London Film Festival — A–Z of films

As much as 2073 mentions things, it digs no further.

His rigorous journey conveys a deep sense of beauty.

It’s fitting for a film set in the “City of Dreams” and that is concerned with life’s illusions and how we navigate them as it is about the here and now.

What isn't untrue is that Anora is brilliant.

It finds room for those who despise weakness, and are weaker for it, and is stronger because of it.

It’s not unusual to say that something cuts through the silence but in Dea Kulumbegashvili’s April it’s the silence that cuts through us.

As much as Architecton rues humanity’s depletion of our resources, it also marvels at our ability to harness materials for our own ends.

It is the things taken for granted, as much as the things that stand out, which shape the tale.

The film is a brash, vulgar, joyously realistic portrait of a three-way friendship with roots that run deep.

The word ballad is a good choice in the title because Hunt-Ehrlich’s film is a rhythms and muse affair.

Amid all the deprivation Arnold, as is her style, uncovers elements that lift the action out of the ordinary and into the realms of fantasy and magical realism.

Documentaries don’t get much more personal or intimate than this

As ever, Soda’s style is patient, unintrusive, and warmly curious.

Director Edward Berger and his director of photography Stephane Fontaine have made every frame art.

Vigorously covering all bases, Diop cuts elegantly to give each position ample space.

Audiard has assembled a remarkable team of actors

It’s ironic that a film about a family who have built a perfect facsimile of a life for themselves should feel so overly constructed itself

The writer/director also zeroes in on the importance of physical contact for Ruth - something concrete in a world that is now full of things that she can’t always grasp.

There is a careful balance here between the big drama of the premise and the personal dramas experienced by the characters, most of whom pay no particular heed to the wider tragedy unfolding.

Cat’s viewpoint predominates, and Zilbalodis has an acute understanding of how the world looks from its point of view, of what catches its attention and how its body follows instinctively.

A visually rich experience that boldly breaks down stylistic conventions, resulting in a dream-like atmosphere that vividly conjures the spectres of a troubled past.

Clarke’s utilisation of eerie Irish lore and the supernatural to explore very real horror, and the lifelong lingering aftermath of a single, damning moment, is a potent and unsettling brew.

The absurdity is one of its delights.

A thoughtful, shrewd examination of the impact of rapidly developing technologies.

It’s funny to begin with, watching Pansy rant with no filter, sharing her negative thoughts on everything from baby clothes with pockets to sofa salespeople, but gradually we realise just how close to the edge she is.

At times the discomfort that Harvest causes is not from dirt or despair but the room it leaves for interpretation.

This is a tactile retelling, inviting us to imagine the sticky feel of Coca-Cola on hot skin in the sun or the heat of a sheepskin coat and the love that goes with it being passed from mum to daughter ahead of a trip abroad.

From the start, there is something different about this film.

Loznitsa’s approach is quietly observational, capturing the quotidian goings on as they continue beneath the shadow of war.

With elements that are sadly all too recognisable, the familiar story is elevated by the strength of the performances and the decent pace and no-nonsense approach adopted by Bollaín.

The director shows how it’s not just Julie’s tennis skills that have been groomed by the coach but large aspects of her life.

As the modest camera follows Younes and his family, the directors dignify his struggle.

There are several standout compositions among Figueroa's cinematography.

Although this is set in the Nineties, the gritty feel makes it redolent of Seventies-set thrillers, a mood reinforced by the way that du Welz embeds us in Paul’s life from the start.

It is gorgeous, both to look at and to listen to. It's perhaps Larrain's most accessible film, though that's as much to do with its star as its subject.

Elliot time and again marries darkness and light, sweetness with sour to create a satisfying emotional umami.

Once again, Guiraudie proves himself the master of setting up a mystery by the means of perfect script economy that functions strictly on “need to know” basis.

The camera is close when it needs to be but often focused on a detail, such as hands on a rosary or capturing the detail of surroundings, including religious iconography or the texture of a horse’s coat that help us to feel Mother Vera’s place within these spaces.

Through a collage of footage shot by numerous brave protesters, she pieces together a statement about film as identity, in a country where the individual slowly fades away.

Nickel Boys is a tremendously daring film.

Nightbitch is of an ilk that is off-kilter. It is unreliable and unstable. It is visceral and dark. It is taxidermy and what I think are freezer potato pancakes.

A lot of the time, we talk about forgetting as a form of letting go, but in Inadelso Cossa’s sophomore docu-fiction feature, forgetting is a haunting, undead, presence.

Nyoni expertly controls her narrative so that it glides effortlessly between the reality of the funeral preparations to the more surreal psychological trauma Shula is working through.

Carreira shows how quiet desperation can be eroding

There’s also an emperor’s new clothes feeling to the general style, look closely and there's very little there.

Eisenberg takes us through the entire journey in a brisk 90 minutes, but the film never feels rushed.

Almodóvar goes all out with the delights fashion has to offer, bright colours, the joy of transformation - because it is never too late for sartorial metamorphosis.

The writing is sharp and succinct.

Writer/director Sandhya Suri - who has a documentary background - is keen to show that everyone plays their part in the prejudices and corruption of the legal system.

Having set up all the elements of a thriller, the film proceeds to untangle them in a refreshingly different and mature way.

Grittily compelling

Jones and Ross are both strong personalities and the personal aspect of the film is one of its strongest suits.

Every frame feels like the product of conscious decision-making, with nothing merely carrying us from one point to another.

Reaches touching heights as it follows the marked son of a dead sicario from childhood to young adulthood.

If you’re a Close fan, it’s a must.

It's just not very captivating.

The heat is omnipresent, rippling through the air, distorting what we see, distorting time and identity.

Huppert's lines feel stiff from the get-go, predicting a vague narrative limited by a purposefully strange dialogue.

Maura Delpero’s multi-layered drama sees its heroine growing up and coming to understand the world in new ways at the same time as the village itself shifts, not altogether willingly, into the modern era.

Like the protagonist we are swept up by a wave of questions about aviation and identity and the unbearable heaviness of memory.

A perfect example of just how much the stars of a film can elevate mediocre material by the strength of their performances.

The delight of the drama stems from the well crafted characters, while its heft hinges on toxicity that may not be immediately obvious.

Beyond the dark loneliness of grief, is the soft light of a shared mourning.

Starting as a refined drama about a broken Tunisian family, the narrative becomes a complex meditation on attachment and motherhood, all encompassed by a remarkable female lead.

The film mines a lot of clichés but manages to do something a little different with them, blending traditional elements of children’s fiction with a distinctly 21st Century sensibility.