There's nothing intrinsically new about Adil El Arbi and Bilall Fallah's debut feature, Black. Distilled from a pair of bestsellers by the Flemish author, Dirk Bracke, its basic premise revisits the West Side Story slant on the classic Romeo and Juliet scenario, while its cinematic debts to John Singleton's Boyz N the Hood (1991), Mathieu Kassovitz's La Haine (1995) and Céline Sciamma's Girlhood (2014) are clearly evident. Perhaps that's why Singleton has recently taken the Belgian duo to South Central Los Angeles to make the pilot for 1980s drug saga, Titled Snowfall. But what makes this tale of feuding gangs so striking is the palpably authentic energy and attitude that has been counterfeited in so many recent turf war movies and the willingness on the part of El Arbi and Fallah to depart from the austerity of the voguish Dardennean strain of social realism.

Having broken a car window and snatched a handbag, Aboubakr Bensaihi is chased through the streets of Brussels before reaching older brother Soufiane Chilah's getaway car. They share the spoils with fellow members of the Moroccan 1080 gang, including their respective girlfriends Marine Scandiuzzi and Sanaa Bourrasse. Patrol cop Sanâa Alaoui warns them that she has her eye on them, but they give her some insolent back chat.

Meanwhile, 15 year-old Martha Canga Antonio hooks up with friends Natascha Boyamba, Glody Lombi, Laetitia Nouhhaïdi and Ashley Ntangu from the Congolese Black Bronx crew. However, she gets caught stealing wine from a supermarket and meets Bensaihi when he is brought in for the purse theft. They flirt in the corridor before Antonio is interviewed by detective Claude Musungayi, who warns her of the dangers of hanging with the wrong crowd. Mother Bwanga Pilipili laments that Antonio is wasting her potential when she comes to collect her. But she is solely interested in the fact that Bensaihi managed to slip her his telephone number before he got an earful from his Dutch stepfather.

A few days later, Antonio calls Bensaihi and they have a quaintly bashful date on a subway platform. However, they meet at another station under very different circumstances shortly after Chilah gets a three-month prison sentence for the possession of marijuana. Antonio is travelling with the pregnant Ntanga when the latter gets chatted up by 1080 member Simon Frey. When he becomes insistent, Ntanga calls over boyfriend Brandon Masudi and a stand-off ensues. Frey and buddies Brahim El Abdouni and Faysel Ichakarene get off at the next stop and hurl racist insults at Masudi and his cohorts, who open the train doors and chase after them.

As a fight breaks out on the concourse, the police arrive and everyone is interviewed at the station. They all deny a rumble took place (even though Frey has a broken finger) and Alaoui and Musungayi despair of them. However, the latter is concerned for Antonio and persuades her to take his card after he shows her photographs of a girl gang member who had her face chewed off by a pitbull after she fell foul of the leader.

Antonio has become involved with the Black Bronx because cousin Théo Kabeya is a loyal lieutenant to bigwigs Emmanuel Tahon and Jérémy Zagba, who owns a vicious dog. He is also in thrall to drug dealer Issaka Sawadogo and is under pressure to increase sales in his neighbourhood. But Antonio knows nothing of such activities, as she hooks up with Bensaihi for another date and he assures her that its sexy when she burps after drinking a fizzy soda. They kiss on the train home, despite Antonio being scared of being seen with someone from a rival gang.

Bensaihi is also on tenterhooks when he visits Chilah in prison and lets off steam by petrol-bombing a police car with El Abdouni and Ichakarene. As he flees, he stumbles into an abandoned church in a back street and calls Antonio to meet him there. She is attending a concert with Kabeya and Tahon, who go backstage to intimidate singer Nganji Laeh, who is forced to pay them protection money to ensure they don't wreck the gig. Slipping away after Tahon makes drunken advances to her at the bar, Antonio is delighted by the empty church and lights a votive candle to warm the feet of a Marian statue. Bensaihi leads her upstairs to a candlelit room and they make love in discreet slow-motion.

Antonio gets back to the gang den to find Ntangu in tears because Masudi has dumped her for one of the other girls. She tries to be brave as they smooch on the opposite side of the room, but tells Antonio that she is leaving and urges her to be careful, as she is not playing a game. Proof of this comes a couple of days later when Tahon recognises Bourrasse working as a waitress at a café. He orders Antonio to befriend her and lure her to the Black Bronx HQ, where they can exact their revenge for the subway rumble.

Rather surprisngly, Bourrasse responds to Antonio's offers of friendship and only realises she has been tricked when she is surrounded by Tahon and his sidekicks. Shocked at witnessing a gang rape, Antonio tries to help Bourrasse and is locked in a cupboard by her cousin. When he lets her out, Kabeya reminds her that if anything similar ever happens to her, she is not to go to the police.

Across the city, Bensaihi visits Chilah and informs him that he wants to quit the gang and open a garage. He also ticks off the other 1080s when they steal a bag from an 70 year-old woman. However, he keeps a necklace he finds among the contents and gets slapped by Scandiuzzi when he breaks up with her. But she has no intention of letting the slight lie and follows Bensaihi to the church and films him with Antonio. She shows the footage to Tahon and Zagba, who have just taught a lesson to the leader of the Black Panther gang by shooting him in the leg for straying on to their patch. They go to the church and find Antonio alone (because Bensaihi has been arrested for shoplifting while getting them something to drink) and she is subjected to a gang rape for betraying her oath.

Antonio goes home to sob in the shower and Pilipili cautions her that she will never be allowed to walk away from Black Bronx. Tahon confiscates her phone and has Boyamba order Bensaihi to stay away from her. He then pulls a gun on Antonio and runs the barrel over her face as he tells her what he will do to her beau if he catches them together again. She is forced to leave home so they can keep an eye on her and Pilipili notifies Kebaya that he can expect trouble if anything happens to her daughter.

As a cover version of Amy Winehouse's `Back to Black' plays on the soundtrack, Bensaihi drives around the city looking for Antonio. A montage shows her being made to kiss Bombaya at a nightclub before she is coerced into robbing a 7/11 for some booze. She even gets into a girlfight at the shopping mall in broad daylight and toasts her fealty to the Black Bronx. But Bensaihi persists and finally finds Antonio, who sheepishly gets into his car. When she refuses to speak to him, he starts speeding and only slows down when she confesses to leading Bourrasse to her ordeal. She tries to explain that she has paid her debt, as the same thing has happened to her, but this is not what Bensaihi wants to hear.

That night, she creeps into Tahon's room and steals her phone. She calls Musungayi and identifies Tahon and Zagba when he asks about Bourrasse's rape. She spares Kabeya out of family loyalty and agrees to return to the hideout and stay cool because Musungayi insists he can only protect her if she is arrested with the rest of the gang. However, the situation changes when Sawadogo decides to teach Zagba a lesson for getting too cocky and has him sodomised by his henchmen.

Needing an outlet for his humiliated rage, Zagba returns to the crib spoiling for a fight. Chilah is also furious when he finds out what has happened to Bourrasse and he orders Bensaihi to arrange a meeting with Antonio so he can punish her. Zagba and Tahon lash out at Antonio when she tells Bensaihi she loves him as he rings off and manhandle her into a car, as they set out for a showdown at North Station. As Chilah escorts Bensaihi along the platform, Antonio begs Kabeya to let her make a phone call and he relents because they are related. She calls Musungayi before making a break to warn Bensaihi. However, she rushes on to the concourse just as Tahon shoots at him and the bullet passes through them both as they try to protect each other. They die looking into each other's eyes, as Musungayi and Alaoui kneel beside them in despair, while the camera pulls away into a top shot that resembles a human Rorschach test.

The Brussels suburb of Molenbeek has been in the news a good deal in the last few months and El Arbi and Fallah fully exploit their knowledge of its landmarks and ambience in giving this unflinching feature its distinctive atmosphere. Taking their cast of unknowns from Molenbeek and the neighbouring enclave of Matonge, the co-directors succeed in capturing the rawness of daily life on streets where everyone has a reason to feel victimised and scapegoats are readily to hand. Yet, they (and cinematographer Robrecht Heyvaert) don't overdo the handheld jerkiness that has become synonymous with gritty realism and manage to keep a lid on what is undeniably a melodramatic denouement. Moreover, they coax wondrously natural performances out of Antonio and Bensaihi, whose naive rebelliousness and chirpy miscreancy set them apart from their confrères in the Black Bronx and the 1080s.

The script is not without its flaws, especially where Pilipili and Sawadogo are concerned, while too many of the minor characters are ciphers making up the numbers. Too little sense is also given of the threat posed by the rival crews competing for hegemony and of the ethnic tensions between the gangs and the racism they endure from the Flemish and Dutch populations, who seem to keep a considerable distance from them. But this provides keen insights into the outsider mentality that pervades Belgium's immigrant communities. All that's missing is an inkling of the role that religion plays in this simmering resentment, as the headlines suggest it is much more prominent than El Arbi and Fallah are prepared to concede.

Born during the First Intifada and raised during the second, 23 year-old Palestinian Mohamed Jabaly has known little but suffering. Yet, when Israel began bombing the Gaza Strip in the summer of 2014, he knew he had to do something to alert the world to the plight of the 500,000 who were forced to seek alternative accommodation after 180,000 houses were destroyed by drone rockets and missiles. So, Jabaly asked if he could accompany the crew of a Red Cross ambulance and spent the next 51 days recording the unflinching footage that is presented in his debut feature, Ambulance. Made very much in the cinema vérité tradition, this is a work of compassionate observation rather than political propaganda. Yet, while the images speak for themselves, they also carry an eloquent subtext that will outrage as many as it moves.

When the house next door is flattened by an Israeli bomb, Mohamed Jabaly picks up his camera and starts filming. He records the panic among the men trying to reach those trapped in the rubble and the despair of those who have lost everything in a matter of seconds. As he trains the lens on the street below his window. Jabaly sees a survivor being carried to an ambulance and he decides to use his connections at the local hospital to secure permission to join driver Abu Marzouq and his crew for the duration of the battle.

Sitting in the front passenger seat, Jabaly films through the windscreen as the vehicle speeds though the narrow streets of Gaza City. They arrive at the scene of a drone attack, where a youth in a Lampard Chelsea shirt helps carry the wounded to the ill-equipped ambulance. Having deposited their charges at the chaotically over-worked hospital, Jabaly asks the crew for their views on the air raids and Marzouq jokes that they are going to require a lot of luck to survive.

Exhausted by his first night on duty, Jabaly returns home to listen to the headlines on the radio. The next day, he visits a neighbour whose house has taken a direct hit. No life has been lost, but Jabaly's friend is frustrated that the washing-machine has been mangled before he has finished paying for it. He follows two of his sons to their bedroom and one is relieved to find his precious jeans are in one piece. There is masonry everywhere and it will take time and money to get things back to normal. But there is no real normality in Gaza.

Back at casualty, a father and son fail to pull through after being rushed across the city. A relative is overcome with grief and invokes the name of Allah to express his sorrow and defiance. It's a wonder the doctors can work in such noisy confusion, as the air fills with hysterical lamentations and angry threats. But there is no time to linger, as the crew is called to the beach and Jabaly runs alongside stretcher bearers hastening to a spot where a boy has been killed while playing football with his mates. His lifeless corpse is borne away, as onlookers sift through the wreckage of a beach hut before Jabaly is whisked across town to the sound of wailing sirens to accompany the gurney to the ER room, where a photographer complains about being locked outside when he is trying to document the atrocity for an indifferent world.

In voiceover, Jabaly admits that he has not told his parents what he is doing, as he knows they will be afraid for him. He watches the ambulance being cleaned and notes the bloodstain on the stretcher, with the same equanimity that he will later highlight a piece of bone. Jabaly credits his sang froid to Marzouq, who is a rock beloved of everyone in the ambulance fleet, as he combines a devotion to duty with a fearlessness that sends him into a building during a night-time raid in order to look for survivors.

As they scramble around in the darkness, a near-miss causes Jabaly to gasp and he keeps filming as he staggers to safety. Once outside, he regains his composure and is genuinely stunned when they reach the hospital to discover that Marzouq has been wounded in the back of the head. It proves to be a minor scratch requiring a couple of stitches and the driver is keen to get back to work. But his son persuades him to go home and Jabaly confides that he had trouble sleeping after the brush with death that was comfortably the worst moment of his life.

He considers walking away, but realises that he kept filming by instinct after the blast and concludes that he can't abandon Marzouq and his companions. But he gets to see another aspect of Gazan reality when he accompanies a patient to the border so she can be treated by specialists in Egypt. Wandering around the waiting hall, Jabaly interviews people unable to cross in spite of having the right papers and permits, as well as those being held up by technicalities and the capriciousness of the customs officials. A small boy looks into the camera clutching his passport, while everyone around him howls in protests when it's announced that a staff shortage means that the border will stay closed for the rest of the day.

Being denied freedom of movement is undoubtedly infuriating, but Palestinians have almost become inured to such provocations. One of the ambulance crew reveals that he frequently gets calls from Israeli numbers advising him that his house will be targeted during the next air strike. Even though the majority of these calls are hoaxes, it would be folly to ignore them and Jabaly explains how evacuation has become a way of life over footage of those who heeded the latest warnings returning to their decimated houses with a mixture of relief and anguish.

A few weeks later, rumours start flying that Israeli reprisals are expected because a patrol has been ambushed by Hamas. Jabaly joins Marzouq in ignoring warnings from control to venture into the frontline neighbourhood of Shujaia in order to recover the wounded and take some of the numerous refugees to the sanctuary of the hospital. Filming through the cracked windscreen, Jabaly picks up the sound of shelling and gunfire, as the vehicle hurtles through the deserted streets. Young men chant religious slogans, while elderly women ask what is to become of them now they have lost their homes. No one pauses to thank Marzouq and his crew, but Jabaly pays his respects as one receives a phone call to inform him that 12 people have been killed at his uncle's house.

The following morning, Marzouq heads into Shujaia again to collect those sheltering in a church. Unable to refuse anyone, he squeezes a mother and her young children into the cab and Jabaly fixes on the small boy gazing through the windscreen and his wide-eyed sister trying to make sense of the mayhem going on around her. As they stop for petrol, Jabaly is so overwhelmed by the sight of refugees struggling along with the few possessions they have been able to salvage that he stops filming and returns home to weep for his nation.

Five days later, the warring sides agree an eight-day ceasefire and Marzouq coaxes Jabaly into resuming his watching brief, as he feels safer having him around. They return to Shujaia and Jabaly is crestfallen by the state of the roads he walked along to school. A rabbit cowers pitifully against a wall, but its fate is left in the air, as Jabaly visits the bombed out factory of a family friend and wonders what gains the Israelis have made by ruining a man who has spent 30 years making biscuits and notebooks.

Some relief comes a few weeks later with the end of Ramadan. Excited children sing Eid songs and splash around in a pool, while others play football in the street. Life appears to be returning to what passes for normal, as the markets open up and the cars return. But, on the last afternoon of the holiday, the Israelis target Shujaia again and 29 people are killed, including a photographer whom Jabaly had befriended and ambulance driver Abu Hamsa.

Bowing to family pressure, Jabaly beats a retreat. But Marzouq contacts him to say that he misses having the camera around and Jabaly returns to action on his birthday. The crew sing to him and Marzouq opines that he hopes he lives long enough to see his wedding day. His chances improve slightly, when a permanent ceasefire is agreed on 26 August, and the film ends with a glowing red sunset over the scarred landscape.

Although he doesn't identify them during the documentary, Jabaly uses the credits to thank Abd-Razaq Al-Helo, Abu Nedal Ramadan Harazeen, Rami Aklouk, Samer Awadallah, Ahmed Irshi and Abdallah Al-Emawi. One presumes these are the crew members, but Abu Marzouq Khader Al-Halo thoroughly merits pride of place in this study of quiet courage and steely devotion to a cause and its people. Jabaly also exhibits commendable fortitude in capturing this eyewitness account of a city under siege by a cowardly unseen foe. He doesn't shy away from the horrors of the conflict, but concentrates on the resilience that his compatriots demonstrate in the midst of chaos, hysteria, terror and grief. The odd exhortation to the divinity by macho zealots feels a bit self-conscious, but Jabaly doggedly conveys the full extent of a human tragedy that the news bulletins could only hint at.

He is hugely indebted to Danish editor Nanna Frank Moller, who pieces together a narrative from what are essentially video diary entries. Moreover, she manages to avoid the sequences seeming too repetitive, even though a degree of sameness is essential to reinforcing the relentlessness of the bombardment and the suffering it wrought. In many ways, this recalls Emad Burnat and Guy Davidi's 5 Broken Cameras (2011), as it uses everyday misery to justify Palestinian defiance. But, while its potency and poignancy are undeniable, this cannot be considered wholly objective, as Jabaly opts not to consider the ongoing blockade of Gaza in its wider historico-political context.

For a brief moment, as the Thatcher government settled into power, Gary Numan was the biggest pop star in Britain. Consecutive No.1 hits with Tubeway Army's `Are "Friends" Electric?' and the solo single, `Cars', put synth music in the spotlight. Yet, the punk-obsessed music press never took to the `android' persona and robotic performance style that owed much to Asperger Syndrome and Numan's swift slide into obscurity was greeted with gleeful relief. Documentarists Steve Read and Rob Alexander might have dwelt longer on this antipathy and how the Hammersmith-born pioneer occupied his time before they decided to profile him. But Gary Numan: Android in La La Land is an affectionate and revealing guide to the man and his music that should appeal to electronica fans, as well as the legion of die-hard Numanoids.

As parents Tony and Beryl Webb recall, the young Numan was a loner who endured a degree of bullying at school. Nobody could explain his behavioural problems, however, and he is reluctant to revisit them or how his life was transformed at the age of 15 when his father bought him a Gibson Les Paul guitar. But he concedes that this remains his favourite possession and he still plays it on stage, although few of the punk numbers he thrashed out alongside uncle Jess Lidyard and Paul Gardiner in Tubeway Army remain in his repertoire.

Biographer Steve Malins and Beggars Banquet record label boss Martin Mills reveal that the 20 year-old Numan was a single-minded individual and he fought to reinvent himself as a synth messiah after stumbling across a keyboard in the studio. He jokes that things would have been very different if the random note he played had not sounded so imposing and admits that he knew nothing about bands like Kraftwerk as he set his sights on changing the course of British pop. The success of `Are "Friends" Electric?' persuaded him to go solo and face the terrors that his now-diagnosed Asperger condition would bring. But a torrent of vitriolic reviews and articles took their toll, as Numan devoted himself to flying lessons and live shows whose ambition often outstripped the budget. Consequently, he lost his grip on the speeding express he has boarded and had to dust himself down and start all over again.

Although they don't adopt a linear approach, Read and Alexander abandon the past in the early 1980s in order to concentrate on Numan's current situation, as he seeks to end a seven-year silence with a new album. However, this revival coincides with a falling out with his father that convinces Numan that the time is right to leave the sheep on his Nottinghamshire estate and relocate to Los Angeles. Wife Gemma is all in favour of the move that will allow young daughters Raven, Echo and Persia to sample a different lifestyle. But producer Ade Fenton is staying put and Numan has to work out a long-distance arrangement to finish an album he knows could have make-or-break consequences.

Numan is happy to admit that meeting superfan Gemma O'Neill was the most important moment of his life, as she has kept him on the rails. She had set her heart on marrying him as a teenager and self-guyingly shows off the snapshots in which she had posed alongside her idol before he finally got to know her. Gemma explains about their courtship and the problems they experienced trying to get pregnant. But it's clear from the way the pair bounce off each other that this is a love match that is shared to the full by the admirably unfazed and unspoilt Raven, Echo and Persia, who tease their father and engage with the camera with a delightful naturalness that could persuade an enterprising TV producer to sign up the Numans for a reality show.

The new property in LA is exceedingly grand and Numan confesses to feeling a little spooked by its suits of armour and secret passageways. With her hair forever changing colour, Gemma quickly adapts to the Californian culture, however, while the girls revel in the fact they now have a swimming pool. While they acclimatise, Numan locks himself away in the studio built inside a garden outhouse and submits samples and snippets for Fenton's approval. He touches upon how his style has changed and how his lyrics have become more personal. In a sequence that recalls David Bowie explaining his cut-up style to Alan Yentob in Cracked Actor (1975), Numan reveals the satisfaction he derives from piecing tracks together.

But he is touchingly modest when it comes to discussing the influence his music has had on others and Gemma recalls how much confidence he drew from being invited by Trent Reznor to sing `Metal' at a Nine Inch Nails gig at the O2 Arena. The clip certainly suggests that Numan has a fan base he hasn't started to tap into. But, for every step forward he seems to take musically, his psychological frailty keeps holding him back. He reveals that he began to have panic attacks whenever he saw an old person and needed medication to cope with the ensuing depression. Gemma admits to having episodes of her own and these prompted her to patching things up with Tony and Beryl, who welcome their grandchildren for a birthday party on a flying trip back to Britain.

After Gemma displays her soldering skills to repair a hard drive damaged in transit, Numan and Fenton complete Splinter (Songs From a Broken Mind) and supervise the mastering process, while Numan frets about the promotional side of the release. However, he is looking forward to playing live and prepares for life on the road by taking an RV holiday with the family. He bickers cheerfully with Gemma at every stop, but enjoys being an ordinary dad swimming fully clothed with his girls in a remote desert pool. As the excellent reviews tumble in, however, he is faced with having to sustain the upsurge and this engaging portrait ends with him feeling cautiously optimistic and keen to move into composing film music.

Clad in a grey t-shirt and jeans and shedding the Machine era android image once and for all, Numan emerges as a candid, decent and down-to-earth bloke who has come through the conquest of his doubts and demons with renewed creativity and vigour. It's a shame that he probably steered Read and Alexander away from his lower points, as they have clearly played a significant role in shaping him, while one wonders whether Numan vetoed the inclusion of any objective critical assessments of his oeuvre. But, even if they don't always avoid making Gary and Gemma look like less loopy variations on Ozzy and Sharon Osbourne, the co-directors are right to focus on Numan's happy home life, as it has been his salvation and inspiration. Indeed, the segment in which Raven, Echo and Persia discuss what daddy does is one of the screen highlights of 2016.

Finally, this week, we should mention the annual FrightFest weekend that is taking place at the VUE Cinema West on Shepherds Bush Green between 25-29 August. Sadly, it has not been possible to get hold of enough titles to justify a comprehensive appraisal. So, we shall content ourselves with a list of titles showing across the Horror Channel, Splice Media, Arrow Video and Discovery screens.

Arranged by country, the pictures are from:- NORTH AMERICA Sean Brosnan's My Father Die; Tod Williams's Cell; Chris Spalling's Mercy; Carles Torrens's Pet; Patrick Rea's Enclosure; Jonathan Straiton's Night of Something Strange; Sean Byrne's The Devils Candy; Carson D. Mell's Another Evil; Chris Scheuerman's Lost Solace; Thomas Jakobsen's The Unravelling; Lynn Bousman Abattoir; Bobby Miller's The Master Cleanse; Jackson Stewart's Beyond the Gates; Marcel Walz's Blood Feast; Anna Biller's The Love Witch; Mitch Wilson's Knucklebones; Simon Rumley's Johnny Frank Garrett's Last Word; Rob Zombie's 31; Martin Owen's Let's Be Evil; Tim Reis's Bad Blood: The Movie; Gregg Bishop's Siren; Marcus Dunstan's The Neighbour; Adam Rifkin's Director's Cut; Rod Blackhurst's Here Alone; Sheldon Renan's The Killing of America; and Steve DeGennaro's Found Footage 3-D CANADA Cody Calahan's Let Her Out; Adam Levins's Population Zero; Tricia Lee's Blood Hunters; and Jason William Lee's The Evil in Us MEXICO Isaac Ezban's The Similars; and Emilano Rocher Minter's We Are the Flesh ARGENTINA Daniel de la Vega's White Coffin; Luciano Onetti's Francesca; and Laura Casabe's Benavidez's Case CHILE Patricio Valladres's Downfall BRAZIL Walter Lima, Jr.'s Through the Shadow JAPAN Koji Shiraishi's Sadako vs Kayako SOUTH KOREA Kim Sang-Chan's Karaoke Crazies; and Yeon Sang-Ho's Train to Busan AUSTRALIA Craig Anderson's Red Christmas SOUTH AFRICA Alastair Orr's From a House on Willow Street RUSSIA Oleg Assadulin's Paranormal Drive AUSTRIA Dominik Hartl's Attack of the Lederhosen Zombies ITALY Gabriele Mainetti's They Call Me Jeeg Robot; and Ivan Silvestrini's Monolith DENMARK Ali Abasi's Shelley HOLLAND Nick Jongerius's The Windmill Massacre FRANCE Hervé Hadmar's Beyond the Walls SPAIN Steve Barker's The Rezort; and Mateo Gil's Realive UK Ben Parker's The Chamber; Andy Edwards's Ibiza Undead; Abner Pastoll's Road Games; Marty Stalker's Hostage to the Devil; Jon Ford's Offensive; Philip Escott and Craig Newman's Cruel Summer; James Crow's House of Salem; Stewart Spark's The Creature Below; Lawrie Brewster's The Unkindness of Ravens; Brad Watson's Hallows Eve; Shaun Robert Smith's Broken; Kate Shenton's Egomaniac; Wyndham Price's Crow; and Babak Navari's Under the Shadow.