A Street Cat Named Bob is an affable tale of redemption with its heart in the right place
It’s difficult to write a piece about a film from Northern England without a mandatory reference to either Ken Loach or Shane Meadows.
A nurse is walking through south London on the way home to her flat in a council estate.
Music festivals are generally a messy business. Mud, booze, dodgy burgers, and a strange sense of camaraderie with complete strangers, all rolled into one.
This is a kind of minor, low rent reimagining of the Faust legend, imbued with timid horror theatrics that fail to make one shiver.