After a tricky few years, the world’s pre-eminent film festival has come roaring back and is set to feature new work by Kelly Reichardt, another Joachim Trier drama starring Renate Reinsve and Cannes icons the Dardenne brothers

The Cannes film festival selection has been unveiled by its director Thierry Frémaux, with all its auteur heavyweights and cineaste silverback gorillas, including new work by Kelly Reichardt, Julia Ducournau, Ari Aster, Wes Anderson, Joachim Trier and Carla Simón. Tom Cruise’s final Mission: Impossible movie is showing out of competition; Robert De Niro is getting an honorary Palme d’Or – and probably treating audiences to a characteristically tightlipped onstage interview – and Bono arrives at the red carpet for Andrew Dominik’s documentary Bono: Stories of Surrender. Actor turned director Scarlett Johansson comes to Cannes with her Eleanor the Great, a quirky New York tale starring veteran player June Squibb.

There is also, of course, an appearance from the Belgian social-realist masters and Cannes icons the Dardenne brothers, whose appearance here with The Young Mother’s Home coincides with a mood of sadness, remembering the recent death of their totemic actor Émilie Dequenne, who starred as a teen in their film Rosetta, which won the Palme d’Or and best actress award.

Michael B Jordan plays a double role in Coogler’s intriguing period tale of anti-heroic brothers making their way into much wilder country

Ryan Coogler is the film-maker and hit-maker who started in social realism with his debut Fruitvale Station, became the Wakandan emperor of super heroism with Black Panther and put some punch back into the Rocky franchise with Creed. Now he dials up the machismo and the craziness with this gonzo horror-thriller mashup, a spectacular if more-than-faintly hubristic movie appropriately named Sinners – though there are one or two saints dotted around – set in the prewar deep south.

It’s a freaky tale of supernatural evil and the blues that indirectly takes its inspiration from the legend of Mississippi bluesman Robert Johnson selling his soul to the devil at a remote crossroads in return for fame and fortune. And it’s also, in its forthright way, a riff on the idea of blues as a kind of music that is avidly consumed by its producers’ enemies. As Delroy Lindo’s character says: “White folks like the blues just fine; just not the people who make it.”

A startling novelty 30 years ago, the film’s now antique effects and strange anti-Orwell farmyard tale feel dated, but is still a quaintly comfortable place to visit

Thirty years ago, a non-Disney talking-animal adventure became a big movie talking point. Babe, adapted from Dick King-Smith’s children’s book The Sheep-Pig, features an adorable piglet who is rescued from a brutally realistic-looking agribusiness breeding shed as his mum and siblings are taken off to be slaughtered; it is then rehomed in a quaintly old-fashioned farm with lots of different animals, situated in an uncanny-valley landscape of rolling green hills which looks like Olde England but where everyone speaks in an American accent. The lead human is grumpy cap-wearing Farmer Hoggett, played by James Cromwell, later to be hard-faced Captain Dudley Smith in LA Confidential and Prince Philip in Stephen Frears’ film The Queen. The little piglet does his best to fit in and finds his destiny when it looks as if he could be a very talented sheep-herder.

But this is not animation, nor is it precisely live-action. The movie got a (justified) best visual effects Oscar for its mix of animatronics and real animals, modifying their appearance and behaviour onscreen and using CGI for their mouths. It was a startling novelty which was very much of its time. Yet Babe and its innovations didn’t really lead to anything else; they were almost a standalone phenomenon, soon superseded in mainstream family-movie terms by the digital animation of Pixar and Disney’s continuing live-action productions.

A collection of staggering TV clips and amazing audio of Lennon and Ono’s life in 1970s NYC, this film is a mosaic of countercultural moments

Film-maker Kevin Macdonald has created a fever dream of pop culture: a TV-clip collage of John Lennon and Yoko Ono’s time in New York in the early 70s, as they led the countercultural protest. It’s a film that mixes small screen zeitgeist fragments and madeleine moments, a memory quilt of a certain time and place, juxtaposing Jerry Rubin and Allen Ginsberg with Richard Nixon and George Wallace, John and Yoko in concert with ads for Tupperware – all inspired by the fact that John and Yoko did an awful lot of TV watching in their small New York apartment of that time, with John in particular thrilled by the American novelty of 24/7 television.

It was also on TV that John and Yoko saw a documentary about the scandalous abuse of learning-disabled children at the infamous Willowbrook State School in New York and they organised the One to One concert at Madison Square Garden in 1972 to raise money for the children there. The film also gives us some amazing audio material: tape recordings of John Lennon and Yoko Ono’s phone conversations with various journalists and managers, and a hilarious running-gag account of an assistant having to get hundreds of live flies for Ono’s MoMA exhibition.

Uberto Pasolini’s raw and urgent drama, from a draft by Edward Bond, sees a traumatised Odysseus face the shameful aftermath of war

The film world is on tenterhooks for Christopher Nolan’s forthcoming Imax-epic treatment of Homer’s Odyssey, but Uberto Pasolini’s fierce, raw drama of the poem’s final sections, describing Odysseus’s traumatised return to Ithaca after the sack of Troy, may well give Nolan something to live up to. Pasolini collaborated on the script with screenwriter John Collee, evidently developed from a draft playwright Edward Bond wrote in the 90s; among other things, this film deserves attention as the final work from Bond (who died in 2024).

The Return is an elementally violent movie about PTSD, survivor guilt, abandonment, Freudian dysfunction and ruined masculinity. Juliette Binoche is the deserted queen Penelope, enigmatically reserving her opinions and dignity, refusing to believe the absent king is dead and declining to remarry as the island descends into lawlessness without a clear successor. Ralph Fiennes is Odysseus, enigmatically washed ashore semi-conscious in a way we associate in fact with late Shakespeare rather than Homer; he is reluctant to reveal himself, maybe through shame at having not returned before, at returning now in chaotic poverty and isolation and overwhelmed with his secret knowledge that the glories of war are a shameful delusion.