This week’s viewing is haunted—in the best possible sense—by history. Whether it is the grandeur and eventual collapse of Ancient Rome, the moral shadows of the Second World War, the raw psychological scars left by terrorism, or the enduring power of great music and cinema, broadcasters have assembled an unusually rich schedule that rewards curiosity as much as simple entertainment.
There is also a striking thread running through the week’s selections: the stories we tell ourselves. Monster and Taxi Driver challenge our assumptions about truth and perception; documentaries revisit the Gunpowder Plot, the Roman Empire and one of the defining terrorist conspiracies of the modern age; while streaming services continue to mine history, fashion, crime and horror for fresh audiences.
Three recommendations stand above the rest. BBC Two’s tribute to the late Bonnie Tyler celebrates one of Britain’s most distinctive rock voices. Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver remains one of the greatest American films ever made and is perfectly complemented by BBC Four’s evening celebrating cinema of the 1970s. History enthusiasts, meanwhile, are spoilt with Roman documentaries, Lucy Worsley’s latest investigation and Ken Burns’ magnificent explorations of the American past.
Saturday 25 July
1.05pm – BBC Two – High Society (1956)
There’s a certain magic in High Society that refuses to fade, no matter how many decades pass. Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra glide through Cole Porter’s melodies with effortless charm, their voices weaving a kind of urbane spell that feels both playful and timeless. Grace Kelly, poised and luminous, gives her final performance before stepping into royalty — and that knowledge lends every glance, every smile, a quiet ache beneath the glamour.
Louis Armstrong’s presence lifts the film beyond its polished veneer, injecting warmth and swing into Newport’s highbrow world. The jazz sequences sparkle with spontaneity, a reminder that sophistication needn’t be stiff. Porter’s songs — “True Love,” “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?” — still shimmer with wit and longing, as if written yesterday.
It’s a film that dances between elegance and emotion, champagne and sincerity. The satin gowns, the clipped dialogue, the easy rhythm of its music — all combine into a portrait of Hollywood grace at its peak. Watching it now, you sense not nostalgia but continuity: a reminder that style, when married to heart, never truly goes out of fashion.
2.50pm – BBC Two – Casablanca (1942)
Every so often, a film earns the right to be called a masterpiece — Casablanca is one of those rare few. Humphrey Bogart’s weary cynicism and Ingrid Bergman’s luminous grace create a chemistry that feels almost mythic, as if the camera caught lightning in a bottle. Michael Curtiz directs with a precision that never shows its seams, letting the story unfold with the inevitability of fate and the tenderness of memory.
The setting — wartime Morocco, a crossroads of refugees, spies and dreamers — hums with tension and longing. Every line seems carved from history, every shadow charged with meaning. “Here’s looking at you, kid” isn’t just a farewell; it’s a benediction, a promise that love can survive even when the world is falling apart.
What makes Casablanca endure isn’t nostalgia but truth. Beneath the trench coats and cigarette smoke lies a moral clarity: the idea that doing the right thing may cost you everything, yet still be worth it. If you’ve never seen it, this is the moment to surrender to its spell — because some stories don’t just belong to cinema; they belong to us all.
8.30pm – BBC Two – Bonnie Tyler at the BBC
Bonnie Tyler, her music lives on. Picture credit: S. Kuelcue / Shutterstock.com
In the wake of Bonnie Tyler’s recent death, this tribute feels heavier than it otherwise might — not sombre, but weighted with the kind of reflection that arrives when a voice you assumed would always be there suddenly isn’t. The BBC digs into its archive and, in doing so, reminds you just how unmistakable she was. That rasp wasn’t a stylistic choice or a studio trick; it was her — lived‑in, weathered, defiant, capable of cutting straight through the gloss of any era.
Watching her early performances, you see the grit before the global fame, the way It’s a Heartache carried a rawness that set her apart from the polished pop of the late ’70s. Then comes the full‑throttle theatricality of Total Eclipse of the Heart, a song so outsized it could have swallowed a lesser singer whole. Tyler didn’t just survive it — she owned it, turning bombast into something strangely intimate.
This compilation charts a career that never really fit into neat categories. She could be pop, rock, power ballad, Eurovision, all at once, and still sound entirely like herself. Now, with her gone, these performances land differently: not just nostalgia, but a reminder of how rare it is for an artist to carve out a sound that can’t be mistaken for anyone else.
It’s a celebration, yes — but also a farewell to a voice that once filled stadiums and still somehow felt like it was singing directly to you.
9.00pm – Channel 4 – Gran Turismo (2023)
What sounds, on paper, like the most improbable of true stories turns out to be one of those sports dramas that sneaks up on you. Gran Turismo takes a teenager who mastered racing lines on a console and drops him into the brutal, unforgiving world of professional motorsport — and somehow makes that leap feel not just plausible, but thrilling.
The film has a glossy sheen, all high‑speed tracking shots and immaculate race sequences, but beneath the polish there’s a surprisingly grounded emotional core. You feel the weight of the risks, the sheer physicality of the sport, and the stubborn determination required to prove that a gamer can hold his own against seasoned drivers who’ve lived their entire lives on the track.
It’s slick, yes, but not hollow. The racing is exhilarating, the human story sincere, and the whole thing carries a pulse of genuine heart that keeps it from drifting into mere brand exercise. By the time the final lap arrives, you’re not thinking about the improbability of the premise — you’re simply caught up in the momentum of someone refusing to accept the limits placed on them.
10.20pm – BBC One – Gladiator (2000)
Ridley Scott’s Gladiator didn’t just revive the sword‑and‑sandal epic — it reshaped it, giving the genre a muscular emotional core it had rarely possessed. More than two decades on, the film still hits with the force of a battering ram. Russell Crowe’s Maximus remains one of those performances that seems carved from granite: stoic, wounded, driven by a sense of honour that feels almost archaic now, yet utterly compelling on screen.
The opening battle still crackles with energy, all smoke, mud and chaos, a reminder of how Scott can marshal spectacle without losing sight of character. And then there’s Hans Zimmer’s score — that soaring, mournful blend of orchestral heft and Lisa Gerrard’s haunting vocals. It’s the kind of music that doesn’t just accompany a film; it inhabits it, shaping the emotional landscape as surely as the Colosseum’s towering walls.
What keeps Gladiator alive, though, isn’t the scale but the sincerity. Beneath the armour and the bloodshed lies a story about loyalty, grief and the stubborn refusal to bow to corruption. It’s grand, yes, but never hollow — a blockbuster with a beating heart, still capable of stirring something deep even after countless re‑watches.
10.25pm – BBC Four – Monster (2023)
Hirokazu Kore‑eda has a gift for stories that unfold quietly, then suddenly take hold of you — and Monster might be his most intricate yet. It begins as one thing, then becomes another, then something else again, each shift peeling back another layer of assumption. What looks, at first glance, like a simple tale of a troubled schoolboy gradually reveals itself as a knot of perspectives, each one sincere, each one incomplete.
The film’s structure — replaying key events from different viewpoints — inevitably recalls Rashomon, but Kore‑eda uses the device with a gentler touch. Instead of dramatic reversals, you get slow realisations, the kind that make you sit back and reconsider everything you thought you understood. Adults misread children; children misread adults; everyone misreads everyone. Prejudice, fear and the urge to protect collide, and the truth emerges not as a single revelation but as a fragile, human mosaic.
By the time the final act arrives, the emotional weight is unmistakable. Kore‑eda isn’t interested in villains or heroes — only in the damage caused when people cling too tightly to their own version of events. It’s beautifully acted, beautifully judged, and quietly devastating.
Sunday 26 July
1.00pm–8.00pm – Sky History – Rome: Rise and Fall of an Empire
An entire afternoon given over to the drama of ancient Rome is never time wasted. This series traces the city’s ascent with a storyteller’s instinct for momentum — legions pushing outward, generals carving their names into the map, and politicians sharpening their ambitions in the Senate’s shadow. You get the sweep of conquest, the theatre of intrigue, and the sheer audacity of an empire that believed its dominion would last forever.
What keeps it compelling is the way the programme shifts from triumph to fragility. The cracks appear slowly at first: overstretched borders, corrupt leadership, internal rivalries that fester until they become fatal. By the time the fall arrives, it feels less like a single event and more like a long, inevitable unravelling.
For anyone fascinated by the ancient world — its grandeur, its brutality, its lessons — this is richly satisfying viewing. It’s history presented with pace and clarity, the kind that leaves you thinking about how power rises, how it slips away, and how even the mightiest empires are never as permanent as they believe.
2.00pm – Sky Cinema Premiere – Eleanor the Great (2025)
This is one of those dramas that doesn’t shout for attention but earns it quietly, scene by scene. Eleanor the Great follows an older woman who refuses to accept the soft fade society expects of her — and the film treats that determination not as a grand rebellion, but as something tender, stubborn and deeply human.
There’s a warmth to it that never tips into sentimentality. You watch Eleanor navigate the small indignities and unexpected freedoms of later life, and the story unfolds with a kind of gentle confidence, trusting character over spectacle. The film’s strength lies in its detail: the pauses in conversation, the flicker of doubt before a decision, the sudden spark of joy when she realises she can still shape her own future.
It’s humane, understated and quietly defiant — the sort of mid‑afternoon premiere that leaves you thinking about the ways people reinvent themselves long after the world has stopped paying attention.
7.00pm – ITV1 – Force of Nature
(Box set on ITVX)
ITV’s latest wildlife series arrives with the kind of polish you expect from a Sunday‑night centrepiece, but what gives Force of Nature its pull is the sheer scale of what it captures. This isn’t a gentle amble through picturesque scenery; it’s a front‑row seat to the raw mechanics of the natural world, where survival is a daily negotiation and beauty often comes laced with danger.
Each episode zeroes in on a different environment, letting the drama emerge organically from the creatures that inhabit it. Predators stalk with unnerving patience, herds move like living weather systems, and the camera lingers just long enough to show how fragile the balance can be. There’s a rhythm to the storytelling — moments of stillness followed by bursts of tension — that keeps the series from feeling like a mere showcase of impressive shots.
The production values are unmistakably ITV: crisp visuals, sweeping aerials, and narration that guides rather than intrudes. It’s designed to appeal broadly, but it never talks down to its audience. Instead, it leans into the emotional weight of watching nature operate on its own terms, reminding you how much drama exists without a script.
As Sunday‑night viewing, it’s both soothing and gripping — a glossy, immersive wildlife programme that earns its place in the schedule by simply letting the natural world speak for itself.
8.00pm – BBC Four – John Wilson at the Proms
The Sinfonia of London performs Verdi’s exhilarating La Forza del Destino Overture, Walton’s lyrical Cello Concerto and Respighi’s dazzling Roman Trilogy. A rich evening for lovers of orchestral music.
8.00pm – BBC Four – Searching for Sam: Adrian Dunbar on Samuel Beckett
Adrian Dunbar explores the life and work of fellow Irishman Samuel Beckett, tracing the experiences that shaped one of the twentieth century’s most influential playwrights. Affectionate, thoughtful and illuminating.
8.00pm – Sky History – The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire (1 of 2)
Continuing the day’s Roman theme, this documentary examines how the greatest empire of antiquity gradually succumbed to internal decay and external pressure.
9.00pm – BBC One – The Rapture (Part One)
(Box set on BBC iPlayer)
BBC One’s The Rapture opens its two‑night run with the kind of confidence that marks a genuine flagship drama. From the first scenes, it’s clear the BBC is aiming big: mystery, emotional tension, and a slow, unsettling sense that something is fundamentally wrong beneath the surface of ordinary life.
Part One introduces the central hook with admirable restraint. A sudden, unexplained global event — a moment of mass disappearance that leaves communities fractured and terrified — becomes the catalyst for the story. People vanish without warning, leaving those left behind scrambling for answers. The drama follows several characters trying to make sense of what’s happened: a mother searching for her missing son, a journalist piecing together contradictory accounts, and officials who seem as bewildered as everyone else. The plot doesn’t rush to explain the phenomenon; instead, it lets the confusion and fear settle in, giving the audience space to feel the shock alongside the characters.
Visually, the production has that moody BBC sheen: wide, atmospheric shots, a colour palette that shifts between domestic warmth and creeping dread, and a score that tightens its grip as the episode progresses. The direction favours stillness — long pauses, lingering looks — which makes the moments of panic land harder.
What elevates The Rapture beyond standard disaster drama is its emotional focus. The suspense grows out of human reactions: guilt, denial, desperation, the instinct to cling to any explanation that might make the world feel coherent again. The script understands that the real drama isn’t the event itself, but the way people respond when the rules of reality suddenly stop behaving.
As an opener, Part One is gripping, unsettling and impressively controlled. It sets up the mystery without overplaying it, builds characters you want to follow, and leaves you with the unmistakable sense that the real answers — and the real shocks — are waiting in Part Two. With the full box set already on iPlayer, resisting the urge to continue immediately will be difficult.
10.00pm – Channel 4 – The Forgiven (2021)
John Michael McDonagh’s The Forgiven is a drama that begins with a single catastrophic mistake and then spends the rest of its running time circling the moral fallout with a cold, unblinking eye. Ralph Fiennes and Jessica Chastain play David and Jo Henninger, a wealthy, brittle couple travelling to a lavish weekend party in the Moroccan desert. On the drive there, David — drunk, irritable, and catastrophically careless — hits and kills a young local man. That moment becomes the film’s hinge: everything that follows is shaped by the collision between privilege and accountability, guilt and denial, Western detachment and local expectation.
The party they eventually arrive at is a bubble of decadence, hosted by Richard (Matt Smith) and Dally (Caleb Landry Jones), whose guests treat the accident as an inconvenience rather than a tragedy. McDonagh uses this setting to expose the casual cruelty of people insulated by wealth — the way they rationalise, minimise, and ultimately distance themselves from the consequences of their actions. Fiennes is superb as David, a man who initially tries to shrug off responsibility but slowly, almost unwillingly, begins to confront the enormity of what he’s done. Chastain, meanwhile, plays Jo with a cool detachment that gradually fractures as the moral pressure builds.
The film’s most compelling thread comes when the victim’s father arrives, insisting David accompany him to the remote village for the burial. What follows is not a revenge narrative but a cultural reckoning: a journey that forces David to face a community whose grief is real, whose anger is justified, and whose expectations of honour and restitution are far removed from the partygoers’ blasé worldview. The Moroccan landscape — harsh, vast, unforgiving — becomes an extension of the film’s themes, dwarfing the characters and stripping away their pretences.
McDonagh’s script is sharp, cynical and morally probing. He’s less interested in neat resolutions than in the uncomfortable spaces where guilt, arrogance and cultural misunderstanding collide. The film refuses to let its characters off the hook, yet it also avoids simplistic moral binaries. Everyone is compromised; everyone is flawed; everyone is, in some way, implicated.
The Forgiven is not a thriller in the conventional sense — its tension comes from character rather than plot — but it’s gripping, unsettling and quietly devastating. A drama that exposes the rot beneath privilege and asks what forgiveness really means when the damage cannot be undone.
10.00pm – BBC Two – Taxi Driver (1976)
Nearly fifty years on, Taxi Driver still feels like a live wire — a film that hasn’t dulled, softened or lost its sting. Martin Scorsese’s portrait of urban isolation remains one of the defining works of American cinema, a study of a man slipping through the cracks of society until the cracks become chasms.
Robert De Niro’s Travis Bickle is the centre of that descent: a Vietnam veteran turned New York cabbie, prowling the city’s night streets with a gaze that’s equal parts fascination and disgust. De Niro’s performance is extraordinary in its restraint — the quiet, simmering unease, the clipped speech, the sense of a man trying to impose order on a world he no longer understands. Travis is unsettling not because he is monstrous, but because he is recognisably human, his alienation built from small, painfully ordinary moments.
Scorsese’s New York is a character in its own right: neon‑soaked, grimy, restless, a city that seems to sweat. The camera glides through it like a ghost, observing rather than judging, letting the environment press in on Travis until his worldview becomes claustrophobic. Bernard Herrmann’s final score — completed just before his death — adds a mournful, jazzy tension that perfectly matches the film’s mood.
The supporting cast deepens the film’s complexity. Jodie Foster, astonishingly young, brings a raw vulnerability to Iris, the teenage sex worker Travis fixates on saving. Cybill Shepherd’s Betsy represents a different kind of unreachable ideal — a symbol of normality Travis longs for but cannot inhabit. Their interactions reveal the gulf between Travis’s fantasies and the reality around him.
What makes Taxi Driver endure is its refusal to offer easy answers. It’s a film about loneliness, rage, delusion and the dangerous allure of self‑appointed heroism. Scorsese doesn’t moralise; he simply shows a man spiralling and a society unable — or unwilling — to notice.
The final act remains one of cinema’s most debated sequences, a violent eruption that is both cathartic and deeply troubling. Even now, Travis Bickle continues to unsettle, his story echoing through decades of cultural conversation about masculinity, alienation and the thin line between vigilante and victim.
A masterpiece of mood, character and moral ambiguity — and still, after all these years, a film that refuses to let you look away.
10.20pm – ITV1 – Terror in the Skies: Stopping the Liquid Bomb Plot
(Catch up on ITVX)
For nearly twenty years travellers have accepted strict limits on carrying liquids through airport security, often without knowing the extraordinary story behind them. This documentary revisits the 2006 investigation that uncovered an alleged conspiracy to destroy multiple transatlantic airliners using liquid explosives concealed in drinks bottles. Through archive footage and first-hand testimony, it explains how one counter-terrorism operation transformed air travel around the world.
11.50pm – BBC Two – The Elephant Man (1980)
David Lynch’s profoundly humane portrait of Joseph Merrick balances visual beauty with emotional power. John Hurt and Anthony Hopkins deliver performances of extraordinary compassion.
12.15am – Channel 4 – Stand by Me (1986)
Rob Reiner’s adaptation of Stephen King’s novella captures childhood friendship with warmth, humour and heartbreaking honesty. Every viewing reminds you why it has become a modern classic.
Monday 27 July
9.00pm – BBC One – The Rapture (Part Two)
(Catch up on BBC iPlayer)
The concluding instalment of the BBC’s ambitious drama brings together the threads established the previous evening. Without giving too much away, the series proves less interested in easy shocks than in the emotional consequences of extraordinary events. Intelligent mainstream drama that trusts its audience.
9.00pm – Sky Cinema Drama – Passing (2021)
Rebecca Hall’s Passing is one of the most quietly devastating films of the past few years — a work of remarkable restraint, emotional intelligence and formal beauty. Adapting Nella Larsen’s 1929 Harlem Renaissance novel, Hall crafts a drama that feels both period‑precise and piercingly modern, exploring race, identity and the fragile performances people adopt to survive in a divided society.
The story centres on two childhood friends whose adult lives have diverged in stark, unsettling ways. Tessa Thompson plays Irene, a middle‑class Black woman navigating the social world of 1920s Harlem with careful composure. Ruth Negga is Clare, dazzling, impulsive and living a life built on a dangerous lie: she has chosen to pass as white, marrying a wealthy white man who is oblivious to her heritage. Their reunion sets off a slow, intimate unraveling — a dance of fascination, envy and unease that grows more charged with each encounter.
Hall’s direction is exquisite. Shot in luminous black and white, the film uses its visual palette not as a stylistic flourish but as a thematic anchor. The contrasts — light and shadow, clarity and obscurity — echo the characters’ inner conflicts. The 4:3 aspect ratio tightens the frame, creating a sense of emotional confinement that mirrors Irene’s increasingly brittle state of mind. Every composition feels deliberate, every silence weighted.
Thompson and Negga are superb. Thompson gives Irene a controlled, almost fragile dignity, a woman trying to maintain order in a world that keeps shifting beneath her feet. Negga, by contrast, is radiant and unsettling — Clare’s charm is irresistible, but there’s a desperation beneath it, a longing for belonging that makes her choices both understandable and tragic. Their scenes together crackle with tension, affection and something harder to name.
What makes Passing so powerful is its subtlety. Hall avoids melodrama, letting the emotional stakes build through glances, pauses, and the unspoken fears that accumulate between the two women. The film understands that identity is never fixed, that belonging can be both a refuge and a trap, and that the cost of reinvention can be devastating.
It’s a delicate, haunting piece of work — a film that lingers long after it ends, not because of any single dramatic moment, but because of the quiet ache running through every frame.
Tuesday 28 July
8.00pm – Sky Atlantic – The Vampire Lestat
Anne Rice’s immortal anti-hero finally steps further into the spotlight. Lavishly produced and unapologetically gothic, this continuation of the Interview with the Vampire universe revels in decadent performances, dark romance and centuries of intrigue. Fans of intelligent supernatural drama should feel very much at home.
9.00pm – Sky Atlantic – Gomorrah: The Origins
The acclaimed Neapolitan crime saga turns back the clock to examine the formative years of the criminal empire that shaped the original series. Expect moral ambiguity, relentless tension and an unflinching portrait of organised crime. If the standard matches its predecessor, this could become essential viewing.
9.00pm – BBC Four – The Madness of King George (1994)
Nicholas Hytner’s adaptation of Alan Bennett’s celebrated play remains one of the crown jewels of British historical cinema — a film that balances wit, sorrow and political sharpness with extraordinary finesse. Nearly three decades on, it still feels fresh, lively and emotionally piercing.
Nigel Hawthorne delivers a magnificent performance as George III, capturing the monarch’s eccentric charm, his flashes of sharp intelligence, and the heartbreaking unraveling that follows his descent into mental illness. Hawthorne’s portrayal is never one‑note: he is funny, irritable, vulnerable, imperious and frightened, often within the same scene. It’s a performance that makes the king’s suffering both tragic and strangely dignified.
The film charts not only George’s personal crisis but the political turmoil it triggers. As the king’s behaviour becomes increasingly erratic, Parliament circles like vultures, factions manoeuvre for advantage, and the question of who truly governs Britain becomes dangerously unstable. Bennett’s writing shines here — sharp, humane, and laced with the dry humour that prevents the drama from ever becoming heavy-handed.
Hytner’s direction brings theatrical precision without sacrificing cinematic sweep. The production design is sumptuous, the pacing brisk, and the tone perfectly judged: the film is never afraid to be funny, even in moments of deep sadness, which only heightens the emotional impact.
The supporting cast is a roll‑call of British acting talent at the top of their game. Helen Mirren is superb as Queen Charlotte, offering quiet strength and aching loyalty. Ian Holm’s Dr Willis brings a stern, unsettling authority, while Rupert Everett, Amanda Donohoe, Geoffrey Palmer and Julian Wadham all contribute richly textured performances that deepen the political and personal stakes.
What makes The Madness of King George endure is its humanity. It’s a story about power, vulnerability and the thin line between eccentricity and crisis — but above all, it’s about a man struggling to hold onto himself as the world around him shifts.
A beautifully crafted, deeply moving historical drama, and one of the finest ever produced in Britain.
10.45pm – Film4 – American Star (2024)
American Star is a far more reflective film than its logline suggests. On paper, it’s a thriller about an ageing contract killer sent to the Canary Islands for one final job. In practice, it’s a quiet, melancholy character study — a film that uses the trappings of a genre piece to explore loneliness, regret and the faint, flickering possibility of redemption.
Ian McShane is superb. He plays Wilson with a kind of worn‑down elegance: a man who has spent decades dealing death and now finds himself unexpectedly confronted by the weight of all those choices. McShane’s performance is understated, almost minimalist, but every pause, every glance, every half‑spoken line carries history. He’s a man who has lived too long in silence, and the film lets that silence speak.
The plot is deliberately spare. Wilson arrives on Fuerteventura expecting a straightforward assignment, only to find his target absent. That delay becomes the film’s engine. With nothing to do but wait, he drifts through the island, forming tentative connections with locals — a bartender, a young woman, a child — each encounter nudging him toward a kind of emotional thaw. The landscape itself becomes part of the story: vast, windswept, and indifferent, mirroring Wilson’s internal emptiness while offering him a strange, unexpected solace.
Director Gonzalo López‑Gallego keeps the pacing slow and meditative. The film favours long takes, quiet conversations and stretches of stillness where the only drama is what’s happening behind McShane’s eyes. It’s a bold choice, and it pays off. Rather than building tension through action, American Star builds it through introspection — the sense that Wilson is finally, perhaps fatally, reckoning with the man he has become.
There are thriller elements, yes — shadows of danger, hints of violence, the ever‑present question of whether Wilson will complete his mission — but they’re secondary to the film’s emotional core. This is a story about a man trying to understand whether redemption is possible when your life has been defined by harm.
Quiet, thoughtful and unexpectedly moving, American Star is a slow‑burn gem anchored by one of Ian McShane’s finest late‑career performances. It lingers not because of what happens, but because of what it dares to sit with: the loneliness of a life misspent, and the fragile hope that even at the end, change might still be possible.
11.05pm – BBC Two – The New Boy (2023)
(Also available on BBC iPlayer)
Warwick Thornton’s beautifully photographed Australian drama stars Aswan Reid alongside Cate Blanchett in the story of a mysterious Aboriginal boy brought to a remote monastery in the 1940s. Blending spirituality, colonial history and quiet magic realism, it unfolds at an unhurried pace, asking profound questions about faith, identity and cultural survival. A thoughtful, haunting film that rewards patience.
Wednesday 29 July
From 8.00am – PBS America – Ken Burns Day
(Catch up via Freeview Play)
PBS America celebrates the birthday of documentary master Ken Burns with a day devoted to the filmmaker whose meticulous historical series, including The Civil War, Baseball, The Vietnam War and Hemingway, helped redefine television documentary. It is an excellent opportunity to discover two earlier works that deserve to be much better known in Britain.
8.00am & 3.50pm – Lewis and Clark: The Journey of the Corps of Discovery (1997)
Narrated by Hal Holbrook, Burns’s four-part series recounts the epic expedition that opened up the American West in the early nineteenth century. Richly illustrated with journals, paintings and Burns’s trademark blend of archive material and evocative narration, it turns one of America’s defining adventures into gripping television.
1.15pm & 8.50pm – Horatio’s Drive: America’s First Road Trip (2003)
One of Burns’s lighter and most charming films tells the unlikely story of Horatio Nelson Jackson, the first person to drive across the United States in 1903. Tom Hanks provides the voice of Jackson, while the documentary celebrates the spirit of adventure that accompanied the birth of the motor car. Quirky, affectionate and quietly inspiring.
9.00pm – BBC Two – Lucy Worsley Investigates: The Gunpowder Plot
Lucy Worsley has a gift for stripping away centuries of myth to reveal the complicated realities beneath familiar historical events. Here she revisits the Gunpowder Plot, questioning accepted narratives and examining the political and religious tensions that made 1605 one of the most turbulent years in English history. History presented with scholarship, warmth and genuine curiosity.
11.00pm – Film4 – The Florida Project (2017)
Sean Baker’s The Florida Project remains one of the most moving and quietly radical American films of the past decade — a portrait of childhood lived on the margins, told with compassion, vibrancy and an unflinching honesty that never slips into exploitation or sentimentality.
Set in the pastel‑coloured motels that sit in the long shadow of Walt Disney World, the film follows six‑year‑old Moonee and her young mother Halley as they navigate a precarious existence just outside the gates of a place built on fantasy. Baker uses this setting brilliantly: the proximity to Disney’s manufactured magic becomes a constant reminder of the gulf between the dreams sold to tourists and the harsh realities faced by the families living week‑to‑week in budget accommodation.
The young cast is astonishing. Brooklynn Prince’s performance as Moonee is one of the most natural and emotionally rich child performances in recent memory — mischievous, imaginative, fearless, and heartbreakingly unaware of how fragile her world is. Her scenes with her friends have a documentary‑like spontaneity, capturing the joy and chaos of childhood with remarkable authenticity.
Opposite her, Bria Vinaite brings raw, volatile energy to Halley, a mother doing everything she can to survive, even when her choices push her closer to disaster. The film never judges her; instead, it shows how systems fail people long before they fail themselves.
Willem Dafoe provides the film’s quiet anchor as Bobby, the motel manager who becomes an unofficial guardian to the children. It’s one of his finest performances — gentle, weary, and deeply humane. Bobby sees everything, understands more than he ever says, and tries to hold the chaos at bay with small acts of kindness that feel monumental in context.
Baker’s direction is vibrant and empathetic. Shot on 35mm, the film’s colours pop with almost storybook intensity, a visual echo of the children’s perspective. Yet beneath the brightness lies a growing tension, a sense that the fragile balance of Moonee’s life cannot hold forever.
The final scenes are devastating in their simplicity, capturing the collision between innocence and reality with a grace that stays with you.
11.15pm – BBC Four – Eye in the Sky (2015)
Gavin Hood’s Eye in the Sky is one of the most gripping and intellectually rigorous thrillers of the past decade — a film that understands that modern warfare is often fought not on battlefields, but in conference rooms, legal briefings and cramped control stations where every decision carries unbearable weight.
Helen Mirren leads the ensemble as Colonel Katherine Powell, a steely, determined officer overseeing a joint UK–US operation to capture high‑value terrorist targets in Kenya. What begins as a surveillance mission quickly escalates when the suspects prepare for a suicide attack, forcing Powell and her team to consider a drone strike. The complication — and the heart of the film — arrives in the form of a single innocent girl who wanders into the blast zone.
From that moment, Eye in the Sky becomes a tense moral crucible. The film meticulously examines the chain of command: military officials, legal advisers, politicians and drone operators all wrestling with the same impossible question — is it justifiable to kill one innocent person to save many others? Hood’s direction keeps the tension razor‑sharp without ever resorting to cheap theatrics. The drama comes from hesitation, debate, and the crushing responsibility of making a decision that cannot be undone.
Alan Rickman, in one of his final screen roles, is superb as Lieutenant General Frank Benson, bringing weary authority and quiet moral clarity to a character caught between political caution and human empathy. Aaron Paul adds emotional depth as the drone pilot struggling with the reality of what he may be asked to do.
What makes the film so effective is its restraint. It refuses to offer easy answers or tidy moral conclusions. Instead, it shows how modern warfare has become a web of ethical dilemmas, technological precision and human fallibility. Every character is forced to confront the limits of their own principles, and the audience is left to sit with the same discomfort.
Eye in the Sky is tense, intelligent and deeply unsettling — a thriller that grips not through action, but through the unbearable weight of choice.
Thursday 30 July
8.00pm – Sky Arts – Talking Pictures: 70s Legends
A nostalgic celebration of one of cinema’s greatest decades, when ambitious directors reshaped Hollywood and produced an astonishing run of classics. Packed with archive material and affectionate reminiscences, it is an ideal warm-up for the evening’s film.
9.00pm – BBC Two – Taxi Driver (1976)
If Sunday’s screening left you wanting another look, BBC Two obliges. Martin Scorsese’s masterpiece loses none of its power with repeated viewing. Robert De Niro’s lonely, damaged Travis Bickle remains one of cinema’s most unforgettable creations, while Bernard Herrmann’s haunting final score perfectly captures the film’s unsettling atmosphere.
9.00pm – Channel 5 – Benidorm’s Murder
A true-crime documentary exploring a case that shocked one of Britain’s favourite holiday destinations. Beyond the sensational headlines lies a thoughtful examination of the investigation and the human stories caught up in it.
9.00pm – Sky Documentaries – Ricky Gervais: Politics
This profile revisits Ricky Gervais’s provocative relationship with fame, comedy and public controversy. Whatever your view of him, there is no denying his influence on British comedy over the past quarter-century.
9.00pm – Sky Arts – The Life and Deaths of Christopher Lee
Christopher Lee’s extraordinary life was every bit as remarkable as his screen career. Soldier, linguist, singer and one of cinema’s greatest horror icons, his story stretches from the Second World War to The Lord of the Rings. A fitting tribute to a uniquely fascinating actor.
10.00pm – Channel 4 – The Smuggling Business Undercover
An investigative documentary examining the sophisticated criminal networks that profit from smuggling and illegal trafficking. Sobering viewing that illustrates the global scale of organised crime.
10.30pm – Sky Arts – Hammer Heroes, Legends and Monsters
Hammer Heroes, Legends and Monsters is a richly enjoyable celebration of the studio that reshaped British horror and exported its gothic imagination to the world. Sky Arts approaches Hammer Films not as a relic of the past but as a creative force whose influence still pulses through modern genre cinema, and the result is a documentary that feels affectionate, informed and genuinely fun.
The programme traces Hammer’s rise from modest post‑war productions to its golden age of lurid colour, fog‑shrouded castles and unforgettable monsters. At the centre of it all, of course, are Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing — two actors whose partnership and contrasting styles helped define the studio’s identity. Lee’s imposing physicality and brooding menace, paired with Cushing’s precision, warmth and moral gravity, created a dynamic that elevated even the most outrageous storylines. Their performances remain the beating heart of Hammer’s legacy, and the documentary gives them the reverence they deserve.
Beyond its iconic stars, the film digs into the wider ensemble of writers, directors and character actors who contributed to Hammer’s unmistakable tone. It highlights how the studio blended theatricality with sincerity, turning limited budgets into atmospheric triumphs through clever lighting, bold production design and a willingness to push boundaries. Interviews and archival material underline just how influential Hammer became — not only in horror, but in shaping the visual language of genre filmmaking across Europe, America and beyond.
Sky Arts also acknowledges the cultural impact: Hammer’s films were controversial, adored, dismissed, rediscovered and ultimately canonised. Their blend of sensuality, violence and gothic excess paved the way for everything from modern vampire dramas to prestige horror. Even filmmakers who have never consciously imitated Hammer often borrow its rhythms, its colour palette, its sense of operatic dread.
As a tribute, Hammer Heroes, Legends and Monsters succeeds because it understands what made the studio special. It’s not just the monsters or the melodrama — it’s the craftsmanship, the commitment, and the actors who treated even the wildest scripts with absolute seriousness.
A warm, engaging and thoroughly enjoyable salute to the studio that turned British gothic horror into a global phenomenon.
11.00pm – Film4 – The Blackening (2022)
A knowing horror-comedy that cheerfully plays with the conventions of the slasher genre while poking fun at the clichés that have long defined Hollywood horror. Funny, inventive and far smarter than its premise initially suggests.
11.15pm – Sky Arts – National Theatre Live: Dr Strangelove
The National Theatre’s stage adaptation of Dr Strangelove is an audacious undertaking — not simply because Stanley Kubrick’s 1964 film is one of the most iconic political satires ever made, but because its tone is so precise, its humour so razor‑edged, and its Cold War absurdity so indelibly tied to cinema. What’s remarkable is how confidently the NT reimagines it for the stage, finding fresh theatrical energy without losing the bite of the original.
Steve Coogan leads the production with a virtuoso turn, taking on multiple roles and leaning into the film’s darkly comic spirit while adding his own timing and physicality. He captures the manic logic of Kubrick’s world — the bureaucratic panic, the swaggering incompetence, the apocalyptic farce — and channels it through a performance that feels both affectionate and sharply contemporary.
The adaptation embraces theatricality rather than trying to mimic the film. The staging is inventive, using bold visual design, stylised movement and rapid shifts in tone to evoke the escalating madness of nuclear brinkmanship. The War Room scenes crackle with satirical tension, while the bomber sequences become surreal, almost vaudevillian riffs on military bravado.
What gives the production its staying power is how relevant it feels. The Cold War may have ended, but the themes — political ego, military overconfidence, technological escalation, the terrifying fragility of global stability — remain painfully current. The play doesn’t update the story so much as let today’s world echo through it, making the satire land with renewed force.
As a live theatrical event, Dr Strangelove is bold, funny, unsettling and impressively crafted. It honours Kubrick’s masterpiece while proving that its warnings — and its humour — still resonate powerfully on a stage in 2026.
Friday 31 July
9.00pm – Channel 5 – A Twisted Tale of Amanda Knox
Nearly two decades after the murder of Meredith Kercher, the Amanda Knox case continues to provoke fierce debate. This documentary revisits the investigation, the sensational media coverage and the legal twists that transformed a tragic crime into one of the defining true-crime stories of the twenty-first century.
9.00pm – PBS America – Britain’s Killer Wave of 1607
Could Britain’s greatest natural disaster have been a tsunami rather than a catastrophic storm surge? This fascinating documentary examines the evidence behind the mysterious flood that devastated communities around the Bristol Channel more than four centuries ago. History, geology and detective work combine to challenge long-held assumptions.
10.50pm – BBC Two – The Green Mile (1999)
10.50pm – BBC Two – The Green Mile (1999)
10.50pm – BBC Two – The Green Mile (1999)
Frank Darabont’s The Green Mile remains one of the most emotionally overwhelming experiences in mainstream American cinema — a film that takes its time, earns every tear, and builds a world where cruelty, compassion and the supernatural coexist with unsettling ease.
Set in a 1930s death‑row block, the story follows prison guard Paul Edgecomb (Tom Hanks), whose steady moral compass is tested when a new inmate arrives: John Coffey, played with extraordinary gentleness by Michael Clarke Duncan. Coffey is a giant of a man, physically imposing yet childlike in demeanour, convicted of a horrific crime that he insists he did not commit. As Paul and his colleagues witness Coffey’s miraculous healing abilities, the film shifts from a straightforward prison drama into something more spiritual — a meditation on justice, suffering and the possibility of grace in the darkest places.
Hanks anchors the ensemble with quiet authority, giving Paul a decency that never feels sentimental. Duncan’s performance, meanwhile, is the film’s soul: dignified, wounded, and suffused with compassion. His portrayal of Coffey is one of the great feats of emotional acting in ’90s cinema, and it remains devastating.
Darabont directs with patience and confidence. The film is long — deliberately so — allowing relationships to deepen and moral dilemmas to unfold without haste. The supporting cast adds texture throughout: David Morse’s steady kindness, Doug Hutchison’s chilling cruelty, Sam Rockwell’s chaotic menace, and James Cromwell’s weary humanity. Each contributes to the film’s layered portrait of life inside “the Mile.”
What makes The Green Mile endure is its sincerity. It tackles capital punishment, systemic injustice and human frailty without preaching, instead inviting viewers to sit with the contradictions and heartbreaks of its world. The supernatural elements never feel gimmicky; they amplify the film’s emotional stakes, pushing its characters — and its audience — to confront the limits of mercy.
Richly rewarding, beautifully acted and emotionally shattering, The Green Mile remains one of the most affecting prison dramas ever made. It’s a film that stays with you long after the lights go down.
11.15pm – Channel 4 – Fresh (2022)
What begins as an offbeat modern romance takes an audacious turn into psychological horror. Sebastian Stan is chillingly charismatic in a film that skewers contemporary dating culture while never forgetting to entertain. Best approached knowing as little as possible.
Streaming
Prime Video – The Devil’s Mouth
(Available from Friday 25 July)
Prime’s latest original thriller follows a journalist drawn into a decades-old conspiracy that refuses to stay buried. Atmospheric and intelligently plotted, it promises the sort of slow-burning suspense that rewards careful attention rather than relying on cheap shocks.
YouTube – Together
(From Tuesday 28 July)
This independently produced documentary explores how communities rebuild trust after conflict and division. Thoughtful and quietly optimistic, it proves that some of the most rewarding viewing can still be found outside the major streaming platforms.
Disney+ – Furious
(From Monday 27 July)
A stylish new action series balancing spectacular set pieces with an unexpectedly strong emotional core. Slickly produced and fast-moving, it should appeal to anyone looking for escapist entertainment with a little more substance than usual.
HBO Max – President Curtis
(From Monday 27 July)
Political drama meets dark satire in this series imagining an unconventional presidency under intense public scrutiny. Cleverly written and sharply observed, it explores power, personality and modern media culture with equal wit.
Paramount+ – Primate
(From Wednesday 29 July)
Part thriller, part psychological drama, Primate examines ambition, scientific ethics and the sometimes uncomfortable relationship between human beings and the natural world. An intriguing addition to Paramount+’s growing catalogue of original drama.
Disney+ – The Devil Wears Prada 2
(From Wednesday 29 July)
Nearly two decades after the original became a cultural phenomenon, Miranda Priestly returns. Fashion, ambition and razor-sharp dialogue remain the order of the day, with the sequel aiming to introduce a new generation to one of cinema’s most memorable magazine editors.
Netflix – The Bombing of Pan Am 103
(From Thursday 30 July)
This six-part documentary begins in the immediate aftermath of the Lockerbie disaster, following the painstaking investigation into the bombing and the long search for answers. Combining testimony, archive material and forensic detail, it revisits one of the darkest chapters in modern British history with the seriousness and sensitivity the subject demands.
Radio
Saturday 25 July
8.00pm – Radio 4 – Archive on 4: The People’s Pool
Denise Mina tells the remarkable story of Glasgow’s Grade A-listed Govanhill Baths, once threatened with closure but ultimately saved through one of the longest occupations of a civic building in British history. Built to improve both public health and recreation, the baths embodied the belief that every child should leave able to swim, however modestly. More than a local history, this is a fascinating account of community activism, public ownership and determined resistance, illustrating how ordinary people can preserve institutions that matter long after official support has disappeared.
Monday 27 July
11.00pm – Radio 4 – Intimacy
Lena Headey stars in a thoughtful contemporary drama as an intimacy coordinator working on a film set in Greece whose carefully ordered professional life is unsettled by the unexpected arrival of someone from her past. A character-driven piece exploring memory, relationships and the emotional complexity that often lies beneath apparently controlled lives.
Tuesday 28 July
9.00am – Radio 4 – Invisible Hands: The American Century
David Dimbleby begins a new series examining how the United States emerged as the dominant global power during the twentieth century. Characteristically measured and richly informed, the series promises to combine political history with the personalities, ideas and events that reshaped the modern world.
When The Mentalist first aired on CBS in September 2008, it arrived in a crowded field of procedural dramas. Yet its pilot stood apart — not through forensic spectacle, but through the quiet precision of a man reading the world like a book. Patrick Jane, played with deceptive ease by Simon Baker, is introduced not as a detective but as a fallen showman, a former “psychic” whose gift is observation rather than prophecy. The episode, written by Bruno Heller and directed by David Nutter, is a masterclass in character‑driven storytelling that balances crime‑scene intrigue with psychological depth.
