Behind every sequel hungry, franchise captive in the picture house queue who's had to remortgage their house for a bag of stale popcorn, stands an overly critical cinephile with a yearning for something better and a secret bag of supermarket-bought peanut M&Ms in his pocket. This is a list for the latter.
Most of these extraneous activities are well documented, but they're worth repeating in the vague hope people decide that maybe they should try and avoid partaking in them, if only to be considerate enough to those in the auditorium who are there to, and I'll whisper this so as not annoy anyone, enjoy the BLOODY PICTURE.
It wouldn't be Christmas without ads for everything including food, furniture, perfume, toys, Coca-Cola, John Lewis and, of course, the Church of England. Even though we forget between Christmases, the Church of England has a long history of festive ad campaigns and this year's ad is a classic PR stunt.
Over 30 years, Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy appeared together in 106 films. Their first film was a silent short called A Lucky Dog. Now, almost 100 years later, Laurel and Hardy are being screened in cinemas to sell-out audiences across the UK & Ireland as part of a campaign to introduce them to the next generation.
There's something incredibly sad about hearing someone say they've never heard of Laurel & Hardy. Maybe it's because I grew up with them. They were a big part of my childhood in the 70s and they seemed to be on TV all the time back then. Even into the 80s, the BBC regularly showed the Laurel & Hardy classic shorts on BBC2.
'99 Homes', a tale of greed and corruption during the real estate crash is a tense and relevant drama - 'Captive' is a true story edge-of-the-seat thriller hostage drama - 'Mia Madre,' Nanni Moretti's family drama on the loss of a parent is saved by John Turturro- 'Solace' nods to 'Se7en', mixes serial killings with the supernatural but is lost in wide screen visuals.
Of course, the Krays continue to fascinate for the very same reason that the Great Train Robbers and to a lesser extent, the recent Hatton Garden thieves do. There's a glamour to them that we find irresistible. Secretly maybe we all want to be them, if only we had the confidence to get away with their crimes and our moral compasses were similarly a little off.