Berlin International Film Festival — A–Z of films

The personal emotion of its director Samaher Alqadi punches through the centre of it hard - which gives her film a searing edge even if much of it feels scrappy and politically muddied.

Many doors are not very open, they give us merely a little glimpse into a strange world.

At times, the dialogue is well done, scores points. At other times, it felt like we had wandered into a Socratic symposium.

There's an elegance to the filmmaking as this story unravels its themes of societal prejudice, justice and remorse that elevates every frame.

If they sometimes have trouble moving seamlessly between the smaller dramas of childhood and the bigger picture of the protests, each element of the film carries resonance in its own right.

Cummings and McCabe want to have it all - and go a fairly long way towards getting it.

Bliss is one of those films whose craft may not immediately be apparent to the average viewer, but it’s a beautifully constructed piece of work.

The world presented by Radlmaier is a creation in which not only are the social relations absurd but the time is mixed up.

The director shows the warmth of the children against the cool aloofness of teachers who feel little connection to their wards, even as we know even Yusuf's herculean efforts are likely to prove ineffectual.

Running a tight 84 minutes, the film still feels like an epic journey into both its seedy world and its heroine’s psyche.

For all its intricacy and cleverness, this is a film that never loses its central focus.

There is something optimistic about joining this wave of humanity, from all walks of life, as they brandish flowers in the air and peacefully demonstrate against the regime.

Its Jurassic Park style themes concerning failed Utopias passed through the prism of Sixties politics and activism have a certain childlike simplicity to them and, as such, are likely to prove more endearing to some audiences than others.

The daily routine of a simple junkie-dreamer-poet who slowly gets lost in all the layers and worlds of the film just becomes too chaotic.

Pfeiffer’s delivery is fantastically inscrutable.

Petré does not use filters, showing the world as it is – starkly beautiful on the eve of disaster.

The Zürchers carefully construct their web of relationships, showing how a small vibration somewhere can lead to unexpected consequences elsewhere.

A sassy classic with heart.

Added together, the elements create a compelling urgency by making the who, why and when of its movements unpredictable yet emotionally honest.

Watching Alma grow closer to Tom is bittersweet – not least because she knows the danger.

The rather conventional structure of Yana Ugrekhelidze's film, which follows the couple over several years, serves to highlight the ordinariness of its subjects and the Kafkaesque nature of the invisible prison woven around them.

The simple narrative is less important than the Vajdas' scrutiny of the psychology and complex nature of addiction, with Arámbula's performance magnetic in its vulnerability.

Atienza and Reyboy are buddies, and the warmth of their friendship glows through almost every conversation they have.

Bolognesi achieves a bracing hybrid that changes the usual dynamic between documentary viewer and subject.

Despite Rahim's excellent work, the real standout here is Benedict Cumberbatch.

The memories have the vibrant immediacy of teenage energy and are treated by Hadjithomas and her co-director Khalil Joreige in the same spirited fashion.

One of the most impressive documentaries of the year.

This is impressionistic filmmaking and the young director handles it with extraordinary confidence.

Unlike many first-time directors who have the urge to cram more and more in, Nagy and his co-writer Pál Závada instead strip things back, letting the trudge of the men tell its own tale.

Like last year's Baby Done and 2019's Saint Frances this is a thoroughly modern consideration of impending motherhood that doesn't shy away from subjects like casual sex and allows the mother not to be consumed by sudden maternal instinct.

The autumn setting fits it perfectly, because although this is the change of the year as things die back for winter, it is also blazing with colour and hopefulness.

Although the directors are obviously rooting for Krasner to succeed, they try to present the situation 'in the round', giving plenty of room for those who worked under the previous administration to air their views as well.

Shengze Zhu mixes the past, present and vision of the future in a new, strange, anti-social, empty world.

Drifting through the angst-ridden conversations of a classic New York drama before morphing into something more like giallo, the film makes a positive asset of its low production values, which give it a sense of freshness and urgency.

Côté has often played with artifice, particularly in his documentaries, and here he pushes things to experimental extremes.

Gornostai avoids obvious narrative arcs in favour of just letting us hang out and observe the everyday challenges and small dramas that pepper the lives of these 16-year-olds.

Filmed without commentary and with a poetic grace.

Right from the outset, this film zeroes in on Tina's natural charisma.

Digression builds upon detour, which piles charmingly onto excursion, sometimes lifted, sometimes pushed and always shaped by a score that also roams freely in its influences.

The Japanese filmmaker guides his actors as if they were just learning emotions, creating an impression of awkwardness.