Edinburgh International Film Festival — A–Z of films

Petzold’s most literary film to date.

In search of authenticity that is a lot of artificiality.

Janis Pugh’s ability to blend crowdpleasing comedy and emotional poignancy should not be underestimated.

The violence is heavy going and the atmosphere constantly fraught with a growing sense of foreboding.

Everything Everywhere All At Once is bravura, high concept, unhinged and beautifully crafted.

The tension is masterfully handled in a revenge thriller narrative which also poses difficult ethical questions.

The basketball sequences grab the eye as firmly as the players grasp the ball.

In many ways Fremont is advocating the importance of accepting that a life can be both average and fulfilling.

Every cinematic trick in the book to make Hero's violence as sexy as a car commercial

There’s lot of video footage of her playing as a child, obviously very happy and doing the same kinds of things as any other kid her age.

The pace is frantic, the colours electrifying and the storyline zippedy-who-dah

Capturing the experience of living in a world where one’s gender doesn’t fit better than almost any other film to date, Preciado’s work is all about claiming space and present day narrative.

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.

One of the most subtle films of the ongoing year.

To say too much about what happens in each episode would be to spoil the joy of encountering Song’s finely worked screenplay, which lets its characters' emotions glitter in the light.

The animation interconnects, sometimes in the same image, with a beautifully recreated Eighties suburban world.

A real return to form, a fully developed story in its own right.

Raging Grace is a Gothic thriller with the potential to appeal to a wide audience. It’s also a fierce critique of the racism embedded in a culture which still treats it as normal for some perfectly capable people to be waited on by others, and to treat them as less than human in the process.

There are some brilliant slapstick sequences and there’s also great character work which emphasises that, for truly skilled actors, spoken dialogue is far from a necessity.

Simultaneously bold, sweet and sometimes off-putting.

Solo features wonderfully detailed sets which give depth and meaning to its characters’ lives, plus fantastic costume work both on and off the stage.

Whilst there is an element of science fiction here, co-writer/director Karoline Lyngbye focuses on the psychological possibilities that it opens up.

Almost every part of this slowburn road to not quite the middle of nowhere could be read either as a clue or a clever maguffin.

Viewers are likely to go away appreciating Aubrey’s frustrations and perhaps, if they share them, feeling validated, but without the tools to do anything about them.