Elizabeth Sankey’s engaging documentary reclaims the genre from snooty cinephiles – and proudly pronounces When Harry Met Sally a masterpiece

With affection and brio, Elizabeth Sankey reclaims the genre of romantic comedy in this watchable documentary; that is, she reclaims it from the gendered snobbery of white, male, middle-aged reviewers who fall over themselves to praise horror movies or thrillers or superhero films but turn their noses up at romcom. (If La La Land had been marketed as a romcom, wonders Sankey, would it have got the same Oscars and saucer-eyed critical praise?)

Now, I’m putting my hands up here, although I still can’t handle Nancy Meyers’ The Holiday (2006), and I still worry that romcom tends to be all rom and no com, a conservative genre that often dislikes the subversion of comedy. I absolutely agreed with Sankey’s masterpiece rating for When Harry Met Sally … (1989) – what person of taste and judgment wouldn’t? – and I enjoyed her praise for While You Were Sleeping (1995), which she discreetly juxtaposes with the comparably themed The Big Sick (2017). But could it be that there is a kind of dual response going on here – straightforward reverence for a small number of romcom greats and a kind of guilty-pleasure celebration for the stratum of standard-issue romcom product below that, which maybe isn’t all that great but nonetheless foregrounds women’s experiences in the way no other genre does?

For his latest drama, Corneliu Porumboiu revived a language unique to the valleys of La Gomera in the Canary Islands; a steep learning curve for his actors – and our writer

Try to imagine the least film-noir scene possible and you might come up with a group of five-year-olds learning to whistle. It is late morning, pre-lockdown, in a classroom at Nereida Díaz Abreu school on La Gomera in the Canary Islands, and the teacher – a bent knuckle crammed in his mouth – is relaying instructions in a piercing, swooping, set of whistles. The kids look quizzically skywards, then collapse in hysterics, although most eventually nail it.

“Touch your left ear with your right hand,” the teacher reiterates in Spanish.

Related: The Whistlers (La Gomera) review – thrilling Romanian corrupt-cop noir

We say to the kids: when you go to Tenerife and say you’re from La Gomera, people will ask you if you can whistle

Vinnie and the gang decide to rob a circus, as Joseph Gilgun’s hit comedy – part-Shameless, part-Ocean’s Eleven – returns for a second run

At first glance, Brassic (Sky One) looks as if it might have been the first quarantine comedy. The second series begins with Vinnie (Joseph Gilgun) skulking around the fictional Lancashire town of Hawley in full DIY hazmat get-up, with his hood up over a hat, a scarf pulled over his face, and sunglasses, despite the weather being a near-permanent state of grey drizzle. It even goes a bit Tiger King, when a robbery takes an unexpected feline turn.

But Brassic is only accidentally of the moment: there’s far too much non-social-distancing going on, for a start. It was filmed last year, while the first series was airing, and it became Sky’s biggest original comedy in years. That’s no surprise. It had an easy appeal and a raucous sense of humour, with real heart behind the madcap antics.

(New Deal)
With his fourth solo album the acclaimed producer faces down the confusion of modern life with intoxicating calm

Blake Mills has picked up Grammy nominations for his production work on Laura Marling’s Semper Femina, John Legend’s Darkness and Light and Perfume Genius’s No Shape. However, the fourth solo album by the 33-year old Californian former touring guitarist should turn the spotlight towards his own work. Mutable Set is intended as a “soundtrack to the emotional dissonance of modern life”. Themes range from precious people and experiences to disappointment and isolation, though this isn’t conventional singer-songwriter fare.