Charlie Kaufman has never been the conventional type. However underneath all the strange story devices and bizarre layers there’s always a constant theme running throughout his work. It’s one of relationships, the things we do to each other and the things we do to ourselves in the process. Just look at his back catalogue. A stale marriage leads John Cusack to become addicted to John Malkovich, a bitter break up causes Kate Winslet to forever delete Jim Carrey from her memory and an inability to be at peace causes Nicolas Cage to literally be at war with himself. Kaufman’s unusual new one Anomalisa is no different in this regard. Beneath its uncanny and unusual method of presentation, his story is still very much about the pleasures and deep pains of human interaction.

We meet Michael Stone (David Thewlis), author of the dry-titled yet popular business book ‘How May I Help You Help Them?’, while he’s on his way to Cincinnati to speak at a convention. Straight off the bat we know something’s not right. Despite being the man of the moment he’s clearly not happy. A begrudged phone call home reveals that Michael is married with a child, yet talking to them feels like a chore. We learn that Cincinnati is the home-town of the ex that he abruptly jilted and through Michael’s constant sighing, eye-rubs and daydreams it becomes obvious there’s a hole in his life that he’s unable to fill. In the words of Alan Partridge, Michael Stone is “clinically fed up”.

Kaufman makes no bones in showing this to us in the most literal way possible: everyone looks and sounds exactly the same. Michael is trapped in a monotonous world populated by bland bodies however all this changes when he hears a new voice. Lisa (Jennifer Jason Leigh) is a bit of a Michael Stone fangirl but self conscious of the scar on her face - ironically one that directors Kaufman and Duke Johnston keep hidden from us, highlighting Michael’s intense fascination with this new face. Could Lisa be the anomaly that fixes Michael’s emptiness? As their relationship develops we soon find out.

Kaufman and Duke’s painstaking method of telling their story is undeniably impressive. The duo use ultra-real 3D printed models to enact what is essentially a small scale drama that unwinds at its own pace. Scenes are long and meandering, flecked with a sly humour and emotional weight but definitely beating to their own drum. Thewlis, with his deeply Northern, slow and steady dialect hits his aspect of the story home effortlessly - an unusual casting choice but one that certainly serves a purpose. The animation is brilliant too with some movements and facial expressions so accurate, you’ll forget you’re actually watching a collection of plastic dolls and not real people. The 3D printed aspect adds a gentle, layered texture to each flesh-toned face, making everyone eerily life-like. We’ll no doubt be seeing this tech used more on screen in the future.

Overall, Anomalisa is like most of Kaufman’s movies - compelling but maybe not for everyone. The lasting impression is a bit like the film’s tortured lead Michael Stone - deep, introspective and full of difficult thoughts.

I don't think I have a good eye for photography and if I do, it's totally something that only exists in my subconscious. Like trying to look at a shape in a cloud if I focus on it too sharply, it disappears entirely.

I've been trying to take more pictures lately, just of stuff that catches my eye. I didn't set out with any clear agenda or specific photographic brief in mind. I just tried to keep my eyes peeled while I was walking about and snapped whatever made me double-take.

Weirdly - and relatively quickly, actually - a theme started to emerge. For some reason I seem to be absentmindedly drawn to space. Empty space. The space between buildings. Trapped space. I'm not sure why but every scene that stands out to me and asks to be photographed has some kind of spacial aspect to it. Space and architecture. My eyes seem to notice narrow gaps between the ornate, weather-worn structures of Manchester city centre more than anything else that goes on in this litter strewn city.

It's strange really. Especially seen as I have no real interest in either of these themes. I can't honestly say I know the first thing about architecture or what makes hidden urban spaces so appealing. Maybe my subconscious brain is trying to tell me I need a little space or maybe I've been trying to deliberately get lost and blend into the gaps. Hide in the cracks. I'm not quite sure.

Either way, here's a sample of some of the images I've taken whilst traipsing across the concrete. Click on them for a better look. I'll add more as and when I take them because I know you're dying to see them.

Director Lenny Abrahamson is rising fast, following up last year’s quirky sort-of Frank Sidebottom biopic Frank with a challenging drama that manages to be big and small all at once. Room invites the Irish filmmaker to adapt Emma Donoghue’s claustrophobic novel of the same name - which if you’re familiar with the story, is no small feat, despite its relatively straight-forward plot. Casting is key and thankfully Abrahamson’s dual leads provide a humanity that make Room utterly watchable, regardless of its harrowing undertones.

The story is told through the eyes of Jack (Jacob Tremblay), a child who has spent the entirety of his scant five year life span living in the confines of a room no bigger than a garden shed. Jack lives with his mother (Brie Larson) who was abducted years before by a mysterious stranger known only as Old Nick (Sean Bridgers), caged in security-locked room and repeatedly abused. Despite this rather dark conceit, when we meet Jack and his Mum things are relatively domesticated. Well, as domesticated as day-to-day life can get when trapped in a garden shed.

Old Nick regularly arrives with supplies (and abuse) and they have access to all the basic amenities which Jack takes pleasure in greeting each day as he wakes. “Hello sink. Hello plant. Hello TV...” - Jack’s view on his limited existence is muddled and plagued with youthful innocence. People on television live on different worlds. Outside of ‘Room’ is nothing but outer space. Jack’s Mum tries her best to explain this most difficult of situations to her child, humouring him in his youth but fully aware that soon he must learn the truth. In between daily education and exercise (Jack sprints from wall to wall, all four feet of it), the thought of escape is constant and when an opportunity presents itself, Jack and his Mum must work together to regain their freedom.

Brie Larson undoubtedly has a difficult role on her hands in Room and turns in a starkly down-to-Earth performance of what life in captivity would actually be like after seven long years. However, thinking about the job Tremblay has on his hands is truly staggering. Inviting an actor of any background to inhibit the role of someone with absolutely no reference points to the modern world is a tall order. To ask that of a five year old? Near impossible. Yet, Tremblay pulls it off with aplomb. At times he’s a spoilt brat, complacent with his shoe-box world. Other times he’s a bemused blank slate with a truly unique view on everything he sees. You can guarantee that you’ll see more of him in the future and if he can weather that tricky child actor roller coaster, his future is surely bright.

Abrahamson tells his story in two parts, spending little time on the wider consequences and instead focusing on the real-life impact this would have on its lead characters and their family. The result is something hugely compelling. Maybe it’s because, rather terrifyingly, instances like this do happen in real life, yet beyond the salacious headlines we rarely see the long-term consequences. In a roundabout way, Room is a look at relationships in the midst of chaos and there’s something appealing about that that effortlessly overshadows its shocking storyline.

It was touched upon in the last instalment of this series, so let’s just get it out of the way straight off the bat. This week’s trailer trash is focusing on the biggest film of the 2015 and let’s face it, the decade, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens.

JJ Abrams undoubtedly had a job on his hands when he signed up to helm this most hotly anticipated of sequels. As such, fans were avidly chomping at the bit for any slivers of information or shots of their childhood faves back on screen, albeit a little greyer and probably with dodgier knees.

To say expectations were high was an understatement and when that first teaser finally hit, man-children worldwide collectively let out a little bit of wee in excited unison. It was great and assured us that the franchise was in good hands but like the greedy film fans we are, we wanted more. We’ll skip that first teaser and concentrate directly on the meatier full official trailer. Go one, give it a watch below. It probably needs the views...

Where to start? There are countless moments (and even blink-and-you’ll it clips) in this trailer that still manage to send chills months after the film’s release. The familiar imagery, the nostalgia, the panoramic vistas of Jakku, that pensive pace - they all scream love and attention to detail. This first in-depth look at the world JJ inherited from Lucas does a lot with a little, teasing an epic story and dropping potential plot beats all without actually giving away at all. It’s a lesson on trailer editing and film marketing, and something that’s almost as re-watchable as the film itself. No small feat.

However despite all the Falcon swoops, explosive battle shots and Han Solo dialogue, the highlight of this trailer has to be John Williams’ stripped down score. The sly inclusion of Empire Strikes Back track ‘Han Solo and the Princess’ hits all the right beats and sends viewers right back to that familiar world in just a few simple key changes. It’s enough to bring a tear to the eye. Too much? Either way, it’s great stuff and only adds to the trailer’s watchability.

What do you think? It was by no means a given that this glorious trailer would result in a bulletproof movie (and while brilliant, Episode VII is by no means fault-free), however on this occasion the Star Destroyers aligned and JJ Abrams’ delivered on his promise by serving up a worthy new instalment of Lucas’s Star Wars franchise. The finished film reflects the same beats hinted at in the trailer and then some, elaborating on themes, exploring that same attention to detail and delivering nerdgasms left, right and centre. Love it or hate it, Disney have set a high bar for director Rian Johnson to clear when promoting his follow up piece, Episode VIII. One thing’s for sure though, the franchise is in good hands.

Let’s be honest, sometimes the trailers can be the best part of the movie.

Of course, that’s not always the case. Fans lost their Sith every time JJ teased Star Wars: The Force Awaken only for them to go full-on Nerfherder bezerk when the full film finally dropped. However, sometimes marketing teams can do such a good job that the finished movie never quite manages to live up to that two and a half minutes of greatness.

In this regular series I’ll aim to highlight my favourite movie trailers, from both the past few years and moving forward, and try to figure out what makes them so great. It could be a certain musical crescendo, the right cut at the right time or just a little artistic flourish - it’s time to celebrate the art of the movie trailer.

Paranorman. This Laika produced stop-motion animation centres on a young boy who can see the ghosts that populate his small rural town. The film’s debut trailer was released back in 2011 and set things up for must-see experience hot off the heels of the Studios’ previous effort, the awesome and atmospheric, Coraline. Check it out below...

On this occasion it’s undoubtedly the music. The lack of dialogue and emphasis on Donovan’s eerie Season of the Witch lends the trailer tonnes of cool. What’s more, a perfectly synchronised edit and bags of retro monster movie imagery give the piece an addictive and alluring pace. Above all else though, the trailer just looks stylish and does a brilliant job of selling a movie that’s dark, different and visually impressive.

It would’ve been great if it did, however the finished film somehow lacked the same pace and potency of its debut trailer. Luckily for viewers, a more down-to-Earth second trailer set things up for a more traditional adventure and helped lower expectations a tad. That’s not to say Paranorman is a bad movie - its attention to detail and sinister cinematography definitely make it worth tracking down.

Is it as good as Laika’s adaptation of Neil Gaiman’s ‘Coraline’? Not quite but it’s a worthy follow up with more talent in a two second frame than most movies have in their own run time. Here’s hoping the studio’s upcoming feature ‘Kubo and The Two Strings’ manages to recaptures and maintain the magic of this trailer.