San Sebastian Film Festival — A–Z of films

The five-minute nature of the loop is perfect for escalating humour.

Hamaguchi’s most pointed provocation is not that the nursing home becomes excessive in its care, but that ordinary neglect has trained us to see basic tenderness as excess.

Ruffier has an instinct for atmosphere. The documentary is undeniably visually appealing, attentive to texture, light, and the expressive clutter of a family interior.

La Bola Negra was an unfinished work in a life cut short but the film named (variously) for it is extension and tribute and triumph.

Kernell’s drama feels embedded within the community and the landscape.

The genre elements never quite lock into a clean payoff, but the refusal to resolve things neatly leaves the viewer in a similarly unstable, hyper-vigilant state.

Ranging and enjoyably unpredictable.

Eisenberg’s obvious love of amateur dramatics provides The Debut with a foundation that feels akin to a warm hug.

The way Zischler and Hüller play their relationship is so wonderfully real and subtle and appropriately opaque for all us non-Mann family members, that it at times brought tears to my eyes.

Mungiu’s eye moves between the juggernaut and the barely visible.

Clear-sighted perspective, coupled with carefully calibrated sound design from Dario Swade, doesn’t make light of what Jamal experiences, but nor does it sensationalise them.

Director Júlia De Paz Solvas shows the effect a violent and manipulative father can have on others without giving him the centrestage attention he would crave – notably we never even hear his name.

Imagine all the Terrible/Awesome Clichés That Could Happen In The American Wilderness and construct a mental bingo card to tick them off. Spoiler warning: There's a good chance you're going to get a full house.

Cholodenko has a gift for saying little and implying much.

Hope's scale and scope and delightful detail make it a banquet, if not an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Danny Boyle brings his customary energy to James Graham’s adaptation of his own stage play, which flies along quicker than paper through a printing press.

Wilde's direction is assured, there's some gorgeous framing and frequent Rogen collaborator Adam Newport-Berra's camera makes the most of what's in front of it.

Iván & Hadoum announces de la Rosa as a filmmaker with uncommon emotional precision.

De Araújo is particularly good at evoking the emotional turmoil Jo feels.

Zvyagintsev handles this material with his familiar control: psychological realism, cold visual restraint and an aversion to overt flourish.

What makes Narciso striking is the way it acquires a contemporary charge without insisting on it.

Abraham and Szor’s approach is systematic and sobering.

The River Train lets language do what plot will not always do, it gives a child’s abstract longings a body.

The most compelling aspect of the film is it's sheer physicality.

Anderson and Einbinder are a terrific pairing.

Tender Loving Care is all about the little bits of conversation that make the world a bit more comfy for others.

Malkovich and Rockwell are magnetic.