New York Film Festival — A–Z of films

If you've been confused by what you've seen of US politics recently and are looking to learn more about it, this is a great place to start.

The lengths of time the shots last and the camera angles that hide more context than they reveal are what formally is most striking about Beginning. But it is the story that sticks with you.

The real-life clumsiness, the awkward pauses in human interactions are captured attentively; these are the most precise moments of the film.

Wiseman has stuck around to the point where people forget that he's there, so we see people as they habitually present themselves to one another, rather than more self-conscious performances.

The drab decay, no less moral than material, of both Karrer and the town that he haunts is so beautifully composed that no cinephile will begrudge Tarr the occasional longueur.

Lee is inventive in his shooting - particularly in his use of an aerial camera above the stage and another that lurks at the back at barefoot level, both capturing elements of the performance that an audience on the night would not be able to see.

We are given time, which is wonderful, to count and study the painted ceiling fans and observe the hand-movements of the attentive music listeners.

Pfeiffer’s delivery is fantastically inscrutable.

The language captured here speaks volumes. The animals’ faces, their reactions and movements, remind doubters of their sentient nature in every shot.

In the Seventies, films like this had the status of arthouse. Now that CGI is sexier than life and you are only a multiplex away from Action City, they look like leftovers from an intellectual’s doodle.

When Almodóvar has the protagonist talk about kitchen knives and their temptation, all I could think of was the brand of knife he might choose to showcase.

If you have a passion for architecture - and especially for interiors - you'll find that sufficient reason to watch this in itself.

The film is so subtle and slow and internalised that it crystalises into a thing of beauty.

The choreography by Coral Messam showcases the garments and limbs in movement.

There is more substance of thought in one minute of this film than most movies are able to produce in an hour.

The ease with which McQueen shifts the tone from very serious argument to light-hearted banter is sterling.

Pollard casts fresh light on the Bureau’s attempts to discredit King as a threat to the American social order as well as the organisation’s inner workings.

William Klein’s incomparable documentary is much more than a boxing film.

Everything here is wrapped in layers of fiction.

What worked so well in The Rider, namely that people were playing versions of themselves, falls flat because of the casting of McDormand in the lead.

Rosi’s camera lets the light and the landscapes, the shattered houses and the fractured humanity speak for themselves.

We lack emotional investment in the underlying situation, possibly because Coppola is aiming to play almost everything for laughs.

Each scene builds on the next to illuminate the specifics as well as the universal quality of experiences.

It is comforting to keep in mind that the devil cannot cross your threshold without an invitation.

We start with men getting on horses. More than 36 of them.

Bradley’s direction emphasises the beauty of the Rich family’s resilience and humanity, with shots that carry the panoramic vistas of French New Wave and the hypnotic tones of underground cinema.

The scoring from Alejandro Otaola reinforces the otherworldly elements but the action feels underpowered by comparison.

This is a sensuous plunge into a world that's built on simple pleasures.

When Petzold shows the broken mending again, the magic of cinema becomes the subject