THE  jarring shift from August to September - from Summer to Autumn and sunny to blustery days - finds razor sharp relief in James Watkins’ Speak No Evil, a psychological thriller pitch perfect for Friday 13th viewing.

Adapted from Christian Tafdrup’s 2022 Danish language hit of the same name, the film boasts satire, shocks, and a superior turn from James McAvoy.

Commissioned hot on the heels of the original, and shot between Croatia and Gloucester either side of the 2023 SAG-AFTRA strike, Speak No Evil exceeds the average remake by forging a genuinely alternative route through the borrowed plotting. That’s not to say Watkins’ film betters Tafdrup’s but rather that it exists succinctly in its own right.

For one thing, Watkins proves a less misanthropic director than was Tafdrup, his humour building on the cringe of shared experience and his concept of villainy being slightly more binary. Watkins opens funnier and closes softer.

It is while basking in a sun drenched Italy that American holidaymakers Louise (Mackenzie Davis) and Ben Dalton (Scoot McNairy) first meet McAvoy’s Paddy. He too is enjoying a break with his wife, Ciara (Aisling Franciosi) and their young son, Ant (Dan Hough), who quickly hits it off with the Dalton’s own youngster, Agnes (Alix West Lefler).

Indeed, so well do the two families connect that it’s not long before Paddy and Ciara are inviting Louise and Ben to visit their charming country home in Britain. They’ll regret that.

As the pace quickens, the thrills increase, buoyed by squirming discomfort. To say too much would spoil the fun but it is enough to note that McAvoy nails it.

Also this week, Ian McKellen leads The Critic, a very different kind of thriller, from Leap Year’s Anand Tucker. Gemma Arterton co-stars as Nina Land, an insecure actress in 1930s London at the mercy of McKellen’s pen.

For his part, the beloved thesp plays scabrous theatre critic Jimmy Erskine, a gay man hiding in plain sight from a law that could see him hung.

What begins as a witty and wholly watchable drams loses focus as the attention of its narrative shifts. Certainly, a lesser presence for McKellen in the second half exposes The Critic’s own fallibility. Anand’s film works splendidly as a fitfully fruity dark comedy but stumbles when asked to thrill.