Woolly intentions 
Going to the cinema alone is one of life’s great pleasures, particularly in a big city like London, where you can wallow in anonymity, eat all the popcorn and quietly cry yourself to sleep every night. The latter is an optional extra.

Another joy is to see a film without any preconceptions. This week I saw Rams. All I knew was it was in Icelandic, which precludes my initial theory that it was a romantic comedy about Derby County fans. Instead came the tale of an ancient feud, ageing sheep farmers, winter light and a glorious, barren landscape, upon which the camera luxuriated thoroughly.

Either a drama or a comedy of the blackest black — some of the audience weren’t too sure — Rams is about communication, jigsaw puzzles, change, love and cowardice. I can’t recommend it highly enough.