East End Film Festival — A–Z of films

Weiwei is such a fascinating subject that even a documentary that never seems to stray into the experimental is compelling, but white text on a black screen does not a revolution make.

The title of Niall McGann’s documentary is a joke, elevating the work to a level of self-importance that the mischief therein consistently and amusingly undercuts.

This is a challenging and rewarding piece that reflects your own thoughts as much as those of the filmmaker.

Despite its grim subject, this is a film full of fight, with all the energy you'd expect from that.

That the film tests our patience due to the wearily extroverted characters and a distinct lack of laughter is undoubtedly more frustrating than the numb limbs arising from such an intimidating run-time.

A gentle, enjoyable little drama - a very comfortable and concise 80 minutes.

This low-key coming of age drama pokes gently into questions of faith, temptation, family and belonging.

Ray Winstone has always been at his best in comedy, and here he excels.

This is not just a piece of history, it's a how-to guide with lasting relevance.

Grim and unremitting, it's hard to go the distance.

This is a difficult film, full of abhorrent behaviours and unbearable tensions – but at the same time it shows a profound respect towards its troubled subject, and therefore towards its viewers as well.

A lovely piece of animated documentary, a touching portrait of a small moment in a family's formation.

Long Distance Information depicts that phone call so well, the stilted awkwardness as you ask about things you don't care about.

This might not seem like the most exciting piece of cinema but you'll be surprised by how quickly you find yourself rooting for its vivacious heroes.

Echoing Homer's Odyssey and also the procession of the Olympic torch, Swandown happens in fits and starts, sometimes achingly slow, intermittently brilliant.

Tsukamoto's preoccupations with meta(l)morphosis, body horror and unchecked masculinity remain firmly in place, as does the writer/director's way with outrageous images and ideas.

The film's vision of creation and destruction as coexisting drives within the steely heart of man has lost none of its arresting force over the years – or been outdone by Tsukamoto's two sequels.