There haven't been many husband-and-wife directorial teams. Jacques Demy and Agnès Varda were married, but didn't work together. Neither did James Cameron and Kathryn Bigelow, while Volker Schlöndorff and Margarethe von Trotta's active collaboration was somewhat brief, Among the handful of couples currently making fictional features are Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris, Ryan Fleck and Anna Boden, and Hélène Cattet and Bruno Forzani, while DA Pennebaker and Chris Hegedus and Shari Springer Berman and Robert Pulcini are among the hitched documentarists. 

Having served as a producer on Colombian husband Ciro Guerra's first three features, Wandering Shadows (2004), The Wind Journeys (2009) and the Oscar-nominated Embrace of the Serpent (2015), Cristina Gallego joins him behind the camera for Birds of Passage, a fact-based chronicle of the rise of the drug trade in the northern desert region of Guajira during the period between the late 1960s and the mid-1980s that is known as `La Bonanza Marimbera'. Markedly different from the likes of Andrea Di Stefano's Escobar: Paradise Lost (2014) and Fernando León de Aranoa's Loving Pablo (2017), which centred on the cartel wars in Medellín, this is family saga that feels as though The Sopranos had been reinvented by a committee comprising Francis Ford Coppola, Brian De Palma, Sergio Leone and Alejandro Jodorowsky. 

According to Wayúu custom, a young woman approaching marriageable age has to remain in confinement for a year and devote herself to needlework. On her emergence, she participates in a courtship ritual known as the `yonna', in which she chases prospective suitors around a circle and attempts to trip him over in a bid to assess his worthiness. Encouraged not to be nervous by her mother, Úrsula Pushaina (Carmiña Martínez), Zaida (Natalia Reyes) emerges into the Guajiran sunlight with her face painted and her red cloak billowing. 

A young boy in an elaborate headdress falls quickly, as Zaida swoops over him. But Rapayet Uliana (José Acosta) is made of sterner stuff and he passes the test to the satisfaction of his uncle, Peregrino (Jose Vicente Cotes). As the Pushainas are a prominent family, however, Rapayet has his work cut out in convincing Úrsula that he is suitable for her daughter and can satisfy her dowry demands. In addressing the elders, Peregrino accepts that the Ulianas are poor relations by comparison. Yet he pleads his case eloquently and reveals that he is a shrewd businessman, who has established good connections with the alijunas, or `outsiders'.  

Úrsula is impressed by the fact Rapayet can speak Spanish as well as the local wayuunaiki dialect. But she still demands that he comes up with 30 goats, 20 cows, some decorative mules and five necklaces, two of which have to be made from tuma stones. Moreover, she warns him that she keeps hold of the tribal talisman and will be told by the spirits if he is worthy of Zaida, even if he does manage to meet her material requirements. 

Having set the scene, Guerra and Gallego launch into `Song 1: Wild Grass (1968)', which opens with Rapayet and his alijuna pal, Moisés (Jhon Narváez), selling a case of spirits to some friends of his uncle. While cutting a deal for some coffee, he spot some Americans attached to the Peace Corps mission striving to turn the people against Communism and learns that they are also looking for a cheap source of marijuana. Trekking into the mountains with Moisés, Rapayet reaches an agreement with his cousins, Anibal (Juan Bautista Martínez) and Gabriel (Joaquín Ramón), to sell weed to the Americans and they even contribute a couple of necklaces towards his dowry. 

Úrsula scarcely conceals her annoyance when Rapayet meets her terms, but Zaida seems intrigued by her suitor. A singing shepherd (Sergio Coen) warns Rapayet that paying a dowry is the easy part and that he will find it harder keeping his family together. But, when Moisés comes to serenade his new godson, Miguel, all seems well with the newlyweds at the start of `Song II: The Graves (1971)'. Úrsula looks down her nose when Moisés presents Rapayet with a truck and they fire guns into the night to celebrate the fact that they are going to scale up their business and make a killing. 

However, Moisés quickly gets ideas above his station and bursts into a family funeral to inform Rapayet that their US contacts, Peter (Sebastian Celis) and Bill (Dennis Klein), want to increase the size of their consignments. But Rapayet insists on remaining loyal to Anibal rather than bringing in outside growers and reminds Moisés that he is in charge. When they next rendezvous with Bill's oppos, it becomes clear that he has started dealing with Raphayet's rivals and Moisés shoots two of the Americans out of pique. Rapayet has them buried inside their broken up planes and returns to the village to be warned by the elders that he has to sever ties with the alijuna because family must always come first. 

Accompanied by Peregrino, Rapayet interrupts a party that Moisés is throwing and stands in silence while his uncle delivers the clan verdict. But Moisés feels betrayed by his brother and pleads with him not to cut him adrift. However, after Moisés ambushes Anibal's men and steals their weed and money, Rapayet has no option but to kill him and he returns to the village just after Zaida has given birth to their daughter, Indira. Úrsula urges him to show Anibal that he has avenged his kinsmen. But, while he accepts that his honour has been upheld, Anibal tells Úrsula and Peregrino that he wants a larger percentage of the profits and Rapayet has no option but to agree. 

By the opening of `Song III: Prosperity (1979)', transactions are completed under the gaze of armed guards from an imposing stockade. But success has had a deleterious effect on Úrsula's son, Leonidas (Greider Meza), who drunkenly brandishes a gun during a horse race in which Miguel (José Naider) is competing and feels humiliated when his mother slaps his face in front of the entire clan. Shortly afterwards, he appears in a dream in which Zaida is visited by the spirits of Gabriel and her grandmother, who warns her that Miguel is in danger. She asks Úrsula to invoke the talisman's protection and she advises her son-in-law against accepting Anibal's invitation to attend a second wake for his murdered brother. 

Peregrino claims it would be perceived as a slur if they didn't go and they pay their respects. While Gabriel's skeleton is being exhumed, however, Leonidas takes a shine to Victoria (Luisa Alfaro) and reacts angrily to her spurning his attention by forcing one of her bodyguards to eat faeces. Anibal is enraged by the insult and demands that Leonidas works in his fields as a peasant for two weeks in order to atone. Úrsula thinks the punishment is too severe, but Peregrino is eager to avoid an internecine feud and Rapayet orders Leonidas to go with Anibal's henchman, even though he is offended that he has sent an alijuna henchman (Miguel Viera) to make the demand rather than doing it in person. 

When he refuses to apologise to Victoria, Leonidas is set to work. But Úrsula is concerned that she has stopped having premonitions. Yet, while watching Zaida and Indira (Aslenis Márquez) sleeping, she feels uneasy and tells Rapayet that there will be trouble unless Leonidas comes home. Her words come true, at the outset of `Song IV: The War (1980)', after her son rapes Victoria and flees through the jungle back to the family stronghold. Anibal kills Peregrino when he comes as `word messenger' to offer the whole of Rapayet's empire to avoid bloodshed and his nephew is dismayed by this flagrant breach of Wayúu tradition.

Zaida wants Rapayet to flee to protect his children, but Úrsula demands vengeance and the elders of the neighbouring clans agree to a brutal reprisal for Peregrino's death. Moreover, she reclaims her daughter and grandchildren and gunpoint and threatens to kill Rapayet if he comes looking for them. But Anibal is so furious at the slaughter of his kinsmen that he enters into an alliance with the Medellín cartels to attack the Pushaina home. Zaida perishes in the onslaught and, as we begin `Song V: Limbo', Úrsula sends Indira to find Leonidas and never return. 

While she hides out with her uncle, Úrsula tries to bargain for Leonidas's life by betraying Rapayet. However, Anibal insists that both must pay for their actions and, having gunned down the unarmed Rapayet, he crosses the arid terrain to find his other quarry. Yet, as the film ends and the shepherd sings his last song of warning about allowing greed to cloud one's judgement, we see Anibal sell Indira three goats and she leads them away, with some difficulty, as a storm threatens to break overhead. 

In their previous collaborations, Guerra and Gallego have examined the impact of outsider interference on aspects of Colombian life and there's no doubt that the American demand for cheap drugs is primarily responsible for tipping relations between the Pushaina and Uliana families into a downward spiral. But it's greed and envy that exacerbates the fraticidal rivalry and, as a consequence, this feels much more like The Godfather (1972) than Blow (2001) in the way it shows tribal traditions and ancient codes of honour crumbling, as simple shacks are replaced by fortresses and mules give way to flashy cars and light aircraft. 

Mother love remains a key factor, however, and Carmiña Martínez is imposingly severe as the matriarch who puts the interests of her own flesh and blood above those of the wider family. Jose Vicente Cotes is equally impressive, as the sagacious uncle whose cool-headed pragmatism is not shared by Jhon Narváez, as the impetuous Moisés, and Miguel Viera, as the alijuna henchman, whose arrival in Anibal's compound reveals the extent to which the Medellín mobs have started to muscle in on the Guajiran trade. But less is required of José Acosta and Natalia Reyes, as the couple whose union upsets the Pushaina-Uliana balance, as Acosta spends much of the time looking pensive as his destiny slips through his fingers and Reyes is pushed into the shadows after her dazzling opening dance. 

Yet their characters remain pivotal to Maria Camila Arias and Jacques Toulemonde Vidal's formulaic, but fascinating story, which is told by Guerra and Gallego with measured poise and the odd moment of magic realist élan. Returning to colour after the dramatic monochrome of Embrace of the Serpent, the co-directors make evocative use of David Gallego's exceptional imagery, with some of the expansive vistas recalling the heyday of the Spaghetti Western. Yet, Angélica Perea's art direction has an almost anthropological authenticity, as the characters retain their customary hammocks, even after building themselves bastions that tower over the parched landscape. They also continue to believe in the harbingery power of birds. Carlos Garcia's sound design reinforces this shifting sense of priorities, while Leonardo Heilblum's score adeptly embraces traditional rhythms and Morricone-inflected modernity to reflect the corrosive effect of external attitudes and temptations on a once contentedly self-contained community.

Just as film directors emerged from television, advertising and music videos, it was somewhat inevitable that the Internet would become the next source of screen talent. Brazilian Joe Penna made his name with the MysteryGuitarMan channel on YouTube and he makes his feature bow with Arctic, a variation on the castaway theme that contains echoes of his sci-fi short, Turning Point (2015), which featured Jade Harlow as a woman stranded in a contaminated zone and made innovative use of elisionary pan transitions instead of traditional cuts to link the scenes. 

Having been left stranded somewhere in the Arctic Circle following a plane crash some two months earlier, Overgård (Mads Mikkelsen) carves the letters `SOS' into the snow and ice in the hope of being spotted by an aerial search team. In the meantime, he undertakes a rigorous daily routine of checking his fishing lines and maintaining a beacon. He also keeps an eye on a polar bear that has stolen some of his supplies. 

When a helicopter scouring the forbidding terrain crashes, Overgård rescues the female co-pilot (Maria Thelma Smáradóttir) and strives to keep her alive by stapling a sizeable gash in her side. He learns from a map found inside the wreckage that there is a building in relatively close proximity and he lashes the woman to the sled he retrieved from the chopper and sets out across the white expanse. He makes slow, but steady progress until he encounters a rock wall that proves impassable with his companion. 

Undaunted, Overgård decides to go around the obstacle and is forced to use one of his distress flares to frighten off the bear when it comes across the twosome in a mountain cave. Setting off again, he becomes convinced that the woman's worsening condition means she has no chance of surviving the trek. Shortly after abandoning her, however, he falls into a crevasse and traps his leg under a rock. Although he manages to free himself, Overgård further damages his leg and he is relieved to discover the woman is still when he struggles back to the sled. 

Summoning his last reserves of strength, Overgård continues his journey and sets off his last flare on spotting a helicopter. Much to his frustration, the crew fails to spot him and he sets light to his coat in a desperate bid to catch their attention. When the chopper flies away, he collapses on the snow next to his ailing patient and reaches out for her hand in acceptance of his fate. However, the helicopter had noticed them and touches down on the snow behind them, as the film ends. 

Strikingly photographed in Iceland by Tómas Örn Tómasson to emphasise the insignificance of the two dots on the landscape, this makes a much stronger visual than emotional impression. The same was also true of Felix Randau's Iceman and Harald Zwart's The 12th Man (both 2017) and Dane Mads Mikkelsen's manfully physical performance as a polar Robinson Crusoe recalls those of Jürgen Vogel in playing Kelab, the Neolithic Ötztal Alpine hunter, and Thomas Gullestad as Norwegian resistance hero Jan Baalsrud. Indeed, one is struck throughout this earnest, but rarely pulse-troubling adventure of the similarity of the action with such recent pictures as Kevin Macdonald's Touching the Void (2003), Ridley Scott's The Martian, Alejandro González Iñárritu's The Revenant (both 2015), and Wolfgang Fischer's Styx (2018).

This lack of narrative novelty is hardly surprising, however, as Penna and his editor and co-scenarist Ryan Morrison leave themselves little room for manoeuvre by imposing a sense of Bressonian austerity on the action that carries over into Joseph Trapanese's score and Mark Mangini's sound design. There are arresting set-pieces, such as the howling storm that drives Mikkelsen into the fuselage of the plane. But, even though they appear to eschew computer-generated effects, the showdown with the polar bear and the battle to free his trapped leg feel more formulaic and undermine Penna's rather blatant bid for cinematic credibility by proving he has more in his locker than website whimsicality. It will be interesting to see what he does with his recently announced sci-fi thriller, Stowaway.

The month's second CinemaItaliaUK presentation is Gigi Roccati's Lucania. Having started out making documentaries like Living Utopia and the Birth of Freedom (2005), The Legend of Ixquik (2007) and Road to Kabul (2012), Roccati made his fictional feature bow with Babylon Sisters, which CinemaItaliaUK screened in London in 2017. Adapted from Laila Wadia's book, Friends for Life, this touching tale of communal unity put a cosy gloss on the ongoing migrant crisis in much the same way that `neorealismo rosa' had viewed Italy's postwar woes through a rose-tinted lens. In turning to the bond between the land and the people who work it, Roccati opts to set an ancient story in modern times and, once again, invokes the spirit of Italy's rich screen heritage. 

Rocco (Giovanni Capalbo) works every waking hour on the small plot of land he has tended alone since the death of his wife, Argenzia (Maia Morgenstern). His daughter, Lucia (Angela Fontana), hasn't uttered a word since losing her mother. But she has the gift of sensing her spirit and enjoys seeing her around the house, as Rocco criticises her cooking and scolds her for spending her time talking to the wind. 

In a bid to drive out the evil force he believes has silenced his child, Rocco asks Rosina (Luciana Paolicelli) to perform purification rituals. But Lucia refuses to take them seriously and makes Argenzia smile when she stalks behind Rosina, as she prowls the room chanting her incantations. She proves equally playful with a handsome lad (Elia Longo), who roughhouses with her in the woods. But Rocco comes to fear for her safety after trucker Carmine (Pippo Delbono) threatens him for refusing to allow him to bury toxic waste on his property. 

One night, Rocco catches two strangers dumping liquid waste in the middle of the night and drives them off with his shotgun. When they return to set light to his barn, he shoots them down and urges Lucia to leave quickly before the police arrive. With Argenzia walking through the wind and rain beside her, Lucia follows her father to a ruined castle, where they camp for the night. She rests her head on her mother's lap, as she listens to a lullaby beside a crackling fire and wonders if she will ever see her home again. 

Meanwhile, Don Fortunato (Marco Leonardi) is furious with Carmine for making such a mess of forcing Rocco off his land and he reminds him that he is a legitimate businessman who cannot afford a hint of scandal. When Carmine resumes his search of the surrounding countryside, he sees Rocco and Lucia crossing a lake in a fisherman's boat and bellows after him. The old man warns Rocco that the far shore has been poisoned, on landing, and they quickly discover the dead trees and have to cover their mouths with scarves against the noxious fumes in the air. Even Argenzia wraps her shawl around her head and follows her loved ones, as they seek refuge in an abandoned hilltop village. 

As they rest, Rocco tells Lucia about her mother talking to the clouds and how he sometimes feels her presence in the fields when he is working. He imagines her bringing him food and sitting beside him to enjoy the tranquility. Yet she has never appeared in his dreams and he feels she has deserted him. They sleep in an empty house and Lucia wakes to hear sheep bleating outside. She consoles a heartbroken shepherd  (Giorgio Lo Russo), as his animals lie dying on the tainted ground. But she has to take cover, as Carmine has tracked them down and she ushers her father into a cellar while their pursuer stalks between houses. He calls his sidekick, Saverio (Nando Irene), to order him to continue with the dumping and asks after the health of his son, who is in a coma after Rocco shot him. 

As they stumble along woodland paths that the brigands of old had used, Rocco develops a fever and becomes delirious in the night. But Lucia nurses him and he dreams for the first time since he was a boy and he thanks her for curing him. As they trudge on across spectacular, but inhospitable terrain, Rocco hopes to find shelter with his old friend, Antonio (Antonio Infantino). He mistakes Lucia for Argenzia, but is happy to see them and pleased when Lucia asks him to play his guitar. That night, Rocco builds a bonfire inside a circle of whitewashed stones and Lucia dances to the pounding drums of the shepherds and Antonio's evocative song, which prompts her to shriek into the darkness. 

When she wakes, the next morning, Lucia says `mother' and, at that moment, Carmine's son (Enzo Saponara) comes round. Antonio tells them to take the bus to Vulture, where his friend Christo (Christo Jivkov) lives with his daughter, Maria (Marta Manduca). Their land is healthy and fruitful and Lucia luxuriates in a bubble bath before going to play in the orchard with Maria and her younger siblings. However, Carmine has tracked them down and he bundles Lucia into the back of his van and sends Maria with a message for Rocco to meet him in a secluded place. 

Christo drives him there, but Rocco insists on going to meet Carmine alone. He insists he had no idea that he had shot his son and accepts the offer of an embrace. But, as Maria watches through the rear window, Carmine stabs his neighbour and drives away. Rocco asks Lucia to help him to the beach so he can see the sea for the last time and Argenzia comes to support him, as he reclines against a gnarled log. She implores him not to be afraid and both mother and father tell Lucia to live her life to the full. She runs away from the painful parental pieta, as the scene fades to black. 

Taking its title from the ancient name of the southern province of Basilicata, this compelling picaresque has much in common with Vittorio De Seta's Bandits of Orgosolo (1960), another fugitive tale that makes use of the rocky landscape of Sardinia in much the same way that Roccati does the Appenines and the Tyrrhenian coastline, which are photographed in all their forbidding majesty by Salvatore Landi. However, the scenes in the abandoned hill village also bring to mind Pippo Mezzapesa's Il Bene Mio/My Own Good, which was filmed in the earthquake-ravaged ghost town of Apice and was screened by CinemaItaliaUK last Sunday. 

Scripted by Roccati, Carlo Longo, Davide Manuli and Gino Ventriglia, the narrative is clearly densely packed with more symbolism than a distant outsider can appreciate. But the fragility of nature and the folly of those who fail to realise that reckless spoliation cannot be undone and that entire communities will be eradicated as a result of their thoughtless greed. Typically, while Giovanni Capalbo pays the ultimate price for defending his turf, gangsters like the suavely uncaring Marco Leonardi get away scot free and continue to ravage in the pursuit of profit and power. But Roccati leaves us with the hope that Angela Fontana, as the embodiment of Mother Earth, can keep the past alive in bringing about a better future that is encapsulated in the wondrous score by Gabriele Bonolis,, Cypress Grove, Maria Angeli and Antonio Infantino (to whom the picture is dedicated).

Having followed the documentaries A Summer at Abarbanel (2005) and Surrogate (2008) with her feature bow, Princess (2014), Israeli director Tali Shalom-Ezer makes her American debut with My Days of Mercy, a lesbian love story that also examines the debates around the death penalty. Scripted by Joe Barton - an emerging small-screen writer whose previous feature credits were Adam Randall's iBoy and David Bruckner's The Ritual (both 2017) - this doesn't always strike the right balance between advocacy and romance. But, if one can forgive the occasional cumbersome contrivance, this is a thoughtful and sincere attempt to approach a contentious issue from a new angle. 

Siblings Martha (Amy Seimetz), Lucy (Ellen Page) and Ben Moro (Charlie Shotwell) travel by camper van to the Kentucky Midlands Penitentiary at Eddyville to demonstrate against the imminent execution of a mentally disturbed man who shot an off-duty cop. While wandering around the camp site on the night before the lethal injection is administered, Lucy bumps into Mercy (Kate Mara), whose father was the dead cop's partner and is a leading figure in a group that supports capital punishment. They flirt over a cigarette and Lucy looks up Mercy online after they return home. 

She hopes to get a job in the local bar, but her situation is complicated by the fact that her father, Simon (Elias Koteas), has been on Death Row for the last eight years, in spite of the fact he insists that he didn't murder his wife. When news of his execution date comes through, lawyer Shane Weldon (Brian Geraghty) promises to do what he can to help, although Lucy has little respect for him because he is sleeping with Martha on a `pro-boning' basis. 

At the next protest, Lucy bumps into Mercy, who persuades her to slip away for a drink in a nearby bar. They establish the fact that neither has a boyfriend before Mercy cradles a tipsy Lucy when she recalls how Simon was arrested after a witness claimed to have seen him throwing a knife into a bush after her mother was stabbed. She wants to believe in his innocence and wishes they could afford a better lawyer, but they struggle to make ends meet and she fears he will be executed and that the family will fall apart with the cause to unite them.

When they take their places outside the prison the next day, Martha notices the glances they exchange and Lucy feels a thrill when Mercy gives her a hair tie as a parting gift. She goes to visit her father, who keeps hoping that justice will be served and is grateful for the news that Lucy brings him from home. While she is mooching around the kitchen, she gets a Skype call from Mercy and has to run upstairs and barricade herself in her bedroom to keep the laptop out of Ben's clutches. Middle-class and self-assured, Mercy does much of the talking and Lucy thanks her when she mentions she works for a law firm that might be able to help with Simon's case. However, she also teases her for doing her bit to oppose the death penalty. 

Martha thinks it would be better sticking with Shane, as time is running out and he is more familiar with the background. But Lucy has complete faith in Mercy and, when Ben falls ill on the weekend of their next protest, she drives off in the Winnebago to avoid having to babysit him. Initially unable to see Mercy at a raucous stand-off, Lucy walks across the divide to greet her with a hug and they slip off to spend the afternoon on a riverbank. When Lucy suggests that she stays the night, Martha gets twitchy and they end up having an argument about how Lucy might feel once Simon's sentence has been carried out. 

She collapses into bed and ignores her friend Agatha (Tonya Pinkins) when she knocks to check she's okay. But Mercy doesn't take no for an answer and insists on driving Lucy home. They patch things up en route and get the giggles when Lucy describes her unsuccessful dates with boys. Moreover, after Mercy insists they pull over so she can sing along to her favourite song on the radio, they tumble into bed and hold hands for the rest of the journey. However, Martha is less than impressed when she finds them in the front room, with Mercy asking Lucy about the day she came home to find her mother's body. Martha describes an intruder scenario that departs in several details from Lucy's responses to Mercy's questions and lets her sister no in no uncertain terms that she disapproves of her liaison.

Nevertheless, Lucy and Mercy sleep together and spend much of the next day gazing at each other on laptop screens. However, while Martha and Ben are out, Shane comes with news that a hair found at the crime scene has been found to belong to a known criminal and that Simon might well have been the victim of a miscarriage of justice. But he is also worried about whether Martha will dump him when the case closes and Lucy has to reassure him that her sister is foolisly loyal, even though she freely admits that she can't stand him. 

The sense of optimism doesn't last long, however, as the suspect has an alibi and further tests reveal a spot of his wife's blood on Simon's shirt. Shane gets his face slapped when he suggests that the evidence is damning and Lucy blames Martha for convincing her of their father's innocence and making her believe in a dream. She drives from Ohio to Illinois to see Mercy, only to discover that she still lives with her parents and is dating her male boss. 

On their next visit to the penitentiary, Simon tries to talk Martha into getting back together with Shane in the hope that he will stay on the case. Lucy glares at him with contempt from across the tiny room and she is amazed when Martha suggests that they leave town and start a new life somewhere else. Ben asks to move beside the sea and they agree to relocate to California. By the time Mercy comes back to the house, therefore, the family has packed up and moved out - leaving the TV cabinet on top of the bloodstain they couldn't get out of the carpet.

Mercy waits at the gates for Lucy on the day of the execution and joins her and Martha in the viewing gallery, as Agatha keeps an eye on Ben. Black screens separate to reveal Simon strapped to a table with a drip in his arm. His daughters stand when they see the terror in his eyes and both sob, as he slips away. Outside, Lucy thanks Mercy for coming, while Martha tells Ben a little white lie that his father had shown remorse for what he had done. 

Six months later, Lucy has a job as a waitress. One day, she is surprised to see Mercy at the window. They meet up in the back alley for a cigarette and Mercy tries to apologise in telling Lucy that she has quit her job and broken up with her boyfriend. Despite hugging her, Lucy admits she thinks it will be hard to accept Mercy back into her life. But they agree to go out that evening and see where they end up. 

Nothing quite rings true about this well-intentioned drama, as the competence of the playing and direction keeps repeatedly being undermined by flaws in the writing. It's asking a lot to believe that nobody at the prison protests would have noticed or commented upon the burgeoning romance between women on such diametrically opposed sides of a hugely emotive debate. Furthermore, it seems highly unlikely that Mercy's family would not have known about their daughter's secret liaison, as her father is a cop and a prominent figure in the movement. But, while Barton is allowed a little leeway in shaping his love story, he can't be cut such slack when it comes to the forensic revelations that confirm Simon's guilt. What have the investigators been doing for the last eight years if they have only just managed to find a rogue hair and a telltale bloodstain on the prime suspect's shirt?

While such sloppiness strains the credibility of the entire legal plotline, the schematic happy ending also seems more than a little far fetched, as Mercy hires a private investigator to track down her lover, whose sense of betrayal simply melts away after the first tentative hug. Indeed, even Ellen Page and Kate Mara (who co-produced with the legendary Christine Vachon) seem a little unconvinced. But we shouldn't be too surprised by the speed of their reunion, as they fell in love at first sight and seem to base their entire relationship on physical attraction, as their conversations make it clear they have little else in common. Nevertheless, the pair commit to their roles, as does Amy Seimetz, whose long-suffering older sister has to life with her conscience after sleeping with Brian Geraghty in order to have legal advice on tap. 

Allying with production designer Maya Sigel and Polish cinematographer Radek Ladczuk capably to capture the look, if not the feel of the Midwest, Tali Shalom-Ezer directs steadily, although there's something unsettlingly twee about the decision to preface each protest with a top shot of the prisoner's last meal and a caption outlining their crime, location and mode of execution. But the execution sequence itself is handled with such discretion that its non-propagandising potency is redoubled and leaves a much more indelible impression than the melodramatics leading up to it.

It should be a source of pride for British moviegoers that homegrown film-makers keep defying the odds to produce watchable features on shoestring budgets. Last week, we commended Jamie Adams for undertaking a project like Songbird. But his laudably steady output is surpassed by that of 32 year-old Brighton auteur Jamie Patterson, who has been churning out titles at a phenomenal rate since debuting with Swimming in Circles (2011). In addition to the 2012 short, The Underdog in the Red Dress, the teleplays Drama School (2011) and Big Face, Little Face (2018), and the TV series, Wars (2018), Patterson has also directed 10 features in seven years: Billboard, Daisy (both 2011), City of Dreamers (2012), Blind Date, Home For Christmas (both 2014), Winners (2015), Fractured (2016), Caught (2017), Tracks and Tucked (both 2018).

It's the latter that has made its way on to the general release schedule this week, after the remainder had largely debuted on the festival circuit. Filmed in Patterson's hometown, it reunites him with veteran actor Derren Nesbitt, who had taken a supporting role in Home For Christmas. Although many will remember him as the Gestapo officer in Brian G. Hutton's 1968 adaptation of Alistair MacLean's war thriller, Where Eagles Dare, Nesbitt played a pivotal part in a gay cinema landmark, when he blackmailed lawyer Dirk Bogarde in Basil Dearden's Victim (1961). While it's good to see the 83 year-old in such fine fettle, it's a shame that Patterson has missed an opportunity to make an equally worthwhile contribution to the ongoing debate about gender identity by opting to dwell on the sentimentally melodramatic problems of his straight protagonist rather than the issues facing his non-binary protégé. 

Drag queen Jackie Collins (Derren Nesbitt) has the audience eating out of the palm of his hands, while indulging in some risqué banter after miming along to the old Gloria Gaynor hit, `I Will Survive'. Ironically, after collapsing in the kitchen of his poky flat, he discovers he is suffering from an aggressive form of cancer and only has some six weeks to live. But he says nothing to his boss, Alex (Joss Porter), when he asks him to keep an eye on a new recruit, Faith (Jordan Stephens). Indeed, he shows no signs of being weakened when he thumps one of the homophobic louts giving Faith grief during a cigarette  break in the alley behind the club and the pair strike up a rapport while waiting for Jackie to be seen in casualty. 

Impressed by Faith's singing and sympathetic to their plight after being thrown out by their bigoted father, Jackie offers them Faith his couch after seeing them go to sleep in their car. The next morning, after Faith cooks breakfast, they establish that Jackie is a straight man who likes to dress in women's clothing and that Faith is an individual who refuses to be defined by their gender. Jackie also reveals that he hasn't spoken to his daughter, Lily (April Pearson), for a decade because he refused to go to his late wife's funeral after she had made it clear that she didn't want him around while she was dying. 

Ignoring Alex's suggestion that it might not be appropriate for the 21 year-old Faith to be staying at his flat, the 74 year-old Jackie takes to the stage, after being given a big build-up by the MC (Brendon Bruce), and is in the middle of another smutty routine when he collapses. The doctor (Ruben Crow) urges him to take his pills and suggests quitting his act. But Jackie has no intention of giving up something he loves in order to live another few days. He is. however, touched by Faith's concern and agrees to their suggestion to contact Lily via Facebook. Lying awake, Jackie struggles to find the right words to apologise and assure his daughter that he loves her and the stress of the situation causes him to break down in tears on the kitchen floor, as Faith consoles him. 

In a bid to cheer him up, Faith suggests ticking off an item on Jackie's bucket list. They go to a pole-dancing club, where Faith pays for a private dance with Josie (Lucy-Jane Quinlan). Embarrassed by the age difference, but aware he hasn't seen a woman topless in 20 years, Jackie chats to Josie as she gyrates and reassures him that she has no qualms about performing for him. She reveals she's a lesbian before sitting on his lap, clasping his hands over her breasts and inviting him to call again whenever he wants. 

Thanking Faith for a highly pleasurable experience, Jackie goes to the cemetery to pay his overdue respects to his wife. He tells her about Josie before asking how she has been keeping. Removing his cap, Jackie apologises for hurting her with the revelation that he liked to cross-dress and asks her not to shout at him when they next see each other, as he doesn't want to spend eternity knowing that she still hates him. 

Arriving at the club to find Faith having a blazing row in the dressing-room with Mollie (Stephanie Diane Starlet), Jackie urges them to stop behaving like divas. He taunts Molly that Faith will always be half her age and follows Faith into the alley to remind them that he will always be there for them. But Faith lets slip an unkind remark about Jackie not having much time and he goes for a long drive along the coast before spending a day alone in the flat after Faith fails to come home. 

Jackie finds them sitting on the bonnet of their car when he goes to the club and they make up in time to pay a visit to Daryl (Steve Oram), a Brummie drug dealer who asks several blunt questions about genitalia and gender before selling them some cocaine. They party into the night and crash out on the sofa. The next morning, while Jackie soaks in the bath, Faith asks about when he started wearing women's clothes and he reveals that his wife discovered his secret when she came home unexpectedly and found him dancing to Tom Jones in her wedding dress. 

After Jackie gets a tattoo on his chest and chats to a small girl on a park bench about nail polish, he gets home to find that Faith has cooked an inedible surprise supper. He claims Faith is like the son he never had and Faith replies by calling Jackie `the cross-dressing grandad I always wanted'. During his set that night, Jackie spots Lily in the crowd and they chat backstage. After a brief catch-up exchange, she berates him for abandoning her when she needed him and he promises that he never stopped loving her and was trying to ease the pain by staying away. She asks him to walk her down the aisle in a month and, withholding the truth about his condition, he readily accepts the invitation and smiles when Lily asks him not to upstage her dress. 

As the image fades on Jackie sobbing at his mirror, a caption informs us that a year has passed. Faith is recycling Jackie's jokes on stage and they namecheck Lily before thanking Jackie for taking them in and accepting them for who they were. Lily smiles alongside her husband when Faith reveals that Jackie lived to see her big day and everyone applauds when Faith salutes his memory. 

Cross-dressing has been a British stage tradition since before Shakespeare's time. But much has changed since the days of Lilly Savage, let alone Danny La Rue, Stanley Baxter and Barry Humphries. Consequently, in comparison with such recent outings as Paddy Breathnach's Viva (2015) and Armando Praça's Greta (2018), Jamie Patterson's off-couple dramedy feels a little old fashioned in its approach to both drag queens and the tricky topic of sexual identity suggested by its title. Indeed, apart from a couple of ignorant speeches by the MC and Daryl the drug dealer, the script pushes the issue into the background, as Patterson focuses on Jackie's terminal illness and the need to make amends with his daughter before it's too late. 

Even that confrontation rather fizzles out, however, as Lily isn't sure whether to be furious or forgiving and Jackie is too busy apologising to attempt a soul-baring justification of his actions. Nevertheless, the scene is played with a sincerity that permeates proceedings, even though there is plenty of waspish humour to go with the antiquated gags that Jackie uses in his act. Yet there's no escaping the fact that Faith's backstory is treated as little more than a convenient plot point that helps facilitate the age-gap friendship without making it seem sordid (not that it ever could be perceived as such, however, as Jack(ie)'s heterosexuality is forever being thrust in the audience's face).

Despite the narrative imbalance, Nesbitt and Razzle Kicks rapper Jordan Stephens establish a decent rapport. Indeed, they often says more with sly glances than Patterson manages with his well-meaning, but occasionally tin-eared and carelessly pronouned dialogue. In conjunction with production designer Laura Little and cinematographer Paul O'Callaghan, he capably conveys the seedy chic of the nightclub, which is reinforced by Lucy Upton-Prowse's costumes and the hair and make-up designs of April Pearson and Melissa Sweeting. The odd glimpses of the Sussex coast are also welcome. But this is primarily about Nesbitt and Stephens and the part of the story that Patterson conspicuously leaves untold.

Having screened at a few festivals, Lukasz Palkowski's directorial debut is now available to stream online. Known as both Breaking the Limits and The Fastest, this biopic of reformed drug addict and champion triathlete Jerzy Górski seeks to show that nothing is impossible, even for those who have fallen off the lowest rung of the social ladder. But, while the message is undoubtedly inspirational, the storytelling style lacks finesse and focus. 

It's the 1970s in the south-western Polish town of Glogów and Jerzy Górski (Jakub Gierszal) is enduring a miserable existence with his mother (Magdalena Cielecka) and abusive father (Artur Zmijewski). Despite the objections of her Communist Party apparatchik father (Adam Woronowicz), Górski is dating Grasnya (Anna Próchniak) and survives a beating from the local thugs sent to warn him off. In a bid to escape from the drudgery of their everyday existence, the pair experiment with drugs. But, while they joke about decadent Western kids shooting up as part of their university philosophy courses, Górski and Grasnya become hooked. 

Indeed, within two years, they have come to look like walking skeletons and Górski does time behind bars before finding his way into rehab. Encouraged by Dr Ewa Meller (Kamila Kaminska), he beats his addiction and gets a job at a swimming pool. The boss boss (Arkadiusz Jakubik) also has faith in him and urges him to stick to a punishing training regime to get his body back into shape. Having been a promising junior athlete, Górski knows all about the adrenaline highs that come from sporting achievement and he sets himself the target of entering a triathlon. 

He has another reason to turn his life around, however, as, before she died, Grasnya gave birth to a daughter named Lilka (Laura Sobocinska) and Górski vows to become a good father to her. With the likes of pioneering charity worker Marek Kotanski (Janusz Gajos) in his corner, Górski begins to show promise and he is entered for the 1990 World Triathlon Championships Double Ironman competition at Huntsville, Alabama. The event consists of an 8km swim, a 360km bike ride and an 84km run. But not only does Górski conquer his demons to surpass all expectations, but he also wins in a record time of 24 hours, 47 minutes and 46 seconds. 

One can't imagine a Hollywood director approaching this back from the brink story any differently to Palkowski. Consequently, there's plenty of driving period rock music from the likes of Steppenwolf and The Doors, while editor Jaroslaw Barzan seems to be attempting to set a personal best for the most montage sequences in one film. The Rocky movies have shown how efficacious a good training spurt can be, but four feels like overkill. 

In fact, Palkowski and screenwriters Agatha Dominik and Maciej Karpinski have a habit of pushing things to the limit and, as a result, this often feels like an endurance event in its own right. Nevertheless, Jakub Gierszal (who had to learn to swim to play the part) gets the audience on his side, with a doughty display of personal and sporting redemption that goes some way to atoning for the superficial treatment of the impact of authoritarianism on Poland's social malaise in the two decades before the collapse of the one-party system and the sentimental depiction of Górski's domestic situation.

Having been unhappy at being regarded as a director for hire in replacing Anthony Mann on Spartacus (1960) and then having what he considered key scenes removed by the studio to avoid a clash with the Production Code Administration, Stanley Kubrick was further frustrated by his inability to receive the green light on a number of projects. Among them were The Getaway, The German Lieutenant, The Last Parallel, a biopic of Civil War general John Mosby and One-Eyed Jacks, with Marlon Brando. Kubrick even tried to mount a TV sitcom based on Ernie Kovacs's character in Operation Mad Ball (1958). 

Eventually, he grew so disillusioned with Hollywood that he relocated to the UK in 1961 to guarantee full artistic control over his adaptation of Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita (1962), which proved predictably controversial. Having toyed with the idea of another underage sex comedy,  The Passion Flower Hotel, Kubrick parted company with production partner James B. Harris and re-teamed with Peter Sellers on Dr Strangelove: or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964). 

It says much for the times in which the film was released that Columbia Pictures had to preface the action with the following caption: `It is the stated position of the United States Air Force that their safeguards would prevent the occurrence of such events as are depicted in this film. Furthermore, it should be noted that none of the characters portrayed in this film are meant to represent any real persons living or dead.'

Suitably reassured, audiences could settle back and let the narrator inform them of the existence of the Doomsday Device that the Soviet Union is rumoured to be developing in a secret Arctic location. Following shots of a B-52 Strategic Air Command nuclear bomber being refuelled in mid-air to the strains of `Try a Little Tenderness', we are descend to Burpleson Air Force Base, somewhere in England, where USAF Brigadier General Jack D. Ripper (Sterling Hayden) is instructing RAF Group Captain Lionel Mandrake (Peter Sellers) that he has implemented a Red Alert after receiving information of a sneak Soviet attack. Executing his orders to launch Plan R (for Romeo) of Operation Dropkick is Major T. J. `King' Kong (Slim Pickens), who locks down his radio to block calls from anyone other than Ripper and sets a course to give the Russkies a taste of their own medicine. 

When Mandrake opines that a mistake might have been made, as Soviet radio broadcasts are playing non-military music, Ripper confides that the USSR has been using fluoridation to pollute America's water supply and that he has a duty to protect the nation's `precious bodily fluids', General Buck Turgidson (George C. Scott) postpones an assignation with his secretary, Miss Scott (Tracy Reed), to meet with President Merkin Muffley (Peter Sellers) in the War Room. He explains how a senior officer can put Plan R into action if he believes his superiors to have been killed in a strike on Washington and suggests that Muffley allows the attack to go ahead, as it's worth `getting our hair mussed' to teach the Soviets a lesson. However, the president refuses to be responsible for Armageddon and summons Moscow's ambassador, Alexei de Sadeski (Peter Bull), and calls the Soviet premier, Dimitri Kissov (who remains unseen and unheard throughout), to warn him that a B-52 is on the way and reassure him that every efforts is being made to discover the CRM code that could stand it down.

Turgidson is appalled when the Commander in Chief gives Kissov the bomber's co-ordinates and targets and is thunderstruck when De Sadeski reveals that the Soviet Union has created a doomsday machine that will trigger a series of explosions in the event of an unprovoked attack that will render the planet uninhabitable for 93 years. Turgidson attempts to scuffle with the ambassador, only for Muffley to snap, `Gentlemen! You can't fight in here. This is the War Room.' Muffley's wheelchair-bound German scientific adviser, Dr Strangelove (Peter Sellers), questions the efficacy of a deterrent no one knows anything about and De Sadeski explains that Kissov had planned to make the announcement at the next Party congress because he loves surprises. 

Back at Burpleson, Ripper mounts a rearguard to defend the base from the RAF military police. Blaming an old war wound for his disinclination to take part, Mandrake tries to talk Ripper into calling off the attack. But he is much madder than Mandrake realises and commits suicide because he fears that he will give away the CRM code under torture. In fact, he has given it away in the doodles on his desk jotter and Mandrake is cottoning on to the significance of the words `Peace on Earth' and `Purity of Essence' when the office is raided by Colonel `Bat' Guano (Keenan Wynn), who doesn't recognise the RAF uniform and takes some convincing that Mandrake isn't a Commie in disguise. 

By the time he is persuaded to let Mandrake call the White House with the CRM code, Kong's radio has been damaged by a missile and is unable to receive any incoming calls. Aghast that this rogue plane (nicknamed `The Leper Colony') is still approaching Soviet air space, Muffley makes one last attempt to calm the now hysterical Kissov. There's brief hope that the crisis can be averted when the B-52's bomb bay doors jam. But Kong and Bombardier Lothar Zogg (James Earl Jones) prise them open and Kong instructs co-pilot `Ace' Owens (Shane Rimmer) to position him over the target so he can bestride a missile inscribed `Hi There' like a rodeo rider, waving his Stetson and hollering like a good ol' boy. 

Back in the War Room, Strangelove accidentally calls Muffley `Mein Führer' and struggles to stop his right arm from spontaneously making Nazi salutes, as he seeks to explain how life could go on after the conflagration. While Turgidson questions how Strangelove's 100 Year Plan would work, De Sadeski sidles away to photograph the Big Board with a camera hidden in his watch. But such espionage seems pointless, as the Doomsday Machine is about to detonate and, as Strangelove leaps to his feat and declares that he can walk again, the screen fills with mushroom clouds, as Vera Lynn's `We'll Meet Again' plays on the soundtrack. 

Kubrick earned three Oscar nominations, for Best Picture, Director and Adapted Screenplay, while Sellers landed a Best Actor nod for his portrayal of three different characters in this irreverent take on Peter George's deadly earnest novel, Red Alert, which had originally been published as Two Hours to Doom. But cinematographer Gilbert Taylor should also have been cited, while Sterling Hayden and George C. Scott are magnificent as the hawkish Americans who would have considered the Cuban Missile Crisis to have been a humiliating climbdown. Indeed, despite the opening denial, factual references abound in Kubrick and Terry Southern's Swiftian screenplay and contemporary audiences would have recognised the similarity between many of the characters and prominent figures in American political and military life. 

Sellers was set to play `King' Kong before an ankle injury prompted the role to be recast. Ex-rodeo clown Slim Pickens stepped into the breach and the film's most iconic moment. However, it would surely have been surpassed had Kubrick retained his original finale, in which a custard pie fight breaks out in art director Ken Adam's deliciously subversive War Room. Various theories have arisen as to why the sequence was cut. The most likely is that Kubrick felt that the Keystonesque slapstick was out of keeping with the satirical tone. However, it has been suggested that Columbia executives ordered the change after seeing a preview around the time of the assassination of John F. Kennedy in November 1963 and deciding that the gags about the president being splattered were in dubious taste.

Many people thought (/hoped) that Shinichiro Ueda's One Cut of the Dead (2017) had killed the zomcom stone dead. But that's the problem with zombie comedies. They keep coming back, as Drew Cullingham's Shed of the Dead demonstrates. This isn't the writer-director's first trip along horror's darkened side streets, as he debuted with Umbrage: The First Vampire (2009). However, this marks a return after Cullingham tried his hand at the psychological thriller (Monk3ys, 2011), the sibling ghost story (Black Smoke Rising, 2012) and apocalyptic science fiction (The Devil's Bargain, 2014). Those who persist in finding Edgar Wright's Shaun of the Dead (2004) amusing might want to seek it out on VOD after it plays at the Sci-Fi London festival. It would certainly make for an fun double bill over beer and nibbles with Declan Shrubb's Me and My Mates vs the Zombie Apocalypse (2016). But this is for primarily for genre geeks. 

Following some booming narration from Brian Blessed about a zombie slayer named Casimir, we meet Trevor (Spencer Brown), who is painting model gaming figures in his shed on an allotment abutting a railway line. His Canadian neighbour, Parsons (Kane Hodder), has raised a petition to have him evicted because his plot is an overgrown eyesore. But Doc (Bill Moseley) reassures Trevor that he didn't sign, as his motto is `live and let live'.

Arriving home to little sympathy from wife Bobbi (Lauren Socha) and her beautician mate Harriet (Emily Booth), Trevor pours out his woes to gaming buddy Graham (Ewen MacIntosh). He has a dubious obsession with Harriet, who is having a kinky fling with the much older Derek (Michael Berryman). Unfortunately, she gives him a heart attack during some S&M horse play and Bobbi offers her half-hearted commiserations, as she is preoccupied with berating Trevor for being an asthmatic dweeb who can't get a job. 

Following a row with Parsons, however, Trevor has a corpse of his own to worry about and Graham opines that moving it into his shed after Parsons had tripped and impaled his skull on a rake makes it look much less like an accident. Too busy cursing his ill luck to notice the city behind him in flames, Trevor borrows an axe to dispose of Parsons. While he digs a shallow grave, he fails to hear the radio discussion of the zombie apocalypse and it's only when Parson's legless torso makes a grab at him that he tries to escape. With a spade handle jamming the door, however, Trevor has to climb through a loose panel in the roof after a protracted struggle that is only halted by the muzak playing on the 999 hotline that sends Parsons to sleep.

Furious with Graham for refusing to come and rescue him, Trevor passes out from his exertions. He comes round to find Graham wearing a memorabilia warrior helmet and insisting that they find Bobbi and Harriet. Doc (who Graham has always suspected of being a serial killer) helps them dispose of three zombies and urges them to finish him off if they bite him as he would rather be one of the dead dead than the living dead. 

With Derek now among the ravenous revenants, Trevor and Graham get home, only for Bobbi to thwack her blood-spattered spouse with a frying pan. Revelling in a reverie in which he imagines himself as Casimir being kissed by three sisters, Trevor comes round to discover that Bobbi and Harriet have been exploring their Sapphic instincts while he was out. While he takes a shower, however (during which Casimir has vigorous sex with Harriet in a skimpy warrior outfit), Harriet gets bitten by Derek and they all end up hiding in the bathroom while he marauds around the house in his bondage gear. 

Having taken one for the team in distracting Derek, Graham is devoured by Harriet to allow Trevor and Bobbi to flee to the allotment. Unfortunately, she gets bitten and sacrifices herself to enable Graham to escape after he has a chat with Graham in their role-playing guise and he realises he needs to trap the zombies in the shed and torch it with his homemade potato vodka. Twenty-eight fortnights later, Trevor is living off the land and has acquired a powerful shotgun that he uses to blast the turned Doc, who gets to be a dead dead after all. 

Give the stars their due, they don't hold back in this gleeful romp, which makes up for the dearth of belly laughs with some knowingly spatterful shtick. Moreover, Cullingham gives the fanboys a little extra bang for their buck by casting such genre icons as Michael Berryman (The Hills Have Eyes), Bill Moseley (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2) and Kane Holder (Friday the 13th) in key supporting roles, as well as cult favourites like Warren Speed, who makes a blink and you'll miss him cameo appearance in the Pervo the Clown costume he wore in the self-directed (with Steve O'Brien) Zombie Women of Satan (2009). 

Channelling his inner Simon Pegg via Josh Widdecombe, Spencer Brown isn't the most likeable anti-hero, but he banters briskly with the dependable Ewen McIntosh doing a passable Nick Frost impression, while Lauren Socha is swearily assured as Brown's spiky spouse. There's also much to commend about Stephen Murphy's cinematography (with the shot of Brown and Socha silhouetted in the moonlight being rather splendid), Reinhard Besser's rousing score and Stephen Hedley's canny editing, which prevents viewers from getting too close a look at gore effects that are primarily intended to raise guffaws rather than the hairs on the back of one's neck. Less successful are the Mittyish cutaways to the Game of Thrones-like neverland, while the vein of leeringly laddish humour is hugely resistible. But, if you fancy a little Romero lite with a few yuks of both kinds, you could do a lot worse.

Documentarists Dana Nachman and Don Hardy make quite a team. In addition to the four full-length actualities they have made together - Witch Hunt (2008), Love Hate Love (2011), The Human Experiment (2013) and Batkid Begins (2015) - Hardy has also directed the features Sound Man: WWII to MP3 (2006) and Theory of Obscurity: A Film About The Residents (2015), while Nachman has followed up her trio of regional Emmys with the shorts, Washed Away and The Final Show (both 2016). They join forces again on Pick of the Litter, a touching, if prosaic study of the rigorous and lengthy process involved in selecting and training a guide dog for the blind. 

After testimony from grateful owners about how their guide dogs saved their lives (one called Roselle led a man down 78 flights of the World Trade Center on 9/11), we drop in on the Guide Dogs for the Blind's campus at San Rafael in California to learn that only 300 of the 800 puppies born each year make it through training. We see a litter of five black and yellow Labradors being born and watch staff name the boys Patriot, Potomac and Phil, while the girls are called Primrose and Poppet before putting them through the first play stages of their training to assess their personality and their aptitude. 

Cutting away from the centre, we are introduced to some of the 1100 people who apply for guide dogs each year. Janet Gearhart is hoping to be paired with her fourth dog, while Ronald Strother is awaiting his first and both agree that having a companion will enable them to expand their horizons. CEO Christine Benninger explains how the puppies are doled out to `raisers' at two months and Potomac is entrusted to Linda Owen, while Primrose goes to Eric and Rebecca Mineiga, who have taken six previous pups through their basic training. First-timer Nick Ursano is assigned Patriot with his mother, Alice, while Poppet becomes Cathy and Bill Wassenberg's eighth charge, in partnership with newbies Lisa and Chris King. Finally, Phil goes to new raisers Patti and Al White, who admit to being nervous about making mistakes.

Field rep Tami Shankle says puppy raisers have a tricky task, as they help shape personality in teaching the dogs certain codes of behaviour. Patriot turns out to be a handful and teenager Nick is distressed at letting him down, while Phil is also moved on to a more experienced handler and Patti feels she has failed and that the centre hasn't given her a fair chance to do her best for her puppy. Fond of chewing, Patriot is passed to Adam Vanderhoofen and his mother, Melissa Griffith, who are hoping for third-time lucky, as their previous two pups were `career changed' (the polite term for being dropped from the programme). An Iraqi war veteran suffering from PTSD, Adam admits hoping the dog will keep him on an even keel. The genial, but easily distracted Phil goes home with Kristin and Kenny Sheppard, who have trained nine previous GDB puppies since seeing how a dog changed the life of her blind father. 

The P Litter quintuplets are now nine months old and the centre starts to assess their performances on a three-monthly basis. Potomac and Primrose both struggle to stay focussed, while Poppet and Phil are much calmer and developing a sense of responsibility when out on the street. By contrast, Patriot remains playful and doesn't always see the need to obey instructions. But, when the time comes to make definitive decisions at a year old, Potomac is retired to civilian life and misses out on a reunion with his siblings, who are all sent through to the next stage of their training. 

At 15 months, however, Adam is forced to deliver Patriot to Maureen Balogh for the next phase, as the centre believes he's taken him as far as it goes. He puts on a brave face and, as an ex-military man, he sets great store by rules. But the film might have spent more time assessing how losing a dog impacts on raisers like Linda. Patti, Nick and Adam, who feel a strong sense of failure that could impact on their futures as volunteers and on their overall well-being. Given that Maureen will only have Patriot for a month before he returns to San Rafael for final assessment, this seems a particularly harsh decision. 

However, Patriot has clearly responded to a stranger and many of his behavioural issues seem to have been resolved. Primrose remains a little too frisky to become a walker and she is selected for the breeding programme. But Poppet is chosen, along with Phil and Patriot and they embark upon a 10-week programme of intensive training, with Adam Silverman handling Poppet and Phil, while Melanie Harris takes on Patriot. We see the pair walking blindfold with a supervisor to test each animal's instincts and it's impressive to see how their appreciation of their task has increased. 

Ultimately, Phil needs a second shot at his tests before being passed to learn `intelligent disobedience' in knowing when to ignore an owners command in the face of danger. This involves railway platforms and oncoming vehicles, but, while Poppet and Phil show promise, Patriot continues to be distracted by other dogs on the street and supervisor Todd Jurek decides that he needs to be `career changed'. Melanie is sure he will make a fine working dog in another environment, as he has shown spirit and nous. But he remains a touch too intense and impulsive to progress on the programme and he is offered back to Iraqi vet Adam as a pet. He needs five seconds to decide and their reunion is the emotional high point of the picture. 

Poppet and Phil go through to final testing. But, while the latter sails through all five exercises without putting a paw wrong, the former fails both outdoor tests (walking in traffic and in sidewalkless scenarios) and has to repeat them. She makes it through, however, and is paired with Janet, while Phil goes to Ronald. Their first encounters are waggingly lickety affairs and the partnerships quickly develop under centre supervision, leading up to Graduation Day. Phil is briefly reunited with his raisers, who tell Ronald a few stories about his youth, and they all agree their private heartache at having to let him go feels worthwhile on seeing his bond with his new owner. 

As closing shots show Potomac and Patriot romping around as family pets and Primrose being maternal towards her own quintet of puppies, we see Phil and Poppet at their day jobs of transforming Ronald and Janet's daily lives. The fact that two out of the P pack achieved GDB status backs up the statistics and confirms how much work and effort goes into ensuring that only the most suitable dogs progress. 

Yet, while Nachman (who scripted) and Hardy (who photographed and edited) work wonders in capturing each stage of the puppies' development without deflecting them from their purpose, they skirt around too many pressing issues, such as the esteem of the raisers and the mindset of owners faced with having their horizons narrowed as their dogs approach retirement. It might also have been useful to learn what happens to the animals after their working lives end and discover something of the history of Guide Dogs for the Blind charity, which was founded in 1942 to assist wounded military personnel during the Second World War. 

Nevertheless, this follows its prescribed path with admirable steadiness and any complaints about its linearity seem as harsh as attempt to dub this the Canine Hoop Dreams are rather banal. But the action is somewhat perfunctory, with Hardy's editing being less adroit than his nimble camerawork and Helen Jane Long's score occasionally tugging a touch too insistently on the heartstrings. It's hard not to be moved by the various stories, however, and one can only hope that screenings have a positive outcome for the Guide Dogs for the Blind Association in this country.