Edin Custo is a film critic and cultural journalist from Mostar, Bosnia and Herzegovina. He is a regular contributor to Eye For Film and Filmofil.ba, Bosnia and Herzegovina’s only specialised film publication, and his work has also appeared in Cineuropa and DMovies. He also contributes to Azra Magazin (Dnevni Avaz), a mainstream Bosnian magazine platform covering culture and entertainment. He edits The Self Reproaching Critic, his independent platform for film and cultural criticism. He is the founder and president of the Film Critics Society of Bosnia and Herzegovina (UFKBiH), the national section of FIPRESCI (the International Federation of Film Critics). He holds a BA from Occidental College in Los Angeles, and alongside his film writing, he also writes poetry.
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The 40-something director is sensible enough not to sensationalise
A Kurdish female sniper, has survived war but when she learns the younger sister she believed was dead may still be alive in Mosul, she returns on a rescue mission that forces her to confront the trauma of her past.
This boys’ club doesn’t offer anything new in the way of insight.
Dario is the father of a child with a disability, to whom he devotes all his care and attention, and shares a close bond with his teenage nephew. As their relationship grows increasingly intense, he begins to see in the boy the son he had always wished for...
Ultimately, it is the universality of a diasporic child judging an older parent’s decisions through the distorting lens of distance, age and solitude that will resonate with many.
Josette (80) lives alone in Yaoundé, Cameroon. All her children have left for the West. She encourages them to build houses in Cameroon, a ploy to bring them back to her. But the unexpected bond she forms with Sarah, a young woman from her neighborhood, shatters everything she has built her life on: her family, her responsibilities, and her hopes.
The docufictional construction can become meditative to the point of meandering, a tug-of-war between autobiography and fiction that sometimes weighs down the story.
A pregnant Iranian woman and a Serbian man longing for fatherhood, both bisexual and living in Germany, marry. Their families, divided by language yet united by affection, come together to celebrate.
Pompeii becomes a place where fantasy is tested against historical violence, and where looking too closely can break the story one came to preserve.
A group of French high-school students travel to Naples on a school trip to discover the ruins of Pompeii and the bodies petrified by Vesuvius. There, they are drawn into a dizzying descent.
Desire does not arrive here as a clean break from domestic life. It appears as a tremor inside it.
Feng Xia lives a life of dutiful servitude to her husband, children and community of Chinese ex-pats. When she finally decides to put herself first, and explore the sexuality that she has long concealed, she meets the free-spirited Camille.
Its images are often chilling. Its spaces have a genuine charge. But the plot often feels less like cinema than like a sequence of cutscenes from a video game with the gameplay removed.
A strange doorway appears in the basement of a furniture showroom.
Mungiu’s eye moves between the juggernaut and the barely visible.
Mihai and Lisbet Gheorghiu, a devout Romanian Norwegian couple, move from Romania to Norway with their children to be closer to Lisbet’s family. But tension mounts when one of the children arrives at school with bruises.
