Leeds International Film Festival — A–Z of films

The ordinary material of growing up mingles here with trans-specific experiences.

Loose and responsive camerawork from cinematographer Douwe Hennink makes his camera feel as though it is part of the family.

What emerges over the course of O’Connor’s feature is not a saintly monument but a vibrant, difficult, funny, and unsentimental person.

The directors with their fifth feature take a humane view of the plight of their subjects but spare us any over-sentimentality

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.

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

Eisenberg’s obvious love of amateur dramatics provides The Debut with a foundation that feels akin to a warm hug.

Hossain keeps the mood claustrophobic.

Heldman’s sharpest instinct is to show how a society polices intimacy by pretending it cannot see it.

Scott’s beacon of light is swallowed up by Stone and Beresford’s heavy-handedness.

Sociopolitics spritzes delicately, like the water from the club's sprinklers, over the whole affair.

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

A witty, gory and trippy descent into altered states of consciousness, eroticised power plays and the clash between humankind, monstrous entities and hybridised 'others'.

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

Danny Boyle brings his customary energy to James Graham’s adaptation of his own stage play, which flies along quicker than paper through a printing press.

What follows is not a simple coming-out narrative and not a whodunit either, but an internal struggle constantly externalised through ritual and space.

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

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.

De Araújo is particularly good at evoking the emotional turmoil Jo feels.

While the film has political and sociological themes, it ultimately succeeds because it’s about the true spirit of the people.

Worse than incomplete, Haigh's film lacks a fully developed soul. This is in spite of striking aesthetic moments and sharply written scenes complemented by strong performances from the cast.

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

One of the most impressive films of the year to date.

Miiku Sakanishi’s gentle debut builds a movingly humanistic consideration of family and community relationships, while also musing on our connection to photography itself.

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

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

By viewing the situation, at least initially, mostly from the perspective of the bears, the directors ask us to consider who exactly is trespassing on whose turf.

Even if almost all of Johnny's journey into darkness takes place on foot, only his first steps are truly pedestrian.

A masterpiece of accomplishment.

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

Seen purely in aesthetic terms, Persepolis is an object of rare beauty, with no obvious precedents or parallels in the history of anime.

Shot in stark black-and-white, Luis Emilio Guzmán’s script builds its pressure through texture and restraint.

Apart from setting the tone and maintaining it, the strongest point of Schleinzer’s filmmaking is casting and directing the actors' interactions between one another and the environment.

Suffers from an underdeveloped subplot and over-indulged length.

Tender Loving Care is all about the little bits of conversation that make the world a bit more comfy for others.

Lime is one of the cinema’s greatest baddies.

Malkovich and Rockwell are magnetic.

Thornton demands a certain level of patience from the audience as the narratives mosey along, but his control of mood is a major asset.