Cannes Film Festival — A–Z of films

5B isn't just a film with an interesting subject, it's a powerfully made, nuanced and thorough piece of work.

This is a long way off the beaten track of traditional narrative, but it is nonetheless engaging and affecting.

Touzani has no time for throwing a pity party for these women, she shows instead that they deserve our admiration rather than our sympathy.

A passionate energy courses beneath the surface of Levan Akin's tale of love and repression

Barandich's down-to-Earth charm and brusque humour anchors a film which finds absurdity in the commonplace details of life.

The difficult reality of life in Senegal dances with something much more otherworldly in Mati Diop's debut film.

Creates a unique and eerily grounded suspense that transcends genre.

The evocation of 1945 Leningrad is brilliantly captured with crumbling buildings and over-crowed trams but too often the dramatic set pieces fail to register

Dreams, memories and reality all intermingle to rather intoxicating effect

Havard's sullen features and emotional distance set the tone for the film so that even the tiniest spark of excitement has real power.

The acutely caught observational humour is what gives The Climb its motor.

Jarmusch usually manages to invest his films with a quirky sense of humour, but here the lines fall decidedly flat.

The director proves a master of the tragicomic as he observes one man's slip from midlife crisis to madness by way of obsession.

Dogs Don’t Wear Pants ultimately relishes its uncomfortable themes buoyed by a little humour and hopes of a life happy ever after for our two damaged human beings

Stone emphasises the loss of innocence to an extent beyond credibility.

The situations highlight a sense of existential loneliness in the modern world that might come with specifically Japanese trappings but which many elsewhere will recognise the emotional truth of.

Restrained performances from both leads contribute to the sense that something extraordinary is happening here undercover of the mundane.

In terms of basic plotting, there might not seem to be much here, but emotions crackle beneath the surface and the mood burns deep.

Stallone's energy and ambition knew no bounds in the Eighties.

Al-Kateab and Watt capture not just the horror of war but the vibrancy of those attempting to carry on their lives as best they can against its backdrop.

It is only sporadically involving with even the usually hypnotic Huppert struggling to make an impression.

The film may sometimes ramble but it's punctuated with action set pieces which combine great stunt work and a playful wit.

Disabled people just haven't had this kind of representation.

One of the flaws of Malick’s film is that the main character goes into introspective mode, thereby depriving us of any real insight in to his thoughts.

The fingerprints left behind by us an upon us as we go through life are considered by Jérémy Clapin's animated feature debut.

The whole film adheres to the director’s credo that simple story-telling does not mean a lack of depth or subtlety, or roughness around the edges.

Serra turns to period pieces not out of nostalgia, but quite the contrary, to provoke and dismantle - a grotesque imagery looking to alter the often sublime portrayal of such figures.

The trouble with all this mood, is that it eventually gets laid on too thick.

Captures the way that when you're living in a stressful situation, even a moment of respite can seem like a curve ball.

If you're going to do science fiction, you really need to get the science right, because otherwise all you're doing is attacking straw men.

The direction is workmanlike but well edited.

Special effects are obviously dated, but their quaintness only adds to the film's charm.

Ly wanted the people who have lived in these schemes to have the chance to tell their own stories, which gives Les Misérables an unerring sense of authenticity.

Hussain, ably supported by nuanced and heartfelt performances from Ignacius and Ladwa, wastes no time in quickly establishing a believable relationship between the two men

Unflinching in its horrific subject matter and challenging in its construction.

Based on Mosco Boucault’s documentary Roubaix, Commissariat Central, and using the actual interrogation transcripts, Desplechin shoots for a different tone.

Ogrodnik - so impressive in 2017's Silent Night - is magnetic.

Tarantino's on good form but there are moments in the middle of the 165-minute marathon where it flags before mustering for its finale.

Deliciously and deliberately theatrical

The tone is both bitter and sweet.

Engages with an energetic and angry vitality as well as authenticity.

Bong Joon Ho's tale of two families explores the wealth gap in South Korean society with wit, insight and a pitch black sense of humour.

while the scripting feels naturalistic, the decision to infer almost everything about Mena's, without being specific, feels frustratingly oblique in places.

He shows almost as much affection for body horror as his father David, and uses food to deliberately disgusting effect.

What could have been a traditionally lavish costume drama has been pared down to highlight the erotic tension and sensuality

Danielle Lessovitz’s first feature exudes a quiet confidence in her material.

Fletcher and his star Taron Egerton fling themselves flamboyantly into John’s life, riffing on events, giving them a surreal spin but always keeping how John is feeling about each moment front and centre.

Moody images don't make for high drama and even at a trim 87 minutes, the story feels stretched.

A masterpiece of horror cinema, it features a bleak atmosphere, striking visuals, frenzied performances, and an utterly unshakable, creeping sense of dread.

The director has an eye for a strong image that bodes well for future projects, but their use here is often smack on the nose.

This small, heartbreaking story illuminates much bigger issues.

A narrative that hits your emotional solar plexus with the raw power of the performances and the deceptive simplicity of the story.

Visually arresting and emotionally engaging.

Like many of Ferrara’s films, Tommaso starts out with seemingly insignificant details, but stacks them until they mount ominously.

The situation is ripe with ridiculousness, but Aljem shows a lot of restraint.

Lorcan Finnegan never allows us to lose sight of the absurdity of the situation, nor of the real life absurdities that it points up.

The whistling language is fun - and, if anything, disappointingly underused - but it's the language of cinema that Porumboiu is really interested in.

A White, White Day mingles some very dark dramatic moments with the comedy of the absurd.

Their provision of few motivational details makes for an unsatisfactory narrative.

Sex itself is mostly not shown, as its the initial connection with Lila and the emotional aftermath that counts.