Cannes Film Festival — A–Z of films

Hamaguchi’s most pointed provocation is not that the nursing home becomes excessive in its care, but that ordinary neglect has trained us to see basic tenderness as excess.

Planchon shows plenty of skill as he layers on the absurdity until several of the plotlines begin to coalesce.

La Bola Negra was an unfinished work in a life cut short but the film named (variously) for it is extension and tribute and triumph.

Throughout, Yeon’s directorial skill and Byun Bong-sun’s stylish cinematography grip viewers’ attention.

Crescendo has a buoyant sense of fun

That sense of human frailty – in mind as well as body – which haunts much of European colonial literature is strongly in evidence here.

It’s somewhat odd that Mendez has opted for several different styles for this, but every one is enjoyable.

Baudry excels in the well-orchestrated battle sequences and the huge protesting crowds surrounding the Arc de Triomphe in Paris.

Matoshi is brilliantly cast, her expressive performance showing the many facets of fear.

The chemistry between Demoustier and Marmaï is at least one Van de Graaff’s worth and Lellouche’s Armand has a playful ambivalence that works well.

If proof was needed that the ethics of the two-minute commercial have taken over the visual media, this is it.

The way Zischler and Hüller play their relationship is so wonderfully real and subtle and appropriately opaque for all us non-Mann family members, that it at times brought tears to my eyes.

Mungiu’s eye moves between the juggernaut and the barely visible.

The unassuming love story serves a second purpose, employing a personal lens to explore the European Union’s troubling status quo.

As with many Dupieux films, beneath the laughter there’s a fair bit of insight into the absurdity of human relationships.

Goodbye Cruel World shifts the narrative away from the bleakness one might expect, showing that it’s possible to make a film about a difficult and sensitive subject with tenderness, humour and sprinkles of hope.

Pompeii becomes a place where fantasy is tested against historical violence, and where looking too closely can break the story one came to preserve.

Hope's scale and scope and delightful detail make it a banquet, if not an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Comes at you like a pint of lager with a Jäger bomb chaser and a packet of crisps – strong, energising, salty and sharp, you feel the headiness and the kick.

The plot begins where screenwriting manuals would suggest a cut, in the aimless downtime of everyday life.

A crucial historical document, but also a great film.

Khebizi’s performance anchors the film.

There exists no safe ground when you are part of a regime that uses fear and threats as casual tools.

Zvyagintsev handles this material with his familiar control: psychological realism, cold visual restraint and an aversion to overt flourish.

A masterpiece of accomplishment.

The issue is that if you strip out the elevated craft and A-list performances, what is left is the sort of bread-and-butter plot arc Cagney & Lacey used to rely on back in the day.

Suffers from an underdeveloped subplot and over-indulged length.

Le Coroller’s horror is at its best when it focuses on Margot’s psychological meltdown as she works against the clock.

Anderson and Einbinder are a terrific pairing.

Murphy lets the family’s lives shine out without romanticising the situation.

Wigon’s film is arch as a proscenium from the start

Small movements – the awkwardness of a child shrinking into himself, the hesitation before speaking, the forced confidence of fitting in – gain an almost painful realism.

Director Charline Bourgeois-Tacquet weaves an intricate life for Gabrielle without making it feel like a melodrama