Edie is a surprising film. It sets out in an unassuming way and develops into something genuinely affecting. It tells the story of a widow in her early eighties, Edie.
Nightmare on 12th Street. July 1967, a sweltering summer in Detroit. The city erupts into rebellion. Looting, arson, snipers.
Colin Farrell becomes a troublingly perfect Agamemnon in this new film by Yorgos Lanthimos.
A long relationship plays out in a world of light and dark among the upper classes of Paraguay. Director/writer Marcelo Martinessi talks about his Berlinale prize-winning film.
Mayhem reigns wherever Moonee (Brooklyn Prince), an irrepressible six-year-old, leads her friends. She is a little tornado of mischief, and has an answer for everything.
Giada Colagrande’s latest film explores love after loss, in a richly musical and luminous story.
An aesthetically stunning cinematic feat, Roma gives a vivid account of a Mexico City childhood set against a backdrop of surging political repression.
South London, City lights in the distance. The crepuscular gloom envelops a man felled by loss, drink and impending homelessness. He has nowhere to go, and no loved ones. Yet “Jawbone” is a quietly exhilarating film.
There is a particular glamour to party nights in cities like Beirut or Tel Aviv – the proximity of the sea, the dark starry nights, suntanned boys and girls dancing the night away at impromptu gatherings, smoking on balconies and rooftop terraces, sometimes encountering that unexpected spark of attraction.
On the last day of 1930, a young man wrote a prescient article for the Cardiff Western Mail: “Liberty, for which fighters in Britain have struggled for centuries, is now considered pre-Victorian humbug throughout the world”.
The Berlinale distinguishes itself through its openness – a large-scale competitive festival, widely open to the public, with screenings in multiple cinemas throughout the city.
A Cannes 2018 favourite, Alice Rohrwacher’s film is a deliciously subtle tragi-comic fable, told with the lightest of touches.
The past brings up unexpected treasures in Ingmar Bergman’s 1971 “The Touch”.
Painfully pleasurable and utterly epic, this gothic tale of one-eyed seagulls and men going mad is all crashing waves, booming foghorns, and stark, crepuscular landscapes.
This is a treat of a film. Its raw immediacy and wit both delight and worry.