Fantasia International Film Festival — A–Z of films

The realist approach that [Riedel] takes to the film as a whole means that when it slips out of that space, the result is truly unsettling.

Director Bob Colaers shows us the strain in the way that Boumazoughe fights, which is its own kind of impressive.

The real test here will come down to how you feel about the characters.

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

The production values here are a cut above what one would normally expect for something with this theme and these characters.

Fujii is a trained dancer very much at ease in the role, but it’s his ability to be both po-faced and charismatic that really makes this work.

A high concept piece of work delivered with skill.

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

Much more tightly structured than its style might suggest, and much, much darker.

The emotional punch is the one you won’t see coming.

The more you know about this story and its context, the more you will find to appreciate about the choices made by director Peter Hengl.

There are some stunning framing choices.

The weaknesses in its narrative and dialogue are in large part compensated for by the elegance of its design.

With little movement between locations, it’s easy to imagine this working as a stage play, and yet the framing choices matter a good deal.

It comes across like a Japanese version of Performance, with all that studied oddity, sexual mutability, and narrative uncertainty.

The darkness in the film is balanced by humorous observations about the way that kids in general tend to take their support frameworks for granted.

Whenever the narrative threatens to stagger, one of those wonderful little leaps of porn logic gets it back on track.

This incorporates a great deal more petulance and whining than the average mockumentary, but is sufficiently astute in its observations to remain entertaining.

Hinges on that doubt still lingering in the minds of many modern people when they move out of reach of reassuring infrastructure and services.

Lulu Wilson’s impatient energy and Wexler’s panache are perfectly matched.

Here, ideas do not flow hierarchically: they are conceived in the space between two individuals; they emerge from conversation and are endlessly recycled, coming to seem more like the obvious truth every time.

The energy of it, combined with Gálvez’s endearing performance, means it’s likely to work well in any environment.

A strangely honest take on how people cope with the shock of impending parenthood.

Although the film is quite tightly plotted, with the police racing to catch Toro before he strikes again, Jōjō is really more interested in the men’s internal journeys.

Like all the best supernatural tales, it keeps the rules simple but still manages to wrongfoot viewers.

Writer/director Hanna Bergholm walks the line with skill.

By taking us into the interior space of a type of character usually only seen from the outside, Birban Levy is able to engage with the romantic as more than an observed trope.

Jacob Møller’s cinematography brings out the mystery and danger of fog; the bright urgency of summer days, green grass and sparkling water on pale bodies; and the weight of darkness with equal surety.

The unfussy format suits the clarity and minimalism of the Ultraman design and narratives.

It...contains one of the most ruthless break-ups in recent cinematic history.

Told entirely without dialogue but with an upbeat, summery score from Talita Del Collado, it has an eco-conscious vibe.

Joseph Field Eccles and Nick Smyth’s sound design...is magnificent from start to finish, and full of playful touches.

Violence is always lurking at the edge of the narrative.

McDonald has once more created a unique and entertaining film that will be appreciated by fans of the zombie film and the quirky comedy alike.

Though its subject may be technical, this is essentially a rock n’ roll story.

An accomplished first feature for director Gloria Mercer.

Full of potent observations, this film is a triumph of editing and a valuable record of events on that pivotal night.

Charismatic yet nuanced performances from both leads keep the film in balance, and though most of the dialogue is simply conversational, the subtext goes deep.

Sometimes there is nothing to be said. The camera lingers on the actor’s faces, communication become voiceless.

Anderson and Einbinder are a terrific pairing.

The performances here are spot on, but it’s the rich detail that really brings it to life.

The action in the film is impressive throughout but is never allowed to overwhelm it.

Characters who belong to a fairy tale or folkloric world struggle to contain themselves in flesh, edged out by the existence of mere mortals who, despite their vulnerability, forever push them to the edges of the narrative.

Like all the best war movies, Tunnels is rooted in the understanding that these young people and first and foremost fighting to stay alive and to protect or avenge their friends.

For a zombie film, it is remarkably sanguine.

There is layer upon layer of trickery at work here, unspooled in a farcical manner which will delight some viewers and infuriate others.

Katagiri’s work utilises a dramatic form which breaks down over time, becoming increasingly surreal as Miki disconnects from the world as we know it.

With its realistic Filipino backgrounds and its honest depictions of rounded Filipino bodies, this film...represents a milestone in the development of a national style of animation.