A new season at the BFI celebrates Contemporary Films and its founder Charles Cooper, who bet on Britain taking to Ingmar Bergman, Yasujiro Ozu, Stayajjit Ray – and a young Mike Leigh

Occasionally, vital pieces of the cultural jigsaw disappear without anyone really noticing. This, sadly, was the fate of Contemporary Films, the British film distributor that popularised sophisticated, grownup international cinema – foreign language mostly – in the UK, and heralded the arrival of the auteur generation with directors such as Ingmar Bergman, Satyajit Ray, Andrzej Wajda and Yasujiro Ozu.

Contemporary, and its founder Charles Cooper, weren’t the only game in town – Kenneth Rive’s Gala was a fellow traveller – but Contemporary got there first, setting up shop in 1951, first with short films for the then popular film society sector, and moving into features with the 1952 Japanese film Children of Hiroshima. Its marketplace clout faded rapidly in the early 1990s, when it was a victim of changing industry practices. But amazingly, the company is still with us – and is planning a 75th anniversary series of screenings to showcase its history.

It was a bumper season for Hollywood, almost back to pre-pandemic levels, with Tom Holland blockbusters winning out, but there was still a string of disappointments

As the world continued to burn and temperatures reached worrying highs, most of us decided to take refuge in the cinema this summer. It provided some relief for audiences, but even more so for the industry at large, with the season pushing past the magic $4bn mark to become the biggest since 2019, up 20% from last year. There were the expected hits (Spider-Man never misses), but there were also unprecedented breakouts (we were obsessed with Obsession) and surprise underperformers (are kids Minions-ed out?)

So at the end of a season with epic highs and cavernous lows, what lessons can Hollywood learn?

Its moguls are ripe subjects for drama, and there is huge anticipation for forthcoming features The Social Reckoning and Artificial. But other projects have failed as the film industry is increasingly colonised by IT empires

• Tom Cruise, Olivia Colman and the return of Rocky: the best films of autumn 2026
• See all of our unmissable autumn arts recommendations here

‘I know there are easier enemies to make,” tech reporter Jeremy Allen White tells his colleague in a recent trailer for The Social Reckoning. “The mafia would be an easier enemy to make,” comes the reply. They’re talking about Mark Zuckerberg’s Meta, but they might as well be discussing big tech as a whole. As The Social Reckoning promises to underline, it’s become clear that these people are not on our side – “us” being the whole of humanity except billionaire tech overlords and their mates. But for an industry that loves a clear-cut baddie, Hollywood has barely landed a blow on the tech industry. Now it finds itself in mortal danger of being absorbed by it. Is it too late to fight back?

The Social Reckoning’s predecessor, The Social Network, showed how this kind of thing is done. It was pacy, buzzy and full of weirder-than-life characters – not least the young Zuckerberg, portrayed by Jesse Eisenberg as an obnoxiously smart mogul-in-the-making, whose mission to connect the world stood in stark contrast to his own social deficiencies. Directed by David Fincher and co-written by Aaron Sorkin, it was also a commercial and critical hit, winning three Oscars. But a big part of what made The Social Network work, and makes its sequel such a threat, is that it was about the actual, real-world Silicon Valley, which is where a lot of recent entertainment has gone wrong.