Downton Abbey – The Grand Finale (2025), directed by Simon Curtis

It is 1930 and great change is in the air, even among the upper echelons of English society, but possibly not quickly enough for Lady Mary. She and her racing driver husband have divorced, which makes her persona non grata in her social set. At Downton Abbey some of the older generation are struggling to cede control to the next, both upstairs and downstairs. Lady Cora’s American brother has money troubles following the stock market crash, further threatening the family fortunes. Perhaps a visit from Noel Coward can save the day? It’s all pretty low stakes, with the costumes and set design taking centre stage. The actors do their best with a very average and self-indulgent script, but it’s nice to see most of the familiar faces from the TV show one last time.

Emily (2022), directed by Frances O’Connor

There is a school of thought among the literati that elevates the novel Wuthering Heights as the greatest ever written. This premise seems to have informed Frances O’Connor’s writing and directing of this film about the middle Bronte sister. It is one thing to invent a passionate and doomed affair with a curate to explain the depth and breadth of imagination that came up with such an extraordinary story. It is quite another to ignore or distort known facts to serve the film’s narrative arc. Prolific novelist Charlotte apparently gave up writing during her teaching career and was only inspired by Emily’s success to take it up again after her sister’s death. Anne’s writing is never alluded to, despite her authorship of two exceptional novels. Small things are also annoying, such as Emily’s name appearing on her book, when it is well known that all three sisters used male pen names in order to get published. What does ring true is the problematic character of brother Branwell, and the portrayal of sibling rivalry between Emily and Charlotte is interesting and credible. Shaky hand-held camera work, some strange editing choices and occasionally overblown music detract from what is overall a quite beautiful, if uneven, film. It is held together by Emma Mackey’s mesmerising lead performance and a strong supporting cast.

Six Minutes to Midnight (2020), directed by Andy Goddard

The Augusta-Victoria School in Sussex was a real place that served as a finishing school for the daughters and god-daughters of the Nazi high command. It operated from 1932 to 1939 on the south coast of England. This is an intriguing setting for a film in the febrile summer prior to WWII, when war seemed inevitable but there were strong Nazi sympathies and a movement for appeasement rather than conflict. The schoolgirls make ideal political pawns for both sides, with the potential for a great war story from a different angle. Unfortunately the script is an unholy mess, with yawning plot holes and increasingly unlikely actions. The underlying theme of how difficult it can be to tell the good guys from the bad is overdone and heavy-handed. Judi Dench performs as expected as the headmistress; Eddie Izzard makes a suitable teacher/spy, but is an unconvincing action hero. This film has style but just doesn’t deliver on substance.

Colette (2018), directed by Wash Westmoreland

Naïve country girl Gabrielle Sidonie Colette has been brought up to be a free spirit by tolerant and loving parents. This captivates a much older man, worldly and sophisticated Willy, who runs a literary ‘factory’ in Paris. He commissions young unknown writers and publishes under his name, reaping the spoils of their success and rarely paying them on time as his extravagant habits always exceed his income. His young wife blossoms in bohemian turn-of-the century Paris and willingly joins his factory to support their lifestyle. But young girls grow up and as Colette finds her voice she comes to resent Willy’s betrayals, manipulation and exploitation. Keira Knightly is very good in the title role, while Dominic West complements her well as Willy, in what is a pretty familiar character for him. The story demonstrates that fluid sexuality and gender roles are not a recent phenomenon, with Denise Gough convincing in the role of Missy, Colette’s transgender lover. In a nice finishing touch, photographs at the end illustrate how Colette’s life played out as a bestselling author and the most successful female French novelist.

The Seagull (2018), directed by Michael Mayer

It is interesting to ponder whether there is touch of the Emperor’s New Clothes about some of the classics. Do they endure because they really are so profound or have they become a habit so ingrained they are beyond the kind of critical appraisal applied to new works? Chekov’s The Seagull is essentially a melodrama and only the outstanding cast stops this film version tripping over into pure soap opera. Everyone is in love with the wrong person; they make the wrong decisions and are determined to wallow in their misery. In fact, you just want to slap most of them. Saoirse Ronan inhabits naïve, betrayed Nina; Annette Bening is wonderful as ageing actress Irina eliciting some sympathy for a character so shallow, self-centred and vain; Elisabeth Moss makes a good fist of the rather thankless role of Masha, the most slappable of them all. The women outshine the men, but Corey Stoll is good as selfish writer Boris, while Billy Howle is suitably sulky as the moody and frustrated Konstantin. Set in the idyllic Russian countryside in the early 20th century, the film is beautifully shot and costumed. Most of the action centres on the many dysfunctional relationships – mother and son, lovers, husbands and wives, brother and sister – that are undermined by jealousy and dissatisfaction. But it is punctuated by occasional pithy references to the social climate, which leave little doubt as to why there was a revolution in the offing.