Made In Prague — A–Z of films

Tomanová, making her debut here, shows rather than tells their story, leaving us to interpret.

Simply rendered and very effective.

Skop has made documentaries in the past and he and Vásáryová are alive to small gestures.

Omerzu's observational, unsentimental style and the cool, stripped back lensing from Lukas Milota means that increasingly outlandish unfortunate events unfold with an acidic humour rather than melodrama.

Fehu, in a careful balancing of tone, ensures that Pepa's situation remains tragicomic to the last, rather than merely exploiting him for cheap laughs.

Repeated viewings also reveal the beautiful circularity of the film that begins at more than one end.

A thoughtful film which finds plenty of fresh dramatic potential in its subject.

While the narrative framework may not quite go the distance, the shot choices are never less than exquisite.

Soukup fills it with unsettling detail, employing judicious use of jump scares and silence, so that the stillness inspires thoughts not of nature's calmness, but of an animal frozen in fear before flight.

Alexander Surkala’s sumptuous cinematography makes the place look endlessly beguiling and, intermittently, delivers us into the kind of darkness that can only exist in contrast with such light.

It's worth noting that this is Altricher's graduation film - he's certainly got his career off to an impressive start.

Nellis gives the story a welcome feminist slant, showing Bohdanka is a heroine to be reckoned with and presenting Gabriela as complex and lonely rather than just a twisted crone.

It is Kryštof Hadek who steals the show.

Petr Vaclav's latest film is almost smothering in its bleakness.