San Sebastian Film Festival — A–Z of films

Petzold’s most literary film to date.

A semi-autobiographical film with a potent sense of place, Almamula alternates between realism and fantasy, its camerawork reflecting the conflicting ways of thinking at its core.

Hüller has always been an unfussy actress, who allows a character's flaws to shine out in interesting ways.

The hand-drawn beauty of the images always connects to ideas, something grander that we have yet to find out about.

A meditation on both memory and movies as well as ageing and a hankering for the past that is informed by the melancholic knowledge that nostalgia is inevitably rose-tinted.

Trauma here isn’t a switch turned on by a force strong enough to propel it into being, but instead, it’s a slow-burning reflective state.

While offering some notion of Beckett’s feelings towards key people in his life, his works feel very underrepresented.

Moreno isn’t shy about his use of symbolism...What this effects to disguise, however, is the degree to which [the men's] own thinking has been shaped by symbols and by the belief system which surrounds them.

The writers care about even their smallest characters.

Striking in its intimacy.

Hamaguchi isn’t scared to completely change the rhythm of his film on a dime, something that is likely to frustrate as many people as it delights.

There’s a sweet-hearted but dated dad rock quality to this tale.

An amuse-bouche of a film, Aki Kaurismäki’s latest comedy romance may leave you wanting more but it’s also a fully rounded, good looking experience packed with all the flavours we’ve come to expect from the master of deadpan down the years.

There’s something inherently endearing about the way that Nikou always managed to conjure timelessness in his worlds. They’re more analogue than futuristic but ultimately hang in a sort of limbo of ‘here but not quite now’.

Loosely structured, although maintaining an impressive balance between its stories.

There’s a freshness to this world, as if one had just stepped out of one’s own door and arrived in an unexpected place.

First-timer Sarr - who is a musician - is a remarkable lead and matched by the support from fellow novice Fall.

A Journey In Spring is one of the most impressive contributions to date in the new Taiwanese cinema.

Eklöf also doesn’t deal in absolutes, allowing us to see that Jan is both damaged and damaging, not just to himself but others - a hot mess in a cold climate.

The balance held between creepiness and fascination, sheer fun and lingering disturbance is held throughout.

A beautifully constructed piece of work in which every detail serves the whole, putting the tools of the epic at the disposal of a story which is intimate and delicately realised.

Handsomely mounted in terms of both the wide open landscapes and the confines of the church, Thornton allows the mystery surrounding the boy’s powers to remain that way, unknowable perhaps even to the youngster.

The film is like a Chinese box. There are secrets within secrets within secrets.

Capturing the experience of living in a world where one’s gender doesn’t fit better than almost any other film to date, Preciado’s work is all about claiming space and present day narrative.

To say too much about what happens in each episode would be to spoil the joy of encountering Song’s finely worked screenplay, which lets its characters' emotions glitter in the light.

The 4:3 format, preferred by Yasujirō Ozu, is the perfect frame for paying attention to the small mysteries that are often overlooked.

While much of the visual humour works perfectly thanks to good timing and framing, some of the running gags seem more suited to a sprint than the marathon Rejtman takes them on.

There is a redemption arc here, but it’s not the whole of the story, and Arcel uses it to highlight the deep inequities so normalised at the time as to be almost invisible, even the most desperate characters tending to take them for granted.

Patriarchal and paternalistic structures at both a family and country level are put in the spotlight.

Memories connect and even if they are not ours, they can make us understand something urgently human.

The feeling that something bad could happen at any moment permeates the mood.

The film hovers in the grey area of Astrid's psyche, with long takes, often focused on Devos' features.

The impact of the plane crash near the start of this retelling of the remarkable true survival story is shown in visceral detail with a sound design that slams right through you.

Sultana's Dream's dense philosophical backbone proves quite meandering in places but even if not every abstract idea hits the target, the animation is always on point.

While the end result is important, Hùng’s film is all about savouring the moment, something that becomes more urgent as it progresses - although talk of speed has little place in a film that unfolds with the pace and beauty of a flower.

It’s not the first time a film has scrutinised what it means to be “a good victim” but Girard’s general restraint, coupled with a controlled central performance from Alaoui bring it home.

At the heart of it is the complex relationship between mother and son.

The idea of different things being in and out of focus for the various generations runs through a film that has sweetly comic moments and poignancy in equal measure.

A richly evocative masterpiece of domestic claustrophobia, erotic tension and existential crisis.

There are no shortcuts in this film, no conventions and nothing careless.