San Sebastian Film Festival — A–Z of films

There's some late in the day pathos which does pull at the heart strings, but the film falls flat once more with a half-baked open ended conclusion.

A beautifully observed study of a small community remaining united in the face of seismic shifts.

More often than not, when emotion is called for, Michael Konyves lays on the scripting far too thick.

The film's chief virtue is that it remains true to itself - there are no sly cutaways to phones ringing in empty apartments or flashbacks to happier times, just Reynolds stuck underground and hoping for rescue.

There is a full-throttle, head-long feel to Trapero's film that sends it careering along.

This film doesn't just have one good idea, it has many, and it segues them together beautifully.

Lucy Walker's chilling documentary serves as a reminder that the threat of a nuclear bomb going off somewhere in the world to devastating effect has not diminished just because it has slipped from the public consciousness.

This understated moodpiece is a real treat for those in tune with Lucrecia Martel's brand of nuanced suggestiveness - and is full of pretty pictures for everyone else.

Shot almost entirely from the children's perspective, Arbeláez tackles universal themes of conflict and its impact on ordinary people without getting mired in specific politics.

Every bit as quirky, engaging and rebellious as the artwork it aims to celebrate. Sadly, it also shares graffiti's tendency to be energetic but scattergun and ephemeral.

The film is adapted from the book Elisa Kiseljak by Lolita Bosch and its origins hang like a millstone round its neck courtesy of ponderous and never-ending narration.

Shot over three years, the film treads a line between documentary and fiction... and it combines extreme naturalism with surprisingly avant-garde techniques.

This is a movie in serious need of pruning.

This is a quiet and intimate film, filled with gorgeous natural images and soundscapes that speak volumes.

The picture is a claustrophobic, intimate jumble... The terrific sound design is instrumental as well.

A triumph of blood-soaked style over meaningful substance.

Our view, through Bergé's eyes, is that of the melancholic, someone who has the object of desire but has lost the object-cause of desire.

The humour and emotion are so sharp you might not feel them at the time, but Mullan's film cuts deep and leaves its mark.

Patricio Guzmán has wisely chosen to step back and let the story unfold largely by itself.

If this sounds grim, it is, but it keeps the audience engaged thanks to a beautifully judged script and a keen sense of the absurd.

A low-key, but fascinating, documentary.

A gripping and emotionally affecting consideration of the casual evils that men do.

Veteran actress Yun Jeong-hie, who came out of a 15-year retirement to take on the role of Mija brings a fragile beauty and strength to the part, lending her character an air of inscrutability that is intriguing rather than frustrating.

The acting lacks the raw feel from the first film.

The drama of Julia's modern life quite simply can't compete with the history lesson that has gone before.