.

10.35pm | PBS America | Mandate for Murder: Britain’s Struggle in Palestine

A compelling historical documentary exploring Britain’s increasingly impossible position during the final years of the Palestine Mandate, and the decisions that helped shape the modern Middle East.

11.15pm | Channel 4 | Legion (2010)

Legion is one of those films that dives head‑first into biblically‑charged sci‑fi horror — angels as warriors, prophecy as battleground, and humanity caught in the crossfire. It takes the Book of Revelation, shakes it hard, and lets the pieces fall across a dusty desert diner where a small group of strangers suddenly find themselves defending the future of the world.

The setup is gloriously pulpy: God has lost faith in humanity, the angels have turned violent, and the only one willing to defy divine orders is Michael, played with steely conviction by Paul Bettany. He arrives armed, wounded, and determined, a fallen protector who believes humanity deserves one last chance. The film treats scripture like speculative fiction — ancient myth colliding with modern fear, celestial beings rendered as terrifying, body‑warping creatures that feel closer to horror than hymn.

The diner siege gives the story its shape. Ordinary people — a cook, a waitress, a drifter, a grieving father — suddenly become the final line of defence. The isolation of the setting amplifies the tension: heat shimmering off the tarmac, neon flickering, the sense that the world outside has already begun to unravel. When the attacks come, they’re loud, chaotic and unapologetically over the top, the kind of supernatural action that leans into spectacle rather than subtlety.

It’s not a quiet film, and it’s not trying to be. Legion is a wild, violent, end‑times thriller that mixes biblical mythology with sci‑fi energy and horror imagery. If you enjoy stories where angels descend not with harps but with teeth and fury, where prophecy becomes a battlefield, and where humanity’s survival hangs by a thread in the middle of nowhere, this one delivers exactly that

Sunday 12 July

2.05pm | BBC Two | Sweet Charity (1969)

Bob Fosse’s Sweet Charity is one of those films that seems to dance even when nothing is moving. His choreography — sharp, angular, slyly seductive — remains some of the most electrifying ever put on screen. You can feel the pulse of Broadway in every frame, yet the film has a cinematic looseness that lets the movement breathe. Fosse’s camera doesn’t just record dance; it participates, gliding, cutting, and framing in ways that make the choreography feel alive.

At the centre of it all is Shirley MacLaine, whose performance deserves far more recognition than it usually gets. She brings a warmth that softens the film’s harder edges, a humour that keeps Charity’s optimism from seeming foolish, and a vulnerability that makes her heartbreak land with real force. MacLaine plays Charity as a woman who keeps choosing hope even when the world gives her every reason not to — and that stubborn optimism becomes the film’s emotional engine.

The set‑pieces are dazzling: “Big Spender” with its jagged, confrontational staging; the psychedelic whirl of the Pompeii Club; the bittersweet tenderness of “If My Friends Could See Me Now.” Each sequence feels like Fosse testing the limits of what a musical number can be — theatrical, cinematic, ironic, and sincere all at once.

More than half a century later, Sweet Charity still shimmers. It’s bold, stylish, and unexpectedly moving, a musical that understands both the glitter and the grit of chasing happiness. And MacLaine, radiant and resilient, gives a performance that lingers long after the final fade.

4.25pm | BBC Two | Pride & Prejudice (2005)

Joe Wright’s adaptation of Austen’s classic feels wonderfully alive — not a museum piece, but a story with breath, movement and emotional immediacy. From the first shot, there’s a freshness to the filmmaking: the camera glides through bustling households, muddy fields and candlelit rooms, giving the world a lived‑in texture that suits Austen’s sharp social observations.

Keira Knightley brings a bright, quick intelligence to Elizabeth Bennet. Her performance has a modern spark without ever breaking the period spell — she’s witty, impulsive, and capable of sudden flashes of vulnerability that make her emotional journey feel utterly human. Matthew Macfadyen’s Darcy, meanwhile, is a study in quiet intensity. His reserve isn’t coldness but awkwardness, and when it finally cracks, the effect is unexpectedly moving.

The supporting cast enriches the world rather than crowding it: Brenda Blethyn’s flustered Mrs Bennet, Donald Sutherland’s gentle melancholy as Mr Bennet, and Judi Dench’s magnificently imperious Lady Catherine. Dario Marianelli’s score, built around those insistent piano motifs, gives the film a heartbeat — romantic, restless, and tinged with longing.

Elegant, warm and beautifully crafted, Wright’s Pride & Prejudice captures both the wit and the aching romance of Austen’s novel. It remains one of the most emotionally resonant and visually graceful versions of literature’s most celebrated love story.

6.50pm | ITV1 | Grease (1978)

Nearly fifty years on, Grease still fizzes with the kind of energy most modern musicals would kill for. It’s bright, cheeky, and utterly irresistible — a film that understands the joy of pure pop fantasy and delivers it with unwavering confidence.

The songs remain the engine of its appeal. “Summer Nights,” “Greased Lightnin’,” “You’re the One That I Want” — they haven’t aged a day. They’re still infectious, still impossible not to hum along to, still capable of lifting the mood of an entire room.

John Travolta and Olivia Newton‑John are endlessly charming, their performances pitched perfectly between sincerity and playful exaggeration. Travolta’s swagger and Newton‑John’s sweetness create a chemistry that carries the film through every twist of its candy‑coloured plot.

The whole thing moves with a kind of giddy momentum: slick choreography, bold colours, and that unmistakable sense of fun that defined late‑70s Hollywood musicals. It’s nostalgic without being dusty, exuberant without tipping into chaos, and warm‑hearted enough to make even its silliest moments feel affectionate.

9.00pm | BBC Two | The Tech Billionaire Takeover

A timely investigation into the extraordinary influence of today’s technology billionaires and the growing impact they have on politics, business and society.

9.00pm | BBC Three | Elvis (2022)

Baz Luhrmann’s dazzling biography is as flamboyant as its subject, with Austin Butler delivering an outstanding performance as the King of Rock and Roll.

10.00pm | BBC Two | Oppenheimer (2023)

Christopher Nolan’s Oscar‑winning epic remains astonishing in its balance of scale and intimacy — a film that moves between vast historical forces and the private, conflicted mind of J. Robert Oppenheimer. Cillian Murphy’s performance anchors everything: precise, haunted, and quietly devastating, capturing a man who can envision the future yet cannot escape the consequences of bringing it into being. The film’s structure — fractured, looping, almost musical — mirrors the moral complexity at its core, shifting between the feverish race to build the bomb and the political reckoning that followed. Nolan treats the creation of the atomic bomb not as a triumph of genius but as a moment of irreversible human transformation, and the film’s final act makes that weight unmistakable. A towering achievement: intellectually fierce, visually overwhelming and morally unflinching.

12.05am | Channel 4 | Beau Is Afraid (2023)

Ari Aster’s sprawling, surreal odyssey is a wild mix of dark comedy, psychological horror and anxious fever dream, following Joaquin Phoenix through a world that seems determined to punish him at every turn. It’s funny, disturbing and often exhausting — a three‑hour plunge into paranoia and maternal dread that shifts tone and genre without warning. Bold, strange and defiantly uncompromising, it’s one of the most adventurous studio films of recent years, though its intensity and eccentricity mean it certainly won’t be for everyone.

Monday 13 July

7.05pm | BBC Three | Spider-Man (2002)

Sam Raimi’s hugely influential superhero adventure still crackles with energy, establishing the template that modern comic‑book films would follow for decades. Tobey Maguire brings an endearing awkwardness and sincerity to Peter Parker, making his transformation into Spider‑Man feel genuinely emotional. Willem Dafoe’s Green Goblin remains one of Marvel’s most memorable villains — theatrical, menacing and psychologically sharp. A landmark in the genre that still holds up beautifully.

9.00pm | BBC Two | Evolution

A major new documentary series exploring the science of evolution and humanity’s place in the natural world. Beautifully filmed and intellectually ambitious, the complete series is also available on iPlayer.

9.00pm | BBC Three | Spider-Man 2 (2004)

Often hailed as one of the greatest superhero films ever made, Spider‑Man 2 deepens everything that made Raimi’s first instalment so beloved. Tobey Maguire’s Peter Parker faces a crisis of confidence that gives the film real emotional weight, while Alfred Molina’s Doctor Octopus is magnificent — tragic, intimidating and richly human. The action sequences remain spectacular, but it’s the character work and moral complexity that make this sequel endure.

9.00pm | BBC Four | Andy Warhol’s America

An engaging portrait of the artist who transformed modern art while capturing the contradictions of post-war America with extraordinary wit and originality.

10.30pm | BBC Four | American Visions: The Age of Anxiety

Continuing the story of American art through the Vietnam era, this episode examines how artists responded to conflict, political upheaval and profound social change.

Tuesday 14 July

8.00pm | BBC Four | Penelope Keith Night

BBC Four celebrates one of Britain’s most treasured comic actors with an evening of programmes showcasing a career that has brought pleasure to audiences for more than five decades. A welcome tribute to an actress whose impeccable timing and effortless charm made her a television favourite.

10.40pm | BBC One | Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)

Tom Holland’s first solo outing as Peter Parker has a buoyant, youthful energy that instantly sets it apart. The film leans into the awkwardness, enthusiasm and uncertainty of being a teenage superhero, giving the character a freshness that feels true to the comics without repeating earlier screen versions. Holland plays Peter as a kid desperate to prove himself, tripping over his own eagerness, and that sincerity becomes the film’s heartbeat.

The Marvel spectacle is there — slick action, sharp humour, a lively pace — but it’s grounded by the film’s smaller scale. Instead of world‑ending stakes, Peter is navigating school, friendships, crushes and the desire to impress Tony Stark. That balance keeps the story human even when the set‑pieces get big.

Michael Keaton’s Vulture is one of the franchise’s most believable and sympathetic villains. He’s not a cosmic tyrant or mad scientist; he’s a working‑class man pushed into criminality by circumstance and resentment. Keaton plays him with a quiet, simmering intensity, making him both threatening and understandable. His scenes with Holland have real tension because the conflict feels personal rather than abstract.

Bright, funny and character‑driven, Homecoming is a confident reset for Spider‑Man — a film that remembers the hero is at his best when he’s juggling homework, heartbreak and high‑flying danger all at once.

10.55pm | Film4 | Misericordia (2024)

A dark, quietly gripping French drama, Misericordia builds its tension with patience rather than noise. It’s the kind of European cinema that trusts atmosphere, silence and moral ambiguity to do the heavy lifting. The result is a film that feels unsettling in a slow, deliberate way — not through shocks, but through the steady tightening of its emotional screws.

The story unfolds in a rural community where old wounds and buried secrets begin to surface. The filmmaking is restrained, almost austere, yet beautifully composed: muted colours, long takes, and a sense of stillness that makes every small gesture feel significant. That visual calm becomes a counterpoint to the moral turbulence beneath the surface.

Performances are subtle and lived‑in, with characters who rarely say exactly what they mean. The tension comes from what’s left unsaid — glances, pauses, the weight of shared history. As the film progresses, the moral uncertainty deepens: guilt, forgiveness, and responsibility blur into one another, leaving the viewer to navigate the same fog as the characters.

It’s intelligent, atmospheric and quietly haunting. Misericordia rewards patient viewing, offering a slow‑burn drama where the real drama lies not in what happens, but in what it means.

11.00pm | Sky Documentaries | Cobain: Montage of Heck (2015)

Brett Morgen’s acclaimed documentary remains the most intimate portrait of Nirvana’s Kurt Cobain. Drawing on home movies, artwork, journals and previously unseen archive footage, it paints a deeply human picture of a remarkable but troubled artist.

11.10pm | BBC One | Rush (2013)

Ron Howard’s Rush isn’t just a motor‑racing film — it’s a character study wrapped in adrenaline, a story about two men who push themselves so close to the edge that the line between triumph and self‑destruction becomes almost invisible. The James Hunt–Niki Lauda rivalry is presented not as a simple clash of personalities but as a kind of elemental duel: instinct versus calculation, swagger versus discipline, chaos versus control.

The racing sequences are exhilarating, shot with a visceral immediacy that makes the cockpit feel claustrophobic and the track terrifyingly alive. But the film’s real power lies in the contrast between its two leads. Chris Hemsworth’s Hunt is all charm and recklessness — a man who seems to burn brighter the closer he gets to danger. Daniel Brühl’s Lauda, meanwhile, is meticulous, introverted, and fiercely intelligent, a driver who treats every lap as a problem to be solved. Their rivalry becomes a strange form of respect, each man recognising in the other something he lacks, something he fears, something he needs.

Howard’s direction gives the story a glossy, almost operatic sheen, yet the emotional beats land with surprising weight. Lauda’s near‑fatal crash and agonising recovery are handled with restraint, allowing the horror of the injuries — and the sheer will required to return — to speak for themselves. The film understands that greatness often comes at a price, and it doesn’t shy away from showing how brutally that price is paid.

Beautifully photographed, superbly acted and far richer than its high‑octane surface suggests, Rush is a gripping exploration of ambition, rivalry and the dangerous seduction of being the best — whatever the cost.

Wednesday 15 July

7.05pm | BBC Three | The Amazing Spider-Man (2012)

Andrew Garfield brings warmth, humour and vulnerability to a fresh interpretation of Peter Parker. Overshadowed at the time by other superhero films, it has grown considerably in reputation.

7.55pm | PBS America | Silent War: The Shadow of Atomic Bombs

A sobering documentary examining the nuclear age and the political, military and human consequences of atomic weapons. An important reminder that the legacy of Hiroshima and Nagasaki continues to shape international affairs.

8.00pm | Sky Arts | D.H. Lawrence: Sex, Exile and Greatness

A thoughtful portrait of one of England’s most controversial literary figures, exploring the experiences that shaped his life and inspired works that challenged social conventions.

8.35pm | Talking Pictures TV | The Man in the White Suit (1951)

One of Ealing Studios’ sharpest comedies, The Man in the White Suit still feels startlingly relevant — a satire wrapped in whimsy, powered by Alec Guinness at his most quietly brilliant. If Sunday’s screening slipped by, this second chance is well worth taking.

Guinness plays Sidney Stratton, a mild‑mannered chemist whose invention — a fabric that never wears out and never gets dirty — should be a triumph of human ingenuity. Instead, it becomes a threat to the entire economic order. The film’s genius lies in how lightly it handles such heavy ideas: progress, fear, vested interests, and the way institutions react when confronted with change that might actually benefit ordinary people.

The comedy is gentle but pointed. Factory owners panic at the thought of profits evaporating; unions fear unemployment; politicians fret about upheaval. Everyone, in their own way, becomes a guardian of the status quo. Stratton, glowing in his luminous white suit, becomes a kind of accidental prophet — a man whose idealism is too pure for the world he’s trying to improve.

Ealing’s trademark blend of charm and bite is on full display. The film moves briskly, the dialogue sparkles, and Guinness anchors it with that wonderful mix of innocence and determination. More than seventy years on, its observations about innovation and resistance to change feel uncannily modern.

9.10pm | BBC Three | The Amazing Spider-Man 2 (2014)

Visually bold and emotionally charged, The Amazing Spider-Man 2 is a film that swings for the fences — sometimes too enthusiastically, but often with real heart. Its greatest strength lies in Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone, whose chemistry gives the story an emotional core that keeps it grounded even when the plot threatens to overload itself with villains, mysteries and franchise‑building threads.

Garfield’s Peter Parker is at his most open and vulnerable here, torn between responsibility and desire, fear and hope. Stone’s Gwen Stacy remains one of the most compelling love interests in any superhero film — smart, capable, and fully realised, never just a narrative accessory. Their scenes together have a warmth and sincerity that elevate the entire film.

Visually, it’s ambitious. The neon‑lit action sequences, especially the battles with Electro, have a kinetic, almost musical rhythm. The film embraces colour, movement and spectacle, leaning into a heightened comic‑book aesthetic that sets it apart from other Spider‑Man incarnations.

Yes, it tries to do too much — juggling multiple villains, backstory threads and future‑setup ambitions — but when it focuses on Peter and Gwen, it becomes something genuinely affecting.

A flawed but striking entry in the Spider‑Man canon, held together by two performances that give it real emotional weight.

Thursday 16 July

9.00pm | Channel 5 | The Odyssey with Dan Snow

Dan Snow combines archaeology, history and mythology to follow the journey described in Homer’s epic poem. An accessible and entertaining exploration of one of the foundation stones of Western literature.

9.00pm | BBC One | Who Do You Think You Are? – Toby Jones

The acclaimed actor explores his family history, uncovering stories of resilience, hardship and unexpected discoveries. As ever, genealogy provides a fascinating window into Britain’s social history.

9.00pm | BBC Four | Kim Novak’s Vertigo

A fascinating documentary celebrating Kim Novak’s unforgettable performance in Alfred Hitchcock’s masterpiece and exploring the film’s extraordinary legacy.

9.00pm | Sky News | Iran School Bombing: The Search for Truth

A serious investigation into one of Iran’s most shocking recent tragedies, examining the evidence, the aftermath and the continuing search for accountability.

10.15pm | BBC Four | Vertigo (1958)

Following the documentary, Hitchcock’s masterpiece returns to the screen.

Vertigo feels hypnotic — a film that doesn’t simply tell a story but pulls you into a psychological undertow. Hitchcock’s masterpiece is a slow, spiralling study of obsession, memory and the treacherous illusions we build for ourselves. It moves with a dreamlike cadence: deliberate, unsettling, and strangely beautiful.

James Stewart gives one of his most complex performances, a man drifting between desire and delusion, unable to trust his own perceptions. Kim Novak, luminous and enigmatic, becomes both muse and mirage — the embodiment of Hitchcock’s fascination with identity as something fragile, malleable, and dangerously idealised. Their relationship is less romance than haunting, a dance between longing and control that grows more disturbing the deeper the film descends.

Visually, it’s astonishing. The colour palette, the famous dolly‑zoom, the spiralling imagery, Bernard Herrmann’s aching score — everything works together to create a sense of emotional vertigo, as if the film itself is tilting beneath your feet. San Francisco becomes a city of ghosts and echoes, a place where past and present blur and memory becomes a trap.

More than sixty years on, Vertigo remains one of cinema’s greatest achievements: hypnotic, unsettling, and endlessly rewatchable, a film that reveals something new every time you let it pull you under.

10.40pm | BBC One | Spider-Man: Far From Home (2019)

Tom Holland’s second solo outing as Peter Parker has an easy, breezy confidence — a film that understands the appeal of Spider‑Man as both wide‑eyed teenager and reluctant hero. Taking him out of New York proves inspired: the European setting gives the story a fresh rhythm, letting the film play with new landscapes, new dangers and a sense of dislocation that mirrors Peter’s own uncertainty after the events of Endgame.

Holland is terrific here, balancing humour, vulnerability and that slightly overwhelmed charm that makes his Spider‑Man so engaging. The film leans into the awkwardness of adolescence just as much as the spectacle of superhero action, and that blend keeps it emotionally grounded even when the plot becomes gloriously extravagant.

Jake Gyllenhaal’s Mysterio adds a fascinating twist — a character who shifts between mentor, illusionist and threat, embodying the film’s central theme: nothing is quite what it seems. The action sequences are inventive, especially the reality‑bending illusions that feel closer to psychological mazes than traditional fights.

It’s colourful, funny and surprisingly heartfelt, a post‑Endgame adventure that lets Peter Parker grow up a little without losing the youthful energy that defines him. A lively, entertaining chapter in the Spider‑Man story.

Friday 17 July

4.40pm | Film4 | Tolkien (2019)

Nicholas Hoult gives an understated performance as the young J.R.R. Tolkien in an intelligent and moving portrait of the friendships, love and wartime experiences that inspired one of the twentieth century’s greatest literary imaginations.

7.00pm | BBC Two | First Night of the Proms

The 2026 Proms open with a celebration of American music, including Copland’s Fanfare for the Common Man and Gershwin’s An American in Paris. South Korean pianist Yunchan Lim performs Ravel’s Piano Concerto before the evening concludes with the world premiere of a new work by French-British composer Josephine Stevenson.

7.20pm | BBC Three | Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023)

A breathtaking animation that pushes the boundaries of superhero storytelling. Dazzlingly inventive, emotionally rich and visually extraordinary, it stands among the finest animated films ever made.

7.45pm | Sky Documentaries | The Bee Gees: How Can You Mend a Broken Heart (2020)

A warm, insightful documentary charting the extraordinary rise, reinvention and enduring legacy of the Bee Gees. Rich in archive footage and wonderful music, it’s essential viewing for pop fans.

9.00pm | ITV1 | The Twisted Tale of Amanda Knox (1/8)

A new documentary series revisiting one of the most controversial criminal investigations of the twenty-first century, examining the evidence, media frenzy and legal battles from fresh perspectives.

10.00pm | ITV1 | The Twisted Tale of Amanda Knox (2/8)

The story continues immediately, exploring the extraordinary twists and turns that kept the case in the headlines for years.

11.05pm | BBC Two | Insomnia (2002)

Christopher Nolan’s Insomnia is one of his most quietly unsettling films — a psychological thriller that trades spectacle for atmosphere, letting dread accumulate in the endless daylight of an Alaskan summer. The sun never sets, shadows never arrive, and that perpetual brightness becomes a kind of torment, blurring judgement, eroding certainty and pushing its characters toward dangerous moral ground.

Al Pacino is superb as Will Dormer, a detective already frayed at the edges before he even arrives in Nightmute. The insomnia isn’t just a physical affliction; it becomes a metaphor for guilt, fear and the slow collapse of self‑control. Pacino plays him with weary intensity — a man who can’t sleep, can’t think clearly, and can’t outrun the mistakes he’s made.

Robin Williams delivers one of the most chilling performances of his career. He’s quiet, deliberate, almost gentle — and that restraint makes him far more disturbing than any flamboyant villain. His scenes with Pacino have a cat‑and‑mouse tension built not on action but on psychology: two men circling each other, each seeing something of himself reflected in the other, each trying to manipulate the shifting moral fog.

Nolan’s direction is controlled and atmospheric. The landscape feels vast yet claustrophobic, the light oppressive, the air thick with unease. It’s a thriller about perception, guilt and the way truth becomes slippery when exhaustion takes hold.

Moody, intelligent and quietly gripping, Insomnia remains one of Nolan’s most underrated achievements — a study of conscience and corruption set beneath a sky that refuses to go dark.

Streaming

The streaming services continue to offer an impressive mix of prestige drama, documentaries, independent cinema and films worth catching before they disappear. This week’s highlights range from Sherlock Holmes’ irrepressible younger sister and a gripping crime thriller to an acclaimed documentary on Spanish bullfighting. There’s also a timely reminder to check the “leaving soon” lists, with several outstanding films making their final appearances.

Available Now

Enola Holmes 3 (Netflix)

Millie Bobby Brown returns as Enola Holmes for another witty mystery packed with adventure, humour and Victorian intrigue. With its engaging performances and playful energy, the series continues to prove that Sherlock’s younger sister is more than capable of carrying her own adventures.

Red Right Hand (NOW Cinema)

Orlando Bloom stars in this hard-edged Southern crime thriller about a former enforcer drawn back into violence. Gritty, atmospheric and packed with tense confrontations, it’s an entertaining addition to NOW’s growing collection of action films.

Afternoons of Solitude (MUBI)

One of the year’s most acclaimed documentaries, this thoughtful and visually stunning study of bullfighting examines ritual, performance and mortality through the experiences of one of Spain’s leading matadors. Whether admired or criticised, it offers fascinating insight into a deeply contested tradition.

From Saturday 11 July

Deadly Influence: The Social Media Murders (Discovery+)

This unsettling true crime series explores cases where social media played a central role in manipulation, obsession and ultimately murder. Disturbing, timely and thought-provoking, it examines how online lives can have devastating real-world consequences.

From Wednesday 15 July

Lucky (Apple TV+ – first two episodes)

A stylish crime thriller in which a woman attempting to escape her past discovers it is unwilling to let her go. Strong performances and an intriguing premise suggest another quality drama for Apple TV+.

Ride or Die (Prime Video – all eight episodes)

Arriving as a complete box set, this fast-paced action series mixes crime, friendship and high-stakes adventure. Perfect for viewers looking for an addictive weekend binge.

Leaving Soon

Better Man (Prime Video – until Sunday 12 July)

The imaginative Robbie Williams biopic is unlike any conventional musical film, using bold visual storytelling to explore fame, success and self-doubt. One of the most inventive British films of recent years.

The Lavender Hill Mob (Channel 4 Streaming – until Monday 13 July)

Alec Guinness stars in one of Ealing Studios’ greatest comedies. Witty, elegant and endlessly entertaining, it remains one of the finest British films ever made.

BlacKkKlansman (BBC iPlayer – until Tuesday 14 July)

Spike Lee’s Oscar-winning drama combines humour, suspense and righteous anger in the remarkable true story of a Black police officer who infiltrated the Ku Klux Klan. Powerful, provocative and unforgettable.

Radio

Radio offers a thoughtful selection this week, ranging from philosophy and popular music to history and extraordinary personal testimony. Particularly moving is the BBC World Service’s account of Holocaust survivor Harry Haft, while Radio 4 marks the fiftieth anniversary of one of the most influential books ever written on animal welfare.

Saturday 11 July

Archive on 4: 50 Years of Peter Singer’s Animal Liberation (BBC Radio 4)

Half a century after Peter Singer’s groundbreaking book transformed attitudes towards animal welfare, this edition of Archive on 4 examines its enduring influence on ethics, politics and the modern animal rights movement.

Sunday 12 July

6.00pm | BBC Radio 2 | 30 Years of Girl Power

Three decades after the Spice Girls burst onto the music scene, Radio 2 celebrates the phenomenon that reshaped British pop culture. Packed with memorable music and archive material, it’s a nostalgic look back at one of the defining musical movements of the 1990s.

Monday 13 July

9.45pm | BBC Radio 3 | The Essay: The Dawn of Music

An absorbing exploration of how music first emerged in human society, examining archaeology, anthropology and the evolutionary origins of one of humanity’s defining achievements.

Friday 17 July

1.30pm | BBC World Service | Heart and Soul

The extraordinary story of Harry Haft, the Polish Jew forced to fight in more than seventy brutal contests for survival inside Nazi concentration camps. Later adapted into the 2021 film The Survivor, this moving documentary explores not only his remarkable endurance but the psychological scars that remained throughout his life. Powerful, haunting and deeply affecting listening.

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Film review: Disclosure Day

Introduction

I’ve never really got the whole ‘If it were proven beyond all doubt that we Earthlings were not the top of the food chain in God’s universe, then organised religion would collapse overnight’ argument.

Why?

Christianity survived proof that the Earth was not the centre of the universe with the other planets revolving around it, though admittedly, it took a while, and the likes of Galileo got a bit of a hard time about it.

It also survived Evolution, with a few die-hards persisting with outright denial to this day, but the vast majority managing to incorporate Darwinian Natural Selection into God’s Great Plan.

I can see no good reason why they shouldn’t be able to accept extra-terrestrial life-forms as fellow members of God’s creative handiwork.

And Christians aren’t the only game in town when it comes to religion. Buddhists and Daoists would take such a development in their stride, as they do most everything. Indeed, when high-ranking Tibetan Llamas started arriving in the West in the fifties and sixties, many of them still thought the world was flat. They took the news that they’d been misinformed with little more than a rueful shrug.

Hindus have so many looking strange beings in their pantheon of Gods that I don’t think a few more would phase them unduly either.

I’m not sure where Islam stands on the issue, but if we were subjected to a hostile invasion involving vastly superior technology, I’d definitely, on current form, give the Shia a key role in marshalling our defence.

Of course, many people aren’t religious at all. But I have a more optimistic view of human nature, of human beings of all religions and none than the Guardian reviewer of this film in that I think that, if were to have a real Disclosure Day and be presented with verifiable true footage of spindly, harmless looking traditional ‘Grey’ type alien visitors being subjected to horrific experiments by a shadowy government (American, inevitably) backed corporate entity we would be righteously appalled.

Plot

I say all this because the ‘This film will challenge everything you think you know about God and our place in the universe’ angle has been one of the main selling points of the movie.

Actually, this was only a marginal, though important and interesting aspect of the film. We have some religious symbolism, a blink and you’ll miss it appearance by Jesus (and, to be honest, I did miss this, only knowing about it through Mark Kermode’s review on You Tube), but is largely explored through the character of Jane (Eve Hewson), a one-time Novice-Nun, whose mind is quickly put at rest as regards to what all these Alien goings-on she’s stumbled into mean for her Faith by a single quote from Genesis delivered by her kindly former Nun-mentor Sister Maura (Elizabeth Marvel).

Jane is the girlfriend of Dr Daniel Kellner (Josh O’ Connor). Daniel is a former employee of this shadowy corporate-government organisation, Wardex (perhaps a stand-in for Elon Musk’s Space X), after absconding with a huge cache of memory sticks upon which he has downloaded almost eighty years’ worth of absolute proof of Alien visitations, dating back to the notorious Roswell incident of 1947. He intends to use this cache to disclose this information simultaneously to the whole world. Wardex, led by the villainous Noah Scanlon (Colin Firth, getting to be the baddie for a change).

Meanwhile, beautiful but restless Kansas City TV weathergirl Margaret Fairchild (Emily Blunt, the real star of the show), who shares her life with bumbling, amiable and soon uncomprehending boyfriend Jackson (Wyatt Russell, channelling Woody Harleston), begins to have strange experiences after a Disney-esque Red Cardinal bird (all of the animals in the film, which are actually Aliens taking on a form that is palatable to us humans, are Disney-esque, I think deliberately so) flies into their kitchen while she is expressing her desire to relocate for what is clearly the umpteenth time.

These experiences include being able to converse fluently in foreign languages she’s never learned, without knowing she’s doing it, the ability to read the minds of others, or to appear to them as long-lost loved ones.

Most of all, she is an empath, and ‘Empathy is a Superpower’ is the central, positive message of the film.

Soon, Margaret and Daniel are brought together by an equally shadowy, but benevolent group of ex Wardex employees, led by Hugo (Coleman Domingo), who are determined to help Daniel to finally get the Truth out there.

It becomes clear that this coming together and Margaret is no accident, that it has long been predestined by Close Encounters they’d had separately in their childhood, the memory of which they had suppressed.

They are to be the joint vehicles through which the existence of the Aliens will finally be revealed to the world.

The movie soon becomes a traditional chase/quest movie, taking place against a backdrop of a world on the brink of World War 3 over tensions on the Korean peninsula (due to the actions of the dastardly DPRK of Hollywood imagination).

There is one particularly thrilling chase scene involving a train in a scene that Spielberg has acknowledged as a conscious nod to Hitchcock’s North by Northwest.

It’s a Big Hollywood Steven Spielberg film, so it’s big in every way, impeccably directed, great cinematography, a big score by John Williams, plenty of thrills and spills, human interest and humour, all performed by a great ensemble cast.

Conclusion

I won’t give the ending away, though the title gives a pretty big clue as to who comes out on top in the battle between the Truthers and the anti-truthers. All I’ll say is that I found the climactic last twenty minutes or so to be both thrilling and moving.

There are criticisms to be made, for instance, the Alien device utilised by Margaret, Daniel and Co. in pursuit of their quest is something of a McGuffin. But I enjoyed the film too much to want to dwell on such things here.

Of course, you could, as some have, dismiss the whole thing as a fairy story based on conspiracy nonsense, and maybe I’m guilty of Confirmation Bias, because I want very much for extra-terrestrial visitations to be true. That is so because I have a heart and soul and don’t work for the Guardian.

But I’m not alone. Spielberg has called his original story a summation of both his cinematic work in the Science Fiction genre and his own longstanding studies of UFO/UAP sightings and abduction accounts. He believes the film to be true ‘in essence’, so the question really as to its quality as a movie should be, ‘Did Spielberg convince us that he is indeed a believer, and did he realise his vision in such a way as to make that belief seem plausible?’

On both counts, I say a big yes. I might have somehow missed Jesus speaking fluent Aramaic, with every word, of course, understood by Margaret, but I wasn’t bored for a single one of the movies two-hundred-and-twenty minutes: What more can you ask of a wet Thursday afternoon?

A worthy addition to the great Spielberg canon. Maybe not as groundbreaking as Jaws, ET, or its spiritual predecessor Close Encounters of the Third Kind, but a fine movie nonetheless.

Postscript   

I’m aware that there is an alternative reading of this film that sees it as part of an ongoing Psyop, linked to the real-life disclosures promised by the Trump administration and the no doubt entirely benevolent ‘training’ being provided to American Evangelical ‘Pastors’ by Israel to prepare them for a potential faith-shattering series of ‘revelations.’  I don’t dismiss this reading out of hand and will certainly bear it in my mind when and if events linked to ‘The Alien Files’ unfold. But, for now, a deep dive into that particular rabbit hole could ruin a very good film.

Anthony C Green, June 2026

Directed by Steven Spielberg

Screenplay by David Koepp, from a story by Steven Spielberg

Music by John Williams

Starring

  • Emily Blunt
  • Josh O’ Connor
  • Colin Firth
  • Even Hewson
  • Wyatt Russell

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Culture Vulture 13th–19th June 2026

There are weeks when television and film seem to be engaged in the same conversation. This is one of them. Across the schedules we find stories about reinvention, reputation, political upheaval and cultural legacy. Nelson Mandela emerges from prison to become a symbol of resistance. David Bowie transforms popular culture. James VI and I is re-examined through a modern lens. The American Revolution and Brexit become stories about nations wrestling with identity. Even many of the week’s films explore individuals trying to redefine themselves in changing worlds.

The arrival of the World Cup adds a further sense of occasion. England’s clash with Croatia is likely to dominate conversation, but there is plenty here for those whose passions lie elsewhere. History, music, literature, politics, wildlife, science and cinema all receive generous treatment.

🌟 This week’s highlights are Free Nelson Mandela, The American Revolution and Children of Men, three works which examine how people respond when history forces change upon them.

Selections and reviews are from Pat Harrington and apologies for the late posting which is a result of his hospitalisation for observation for a medical condition.

Saturday 13th June

🌟 Trooping the Colour: The King’s Birthday Parade
BBC One, 10.30am

Trooping the Colour returns with all the familiar splendour: the immaculate drill, the Household Division at full strength, and that unmistakable blend of ceremony and choreography that Britain still performs better than almost anyone. Yet the pageantry now sits in a subtly altered landscape. The past year’s royal difficulties — health scares, absences, shifting public sentiment — hover at the edges of the spectacle, giving this year’s parade a slightly more fragile undertone.

And then there’s the growing visibility of Republic, whose Not My King banners have become a recurring counter‑melody at major royal events. Their presence doesn’t overwhelm the ceremony, but it does frame it differently: a reminder that national rituals are no longer received with automatic deference, and that the monarchy now marches in step with a more contested public mood.

The result is a Trooping that feels both timeless and newly complicated — the grandeur intact, the context unmistakably changed.

🌟 The Magnificent Seven (1960)
BBC Two, 3.15pm

Sturges’s classic still rides tall: a western built on pure cinematic instinct, where myth, morality and melancholy sit easily alongside gunfights and swagger. What makes it endure isn’t just the action but the chemistry — a band of drifters, outlaws and idealists trying to be better men than their circumstances allow. It’s Hollywood myth‑making at full tilt, polished to a shine yet edged with just enough regret to give it weight. A film that knows exactly why the genre mattered, and why it still does.

Cyrano
BBC Two, 5.00pm

A chance to revisit Joe Wright’s lush, musical reimagining of Rostand’s classic — a tale where wit becomes armour and love demands both courage and concealment. Peter Dinklage gives the story its emotional centre, playing Cyrano with a bruised intelligence that makes the familiar tragedy feel newly intimate. The film’s blend of stylised romance, aching self‑sacrifice and Wright’s painterly visuals turns an old favourite into something tender, modern and quietly disarming.

Shanghai Noon (2000)
5 Action, 6.55pm

Jackie Chan and Owen Wilson strike gold in this breezy East‑meets‑West buddy romp. Chan’s acrobatic brilliance and Wilson’s laid‑back drawl shouldn’t work together, yet somehow they click perfectly — a clash of styles that becomes the joke, the charm and the engine of the whole film. The action is inventive, the humour easygoing, and the western backdrop gives it all a sun‑bleached swagger. One of the most purely enjoyable buddy westerns of its era, and still a delight to revisit.

🌟 Heatwave Night
BBC Four, from 7.00pm

BBC Four devotes an evening to the long, strange summer of 1976 — the drought, the dust, the cracked earth and the half‑remembered stories that have since hardened into national folklore. It was the year Britain baked, hosepipes were banned, tempers frayed and an entire generation formed its first memories of heat as something almost mythical. These programmes sift through the facts and the fantasies, revisiting a season when the country felt both sun‑struck and slightly unhinged. A warm, nostalgic dive into a moment that still glows in the collective imagination.

Originals at the BBC
BBC Four, from 8.35pm

This archive‑rich trawl through pop history looks at the songs whose first versions were quietly eclipsed by the covers that later defined them. It’s full of fascinating reversals: Mick Jackson performing “Blame It on the Boogie” before the Jacksons turned it into a disco juggernaut; Liza Minnelli debuting “New York, New York” years before Sinatra claimed it as his own; and early, often surprising takes from David Bowie, Chaka Khan, Randy Newman, Randy Crawford, the Red Hot Chili Peppers and the Osmonds.

What emerges is a portrait of musical evolution in real time — the moment before a song becomes a standard, when it still belongs to its original voice. It’s a quietly revelatory reminder that the version we know best isn’t always the one that came first.

Harry and Meghan: Has America Had Enough?
Channel 5, 8.35pm

This timely documentary takes the temperature of the Sussexes’ standing in the United States, where the initial fascination has cooled into something more complicated. The film charts the arc from Oprah‑era sympathy to a landscape shaped by media fatigue, shifting public sentiment and the couple’s own high‑profile projects.

What emerges is a portrait of a brand in flux: admired by some for their independence, dismissed by others as overexposed, and increasingly caught in the crossfire of America’s culture‑war reflexes. The programme doesn’t pretend there’s a single narrative — instead it maps the competing ones, showing how quickly celebrity, royalty and activism can collide in the American imagination.

A brisk, revealing look at how the Sussex story plays across the Atlantic, and why the mood there may matter more than ever.

🌟 Ferrari (2023)
Sky Mix, 9.00pm

Michael Mann’s Ferrari is less a biopic than a pressure chamber — a portrait of Enzo Ferrari at the moment when ambition, obsession and personal tragedy all begin to collide. Adam Driver plays him as a man carved out of resolve and regret, running a company on the brink while navigating a private life held together by secrecy and strain.

Mann shoots the racing sequences with his trademark precision — mechanical violence, beauty and danger fused into one — but the film’s real charge comes from the emotional wreckage Ferrari can’t outrun. It’s sleek, sombre and quietly devastating, a study of a man who built an empire at a cost he could never fully control.

Ella Fitzgerald: Just One of Those Things
Sky Arts, 9.00pm

This superb profile traces Ella Fitzgerald’s rise from a troubled childhood to becoming one of the most luminous voices of the twentieth century. The film captures both the precision and the playfulness in her singing — that effortless glide across a melody, the improvisational daring, the way she could make even the most familiar standard feel newly minted.

What stands out is the contrast between the public brilliance and the private reserve: a woman who poured everything into performance yet kept much of herself hidden offstage. Through interviews, rare footage and a lovingly curated soundtrack, the documentary shows how she shaped American music while quietly navigating the pressures of race, gender and relentless touring.

Benedetta (2021)
Film4, 12.30am

Paul Verhoeven’s Benedetta is a heady collision of religion, sexuality and power — a film that treats the convent not as a sanctuary but as a crucible where desire, faith and ambition combust. Virginie Efira is mesmerising as the nun whose visions may be divine revelation, psychological rupture or calculated self‑advancement; Verhoeven keeps all possibilities alive, letting the ambiguity do the unsettling work.

The film is provocative, yes, but never cheaply so. Its real charge comes from the way it exposes the machinery of authority — how institutions police bodies, weaponise belief and fear the unruly force of female agency. It’s bold, irreverent and sharply intelligent, a late‑night watch that refuses to behave.

Nostalgia (2022)
BBC Two, 1.20am

Mario Martone’s Nostalgia is a slow, beautifully bruised meditation on what it means to return to the place that shaped you — and to discover that time has rewritten it in ways you can’t quite reconcile. Pierfrancesco Favino gives a wonderfully inward performance as a man drawn back to Naples after decades away, only to find that memory, identity and the city itself no longer align.

The film moves with a kind of haunted patience, lingering in alleyways, courtyards and half‑forgotten rituals as it explores how the past can both anchor and endanger you. It’s a drama about homecoming that understands the ache beneath the idea — the knowledge that you can revisit the streets of your youth, but you can’t return as the person who once walked them.

A thoughtful, late‑night piece: atmospheric, melancholy and quietly gripping.

Sunday 14th June

Dial M for Murder (1954)
BBC Two, 2.00pm

Hitchcock’s chamber‑piece thriller remains a masterclass in controlled tension — a film that turns a London flat into a trap, a stage and a moral maze. Ray Milland is superb as the husband whose charm curdles into calculation, plotting the “perfect” murder with the cool logic of a man who believes he’s smarter than everyone in the room. Grace Kelly, luminous and poised, becomes the pivot around which the whole scheme twists.

What makes it endure is the precision: the way Hitchcock builds suspense from timing, angles, tiny gestures, the slow tightening of circumstance. It’s elegant, claustrophobic and wickedly satisfying — a reminder that sometimes the most gripping thrillers barely need to leave the living room.

Moby Dick (1956)
Legend, 5.40pm

John Huston’s muscular adaptation of Melville’s great American novel still carries the weight and weather of a true seafaring epic. Gregory Peck sheds his usual moral steadiness to play Captain Ahab as a man consumed from the inside out — all flint, fury and fatal purpose — driving his crew across the oceans in pursuit of the white whale that has become his destiny and his doom.

The film has a rugged grandeur: storm‑lashed decks, creaking timbers, and a sense of myth gathering like fog around the Pequod. Richard Basehart’s Ishmael provides the human anchor, watching as obsession tightens its grip on ship and captain alike.

A classic tale told with salt, sweat and tragic poetry — still gripping, still immense.

🌟 Tiger Island
BBC One, 7.15pm

A beautifully filmed journey into one of the planet’s most fragile wildlife refuges, where every frame seems to shimmer with both wonder and warning. The programme follows the tigers that haunt this isolated landscape — elusive, powerful, and increasingly vulnerable — while capturing the delicate web of life that surrounds them.

What gives it real force is the sense of precarity: a habitat under pressure, a species surviving on the thinnest of margins, and the people working to protect a world that could vanish with alarming speed. It’s immersive, urgent and quietly moving — a reminder of what’s at stake when wilderness meets the modern world.

Michael Palin’s Hemingway Adventure
BBC Four, 8.15pm

Palin’s travelogue is a genial, gently obsessive pursuit of Ernest Hemingway’s shadow — following the writer’s footsteps from Key West to Cuba, from Parisian cafés to African plains. What begins as a literary pilgrimage becomes a portrait of the man behind the myth: the bravado, the tenderness, the damage, and the restless need to keep moving.

Palin brings his trademark curiosity and lightness of touch, treating Hemingway not as a monument but as a complicated human being whose life spilled across continents and genres. The result is part biography, part journey, part meditation on why certain writers refuse to fade.

A thoughtful, engaging evening with two great travellers — one on screen, one in memory.

🌟 Free Nelson Mandela
Channel 4, 9.00pm

This major documentary series opens with a stark, unflinching examination of apartheid — not as distant history, but as a system of white supremacy engineered to control every aspect of Black South African life. The episode traces the machinery of segregation, the brutality used to enforce it, and the early resistance movements that began to challenge the state’s grip.

What gives the film its power is the way it balances the political with the personal: the rise of Nelson Mandela set against the wider struggle of a people fighting for dignity, representation and the right simply to exist on equal terms. It’s rigorous, moving and necessary — a reminder of how oppression is built, and how it is eventually dismantled.

Bowie: The Man Who Changed the World
Sky Documentaries, 9.00pm

A familiar but always worthwhile study of one of modern culture’s most influential figures.

🌟 A Time to Kill (1996)
Legend, 9.00pm

Joel Schumacher’s adaptation of John Grisham’s novel remains a gripping, morally charged courtroom drama, set in a Deep South still riven by race, rage and old injustices. Matthew McConaughey plays the young lawyer drawn into a case that forces the town — and the audience — to confront the limits of justice when the law and lived experience collide.

Samuel L. Jackson brings fierce, wounded gravity to the father at the centre of the trial, while the film builds its tension not from legal theatrics but from the volatile atmosphere outside the courtroom: mobs, threats, and a community on the brink.

It’s slick, urgent and emotionally loaded — a 90s thriller that still knows how to get under the skin.

Later… with Jools Holland
BBC Two, 10.00pm

Jools returns with a line‑up that spans eras and energies: Mike D of the Beastie Boys, bringing the wry charm and hip‑hop heritage only he can; the smoky, soulful intensity of Baby Rose; and the radiant, genre‑defying presence of Beverly Glenn‑Copeland, whose late‑career renaissance feels like a gift every time he performs.

It’s one of those eclectic Jools nights where the contrasts do the work — hip‑hop royalty, a rising voice steeped in emotion, and a visionary elder statesman of experimental soul all sharing the same musical floor. A quietly special edition.

🌟 Children of Men (2006)
BBC Two, 10.45pm

Alfonso Cuarón’s dystopian masterpiece still feels frighteningly close to the bone — a world collapsing under infertility, authoritarianism and despair, rendered with such immediacy that it barely feels like science fiction at all. Clive Owen gives one of his finest performances as the weary bureaucrat dragged, almost against his will, into protecting the one fragile spark of hope left on Earth.

Cuarón’s long, fluid takes remain astonishing: chaos unfolding in real time, violence without glamour, humanity flickering in the rubble. Yet for all its grit and grime, the film carries a quiet, stubborn belief in the possibility of renewal.

A modern classic — urgent, immersive and emotionally shattering.

Boiling Point (2021)
Channel 4, Midnight

Stephen Graham is electrifying in this ferocious, real‑time restaurant drama, a single unbroken shot that traps you in the pressure cooker of a London kitchen on the brink. What begins as controlled chaos slowly unravels into something rawer and more revealing — a portrait of overwork, ego, exhaustion and the fragile humanity beneath the chef’s whites.

The camera never lets you escape, weaving through cramped spaces and frayed tempers as service spirals out of control. It’s tense, immersive and brilliantly acted, a late‑night watch that leaves your pulse racing long after the plates stop clattering.

🌟 World Cup 2026: Haiti v Scotland — BBC One, 2.00am

Scotland return to the World Cup stage for the first time in 28 years, opening their Group C campaign against Haiti — a match that feels both historic and quietly nerve‑shredding. Steve Clarke’s side arrive in good form after strong warm‑up wins, but the pressure is unmistakable: with Morocco and Brazil looming later in the group, this is the game they simply have to take something from.

Haiti, making their first World Cup appearance in over half a century, won’t make it easy. Expect a cagey start, flashes of jeopardy, and the hope that Scotland’s midfield spine — McGinn, McTominay, Christie — can impose control when it matters.

A late‑night (or very early‑morning) appointment for the Tartan Army, and a moment decades in the making.

Monday 15th June

🌟 The Power of the Dog (2021)
BBC Two, 12.05am

Jane Campion’s magnificent deconstruction of western mythology unfolds with a slow, coiled intensity — a frontier drama where the real battles are waged in silence, glances and buried wounds. Benedict Cumberbatch is extraordinary as Phil Burbank, a man whose cruelty masks a deeper, more dangerous vulnerability, while the wide Montana landscapes feel less like freedom and more like emotional terrain waiting to erupt.

Campion strips the western of swagger and replaces it with psychological precision: masculinity as performance, desire as threat, power as something that shifts in the smallest of gestures. Every frame is controlled, unsettling and quietly devastating.

A modern masterpiece — tense, elegant and lingering long after the credits fade.

Gagarine (2020)
Film4, 1.30am

A quietly luminous film that turns a crumbling Paris housing estate into a place of dreams, memory and fragile hope. Ladj Ly and Fanny Liatard blend social realism with a touch of science‑fiction poetry, following teenager Youri as he tries to save the only home he’s ever known — transforming the tower block into a kind of spacecraft built from longing and imagination.

The result is moving without sentimentality: a portrait of community under threat, of youth inventing escape routes when none are offered, and of the small acts of care that keep people afloat. It’s tender, inventive and unexpectedly cosmic

🌟 Brexit: A Very British Civil War
BBC Two, 9.00pm

The concluding part of the documentary examining Britain’s defining political conflict.

Dolly: The World’s Most Famous Sheep
Channel 4, 10.00pm

The story of the scientific breakthrough that quietly rewrote the rules of modern biology. This documentary revisits the creation of Dolly the sheep — the first mammal cloned from an adult cell — and unpacks the mix of brilliance, controversy and sheer audacity behind the experiment.

It’s a tale of lab‑coat ingenuity and global shockwaves, charting how a single sheep in a Scottish shed forced the world to rethink ethics, genetics and the boundaries of possibility. Clear, accessible and surprisingly moving, it captures the moment science stepped into a new era.

OnlyFans: Inside the Machine
BBC One, 10.55pm

A look inside one of the most influential — and divisive — platforms of the digital age, tracing how a site built on direct creator‑to‑audience connection became a lightning rod for debates about labour, autonomy, exploitation and the economics of online fame. The documentary digs into the company’s inner workings, the people who rely on it, and the wider cultural forces that turned a niche service into a global flashpoint.

It’s brisk, revealing and quietly unsettling — a portrait of a platform that reshaped the internet while raising questions society still hasn’t fully answered.

Tuesday 16th June

Letter to Brezhnev (1985)
BBC Two, 12.05am

A small film with a big heart, this Liverpool romance captures the grit and charm of 1980s Merseyside with disarming honesty. Alexandra Pigg and Peter Firth bring a lovely, tentative chemistry to a story that begins as a chance encounter and blossoms into something far more hopeful — all against the looming backdrop of Cold War politics and everyday economic struggle.

What makes it endure is its mix of humour and yearning: a city battered by circumstance but still capable of producing moments of joy, defiance and sheer romantic audacity. It’s tender, funny and quietly political — a reminder that even in bleak times, people still dream of escape, connection and something better.

Sign of the Pagan (1954)
Film4, 3.15pm

A proudly old‑fashioned slice of Hollywood spectacle, pitched somewhere between historical pageant and sword‑and‑sandals intrigue. Jack Palance cuts a striking figure as Attila the Hun — all brooding menace and coiled ambition — while Jeff Chandler’s Roman general provides the square‑jawed counterweight in a tale of empires clashing and destinies foretold.

The film has that unmistakable 1950s studio sheen: lavish sets, bold colours, and a script that treats history as a canvas for myth rather than accuracy. It’s grand, earnest and enjoyably overblown — the kind of matinee epic where the drama is big, the stakes are bigger, and subtlety is left at the city gates.

Rosa Elettrica
Sky Atlantic, 9.00pm

A stylish Italian crime thriller with a cool, modern pulse, steeped in neon shadows and moral ambiguity. The series follows a young woman pulled into the circuitry of organised crime, where loyalty is fragile, power shifts without warning, and every choice seems to spark another dangerous consequence.

What sets it apart is its atmosphere: elegant, moody and charged with a distinctly European sense of fatalism. The plotting is sharp, the performances simmer, and the cityscape becomes a character in its own right — seductive, treacherous, impossible to escape.

A sleek, confident slice of contemporary Italian noir.

🌟 The American Revolution — BBC Four, 10.00pm
The opening chapters of a major new history of the United States, told with a clarity that cuts through centuries of myth‑making. This first instalment traces the tensions, ideas and imperial missteps that pushed Britain’s colonies from grumbling dissent to outright rebellion — a story of taxes, pamphlets, protests and the slow ignition of a political identity that would reshape the world.

What stands out is the programme’s sense of scale: intimate portraits of the people who lived through the upheaval set against the vast geopolitical forces grinding into motion. It’s rigorous, vivid and refreshingly unsentimental — a strong start to a series that promises to re‑examine a revolution everyone thinks they already understand.

Science Fiction in the Atomic Age: Arthur C. Clarke and Ray Bradbury
Sky Arts, 10.50pm

A fascinating study of two giants whose imaginations helped define what modern science fiction could be. Clarke, the cool rationalist of the space age, and Bradbury, the lyrical chronicler of human longing and dread, make for a compelling contrast — one looking outward to the stars, the other inward to the soul.

The programme traces how their work emerged from the anxieties and exhilarations of the Atomic Age: technological leaps, existential threats, and a world suddenly aware of its own fragility. Through interviews, archive material and sharp critical insight, it shows how both writers shaped not just a genre but the way we think about the future itself.

A richly engaging hour for anyone who loves the crossroads where imagination meets history.

Knives Out (2019)
Film4, 11.40pm

Rian Johnson’s witty and ingenious revival of the murder mystery — Knives Out Johnson’s modern whodunnit is a gleeful reinvention of the Agatha Christie template — a country house, a dead patriarch, a squabbling family, and a detective who sees more than he lets on. What lifts it is the tone: sly, spry, and fizzing with character, from Daniel Craig’s drawling Benoit Blanc to Ana de Armas’s quietly brilliant moral centre.

The film delights in misdirection and social satire, peeling back layers of entitlement and ego while keeping the mystery satisfyingly tight. It’s clever without being smug, funny without undercutting the stakes, and packed with the kind of detail that rewards a rewatch.

A sparkling, precision‑tooled crowd‑pleaser — the murder mystery reborn with a grin.

Wednesday 17th June

The Lavender Hill Mob (1951)
Film4, 5.15pm

One of Ealing’s finest: a perfectly judged caper that pairs Alec Guinness’s mild‑mannered bank clerk with Stanley Holloway’s genial schemer in a plot to smuggle stolen gold out of the country. What begins as a modest fantasy of escape blossoms into a wonderfully daft criminal enterprise, executed with that trademark Ealing blend of wit, warmth and gentle anarchy.

Guinness is magnificent — precise, understated, and quietly hilarious — while the film’s escalating absurdity never loses sight of the human foibles beneath the farce. A small comic masterpiece, still sparkling after seven decades.

Titans of the Cold War
PBS America, 7.50pm

A pivotal chapter in the long standoff between East and West, charting how the arrivals of Nikita Khrushchev and Dwight D. Eisenhower reshaped the Cold War’s trajectory. The programme captures a moment when bluster, brinkmanship and back‑channel diplomacy all collided — Khrushchev’s volatile mix of reformist impulses and showmanship meeting Eisenhower’s steadier, military‑minded pragmatism.

It’s a study in contrasts and consequences: two leaders inheriting a world on the edge, each trying to manage nuclear anxiety, ideological rivalry and the uneasy hope that dialogue might avert catastrophe. A brisk, insightful slice of Cold War history, illuminating the personalities who steered the superpowers into a new, uncertain phase.

🌟 England v Croatia – FIFA World Cup 2026
ITV1, 8.00pm

The World Cup rolls into its first truly seismic evening as England open their campaign against Croatia — a fixture heavy with history, expectation and the familiar national cocktail of hope and dread. Gareth Southgate’s side arrive with a squad brimming with talent but carrying the weight of a country that always wants this to be the year.

Croatia, perennial tournament disruptors, remain as technically sharp and tactically stubborn as ever, even as a new generation steps out from under the long shadow of Modrić. It’s a meeting of styles as much as reputations: England’s pace and directness against Croatia’s control and patience.

A match guaranteed to dominate the national conversation — tense, tactical and impossible to ignore.

🌟 Children of Men (2006)
BBC Three, 9.00pm

A second chance this week to catch Alfonso Cuarón’s dystopian masterpiece — a film that still feels alarmingly close to the world outside the window. Set in a Britain buckling under infertility, authoritarianism and despair, it follows Clive Owen’s weary civil servant as he’s pulled into protecting the one fragile spark of hope left on Earth.

Cuarón’s long, fluid takes remain astonishing: chaos unfolding in real time, violence stripped of glamour, humanity flickering in the rubble. Yet for all its grit, the film carries a quiet belief in the possibility of renewal.

Urgent, immersive and emotionally shattering — absolutely worth a repeat viewing.

The Idea of You (2024)
BBC One, 10.40pm

Anne Hathaway brings warmth, wit and a quietly bruised honesty to this thoughtful romantic drama about a woman who stumbles into an unexpected relationship that upends the neat borders of her life. What begins as a chance encounter with a younger pop star becomes a story about desire, agency and the courage it takes to choose happiness when the world insists you shouldn’t.

The film balances fantasy with emotional truth, letting Hathaway’s performance anchor the glamour in something recognisably human — the longing to feel seen, the fear of being judged, the thrill of rediscovery.

Thailand: The Dark Side of Paradise
BBC Three, from 10.40pm

A revealing look behind Thailand’s tourist image.

They Live (1988)
Legend, 11.10pm

John Carpenter’s cult satire remains as sharp as a boot to the ribs — a gleefully subversive blend of sci‑fi, action and anti‑consumerist rage. Roddy Piper’s drifter discovers a pair of sunglasses that reveal the world as it truly is: billboards barking obedience, elites exposed as skeletal overlords, and capitalism literally wearing a human mask.

Carpenter plays it deadpan and furious, mixing B‑movie swagger with a political bite that feels even more relevant now than it did in ’88. The famous alleyway punch‑up is still absurdly glorious, but it’s the film’s bleak wit and prophetic clarity that linger.

Thursday 18th June

Ad Astra (2019)
Film4, 6.40pm

Brad Pitt gives one of his most restrained and affecting performances in this visually ravishing sci‑fi odyssey. Set in a near‑future solar system fraying at the edges, the film follows an astronaut sent on a mission to track down his long‑lost father — a legendary explorer whose obsession may now threaten humanity itself.

James Gray turns what could have been a straight adventure into something more intimate: a story about isolation, legacy and the emotional gravity we carry across vast distances. The imagery is stunning — moon‑buggy chases, Neptune’s blue haze, the quiet terror of deep space — but it’s the film’s melancholy pulse that lingers.

A thoughtful, beautifully crafted journey into the cosmos and the self.

🌟 Catch Me If You Can (2002)
TLC, 9.00pm

Steven Spielberg’s breezy true‑life tale of deception and reinvention remains one of his most purely enjoyable films. Leonardo DiCaprio is irresistible as Frank Abagnale Jr., the teenage con artist who slips through America in a blur of forged cheques, borrowed identities and audacious charm, while Tom Hanks’s dogged FBI agent gives the chase its steady, beating heart.

Spielberg keeps the tone light without ever losing sight of the loneliness beneath the bravado, turning a cat‑and‑mouse caper into a story about yearning, escape and the strange American romance of becoming someone new.

🌟 Queen James
BBC Two, 9.00pm

A fresh, incisive examination of James VI and I — a monarch whose intellect, insecurities and political instincts shaped two kingdoms at a moment of profound change. The programme digs into the culture and court politics that surrounded him: the factional manoeuvring, the ideological battles, and the delicate dance between king and favourites.

It also confronts, without sensationalism, the long‑debated question of James’s sexuality. His intensely intimate relationships with men such as Esmé Stewart, Robert Carr, and George Villiers have led many historians to argue that he was gay or bisexual — a dimension of his life that shaped both the dynamics of his court and the anxieties of those who served within it.

What emerges is a portrait of a ruler both shrewd and vulnerable, navigating union, religion, reputation and desire in a world that scrutinised every gesture. A sharp, engaging hour that reframes a familiar figure with welcome clarity and complexity.

The Accused: Beyond Reasonable Doubt
Channel 4, 10.00pm

The opening episode tackles one of the most perilous fault lines in the justice system: the fragility of eyewitness testimony. Through real cases and forensic reconstruction, it shows how memory — fallible, suggestible, and easily distorted — can send an investigation veering off course, even when delivered with absolute confidence in the witness box.

The programme lays out the dangers with clarity: misidentification, pressure from police procedure, the subtle influence of expectation, and the devastating consequences when a jury mistakes certainty for truth. It’s sober, unsettling viewing, and a reminder that the line between justice and injustice can hinge on a single, unreliable recollection.

A compelling start to a series intent on probing the system’s most uncomfortable weaknesses.

The Last Man on Earth (1964)
Talking Pictures TV, 11.15pm

Vincent Price is superb in this stark, unsettling adaptation of Richard Matheson’s I Am Legend — a film whose influence can be felt in everything from Night of the Living Dead to modern zombie cinema. Shot in eerie, depopulated Italian streets, it follows a lone survivor haunting his own ruined world, battling vampiric creatures by night and crushing loneliness by day.

Price plays it with a weary, haunted dignity, turning what could have been pulp into something strangely elegiac. The film’s low‑budget ingenuity and bleak tone give it a power that still resonates, decades later.

Friday 19th June

El Dorado (1966)
5 Action, 1.15pm

Howard Hawks reunites with John Wayne for a late‑career western that wears its age with easy charm. Wayne plays a seasoned gunfighter drawn into defending a small town alongside Robert Mitchum’s boozy sheriff and James Caan’s eager young sidekick — a trio whose chemistry gives the film its unhurried pleasure.

There’s plenty of classic Hawksian business: dry humour, camaraderie forged under pressure, and action that unfolds with relaxed assurance rather than bluster. It’s a film more interested in character than spectacle, and all the better for it.

A mellow, quietly irresistible slice of old‑school western storytelling.

Milan with Michael Portillo
9.00pm

Michael Portillo turns his eye — and his famously exuberant wardrobe — to one of Europe’s great cities, tracing Milan’s blend of industry, elegance and restless modernity. From the Duomo’s marble forest to the quiet rituals of the aperitivo hour, he explores a city where fashion, finance and centuries of artistic ambition sit comfortably side by side.

Portillo is at his best here: curious, lightly professorial, and genuinely engaged with the people who keep Milan’s cultural engine humming. The result is a portrait of a city that’s both grand and intimate, stylish yet grounded.

A graceful hour in the company of a guide who knows how to make history feel alive.

🌟 Elvis’s ’68 Comeback Special
BBC Four, 9.00pm

The King’s great reclamation of self and swagger — a televised resurrection that turned a fading Hollywood idol back into a livewire performer. Dressed in black leather, framed by a tight studio crowd and a crackling sense of danger, Elvis tears through his catalogue with a hunger that had been missing for years.

What makes the special so electrifying is its mix of intimacy and spectacle: the loose, joking sit‑down sessions where he reconnects with his roots, and the big, theatrical numbers that remind you why he became a phenomenon in the first place. It’s a portrait of an artist rediscovering his edge in real time.

Still one of television’s most iconic musical moments — and a thrill to revisit.

🌟 The Horse Whisperer (1998)
Great TV, 9.00pm

Robert Redford directs and stars in this quietly moving drama about healing, forgiveness and the slow work of finding your way back to yourself. After a devastating accident leaves both a teenage girl and her horse traumatised, her mother brings them to Redford’s Montana ranch — a place where patience, open skies and hard truths begin to do what medicine alone cannot.

Redford plays the role with understated grace, letting the film breathe in long, lyrical stretches of landscape and silence. Kristin Scott Thomas brings emotional steel as the mother trying to hold everything together, while the story unfolds with a sincerity that never tips into sentimentality.

A spacious, heartfelt film about second chances — and the courage it takes to accept them.

New Life (2023)
Film4, 11.30pm

An intelligent, tightly wound horror‑thriller that begins as a chase movie and gradually reveals something far stranger — and far more moving — beneath its surface. A woman on the run and the agent pursuing her seem locked into a familiar cat‑and‑mouse rhythm, but the film keeps shifting the ground under your feet, peeling back layers of fear, guilt and transformation.

What makes it stand out is the emotional depth threaded through the tension: moments of stillness that hint at lives derailed long before the plot catches up with them. By the time the truth emerges, the horror has become something unexpectedly humane.

Lean, surprising and quietly affecting.

The Invitation (2022)
Channel 4, 12.10am

A stylish gothic horror blending vampires, class and dark romance. A lush, slow‑burn gothic tale that uses its vampiric premise to probe something more human — desire, power and the social hierarchies that feed on both. The film wraps its blood‑dark themes in candlelit corridors, whispered secrets and a romance steeped in danger, letting the supernatural elements sharpen the class tensions rather than overshadow them.

It’s atmospheric without being overwrought, seductive without losing its bite, and smart enough to know that the scariest monsters are often the ones society quietly enables. A beautifully made slice of gothic unease.

Streaming Choice

Polar Park — Channel 4 Streaming, from Friday 19th June

Polar Park arrives on Channel 4 via Walter Presents, adapted by Gérald Hustache‑Mathieu from his own cult 2011 film Poupoupidou. Set in Mouthe, officially the coldest town in France, it follows David Rousseau (Jean‑Paul Rouve), a crime novelist who drifts into the Jura mountains in search of inspiration and instead finds a series of murders staged as famous artworks.

What begins as a quirky detour becomes a stylish, snow‑dusted mystery with a distinctly French flavour: dry humour, melancholy charm and a sense that everyone in this remote community is performing a version of themselves. Hustache‑Mathieu uses the TV format to deepen the world of the original film — expanding characters, sharpening the visual language and leaning into the Coen‑esque mix of oddity and menace that critics praised on its ARTE debut.

The cast — including Guillaume Gouix and India Hair — play it with just the right level of deadpan sincerity, and the show’s wintry aesthetic gives it a personality that stands apart from the usual crime‑drama palette. It’s atmospheric, offbeat and quietly gripping: a murder mystery that’s as interested in mood and character as it is in clues.

Train-ing It with Joe Wilkinson — Channel 4 Streaming, from Friday 19th June

Joe Wilkinson’s travelogue is exactly the sort of quietly oddball delight Channel 4 does best. What begins as a simple rail journey becomes a rambling, self‑deprecating wander through Britain’s quirks, characters and minor absurdities. Wilkinson’s humour is warm, slightly baffled and never cruel, and the show’s charm lies in how happily it embraces the unglamorous. It’s gentle, funny and unexpectedly human — a series that finds meaning in missed connections, lukewarm tea and the strange poetry of public transport.

A Spark into Flame: Hamilton and Hip Hop — Disney+, from Tuesday 16th June

This documentary digs beneath the phenomenon of Hamilton to trace how hip hop reshaped the language of musical theatre. It’s part cultural history, part creative anatomy: a look at how rhythm, rhyme and political storytelling collided to produce a show that felt both radical and inevitable. The film is at its best when it connects Broadway to the wider currents of Black artistry — showing how a form born from resistance became the engine of a global hit. Smart, pacey and full of insight, it’s a reminder that revolutions in culture often begin with a beat.

Project Hail Mary — MGM+, from Thursday 18th June

This adaptation of Andy Weir’s novel leans into the joy of problem‑solving under impossible pressure. It’s part survival story, part cosmic mystery, anchored by a central performance that captures both the terror and the wonder of waking up alone in deep space with the fate of humanity on your shoulders. The film balances hard science with real emotional pull, and its unlikely partnership at the story’s heart gives it warmth amid the equations. Smart, inventive and surprisingly moving — a sci‑fi puzzle box with soul.

🌟 Poor Cow — StudioCanal Presents

Ken Loach’s debut feature still lands with a raw, unvarnished force. Poor Cow follows Joy, a young woman navigating the margins of 1960s London, and Loach shoots her life with a documentary eye that refuses sentimentality. Carol White is extraordinary — open, wounded, hopeful in spite of everything — and the film’s mix of social realism and emotional immediacy feels as fresh now as it did on release. A tough, tender portrait of a woman trying to carve out a future in a world that keeps closing in.

🌟 Kneecap — Prime Video

Kneecap is a riot of energy — a swaggering, politically charged, deeply funny portrait of Belfast’s most anarchic hip‑hop trio. It mixes satire, social commentary and sheer chaotic charm, blurring the line between myth‑making and autobiography. What gives the film its bite is the way it treats language, identity and rebellion not as themes but as fuel: everything burns bright, loud and unapologetically local. It’s bold, inventive and brimming with attitude — a cultural firecracker that refuses to behave.

Marching Powder — Prime Video

Danny Dyer’s Marching Powder is exactly the sort of swaggering, rough‑edged crime caper he was born to front. It’s loud, cheeky and unpretentious, built around Dyer’s gift for playing men who talk themselves into trouble faster than they can fight their way out of it. The film has that early‑2000s Brit‑crime energy — fast cuts, big characters, a plot that barrels forward on attitude as much as logic. It’s messy, funny and knowingly over the top, the kind of thing you watch with a grin because everyone involved clearly knows the game they’re playing.

The Woody Allen Collection — Prime Video

A new Woody Allen collection inevitably arrives with a double pull: the films themselves — sharp, funny, formally inventive — and the long shadow cast by the man who made them. Few directors have shaped modern screen comedy as deeply as Allen; fewer come with such a complicated public legacy.

Engaging with this set means holding both truths at once. The early work still crackles with wit and neurotic energy; the later films drift between nostalgia and self‑parody. But watching them now also means acknowledging the discomfort that surrounds Allen, and recognising that admiration for craft doesn’t require silence about the controversies.

The collection becomes, in that sense, a test case for how we approach socially compromised artists who are nonetheless undeniably talented. The answer isn’t to pretend the work exists in a vacuum, nor to erase it entirely, but to watch with awareness — to let context deepen, rather than flatten, our understanding.

As cinema, these films remain influential. As cultural objects, they ask us to think about the uneasy space where art, ethics and legacy meet.

🌟 The Tasters — Available to buy and rent

The Tasters takes the chilling premise of Hitler’s real‑life poison‑tasting brigade and turns it into a tense, claustrophobic character study. The film isn’t interested in easy moral binaries; instead it sits with the unsettling truth that people can be trapped inside monstrous systems without being monsters themselves. The women at its centre live in a state of suspended terror — loyal, fearful, complicit, resistant, often all at once — and the drama lies in how they navigate that impossible space.

What gives the film its bite is the way it handles socially compromised people who nonetheless possess agency, intelligence and talent. It refuses to flatten them into symbols. Instead, it asks how we judge those whose choices were shaped by coercion, survival and the machinery of dictatorship.

As with any work rooted in morally tainted history, the challenge is how to watch it: not with blanket condemnation or blind sympathy, but with an awareness of context and a willingness to sit in discomfort. The Tasters understands that history is rarely tidy — and that the people caught inside it are even less so.

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The Devil Wears Prada 2: A Sequel Crying Out for the Old Miranda

Twenty years after leaving Runway, Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway) has built a respectable career in journalism — right up until her entire newsroom is laid off by text message during an awards gala. At the same time, Miranda Priestly (Meryl Streep) faces a crisis of her own: a sweatshop scandal involving a major advertiser gives corporate owner Irv Ravitz (Tibor Feldman) the excuse he’s been waiting for to interfere. Runway publishes what should have been a glossy, harmles puff piece  on a major fashion brand — only for that brand to be exposed days later for using sweatshop labour. Without Miranda’s consent,  Irv hires Andy as Runway’s new features editor, a move that lands like a diplomatic incident.

Miranda, once the terrifying high priestess of fashion, now finds herself hemmed in by HR briefings, “tone workshops,” and a younger staff who don’t instinctively recognise her authority. Print is shrinking, advertisers are restless, and the magazine is being pushed toward cheap digital churn. Andy tries to uphold real journalism, but her long‑form pieces barely register in a world ruled by algorithms.

Andy reunites with Emily Charlton (Emily Blunt) — now a high‑powered executive whose company’s aggressive pricing strategies symbolise the industry’s moral drift. Meanwhile, tech investors circle Runway, including the serenely confident mogul Evan Roth (played with icy charm by an actor clearly enjoying himself), who sees the magazine not as a cultural institution but as an underperforming asset. As the pressure mounts, Andy becomes central to Miranda’s survival strategy — not as an assistant this time, but as someone who understands both the old world and the new.

The men orbiting Miranda and Andy remain so resolutely beige they could be painted directly onto the set. Kenneth Branagh, as Miranda’s latest husband, drifts through scenes like a distinguished but faintly bewildered museum patron — present, polite, and utterly incapable of matching her gravitational pull. Peter Brammall, playing Andy’s boyfriend Peter, fares no better: a man so gently supportive and narratively weightless he feels less like a romantic partner and more like a well‑meaning flatmate who occasionally remembers they’re dating. And then there’s Stanley Tucci, returning as Nigel, the lone male presence with actual flavour — sharp, warm, and effortlessly charismatic, reminding you how much more alive this world becomes when someone on screen has a pulse stronger than chamomile tea.

Themes: What the Film Tries to Say — and How Well It Says It

The film is preoccupied with change — who drives it, who benefits from it, and who gets crushed beneath it. It contrasts Miranda’s old‑world authority with the frictionless, jargon‑heavy ideology of modern tech.

The “techno‑manosphere” is embodied in nepo‑CEO Jay Ravitz (B.J. Novak) and Emily’s boyfriend Benji Barnes (Justin Theroux), a mash‑up of Musk, Bezos, and Zuckerberg. They spout shibboleths about “cutting expenses” (meaning people) and the inevitability of technological “progress.” Benji’s mantra — “You just have to get out of the way” — is the distilled essence of their worldview: change as inevitability, disruption as moral good, efficiency as destiny.

A critical planning session with a dozen consultants takes place, improbably, in the packed company cafeteria. When Jay invites Miranda, she asks, with surgical disdain, “Do we have one of those?” It’s one of the few moments where the film remembers who she is.

But the film’s biggest misstep is Miranda herself. The original Miranda was frightening because she embodied taste, hierarchy, and institutional authority at their most refined and ruthless. Here, she has been softened into something almost unrecognisable — tidy, tamed, and constantly shadowed by the moral anxieties of 2026. When we see Miranda struggling to hang up her own coat it’s clear that something has changed. And the dialogue tells us she no longer throws her coat at assistants due to HR complaints. The film seems more interested in showing a tamed Miranda than in understanding why she worked in the first place. The result is not growth; it is defanging.

And yet, the film does land one thematic point beautifully: tech’s victory is not inevitable. Without spoiling anything, the final movement hints at a future shaped not by dashboards but by people who still believe in the value of craft. It’s a quiet, almost stealthy note of hope.

Cameos and Watchability

Despite its flaws, the film is undeniably watchable. The cameos — designers, editors, influencers, and a few sly nods to real‑world fashion royalty — give it a fizzy, knowing energy. Lady Gaga’s brief appearance is a highlight: funny, pointed, and perfectly calibrated.

The film moves briskly, the locations are gorgeous, and the cast is uniformly committed. Hathaway remains a compelling centre of gravity; Blunt steals every scene she’s in; Streep, as Miranda, even in a softened register, still radiates authority. Even the tech bros are entertaining in their buffoonery.

It’s not the sharp, cruel, diamond‑cut satire of the original — but it’s never dull.

Would I See The Devil Wears Prada 3?

Absolutely.

And I’d like to see it go further.
I’d like the PC guff — the HR euphemisms, the corporate tone‑policing, the algorithmic hand‑wringing — to be presented as outdated. I’d like a return to mean Miranda, not just as a bully, but as a woman whose authority comes from taste, judgement, and the ability to see what others can’t.

If this sequel is about the world outgrowing its monsters, the third film should be about the world realising it still needs them. Because the truth is that industries don’t collapse from cruelty; they collapse from complacency. Prada 2 imagines a landscape where the sharp edges have been sanded down, where Miranda’s authority is treated as an embarrassing relic, and where institutions believe they can replace vision with workflow and taste with metrics. But the absence of monsters doesn’t create harmony — it creates drift. Standards loosen, identities blur, and the centre of gravity shifts from people who know what they’re doing to people who know how to present what they’re doing. A third film should confront that reckoning head‑on: the uncomfortable but necessary realisation that the figures once dismissed as tyrants were often the ones holding the whole thing together. Not because they were kind, or gentle, or easy, but because they cared enough to demand more than the world found convenient. We need the monsters and we need to learn how to deal with them.

By Pat Harrington

 

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Culture Vulture 30th May – 5th June 2026

A large vulture soaring in the sky with mountains in the background, accompanied by bold text reading 'CULTURE VULTURE' and a banner for 'COUNTER CULTURE' event from 30th May to 5th June 2026.

From Tudor intrigue and American paranoia to Bowie beneath the floodlights and Aretha reclaiming the airwaves, this week’s Culture Vulture ranges widely across cinema, television and sound. There is something quietly defiant about these selections. History refuses to stay buried, old scandals echo into the present and entertainment itself becomes a way of understanding power, identity and memory. Whether it is Gordon Banks and football folklore, Muhammad Ali refusing to fit into easy categories or Russell T Davies returning to themes of love and belonging, the week rewards curiosity.

Three selections stand out. 🌟 The Lion in Winter remains one of the sharpest battles of wills ever committed to film, a royal family drama that could have been written yesterday. 🌟 Shergar: The Racehorse and the IRA revisits one of Ireland’s great unsolved mysteries where sport, politics and organised violence intersect. And 🌟 Dear England arrives as a reminder that football stories are rarely just about football at all, but about national identity, expectation and the fragile business of collective belief.

Culture Vulture, as ever, offers an alternative route through the schedules.

Saturday 30th May 2026

🌟 Shergar: The Racehorse and the IRA
Channel 4, 8.00pm
Catch up via Channel 4 streaming

The disappearance of Shergar remains one of those stories that feels suspended between crime thriller and national myth. The Derby winner who seemed destined for sporting immortality vanished in 1983 and was never recovered, leaving behind rumour, accusation and unanswered questions. Channel 4 revisits the case through the complicated intersection of horse racing, Irish politics and the shadow world of paramilitary activity.

What gives the story its grip is that Shergar was more than a horse. He represented prestige, money and status, and his disappearance carried emotional resonance well beyond racing circles. Even now the case provokes disagreement over motive, culpability and what may have happened during those lost days.

Good documentaries know when mystery matters more than neat resolution. This looks set to recognise that uncertainty is often part of the story itself.

The Count of Monte Cristo (2002)
5Star, 6.20pm

Revenge dramas live or die on the audience believing not merely in injustice but in the wounded intelligence of the person seeking redress. Kevin Reynolds’ adaptation of Alexandre Dumas understands this instinctively. Jim Caviezel’s Edmond Dantès begins as an ordinary sailor betrayed by jealousy and greed, only to emerge from imprisonment transformed into a calculating avenger.

The story remains irresistible because its pleasures are both emotional and theatrical. Dantès does not simply seek revenge; he curates it. His enemies are dismantled piece by piece, and the audience enjoys the spectacle even while sensing the moral cost.

Guy Pearce makes an especially effective Mondego, his treachery rooted not in grand villainy but insecurity and entitlement. Pearce understands that envy often wears the face of friendship before revealing its sharper edges.

The film compresses and simplifies Dumas, sometimes drastically, yet retains the novel’s central heartbeat — the fantasy that intelligence and patience might defeat privilege and corruption.

There is also something enduringly appealing about its romantic sweep. Modern cinema can sometimes be nervous about emotional sincerity, but Monte Cristo embraces melodrama with confidence and charm.

A handsome, entertaining adventure that still carries enough darkness beneath the swordplay to linger.

Ghost Trail (2024)
BBC Four, 9.05pm

Jonathan Millet’s Ghost Trail plays less like a thriller and more like a man trying to walk through the wreckage of his own mind. The Syrian war sits in the background like a bruise that never quite fades, and the film follows a lone figure moving across Europe in pursuit of a man he believes once held the power to destroy him.

What gives the film its quiet force is the way it refuses to turn suffering into a set‑piece. Trauma isn’t staged or stylised; it’s carried. You see it in the way the protagonist holds himself, in the pauses before he speaks, in the way memory seems to press down on him like weight rather than narrative.

Millet keeps the pacing spare, almost ascetic. Scenes breathe. Silences stretch. The tension comes not from the machinery of genre but from the unease of not knowing what justice might look like, or whether it’s even possible after so much damage. Suspicion becomes a kind of weather system the characters move through.

It sits comfortably in that European tradition where filmmakers trust the audience to live with ambiguity. No explanatory flashbacks, no moral signposts, no tidy catharsis — just the slow, unsettling drift of a man trying to decide what he owes to the past and what he can still salvage from the future.

A reminder, stark and unadorned, that crossing a border doesn’t mean leaving a war behind.

David Bowie: Serious Moonlight
Sky Arts, 9.00pm

As a lifelong Bowie obsessive, I always return to 1983 with a kind of fascinated ambivalence. This was the moment when the great shape‑shifter — the man who’d spent a decade outrunning categories — suddenly became a global pop phenomenon. Serious Moonlight captures him right at that pivot point, balancing mass adoration with the cool intelligence that made him Bowie in the first place.

The setlist is almost indecently rich: Heroes, Fashion, Space Oddity, Young Americans, Life on Mars?, and the irresistible, sun‑lit swagger of Let’s Dance. But what holds the attention isn’t just the songs — it’s the way he moves through them. There’s that familiar Bowie duality: fully present yet somehow hovering above the moment, performer and anthropologist of his own fame.

Concert films often wilt as decades pass, victims of their own hairstyles and shoulder pads. Bowie, though, rarely dates. He seems to exist slightly outside the calendar, as if time bends a little to accommodate him. Even here, in his most commercially accessible era, he’s still playing with persona, still testing the edges of what a pop star can be.

A reminder, for those of us who’ve followed him through every incarnation, that even at his most mainstream he never stopped being singular.

Playboy: Secrets of the Centrefolds
12.35am

The Playboy empire remains one of the twentieth century’s strangest cultural contradictions — marketed as liberation while frequently entangled in exploitation and image-making. This documentary strand explores the experiences behind the mythology.

The Great Fire: London Burns
PBS America, 7.35pm
The Great Fire: Death and Destruction
PBS America, 8.35pm
The Great Fire: A City Rebuilt
PBS America, 9.35pm

This three-part examination of the Great Fire promises not simply disaster reconstruction but social history. Fires reveal inequalities as much as architecture, and London’s catastrophe of 1666 reshaped the city physically and psychologically.

Sunday 31st May 2026

🌟 Dear England
BBC One, 9.00pm
Episode 3 of 4 – All episodes on iPlayer

Football dramas often stumble by mistaking fandom for storytelling. James Graham’s Dear England avoids that trap by recognising that Gareth Southgate’s England represented something larger than tournament results.

The drama explores pressure, vulnerability and the attempt to rebuild a national sporting culture too often trapped by fear and nostalgia.

Even viewers indifferent to football may find themselves unexpectedly drawn in.

The Book of Life (2014)
BBC One, 10.00am

Animated cinema occasionally dares to look genuinely distinctive. Jorge Gutierrez’s The Book of Life does precisely that, drawing on Mexican folklore and Day of the Dead traditions with vivid imagination.

Rather than chasing generic fantasy, the film embraces cultural specificity, giving it warmth and personality.

There is romance, humour and adventure, but also reflection on family expectation and memory.

The visual design alone deserves admiration.

A colourful and heartfelt alternative to formula animation.

Genevieve (1953)
Talking Pictures TV, 1.00pm

There’s a particular strain of British comedy that thrives on mild disorder — not slapstick, not farce exactly, but the gentle unravelling of people who think they’re far more dignified than they are. Genevieve remains one of the loveliest examples. Built around the London–Brighton veteran car run, it turns a simple motoring jaunt into a quietly escalating contest of pride and wounded male ego.

Kenneth More and John Gregson spark off each other with an ease that feels almost accidental. The humour doesn’t come from contrived set‑pieces but from personality: two men who can’t quite admit how much they care about winning, or how ridiculous that makes them look.

Yes, there’s nostalgia — the soft glow of post‑war Britain, the charm of old engines and older manners — but there’s also a slyness to it. A knowing look at masculinity, rivalry, and the middle‑class urge to turn everything into a test of character.

A small, bright pleasure of a film, and very British in the best sense.

The Searchers (1956)
BBC Two, 3.30pm

The Searchers is one of those films that refuses to settle neatly into the heroic myth of the American West. John Ford gives you the sweeping vistas, yes — those vast, indifferent landscapes that seem to swallow people whole — but the emotional terrain is far more jagged. And at the centre stands John Wayne’s Ethan Edwards, a figure who is both magnetic and deeply troubling.

Wayne plays him with a hard, unyielding intensity. He’s a man driven by purpose, but the purpose curdles. What begins as a rescue mission slowly reveals itself as something darker: obsession, prejudice, a worldview so rigid it threatens to break everyone around him. Ford never softens it, never reassures the audience with easy moral signposting.

The Monument Valley backdrops are majestic, almost mythic, yet the story they frame is anything but comforting. The film keeps circling the same uneasy question: what happens when the man riding out to save the day is also the one carrying the deepest poison?

Few westerns have the courage to look that squarely at hatred, or to acknowledge how violence can twist a person long after the shooting stops. And the older the film gets, the more unsettling it becomes — as if time only sharpens its edges.

A classic, yes, but one that sta.

Top Hat (1935)
BBC Four, 7.15pm

Pure elegance from Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. Depression-era escapism at its most graceful.

The Manchurian Candidate (1962)
Sky Arts, 9.00pm

Few films capture the texture of political paranoia as cleanly as The Manchurian Candidate. Even now, its Cold War anxieties feel uncomfortably close to home. Frank Sinatra gives one of his sharpest performances, playing a man circling a truth he can barely articulate, let alone face.

What makes the film endure isn’t just its thriller mechanics but its sense of psychological intrusion — the idea that the real danger isn’t out on the battlefield but inside the mind, quietly rewired. The satire is razor‑edged, the mood icy, and the implications still sting.

A reminder that conspiracy, manipulation and manufactured certainty are not relics of another era but recurring features of political life.

The Nice Guys (2016)
BBC One, 10.30pm

Shane Black’s scruffy detective comedy pairs Russell Crowe and Ryan Gosling to glorious effect.

The Blues Brothers (1980)
BBC Two, 10.45pm

Some films strain for cool; The Blues Brothers simply assumes it. Part musical, part anarchic road movie, it barrels forward with the confidence of two men who believe — quite sincerely — that God wants them to save an orphanage and that the best way to do it is by assembling the greatest rhythm‑and‑blues band in Illinois.

What keeps it irresistible is the film’s total commitment to its own glorious absurdity. Car chases that defy physics, musical numbers that erupt without warning, and a parade of legends — Aretha Franklin, Ray Charles, James Brown — who treat the chaos as perfectly normal.

It shouldn’t work. It absolutely does. A hymn to deadpan mayhem and the healing power of a good horn section.

South Bank at 75: You Are Here
BBC Two, 10.00pm
Catch up via iPlayer

A celebration of one of Britain’s great cultural institutions and the conversations that have shaped it.

Monday 1st June 2026

🌟 Tiptoe
Channel 4, 9.00pm
Episodes 1 and 2 – also available via Channel 4 streaming

Russell T Davies has spent much of his career exploring the spaces where private lives and public attitudes collide. From Queer as Folk to It’s A Sin, he has shown a gift for mixing wit, emotion and social observation without reducing characters to arguments. Tiptoe arrives carrying inevitable expectation.

The drama promises to examine relationships and identity with Davies’ familiar combination of warmth and confrontation. His scripts rarely avoid discomfort, but they also recognise humour and tenderness as survival mechanisms.

That matters because television drama can sometimes become strangely bloodless when attempting seriousness, mistaking solemnity for emotional truth. Davies understands that life rarely behaves so tidily.

The shadow of Queer as Folk inevitably hangs nearby, particularly with Channel 4 making his breakthrough series newly available again. Yet revisiting Queer as Folk is a reminder not only of how provocative it once felt, but how playful and alive it remains.

Television has changed enormously since 1999. So too has the political and cultural atmosphere surrounding sexuality and belonging. Tiptoe enters that conversation at a moment when questions of identity again dominate public debate.

Whether it becomes essential television remains to be seen, but Davies rarely lacks ambition and almost never lacks something worth saying.

Monolith (2022)
Film4, 9.00pm

Science fiction does not require giant budgets to generate unease. Monolith proves the point through admirable restraint. Much of the film unfolds through the voice and experience of a disgraced journalist investigating strange reports connected to mysterious black bricks.

The set-up sounds eccentric and, admittedly, it is. Yet the film cleverly uses isolation and ambiguity to create atmosphere.

There is something distinctly contemporary about its concern with information, credibility and digital storytelling. The protagonist lives in a world where truth competes with rumour and attention itself becomes currency.

The limited setting works to the film’s advantage. Rather than feeling constrained, the story develops an almost claustrophobic intimacy.

Genre cinema sometimes benefits from knowing exactly what not to explain.

A quietly unnerving piece of speculative storytelling.

🌟 Dear England
BBC One, 9.00pm
Episode 4 of 4

James Graham’s drama reaches its conclusion with Gareth Southgate and England confronting the pressures that accompany modern football. Yet the appeal of Dear England lies not in match results but emotional architecture.

Southgate emerges less as sporting saviour than reluctant national therapist, trying to reshape attitudes inherited through decades of disappointment and defensive masculinity.

Football occupies an unusual place within British life — simultaneously entertainment, identity and emotional shorthand. Graham’s drama understands this instinctively.

By exploring vulnerability alongside competition, the series offers something richer than simple sporting biography.

Even those who know the outcomes may find themselves invested in the emotional journey.

Ancient Greece: The Dark Chronicles
Begins Monday – Part 1 of 5

Civilisation documentaries sometimes present antiquity as settled fact, all marble certainty and textbook chronology. The attraction of this new series lies in its promise to examine the more shadowy and uncertain origins of Ancient Greece.

The “dark” in Dark Ages history often refers not to barbarism but gaps in evidence — periods where archaeology and scholarship must work harder to reconstruct vanished worlds.

That uncertainty makes history exciting.

Leonora Carrington: The Lost Surrealist
BBC Four, 10.50pm

Carrington remains one of surrealism’s most fascinating and frequently overlooked figures. Artist, novelist and myth-maker, she moved through twentieth-century upheaval refusing easy categorisation.

Documentaries about artists often reduce creative lives to chronology. Carrington deserves something stranger and more adventurous.

BBC Four generally understands this territory well.

King Rat (1965)
Talking Pictures TV, 1.45am

Bryan Forbes’ adaptation of James Clavell’s novel turns the prison camp drama into something morally slippery and psychologically revealing.

George Segal’s opportunistic anti-hero survives through barter and manipulation, exposing how systems of deprivation reshape ethics.

The film avoids patriotic simplification and instead studies power in miniature.

Uncomfortable and intelligent.

Tuesday 2nd June 2026

Belle (2013)
Film4, 6.45pm

Amma Asante’s Belle begins with historical curiosity and develops into something more resonant — a period drama attentive not only to romance and costume but race, inheritance and social status.

Inspired by the life of Dido Elizabeth Belle, the film explores eighteenth-century Britain through a perspective too rarely granted centre stage.

Gugu Mbatha-Raw brings intelligence and emotional nuance to the role.

The film recognises that privilege and exclusion often coexist in uneasy proximity.

Beautifully staged and quietly political.

Carlito’s Way (1993)
Legend, 9.00pm

Brian De Palma’s crime drama deserves discussion alongside the director’s better-known gangster films. Al Pacino plays Carlito Brigante, recently released from prison and desperate to escape criminal life.

What makes the film moving is that Carlito genuinely wants redemption.

Pacino gives a performance filled with melancholy and self-awareness, while Sean Penn delivers one of cinema’s great performances as crooked lawyer Dave Kleinfeld.

The tension comes not from whether violence exists, but whether history can be escaped.

De Palma stages suspense with characteristic elegance.

A tragic gangster picture about fate, loyalty and the impossibility of outrunning reputation.

Artsnight: A Tribute to Carla Lane
BBC Four, 8.00pm
Catch up via iPlayer

Carla Lane possessed a rare ability to write comedy grounded in recognisable human frustration. From The Liver Birds to Bread, her work balanced humour with social observation and emotional truth.

This tribute revisits a writer who understood ordinary lives without patronising them.

Muhammad Ali
BBC Four, 10.00pm

Ken Burns’ portrait of Muhammad Ali remains one of the most complete attempts to understand a man who refused to be contained by any single role. Boxer, activist, showman, dissenter — Ali kept shifting shape, and the documentary’s strength lies in acknowledging that complexity rather than sanding it down.

Burns doesn’t chase a tidy narrative. Instead, he sits with the contradictions: the bravado and the vulnerability, the political courage and the personal cost, the way Ali could be both a unifying symbol and a divisive presence. It’s a study of a man who changed sport and then stepped beyond it, becoming a figure onto whom entire eras projected their anxieties and hopes.

This conveys the sense of a life lived at full voltage — principled, provocative, and never less than compelling. Ali didn’t just transcend boxing; he rewrote the terms on which an athlete could exist in public.

Wednesday 3rd June 2026

The Future with Hannah Fry
BBC Two, 7.30pm
Full series available via iPlayer

Television science can sometimes drift towards the reassuringly spectacular — dazzling graphics, simplified certainties and declarations of imminent revolution. Hannah Fry tends to resist that temptation. Her strength lies in curiosity and clarity rather than grandstanding.

This edition turns to nuclear fusion, that tantalising scientific horizon forever described as both transformative and frustratingly distant. Fusion has occupied a strange place in public imagination for decades — part engineering challenge, part technological dream, forever hovering between promise and practical reality.

Fry is particularly good at translating complexity without patronising her audience. That matters because science is often treated as something delivered from on high rather than explored collectively.

Fusion, if realised, carries obvious implications for energy, economics and environmental policy, but the human drama behind scientific endeavour is equally compelling — persistence, rivalry, failure and breakthrough.

At its best, science television reminds us that knowledge itself is an adventure.

Penny Serenade (1941)
Talking Pictures TV, 9.10am

Hollywood melodrama has fallen out of fashion among critics wary of open emotion, yet Penny Serenade is a reminder of why audiences once embraced it so fiercely. There’s a sincerity to it — unguarded, unembarrassed — that feels almost radical now.

Irene Dunne and Cary Grant play a couple weathering love, disappointment and the fragile hope of parenthood. The story edges towards sentimentality, of course it does, but it earns its weight through the performances. Grant, so often remembered for his wit and immaculate poise, gives one of his most vulnerable turns here; the mask slips, and what’s underneath is raw and deeply human.

The film understands grief not as a grand collapse but as something that gathers quietly — a slow accumulation of moments, losses, compromises. It’s in the silences, the hesitations, the way two people try to keep moving forward even when the ground shifts beneath them.

Its emotional honesty lingers long after the final scene. A small reminder, delivered without apology, that sincerity still has its place.

Its emotional honesty lingers long after the closing scenes.

The Caine Mutiny (1954)
Film4, 12.45pm

Military dramas frequently present leadership as either noble certainty or outright villainy. The Caine Mutiny wisely prefers ambiguity.

Humphrey Bogart’s Captain Queeg remains one of cinema’s most fascinating authority figures — insecure, obsessive and gradually destabilised under pressure.

The film asks difficult questions about obedience and responsibility. Was mutiny justified, or did the crew simply lose faith too quickly? Such uncertainty keeps the drama alive.

Courtroom scenes crackle with tension and moral complexity. A superb study of hierarchy and doubt.

Corsage (2022)
Film4, 1.30am

Historical drama can become trapped inside museum glass, reverential and lifeless. Corsage refuses that fate.

Vicky Krieps plays Empress Elisabeth of Austria not as decorative icon but restless, intelligent and constrained woman resisting the suffocating rituals of imperial life.

The film deliberately unsettles expectations.

Modern flourishes and tonal dislocation prevent history becoming comfortable heritage.

Krieps delivers a remarkable performance full of wit, sadness and defiance.

The result feels unexpectedly contemporary.

A fascinating portrait of rebellion against image and expectation.

Bombshell (2019)
Film4, 11.40pm

The downfall of Roger Ailes and the sexual harassment scandal surrounding Fox News became one of the defining media stories of recent years. Bombshell dramatises those events with energy and star power.

Charlize Theron, Nicole Kidman and Margot Robbie anchor the film, though Theron’s transformation into Megyn Kelly remains particularly striking.

The film moves briskly, sometimes at the expense of deeper analysis, yet it captures something vital about institutional culture and the pressures surrounding power.

Media organisations often market themselves as truth-tellers while quietly reproducing their own internal silences.

That contradiction gives Bombshell its charge.

Sharp, unsettling and highly watchable.

Fire Island (2022)
Channel 4, 1.55am

Austen and queer comedy might sound like an unlikely pairing, but Fire Island makes the connection feel effortless. It lifts the bones of Pride and Prejudice and relocates them to the sun‑bleached chaos of the famous holiday enclave, where romantic misreadings and class anxieties play out with a distinctly modern charge.

The humour is bright, quick on its feet, and affectionate rather than arch. But beneath the jokes sits something more attentive: a clear‑eyed look at friendship, exclusion, and the quiet negotiations of belonging that shape queer spaces. The film never treats representation as homework. Instead, it lets its characters exist with warmth, contradiction and the kind of emotional looseness that feels lived‑in rather than symbolic.

Playful, clever, and unexpectedly touching — a reminder that reinvention can be both joyful and sincere.

Thursday 4th June 2026

🌟 The Lion in Winter (1968)
Sky Arts, 9.00pm

Some family gatherings end in awkward silences; Henry II’s Christmas court makes most domestic disputes look like a mild disagreement over the turkey. Anthony Harvey’s The Lion in Winter gathers a cast operating at full, almost operatic intensity, with Peter O’Toole’s combustible Henry squaring off against Katharine Hepburn’s Eleanor of Aquitaine — a woman who has turned wounded brilliance into a political art form.

James Goldman’s dialogue is a feast in itself: barbed, witty, and laced with the kind of intelligence that assumes the audience can keep up. Every exchange feels like a duel, every line a strategic move. Royal politics here aren’t about crowns and territories so much as psychological warfare — old grievances sharpened into weapons, love and resentment tangled beyond separation.

Hepburn is extraordinary: amused one moment, furious the next, always calculating, always alive to the shifting balance of power. She gives Eleanor a dangerous sparkle, a sense that she’s playing three games at once and winning at least two of them.

What the film understands — and what gives it its enduring bite — is that the great political struggles of history often begin at the dinner table, long before they spill into the chronicles. Power, after all, is a family business.

Timeless, literate, and gloriously savage.

Randall and Hopkirk (Deceased)
Rewind TV, 12 noon and 8.00pm
Catch up via Freeview Play

Few television premises sound quite as cheerfully eccentric as a detective aided by his dead partner. Yet Randall and Hopkirk (Deceased) possesses the charm and imaginative confidence characteristic of late-1960s British television.

There is nostalgia here, certainly, but also invention.

Lion (2016)
Film4, 11.20pm

True stories often arrive already heavy with emotion, but Lion earns its power by refusing to push or manipulate. It trusts the story — and the audience — enough to let the feeling emerge naturally.

Dev Patel plays Saroo Brierley, a boy separated from his family in India and later adopted by an Australian couple. Patel gives the film its emotional spine, charting the long, uncertain journey between the life he remembers and the life he’s built. Nicole Kidman and David Wenham offer quietly affecting support, their performances grounded in the everyday tenderness and strain of parenting a child shaped by loss.

What the film captures so well is the complexity of identity: the pull of memory, the ache of belonging, the way home can be both a place and a longing. Modern technology — so often a narrative shortcut — becomes here a bridge, a way of stitching together two halves of a life without diminishing either.

The result is deeply moving without tipping into sentimentality. A film about home in its deepest sense: the one you come from, the one you make, and the one you spend years trying to find again.

Friday 5th June 2026

The Ballad of Lefty Brown (2017)
Great Action, 6.45pm

Revisionist westerns often examine the myth of heroism through damaged or overlooked figures. The Ballad of Lefty Brown does precisely that.

Bill Pullman gives an engaging performance as ageing sidekick Lefty, unexpectedly pushed into the foreground after violence overturns familiar loyalties.

The western landscape remains beautiful, though melancholy hangs over it.

A modest but rewarding genre piece.

🌟 Nope (2022)
Film4, 9.00pm

Jordan Peele has rapidly become one of modern cinema’s most intriguing filmmakers because he recognises horror as social language rather than simple fright mechanism.

Nope begins with spectacle and gradually becomes an inquiry into spectatorship itself — our hunger to witness, record and commodify the extraordinary.

Daniel Kaluuya and Keke Palmer provide contrasting energies, one inward and cautious, the other charismatic and restless.

The film blends science fiction, western imagery and monster movie tradition.

Yet beneath the thrills sits something more unsettling about entertainment culture and our appetite for disaster.

Strange, ambitious and visually extraordinary.

Celebrity Gogglebox
Channel 4, 9.00pm
Episode 1 of 7 – catch up via Channel 4 streaming

The appeal of Gogglebox has always rested on a simple truth: people enjoy watching other people react. Celebrity editions risk gimmickry, yet often succeed because familiar faces prove unexpectedly candid.

This year’s cast — from Vernon Kay and Paddy McGuinness to Bez and Shaun Ryder, Rylan and his mother Linda — promises the usual mixture of wit, irritation and affectionate chaos.

Have I Got News for You
BBC One, 9.00pm

Yet HIGNFY survives through sharp improvisation and the pleasure of watching certainty punctured.

David Tennant hosts, joined by Michael Gove and Chloe Petts. In politically turbulent times, satire increasingly finds itself competing with reality.

Aretha Franklin Night
BBC Four, from 9.00pm
Catch up via iPlayer

Aretha Franklin possessed one of those voices capable of sounding both intimate and monumental. BBC Four devotes the evening to the Queen of Soul, celebrating a performer whose artistry transcended genre and era.

Music television rarely needs elaborate justification when the subject is Aretha.

Bodies Bodies Bodies (2022)
BBC One, 11.20pmA horror film on the surface, but really a scalpel aimed at wealth, performance and the jittery anxieties of the very online generation. Bodies Bodies Bodies dresses itself as a murder‑mystery, yet the real bloodletting happens in the group chat — status, insecurity and self‑curation turning toxic long before anyone picks up a weapon.

The satire is razor‑clean. Every accusation feels like a performance, every confession a bid for sympathy, every friendship a negotiation of power. It’s funny, vicious and uncomfortably accurate about how quickly people implode when the Wi‑Fi drops and the masks slip.

A thriller for the age of curated selves and catastrophic overthinking — sharp, stylish and far more revealing than its neon chaos suggests.

The Lighthouse (2019)
Channel 4, 1.05am

Robert Eggers’ The Lighthouse is less a film than a fever — a two‑handed descent into isolation, superstition and the kind of madness that grows when the sea won’t stop howling. It turns confinement into delirium, the walls closing in as reality begins to warp.

Willem Dafoe and Robert Pattinson clash magnificently, two men circling each other like rival myths. Dafoe’s barnacled old keeper speaks in curses and sea‑dog poetry; Pattinson’s younger man unravels in fits and starts, as if the island itself is prying him open.

Shot in stark black‑and‑white, the film feels ancient and alien, as though dredged up from some forgotten maritime

Radio Selections

A digital radio displaying '92.5 FM' with black headphones placed beside it on a smooth surface, representing a modern radio listening experience.

Archive on 4: The Louisville Lip
Saturday, 8.00pm – Radio 4

Muhammad Ali continues to echo across this week’s schedules. This documentary revisits the boxer whose brilliance and provocation reshaped sport and public life.

Voices from the Beach
Sunday, 7.15pm – Radio 4

At the heart of Voices from the Beach is poet Sali Katebe, who arrived in Britain from landlocked Zambia and fell, almost immediately, for the strange, shifting magic of our coastlines. The programme uses his perspective as its anchor: someone encountering the sea not as a familiar backdrop but as a revelation — a place where sound, weather and memory seem to rearrange themselves.

Katebe’s voice threads through the piece like a tide‑line. He speaks of beaches as thresholds, as invitations, as spaces where the mind loosens and the past drifts closer. Around him, Radio 4 builds an immersive soundscape: gulls cutting across the air, waves folding over themselves, the soft percussion of shingle underfoot. It’s radio that breathes.

What emerges is part memoir, part meditation. Katebe reflects on belonging, on the pull of water for someone raised far from it, and on how coastlines can become a kind of emotional shorthand — for arrival, for solitude, for the quiet work of remaking a life. The programme listens closely to the small things: the way light changes on a grey afternoon, the rhythm of a walk taken to clear the head, the stories beaches seem to hold without ever speaking.

Reflective, atmospheric and quietly moving, it’s a reminder that the sea means different things depending on where you began — and that sometimes the most powerful journeys happen at the water’s edge.

Podcast Picks

A desktop podcasting setup featuring a microphone on a boom arm, a laptop displaying sound waves, a notepad with a pen, and a coffee cup.

We Was Robbed (Audible – available 28th May)

Gabriel Gatehouse investigates one of English football’s enduring mysteries — what derailed England’s 1970 World Cup defence, and was Gordon Banks somehow “knobbled”? The series mixes sporting folklore, forgotten detail and investigative curiosity with real verve.

Stateside with Kai and Carter

The Guardian launches a podcast for listeners exhausted by the churn of modern news. Three times weekly, Kai Wright and Carter Sherman unpack American stories with guests able to explain rather than inflame.

Kingdom of Fraud

Michele McPhee investigates a billion-dollar tax fraud involving Armenian mafia figure Levon Termendzhyan and Mormon sect leader Jacob Kingston.

True crime with scale, intrigue and stranger-than-fiction alliances.

Streaming Choices

A hand holding a remote control points at a television showing streaming options labeled 'Top Picks' and 'New Releases,' with a radio displaying FM frequency 92.5 in the foreground and a bowl of popcorn next to it.

Netflix

The Murder of Rachel Nickell

A sober, unsettling retelling of a case that scarred the 1990s. The documentary avoids lurid reconstruction, focusing instead on institutional failure, media frenzy and the human cost of a police force chasing the wrong man. Clear‑eyed, compassionate and quietly devastating.

It Ends With Us Available now

Colleen Hoover’s bestseller arrives on screen as a glossy, emotionally forthright drama about love, trauma and the patterns people struggle to break. Blake Lively anchors it with a performance that balances charm and bruised resolve. Melodrama with purpose, and more bite than expected.


Michael Jackson: The Verdict Available Wednesday, 3 June 2026

A cool, methodical examination of the legal battles that reshaped Jackson’s final years. Rather than reheating scandal, it traces the machinery of accusation, defence and public perception. The result is stark, unsettling and revealing about the pressures placed on a man already living inside a global myth.

Channel 4 Streaming


Walter Presents: The Devil’s Throat All 12 episodes from Friday, 5 June 2026

A taut Bulgarian thriller that blends crime drama with political unease. The investigation winds through corruption, folklore and buried trauma, giving the series a brooding, wintry charge. Dark, deliberate and quietly gripping.

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Culture Vulture: 16th–22nd May 2026

There’s a strong undercurrent running through this week’s selections: institutions under pressure, myths being dismantled, and the uneasy relationship between image and reality. Whether it’s the collapsing morality of Brighton Rock, the paranoia of The Teachers’ Lounge, the media manipulations of Berlusconi and Elon Musk, or Marilyn Monroe trapped within the machinery of celebrity, much of this week’s viewing circles around people caught inside systems larger than themselves. Even the lighter selections carry that tension beneath the surface. Mean Girls understands social hierarchy as ruthlessly as any political thriller, while Rivals turns 1980s television into a battlefield of ego, money and performance.

Three highlights stand out this week. 🌟 Apocalypse Now remains one of cinema’s greatest visions of imperial madness, still overwhelming nearly fifty years on. 🌟 The Teachers’ Lounge is one of the sharpest recent dramas about institutional panic and surveillance culture. 🌟 BBC Four’s Dylan night offers a fascinating meditation on artistic reinvention, obsession and mythmaking around one of popular music’s most elusive figures.

As ever, Culture Vulture tries to look beyond simple entertainment value. This week’s programmes and films repeatedly ask who controls narratives, who benefits from power, and how individuals navigate systems built around spectacle, authority and manipulation. Fortunately, they also happen to be exceptionally entertaining.

Saturday 16th May 2026

🌟 The Teachers’ Lounge (2023) – BBC Four, 9pm and available on BBC iPlayer

This tense German drama turns an ordinary secondary school into a miniature surveillance state. When a series of thefts leads to accusations among staff and pupils, idealistic teacher Carla Nowak finds herself trapped inside a spiralling culture of suspicion, institutional self-protection and moral panic. What begins as a seemingly minor disciplinary issue gradually escalates into something far more unsettling.

Director İlker Çatak understands how quickly modern institutions can become consumed by process rather than justice. The school’s language of fairness and safeguarding masks deeper anxieties around authority, reputation and control, while social media and digital communication intensify every misunderstanding. Leonie Benesch gives a superb performance as a teacher attempting to remain principled while the structures around her quietly collapse.

What makes The Teachers’ Lounge so effective is its refusal to offer easy villains. Almost everyone believes they are acting reasonably, yet the collective result becomes increasingly oppressive and irrational. Sharp, claustrophobic and deeply contemporary, it is one of the most perceptive films about institutional anxiety in recent years.

Brighton Rock (1947) – Talking Pictures, 1.40pm

Few British crime films capture moral decay as vividly as Brighton Rock. Adapted from Brighton Rock by Graham Greene, the film turns the seaside resort into a landscape of spiritual corruption and post-war unease. Richard Attenborough delivers a chilling performance as Pinkie Brown, a teenage gangster whose cruelty seems inseparable from his terror of the world around him.

The Brighton depicted here feels haunted by decline, its cheap entertainments masking something darker beneath the surface. Decades later, the film still feels unsettling precisely because it refuses easy redemption or comforting morality.

Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison (1957) – Film4, 2.55pm

Deborah Kerr and Robert Mitchum bring remarkable emotional subtlety to this wartime drama about isolation, repression and companionship. Director John Huston allows silence and atmosphere to do much of the work, creating a sense of emotional tension that lingers throughout.

The film quietly reflects the anxieties of the 1950s: duty, faith, masculinity and the difficulty of emotional honesty. Beneath the tropical setting lies a surprisingly mature meditation on loneliness and sacrifice.

Mandate for Murder: Britain’s Struggle in Palestine – PBS America, 10.15pm

This documentary examines the final years of the British Mandate in Palestine, exploring how imperial policy, insurgency and diplomatic failure combined to shape a conflict whose consequences still reverberate globally today.

Dense but highly absorbing, it offers valuable historical context for understanding a region still trapped within unresolved tensions from that era.

Upgrade (2018) – Legend, 11.15pm

Leigh Whannell’s brutal techno-thriller feels increasingly plausible with every passing year. Set in a near future dominated by surveillance capitalism and invasive technology, Upgrade follows a paralysed mechanic implanted with an experimental AI system after a violent attack leaves his wife dead.

The film’s ending remains one of the bleakest mainstream science-fiction finales of recent years — a chilling warning about autonomy, algorithms and technological dependency.

The Last Duel (2021) – Channel 4, 11.20pm

Ridley Scott returns to medieval Europe with a film examining violence, masculinity and power through sharply contemporary eyes. Jodie Comer gives the film its moral centre in a story less about spectacle than institutional injustice.

Far from being merely historical drama, the film becomes a study of credibility, entitlement and systems protecting themselves.

Sunday 17th May 2026

Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) – BBC Two, 2.30pm

Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell radiate charisma in one of Hollywood’s most joyous musicals. Beneath the glamour sits a surprisingly sharp satire about money, romance and survival within post-war America.

The film’s refusal to punish female ambition remains refreshingly modern.

Mean Girls (2004) – ITV2, 7.05pm

Tina Fey’s Mean Girls arrives in 2004 looking like a bubblegum teen comedy, all pink plastics and cafeteria cartography, but beneath the gloss it’s doing something far more sly. Fey treats the American high school not as a backdrop but as a fully functioning micro‑state — a place where power is negotiated through appearance, language, and the ever‑shifting borders of adolescent allegiance. The film understands that the real curriculum isn’t maths or English but the daily study of how to survive socially without losing your sense of self.

What gives it its staying power is the precision of its observation. Every corridor becomes a diplomatic zone. Every lunch table a fragile coalition. Every outfit a communiqué. And into this world walks Cady Heron, a girl raised outside the system who must learn its rules at speed. Her journey — from naïve outsider to calculating insider and back again — is less a plot than a case study in how identity is shaped, warped and sometimes obliterated by the need to belong.

Long before Instagram, TikTok or the relentless metrics of modern teenage life, Mean Girls grasped the exhausting labour of self‑surveillance. The way young people monitor themselves with the vigilance of border guards. The way a single misstep can feel like a geopolitical crisis. Watching it now, you realise Fey wasn’t just writing jokes; she was diagnosing a culture on the brink of becoming permanently performative.

And yet the film never loses its lightness. It’s funny, quotable, brisk — but threaded with a melancholy awareness of how fragile teenage identities really are. Beneath the bright colours and the comic timing lies a portrait of a generation rehearsing adulthood under fluorescent lights, trying on personas like costumes, hoping one of them might fit.

It remains, two decades on, one of the sharpest dissections of adolescent politics ever smuggled into a mainstream comedy. A film that saw the future coming and, with a raised eyebrow, warned us what it would feel like to live inside it.

The Cage – Episode 4 of 5 – BBC One, 9pm, full series available on BBC iPlayer

This gripping thriller continues to build tension around surveillance, secrecy and institutional distrust. The show’s atmosphere of quiet paranoia increasingly feels rooted in contemporary anxieties about systems designed more to contain than protect.

Brother (2022) – BBC Two, 10.50pm

Based on David Chariandy’s acclaimed novel, Brother is a deeply moving exploration of grief, race and masculinity within Toronto’s Caribbean community. Director Clement Virgo handles the material with enormous sensitivity.

Quietly devastating, it lingers long after the credits.

Mosul (2022) – Great Action, 1.30am

In Mosul, the war is not a backdrop but a suffocating atmosphere—grit, dust, and exhaustion pressed into every frame. The film rejects the clean lines of heroism and instead inhabits the chaos of a city pulverised by ideology and survival instinct. Streets are reduced to rubble, loyalties to reflex. What remains is the human impulse to endure, even when meaning has collapsed.

The Iraqi fighters here are not symbols but men hollowed by repetition—each skirmish another act of attrition rather than triumph. Director Matthew Michael Carnahan captures the rhythm of fatigue: the way violence becomes procedural, stripped of rhetoric, leaving only the weary mechanics of staying alive. The camera moves like a participant, not an observer, its urgency mirroring the moral claustrophobia of a world where every choice corrodes.

By the end, Mosul feels less like a war film than a study in entropy. Ideology dissolves, leaving behind the stubborn persistence of humanity amid ruin—a portrait of courage that refuses to flatter itself.

Monday 18th May 2026

Our Tiny Islands – More4, 9pm

This quietly beautiful documentary visits the Scottish island of Iona, where sheep farmer Joanne balances agricultural life with the fragile realities of island survival.

At a time when television often chases noise and conflict, Our Tiny Islands offers something slower and more reflective.

The Cage – BBC One, 9pm, full series on BBC iPlayer

The latest episode deepens the show’s atmosphere of institutional paranoia, pushing its characters further into moral uncertainty.

Lucy Worsley Investigates: The American Revolution – BBC Two, 9pm, available

Lucy Worsley explores the myths, contradictions and contested narratives surrounding the American Revolution.

Timely viewing at a moment when democratic ideals and national identity are once again fiercely contested.

Thailand: The Dark Side of Paradise – BBC Three, 9pm, 9.45pm and 10.30pm

This documentary strand explores the criminal underworlds and hidden economies operating beneath Thailand’s tourist image, examining how escapism, organised crime and inequality collide.

There is a strong undercurrent of melancholy beneath the beaches and nightlife.

Destroyer (2018) – BBC Two, 11.45pm

Nicole Kidman gives one of her boldest performances in this bleak neo-noir about trauma, guilt and institutional corruption.

Difficult, uncompromising and deeply atmospheric.

Tuesday 19th May 2026

Corinthians: We Were the Champions – BBC Four, 10pm, available on BBC iPlayer

This is the story of a team history almost forgot — the Manchester Corinthians Ladies FC, founded in 1949 and forged in defiance of the FA’s long, punitive ban on women’s football. The documentary gathers ten surviving players, now in their seventies, eighties and nineties, and lets them speak with the clarity of people who lived through something both exhilarating and quietly outrageous: a period when women were told, officially and repeatedly, that the sport they loved was not for them.

What emerges is not a tale of plucky novelty but of solidarity under constraint. These women built their own infrastructure when the governing body refused them pitches, recognition or even basic legitimacy. They toured the world, played to vast crowds abroad, and won tournaments that the FA pretended didn’t exist. The film treats these achievements not as curiosities but as acts of cultural resistance — small, determined rebellions against a system that tried to erase them.

There’s a tenderness to the way the documentary listens. The players recall the thrill of travel, the camaraderie of long coach journeys, the pride of representing a country that refused to acknowledge them. But threaded through the anecdotes is a sharper truth: that their success forced the FA, decades later, into a rare moment of contrition. The apology lands like a delayed recognition of what they always knew — that they were champions long before anyone bothered to write it down.

More than a sports documentary, it becomes a study of perseverance, collective dignity and the politics of being told “no” and playing on anyway. A portrait of women who refused to wait for permission, and in doing so changed the landscape of the game for everyone who followed.

Belmarsh: Serial Killers and High Security – Channel 5, 11.05pm and 12.05am

This two-part documentary enters Britain’s most notorious high-security prison, examining violent offenders alongside the institutional systems built to contain them.

The programme raises uncomfortable questions about punishment, spectacle and society’s fascination with true crime.

Small Town Big Riot – BBC Three, 11.20pm and 12.20am

BBC Three revisits the 2023 riots in Kirkby, Merseyside, before turning to local opposition surrounding a planned asylum centre.

Rather than simplifying events into slogans, the documentary explores mistrust, economic pressure and fractured community identity in modern Britain.

Berlusconi: Condemned to Win – Part 3 – BBC Four, 11.30pm, also available on BBC iPlayer

This fascinating documentary examines how Silvio Berlusconi fused celebrity culture, media ownership and populist politics long before such tactics became globally familiar.

Watching it now often feels less like history than prophecy.

The Krays (1990) – BBC One, 11.45pm

Peter Medak’s portrait of the Kray twins remains one of Britain’s most psychologically interesting gangster films — less interested in swagger than emotional dependency and social claustrophobia.

Wednesday 20th May 2026

The Future with Hannah Fry – BBC Two, 7.30pm, available on BBC iPlayer

Hannah Fry returns with another accessible exploration of science, technology and rapidly changing modern life.

At a moment when AI and automation dominate public debate, the programme offers useful reflection rather than panic.

Green Book (2018) – BBC Three, 9pmGreen Book (2018) — BBC Three — 9pm

Green Book is at its most compelling when it stops trying to solve America and simply lets its two leads inhabit the uneasy space between them. Mahershala Ali and Viggo Mortensen give the film its emotional ballast: Ali with his contained, almost architectural precision; Mortensen with a looser, more instinctive physicality. Together they create a dynamic that feels lived‑in rather than schematic — two men negotiating the boundaries of class, race and masculinity in a country that insists those boundaries are fixed.

Set against the backdrop of a segregated America, the road trip becomes a kind of moving pressure chamber. Each town, each bar, each immaculate Southern mansion exposes a different facet of the racial order: its absurdities, its cruelties, its rituals of humiliation. The film doesn’t always confront these structures with the sharpness they deserve, but it does understand how racism shapes the smallest interactions — the glances, the silences, the rules that are never spoken aloud because everyone already knows them.

What keeps the film interesting today is precisely this tension. It wants reconciliation, warmth, the possibility of mutual recognition. But it can’t entirely escape the shadows cast by the world it depicts. The friendship that develops between Don Shirley and Tony Lip is touching, yes, but it is also freighted with the asymmetries of the era: who gets to move freely, who gets to speak plainly, who gets to be fully themselves without consequence.

Viewed now, Green Book feels like a film caught between two impulses — the desire to soothe and the need to acknowledge. It doesn’t resolve that contradiction, but in its better moments it lets the audience sit with it. And in the performances of Ali and Mortensen, you sense the deeper story beneath the surface: two men travelling through a country that is still deciding who counts, and on what terms.

Marilyn and the Mob – Channel 4, 10pm and 11pm

This two-part documentary explores the long-rumoured connections between Marilyn Monroe, organised crime and Hollywood power structures.

At its best, the programme becomes less about conspiracy and more about exploitation, celebrity and institutional manipulation.

Thursday 21st May 2026

Marilyn Monroe Night – BBC Four, from 8pm

BBC Four devotes the evening to Marilyn Monroe, beginning with Eva Marilyn (1987), in which photographer Eve Arnold reflects on her encounters with Monroe beyond the studio image.

The evening also includes Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953), a programme on Jane Russell, and How to Marry a Millionaire (1953).

Taken together, the evening becomes less nostalgia than a meditation on celebrity, femininity and the machinery of fame.

Shadow of a Doubt (1943) – Film4, 2.25pm

Often cited by Alfred Hitchcock as one of his personal favourites, this superb thriller transforms small-town America into a landscape of hidden menace and creeping paranoia.

The Elon Musk Show: The Next Chapter – BBC Two, 9pm

This follow-up documentary examines the increasingly chaotic and politically divisive public life of Elon Musk.

The programme asks increasingly urgent questions about private wealth, technology and democratic accountability.

Friday 22nd May 2026

🌟 Apocalypse Now (1979) – Film4, 9pm

Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now remains one of cinema’s great, disorienting plunges into the abyss — a film that doesn’t so much depict war as inhale it, choke on it, and exhale something feverish and unsteady. Loosely tracing the bones of Heart of Darkness, it follows Captain Willard upriver on a mission that becomes less a military assignment than a descent through layers of moral erosion. Each stop along the river feels like a different stage of psychic collapse, a place where the usual coordinates — duty, sanity, purpose — have slipped out of reach.

What still astonishes, nearly fifty years on, is the film’s hallucinatory density. Coppola shoots Vietnam as a landscape where reality buckles under the weight of spectacle: helicopters choreographed to Wagner, flares blooming like poisonous flowers, the jungle vibrating with menace. It’s war as theatre, war as ritual, war as a kind of collective madness in which everyone is performing a version of themselves they no longer recognise.

Willard’s journey towards Colonel Kurtz becomes a study in contagion — how violence seeps into the bloodstream, how the line between hunter and hunted dissolves. By the time we reach Kurtz’s compound, the film has shed any pretence of conventional narrative. What’s left is a confrontation with the darkest corners of human capability, delivered in whispers, shadows and the oppressive heat of a world where morality has evaporated.

The scale is operatic, the mood narcotic, the effect overwhelming. Even now, the film feels less like something you watch than something you endure — a fever dream that drags you into its undertow and leaves you blinking, unsettled, unsure where the nightmare ends and the world resumes.

🌟 Dylan Night – BBC Four, from 9pm

Close-up portrait of an older man with curly hair, wearing a black leather jacket and a bolo tie. He has a serious expression and is looking directly at the camera.
Bob Dylan by KollectivFutur

BBC Four celebrates Bob Dylan with Sings Dylan, Sings Dylan 2, Shadow Kingdom and the fascinating documentary Tangled Up with Dylan: The Ballad of A.J. Weberman.

Together they become an exploration not simply of Dylan’s music, but of obsession, mythology and artistic reinvention itself.

And Now for Something Completely Different (1971) – BBC Two, 11pm

Before Monty Python became a national institution — the sort of comedy outfit wheeled out for anniversaries, retrospectives and reverent documentaries — they were something far stranger and more volatile. This early film, a stitched‑together anthology of their best sketches, captures them in their anarchic prime: gleefully dismantling authority, respectability and the very idea that comedy should obey the rules of narrative, logic or even basic continuity.

What’s striking, watching it now, is how alive it still feels. The humour doesn’t build; it detonates. Sketches begin in one register and end in another entirely. Punchlines are abandoned mid‑stride. Characters wander in from other sketches as if lost. It’s comedy as controlled demolition, performed by a troupe who understood that the quickest way to expose the absurdity of British life was simply to tilt it a few degrees and let the madness spill out.

The unpredictability is the point. By refusing normal structures — setups, payoffs, tidy resolutions — the Pythons created a form that mirrored the chaos they were mocking. Bureaucracy, class, patriotism, masculinity, the BBC itself: everything is fair game, and everything collapses under the weight of its own pomposity.

Half a century on, the film remains a reminder of how radical they once were. Before the merchandise, the nostalgia and the canonisation, there was this: a group of very clever people breaking comedy open just to see what new shapes it could make.

Streaming Choice

Untold: Liverpool’s Miracle of Istanbul – Available from Tuesday 19th May on Netflix

The 2005 Champions League final has been replayed so often it risks feeling like folklore rather than fact — a story polished by repetition, its edges smoothed by nostalgia. What this Untold documentary does is return to the rawness of the night itself, stripping away the myth to reveal the sheer improbability of what Liverpool achieved in Istanbul. It treats the match not as a highlight reel but as a collective emotional event: a moment when belief, identity and sheer stubborn refusal to accept defeat collided in a way that still feels faintly unreal.

The film understands that football at this level is never just football. It’s memory, inheritance, a kind of secular faith. The first half is presented almost as a study in despair — 3–0 down to an AC Milan side of almost absurd quality, the gulf between the teams looking unbridgeable. And then comes the shift: the surge of noise, the recalibration of hope, the sense that something irrational and magnificent is beginning to stir. The documentary captures that momentum with real care, showing how a team can be transformed not just tactically but spiritually.

What makes it compelling is the way it listens to the people who lived it — players, supporters, commentators — each carrying their own version of the night. For some, it’s a story of resilience; for others, of destiny; for many, a reminder of why football matters at all. The match becomes a vessel for something larger: the idea that identity is shaped not only by triumph but by the moments when triumph seemed impossible.

Nearly twenty years on, the Miracle of Istanbul remains one of sport’s great narrative ruptures — a night when logic failed and belief took over. This documentary honours that strangeness. It shows how a single match can become a communal memory, retold and re‑felt across generations, and why Liverpool supporters still speak of it with a kind of reverent disbelief.

Inspector Ricciardi – Series 3 available from Friday 22nd May on Channel 4 Streaming

One of television’s most atmospheric European crime dramas returns with more melancholy, mystery and political unease in 1930s Naples.

Inside Thailand’s British Drug Gangs: Untold – Available from Tuesday 19th May on Channel 4 Streaming

This unsettling documentary examines British criminal networks operating within Thailand’s tourist economy.

Kylie – All three episodes available from Wednesday on Netflix

A surprisingly reflective documentary series exploring Kylie Minogue’s career, resilience and ability to survive shifting pop landscapes.

I Saw the TV Glow – Available now on Netflix

Jane Schoenbrun’s haunting cult film explores identity, media obsession and emotional alienation through the lens of late-night television and adolescent loneliness.

Rivals – Season 2 available now on Disney+ UK

Jilly Cooper’s gloriously excessive world of media rivalry, sex and ambition returns with even more ego, manipulation and silk-shirted chaos.

Radio Picks

60 Years of Hurt – Radio 4, Saturday 10am

A sharply observed, six‑part excavation of England’s longest‑running national complex. Presented by David Baddiel, the series traces how decades of footballing disappointment — the near‑misses, the penalty traumas, the tournaments that slipped away — have seeped into the country’s sense of itself. What begins as sporting failure becomes cultural inheritance.

Across the six weeks, Baddiel brings in voices who’ve lived it from the inside and the outside: Dear England playwright James Graham, and former England stalwarts Stuart Pearce and David Seaman, among others. Their perspectives give the programme its mix of humour, melancholy and quiet revelation — a portrait of modern Britain told through the ache of what might have been.

Funny, rueful, and unexpectedly tender about the stories a nation builds around its own heartbreak.

Tarot and the Art of Creativity – Radio 4, Sunday 7.15pm

This thoughtful feature explores the relationship between tarot, symbolism and artistic inspiration. Rather than treating tarot as mere superstition, the programme examines it as metaphor, storytelling and creative provocation.

In an increasingly data-driven culture, there is something quietly refreshing about a programme willing to explore ambiguity and imagination.

Podcast Picks

The Story of Money with Gillian Tett and Robin Wigglesworth

What Gillian Tett and Robin Wigglesworth do so well in The Story of Money is peel back the surface of finance — the headlines, the market jitters, the jargon — and reveal the hidden architecture underneath. They speak with the clarity of people who have spent years watching how money actually behaves in the real world: not as an abstract economic force, but as a system of beliefs, habits, hierarchies and power structures that shape almost every aspect of modern life.

There’s a conversational ease to the way they explain things. You never feel lectured; you feel invited in. Tett draws on her anthropological instincts, showing how financial systems evolve like cultures, with rituals, taboos and unspoken rules. Wigglesworth brings the long view — the sweep of history, the way ideas about value and risk mutate across centuries. Together they make the complex feel graspable without ever flattening it.

What emerges is a portrait of money as something far stranger and more human than we usually admit. It’s a story of trust and illusion, of institutions built on collective belief, of crises that expose the fragility of systems we assume are solid. And in their hands, these ideas become not just intellectually engaging but quietly revealing about how power operates today — who benefits, who carries the risk, and who gets written out of the narrative.

It’s the kind of programme that leaves you seeing the world differently: the headlines, the markets, the political arguments, even the way we talk about debt and value. Tett and Wigglesworth don’t just explain finance; they illuminate the psychology and politics that sit beneath it, reminding you that money is never just money. It’s a story we’re all living inside, whether we realise it or not.

Gangster Presents: The Story of Ronnie Biggs

A fascinating exploration of Ronnie Biggs, celebrity criminality and Britain’s complicated fascination with outlaw mythology.

Everyday Positivity with Kate Cocker

Everyday Positivity with Kate Cocker

Everyday Positivity has become one of those rare fixtures in my day — a small, steadying voice that slips into the morning and quietly resets the emotional weather. I listen to Kate Cocker every single day, and over time I’ve realised how much I’ve absorbed from the little nuggets she drops almost casually, as if she’s chatting across a kitchen table rather than broadcasting to thousands.

What makes her so effective is the tone: calm, conversational, never preachy. She doesn’t arrive with grand theories or the glossy language of self‑help. Instead, she offers practical reflections on anxiety, stress and the low‑level emotional static that modern life generates. Her Pillars of Positivity have become a kind of internal toolkit — simple, repeatable habits that help you reorient yourself when the day starts to tilt. And her thoughts on gratitude are delivered with such gentle clarity that they feel less like advice and more like reminders of things you already knew but had somehow misplaced.

There’s something disarmingly human about the way she speaks. She acknowledges the messiness of real life — the wobbling confidence, the overthinking, the days when you feel slightly out of step with yourself — and then offers a way to navigate it without judgement. It’s not therapy, not philosophy, not performance. It’s companionship with good advice.

What the podcast ultimately provides is a rhythm: a moment of pause, a breath, a recalibration. And in a world that rarely grants us any of those, Kate Cocker’s voice becomes a small act of daily repair — a reminder that steadiness can be practised, and that positivity, when done properly, is less about cheerfulness than about choosing how to meet the day.

Promotional image for 'The White Rooms' by TP Bragg featuring a blurred background and text overlay.

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