Karlovy Vary International Film Festival — A–Z of films

Aaaaaaaah! is a beautifully crafted piece of work masquerading as an ethnological study made by chimpanzees.

The closer the glance at the specifics, the more universal the plight becomes.

Nölle's greatest achievement is to keep the magic realist realm firmly anchored to the real so that reality feels touched by imagination rather than smothered by it.

His - and Johnson's - real triumph in Anomalisa comes in the smaller gestures and human moments

The final 20 minutes turn the screen into a video game.

Groeningen completely sells us the world of the bar, his immersive tracking and handheld camera leading us into the melee where coke and hedonism are served straight up and the music pounds to be let into your bloodstream.

One of the great masterpieces of modern cinema

Brutally effective in what it does overall, which is fuse western and horror tropes to create a slow-burning, visceral experience that, although not flawless, should ensure fans of both genres are satisfied.

The result is a gripping, disturbing experience, though one which risks numbing as much as it informs or shocks viewers.

Taken as a whole, however, the director is trying too hard, pushing this family so far into caricature that we lose sight of the story of grief that is underpinning the shenanigans.

A fluffy and charming confection that has an enticing exterior without much substance on the inside.

The film itself has a fluid identity, part will they/won't they romance, part mystery and part unsettling thriller.

Akiz has crafted a film which may fall down a little when it comes to special effects but which soars in its depiction of life on the brink.

If this gang of ideas doesn’t quite hang together as it should, Benyamina still makes her mark with some brilliant moments.

This film is worth seeing simply for its National Geographic style snapshot of rural Mongolia.

Skop has made documentaries in the past and he and Vásáryová are alive to small gestures.

Omerzu's observational, unsentimental style and the cool, stripped back lensing from Lukas Milota means that increasingly outlandish unfortunate events unfold with an acidic humour rather than melodrama.

The symbolism in Fire At Sea is so organic that it might dawn on you hours or days after seeing the film.

The physicality and fluidity of adolesence are brought to the fore by Anna Rose Holmer in her tightly directed debut feature that avoids the bear traps of American coming-of-age cliche to offer a classy, thoughtful character study.

The direction and writing may show signs of first-time work but Karanovic's fearless performance is one of an actress right on the top of her game that smooths over the cracks in plausibility and holds you hard in its gaze.

Cristian Mungiu is such a master of vivisecting human interrelations that we might almost overlook how he sets the tone with animals, vegetables and minerals.

One of the film’s leading forces is its stunning visual composition.

Kuosmanen constantly shifts perspective, asking us to view the situation from a different angle - and another place of emotional truth.

Taika Waititi knows growing up isn't child's play but he also respects childhood as a place of adventure, where spontaneity rules and the possibilities are only limited by imagination.

The film looks great if you like sand

What happened here? Where did all the people go? This question might be asked as much of the settings as of the story they create.

Even when we are ready to dismiss something presented to us as 'scientific' evidence, we are still ready to swallow a lie if it comes with an emotionally satsifying coating.

In Passer's hands, understatement is a powerful weapon.

Directors looking for inspiration in how to get things done on a budget, could take a leaf out of Szabolcs Hajdu's book.

The histrionics on display submerge everything else while the narrative pitch throws so much at the spectator that it is impossible to sympathise with anyone.

While the narrative framework may not quite go the distance, the shot choices are never less than exquisite.

Almodóvar exudes a new found confidence.

Kills On Wheels is a brutal and brutally funny thriller.

A breathtaking piece of work.

This is not about once upon a times or fairy tale endings but the challenges on the way and it stands as a testament to the love and determination of every member of the Suskind family.

The film could be called "old fashioned" but that is rarely a bad thing.

A perfect example of film-noir, Laura has an intelligent and unpredictable plot, beautiful cinematography and an unforgettable score.

Lost And Beautiful is filmed on expired 16mm film stock, in keeping with its themes, and the result is a delicate, watery palette which gives it a unique beauty.

At the midway point, the screenplay begins to flap about all over the place but Smoczynska's firm, high-energy directing - including an extras-laden shopping centre extravaganza - doesn't stop to let you consider them for too long.

Mauro Herce's cinematography is stunning and merges perfectly with the soundscape created by Emilio García Rivas.

Sinatra is committed to this role and succeeds in exploiting Frankie's vulnerability, without resorting to sentimental tricks, or audience grabbing histrionics.

What raises the movie above the average is former Spin magazine editor Shapiro's journalistic eye, which ensures that all the angles are covered.

Mascaro is completely in control of his material.

The use of handheld camera is more distracting than immersive and gives the film a dated air, while the script refuses to dig beyond surface accusations and hand-wringing about the state of society.

Alexander Surkala’s sumptuous cinematography makes the place look endlessly beguiling and, intermittently, delivers us into the kind of darkness that can only exist in contrast with such light.

Miroslav Janek's latest documentary aims to immerse us in the lives and views of those who are autistic, shifting the perspective so that the film becomes as much about the way they view the neurotypical as the other way around.

Hull's reflections touch on areas the sighted rarely stop to consider, such as the way that still photos are easier to remember than actual physical moments with loved ones.

Complex, sometimes conflicting emotions are beautifully played by Gedeck.

Pasolini's unfinished life remains painfully unresolved, as it should be.

After the initial disbelief that Jarmusch has written and directed a movie as simple and quiet as this, you settle into the rhythm of the piece and begin to appreciate the secret

Emotions run deep and tragedy is as predictable as rust. This is Visconti at the pinnacle of his powers.

Our sympathies are torn and turned on a dime.

Some just won't manage to connect but others will relish its intelligence and find it deeply moving.

The absurd exaggerations and the wild parishes of humor are completely original, never cruel, and attached to a physicality that is pure cinema.

Kirill Serebrennikov takes a fearless approach to filmmaking, unafraid of blending intellectual ideas with realistic settings.

Hrebejk and Jarchovsý deftly employ humour as a way of mocking and undercutting their anti-heroine while preventing their overall point about power and corruption from becoming preachy.

The use of abstract visuals, however, not only forces us to focus more intently on what is being said in the section about Miriam but also encourages us to become attuned to the 'everyday' life we are seeing.

Maitland keeps his balance superbly and ensures that this telling has the force it needs.

The film really shouldn’t work, but it does.

Petr Vaclav's latest film is almost smothering in its bleakness.

Its facts and its fictions come together so seamlessly that it’s almost impossible to separate the man from the myth.

This modern fairytale has its dark side, but it’s not as grim as something the Brothers Grimm would have concocted.