Cambridge Film Festival — A–Z of films

Campillo has a weakness in not knowing when to trim all the talking.

Essential viewing for anyone with an interest in the craft of filmmaking.

Everything feels alive and the production design by Judy Becker is impeccable.

An accomplished portrait that presents something much more human than we're used to in this context.

Intelligent, humane and multi-layered, The Breadwinner is a much more substantial film than its central heroic narrative might suggest.

Quiet and focused where US documentaries on similar themes tend to be aggressive, it brings a distinctly Scandinavian sensibility to its subject, and is stronger for it.

Thanks to Melville's spare approach, the film feels cool in both senses of the phrase and there's time to really focus on the look.

Though it focuses on one company, this film encapsulates a struggle faced by travelling cinemas across India and in other parts of the world.

Capturing this moment, this opening up, writer/director team Cecilia Atán and Valeria Pivato demonstrate that there's room on the big screen for small things.

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

Lelio makes no bones about how he wants us to feel, to the point where it sometimes feels as though he is stating the obvious is six-foot neon letters.

Fuller is absorbing in the central role, really giving it her all.

Instead of engaging the viewer through emotion, the film becomes a predictable horror that barely scrapes the surface with the theme of suicide.

The film’s most gripping aspect is the delicacy with which it handles its extraordinary emotional depth

The script doesn't patronise its characters, showing they're just as capable of the best of actions and the worst as anybody else, but makes sure we understand the additional pressures they face.

Lanthimos confirms his reputation as one of contemporary cinema’s most original and unsettling directors

How the film avoids animation overload is with a script that apes cynical teenspeak and a voice cast that is ensemble perfection.

Though the filmmaking is good, the bleakness of the message is unremitting.

Rather than pick apart rituals... Weinstein simply lets us see them in action as part of the natural fabric of his life

A sharp script full of camp and an emotional punch that knocks us over at the end.

The truth is, as much as Disney wants to inspire its young viewers, it also knows what sells.

For a slow film, there is too much plot.

A bold study of what it means to be Chinese in the modern age.

It is significant that No Land's Song in some ways mirrors that inclination for layering female voices by only presenting Sara's thoughts and opinions through conversation with others.

No amount of experience watching modern slasher films will inure you to the fear that Hitchcock could instill with his masterly pacing and restraint.

Even if the facts are fiction, you still get the sense of a man who is driven, at least in part, by an urge to bring some sort of happiness by shooting film rather than bullets.

In 30 minutes we are treated to a story that teaches us more about the resilience of the human spirit and the triumphs it can achieve over hardships and injustices than many films three or four times as long.

Some of the art is truly breathtaking, especially the star-filled skies, and the movement of the various animals we meet is beautifully observed.

There is an artistic sensibility in Ramsay's approach to film.

While satirically entertaining in places it has too many threads competing for attention and ultimately runs out of steam.

Snow White, the first full-length animated feature, shows a class that Disney has since run out of.

Like a complex jigsaw, each piece slots into place perfectly, completing a richly detailed picture of one man and his determination.

We see the killer at home, observe him moving through life like an ordinary man, but something is always subtly off key.

This creative and visually arresting adaptation of Brian Selznick’s critically acclaimed novel marks a filmmaker at the top of his game.

Lynne Ramsay's adaptation of the book perfectly matches its intimacy, too close for comfort for some, and manages to make aspects of it even darker.

Trengove strikes a good balance between showing the cultural importance, even though on the wane, of old-fashioned masculinity and personal drama between Xolani and Kwanda, slowly ratcheting up the tension to breaking point.

Nothing plays out as you expect, with Ramsay maintaining an unsettling staccato that keeps both the action and the viewer on edge.