London Film Festival — A–Z of films

Abominable provides spectacle but fails to satisfy at a narrative level.

The film blushes with good intentions and yet cannot fulfil its ultimate promise of discovering strength in originality.

A passionate energy courses beneath the surface of Levan Akin's tale of love and repression

The story develops episodically, with each client given their bit of patter, some of which work better than others.

The difficult reality of life in Senegal dances with something much more otherworldly in Mati Diop's debut film.

Milla might be dying but she's also, paradoxically, finding her way in the world and working out what she wants, even if time is short.

Creates a unique and eerily grounded suspense that transcends genre.

It's classic film noir; except that, being the work of Pedro Almodóvar, much of it is shot in lurid colour, not all the girls are really girls, and not all the boys are what they claim to be, either.

The evocation of 1945 Leningrad is brilliantly captured with crumbling buildings and over-crowed trams but too often the dramatic set pieces fail to register

You cannot have too much Mister Rogers, the film shows.

Ozon does not smooth over the rough edges and the icy roads stay icy.

It's usually Keoghan who gets the acting plaudits, but though he is good as a wannabe bad guy, it's Jarvis who provides the heft, in more ways than one here.

Fayyad carefully balances sound so that audiences are not overwhelmed by the thunder of the shelling but still get enough of a sense of it to understand what it does to those on the ground.

Despite the raw power of its performances, the film suffers from an impulse to spell out some of its points.

The acutely caught observational humour is what gives The Climb its motor.

The mood here is increasingly grim.

There are themes around punishment and forgiveness running throughout this film but they're rarely simple.

With searing use of colour and that sense of joy in physicality that was key to the master's work, this is a film that you will find it very hard to look away from.

An opportunity for the Roma to take command of the telling of their own story.

The director proves a master of the tragicomic as he observes one man's slip from midlife crisis to madness by way of obsession.

Sometimes a film is interesting despite its director.

Dogs Don’t Wear Pants ultimately relishes its uncomfortable themes buoyed by a little humour and hopes of a life happy ever after for our two damaged human beings

Merrick’s history, with its tragedies and triumphs, breaks the barrier between a life less ordinary and a horror comic.

There's a volatility and a sweetness at play in what is, at heart, a character study and writer/director Craig Roberts strikes an impressive balance of mood.

The situations highlight a sense of existential loneliness in the modern world that might come with specifically Japanese trappings but which many elsewhere will recognise the emotional truth of.

With formal narration which captures the style of the period and similarly distinctive dialogue, the film quickly immerses viewers in its small but volatile world.

Grozeva and Valchanov allow a gentle absurdity to flow through the film.

In terms of basic plotting, there might not seem to be much here, but emotions crackle beneath the surface and the mood burns deep.

The bleak chill of the Quebecois winter seeps into the very bones of Denis Côté's latest film, giving a sense of aching longing to the action.

This is the sort of story that will be familiar to viewers of the likes of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit, as the lifestyle of the accused is put on trial as much as her actions.

Disabled people just haven't had this kind of representation.

The performance Erivo delivers is the film's greatest asset and makes her a serious contender this awards season, but though she dominates the film, she's not all there is to appreciate here.

One of the flaws of Malick’s film is that the main character goes into introspective mode, thereby depriving us of any real insight in to his thoughts.

This is a highly personal work that opens the door on some dark truths of Hollywood and fame, but it also doesn’t quite know what to do to elevate itself beyond a peep show into human misery.

House Of Hummingbird centres on a quiet yet never passive performance from Park, who draws us into Eun-hee's world as we watch her absorbing and processing the events going on around her.

Scorsese shoots at what is truly important in life and does so, miraculously, by putting the spotlight on organised crime

The fingerprints left behind by us an upon us as we go through life are considered by Jérémy Clapin's animated feature debut.

As Jojo, Davis delivers one of the finest performances of the year.

There's layer upon layer of clever artifice here, yet the result is something that feels fresh and sexy.

Greenfield keeps tight control, allowing Marcos to say what she wants, while busily illustrating the opposing perspective.

As a whodunit, the film is fun and forgettable.

We don't see the much of the immediate aftermath of death here, but instead are treated to the way grief can linger, catching anger and guilt in its wake

Only really comes alive in the last ten minutes.

The trouble with all this mood, is that it eventually gets laid on too thick.

Ably performed all round, with a strong turn from Sandoval in the lead, this is a timely reflection on how it feels to be an outsider in the land of the free.

If you're going to do science fiction, you really need to get the science right, because otherwise all you're doing is attacking straw men.

The Lodge hinges on a powerhouse performance from Keough, who inhabits the troubled Grace so completely that we can stay with her even as her ability to distinguish what's real and what isn't breaks down.

What happened makes less sense at a distance, but it's only when we pull back that we can see it clearly.

There's a rare intelligence to this film, which explores issues around race, wealth, class, gender and what it means to be a real American in a nuanced, multifaceted way.

Grandma is neither sweet nor innocent: a hard smoking, confrontational battleaxe with, nonetheless a heart of gold.

The sort of film that the word "charmer" was made for.

Scrimshaw captures Lynn's warring emotions perfectly.

The film avoids the easy route to Clicheville and stays on the dark side of the road.

The film is at its best when it is portraying conflicted emotions - as old love underlies fresh acrimony.

Luca Marinelli is excellent in the lead, balancing intensity with intelligence, convincing at every stage of Martin's journey.

A film which is there not just to be watched, but to be experienced.

Brummer is the perfect choice to play Nick.

Landes' film has the queasy, uneasy feel of a nightmare - and that's before magic mushrooms are involved.

This is another downward spiralling character piece with the same bruising toughness of its predecessor, but handled with a tauter, darkly playful control.

There’s a refreshing straight-forwardness to Gavin Hood’s Official Secrets.

An enjoyably constructed puzzle box of a genre film.

Deliciously and deliberately theatrical

The way ahead may be a little pre-destined but the director let's the tension drip through every beautifully shot moment by cinematographer Michal Englert - with the sort of imagery that could see her film achieve its own cult appeal.

It feels a bit like a box-ticking exercise at a funding body.

In one remarkably intimate scene we watch a woman saying goodbye to a sleeping child so tiny that he won’t really understand what has happened when he wakes up and Mummy isn’t there.

Smutný gives us faces that will stories even when they're still, the weight of long experience etched into every line.

Details sparkle in the script too, pared back to only what is needed.

The film generates a feel-good vibe even if beneath the pleasant froth lies a rather predictable polemic against the patriarchy.

It would be difficult to find anything but goodness in Copperfield's personal history and a delight in the way things turn and turn again.

The thing that makes Piranhas watchable is the performance of its star, Francesco Di Napoli.

What could have been a traditionally lavish costume drama has been pared down to highlight the erotic tension and sensuality

The problem with The Report is that despite this ongoing relevance, its powerful subject matter, the capable cast and an impressive script, it never builds up the impetus it ought to have.

The camera is, literally, down with the kids, at their eye level, drinking in their mayhem, their laughter and their viewpoint.

Although as a genre cinema, Kelly's film fits into the current wave of new gangster cinema, one cannot help but feel that the creator wanted to put a little too much into his work.

Tightly structured and well-shot

There is a lot going on here on both a family and a political level, but Barsaoui sensibly avoids spelling things out letter by letter.

Because it is filmed over time and because it is the result of so many conversations, it has depth.

Synchronic is science fiction thinking about itself.

This isn't an easy watch but it's a compelling one.

A film about how our identities are shaped and how formative experiences shape our notions of normality.

As character studies go, it's familiar ground but Funes succeeds in exploring it with some tenacity and strikes emotional chords without resorting to melodrama.

Former pop star Atsuko Maeda is wonderful in the lead, the perfect match for Kurosawa's style, communicating volumes with the most delicate of expressions.

Bustamante employs physical earthquakes as well, with a similar subtlety that he goes on to use the myth of La Llorona in his follow up film

Two of Us jolts the senses - you can smell when the hot pan stays on the stove too long and want to interfere.

The Two Popes is totally captivating when Pryce and Hopkins simply talk and react to each other.

The situation is ripe with ridiculousness, but Aljem shows a lot of restraint.

Lorcan Finnegan never allows us to lose sight of the absurdity of the situation, nor of the real life absurdities that it points up.

Rylance is superb throughout in a role perfectly suited to his talents.

The whistling language is fun - and, if anything, disappointingly underused - but it's the language of cinema that Porumboiu is really interested in.

White Riot is as brisk, to the point and direct as any punk song of the period.

A White, White Day mingles some very dark dramatic moments with the comedy of the absurd.