Search: Starring Eco

An impressively noirish moral fable.

Ideal summer entertainment.

The audience is charmed and enthralled from the very first scene.

For those who know and love Van Gogh's work, the effect is hypnotic, a translation of his vision into a new medium.

It is Aurora herself who, unsurprisingly, provides the most poignant observations as she looks back at her life.

This short film's theme - of the errant quest for dignity and labour - represents a timeless European tale.

Issue-driven drama has rarely been so polemic as it is in this fierce attack on the World Bank and International Monetary Fund’s role in African poverty.

Such is the enthusiasm about SuAnne on the res, where almost everything in this film was shot, that Kaczor has his work cut out to maintain his objectivity.

Director Yann Gozlan has done a great job here of taking us right up to the line.

A commanding painting of passions, relationships and enlightenment.

For some viewers the build up of devious plot twists may be a little overwrought but it is nevertheless an effective way of skewering the cynical viewer.

Mysterious in a manner that is thought-provoking rather than ostentatious

If the film fails to connect the dots, it is never less than intriguing.

Albanese effortlessly carries the audience with him.

Kathy Broere and Bobby Trench don't worry about the statistics - they bring us human stories and let us figure the rest out for ourselves.

A fascinating meditation on the fantastique.

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.

By trying to make the views expressed by commentators and members of the public seem natural, spontaneous and heartfelt, the debate has been dumbed down to sub primary school level.

The pacing of co-directors Olivier Duscastel and Jacques Martineau is restrained and deliberate, possibly because the larger subject they are dealing with is a weighty one that they clearly feel passionate about.

It's worth noting that making a genre film is no excuse for crafting a female character this depressingly weak.

There is something wrong, something odd about this place

Too enigmatic and slow burning for its own good.

Because it is so self-consciously light, this film never quite has the impact it might have done, but it's still an interesting take on an unusual phenomenon.

The women are plain spoken and angry rather than just whimpery - most of the time - but they don't get to do very much.

This is a story of building a thing against impossible odds.

All of the pieces fit together perfectly so that questions arise in the mind of the viewer exactly when they should, and little shifts of mood have unexpected consequences.

While it might be fun to laugh at carefully crafted slapstick for half an hour, it's hard for it to maintain its momentum for the duration of a feature.

I Am Not A Serial Killer strikes rhythmic beats with precision as the story progresses.

This is a film from the perspective of women: and not just one perspective, but many, which is what gives it its richness.

While it never achieves the classic status of some of its forebears, it’s a gripping study of modern warfare at its most savage.

Does an impressive job of connecting with the man behind the myth.

The viewer has to be keyed into Akerman's cinematic language, how she portrays boredom, claustrophobia, isolation.

The film is at its best when Tati is on his own with a simple prop like the bike, when his distinctive personality comes to the fore.

The emotions at the heart of the movie run high and it is here where the best tension lies.

Hemingway and Stanfield are both good in the central roles, with Howze charismatic as the antagonist on the fringes of the island community, but the film never really takes off the way it should.

But if a certain sentimentality means that there is a little too much included, the film also benefits from the obvious emotion that the contributors all pour into it.

There's some excellent effects work to recreate stage-blood and mummery, some real moments of tension and fright, but with four credited writers I wonder if it's trying in too many directions.

Richard Berry is seemingly unable to decide whether he is making a children's film or a film starring children, intended for an older audience.

The director and her co-writer Alice Winocour side with their young protagonists, drawing on their boundless energy to tell their story in the spirit of a fable and in a way that makes it accessible to younger audiences.

Desplechin, like no other, startles with his enigmatic perceptions on the gender divide.

As in the best Neorealist works, the transitions here are seamless, the editing superb, and everything has a lucid quality that allows documentary and fiction to intermingle effortlessly.

The script has been tatooed on a fingernail. It is so small, you need binoculars.

Instead of bringing their desperation to life, the narrative unfolds in such a cold and detached manner, and with such austere dialogue and characterisation, that it becomes difficult to identify either with the passionate release that the lovers enjoy to

A startling work that teaches the redemptive power of self-forgiveness

Jimenez has a playful attitude to these characters, although there are serious underlying issues concerning self-esteem and, more politically, the state of the Chilean healthcare system and notions of surveillance.

It's real video nasty stuff, ready to probe the sturdiest of constitutions and induce a succession of sacré bleus.