It begins in a deceptively calm, measured way (after a remarkably bold opening shot) before descending down an increasingly hysterical rabbit hole of abstraction.

In the opening movement, we are introduced to Chloe (Marine Vacht, who starred in Ozon’s Young and Beautiful), a former model who is suffering from stomach pains which, she finds out, may well be psychosomatic. So she books herself in to see a psychiatrist, Paul (Ozon regular Jérémie Renier), with whom she develops a bond that quickly exceeds the boundaries of doctor-patient. Although the build up is measured, Ozon orchestrates these early scenes with prolific use of mirrors and camera angles designed to suggest that the characters may not be quite what they first appear. It’s not subtle, but conveys the required mood, and there is actually a tenderness, even an eroticism, in these early scenes that the latter movements of the film, though they are more graphic, can’t always recapture.

Chloe and Paul move in together, but things take an usual turn when Chloe stumbles upon Paul’s identical twin brother Louis, whose existence she wasn’t aware of, and who Paul rejects completely. Louis also happens to be a psychiatrist – just one with rather more forthright methods than those of his sibling – and Chloe finds herself analysed, indeed seduced, by both brothers. Cue a descent into an increasingly unhinged blend of fantasy and reality, the lines between which are often blurred.

Ozon is clearly having a lot of fun here, and L’Amant Double is not intended to be taken completely seriously; on that level, there is plenty to enjoy in its cine-literate depiction of a mind on the edge. The film’s pleasures are mostly one dimensional, and you could argue its depiction of a damaged, beautiful woman who becomes the simultaneous lover of two men is, at least on the surface, a little adolescent, but I felt the film was always on Chloe’s side, even if its examination of her issues and desires rarely threatened much insight.

If our emotional attachment to the characters wanes as the film progresses, Ozon ensures our attention is rarely less than grabbed, moving from moments of tensio n and abstraction to are-they-aren’t-they fantasy sequences; the camera even takes a trip inside Chloe’s body at a moment of climax. It may not be deep, but you won’t be bored.

After 10 years and 18 films, we finally arrive at Avengers: Infinity War, the first in a two-part showdown between Marvel’s extraordinary roster of heroes and Thanos, an intergalactic genocidal tyrant played in CGI motion capture by Josh Brolin, whose starring appearance has been seeded throughout the preceding films.

To say there is a lot riding on Infinity War is perhaps to overstate things, because in terms of box office, at least, this is already a home run for Marvel; but for fans of the series, who have a lot invested in the characters and have seen all the films, it really matters how this plays out. How pleasing to report, then, that while far from perfect, directors Joe and Anthony Russo have put together a blockbuster on an impressive scale that fulfils a lot of what fans will be looking for.

The Russo brothers most recently directed Captain America: Civil War, which means they already have experience doing what all directors of the bigger Marvel films must do: juggling and balancing. There are so many characters in these films, it’s difficult to make them all feel important, and we’re at the stage now where even major characters are effectively sidelined into cameos and supporting roles, although that is not fundamentally a problem if the script is strong, as it generally is here. Juggling characters is one thing, but the Russos also have to contend with a storyline that, while not complex per se, is very multifaceted. Thanos is looking to gather together the six infinity stones – which have been in existence since the Big Bang and represent things like ‘power’, ‘reality’ and ‘time’ – meaning there is a fair amount of ground to be covered. Devotees of the series will be familiar with the location of all but one of these stones.

Of all the films Marvel has put out, this one above all, perhaps understandably, is the least accessible to newcomers. That’s not a criticism – just a fact. It’s always been the case with these films that familiarity with the canon enhances the experience, and it’s something to be aware of before seeing Infinity War. There will be fun in there for all, but this is very much a sequel.

Marvel has taken risks with its formula for this film, in ways that are very satisfying. As a result, Infinity War, although it still very much adheres to the Marvel tone in terms of its quips and humour, feels darker than you might expect. This is primarily a positive thing, although it does mean that the tone quite regularly flips between serious and flippant, which it mostly carries off well, but some of the transitions from dark to light and back again feel a tad creaky. If this is the price to pay for some more darkness in this universe, then it’s no bad thing, even if some of that darkness may well turn out to be not quite as dark as it seems.

To make Infinity War work, Marvel had to make Thanos work. A conflict of this proportion needs a worthy villain, and thankfully Thanos is that villain. Given that fan reactions (and those of this critic) to some of Thanos’ (very brief) appearances in the previous films weren’t always positive, that’s an achievement worthy of merit. Josh Brolin gives a convincing performance, and crucially the CGI figure feels powerful and dramatically interesting (even if one of the infinity stones is dangerously close to being a massive plot hole). Thanos’ minions can’t receive the same level of attention, and as such feel a little like a wasted opportunity, but they are well realised visually at least, and provide some fun action sequences.

As somebody who has seen all of the preceding Marvel films, I expected to have my emotions tugged by Infinity War, but in that respect I found the film to be oddly inconsistent, perhaps as a result of the sheer amount of plot and characters. There are tender moments in here, and events that will draw gasps, but given how much darkness there is in the film, I felt I would be moved more than I was. The problem is that the film, even at two and a half hours long, doesn’t have much time to dwell on the consequences of what’s going on, or for relationships to be fleshed out beyond brief interactions.

But, given how much stuff there is in Infinity War, it’s a triumph of sorts that it works as well as it does, and I feel it will benefit from a second viewing. Marvel has taken time to get the villain right – something it hasn’t always done in the past – and that really pays off. Meanwhile, the charismatic cast, even if th ey don’t all get to make much of an impression this time around, are again on good form. This is a big film with big implications for the series, and for that it should be praised.

Nyman and Dyson’s Ghost Stories has been running as a theatre production for over 10 years, and part of the original idea for the play was to transpose some of the techniques of horror cinema onto the stage, thus reinvigorating them. The play has been well received and widely seen, and so it is interesting that the directors took on the challenge of moving those horror tropes back into their original setting, as it were; i.e. the big screen.

As somebody who has not seen the stage play, but has watched a fair amount of horror cinema, it’s pleasing to say that while some of the elements of Ghost Stories do feel traditional, particularly with regard to the way it produces its scares, that is not inherently a bad thing, and Nyman and Dyson have enough wit and obvious love for the horror genre to make Ghost Stories not only function as a film, but succeed as one.

Nyman stars as Phillip Goodman, who specialises in debunking tales of the supernatural, but whose hardened exterior begins to crack when he’s invited to investigate three separate cases of what appear to be supernatural goings on.

The film cleverly plays with Phillip’s, and our, perception of what is going on. It’s clear from pretty early on that while Phillip claims to be steadfast in his disbelief, there’s more than a little doubt lurking in his subconscious. Although the story is episodic in one sense – we see the three stories one after the other – the audience naturally begins to look for parallels or connections between them, and there is fun to be had in doing so.

That sense of fun is helped by the performances, and by the film’s adept juggling of the registers of horror and comedy. Film critics often say that horror and comedy are difficult things to get well in the same picture, and it’s true, although the two are closely linked, and in the right circumstances can complement each other greatly. Ghost Stories is not afraid to inject laughs into even scenes of high tension, and it is testament to the quality of the writing, direction and performances that the film manages to create tension, even when it’s intentionally diffusing it with laughs.

Of the three stories Goodman investigates, the first, which stars a very good Paul Whitehouse as a night watchman, is the strongest. It’s also given by far the most screen time, which feels natural as the introduction segues into the stories, but does mean that stories two and three feel a little less developed, although that’s not to say they aren’t successful in their own right. The middle story has a brilliant introduction but the tension created therein is slightly dampened by the fact that it becomes the most overtly comic part of the film, which for me was a little disappointing, but in general these are compelling mini-arcs that successfully complement the wide whole.

It’s worth mentioning that while the middle section of the film is a tad uneven, it all comes together thrillingly in the final movement, which closes things off with a bang and, as with so many good horror films, makes you rethink what you’ve seen, and want to watch again.

Some of what Ghost Stories does may well hark back to the pantheon of horror cinema, but so does most horror. What Nyman a nd Dyson have done is mould their inspirations into a successful, affecting horror picture that is capable of drawing both laughs and shocks, which is an achievement to be commended.