When I first heard that Sir Kenny Branagh was remaking Sydney Lumet’s 1973 apogee of the All-Star Cast film vehicle (or, perhaps, as he might prefer, reimagining of the 1934 Agatha Christie novel) Murder on the Orient Express, I confess I did pause to consider the wisdom of doing so, from the point of view of a potential audience member, given that much of the enjoyment of a whodunnit is finding out who indeed did do it, and if you know that already, well… Which got me thinking about films I’ve watched more than once for which it could be said the destination is at least as important as the journey, and of the number of times I have been heard to say: “I know I’ve seen this, but I can’t remember for the life of me what happens at the end!” (With a memory like mine, whodunnits are the gift that keeps on giving...) Then I remembered how much I enjoyed watching TV’s And Then There Were None from a couple of years back, even though I had not forgotten that it was - SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT! - the old Judge wot done it. And whatever happened to the All-Star ensemble film that once seemed so prevalent? Could it be that with how much these big names get paid these days – however unfairly split across the sexes – few can afford to make them!?

Beyond MOTOE, from 3 November we have a very special engagement with David Lean’s classic/epic Lawrence of Arabia screening in a brand new and glorious 70mm print; Call Me By Your Name, which you really should not miss, continues; and I’d heartily recommend you catch Annette Bening as Gloria Grahame in Film Stars Don’t Die in Liverpool, Armando Iannucci’s often supremely funny The Death of Stalin and Yorgos (The Lobster) Lanthimos’ The Killing of a Sacred Deer; and our annual French Film Festival returns, marking, wait for it, its first quarter century…

Zut alors!