Enter a phantasmagorical kaleidoscope – a magic lantern of a film that rather than illuminate its surroundings, lights a path right into the self.
An imperious man stands on a shore, nose aquiline, brow furrowed. Gravity is carved in his features. Noble in stance, he is the perfect image of the 18th century colonial administrator. Within moments, the scene turns to farce. Caught ogling bathing women, he is pursued, fleeing to cries of ‘Voyeur! Voyeur!’. He restores his precarious dignity by turning around and hitting one of the women, a slave.
Of the many compelling love affairs that punctuated the lives of the writers and artists of the Bloomsbury set during the first half of the 20th century, Virginia Woolf's involvement with Vita Sackville-West stands out.
This is Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck’s third feature, after his compelling The Lives of Others, set in 1980s East Berlin, and The Tourist, the filmmaker’s Hollywood detour with Angelina Jolie and Johnny Depp.
A gorgeously deadpan thriller full of black humour and with unexpected touches of romance, Corneliu Porumboiu’s latest film turns bleak Noir into deep colour.
A wild night in New York starts calmly enough. In a psychiatrist’s office, a young man, Nick (Benny Safdie), speaks haltingly.