San Sebastian Film Festival — A–Z of films

Although strong in its documentary feel and scathing in its message, it otherwise runs through the Alpha to Omega of predictable thriller elements.

It should come as no surprise, given the kitsch and extravagant props and costumes, that the film has been co-produced by Pedro Almodovar and his brother Augustin.

Measured but naturally emotional recollections dovetail with the more impressionistic animated segments to scrutinise the psyche of war.

Despite its grey, flat light and general melancholy punctured by menace, An Elephant Sitting Still is, by the end considerably more optimistic than it first appears about humanity.

Higashide will no doubt attract most attention, impressive in his ability to inhabit two very different characters, yet it's Karata who is the power at the heart of the film.

A thriller that, although it could have done with judicious editing at the beginning and end, nonetheless delivers laughs, shocks and, most importantly, that sense of satisfaction that only comes when puzzle pieces come together with a resounding click

The performances are a tribute to a screenplay that avoids the worst indulgences of the urban jungle.

The film revolves around a simple plot, superbly executed.

The rituals set in motion at the start, also tune us into the wavelength of portent, so that a heron's feet on a rug or the sound of locusts carry at least as much threat as the site of a loaded gun.

This emerges as a piece of bravura filmmaking that tackles huge themes with style and intelligence while providing a compelling narrative drive.

The veneer of technical excellence never quite takes your mind off the lack of substance beneath.

The Brothers is a cruel tale, very much in the tone of the old stories, with moments of real brutality.

The writers start from a place where the screw is already turned and, just when you think they can't get it any tighter, find new ways to increase the tension - matching their torque with action.

You might notice the elegance of composition while knowing that the place contains so much human suffering.

This is a quiet movie, which never loses its focus on its central character study, while allowing points about economic and social inequalities to sound out loud and clear.

Beautifully shot and articulated.

Michel Ocelot's combination of live film, photo-realistic images and animation brings out the magic of Paris as if were being seen for the first time.

Garrel knows his film is a confection rather than a banquet, so keeps things moving along at a serious clip

This is a story about grief and loneliness here masquerading as one about rockets.

Directed with admirable understatement and restraint.

This film displays a deftness of touch.

Elusively impenetrable stuff that only loosely can be described as cinema.

You might not think you're in the mood for buying, but his extravagant sales pitch is likely to win you over by the end.

Gentle, entertaining, functional.

Clavellino's approach is unsentimental and all the more believable for that.

The film remains mysterious without being confusing - you don't need to grasp every detail to understand its metaphors and message and its enigmatic aura invites repeat viewings.

Thumbs up here for graphics that are colourful, inventive and always interesting.

The writer/director casts his net wide, taking inspiration from auteurs like John Boorman and Sam Peckinpah through to freeze-frame moments that could slot straight into TV detective dramas of the time.

We are at a point where the wonders of earth and an awe in regards to nature cannot be shown often enough.

While Simon and Laura may predict the reality TV genre, its take on it can't really be called prescient or telling.

Phoenix gives his character more depth than such men are usually afforded but deliberately takes a back seat, allowing Reilly the dramatic lead role he has long deserved.

Hugely enjoyable, shamelessly melodramatic and technically swish.

Mayfair treats her scenes of sex and desire with restraint, using juxtaposition to evoke mood.

In one shot, in absolute silence, we watch a single leaf fall down from high above; it is a moment so compelling that you will hesitate to interrupt it with a breath.

It's in dance that the film's strength lies, illustrating, through choreography, Acosta's more abstract - and more negative - emotions, including fear, loneliness and lust.