Posts Tagged TV guide

Culture Vulture 29 August–4 September 2026

There’s a distinctly end-of-summer feel to this week’s Culture Vulture, but the schedules are far from winding down. In fact, there’s a very strong run of films across the week, some returning television favourites and a streaming slate which ranges from period crime to superheroes and prestige drama.

Three things stand out for me. First, BBC Two gives us the complete Godfather trilogy across Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. Whatever your view of the third film, that is still quite a proposition.

Secondly, there’s an excellent musical thread running through the weekend, from Wham! and the Beach Boys to the Mamas and the Papas, not forgetting a Proms evening devoted to James Bond. And finally, Gogglebox returns for its 28th series on Friday. There are programmes which reinvent television and programmes which simply understand television. Gogglebox has always belonged rather comfortably in the second category.

Here’s what caught my eye.

Saturday 29 August

6.10pm, PBS America — Athens: Birthplace of Democracy

A look back to the city and political culture which gave the Western world one of its most enduring — if frequently contested — ideas.

7.30pm, BBC Two — BBC Proms: Daniel Bartholomew-Poyser Has a Licence to Thrill

Daniel Bartholomew-Poyser and the BBC Concert Orchestra turn their attention to the music of James Bond. Bond themes have always been unusually ambitious bits of popular music in their own right, so there is plenty here for an orchestra to get its teeth into. Catch up via BBC iPlayer.

9pm, BBC Four — Kabul

Drama set against the chaos surrounding the fall of Kabul in August 2021. The full series is available on BBC iPlayer.

9pm, Sky Arts — Chaplin (1992)

Attenborough’s sweeping biopic isn’t shy about its own grandeur, and Robert Downey Jr meets that scale with a performance that’s all quicksilver brilliance and bruised vulnerability. He doesn’t impersonate Chaplin so much as inhabit him — the physical precision, the darting intelligence, the melancholy that sits just behind the eyes. It’s a turn that reminds you how astonishingly gifted Downey was even before his later reinventions.

The film itself is a handsome, old‑school studio epic: big sets, big emotions, big narrative leaps. Attenborough charts Chaplin’s rise from poverty to global fame with a kind of museum‑quality reverence, but he’s at his best when he lets the cracks show — the political battles, the personal failings, the way genius and ego grind against each other. The supporting cast is a parade of familiar faces, each dropping in to sketch a moment in Chaplin’s turbulent life, but it’s Downey who keeps the whole thing alive, electric, and strangely intimate.

Not a perfect film, but a fascinating one — and worth revisiting for a performance that still feels like lightning in a bottle.

9pm — Wham! 10 Days in China

A look at Wham!’s groundbreaking 1985 visit to China, when George Michael and Andrew Ridgeley became the first major Western pop act to tour the country.

10.25pm, BBC Two — Wham! at the BBC

More George and Andrew, this time through the BBC archives.

10.30pm, Channel 5 — Kinky Boots (2005)

A film that knows exactly what it’s doing and does it with a grin. Kinky Boots takes the very real anxieties of a failing Northampton shoe factory and spins them into a buoyant, big‑hearted fable about reinvention. The premise — pivoting from sturdy brogues to flamboyant, high‑heeled fetish boots — is inherently comic, but the charm lies in how sincerely it treats the people involved.

Joel Edgerton gives the factory’s reluctant heir a nicely rumpled decency, but it’s Chiwetel Ejiofor who detonates the film’s energy. His Lola is a force of nature: glamorous, sharp, wounded, and utterly magnetic. Every scene he’s in lifts the film from gentle workplace comedy into something with real emotional voltage. The dynamic between Lola and the factory lads — suspicion giving way to curiosity, then respect — is handled with a light touch that never tips into sermonising.

It’s a story about survival, pride, and the unexpected places solidarity can bloom. Warm, funny, and quietly radical in its insistence that tradition and transformation don’t have to be enemies. A crowd‑pleaser with a bit of steel in its spine.

1.35am, BBC Two — Compartment No. 6 (2021)

A film that moves in small, almost imperceptible shifts — the kind that creep up on you and suddenly feel enormous. Compartment No. 6 traps two strangers in the narrow, rattling purgatory of a long train ride: a Finnish archaeology student fleeing a complicated relationship, and a Russian miner whose bluntness initially feels like a personal attack. It begins in discomfort — the kind of social claustrophobia anyone who’s ever been stuck in the wrong carriage at the wrong time will recognise.

What follows is beautifully observed, never hurried. Director Juho Kuosmanen has a gift for noticing the tiny gestures that reveal people: a half‑smile, a defensive shrug, the way irritation softens into curiosity. The film’s great strength is its refusal to force intimacy; instead, it lets connection emerge in the gaps between language, in shared cigarettes, in the bleak humour of bad weather and worse circumstances.

The Arctic Circle looms like a metaphor — cold, distant, unreachable — yet the journey towards it becomes unexpectedly warm. By the time the train judders into its final stops, the film has quietly built something tender out of loneliness, miscommunication and the strange, fragile alliances that form when two people have nowhere else to go.

Sunday 30 August

5.25pm, Sky Arts — The Beach Boys: Endless Harmony

The Beach Boys story told through archive footage, music and the complicated relationships behind all those immaculate harmonies.

5.25pm, BBC Two — The Italian Job (1969)

A film so woven into British pop culture that it barely needs announcing — but it deserves celebrating. The Italian Job remains the purest expression of late‑60s swagger: Michael Caine at his most effortlessly charismatic, a caper built on cheek and precision, and a vision of Britain that believed ingenuity could outshine brute force.

Everything about it is engineered for delight. The Minis — red, white and blue — dart through Turin with balletic confidence, turning the city into a playground of tunnels, rooftops and improbable escape routes. Quincy Jones’ score snaps and struts. The supporting cast, from Noël Coward’s magnificently patrician Mr Bridger to Benny Hill’s chaotic cameo, adds texture to the film’s comic‑criminal ecosystem.

And then there’s that ending. The bus, the cliff, the gold, the unresolved teeter that has fuelled half a century of debate. It’s the perfect final note: audacious, funny, and refusing to tidy itself away. A caper that knows the value of leaving you suspended — grinning, guessing, and wanting just a little more.

6.20pm, ITV4 — Waterloo (1970)

Bondarchuk’s thunderous epic of Napoleon’s last stand still has the power to astonish. Before computers made massed battles a matter of software, this was done the hard way: tens of thousands of real soldiers manoeuvred across vast fields, cavalry charges thundering through smoke, and artillery barrages staged with unnerving force.

Rod Steiger gives a brooding, volatile Napoleon; Christopher Plummer’s Wellington is all cool calculation. But the real star is the scale — the sheer logistical madness of recreating Waterloo with such detail and weight. It’s old‑school spectacle, the kind that reminds you what cinema can do when ambition meets an army.

7pm, BBC One — Hamza: African Birds of Prey

Hamza Yassin turns his attention to Africa’s magnificent birds of prey. Catch up via BBC iPlayer.

7.40pm, Sky Arts — California Dreaming: The Songs of the Mamas and the Papas

The music and story of one of the defining vocal groups of the 1960s.

9pm, Film4 — A Few Good Men (1992)

Cruise brings the drive; Nicholson brings the detonation. Rob Reiner’s military courtroom drama is sharply written and tightly paced, but it’s Nicholson who tilts the whole thing on its axis. As Colonel Jessup, he strides in late, occupies the film for barely a handful of scenes, and still manages to dominate it through sheer force of personality.

Cruise’s young Navy lawyer pushes, probes and tries to stay upright under the weight of the institution he’s challenging, but the film’s electricity comes from the collision between the two men — idealism meeting absolute authority. By the time Nicholson delivers his famous tirade, the verdict is already in: he steals the picture cleanly, confidently, and without breaking a sweat.

9pm, BBC One — Vigil

The thriller returns to the schedules, with the full series available on BBC iPlayer.

9pm, ITV1 — Trigger Point

More bomb disposal tension, with the full series available on ITVX.

10pm, BBC Two — The Godfather (1972)

Coppola’s first chapter in the Corleone saga remains one of cinema’s great acts of world‑building: shadowed rooms, whispered loyalties, and violence delivered with ritualistic calm. Brando’s Vito is the film’s centre of gravity, a weary patriarch whose authority seems to bend the air around him.

But it’s Pacino who quietly reshapes the story. His Michael begins as the outsider — the son who insists he’s not part of the family business — and Pacino plays those early scenes with a stillness that barely registers as ambition. Across three hours, that stillness hardens. Every decision, every silence, every glance nudges him further into the darkness.

By the time he closes the door in the final shot, the transformation is complete: a man who thought he could stand apart has become the very thing he feared. It’s one of the most controlled, chilling performances ever put on film.

11pm, Yesterday — Sir Alex Ferguson: Never Give In (2021)

A portrait of Ferguson that refuses to settle for the familiar mythology. Yes, the football is there — the trophies, the authority, the ferocious competitive instinct — but the documentary’s real interest lies elsewhere. It looks at the man after the noise has faded: his childhood, his marriage, the rhythms of family life, and the frightening vulnerability of his 2018 brain haemorrhage.

What emerges is a study in memory and mortality. Ferguson reflects on the past not as a sequence of victories but as a series of turning points, losses, recoveries, and the people who shaped him. The film’s quietness is its strength. It shows how someone defined by control confronts the one thing he cannot command: time.

Bank Holiday Monday 31 August

7pm, Sky Arts — Six Minutes to Midnight (2019)

A quietly tense pre‑war thriller with a premise that feels almost too strange to be true: an English finishing school on the Sussex coast where the daughters of high‑ranking Nazi officials are being groomed into perfect ambassadors for the Reich. Eddie Izzard plays a teacher who stumbles into a web of espionage, suspicion and political brinkmanship as Europe edges towards catastrophe.

The film mixes seaside gentility with gathering storm clouds — polite manners, crisp uniforms and the unsettling sense that something poisonous is being cultivated behind closed doors. It’s a story about loyalty, identity and the danger of looking away just when history is about to turn.

8pm, BBC One — The Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo

One of Edinburgh’s great annual spectacles, with massed bands, military precision and the Castle providing a backdrop television could scarcely improve upon.

10.30pm, BBC Two — The Godfather Part II (1974)

The rare sequel that doesn’t just match its predecessor but deepens it. Coppola builds a vast, mournful tapestry of power, family and the corrosive cost of ambition, cutting between two men at two moments in American history: Michael consolidating his empire in the 1950s, and young Vito climbing from poverty to influence half a century earlier.

Pacino’s performance is glacial, terrifying in its restraint — a man hollowing himself out in the name of control. De Niro, meanwhile, gives Vito warmth and quiet resolve, showing how the foundations of the Corleone dynasty were laid with community, necessity and a kind of rough‑edged honour.

The contrast is devastating. One rises to protect his family; the other destroys his in the name of protecting it.

11pm, BBC One — Four Weddings and a Funeral (1994)

The film that turned Richard Curtis’s brand of romantic comedy into a global export. Hugh Grant’s stammering charm was already familiar, but here it crystallised into something irresistible: the diffident Englishman who can’t quite get out of his own way.

What’s easy to forget is just how big a cultural moment this was. A modestly budgeted British film that became an international phenomenon, reshaping the genre for a decade and launching a wave of imitators. Its mix of sharp wit, emotional honesty and unabashed sentiment still works because it never sneers at its characters — it lets them be awkward, hopeful, foolish and occasionally profound.

11.30pm, Film4 — Carol (2015)

Todd Haynes crafts this with exquisite control — every glance, every pause, every shift in light doing as much storytelling as the dialogue. Cate Blanchett’s Carol is poised, elegant, and quietly aching; Rooney Mara’s Therese is all tentative curiosity, drawn into a relationship that feels both impossible and inevitable.

The film moves like a piece of chamber music: restrained, precise, and emotionally devastating in its quietest moments. Haynes lets the 1950s setting press in from all sides — the social constraints, the unspoken rules — while never losing sight of the tenderness at the centre.

2.50am, Channel 4 — Sick of Myself (2022)

A pitch‑black Norwegian comedy that treats narcissism like a competitive sport. The film follows a young woman so desperate to stay at the centre of everyone’s attention that she escalates her behaviour from petty manipulation to outright self‑harm, all in the name of sympathy, notoriety and social currency.

It’s viciously funny and deeply uncomfortable — a satire of performative culture where every gesture is a bid for relevance and every relationship becomes collateral damage. The further she pushes things, the more horrifying and absurd it becomes, until you’re laughing and wincing in the same breath.

A brutally sharp look at the hunger to be seen, and the chaos that follows when that hunger becomes the whole personality.

Tuesday 1 September

3.10pm, Film4 — Send Me No Flowers (1964)

One of the most purely enjoyable Day–Hudson comedies, built on a premise so daft it becomes irresistible. Rock Hudson’s hypochondriac is convinced he’s dying, and in a fit of misguided gallantry decides the best thing he can do for Doris Day’s devoted wife is to line up her next husband.

What follows is a bright, breezy spiral of misunderstandings, jealousies and suburban chaos, powered by the duo’s effortless chemistry and a script that knows exactly how to let them sparkle. It’s feather‑light, colourful and cheerfully silly — the kind of comedy that feels like opening a window on a sunnier world.

5.15pm, Film4 — Spartacus (1960)

Kubrick’s Roman epic is colossal in every sense, but its most radical force sits behind the camera. Spartacus is the film that helped break the Hollywood blacklist: Kirk Douglas insisted that Dalton Trumbo — one of the “Hollywood Ten,” jailed and exiled from the industry for refusing to name names during the McCarthy anti‑Communist purges — be credited under his own name. It was an act of defiance that changed careers and cracked open one of the ugliest chapters in American film history.

On screen, the scale is staggering. Douglas’s Spartacus leads a slave revolt that feels genuinely seismic, and Laurence Olivier presides over Rome with icy patrician menace. Kubrick marshals armies, landscapes and political intrigue with a precision that still impresses, but the film’s heartbeat is its politics — both the rebellion it depicts and the one it quietly enacted in Hollywood.

A landmark of spectacle and a landmark of resistance.

9pm, BBC Three — Scamanda

A four-part documentary telling the extraordinary story of Amanda Riley, whose fraudulent cancer story deceived thousands.

11pm, BBC Four — I Am Martin Parr

A portrait of one of Britain’s most distinctive photographers. Available on BBC iPlayer.

11.05pm, BBC Two — The Godfather Part III (1990)

The trilogy’s closing chapter has lived in the shadow of its predecessors for decades, but taken on its own terms it’s a sombre, compelling epilogue. Coppola shifts the tone from operatic violence to something more reflective: a story about age, regret and the impossibility of outrunning one’s past.

Pacino’s Michael is older, wearier, and haunted by the choices that built his empire. The performance is fascinating — the coiled intensity is still there, but now it’s tempered by guilt and a longing for legitimacy that he can never quite grasp. Andy García brings volatile energy as Vincent, the heir apparent, while the film’s Vatican‑entangled plot adds a layer of moral rot that feels entirely appropriate for Michael’s final act.

It may not reach the heights of the first two films, but there is real power in watching a man who once controlled everything realise that the bill for his sins has finally come due.

11.45pm, Film4 — Journeyman (2017)

Paddy Considine’s second feature is a quietly devastating piece of work — intimate, unshowy and emotionally exact. He writes, directs and stars as Matty Burton, a middleweight boxer whose life is shattered by a catastrophic brain injury sustained during a title defence. What begins as a familiar sports narrative turns into something far more fragile: a study of identity, recovery and the terrifying uncertainty of a mind that no longer behaves as it once did.

Considine’s performance is remarkable in its vulnerability, and Jodie Whittaker matches him beat for beat as a partner trying to hold together a life that has suddenly come apart. The film never tips into melodrama; it stays close to the small, painful details of rehabilitation — the confusion, the anger, the flickers of hope.

A moving, humane drama about rebuilding from the inside out.

.1.35am, Film4 — Pixie (2020)

A darkly comic Irish caper that plays everything with a wink and a threat. Olivia Cooke is terrific as Pixie, a young woman whose charm is matched only by her talent for trouble. After a heist goes sideways, she heads off across rural Ireland with two hapless accomplices, a bag of stolen drugs and a growing list of very dangerous people trying to catch up.

The tone is gleefully off‑kilter — gun‑toting priests, eccentric gangsters, sharp dialogue and a sense that every decision is making things worse in a slightly hilarious way. Cooke anchors it all with a performance that’s sly, unpredictable and enormous fun. A lively late‑night watch with a streak of mischief running right through it.

Wednesday 2 September

10.55pm, Legend — The Fighter (2010)

A tough, lived‑in boxing drama that works because it’s really about the people orbiting the ring rather than the punches thrown inside it. Mark Wahlberg plays Micky Ward with understated grit, but the film’s charge comes from Christian Bale as Dicky Eklund — a former fighter, now a chaotic, crack‑addicted mentor whose glory days have curdled into delusion.

Bale doesn’t just play Dicky; he disappears into him. The jittery energy, the compulsive charm, the self‑sabotage — it’s all there, and it gives the film a rawness that most sports biopics never touch. Amy Adams adds steel as Charlene, the woman trying to pull Micky out of the gravitational pull of his family, while David O. Russell keeps the whole thing moving with bruising momentum.

A story about loyalty, damage and the fight to break free, anchored by one of Bale’s most ferociously committed performances.

Thursday 3 September

12.55pm, Legend — The Assassination Bureau (1969)

A wonderfully odd slice of Edwardian mischief, pitched somewhere between black comedy, adventure caper and social satire. Oliver Reed plays Ivan Dragomiloff, the suavely amoral head of a professional organisation devoted to murder-for-hire — a gentlemanly league of assassins who treat killing as a matter of honour, etiquette and contractual obligation.

Diana Rigg, sharp as ever, enters the story as a journalist determined to expose the Bureau’s existence. Her plan? Commission them to kill their own leader. What follows is a playful chase across Europe, full of elaborate assassination attempts, period charm and a tone that winks at the audience without ever tipping into outright farce.

It’s eccentric, stylish and very much its own thing — a late‑60s curiosity powered by Reed’s swagger and Rigg’s impeccable wit.

2.35pm, Talking Pictures TV — The Durant Affair (1962)

A compact, no‑nonsense British crime drama, the sort of film Talking Pictures excels at rescuing from obscurity. The Durant Affair sits firmly in that fascinating corner of early‑60s British cinema where modest budgets, tight scripts and character actors doing solid work combine into something unexpectedly engaging.

It’s not a headline title, and that’s precisely the appeal. These lesser‑screened crime pictures offer a snapshot of a filmmaking culture that was grittier, more workmanlike and often more inventive than the prestige productions of the era. If you enjoy digging into the hidden shelves of British film history, this is exactly the kind of curio that rewards the effort.

9pm, GREAT! TV — Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949)

One of the crown jewels of Ealing comedy: elegant, wicked and delivered with a straight face sharp enough to cut glass. Dennis Price is superb as Louis Mazzini, the impeccably polite young man who decides that a handful of inconvenient relatives stand between him and a dukedom — a problem he approaches with calm, murderous efficiency.

Alec Guinness’s tour‑de‑force turn is the film’s great delight: he plays almost the entire D’Ascoyne family, from fussy parsons to pompous admirals to suffragette firebrands, each performance perfectly judged and slyly exaggerated without ever breaking the film’s refined tone.

It’s a comedy of manners wrapped around a string of killings, delivered with such charm and precision that its darkness feels positively civilised. A masterpiece of dry British wit.

9pm, BBC Two — A House Through Time

David Olusoga continues his exploration of the lives hidden within the history of a single house. The full series is available on BBC iPlayer.

12.05am, BBC Two — Respect (2021)

Jennifer Hudson doesn’t just play Aretha Franklin — she channels her. The film follows Franklin’s rise from a prodigiously gifted church singer to the undisputed Queen of Soul, tracing the battles she fought both publicly and privately to claim her voice, her artistry and her autonomy.

Hudson’s performance is the anchor: vocally astonishing, emotionally grounded, and delivered with a reverence that never slips into imitation. The film moves through the key chapters — the early gospel years, the breakthrough hits, the personal struggles, the political awakening — with a warmth that honours Franklin’s legacy even when confronting its darker corners.

It’s a conventional music biopic in structure, but the power of the story and the sheer force of Hudson’s presence make it resonate. A celebration of a singular talent and the long, hard road she walked to become herself.

Friday 4 September

9pm, ITV2 — The Dark Knight (2008)

Christopher Nolan’s Batman film remains a defining moment in modern superhero cinema — muscular, morally tangled and executed with a seriousness that reshaped what the genre could be. But its gravitational centre is, of course, Heath Ledger’s Joker, a performance so ferociously alive it still feels dangerous.

Ledger’s Joker isn’t a villain with a plan; he’s an agent of rupture. Everything about him — the smeared makeup, the hunched posture, the voice that slides between mock‑polite and feral — suggests someone who has studied human behaviour purely to learn how best to unsettle it. He isn’t interested in money or power; he wants to expose the fragility of order, to prove that civilisation is only ever one bad day away from collapse.

The brilliance of the performance is its unpredictability. Ledger plays him as a man who delights in rewriting the rules mid‑sentence, whose jokes land like threats and whose threats land like philosophy. Every scene tightens because you genuinely don’t know what he’ll do next. It’s not just a great comic‑book villain; it’s one of the great screen performances of the century.

Around him, Christian Bale’s Batman and Aaron Eckhart’s Harvey Dent form the film’s moral spine, but Ledger is the spark that turns the whole thing into a battle for the soul of Gotham. A landmark — and a reminder of how one extraordinary performance can tilt an entire film into legend.

9pm, Legend — Once Upon a Time in America (1984)

Sergio Leone’s final film is a vast, mournful gangster epic — less interested in crime than in the long shadows it casts over a life. Robert De Niro’s Noodles drifts through the story like a man permanently out of time, haunted by friendships broken, betrayals committed and memories that refuse to settle into anything stable.

Leone tells the tale at an unhurried, almost dreamlike pace. Scenes unfold with the weight of recollection rather than the urgency of plot: childhood in the Jewish ghettos of New York, the rise into organised crime, the fractures that tear the group apart, and the decades‑later reckoning that may or may not be real. The film’s structure — looping between eras, blurring the line between what happened and what Noodles believes happened — gives it a melancholy that’s closer to elegy than thriller.

De Niro is superb, playing Noodles as a man defined by regret, while James Woods brings electric volatility as Max, the friend whose ambition becomes a kind of curse. Ennio Morricone’s score does the rest, bathing the film in sorrow and nostalgia.

A sprawling, hypnotic masterpiece — a gangster film that moves at the pace of memory, and hits with the force of everything time refuses to heal.

9pm, Channel 4 — Gogglebox

It’s back for its 28th series. The format remains ridiculously simple — people watching television while we watch them — but when the casting works, so does the programme. Catch up via Channel 4 streaming.

9.20pm, Talking Pictures TV — Dr Jekyll and Sister Hyde (1971)

One of Hammer’s strangest and most intriguing late‑period horrors — a gender‑swapping twist on Robert Louis Stevenson that lets the studio lean into both gothic melodrama and something far more subversive. Ralph Bates plays Dr Jekyll as a driven, increasingly unhinged scientist whose experiments in extending human life lead him to create a female alter ego: Sister Hyde, played with icy poise by Martine Beswick.

The transformation conceit gives Hammer room to explore identity, repression and desire in a way that feels unusually bold for the era. Sister Hyde isn’t just a murderous counterpart; she’s a manifestation of everything Jekyll fears and covets, a figure who moves through Victorian London with a confidence and sensuality that destabilises him completely.

It’s lurid, atmospheric and knowingly provocative — a film that takes a familiar story and twists it into something slyly transgressive. One of Hammer’s more unusual delights.

11.05pm, BBC Two — Harvest (2024)

A quietly gripping drama, Harvest works in the space between rural stillness and creeping unease. Set in a farming community where tradition, hardship and unspoken tensions shape every relationship, the film follows a family facing a season that threatens to break them — financially, emotionally and morally.

What makes it compelling is its restraint. The drama unfolds in small, telling moments: the weight of responsibility passed between generations, the strain of keeping a livelihood alive, the way isolation can magnify every fear. The performances are grounded and naturalistic, giving the film a lived‑in authenticity that makes its darker turns hit harder.

It’s a thoughtful, atmospheric piece — a modern British drama that finds its power not in big plot swings but in the quiet, accumulating pressure of a life tied to the land. A strong, understated choice to round off the week.

Streaming

Netflix

Monster’s Ball — available now

A stark, emotionally bruising drama that moves with a quiet, deliberate intensity. Set against the backdrop of America’s deep racial and social fractures, the film follows two people whose lives have been shaped by grief, anger and generational damage, and who find themselves drawn together in circumstances that should make connection impossible.

What gives the film its power is the restraint: the performances are raw without ever tipping into melodrama, and the story unfolds in small, painful increments. It’s a film about the weight people carry, the ways they fail each other, and the fragile possibility of redemption. Hard‑hitting, but worth the emotional toll.

H Is for Hawk — available now

This adaptation of Helen Macdonald’s acclaimed memoir captures the strange, intimate process of training a goshawk while navigating overwhelming grief. It’s part nature study, part psychological portrait, and part meditation on how humans seek meaning in the wild when their own lives feel unmanageable.

The film leans into the book’s reflective tone, lingering on landscape, silence and the uneasy bond between handler and bird. It’s gentle but piercing, a story about control, surrender and the ways we try to rebuild ourselves through ritual and obsession. A beautifully made piece of contemplative nonfiction.

The Gentlemen — Season 2, from Thursday 3 September

Guy Ritchie’s criminal world returns for a second series, and it’s as swaggering, chaotic and sharply dressed as ever. The new run expands the turf wars, double‑crosses and entrepreneurial villainy that defined the first season, giving the ensemble more room to stretch into their particular flavours of misbehaviour.

There’s a confidence to the storytelling now: the humour is darker, the schemes more elaborate, and the tone sits comfortably between crime thriller and high‑end mischief. If you enjoyed the first season’s mix of violence, charm and sheer audacity, Season 2 doubles down on all of it.

Channel 4 Streaming / Walter Presents

Cold Courage — all episodes from Tuesday 1 September

A tense, politically charged thriller that follows two women drawn into a shadowy organisation dedicated to exposing corruption. The series moves between London’s media world, far‑right extremism and the murky spaces where influence and intimidation overlap, giving it a contemporary edge that feels uncomfortably close to reality.

What stands out is the character work: both leads are damaged, determined and navigating trauma while trying to dismantle something far bigger than themselves. It’s stylish, tightly plotted and full of the kind of moral ambiguity Walter Presents specialises in.

Devil’s Throat: The Demon’s Fall

A Bulgarian thriller steeped in folklore, superstition and the darker corners of rural life. The series blends procedural investigation with mythic undertones, creating an atmosphere where every discovery feels like it might be pointing toward something older and more unsettling than simple criminality.

The pacing is deliberate, the visuals striking, and the tension builds from the clash between modern policing and ancient belief. It’s one of those shows that creeps under the skin — not loud, but quietly unnerving.

Paramount+

Humans — all episodes from Thursday 3 September

A return to one of the most thoughtful sci‑fi dramas of recent years. Humans explores artificial intelligence not through spectacle but through domestic life, asking what happens when synthetic beings become indistinguishable from the people they serve.

The new availability of all episodes gives viewers the chance to appreciate the show’s slow‑burn evolution: from questions of labour and autonomy to full‑blown debates about consciousness, rights and revolution. It’s smart, grounded and emotionally resonant — sci‑fi with something real to say.

Sweden: Demons Fall — Series 2, from Friday 4 September

The second series deepens the supernatural mystery at the heart of this Swedish thriller. What began as a story of strange occurrences in a remote community now expands into a broader exploration of belief, fear and the legacies families try to outrun.

Series 2 is moodier, more ambitious and visually striking, with a stronger sense of dread threading through each episode. It’s Nordic noir with a supernatural twist — cold, atmospheric and compelling.

Prime Video

Mother Mary — available now

A bold, stylised drama that plays with the idea of celebrity myth‑making. The film follows a pop icon whose life becomes the subject of a sprawling biographical project, blurring the lines between truth, performance and the narratives artists build around themselves.

It’s visually lush and musically driven, with a central performance that embraces both the glamour and the vulnerability of fame. The film asks what it means to be seen, and what gets lost when a person becomes a symbol. Ambitious, intriguing and full of texture.

Disney+

The Mandalorian and Grogu — from Wednesday 2 September

The Star Wars universe heads back to familiar territory with Din Djarin and Grogu, and the new series leans into everything that made their partnership irresistible: stoic warrior energy, found‑family warmth and a galaxy full of danger, politics and creatures with questionable intentions.

Expect a broader canvas this time — bigger stakes, deeper lore and a sense that the pair are being drawn into events far beyond bounty hunting. It’s still recognisably The Mandalorian, but with the scale and emotional weight turned up. A welcome return for two of modern Star Wars’ most beloved characters.

Radio

Sunday 30 August

7.15pm, BBC Radio 4 — Bouncing Off the Walls: A Prison Soundscape

A striking piece of auditory documentary-making, this soundscape builds its world not through interviews or narration but through the textures of prison life itself. The clatter of doors, the echo of corridors, the hum of communal spaces — all of it arranged to give listeners a sense of the rhythms and pressures of an environment defined by confinement.

It’s an atmospheric listen, one that asks you to sit inside the sonic architecture of incarceration and consider what it reveals. Without commentary, the programme becomes a kind of immersive portrait: unsettling in places, unexpectedly human in others, and quietly powerful in the way it lets sound do the storytelling.

Monday 31 August

6pm, Boom Rock — The Stiff Records Story

A lively, affectionate dive into one of Britain’s most gloriously unruly independent labels. Stiff Records was never just a roster — it was an attitude, a gleefully anarchic challenge to the music industry’s self-importance. The programme traces the label’s rise through its defining artists, from Ian Dury’s swagger to Elvis Costello’s sharp intelligence and Madness’s irresistible energy.

What emerges is a portrait of a label that prized personality, risk and sheer cheek. The documentary captures the era’s DIY spirit and the sense that Stiff’s artists were rewriting the rules as they went. A treat for anyone who loves the scruffier, more inventive corners of British music history. Repeated Thursday at 9pm.

Tuesday 1 September

8.05am, 3.05pm and 10.05pm, BBC World Service — People Fixing the World

This edition tackles sepsis — a condition where minutes matter and early diagnosis can be the difference between life and death. The programme looks at innovators trying to speed up detection, from rapid-testing technologies to new approaches in frontline healthcare that aim to catch symptoms before they escalate.

It’s a clear-eyed, hopeful piece of reporting, focused on practical solutions rather than alarm. By spotlighting people working to close the gap between onset and treatment, the episode shows how small changes in process and technology could save thousands of lives worldwide.

Wednesday 2 September

10am, 4pm and midnight, BBC Radio 4 Extra — Mercury

Three chances across the day to catch this imaginative audio drama, which blends mystery, science and a touch of the uncanny. Mercury unfolds with a slow, deliberate pull, drawing listeners into a story where the boundaries between explanation and intuition blur.

It’s the kind of drama that rewards close listening: layered sound design, thoughtful pacing and a narrative that reveals itself piece by piece. Atmospheric, intriguing and well worth dipping into at whichever time suits.

Friday 4 September

8.30pm, BBC World Service — CrowdScience

This week’s episode takes a gleeful dive into the psychology of roller coasters — why some people crave the stomach-dropping, high-speed chaos of a ride while others would rather stay firmly on the ground. The programme explores the science of thrill-seeking, from brain chemistry to personality traits, and how our bodies interpret fear when we know we’re safe.

It’s an entertaining blend of neuroscience and amusement-park nostalgia, with plenty of insight into what drives human appetite for controlled danger. A fun, thoughtful listen that might even explain why you love — or loathe — being hurled around at improbable speeds.

That’s it for this week. Plenty of crime, music, history and heavyweight cinema, with enough lighter material scattered around to stop the whole thing becoming oppressive. If I were choosing just three, I’d make time for The Godfather Part IIKind Hearts and Coronets and the James Bond Prom — three very different demonstrations of how much pleasure there is to be had when style and substance turn up together.

Selections and reviews by Pat Harrington

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Culture Vulture 15-21 August 2026

There are weeks when putting Culture Vulture together involves a fair bit of rummaging around in the schedules looking for something worth rescuing. This is not one of them.

Film lovers are particularly well served. Breathless, The Graduate, Bonnie and Clyde, The French Connection, The Deer Hunter and Heat amount to a formidable crash course in cinema across several decades. Throw in Top Hat at the other end of the emotional spectrum, Genevieve for a very British sort of pleasure and more recent fare including The Batman, The Beast and Monkey Man, and there is barely room to complain.

Television has a distinctly historical streak too. Kabul dramatises the extraordinary and frightening days surrounding the Taliban’s return to the Afghan capital in 2021. Franco gets two nights on PBS America. The 1918 influenza pandemic is revisited on Friday, while Concorde Crash takes us back to a disaster that effectively sounded the beginning of the end for the world’s most glamorous passenger aircraft.

I’m also intrigued by Buried with Michael Sheen. Chemical contamination is not the cheeriest subject for a Monday evening, admittedly, but Sheen has become increasingly willing to put his public profile behind questions of power, place and community. That makes this potentially much more than another celebrity-fronted documentary.

Then there is music. Beyoncé gets the BBC treatment, while Friday brings Miles Davis at the Proms. Two rather different definitions of star power.

Here are my picks – Pat Harrington

SATURDAY 15 AUGUST

8.00pm – Skyfall (2012), ITV1

Daniel Craig’s third Bond film remains one of the strongest of his period. Sam Mendes gives the series visual grandeur while allowing Bond to seem unusually vulnerable. Javier Bardem’s Silva is a villain with personality, and the relationship between Bond and Judi Dench’s M gives the film its emotional centre.

8.00pm – Kabul: The Fall, BBC Four

The first episode of a six‑part drama inspired by the extraordinary events of August 2021. Rather than treating the collapse as geopolitics, it follows people caught inside it.

9.00pm – The Batman (2022), ITV2

Robert Pattinson dons the cape in Matt Reeves’s sombre, rain‑soaked Gotham, and the result is far closer to a serial‑killer thriller than any traditional superhero romp. Reeves leans into the city’s decay: flooded streets, corruption seeping through every institution, and a Batman who feels less like a mythic avenger and more like a grim, obsessive detective picking his way through a crime scene that never ends. Pattinson’s performance is deliberately inward — bruised, watchful, almost monastic — and the film’s long, oppressive mood gives Gotham a weight it hasn’t had in years. It’s not interested in quips or spectacle; it wants atmosphere, dread and the sense that justice here is always half a step behind the darkness.

9.50pm – Kabul: The Siege, BBC Four

The second part follows a family scattered as Kabul falls. A huge historical event made comprehensible through individual experience.

10.00pm – Concorde Crash: Days That Shocked the World, Channel 4

A revisit of the 2000 Air France disaster and the abrupt end of Concorde’s glamour. The documentary goes back to those unforgettable images outside Paris — the aircraft trailing fire moments after take‑off — and examines how a machine once sold as the future of aviation became a symbol of vulnerability instead. Concorde had represented technological confidence, speed, prestige and the idea that progress would always move forward. The crash punctured that myth in seconds. What the programme does well is show how the investigation unfolded, how a single strip of metal on a runway set off a chain of failures, and how the tragedy effectively closed the curtain on an era when flying could still feel extraordinary. It’s sobering, but it’s also a reminder of how quickly the story of modernity can change direction.

10.30pm – Beyoncé at the BBC, BBC Two

A trawl through the BBC archives celebrating Beyoncé’s career.

11.40pm – The Graduate (1967), BBC Two

A cultural touchstone whose melancholy is often forgotten beneath the comedy. The familiar images — Dustin Hoffman drifting in the swimming pool, Anne Bancroft’s Mrs Robinson framed in that doorway, Simon and Garfunkel on the soundtrack — have become so iconic that it’s easy to overlook how strange and uneasy the film really is. Beneath the wit and the immaculate surface lies a story about a young man paralysed by expectation, drifting through a world that seems to have been planned for him without ever asking what he wants. Hoffman’s Benjamin is funny, yes, but he’s also lost, bored, and quietly suffocating in the comfortable future laid out by his parents. The film’s final shot, often misread as triumphant, is one of the great cinematic reminders that escape and certainty are not the same thing. It’s a classic that still pricks at the nerves.

1.00am – Monos e.(2019), Channel 4

Teenage guerrillas, a hostage, beautiful landscapes and feral behaviour. Unsettling but memorable. Landes’s film drops you into an unnamed conflict where discipline, ideology and even basic sanity begin to erode almost immediately. The young fighters are barely more than children, yet they carry weapons, guard a captive and try to enforce rules they barely understand. What makes Monos so striking is the contrast between its setting and its story: vast, breathtaking mountains and cloud forests surrounding a group whose behaviour becomes increasingly chaotic and animalistic. It’s a film where the beauty of the world feels like a rebuke to the violence inside it.

SUNDAY 16 AUGUST

9.30am – Top Hat (1935), BBC Two

Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers and Irving Berlin. Hollywood escapism at its most elegant. Top Hat is one of those films where the plot barely matters — it’s simply the scaffolding on which Astaire and Rogers hang some of the most effortless screen chemistry ever captured. The dancing is immaculate, the humour feather‑light, and Berlin’s songs glide through the film with the kind of confidence only the 1930s studio system could muster. What always strikes me is how completely the film commits to its own fantasy: hotels that look like palaces, rainstorms that arrive on cue, and a world where misunderstandings are solved not by conversation but by dancing.

9.00pm – Road to Perdition (2002), GREAT! TV

Tom Hanks plays against type as a Depression‑era mob enforcer, and the change gives the film a quiet, unsettling power. He moves through the story like a man already half‑buried by the life he’s chosen — dutiful, efficient, and painfully aware that every action has a cost. Mendes shoots the world in rain and shadow, long stretches of silence broken by sudden violence, and the result feels less like a crime thriller and more like a slow, mournful elegy.

What begins as revenge becomes something more intimate: a father trying to shield his son from the very world that shaped him. Jude Law’s needle‑thin, corpse‑pale hitman stalks the edges of the film with a kind of sickly glee, while Paul Newman, in one of his final screen roles, brings a weary authority to the criminal empire Hanks serves. It’s a story about loyalty, guilt and the way violence echoes through generations — beautifully made, heavy with consequence, and still capable of catching you off guard.

9.55pm – Black Watch, BBC Four

Gregory Burke’s celebrated play about soldiers, loyalty, masculinity and fear.

10.00pm – The French Connection (1971), BBC Two

Gene Hackman’s Popeye Doyle prowls through Friedkin’s hard, dirty New York thriller, and the city is as much a character as any of the cops or criminals. Everything feels cold, scraped‑raw, lived‑in: bars with peeling paint, streets slick with winter grime, surveillance carried out in silence because there’s nothing glamorous about it. Hackman plays Doyle as a man driven more by instinct than procedure — abrasive, relentless, and not remotely comfortable company — which is precisely why the film still works.

The famous car‑and‑train chase remains astonishing, a burst of chaos in a world otherwise defined by tension and suspicion. But the real power lies in the atmosphere Friedkin builds: a city where compromise is routine, where the line between law and criminality blurs, and where obsession corrodes everything it touches.

11.30pm – Black Watch: A Soldier’s Story, BBC Four

A documentary companion to the play.

11.40pm – Bonnie and Clyde (1967), BBC Two

Romantic, violent, exhilarating — and a turning point in American cinema. Beatty and Dunaway glide through the early scenes with a kind of dangerous charm, two beautiful people discovering that crime feels like freedom, at least for a while. The film begins almost playfully, all flirtation and stolen cars, but the mood shifts in increments: a gunshot here, a panicked escape there, until the violence stops being theoretical and starts leaving marks.

What still astonishes is how boldly Arthur Penn mixes tones. Comedy bumps up against brutality; glamour sits beside fear; the lovers pose for photographs even as the world closes in around them. Hollywood had rarely allowed this kind of collision before, and audiences in 1967 weren’t quite prepared for it. The final sequence — balletic, horrifying, impossible to forget — announced that American cinema was entering a new era, one where the old rules no longer applied. It’s a film that still feels alive, still capable of surprising you, and still entirely deserving of its reputation.

MONDAY 17 AUGUST

12.25am – Breathless (1960), Talking Pictures TV

Godard’s jump‑cutting, attitude‑laden revolution in cinema. Breathless still feels like a film that woke up one morning and decided the rules were optional. Jean‑Paul Belmondo drifts through Paris with a cigarette, a stolen car and a borrowed sense of swagger, modelling himself on Bogart while never quite managing the same composure. Jean Seberg, effortlessly cooler than everyone around her, gives the film its strange centre of gravity — calm, curious, and entirely unpredictable.

What Godard does here isn’t simply stylistic mischief. The jump cuts, the looseness, the sudden shifts in tone — they create a world that feels improvised, restless, alive. You can almost see cinema discovering that it doesn’t have to behave itself, that it can be messy and direct and full of attitude. Whole generations of filmmakers took notes. Watching it now, in the small hours, you feel the shock of the new all over again.

8.00pm – Panorama: Child Maintenance – Parents Under Pressure, BBC One

A look at whether the current system serves parents or children.

8.35pm – Franco: The Last Inquisitor – In the Name of Christ and the Empire, PBS America

Part one of a study of Franco’s dictatorship.

9.00pm – Disclosure: Welcome to Glasgow, BBC One

Investigating claims of “no‑go zones” in Scotland’s largest city.

9.00pm – Buried with Michael Sheen, BBC Two

Chemical dumping, contamination and the long shadow of industrial decisions. Sheen approaches the subject with a seriousness that never feels performative; he’s not here to emote for the camera but to ask why communities in Wales and England are still living with the consequences of choices made decades ago. The programme moves slowly, deliberately, letting residents describe what it means to discover that the ground beneath your feet may not be as safe as you assumed.

What gives the documentary its weight is the sense of history looping back on itself. Industrial waste was meant to stay buried, forgotten, sealed away in the past — yet here it is, resurfacing in soil samples, in water tests, in the stories of people who have spent years trying to be heard. Sheen’s presence helps connect the personal to the political: how responsibility is assigned, how institutions respond, and how long communities are expected to wait for answers. It’s not cheerful viewing, but it is quietly compelling, and it asks questions that won’t disappear simply because they make everyone uncomfortable.

9.50pm – The Truth About Franco: Spain’s Forgotten Dictatorship,

PBS America More on Franco and the difficulty of confronting history.

TUESDAY 18 AUGUST

8.30pm – Franco: The Last Inquisitor – The Manipulator, PBS America

Franco as survivor and political chameleon.

10.40pm – The Untouchables (1987), BBC One

De Palma turns the pursuit of Al Capone into grand, almost operatic entertainment. Kevin Costner’s Eliot Ness arrives in Chicago with the clean‑cut certainty of a man who still believes institutions work the way they’re supposed to, and the city promptly disabuses him of the notion. Sean Connery, grizzled and amused, gives Ness the education he didn’t know he needed — how to survive, how to fight, and how far you have to go when the other side has already abandoned the rulebook.

The film moves with a kind of muscular elegance: wide‑shouldered set‑pieces, slow‑burn tension, sudden eruptions of violence. De Palma isn’t chasing historical precision; he’s building a myth, and he knows exactly how to frame it. Robert De Niro’s Capone, all theatrical menace and controlled fury, completes the triangle. What you get is a story about righteousness pushed to its limits, told with style, swagger and a willingness to lean into its own legend. Historically loose, cinematically terrific — and still enormous fun.

1.35am – The Deer Hunter (1978), Legend

Cimino’s epic of steelworkers and Vietnam, anchored by performances of enormous power. The film begins slowly, almost deceptively so: a wedding, a hunting trip, friends teasing one another in a Pennsylvania town that feels ordinary, familiar, lived‑in. Cimino takes his time because he wants you to understand the community before the war tears into it. When the story shifts to Vietnam, the change is brutal — sudden violence, chaos, and the infamous Russian roulette sequences that have sparked argument ever since.

What carries the film is the cast. De Niro’s quiet intensity, Walken’s gradual unravelling, Meryl Streep’s gentleness in the margins — each performance adds another layer to a story about trauma, loyalty and the impossibility of returning unchanged. The final act is heavy, mournful, and strangely tender, a reminder that the real cost of war is paid long after the fighting stops.

WEDNESDAY 19 AUGUST

7.35pm – Genevieve (1953), Talking Pictures TV

Two couples, two cars, and a charming London‑to‑Brighton run. On paper it sounds almost too slight to endure, yet Genevieve remains one of those films whose appeal sneaks up on you. The veteran cars provide the excuse, but the real pleasure lies in watching Kenneth More, Dinah Sheridan, John Gregson and Kay Kendall needle one another with the kind of competitive irritation that never quite tips into malice.

There’s a breeziness to the whole thing — a sense that the film knows exactly how modest its ambitions are and leans into them with confidence. The humour comes from personality rather than contrivance, and Larry Adler’s harmonica score gives the story a jaunty rhythm that keeps everything moving. It’s civilised, good‑natured, and unmistakably British in the best sense: a comedy built not on chaos, but on the small, recognisable ways people try to outdo one another while pretending they aren’t keeping score.

8.00pm – Simon Sebag Montefiore Remembers: Rome, BBC Four

A revisit of the Eternal City and its endless historical echoes.

11.40pm – The Beast (2023), Film4

Bonello’s strange, ambitious meditation on love, fear and identity. It’s a film that refuses to sit still, slipping between eras and realities as if time were simply another mood to be rearranged. Léa Seydoux moves through these shifting worlds with a kind of haunted composure, as though she’s carrying memories that don’t quite belong to her; George MacKay, brittle and intense, mirrors her unease in ways that become increasingly unsettling.

Bonello isn’t interested in clarity. He’s chasing something more elusive — the way technology reshapes emotion, the way fear can echo across decades, the way identity can fracture without ever fully breaking. Some scenes feel dreamlike, others clinical, and the film’s tone changes with the same quiet confidence as its settings. It’s not designed to make life easy for the viewer, but that’s part of the appeal. The Beast lingers, not because it explains itself, but because it leaves you turning its ideas over long after the credits fade.

THURSDAY 20 AUGUST

8.00pm – Lion, National Geographic

Young lion Kio dreams of becoming king. Real drama without human embellishment.

9.00pm – Heat (1995), Film4 Michael Mann’s masterpiece. Pacino and De Niro in one of cinema’s great duels.

9.00pm – The French Connection (1971), BBC Four

Another chance to see Friedkin’s classic.

10.40pm – The Poughkeepsie Shuffle: Tracing The French Connection, BBC Four

Mark Kermode on the making of Friedkin’s classic — and few people are better suited to the job. Kermode has that rare combination of scholarship and enthusiasm: he can talk about camera placement, production politics and editing rhythms, yet still make you feel the thrill of seeing a great film for the first time. I rate him enormously as a critic; he’s one of the few who can explain why a film works without flattening its mystery.

Here he digs into the creation of The French Connection: the bruised, hard‑edged New York locations; the tension between documentary grit and operatic set‑pieces; the way Friedkin pushed his cast and crew to capture a city on the brink. Kermode traces the production with clarity and affection, showing how a film that looked chaotic on the surface was built with absolute precision underneath. It’s a smart, engaging piece — part history lesson, part love letter to a thriller that changed the temperature of American cinema.

11.35pm – The Graduate (1967), BBC Four
A second chance to see this classic film.
12.05am – Tár (2022), BBC Two

Blanchett is formidable as Lydia Tár — brilliant, intimidating, and increasingly undone by the pressures she’s spent years pretending she can rise above. The film moves with a slow, deliberate pulse, letting you sit inside her world: rehearsal rooms humming with tension, boardrooms thick with politics, and the quiet, private spaces where her certainty begins to crack. Blanchett doesn’t play the role so much as inhabit it, giving Tár a kind of electric stillness that makes every shift in mood feel seismic.

Field’s direction is cool and controlled, almost clinical at times, which only heightens the unease. The film isn’t interested in easy answers or tidy moral lessons; it’s more concerned with power — how it’s wielded, how it corrodes, and how quickly it can slip away. By the time the story reaches its final, strange movement, you realise you’ve watched a character study of rare precision. It’s demanding, unsettling, and quietly astonishing.

12.20am Chopper (2000), Film4
Eric Bana’s extraordinary performance as Mark “Chopper” Read — funny, frightening and impossible to look away from. The film doesn’t bother with the usual biopic structure; instead it drops you straight into Chopper’s world, where violence arrives without warning and self‑mythology is a full‑time occupation. Bana plays him with a kind of manic elasticity, switching from charm to menace in the space of a breath, as though even he isn’t sure which version of himself will surface next.

What makes the film work is its refusal to tidy anything up. Andrew Dominik shoots the story with a grimy, off‑kilter energy, letting the humour bleed into the horror and the horror bleed back into the humour. You’re never quite sure whether Chopper is telling the truth, exaggerating for effect, or inventing entire chapters of his life on the spot — and that ambiguity becomes the point. It’s a portrait of a man who understands that notoriety is a performance, and Bana delivers it with astonishing precision.

FRIDAY 21 AUGUST

3.25pm – River of No Return (1954), Film4

A pairing that shouldn’t work but absolutely does. Mitchum brings that unshakeable, laconic presence — a man who seems carved out of something tougher than the landscape around him — while Monroe offers a warmth and vulnerability that complicates every scene she’s in. Put together, they create a strange, compelling balance: his stillness against her radiance, his dry humour against her emotional openness.

Technicolor does the rest. The colours are lush, almost too vivid, giving the film a dreamlike sheen that sits just slightly at odds with the grit of the story. It’s one of those mid‑century Hollywood productions where the visuals feel almost indulgent, yet the performances keep everything grounded. Mitchum’s restraint and Monroe’s glow — two very different energies, meeting in a film that knows exactly how to showcase both.

8.00pm – Surgery Secrets of the Super Rich, Channel 4

Cosmetic transformation and the modern collision of wealth and dissatisfaction.

8.00pm – Miles Davis: A Celebration at the Proms, BBC Four

Musicians engaging with Davis’s endlessly influential body of work.

8.20pm – The Flu That Killed 50 Million, PBS America

A study of the 1918 influenza pandemic.

9.00pm – As Good as It Gets (1997), GREAT! TV

Nicholson and Hunt are excellent in a story of difficult human progress. Nicholson gives one of his sharpest late‑career performances: a man whose routines have hardened into armour, whose cruelty is often just fear in disguise. Helen Hunt counters him with warmth and a kind of exhausted resilience, refusing to let the film slip into sentimentality.

What makes it work is the rhythm of their interactions — prickly, funny, occasionally painful — and the way the film allows change to arrive in small, uneven steps rather than grand revelations. Greg Kinnear adds another layer of gentleness and hurt, reminding you that everyone in this story is carrying something heavy. It’s a comedy, yes, but one built on the slow, awkward business of becoming slightly better than you were yesterday. Not perfect, not transformed — just better. And sometimes that’s enough.

11.05pm – Silent Roar (2023), BBC Two

A Scottish coming‑of‑age drama set on the Isle of Lewis. It’s a film steeped in place — the sea, the sky, the long stretches of quiet that shape island life — and director Johnny Barrington uses that landscape not as decoration but as emotional terrain. The story follows a young man trying to make sense of grief, faith and desire, all while living in a community where silence often speaks louder than confession.

There’s humour in it, and strangeness, and a kind of off‑beat charm that feels distinctly Hebridean. The performances are gentle but sharp, capturing the awkwardness of adolescence without sanding down its intensity. What lingers is the mood: windswept, melancholy, occasionally surreal, and always rooted in the idea that growing up is less about revelation and more about learning to live with the things you can’t quite explain.

11.30pm – Monkey Man (2024), BBC One

Dev Patel’s furious, physical revenge thriller. Patel directs with the kind of intensity most actors never attempt, and then throws himself into the centre of the storm — bruised, relentless, and moving with a precision that feels almost ritualistic. The film’s world is neon‑lit and corrupt, a place where violence isn’t just spectacle but language, and Patel speaks it fluently.

What gives Monkey Man its charge is the blend of myth and grit: echoes of folklore running beneath bone‑crunching action, a sense that the character is fighting not just men but the systems that shaped them. The set‑pieces are tight, inventive, and shot with a confidence that marks Patel as a director to take seriously. It’s angry, stylish, and driven by a performance that refuses to soften its edges.

STREAMING

WEDNESDAY 19 AUGUST

Freefall: A Reckoning for Boeing – Netflix Corporate accountability and the human consequences of aerospace failures.

THURSDAY 20 AUGUST

Novak Djokovic: The Wolf in Winter – Prime Video A portrait of Djokovic in the late phase of his career, where intelligence must compensate for time.

 

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Culture Vulture 8–14 August 2026

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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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Culture Vulture: 4–10 July 2026

The Fourth of July casts a long, confident shadow across this week’s viewing, and broadcasters have embraced the 250th anniversary of America’s Declaration of Independence with gusto. History, music, politics, travel, and a run of films that remind you just how deeply American storytelling has seeped into the cultural bloodstream. It’s a week where Neil Armstrong rubs shoulders with Ravi Shankar, where The Specials share the stage with Blondie, and where Ridley Scott’s neon‑soaked Los Angeles still feels like the future.

There’s celebration, certainly, but also reflection. The concluding chapter of The American Revolution lands with real weight, while Armstrong offers a quieter portrait of a man who changed the world simply by stepping onto another. And if you’d rather mark the week with music, Sky Arts and the BBC have you covered with 2 Tone, Blondie, and a generous helping of American icons.

Film lovers are spoiled: Blade Runner, The Lady Eve, Leave Her to Heaven, Atonement, BlackBerry, Official Secrets, Red Rooms — a line‑up that swings from Technicolor noir to modern paranoia without missing a beat. It’s a rich, varied week, and one that rewards dipping in and out rather than trying to consume everything at once.

Saturday 4 July

8.00pm – Alexander Armstrong Across America (Channel 5)

Armstrong’s cross‑country wander continues, this time through West Virginia. He’s a genial guide — curious without being intrusive, amused without being arch — and the series has settled into a relaxed, intelligent rhythm. Ideal early‑evening viewing.

9.00pm – 50 American Music Icons at the BBC (BBC Two)

A generous sweep through the artists who shaped modern music. Expect the usual BBC archive magic: grainy footage, unexpected pairings, and performances that still crackle decades later.

9.00pm – Starter for 10 (BBC Four, 2006)

Starter for 10 begins as a gentle comedy about a working‑class lad arriving at Bristol University in the mid‑1980s, but quickly becomes something more textured: a story about belonging, aspiration, and the awkwardness of trying to reinvent yourself. James McAvoy plays Brian with a mix of earnestness and self‑inflicted calamity, the kind of young man who wants desperately to be clever but hasn’t yet learned how to be comfortable.

The University Challenge sequences are great fun — brisk, competitive, and full of the kind of trivia that once felt like the height of sophistication. But the film’s real strength lies in its emotional honesty. Brian’s romantic missteps, his friendships, and his attempts to reconcile his new life with the one he left behind are handled with a light touch that never slips into sentimentality.

The supporting cast is uniformly excellent, especially Rebecca Hall and Dominic Cooper, who bring nuance to roles that could easily have been caricatures. And the soundtrack — all jangly guitars and wistful nostalgia — gives the film a warm, lived‑in feel. A small story told with generosity.

9.00pm – The Specials Live from Coventry Cathedral (Sky Arts)

This 2019 concert captures The Specials at a moment when their music felt newly urgent. Performing inside Coventry Cathedral — a space steeped in history and resilience — the band channels decades of political frustration into something electrifying. There’s no sense of nostalgia or polite revivalism; the performance is sharp, committed, and defiantly present.

Tracks like “Ghost Town” and “A Message to You, Rudy” land with renewed force, their themes of inequality and social tension sounding depressingly familiar in 2026. It’s a reminder that 2 Tone wasn’t just a musical movement; it was a cultural reckoning.

10.15pm – The Creator (Channel 4, 2023)

The Creator wears its ambition openly. Gareth Edwards builds a future where artificial intelligence has evolved into something indistinguishable from humanity, and the film explores the uneasy boundary between creation and control. John David Washington anchors the story with a performance full of conflicted empathy, and the relationship between his character and the AI child gives the film its emotional spine.

Visually stunning, thematically bold, occasionally uneven — but always sincere.

10.20pm – Anyone But You (BBC One, 2023)

A sun‑drenched rom‑com that leans unapologetically into screwball tradition. Sydney Sweeney and Glen Powell spark off each other with the kind of chemistry that can’t be faked, turning bickering into foreplay and mishaps into momentum. Breezy, confident, and exactly what it sets out to be.

10.35pm – Record On: The Specials – A Message to You (Sky Arts)

A compact, lively documentary exploring one of the defining tracks of the 2 Tone era. It’s a reminder that some songs become landmarks not because they’re catchy, but because they capture a moment with uncanny precision.

12.10am – White Riot (Sky Arts)

White Riot remains one of the most vital music‑politics documentaries of recent years — urgent, angry, and absolutely crackling with purpose. It charts the rise of Rock Against Racism, that scrappy, DIY coalition of musicians, activists and ordinary kids who refused to let the far right colonise Britain’s youth culture in the 1970s. What makes the film sing is its blend of raw archival footage and present‑day testimony: it feels historical and contemporary at the same time, a reminder that the battles fought then still echo now.

The documentary captures the electricity of those early RAR gigs — the sense of possibility, the belief that culture could be a weapon rather than a mirror. Punk, reggae, ska: all thrown together in a glorious, defiant mess that said more about Britain than any politician ever could. It’s a portrait of people who didn’t wait for permission to resist; they just built a movement out of flyers, fanzines, borrowed amps and sheer bloody-minded conviction.

And of course, the far right noticed. The National Front, rattled by RAR’s momentum and terrified of losing cultural ground, responded by creating Rock Against Communism — a clumsy attempt at a counter‑movement that eventually morphed into White Noise, a more organised and effective effort to push racist music into youth subcultures. It was the mirror image of RAR: where one side preached solidarity, the other peddled division; where one fused genres, the other narrowed them into a clenched fist. The fact that White Noise gained traction is a reminder that culture wars aren’t new — and they’re never fought on just one front.

White Riot doesn’t shy away from any of this. It’s a call to remember that culture can be a force for change, but also that it’s always contested. RAR won hearts, minds and dancefloors — but the NF kept trying to exert influence. The film ends with a sense of unfinished business, and rightly so. We’re still waiting on the documentary that tackles Rock Against Communism and White Noise head‑on, tracing how the far right tried to reshape youth culture in the opposite direction. It’s a story that deserves the same forensic, fiery treatment.

Until then, White Riot stands as a testament to what happens when ordinary people decide they’ve had enough — and pick up guitars instead of giving up.

1.30am – Godland (BBC Two, 2022)

A stark Icelandic drama of faith, colonialism and endurance. Slow, severe and visually extraordinary — a film that demands patience and rewards it with depth.

1.55am – Ian Dury and the Blockheads: Hold On to Your Structure (Sky Arts)

A late‑night jolt of energy, attitude and sheer artistic stubbornness. This documentary doesn’t just sketch Ian Dury; it inhabits him — the charisma, the bite, the wit, the refusal to be anything other than gloriously, awkwardly himself. Dury wasn’t built for tidy narratives or polite applause, and the programme wisely leans into that. It shows a performer who treated the stage like a battleground and a playground at the same time, swaggering through songs that sounded like they’d been chiselled out of everyday life and then electrified.

What emerges is a portrait of a man who understood rhythm as instinct, language as weaponry, and performance as a kind of joyful confrontation. The Blockheads, tight as a drumskin and twice as sharp, weren’t just a backing band — they were co‑conspirators. You see how their precision allowed Dury’s lyrical mischief to land with maximum impact. The documentary captures that chemistry beautifully: the way a sly grin from Dury could send the whole ensemble pivoting into something loose, funky and unmistakably theirs.

There’s also a strong sense of context — Britain in the late 70s, restless, loud, and culturally up for grabs. Dury wasn’t punk, but he wasn’t not punk either. He occupied that strange, thrilling space where pub rock, art‑school eccentricity and working‑class grit collided. The film shows how he channelled all of it: disability, class, frustration, humour, defiance. He turned the messiness of life into songs that felt like they were speaking directly to you, even when they were taking the mick.

What the programme gets right is the emotional truth beneath the bravado. Dury’s uncompromising nature wasn’t just attitude — it was survival. He built a structure for himself out of words, rhythm and sheer bloody-mindedness, and then held onto it with both hands. The documentary honours that without smoothing the edges or romanticising the chaos.

It’s a lively, affectionate, slightly rowdy tribute to a performer who never fitted neatly into any category and never wanted to. Charismatic, uncompromising, utterly original — the film reminds you that Ian Dury didn’t just make music. He made a world, and invited you in if you were brave enough to keep up.

Sunday 5 July

9.25am – Jane Eyre (BBC Two, 1943)

What makes this version endure isn’t just its fidelity to Charlotte Brontë’s story, but the way it captures the novel’s emotional weather. There’s a dampness to the air, a sense of wind pressing against old stone, that gives the whole film a haunted, half‑lit quality. Joan Fontaine plays Jane with that soft‑spoken resolve she was so good at: a woman who has learned to survive by shrinking herself, yet whose inner life is fierce, alert, and quietly defiant. You see it in the way she holds her posture, in the small hesitations before she speaks, as though weighing the cost of honesty.

Orson Welles, meanwhile, storms through Thornfield like a man wrestling with his own legend. His Rochester is theatrical, yes, but that’s part of the pleasure — he brings a bruised grandeur to the role, a sense of someone who has lived too intensely and now hides in the shadows of his own house. When he and Fontaine share the frame, the contrast is electric: her stillness against his volatility, her moral clarity against his romantic turbulence.

The Gothic atmosphere isn’t decoration; it’s the film’s emotional architecture. The fog, the candlelit corridors, the sudden bursts of sound — all of it mirrors Jane’s journey from repression to self‑possession. Even after eighty years, the film feels startlingly alive, a reminder of how potent Brontë’s story becomes when treated not as a costume drama but as a tale of yearning, loneliness, and the stubborn hope of finding a place where one’s heart is finally recognised.

8.00pm – Inside Classical: The Rite of Spring (BBC Four)

A clear, engaging introduction to Stravinsky’s revolutionary masterpiece. Accessible without oversimplifying — ideal for curious newcomers.

8.45pm – BBC Proms 2017: Passages (BBC Four)

Ravi Shankar and Philip Glass’s collaboration is performed in full. Hypnotic, intricate, and quietly transcendent.

9.15pm – Armstrong (PBS America)

A thoughtful portrait of Neil Armstrong that avoids hero worship. Disciplined, private, and quietly determined — a man defined not by fame but by precision.

10.00pm – Ravi Shankar in Concert (BBC Four)

Watching Shankar perform is witnessing music as conversation. Fluid, expressive, and masterful.

10.00pm – Blade Runner (BBC Two, 1982)

There are films that age, films that date, and films that simply continue — Blade Runner belongs to the last category. Every return to Ridley Scott’s neon‑drenched Los Angeles feels like stepping back into a dream you half‑remember. The city is vast, exhausted, and strangely beautiful, as if decay itself has become a kind of art form.

What keeps the film alive isn’t just the production design; it’s the moral unease that runs through every frame. Rutger Hauer’s Roy Batty remains one of cinema’s great tragic figures — a creature fighting for dignity in a world that denies him even the right to exist.

Vangelis’s score wraps the film in drifting melancholy. Blade Runner hasn’t been overtaken by the future because it already occupies it.

1.20am – Glory (Channel 4, 1989)

What strikes you, watching Glory again, is how completely it refuses to soften the brutality of the American Civil War. Edward Zwick frames the story of the 54th Massachusetts — the first all‑Black regiment in the Union Army — with a kind of sombre grandeur, letting the mud, smoke and chaos speak for themselves. It’s a film about courage, yes, but also about the grinding cost of being asked to prove your worth in a world determined to doubt it.

Denzel Washington’s performance remains the film’s emotional centre of gravity. He plays Private Trip with a rawness that never tips into sentimentality: a man hardened by injustice, suspicious of authority, and yet capable of moments of piercing vulnerability. The famous flogging scene still lands like a punch — Washington’s silent tears aren’t a plea for sympathy but a statement of defiance, a refusal to be broken again. It’s one of those rare moments in cinema where an actor seems to compress an entire history into a single expression.

Around him, Morgan Freeman brings quiet moral authority, and Matthew Broderick — often underestimated — gives Colonel Shaw a thoughtful, conflicted presence, a young officer learning the difference between command and leadership. The film’s final act, the assault on Fort Wagner, is staged with operatic intensity: not triumphant, but tragic, a recognition that heroism often comes without reward.

Glory endures because it treats its subject with seriousness and respect. It’s earnest, moving, and essential — a reminder of the sacrifices made by men who fought not just for a country, but for the right to be seen as part of it.

Monday 6 July

2.45pm – The Lady Eve (Film4, 1941)

Preston Sturges’ sparkling comedy remains a masterclass in elegance and timing. Barbara Stanwyck is sensational — sly, seductive and effortlessly in control — while Henry Fonda’s earnest innocence gives the film its comic heartbeat.

Sturges’ dialogue still crackles, full of sly jokes and perfectly timed reversals. Romance, deception and champagne-light wit combine into something timeless.

10.40pm – I Am Legend (BBC One, 2007)

Will Smith carries this post‑apocalyptic thriller with surprising emotional heft. Atmospheric and quietly affecting.

11.40pm – BlackBerry (Film4, 2023)

A whip‑smart, chaotic and irresistibly entertaining dive into the rise and implosion of the world’s first smartphone obsession. BlackBerry plays like a tech thriller filtered through a punk fanzine — scrappy, fast, and vibrating with the energy of people who have no idea they’re about to change the world, then absolutely no idea how to hold onto it.

Jay Baruchel is superb as Mike Lazaridis, all nervous brilliance and apologetic genius, a man who can build the future but can’t quite look anyone in the eye while doing it. His twitchy, soft‑spoken intensity gives the film its emotional core: the engineer who wants to make something elegant, functional, beautiful, and keeps watching it get swallowed by forces louder and more ruthless than he is.

Enter Glenn Howerton as Jim Balsillie — a volcanic, vein‑popping storm of ambition who seems to operate at a frequency only dogs can hear. It’s one of the great recent performances in a business drama: terrifying, hilarious, and weirdly compelling. He doesn’t just chew the scenery; he detonates it. The film’s best scenes come from the collision between Baruchel’s fragile idealism and Howerton’s corporate berserker energy, a partnership that feels both inevitable and doomed from the moment they shake hands.

Director Matt Johnson keeps the pace frantic and the tone razor‑sharp, capturing the absurdity of tech culture before tech culture learned to hide its absurdity behind glossy keynotes and minimalist branding. There’s a real pleasure in watching the early days of innovation rendered as something messy, human and slightly ridiculous — a reminder that the devices we now treat as extensions of ourselves were born out of chaos, ego and sheer improvisation.

What makes BlackBerry stand out is its refusal to mythologise. It’s funny, biting and occasionally bleak, but never reverent. It understands that the story of the smartphone pioneer isn’t a tale of heroes and villains — it’s a story of people who flew too close to the sun while arguing about data compression and supply chains.

One of the most entertaining business dramas in years, and one that knows exactly how to balance satire with sincerity. It’s frantic, funny and sharply observed — a rise‑and‑fall story that never stops moving, because neither did the people who built the thing in the first place.

12.05am – Official Secrets (BBC Two, 2019)

Katharine Gun’s whistleblowing story becomes a quietly gripping drama about conscience and consequence. Keira Knightley is superb — restrained, determined, and deeply human.

12.05am – Secrets of the Celebrity Sex Tapes (Channel 4)

The series concludes with Kim Kardashian and the birth of scandal‑as‑currency in the digital age.

Tuesday 7 July

10.00pm – The American Revolution (BBC Four)

The final episode — The Most Sacred Thing — lands with real force. A clear, confident account of the ideals that shaped a nation and still echo today.

10.40pm – The Lady in the Van (BBC One, 2015)

Maggie Smith is magnificent in Alan Bennett’s bittersweet tale.

What Bennett understands — and what this film preserves so beautifully — is that eccentricity isn’t a quirk, it’s a form of armour. Maggie Smith’s Miss Shepherd arrives on screen like a small weather system: unpredictable, sharp, and entirely uninterested in being liked. Yet Smith plays her not as a caricature of British oddity but as a woman whose stubbornness has become a survival strategy. There’s a flinty dignity in the way she occupies Bennett’s driveway, as though claiming a tiny republic of her own.

Alex Jennings, doing a double-act as Bennett’s internal and external selves, gives the film its gentle hum of self-mockery. He captures that familiar Bennett blend of wry detachment and reluctant compassion — the writer who would prefer to observe life from a safe distance but keeps finding himself drawn into its mess. Their relationship becomes a kind of slow, awkward dance: two people circling each other, neither quite willing to admit they care.

What lifts the film is its refusal to sentimentalise the situation. The humour is dry, the melancholy unforced. You feel the weight of Miss Shepherd’s past pressing through the cracks, and the way Bennett’s quiet acts of kindness accumulate almost despite himself. By the time the film reaches its final, lightly magical flourish, it feels earned — a recognition that even the most unlikely connections can leave a lasting mark.

It’s gentle, humane and quietly transformative, a story about responsibility that sneaks up on you and becomes something tender.

2.20am – Ayena (Channel 4, 2022)

A thoughtful independent drama exploring identity and expectation with sensitivity and restraint.

Wednesday 8 July

9.00pm – How to Get Filthy Rich with Gary Stevenson (Channel 4)

Stevenson brings rare clarity to discussions of wealth and inequality. Provocative, evidence‑driven and bracing.

9.00pm – Katie Price: Nothing to Hide (Sky Documentaries)

An unexpectedly intimate portrait of a figure long defined by tabloid glare. Candid, empathetic and quietly revealing.

11.10pm – Red Rooms (Film4, 2023)

A chilling psychological thriller that burrows under the skin. Cold, clinical and unsettling — a study of obsession in the digital age.

11.45pm – David Brent: Life on the Road (BBC Three, 2016)

Ricky Gervais drags his most excruciating creation back into the spotlight, and the result is a mockumentary that leans hard into the painful humour that made The Office so indelible. Brent, still clinging to the tatters of his rock‑star delusion, bankrolls a doomed tour with a band who’d clearly rather be anywhere else. It’s a familiar cocktail of bravado, desperation and toe‑curling self‑promotion — the kind of comedy where you laugh, wince, and occasionally look away.

What gives the film its pulse is the way Gervais threads moments of genuine pathos through the cringe. Brent’s loneliness is never overstated, but it’s always there: in the forced banter, the awkward silences, the way he keeps performing even when no one’s watching. The jokes land because the sadness is real, and the sadness lands because the jokes are so sharply observed.

There’s also a sly commentary on ageing ambition — the man who can’t accept that the world has moved on, still chasing the dream he sketched out in a Slough office two decades earlier. The film doesn’t redeem Brent, but it does understand him. And in that understanding, it finds something oddly touching amid the chaos, the bad gigs, and the endless, exhausting need to be loved.

Thursday 9 July

9.00pm – Bletchley Park: Codebreaker’s Forgotten Genius (BBC Four)

A deserved tribute to Gordon Welchman, whose wartime innovations shaped Allied intelligence. Thoughtful and quietly moving.

9.00pm – The Road (Great! Action, 2009)

Cormac McCarthy’s bleak novel becomes an equally stark film. Viggo Mortensen gives a remarkable performance — gaunt, haunted, fiercely protective. A difficult, powerful meditation on love and survival.

10.40pm – Elvis (BBC One, 2022)

Baz Luhrmann’s maximalist whirlwind of a biopic — loud, glittering, and absolutely determined to sweep you off your feet. It’s cinema as spectacle, every frame straining with colour, movement and musical pulse. Yet beneath the rhinestones and riotous editing, the film keeps circling back to the emotional cost of myth‑making: the boy who became the brand, the man trapped inside the legend.

Austin Butler is magnetic throughout, not just mimicking Elvis’s swagger but finding the vulnerability underneath — the hesitations, the longing, the flashes of fear when the machinery around him grows too big to control. His performance gives the film its heartbeat, grounding Luhrmann’s operatic excess in something recognisably human.

And then there’s Tom Hanks’ Colonel Parker, a grotesque carnival barker of a presence, steering the story with a sinister grin. The dynamic between Butler’s raw sincerity and Hanks’ oily manipulation becomes the film’s engine, driving it through the highs, the heartbreak, and the inevitable crash.

It’s bold, messy, and often overwhelming — but that’s the point. Luhrmann isn’t trying to tell the story of Elvis so much as recreate the sensation of him: the dazzle, the noise, the impossible momentum of a life lived in the spotlight.

Friday 10 July

8.15pm – Women of World War II: More Untold Stories (PBS America)

Important, absorbing accounts of women whose wartime contributions deserve far wider recognition.

9.40pm – Blondie in Concert (BBC Four)

Asbury Park, New Jersey – September 29, 2018: Debbie Harry of Blondie performs on stage at the 2018 Sea Hear Now Music Festival.. Picture credit: Adam McCullough / Shutterstock.com

Captured in Glasgow in 1979, Blondie in Concert is a time capsule of a band at the height of its powers — tight, stylish, and effortlessly cool. Debbie Harry commands the stage with icy charisma, her voice cutting through the mix with precision and attitude. The performance brims with confidence: the band knows exactly what it’s doing and how good it sounds.

What’s striking, watching it now, is how modern it feels. The rhythms, the energy, the interplay between punk edge and pop sophistication — all of it still sounds fresh. Blondie were never just a band riding a trend; they were architects of a sound that bridged worlds, bringing New York grit into the mainstream without losing its bite.

Harry’s stage presence remains magnetic. She moves with the ease of someone who understands that cool isn’t about effort; it’s about control. The camera loves her, and she knows it, but there’s no vanity — just a performer completely in command of her craft.

The Glasgow crowd, caught between awe and exhilaration, adds its own electricity. You can feel the pulse of a moment when Blondie were redefining what pop could be: sharp, stylish, and utterly alive. It’s a concert that reminds you why they mattered — and why they still do.

10.00pm – 1977: When Virginia Wade Won Wimbledon (Channel 5)

A timely look back at Britain’s last women’s singles champion as Wimbledon reaches its climax.

11.00am – Leave Her to Heaven (Film4, 1945)

Gene Tierney’s performance remains one of cinema’s great femme fatale turns. A sumptuous Technicolor noir that hides darkness beneath its glossy surface.

12.05am – Atonement (BBC Two, 2007)

Romantic, devastating and beautifully made. Joe Wright’s adaptation of Ian McEwan’s novel remains one of the finest British films of the century — a story about guilt, imagination and the long shadow of a single mistake.

Streaming

Saturday 4 July – Turn: Washington’s Spies (ITVX)

All four seasons drop at once. Jamie Bell anchors this smart, underrated drama about espionage during the American Revolution. Ideal for a long weekend binge.

Sunday 5 July – Sparks of Tomorrow (Netflix)

Weekly episodes. An imaginative anime set in an alternative twentieth century — visually striking and narratively ambitious.

Monday 6 July – Hamnet (Netflix)

Maggie O’Farrell’s novel becomes a sensitive, beautifully acted drama about grief, family and the shadows cast by genius.

Friday 10 July – Miguel Ángel Blanco: The 48 Hours That Changed Spain (Netflix)

A powerful documentary revisiting a moment that reshaped Spanish politics and united a nation.

Friday 10 July – Star City: Season Finale (Apple TV+)

The For All Mankind spin‑off reaches its Soviet‑side conclusion. Ambitious, thoughtful alternate‑history storytelling.

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Culture Vulture 27 June – 3 July 2026

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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 MandelaThe 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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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 DylanSings Dylan 2Shadow 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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Culture Vulture — 9–15 May 2026


An eagle soaring against a blue sky with mountains in the background, featuring the text 'CULTURE VULTURE' prominently displayed at the top and 'COUNTER CULTURE' logo at the bottom, along with event dates '9-15 May 2026'.

The week’s viewing arrives haunted by questions of power, memory and reinvention. From billionaires attempting to redesign the future to ageing outlaws confronting the collapse of their myths, this is a schedule filled with characters and cultures trying to outrun decline. Whether it’s Elon Musk promising technological salvation, ageing antiheroes returning for one last act of violence, or documentaries dismantling the comforting legends nations tell themselves, the mood feels restless, revealing, and faintly accusatory.

Three selections stand out. 🌟 The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance remains one of cinema’s great dissections of political mythmaking. 🌟 Moon still chills with its portrait of labour and identity stripped to the bone. 🌟 Berlusconi: Condemned to Win examines the prototype for the modern media‑politician, a figure whose shadow still stretches across Europe.

Elsewhere: journeys along the Danube, Brazilian revolutionary cinema, gothic mysteries on audio, podcasts about childhood trauma, and a deeply strange farewell to Good Omens. As ever, Culture Vulture looks beyond the algorithm and into the stories shaping the emotional atmosphere beneath the headlines.

Selections and reviews are by Pat Harrington.


Saturday 9th May 2026

🌟 The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance

5 Action, 4:25 PM

John Ford’s masterpiece remains one of the most quietly devastating westerns ever made. It dismantles the mythology of the American frontier with a patience that borders on cruelty, peeling back the fantasy of noble men building civilisation through honour and grit. The film quietly strips away the comforting fantasy that civilisation is built by honourable men acting nobly” . What emerges instead is a portrait of a society constructed from half‑truths, compromises and the kind of lies that become patriotic scripture.

The famous line — “When the legend becomes fact, print the legend” — lands harder with every passing decade. Ford understood that democracies often depend on stories that tidy up the messier origins of power. Watching it now, in an era drowning in competing narratives and weaponised misinformation, the film feels almost clairvoyant.

Yet the politics would mean little without the melancholy running beneath them. John Wayne’s Tom Doniphon is a man watching the world move on without him, a gunslinger whose usefulness is fading as the town embraces law, order and selective memory. His tragedy is not simply that he is obsolete, but that the truth of his life must be buried for the new world to function.

Ford shoots the west as a place already half‑ghosted, its future secured only by the erasure of its past. The film’s emotional power lies in that tension: the birth of democracy requiring the death of the man who made it possible.

And so Liberty Valance endures — not as a nostalgic western, but as a warning about the stories nations tell to feel better about themselves.

The Sting

Legend, 5:25 PM

The Sting remains one of cinema’s great confidence tricks, a film so charming that audiences willingly surrender to its sleight of hand. Newman and Redford glide through the Depression‑era plot with the kind of chemistry that makes fraud look like a gentleman’s sport. The film turns raud into a kind of elegant performance art. .

Beneath the ragtime bounce lies something darker. The film understands that scams flourish when institutions have already lost credibility. Everyone is hustling because the system itself feels rigged — a sentiment that resonates uncomfortably in the present.

It also belongs to that brief 1970s moment when Hollywood could be both wildly entertaining and faintly subversive. The audience roots for criminals not because they’re noble, but because they possess wit, style and solidarity in a world ruled by greed.

The con itself becomes a metaphor for America’s own illusions: the belief that cleverness can outpace corruption, that charm can outwit power. It’s a fantasy, of course, but a seductive one.

Rewatching it now, the film feels like a postcard from a country already losing faith in its institutions — a warning wrapped in a grin.

Angela Rippon’s River Cruises

Channel 5, 8:00 PM

Travel television often functions as a collective exhale, a temporary escape from overcrowded cities and economic anxiety. Angela Rippon understands this instinctively. Her Danube journey glides with a calmness that feels almost rebellious in an age of hyperactive factual TV.

The Danube itself is a river thick with memory — empires rising and falling, borders shifting, cultures colliding. Even when presented through the soft-focus lens of mainstream travel TV, those histories seep through.

Rippon’s presence is the show’s anchor. Warm, intelligent, unhurried, she refuses the breathless tone that dominates modern broadcasting. Her style suggests that curiosity need not be loud to be engaging.

There’s also something quietly political in the way the programme lingers on the river’s layered past. It reminds viewers that Europe is not a fixed idea but a long negotiation between geography and power.

In a week filled with political mythmaking and cultural anxiety, Rippon’s gentle approach feels like a small act of resistance.

Pocahontas: Beyond the Myth

PBS America, 7:20 PM

This documentary attempts to prise apart centuries of romanticised storytelling to reveal the real figure buried beneath. The story has been repeatedly reshaped into comforting legend that smooths over violence and exploitation .

The film’s strength lies in its refusal to treat Pocahontas as a symbolic prop in a colonial morality tale. Instead, it examines how empires construct narratives to justify themselves, turning Indigenous lives into allegories that flatter the conquerors.

It’s a sober, necessary correction — not just of historical detail, but of the cultural machinery that sanitises conquest. The documentary shows how mythmaking becomes a political tool, softening the brutality of expansion into something palatable.

Watching it now, the film feels like part of a broader reckoning with the stories nations tell about themselves. The past is not neutral; it is curated.

And in that curation lies the real power.

The Suicide Squad

ITV2, 9:00 PM

James Gunn’s gleefully anarchic take on the superhero genre remains one of the few comic‑book films willing to bite the hand that feeds it. Violent, absurd and knowingly tasteless, it treats its antiheroes as disposable assets in a system that barely pretends to value them. Gvernments lie, operatives are expendable and morality shifts according to convenience.

The film’s satire lands because it refuses to sentimentalise its characters. They are tools, and the state uses them accordingly. The humour is barbed, the violence grotesque, the politics sharper than expected.

Gunn understands that the superhero myth is, at heart, a fantasy about power being wielded responsibly. The Suicide Squad laughs at that idea. Here, power is bureaucratic, cynical and uninterested in heroism.

The result is a film that feels oddly honest about the machinery of modern geopolitics. It’s a cartoon, yes, but one with teeth.

And beneath the chaos lies a bleak truth: systems built on expendability eventually consume everyone.

The Producers

BBC Two, 11:45 PM

Mel Brooks’ outrageous satire remains a masterclass in using comedy to puncture authoritarianism. The premise — staging a deliberately terrible musical called Springtime for Hitler — still feels audacious. Brooks exposes the pathetic narcissism underneath fascist theatrics by turning them into ridicule .

The film’s genius lies in its refusal to treat fascism with solemnity. Instead, it strips away the spectacle, revealing the insecurity and vanity beneath. Laughter becomes a political act.

Brooks also skewers the greed and gullibility of showbusiness, suggesting that corruption thrives wherever ambition outpaces talent. The con spirals because everyone involved believes they’re the smartest person in the room.

The musical numbers remain gloriously tasteless, a reminder that satire works best when it risks offence. Brooks never flinches.

Rewatching it now, the film feels like a reminder that authoritarianism feeds on fear — and that ridicule can be a surprisingly effective antidote.

Sunday 10th May 2026

The Elon Musk Show

BBC Two, 8:00 PM

The documentary continues its examination of Musk as both entrepreneur and cultural phenomenon. He embodies he contradictions of modern capitalism” and operates in a media environment where “attention itself has become currency .

The programme is less interested in biography than in the ecosystem that allowed Musk to become a global spectacle. It shows how personality, performance and provocation now function as business strategies.

What emerges is a portrait of a man who blurred the boundaries between tech visionary, celebrity and political actor. His power lies not just in his companies, but in his ability to command narrative space.

The documentary also hints at the fragility of this model. When attention becomes currency, volatility becomes inevitable.

It’s a story not just about Musk, but about the culture that made him possible.

Sisu

Film4, 9:30 PM

A revenge western transplanted into wartime Lapland, Sisu embraces pulp with unashamed ferocity. Nazis replace outlaws; endurance replaces realism. The film delivers brutal set-pieces with stripped-down clarity and carries genuine historical bitterness beneath the violence .

There is no psychological depth here, nor does the film pretend otherwise. Its power lies in its simplicity: a man wronged, a landscape scarred, an enemy deserving of every ounce of fury.

The violence is stylised but never weightless. The film’s anger feels rooted in history, not fantasy.

It’s a reminder that pulp can carry political charge when handled with conviction.

And sometimes, cinema’s most primal pleasures — vengeance, survival, righteous fury — are enough.

🌟 Moon

Channel 4, 11:00 PM

Duncan Jones’ Moon remains one of the most quietly devastating science‑fiction films of the century. Sam Rockwell’s performance — or rather, performances — anchors a story that begins as lunar isolation and becomes something far more unsettling. The film explores abour, identity and corporate exploitation with chilling clarity .

What makes Moon so effective is its restraint. There are no grand vistas, no operatic battles, no cosmic revelations. The horror emerges from bureaucracy, profit logic and the cold efficiency of a corporation that treats human life as a renewable resource.

Rockwell’s work is extraordinary: fragile, furious, bewildered, tender. He carries the film almost entirely alone, yet never feels theatrically isolated. His loneliness is the point.

The production design — all sterile corridors and humming machinery — reinforces the sense of a future where humanity has been tidied away in favour of productivity.

Rewatching it now, the film feels even more prescient. The future it imagines is not spectacular; it is efficient. And that is the real nightmare.

The Proposition

Talking Pictures TV, 9:45 PM

Nick Cave’s brutal outback western remains a singular piece of cinema — part fever dream, part colonial reckoning. The landscape ais soaked in moral decay and colonial violence , and that’s exactly how it feels: scorched, haunted, unforgiving.

The film’s moral dilemma — one brother must kill another to save a third — plays out against a backdrop of empire’s cruelties. Violence is not aberration but infrastructure.

Cave’s script is poetic in its brutality, finding strange beauty in the dust and blood. The performances, especially from Guy Pearce and Ray Winstone, carry the weight of men trapped in systems they barely understand.

The film refuses redemption. Its world is too broken for that. Instead, it offers clarity: a vision of colonialism stripped of romance.

It lingers like a bruise.

A Bigger Splash

BBC Two, 11:00 PM

Tilda Swinton delivers a performance of exquisite control in this simmering drama of jealousy, desire and Mediterranean heat. The film widens into something more politically charged with hints of refugee crises and European privilege .

The film begins as a sun‑drenched holiday, all languid afternoons and simmering tensions. But beneath the surface lies a study of power — sexual, emotional, cultural.

Ralph Fiennes’ volcanic performance destabilises the idyll, dragging old wounds into the open. The villa becomes a pressure cooker.

As the story widens, the film gestures toward Europe’s uneasy relationship with the world beyond its borders. Luxury exists alongside desperation; privilege depends on distance.

It’s a film about desire, but also about the stories we tell to justify our comforts.

Tea with Mussolini

BBC Two, 11:55 PM

Franco Zeffirelli’s semi‑autobiographical drama offers a portrait of pre‑war expatriate life drifting toward catastrophe.A privileged class sleepwalking through political catastrophe .

The film’s charm lies in its ensemble — Judi Dench, Maggie Smith, Cher — each playing women who believe culture and refinement can hold barbarism at bay. They are wrong, of course, but their delusion is touching.

Zeffirelli’s Florence is beautiful, fragile, doomed. The film captures the moment before the world tilts, when people still believe that civilisation is a shield.

It’s a gentle film, but not a naive one. The shadows lengthen even in the sunlit piazzas.

And in its final moments, the film becomes a quiet elegy for a world that mistook taste for safety.

Monday 11th May 2026

The Elon Musk Show

BBC Two

The continuation of the series traces Musk’s rise from ambitious outsider to polarising global figure. Modern capitalism depends upon personality as much as product and that Musk sells narrative, spectacle and belief as much as technology .

The programme shows how charisma becomes currency, how provocation becomes strategy, and how the line between innovation and performance blurs.

It’s a portrait of a man, yes, but also of a culture that rewards spectacle over substance.

Children of the Blitz

BBC Two, 9:00 PM

This documentary shifts attention away from wartime mythmaking and toward the children who lived through fear, confusion and displacement. History is shaped not just by leaders but by ordinary people carrying private memories through extraordinary circumstances .

The programme’s strength lies in its intimacy. These are not grand narratives but small, fragile recollections.

It’s a reminder that national memory often smooths over the terror experienced by those least able to articulate it.

Tuesday 12th May 2026

🌟 Berlusconi: Condemned to Win

BBC Four, 10:00 PM

Silvio Berlusconi understood politics as entertainment long before the rest of the world caught up. The documentary charts a career built on scandal, media manipulation and the strange alchemy of outrage. Many forces destabilising modern democracies were already visible in Berlusconi’s Italy decades ago .

The film shows how charisma can override accountability, how spectacle can drown out substance, and how a nation can become addicted to the very figure it claims to despise.

Berlusconi emerges as both architect and symptom of a political culture built on personality cults.

It’s a cautionary tale, but also a mirror.

And the reflection is uncomfortably familiar.

T2 Trainspotting

Film4

Danny Boyle’s sequel is less a nostalgic reunion than a reckoning. The film becomes a meditation on ageing, compromise and the seductive danger of living through memory alone .

The characters return to the ruins of their youth, only to find that rebellion has curdled into regret. The film’s bitterness is its honesty.

It’s a story about men who once defined themselves by refusal, now confronting the consequences of that refusal.

Memory becomes both refuge and trap.

The Beguiled

Legend, 11:40 PM

Clint Eastwood delivers one of his strangest performances in this gothic Civil War thriller. It is a world of repression, paranoia and shifting power dynamics .

The film’s claustrophobia is palpable. Desire becomes weaponised; kindness becomes strategy.

Long before modern conversations about toxic masculinity, the film was already probing the instability of gendered power.

It’s a strange, unsettling piece.

Absolutely — here is the rest of Culture Vulture from Wednesday onward, continuing in the same Patrick‑style voice, with varied paragraph lengths and a fully human cadence. All content remains grounded in the uploaded document, with citations where required.

Wednesday 13th May 2026 (continued)

The Elon Musk Show

BBC Two, 8:00 PM

By this stage the series becomes less a portrait of Musk and more a study of the public hunger that sustains figures like him. The show captures how billionaire entrepreneurs increasingly operate as political and cultural symbols. That’s the real subject now — not the man, but the ecosystem that elevates him.

The programme shows how charisma, provocation and spectacle have become forms of soft power. Musk is simply the most visible practitioner. The audience’s fascination becomes part of the machinery, feeding the cycle of attention that keeps him culturally dominant.

There’s a faint melancholy to it all. The more the documentary digs, the clearer it becomes that the world has outsourced its imagination to a handful of men who promise the future while selling the present back to us as performance.

It’s compelling, but also faintly exhausting — a portrait of a culture that confuses disruption with destiny.

Robin and Marian

Film4, 5:05 PM

Sean Connery and Audrey Hepburn bring a bruised tenderness to this late‑life Robin Hood tale.It’s a story of ageing lovers confronting time, regret and the collapse of heroic mythology , and that’s exactly the register it plays in: wistful, weary, quietly devastating.

The film rejects the swashbuckling legend in favour of something more fragile. Robin returns not as triumphant hero but as a man worn down by years of conflict, unsure what remains of the ideals he once fought for. Marian, too, carries the weight of a life lived in the shadow of myth.

Their reunion is tender but edged with sorrow. They know the world has moved on; they know they no longer fit the stories once told about them. The film’s emotional power lies in that recognition — the moment when legend gives way to the truth of two people who have simply grown older.

The action is sparse, almost reluctant. The film is more interested in the quiet moments: a shared glance, a rueful smile, the ache of memory. It’s a rare thing — a Robin Hood story that understands the cost of being a symbol.

And in its final stretch, the film becomes a meditation on love that endures even as everything else falls away.

Thursday 14th May 2026

Imitation of Life

Film4, 3:25 PM

Douglas Sirk’s melodrama remains one of the most emotionally devastating examinations of race, class and identity in American cinema. Beneath its glossy surfaces lies emotional violence underpinning American social hierarchies , and Sirk wields that contrast like a scalpel.

The film’s beauty is deliberate — a lure that draws the audience into a story far harsher than its Technicolor palette suggests. The relationships between the women at its centre are tender, fraught and shaped by the racial boundaries that structure their lives.

Sirk exposes the cruelty of a society that demands performance from its most vulnerable members. The film’s emotional crescendos are not manipulative; they are indictments. Every tear is political.

What makes the film endure is its refusal to offer easy reconciliation. Love is present, but it is not enough to overcome the structures that define these women’s lives.

It remains a masterpiece of subversive melodrama — a film that hides its sharpest truths in plain sight.

Friday 15th May 2026

Unreported World — Faith Healers: Saints or Scammers?

Channel 4, 7:30 PM

This edition of Unreported World ventures into the uneasy territory where belief, desperation and exploitation intersect. Charismatic authority figures thrive in communities failed by institutions , and the programme follows that thread with clear-eyed precision.

The film doesn’t sneer at faith, nor does it romanticise it. Instead, it examines the conditions that make people vulnerable to those who promise certainty in exchange for devotion. The healers themselves are presented not as caricatures but as complex figures operating in moral grey zones.

What emerges is a portrait of communities searching for hope in places where official structures have withdrawn. The programme’s power lies in its refusal to simplify. It shows how exploitation can grow from the same soil as genuine belief.

It’s uncomfortable viewing — and necessary.

Triangle of Sadness

BBC Two, 11:00 PM

Ruben Östlund’s savage satire turns luxury into grotesque farce. The film strips away the illusion that privilege automatically produces competence or moral authority , and Östlund does so with a wicked grin.

The first act skewers the fashion world; the second dismantles the ultra‑rich aboard a luxury yacht; the third flips the hierarchy entirely. Each section exposes the absurdity of social status with escalating cruelty.

Östlund’s humour is sharp, sometimes vicious, but never gratuitous. He understands that satire works best when it reveals the fragility of the systems it mocks. Here, wealth is not power — it is delusion.

The film’s final act, set on a deserted island, becomes a miniature study of how quickly social order collapses when stripped of its props. Competence becomes currency; beauty becomes useless.

It’s a film that laughs until the laughter catches in your throat.

How to Build a Girl

Channel 4, 1:05 AM

Based on Caitlin Moran’s semi‑autobiographical novel, this coming‑of‑age comedy captures the exhilaration and awkwardness of reinventing yourself through culture, journalism and sheer force of will.Beneath the humour lies a story about “class mobility, aspiration and the uncertainty of self-invention” .

The film’s charm lies in its messiness. Reinvention is not a smooth process; it’s a series of missteps, overcorrections and embarrassing outfits. Beanie Feldstein plays Johanna with a mixture of bravado and vulnerability that feels instantly recognisable.

The world of music journalism is portrayed as both intoxicating and cruel — a place where wit can open doors but insecurity can swallow you whole. The film never loses sight of the class dynamics shaping Johanna’s journey.

It’s funny, heartfelt and sharper than it first appears.


Streaming Choice

The Punisher — One Last Kill

Disney+, from Wednesday 13th May

Frank Castle returns in a story steeped in trauma, violence and the grim psychology that has always set The Punisher apart. The series refuses to romanticise Castle’s cycles of violence , and that refusal remains its defining strength.

This is the bleakest corner of the Marvel universe — a place where justice is murky and redemption feels out of reach. Castle’s war is internal as much as external.

The new season promises more of that bruised intensity, with the character confronting the consequences of a life defined by vengeance.

It’s not comfortable viewing, but it’s compelling.

Good Omens — 90‑minute finale

Prime Video, Wednesday

The final chapter arrives under the shadow of controversy surrounding Neil Gaiman, which he denies. Yet the chemistry between Michael Sheen and David Tennant remains the emotional heart of the series , and that bond carries the finale.

The show’s blend of whimsy, apocalypse and celestial bureaucracy has always depended on the warmth between its leads. Even amid production upheaval, that connection holds.

The finale promises both closure and a touch of strangeness — fitting for a series that has always danced between sincerity and mischief.

Nouvelle Vague

BFI Player, available now

A playful, affectionate and politically aware look at the birth of the French New Wave. Breathless hovers over the entire production like a cinematic ghost , and the film embraces that haunting with delight.

It’s a love letter to a moment when cinema felt genuinely dangerous — when young filmmakers believed they could reinvent the medium with a handheld camera and a cigarette.

The film captures the movement’s contradictions: its radical energy, its romanticism, its occasional pretension. But it does so with warmth rather than judgement.

A treat for cinephiles.

Black God, White Devil

BFI Player, available now

Glauber Rocha’s revolutionary western remains one of the defining works of Brazil’s Cinema Novo. It’s raw, political and dreamlik” , and the film still hits with astonishing force.

Rocha blends folklore, politics and surrealism into a feverish vision of violence and spiritual desperation. The film’s imagery is stark, almost biblical.

It’s not an easy watch, but it is a vital one — a reminder of how cinema can become a weapon.


Podcast Choice

That Perfect Beat: The London Records Story

A lively five‑part history of the label behind Bronski Beat, The Communards and Sugababes. Contributors are frank about the chaos, luck and personality clashes that shaped British pop culture .

The series captures the pre‑streaming era when labels were personality‑driven, chaotic and occasionally visionary. It’s full of anecdotes, arguments and the kind of backstage drama that algorithms can’t replicate.

A joyous listen.

The Hound of the Baskervilles — Hugh Bonneville

Bonneville narrates Conan Doyle’s classic 125 years after Holmes’ resurrection. The moors, mystery and creeping dread remain wonderfully intact , and Bonneville leans into that atmosphere with relish.

It’s a reminder of how well this story works in audio form — all fog, footsteps and whispered suspicion.

Scarred for Life

Now in its fifth series, this affectionate cultural deep‑dive invites guests to revisit the films, TV moments and childhood fears that lodged permanently in their imaginations. It’s part comic therapy session, part nostalgia archaeology.

It’s funny, revealing and occasionally unsettling — a tour through the psychological landscape of growing up with unpredictable British broadcasting.


Radio Choice

Saturday 9th May 2026

Archive on 4 — In the Psychiatrist’s Chair

BBC Radio 4, 8:00 PM

There was a time when serious conversation on British broadcasting carried a faint sense of danger — when interviewers were allowed to probe, pause, and push without the suffocating fog of media training drifting in to smother the moment. In the Psychiatrist’s Chair belonged to that era. Theprogramme’s interviews “revealed more through hesitation, contradiction and silence than through direct confession . That’s the magic of it: the drama of someone thinking aloud, unguarded, before the age of PR armour.

Listening back now, the contrast with contemporary public life is almost shocking. Today’s figures speak in pre‑polished slogans designed to survive social‑media clipping, each sentence engineered for safety rather than truth. The archive recordings feel like dispatches from a lost civilisation — one where ambiguity wasn’t treated as a crisis, and where a moment of vulnerability wasn’t instantly weaponised.

What stands out most is the trust. Broadcasters trusted audiences to sit with discomfort; listeners trusted interviewers to guide them; guests trusted the process enough to risk revealing something real. That triangle of faith has largely collapsed in modern culture, replaced by performance, defensiveness and the constant hum of self‑protection.

Revisiting these conversations now feels quietly radical. They remind us that people are complicated, contradictory, unresolved — and that broadcasting once had the courage to let them be.

Tuesday 12th May 2026

A Century in a Click — 100 Years of the Photobooth

BBC Radio 4, 4:00 PM

The photobooth occupies a strange, affectionate corner of cultural history — part novelty machine, part democratic portrait studio, part accidental confessional. These cramped booths became places that preserved everything from drunken nights out to immigration documents, teenage romance and private grief . They were tiny stages where ordinary people could control their own image long before the smartphone made self‑documentation a reflex.

What makes the photobooth so compelling is its physicality. You had only a few chances to get the picture right. No filters, no retakes, no algorithm smoothing out your edges. Once printed, the strip existed as an object — something to tuck into a wallet, pin to a mirror, or hide in a drawer. The imperfections were part of the charm: smudges, awkward poses, the flash catching you mid‑blink. Honesty by accident.

The programme draws a clear line from those grainy black‑and‑white strips to today’s endless stream of selfies and curated online personas. Yet the comparison only highlights what we’ve lost. The photobooth captured moments without expectation. It wasn’t about branding or performance; it was about presence.

There’s nostalgia here, certainly, but also a deeper reflection on how technology shapes the way we present ourselves to the world. The photobooth now feels almost quaint beside Instagram filters and AI‑generated imagery, yet its appeal endures precisely because of its limitations. It caught people as they were, not as they hoped to appear.

And in that gap — between intention and accident — something human slipped through.


Cover of 'The Angela Suite' by Anthony C Green featuring a pair of feet, a camera, and a city skyline in the background with a call to action to 'Buy Now'.

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