Naomi Watts’ portrayal of the People’s Princess has drawn widespread ridicule from the British press, because it’s awful. So where are we to go to for our easily-digestible snapshots of Diana’s life? Netflix, obviously. Here are our top 5 reasons to spurn Diana and head instead for Diana: Her True Story.

STOP PRESS: Lindsay Lohan turns out to be a massive meth-addled flake

In our newest blog series, Best For FIlm’s bravest and least discerning writers plumb the depths of Netflix’s films on demand to find the flicks you definitely never thought you’d read a massive freeform blog about. This week, a film so bad that the critic we sent to see it back in 2011 literally never wrote for us again. It’s real film with real heart. It’s Love’s Kitchen.

Look, I know this is contentious. Bear with me here. I mean, yes, true, there you go with your Schindler’s List and your Shawshank. I see you there, holding up your Psycho and your It’s A Wonderful Life. I see you. I see you, brandishing shiny shiny Oscars like a kid on Sports Day. I see you, and I say unto you: you’re wrong. Chicken Run is the best film ever; here’s why.

Eagle-eyed readers of Best For Film may recall that earlier in the week I broke down my ten best reasons for loving Gone with the Wind. Like men and Scarlett O’Hara, however, GWTW and I have a tempestuous relationship: i.e. I love her, but she is a proper bitch. She makes me feel things I don’t want to feel! She’s super racist! She’s incredibly manipulative! She’s horrible to women! She’s really generally unpleasant! Anyway, because of this, it seemed sort of a lie to give you my ten reasons to love it, without my ten reasons to hate it. HERE WE GO.

This November, the impossibly iconic 1939 film Gone with the Wind – digitally restored by Warner Bros – will once again appear in cinemas to mark the centenary of Vivien Leigh’s birth. Best For Film’s tribute is a little less flashy but equally heartfelt; in this blog, Ella Risbridger counts down her top ten reasons why (despite it being utterly morally repugnant) she loves Gone with the Wind.

Today’s Top Ten is brought to you by the jerry-built Best For Film bookcase, which this morning decided to collapse. At the top of the pile of undignifiedly dislodged books was a hefty volume of Roald Dahl short stories, and flicking through the pages we dusted off our Matilda bunches and decided that it was a sign. Forget Willy Wonka – although The Great Glass Elevator wasn’t all fun and games, frankly – and dive, Augustus Gloop-like, into the murky depths of Dahl’s imagination…

Oh, this is just too good.

Haven’t we learnt our lesson about Terry Gilliam and circuses?

Let The Right One In director Tomas Alfredson has taken the helm of the new adaptation of The Brothers Lionheart – frankly, we’re just staggered by the fact that not one but two separate studios have wanted to introduce new generations of kids to Astrid Lindgren’s deeply odd classic. The Wikipedia entry for the first film notes, gravely, that it is “softened a bit [from the book] and does not explicitly show the brothers committing suicide”, which probably tells you all you need to know. In dubious celebration of Alfredson’s odd career choices, we’ve collected ten other children’s books that should never have been committed to celluloid.