The question is, where has he gone? These words don't come easy, but Martin Scorsese, at this current juncture in cinematic history, has disappeared. Once a maestro film-maker who advocated anarchy of the soul - see De Niro's Johnny Boy in Mean Streets or Joe Pesci in GoodFellas - Scorsese delighted in holding up a mirror to America's underbelly, and he did so with that most subversive of narrative tools: humour.
Wes' development is less a question of reinvention than maturing into his own prodigious grammar. His last two films in particular, Fantastic Mr Fox and Moonrise Kingdom, were retro, anarchic delights that coalesced boundless visual ambition with a miniaturist melancholy. But The Grand Budapest Hotel, his latest, trumps everything he's done so far.
You probably haven't seen it, even if you consider yourself quite a horror fan. It's from a film that remains difficult to track down, and was never very widely shown in the first place. In my opinion it's one of the truly great moments in horror cinema, and I don't want you to go and check it out under any circumstances.
Since Sochi was selected as host for the Winter Olympics, there has been a general sense of dismay among the Russian intellectual elites and public figures. Boris Nemtsov, one of the members of the opposition, famously said "You'd have to spend a long time searching the map of this huge country to find someplace with no snow"
This may come as a surprise to you, but did you know that there is an almost secretive, physical effects company hidden behind a bleak, cheeky corner near Perivale tube station in North West London? I recently went there to speak to the CEO and SFX (Special Effects) Supervisor, Mike Kelt, to see what the place is all about...
On this day, 20 years ago, the film-maker, painter, sculptor, gardener, author and queer rights activist Derek Jarman died of HIV. One of Britain's leading post-1945 avant garde artists, he is best remembered for his dazzling array of ground-breaking films. But it was as a HIV and queer rights campaigner that I knew him best.
'The Wolf of Wall Street' is, by many standards, a good film. Sure, it follows all of the predictable plot beats that any given "money and drugs in the Eighties" flick entails, but it makes up for its lack of narrative surprises with its strong central performances and highly stylised depictions of excess.
I doubt Michael Cimino has ever watched a game of cricket in his life - nevertheless the Oscar-winning director who imploded in a fireball of arrogance, sycophancy and self-obsessive control-freakery more than three decades ago is the perfect mentor for England's beleaguered cricket captain, Alistair Cook.
'What Maisie Knew', a must see intelligent, heartfelt and emotional tale of a six year old in the middle of acrimonious divorce - Onata Aprile gives a performance to behold. 'The Taste of Money' the follow up to Im Sang-soo's 'The Housemaid', is a stylised and intriguing bitter and delicious thriller of lust, seduction, decadence and betrayal.
I have compiled my very own top 10 list that's based on quality, quintessence and originality as well of course as entertainment. The following list is not recommended for people who refuse to watch films with subtitles because they 'can't read and watch a film at the same time' or for people who 'don't do' black and white.