Sundance Film Festival — A–Z of films

Ciorniciuc maintains an admirable ambivalence about the situation, showing both the good and bad aspects of the family's rural existence as well as the positives and negatives of city life.

Garai has plenty of ideas and a willingness to embrace both more intellectual horror ideas and gore.

A passionate energy courses beneath the surface of Levan Akin's tale of love and repression

Green shows the trickle-down effect of toxic masculinity, as Jane's male colleagues - scarcely higher in the pecking order than her - nevertheless chip away at her.

Bad Hair has a fresh and volatile statement of its own to make.

Black Bear is a tremendously pretentious film but Plaza feels real and keeps it interesting, delivering one of 2020's most impressive performances.

While the roaming handheld cameras bring to mind observational documentaries, the aesthetic also evokes Robert Altman through its observational style and rich tapestry of characters.

Perhaps Boys State's greatest achievement is that it finds a way to make all these boys relatable.

The acutely caught observational humour is what gives The Climb its motor.

The real issue set out in Coded Bias.. is that we are stumbling headlong into a world in which major life-changing decisions for every one of us are taken by impersonal unrelenting computer algorithms.

Although he is dealing specifically with one instance in Romania, it's easy to see evidence of greater global malaise reflected here.

While the film's more nostalgic elements are likely to help to keep adults on board it is also invigorated, not only by Goodhill's unorthodox approach to the works but also by the diverse casting.

What makes the ensuing story special, besides Cooke’s elegant direction, are the relationships between the characters.

Strikes a good balance between informing, educating and entertaining.

The complex interactions between the girls are beautifully captured.

The emotional honesty of this film is by turns elating and heartbreaking, with Kirsten not scared to let her feelings show on camera alongside those of her dad.

Adam Rehmeier's latest film arrives with the anarchic energy of a cherry bomb tossed into the bathroom toilet of Middle America.

The Icarus Oscar-winner's analysis is robust and well-illustrated and he moves at a pace, even if the scoring from Adam Peters is over-insistent in places.

Di Girolamo has a compelling intensity in the role but it's still hard to believe that everyone would fall quite so hard and fast for Ema's devil may care charms and unpredictability, especially with so much on the line.

Morina generates a similar atmosphere to that of the films of Ruben Östlund, prying at the cracks in the male psyche.

Mortensen seems to draw particular focus to the aggression, fear and pejoratives associated with neurological disorders - a side only ever faintly explored in cinema.

Jah is superb.

Zeller elegantly and scarily fuses dream logic with markers of past trauma.

They say a story can grow legs and, here, it does that and then hops off in surprising directions - taking us on a journey not just into the world of memes and their manipulation but also into considerations of 'ownership' and misappropriation.

An eye-opener of a documentary.

Kunis’ performance is raw and ugly in just the way it needs to be.

Yes, Herself is first and foremost a film about a woman's journey. It is also, in a smaller way, about another journey, from selfishness to community spirit.

The film is worth watching for the good work from its two leads.

Taps into deep, Jungian terrors and turns confusion into an asset.

It's a far from perfect film, but it's a lot better than the critical consensus suggests, and at the heart of it is a fascinating character study.

Kajillionaire is strong, disturbing stuff.

David is stubborn in ways that still retain sympathy, even from Nikki, thanks in no small part to Crawford's portrayal, which has a naturalistic looseness that springs taut just at the right moments.

Bustamente, in both of his films last year, prefers subtle suggestion to overt statements.

Durra isn't looking to make anything so simple as a romantic drama, though that element is there, but instead to consider what lies beneath Hana's words in terms as she grapples in the liminal space between her past and her future.

The idea of a younger family member gradually forming a connection with an older one is a constant in cinema but it has a purity here that is shorn of unnecessary sentiment.

What makes the film interesting is the depth and complexity of its characters, together with the connections between them, which feel real and often defy expectations.

Alberdi keeps the tone light and profound simultaneously.

The screenplay and direction deftly let the audience put together the pieces, making the discrepancies plain to see without hitting us over the head with their existence.

It is a portrait of loneliness and alienation, yes, but also of resourcefulness, resilience and unity.

Ambiguity lurks in the shadows and there's a doubling up and a doubling down.

The aim here is not to give chapter and verse on the habits of the various animals we are to meet but rather to admire them in their habitat.

Although it may be a remote arm of the Venezuelan body politic, it mirrors a political and environmental malaise that is coursing through the veins of the country.

Filled with humanism and raw emotion, the film builds as the double portrait that its title suggests, with Ree and his editor Robert Stengård employing a flexible structure that sometimes shifts backwards in time so that our perspective is also being cons

Palm Springs is appealingly playful and deceptively smart.

The film generates a feel-good vibe even if beneath the pleasant froth lies a rather predictable polemic against the patriarchy.

Cronenberg is most certainly David’s son, and while he’d probably prefers to avoid comparisons, his proclivity towards jarring imagery and shocking material instantly calls to mind his father's work.

Fennell explores the lasting effects of traumatic events with care, never making light of the situation even amid moments of comedy.

This is a film that is all about connection, not just between parent and child but aiming to bridge the gap between the way those with nonspeaking autism perceive the world and the way that they, in turn, are perceived by the neurotypical.

Director Natalie Erika James, still only in her twenties, draws viewers into her astonishing debut feature by externalising the horrors of a disease that will be all too familiar to many.

Before, it often felt as though Decker was drifting off onto self-indulgent tangents but her latest feels much more under control, with those tangents are a fully fledged part of the portrait.

Sympathies increasingly lie with the women.

The fact that Michael Almereyda's playful biopic doesn't quite fire on all cylinders feels more like a tribute than a failing.

Mosese uses the structure of myth – the story repeated in language, culture and oral tradition.

The film's broad scope also serves to further underline its title - the cuts it references aren't just being made in one place, but all over the body politic.

Bradley’s direction emphasises the beauty of the Rich family’s resilience and humanity, with shots that carry the panoramic vistas of French New Wave and the hypnotic tones of underground cinema.

This is a sensuous plunge into a world that's built on simple pleasures.

Despite its dense plot, the story is as predictable as the route back to Creekville and it is testimony to Bettany and Lillis that Ball gets as much mileage out of it as he does.

By pushing us into the day-to-day stress of the organisation, France gives a palpable sense of the desperation many of those fleeing feel.

Wendy makes an important point about children’s connection to nature.

Bravo too often steps back from more serious interrogation in favour of more surface thrills as the girls wave their derrieres in the air like they don't care.