A film whose collapsing Britain is rendered through television sets glimpsed in cafés, refugee cages on commuter routes, and the texture of a flat that still has working radiators. The dystopia is upholstered with the unkillable habits of domestic life, the same register in which Davies stages his own apocalypse.

A summer dacha gathering becomes the stage on which Stalinist terror finally walks through the front door, dressed in old friendship. The film's insistence that political catastrophe arrives wearing a familiar smile is the same lesson the Lyons family learns about Vivienne Rook.

A serialised thriller about a graphic novel predicting humanity's near-future engineered collapse, where ordinary people become the medium through which institutional rot expresses itself. Its synthesis of paranoia, domestic tenderness, and demographic engineering rhymes with Davies's instinct that horror is something one finds at the kitchen table.

Reframes Tezuka's robot mythology as a procedural about an aging detective tracking the casualties of a war that has already poisoned the postwar order. The accumulating dread mirrors the Lyons family's slow comprehension that the structures sheltering them have been hollowed out from within.

A novel braiding Reformation-era heretics, printers, and informants across decades of failed insurrection, treating history as a long defeat measured in friendships and betrayals. Like Davies's chronicle, it argues that political eras are survived in the body, in love affairs and exhaustion, not in headlines.

A mosaic novel that interleaves news fragments, advertising, and personal lives to render an overpopulated near-future as a constant ambient roar. Its formal restlessness anticipates the way Davies cuts between montage news bulletins and family scenes to convey a civilisation losing coherence in real time.

A memoir of the Ethiopian Red Terror that traces how a generation's political hopes are dismantled cell by cell, friend by friend, across decades of authoritarian aftermath. Its insistence on private grief as the true ledger of historical violence parallels the way Davies measures Britain's drift through one family's losses.

A collective autobiography that records postwar Europe through advertisements, family photographs, and shifting pronouns, dissolving the self into the texture of a generation. Its method — measuring history through the residue it leaves on ordinary lives — is precisely the dramaturgical engine of Davies's serial.

A border-haunted song cycle in which migration, displacement, and grandmotherly memory share the same melodic palette as celebration. The album's refusal to separate political emergency from kitchen-radio intimacy parallels Davies's tonal collapsing of news and lullaby.

A wandering naturalist documents the small ecological derangements that visit village after village, where transformation is rarely violent and never reversible. Its patient attention to mutation as something one survives, not defeats, mirrors Davies's portrait of citizens learning to live inside changes they cannot vote away.