Movies fall into two categories. There are arthouse movies, films full of hidden delights and subtlety that appeal to the initiated only. And there are blockbusters, no-nonsense cinematic experiences designed to wow the audience with a straightforward storyline and special effects.

During his first three years as governor of the Bank of England, Mark Carney has been like the director of a film in which there is plenty of talk but not much else. This week he needs to channel his inner George Lucas. The City does not want Céline and Julie Go Boating; it wants Star Wars.

Carney’s latest production will be unveiled to the public on Thursday, six weeks to the day since the UK voted to leave the European Union. All the signs are that Brexit has led to a complete rewrite of the Bank of England’s script. Had the referendum gone the other way, the Old Lady would have been preparing the ground for interest rate increases over the next few months. Now its job is to shore up growth and confidence in an all-action performance. Anticipation ahead of a meeting of the monetary policy committee (MPC) has rarely been higher. Threadneedle Street cannot afford to do what the Bank of Japan did on Friday and leave the markets underwhelmed.

A cut in the official cost of borrowing is a nailed-on certainty. For many years it had been assumed that Bank rate could go no lower than 0.5%, where it has been pegged since the economy was deep in recession in early 2009. Brexit has put paid to that notion. Expect rates to be cut to 0.25%.

That, though, is unlikely to be the end of things. The Bank has made it clear that it is considering a “package” of measures, and Andy Haldane, its chief economist, has talked of the need for a “sledgehammer”. A 0.25-point cut in interest rates will not live up to the advance billing.

The Bank has a range of other options. It could cut rates even further, to 0.1%. It could use forward guidance to send out a message that interest rates will remain at ultra-low levels for a considerable period to come. It could restart quantitative easing (QE), adding to the £375bn of government bonds it bought between 2009 and 2012. It could widen the QE programme to include corporate bonds. It could expand its Funding for Lending programme, which led to a marked pick-up in activity when first introduced in the summer of 2012. Or it could come up with some new initiative that nobody is expecting: a twist in the tale that takes the audience by surprise.

The Bank has shown in the past that it can make a bold statement. When the economy was collapsing in late 2008, the MPC didn’t tinker around with half-point rate cuts: it slashed them from 4.5% to 3% and continued hacking away until borrowing costs stood at a historic low of 0.5%.

Business surveys released since Brexit have nearly all been pretty downbeat but most were conducted in the confused days immediately after the referendum when companies were dumbstruck by the result. There is a possibility that sentiment will have improved as a result of the calmer conditions in the financial markets and the early arrival in Downing Street of Theresa May.

But why take the risk? In the current circumstances, the Bank’s job is to demonstrate that it won’t allow the economy to slide into recession through official neglect. A show of shock and awe can buy some time while the government fleshes out its post-Brexit plan.

If there is an argument for holding back, it is that more stimulus will be required in the months to come. Thursday will not be the end of the story. As with all the best blockbusters, there will be a sequel.

By any measure, going ahead with Hinkley would be madness

As the UK government readies itself to “consider carefully all the component parts” of the £18bn Hinkley Point project, it should start with first principles. The nuclear power station, as currently financed, is a threat to the UK’s national energy security. It would be absurdly expensive for UK consumers. And the technology hasn’t been shown to work.

Any of those reasons ought to be enough to condemn Hinkley to the bin, to be remembered only as a prize example of successive governments’ craven indulgence of the nuclear lobby. Taken together, they make the case overwhelming: Hinkley is not the answer to the UK’s looming energy crisis.

On the national security point, Theresa May should start by reading an excellent analysis by Nick Timothy, her joint chief of staff, published last October. The government is “selling our national security to China”, argued Timothy, noting the alarm of the security services that a Chinese state-backed firm could take a one-third stake in Hinkley as a precursor to building its own nuclear reactor in Bradwell in Essex.

Others make the financial point that the former chancellor George Osborne’s grovel for Chinese cash wasn’t merely embarrassing but also baffling. The UK government can currently borrow at 0.7% for 10 years. Why not take advantage of that, rather than play off-balance-sheet games to the benefit of Beijing?

The costs of Hinkley are now well known. The UK insulated itself from cost overruns in the construction phase by granting EDF a licence to print money for 35 years. The price of oil, taken as proxy for the cost of wholesale energy, would have to average $150 a barrel, compared with $42 currently, for three decades for Hinkley to represent good value. Yes, nuclear-generated electricity is reliable. But if that is what we want, build smaller and cheaper modular reactors.

In any case, “reliable” is not a good description of EDF. Its attempts in Finland and Normandy to build Hinkley-style European pressurised reactors (EPRs) are years behind schedule. If you want reliable energy, do not order an EPR from EDF.

May, untainted by Osborne’s obsession with Hinkley, has a chance to free the UK from the madness. She must take it.

One signature from Sir Philip is all that is required

Last week hundreds of BHS staff picked up their final paycheques and there were multiple pictures of battered department stores closing their doors for the last time. They were the starkest possible contrast to the long-lens shots of Sir Philip Green lounging around the Aegean on his new £100m yacht, Lionheart.

Green wasn’t in total relaxation mode. He was busy firing off legal letters to Dominic Chappell, the man who shepherded BHS into administration just a year after buying it from Green for £1, and to Frank Field, the MP who compared Green to the former Mirror publisher and pensions thief Robert Maxwell. Green’s clearly mad as hell about taking the rap for the demise of BHS. He has promised to “sort” the £571m pension scheme hole, and the mounting controversy – over his billions, his boat and his knighthood while BHS staff face pension cuts – would recede if he did exactly that. A single cheque is all that is required …