Benedict Andrews directed what is arguably the most perfect of all comedies. It was written for a wedding – and finales don’t come any more blissfully harmonious – but the wild pre-nuptials are the fun part: clothes and social skins are shed, nice people turn nasty and imaginations run riot. There’s gorgeous poetry and visceral physicality, eroticism both elegant and bestial, but through all the frenzy runs a glorious meditation on that most powerful of magics – the unseen force that turns worlds upside down – love.