Sundance Film Festival — A–Z of films

Essential viewing for anyone with an interest in the craft of filmmaking.

Lowery's nostalgia works because it is so sincere and does not question America's fascination with Bonnie and Clyde as an excuse for bad deeds.

This documentary feels confined by constraints that should have been stripped away in the filming process.

Baugh and his co-writer Brendan Mullin have a good feel for how they can push the absurdity of the situation without turning the whole thing into farce.

A tight little film that could have been disastrous if mishandled.

British actor Dickinson – surely on the first step to a lot more film roles – slides seamlessly into Frankie’s groove, the accent and the body language spot on.

The satire feels a bit like shooting fish in a barrel, with Strutt so monstrous he's an easy target.

The sex element, while erotically shot, is almost exclusively reserved for the moment in which Clare was enjoying the experience, thus stripping away the usual voyeuristic downside that often accompanies this genre.

Each of the characters here, presumably because they are rooted in truth, is given room to breathe and shows an ability to be changed by circumstance.

Saturday Night Live regular Mooney, who has a twinkly mischievousness and comic timing reminiscent of a young Gene Wilder, plays James as naive, but never stupid.

Pulls no punches as it takes viewers on a terrifying ride through once-familiar territory turned utterly alien.

It is fundamentally a film about the workings of infatuation with a charmed fever that contaminates its characters.

The sense of poise created, as people move through spaces or talk back and forth, objects often leaving the frame in one direction as another enters from the opposite side, achieves a soothing rhythm.

Afineevsky doesn't pull his punches.

Heineman's film inevitably includes some tough-to-watch footage but he recognises the power in not always showing death.

Vigalondo's film is very funny in places but the characters are undercooked.

The final moments of this film, as bodies shamble out of the shadows, capture the real darkness of the zombie genre in a way that recalls the best of George Romero's work.

What emerges is a warm profile of two people who love each other, working a damned sight harder than many neurotypical couples to get over the humps in the road.

Significant both in raising the profile of a woman too long overlooked and - crucially - in giving her back control over her own story.

Frequently and not at all randomly, the film switches to colour, posing a charming riddle that reflects states of happiness or other kinds of intensity.

What just about saves this film from its scruffiness is the strength of the performances.

Reveals just enough in the sparse dialogue and long silences to keep us intrigued.

Debut feature director Francis Lee grew up on a Yorkshire farm and it shows in every inch of this film.

Hristov stands back and silently observes as the election campaign plays out, showing rather than telling, how much economic circumstances can drive both word and deed.

Icarus is a multi-layered and compelling piece of work.

What Power does differently is to deny us the usual sources of comfort.

It’s absolutely a little squalid, but focusing on these elements ignores the often sublime visuals that permeate the film.

The piecemeal nature of Giovanni Boccaccio’s source material only adds to the sketch show feel, with as many moments missing the mark as hitting it.

Just when you think you know this story, Oldroyd and Birch begin to show you that you don't.

Quietly builds a testimony to the stoicism all of the 250,000 civilians who, at that time, remained trapped in the city.

Mingled with brief interviews and observations of factory work are occasional sequences of bleak yet dazzling beauty as Jain draws his camera back to explore the landscape and provide context.

This little gem has a narrative structure that Hollywood movies seem to have forgotten how to employ - all the ingredients for a classic thriller are here.

Rather than pick apart rituals... Weinstein simply lets us see them in action as part of the natural fabric of his life

This film is a labour of love for July, and it definitely shows.

The narrative depth also accrues gently, like sedimentary layers, as the film progresses, looking deceptively slight at first but gradually building into something more profound.

Both Hedlund and Mitchell deliver strong performances and balance well against one another.

The script has a heartfelt carefulness but it is never preachy, with 'naughty' conversations about the home's teacher's willy exploding likely to have pre-adolescents (and adults who well remember these sorts of conversations) hooting with laughter.

This film has plenty of hustle even though it sometimes lacks flow.

Maya Forbes and Wallace Wolodarsky love their protagonist just a bit too much.

Like all good road trips, the destination may be a the top of the protagonist's mind but the film says a lot more about his past and present than his future.

Sometimes intensely erotic, sometimes side-splittingly funny, Gasiorowska's film is beautifully observed.

Olshefski's love of the family shines bright and proves infectious.

The film is stunningly beautiful.

The machine here proves to be little more than a macguffin for a murder mystery set-up and a side helping of sentimental stodge.

Densely packed with information, this is a film that continually finds new things to say and new ways to say them.

This is a powerful film that not only resonates with the recent cycle of films concerning rebellious girls, but with films made by indigerous peoples.

The camera of Ní Chianáin has the light touch of a welcomed guardian angel, not an intruder.

Made on just over a million dollars, this remains a hugely impressive first feature.

Goes against the grain of modern crime documentaries.

This is minimalism in filmmaking to good effect.

Miyake takes a thorough approach to her subject, showing both the fan-side and the opinion of those who make money from the industry, all the while probing at the psychological drivers fuelling the craze.

A charming and entertaining take on the film within the film scenario, with solid performances from all of its cast.

The weirdness thrives on understatement

This isn't just a film to inform those who are lucky enough to know very little about ME, it also serves as a love letter of understanding for those who have it and a call to arms for everyone.

Walking Out treads a familiar path but harks back to ideas that have been forgotten in many modern hunting myths.

The film is well-served by its genre action sequences but it's the traces of grief that linger longest, like footsteps in the snow.

There is reluctance on the part of Lamche to say too much about some of the more murky areas of Winnie's life.

The colours, like that coat, only serve to show Kyra in even paler relief, her invisibility coming to offer a welcoming cloak as she hatches a plan to avoid destitution.

Sobel doesn't invite us to pity these men but rather to listen to what they have to say.

Trengove strikes a good balance between showing the cultural importance, even though on the wane, of old-fashioned masculinity and personal drama between Xolani and Kwanda, slowly ratcheting up the tension to breaking point.