Enemy

If you can find one of the 0.004 cinemas in the country currently screening Denis Villeneuve's Enemy, starring Jake Gyllenhaal in a dual role as, uh, two Jake Gyllenhaals, then I highly recommend that you do so. Now that we're in 2015, however, which is officially The Future as ordained by Sir Bobert of Zemeckis, you can already watch it at home, with your central heating cranked up to max and your cat licking off the tuna paste you smeared on your genitals. That's the beauty of Video On Demand!

Drenched in a yellowy-brown fug like all Polaroids taken in the 1970s, Enemy is a creepily paranoid nugget of weirdery reminiscent of low-budget, high-concept debuts like Shane Carruth's Primer. Way more satisfying (despite being almost inexplicable) than 2013's Prisoners, in which Villeneuve also directed Gyllenhaal, this film is more subtle and sinister, and benefits from J-Gyzzle sporting better hair. And a lovely beard. Two, in fact.

It's entirely pointless telling you anything about the plot, but if you like films about doppelgängers and were unexpectedly frozen out by the coldness of Richard Ayoade's The Double last year, then Enemy is for you. It builds its unease meticulously, with Gyllenhaal delivering two performances not so polar opposite that he's crying out for awards, but just different enough to sell the plot and a possible explanation, whatever that may be. I genuinely have no idea. But it doesn't really matter; Javier Gullón's script and, notably, an eerie score by Daniel Bensi and Saunder Jurriaans make this all about the experience rather than the payoff.

That said, don't be surprised if you shit yourself at the very end.