London Film Festival — A–Z of films

Otero, who is in almost every scene, carries the film with her fresh and naturalistic performance, which is perfectly complemented by Solaguren’s impressionistic style.

Protagonist Adam (Andrew Scott) lives in a neatly furnished home, no longer feels the need to hide his sexuality, and tells himself he’s fine, but the music says otherwise.

Pregnancy is often depicted as a state of enhanced vulnerability, and one which points the way to increased dependency. Here, Alaoui turns that around.

The aerial shots of the forest and the believable transformations with feathers, wings, beaks and claws as well as fish scales, make for riveting viewing.

Glob confesses that she initially thought of Apolonia’s life as a fairy tale, something more like fiction than reality, but over the course of 13 long years she comes to recognise not only the humanity of her subject, but her own.

The Beast explores what Henry James diagnosed so devastatingly. The chill of egotism and the feverish dance around the void are so desperately relevant today that it leaves one breathless.

Young Lister is a marvel, showing a remarkably sophisticated understanding of what her role requires as Lila, having suffered significant brain damage, gradually begins to require verbal and motor skills.

The unadorned observation of the physical aspects of the relationship in which middle-aged bodies are shown without artifice is one of the most hypnotic aspect of Naveriani’s vision.

There is great chemistry between them and Jaques knows when to tread lightly, letting their natural humour take over.

Simply put, I don't know what it's trying to do, and I don't know if it does either.

The hand-drawn beauty of the images always connects to ideas, something grander that we have yet to find out about.

A multi-layered journey into the filmmaking process.

The action element of the film has the enjoyable verve of the original, particularly when the mechanics of the nugget-maker are involved, but the lack of a tight focus on characters in one place makes the emotional heart of the matter more diffuse.

A meditation on both memory and movies as well as ageing and a hankering for the past that is informed by the melancholic knowledge that nostalgia is inevitably rose-tinted.

Its pastiches of mid-20th Century Korean cinema are beautifully observed and a lot of fun.

As Copa 71 goes on to show, it’s not the players that are the problem but the lack of a level playing field.

Though aimed at children, it’s so beautiful that viewers of all ages will find themselves enraptured.

Moreno isn’t shy about his use of symbolism...What this effects to disguise, however, is the degree to which [the men's] own thinking has been shaped by symbols and by the belief system which surrounds them.

Jude masterfully keeps the audience attached to the screen for almost three hours without relying on heightened tensions or conventional plot twists.

There are so many shots through things, boundaries, borders, thresholds, that we are primed for other barriers crossed. Those transgressions are not light ones, but in them is an abject honesty.

If you take it for what it is rather than what it was marketed as, The End We Start From is an interesting watch.

Striking in its intimacy.

Hamaguchi isn’t scared to completely change the rhythm of his film on a dime, something that is likely to frustrate as many people as it delights.

An amuse-bouche of a film, Aki Kaurismäki’s latest comedy romance may leave you wanting more but it’s also a fully rounded, good looking experience packed with all the flavours we’ve come to expect from the master of deadpan down the years.

An emotionally engaging portrait of the struggles of life on a Native American reservation in Oklahoma

There’s something inherently endearing about the way that Nikou always managed to conjure timelessness in his worlds. They’re more analogue than futuristic but ultimately hang in a sort of limbo of ‘here but not quite now’.

The exposure of the film’s underlying structures...invites audiences to think about the processes of storytelling and interpretation, which is important, because it’s a story which took the missing women away.

Whatever structuring the directors are doing is achieved with the lightest of touches, so that we feel as though we’re just along for the ride with these guys.

Although the issues of trauma and recovery being dealt with here are not exactly easy watching, Onashile shoots the film with a fluidity and grace.

A documentary-drama of hypnotic power.

Kordofani uses the greater intimacy offered by the camera to bring us close to the characters and reveal the complex layers of relationship developing between them.

A fascinating piece of work, mixing glamour and darkness and a lot of uncertainty.

Hoard goes further, creeps around, becomes something you can start to smell, to taste.

For all the apparent chaos, this is a tightly controlled piece of work which fully delivers on the promise of Stolevski’s earlier films.

A fresh spin on territory that has been frequently explored.

A sort of soft-faced tyrany abounds.

There’s a freshness to this world, as if one had just stepped out of one’s own door and arrived in an unexpected place.

By the end you might not only ask yourself if someone is losing their marbles but whose marbles, in fact, are the ones that are being lost.

This cinematic exploration, a manifestation of Christian bigotry, speculates with cinematic icons and religious imagery, laying bare the power-hungry clergy.

There's a disassociation between the original's ennui and what might be the consequences of sleep deprivation. There's also a rebalancing of its violence, and it might be that which most discomfits.

It is Scorsese at his, one hesitates to say peak, but absolute.

It’s Dastmalchian’s light touch which really makes it work.

The film feels surprisingly modern but never anachronistically so.

Maestro is a starry affair on all fronts.

The film is compellingly, playfully wayward, a documentary-leaning piece so sincere you might not entirely believe it to be a fictional construction until the credits roll.

The balance held between creepiness and fascination, sheer fun and lingering disturbance is held throughout.

One of the most moving portraits of childhood seen recently on the screen.

As indicative as John's story is, there's barely room in nearly two hours to cover much beyond the basics.

It’s a slight thing but nicely delivered.

A beautifully constructed piece of work in which every detail serves the whole, putting the tools of the epic at the disposal of a story which is intimate and delicately realised.

Handsomely mounted in terms of both the wide open landscapes and the confines of the church, Thornton allows the mystery surrounding the boy’s powers to remain that way, unknowable perhaps even to the youngster.

There’s not a great deal here that we haven’t seen before, but it’s well delivered.

The film undercuts the pop psychology associated with sporting success, clearing the space in which to attempt a more honest account.

The powerful forces of family and fable, old and new, intertwine and vie for supremacy in Belgian-Congolese director Baloji’s visually striking debut.

No matter that the plot development is deliberately murky, it’s the mood that catches you in its tides.

With a background in documentary, director Mika Gustafson captures something that, though not always coherent, feels fresh and raw and real.

Just as Reymont’s book immersed itself in the metaphorical colour of Polish peasant life, so the Welchmans’ film delivers a flood of literal colour.

Peeping Tom is a film all about watching and identification, a film whose real horror hinges on the way it implicates the audience in its dark voyeurism.

The 4:3 format, preferred by Yasujirō Ozu, is the perfect frame for paying attention to the small mysteries that are often overlooked.

The only mystery is why anyone would stay to the end of Poolman.

Lanthimos skillfully transforms this lustful carnival into a coming-of-age drama, emphasising the protagonist's mastery of sexuality as a connotation of her mental evolution.

While much of the visual humour works perfectly thanks to good timing and framing, some of the running gags seem more suited to a sprint than the marathon Rejtman takes them on.

Coppola paints pictures of mid-century Americana and the codes and moral shortcomings that go with it.

Mirza may sometimes over-indulge in sentiment, but there’s a warmth to the film that makes it easy to like, and she handles its more chaotic scenes with flair.

Patriarchal and paternalistic structures at both a family and country level are put in the spotlight.

It is an assured and relentless exposé.

A well told tale, funny and poignant and more emotionally complex than it initially appears.

The feeling that something bad could happen at any moment permeates the mood.

Its unreliable geographies, human and physical, make it even more beguiling.

While attempting to describe the crux of Samsara is, essentially, as impossible as catching lightning in a jar, join me on a journey of imagination and we’ll give it a go.

What really drives the film is the quietly powerful central performance.

An unusually intimate, exploratory film underscored by dry humour, Sky Peals has an atmosphere that you won’t find anywhere else.

Tejpal’s debut may be uneven but it's certainly not short of momentum.

Stopmotion is not a film that strives to keep secrets or deliver surprises. It wants us to understand what’s happening, at least to an extent, and still be helpless to prevent it.

The brutality of the abuse is never played down or shied away from, but nor is it considered insurmountable.

While the end result is important, Hùng’s film is all about savouring the moment, something that becomes more urgent as it progresses - although talk of speed has little place in a film that unfolds with the pace and beauty of a flower.

A film built on the repeated turn of the seasons and the idea of leaving and returning.

The idea of different things being in and out of focus for the various generations runs through a film that has sweetly comic moments and poignancy in equal measure.

Turestedt is excellent and very watchable.

The writer-director team of Mathieu Neart and Stéphan Castang shows a repeated willingness to take risks which really elevate the film.

On the visual front, the camera moves harmoniously with the workers' unpredictable gestures.

There are no shortcuts in this film, no conventions and nothing careless.